Phobetor's Arc

Chapter 2 of 13

Phobetor did not expect to feel the pull again so soon. The same fear, the same dreamer — but this time the terror was different. It was not sharp or jagged. It was soft, deliberate, like a door left open on purpose. The dreamer had returned to sleep looking for him. He arrived and found the structure waiting. A rotunda stood in the middle of the dream, built from dark stone and covered in flowering vines. Purple blossoms climbed the arches and spilled across the steps. The dreamer sat inside, beneath the carved ceiling, hands folded in their lap. They looked up when he appeared. "I thought you might need somewhere to sit," they said. Phobetor stood at the edge of the rotunda and stared at the carved columns, the flowers, the open space that had been built for two. No one had ever made him a place before. No one had ever asked him to return. He stepped onto the stone floor and sat down across from the dreamer. For the first time in his endless memory, he did not sit to witness fear. He sat because someone had asked him to stay. The dreamer smiled, small and uncertain, and did not look away. Phobetor realized with sharp clarity that he had no idea what to do now that someone wanted him here. The dream held steady around them both.