Echoes of Light and Shadow

Chapter 2: Dreams of Shadows

The silence of the night fractured as Miran's dreams twisted into a dark landscape. He stood alone in the heart of Ruh Al-Saqr, but it was not as it should be. The once-proud towers were crumbling, swallowed by an unnatural darkness that seeped up from the earth. Disfigured shadows moved with purpose, their forms shifting and writhing as they engulfed the city, their inhuman shapes pressing in on all sides.

A sudden roar erupted, and fire tore through the night, painting the sky in hues of red and gold. Across a field of flame, a man stood—a figure obscured but powerful, eyes burning with a terrible light. The heat rolled over Miran, suffocating and fierce, as the man's gaze met his and the world trembled under its weight.

The stars above shimmered, each one like a note in a song he could almost understand. They pulsed and shivered until their light merged into a blinding display, only to dim and blur like the echo of a dream. In that moment, a voice cut through the chaos, muffled as though spoken through layers of water or air, but unmistakable in its command.

"Believe."

Miran woke with a start, the word still vibrating in his chest. His heart pounded as he tried to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, the image of the burning man seared into his mind. The soft glow of dawn was just beginning to touch the edges of their home, promising a new day. But as he glanced over at Hira, still peacefully asleep, he knew the shadows from his dream would not be so easily banished.

The early light of dawn crept into the room, painting soft gold across the stone walls. Halima moved with practiced ease, her hands assembling breakfast from their modest pantry as she hummed a quiet tune. The scent of cardamom and warm bread wafted through the air, coaxing Miran from the thin veil of sleep. He rubbed his eyes, the remnants of his nightmare clinging to him like the cool morning mist.

"Time to get up, my loves," Halima called softly. Hira groaned, pulling the thin blanket over her head as if to shield herself from the inevitable. Miran sat up, blinking against the light, his body heavy with fatigue. The comfort of home steadied him, pushing away the unsettling memories of fire and shadows.

Halima set plates down on the table and smiled, her eyes filled with the quiet strength she carried like a shield. "Eat well today. You'll need it," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Miran's forehead. She was already dressed for work, her simple yet elegant garments marked with subtle flourishes that hinted at her skill as a beauty specialist in Ruh Al-Saqr. The city might have seemed unforgiving, but Halima brought a touch of light to those who needed it most.

Hira grumbled as she slouched into her chair, hair tousled and eyes still half-closed. "I don't know why mornings need to be so loud," she muttered, earning a soft chuckle from Halima.

"Quiet or not, they come every day, and we must meet them with strength," Halima replied, pressing a kiss to Hira's head before rushing out the door. "May God watch over you both," she said as she left, her voice trailing behind her like a whispered prayer.

Miran finished his breakfast in silence, the dream still an ember in his thoughts. It was just a nightmare, he told himself, nothing more. The world outside was warm and familiar as he stepped into the fields of golden wheat that framed the outskirts of Ruh Al-Saqr. The city's stone spires were like sentinels, watching over him as he brushed his hands against the sun-warmed stalks, their rustling a comforting song.

As the morning unfolded, Miran's friends called to him from the fields, their laughter ringing out as they raced between the rows. They played as boys their age did, tumbling through the wheat and daring each other with playful challenges. For a while, the shadow of his dream faded, replaced by the sunlit simplicity of the day.

Then, without warning, a blinding light tore across the artificial sky. It pulsed and shimmered like a cracked gem, splintering into fragments that flickered and dimmed. One by one, sections of the sky's panels shut down, piece by piece, casting eerie shadows over the city. The laughter around Miran stilled, replaced by gasps and the sound of hurried footsteps. Whispers of panic swept through the crowd—Is it a malfunction? Is it an attack?