For now, this should keep you from falling apart, said the cloaked flame to the collapsing stars.

  In the far distance, a few tiny embers of light sparked off the flame, merging into the collapsing star. The star grew a little more solid, and their ‘face’ shifted slightly. I was pulled closer, drawn to them by a powerful force.

  You found me? Asked the star of the flame.

  A tiny piece of one of you. Enough for now.

  The star smiled. Thank you.

  His cloaked head bobbed. You’re welcome. Until then, he’ll help you, he said, amused.

  The star finally noticed me and flew closer, leaving tiny glimmers of stardust behind. I was drawn closer still to them. My chest ached. Their form flickered through faces and creatures as if it were shifting for the correct channel.

  How is this possible? I wondered.

  Dust trickled from the star, landing on my palm. The ache grew more intense, bringing with it a sense of familiarity. I looked up at the star. Do I know you?

  It’s you again, thought the star.

  Memories of the collapsing star, the fragments, in the dream I’d had before ending up in Heirs tore through my vision. It was, and wasn’t, an answer.

  I remember. But do I know you?

  The star flickered again, and the ache dulled. At the same time, I vanished, drawn into another dream.

  Starlight drifted across the painted edges of the pages as she snapped the book she was reading shut. I-she pried myherself from the comfortable beanbag chair, leaving the reading nook to return her borrowed book to its rightful place. I hike my fingers along the groves and ridges of the pillars and bookends, tracing through the carefully cultivated colors of the story the column played out. This particular one happened to be my favorite, portraying the mirroring of the sky and sea that connected Andromeda and Khai. I tilted my head back, breathing in the book dust and looking through the protectively tinted windows to my namesake twinkling in the sky as they smiled down from above. I reached my hand above my head, grasping at the stars. A tiny red dragon slithered through the sky above, shocking me out of my thoughts. My hand dropped back to my side, and I sighed my yearning away. My books were enough. They’d have to be.

  The image of stars shining into the library and all its muraled and painted glory faded, but the smell of dusty pages and the familiar whispers of adventure stayed with me.

  I was back in the dark expanse, watching the cloaked flame wander through the darkness to a great sea of shining lights. Guiltily, he passed by a great number of them with muttered apologies and promises.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Help us, they cried.

  I’m sorry, he told them, I’ll come back for you later, I promise.

  He turned his head as one shattered before his very eyes and walked faster as I was pulled along behind him, tethered by an unknown force. Time passed in an eternity and a second all as one.

  The words altjiranga mitjina popped into my head.

  I’d never studied the Arrente language, but I knew what it was. There wasn’t a proper term for it in English. It was the dreamtime, where past, present, and future moved simultaneously.

  Not yet, said the flame. Those thoughts burned away.

  He continued walking, heading deeper and deeper through the timeless space. As we drew closer to our destination, I felt another tug. The cloaked figure followed the same path I was drawn to, and I quickly realized he was pulled along by the same force.

  Amusement flickered from the flame at the thought.

  A tiny, inconspicuous glimmer of gold shone and drifted above the waters ahead. I knew as soon as I laid my eyes on it that it was what we were there for.

  The dim light flickered as it lost more of itself.

  Help? Its ‘voice’ was as weak and frail.

  I’m sorry I was late, the flame apologized.

  The light drifted up to him, halting at eye level. Help?

  The cloaked flame reached his hands out to the light, cupping his palms beneath it. Help. Gently, with more care than I’d seen anyone hold even the most fragile glass, he cupped his hands around the light, bringing it close to his chest. The light disappeared into the flames, nestling itself where his heart would be.

  The flame looked at me. You haven’t recognized her yet.

  Recognized who?

  His hand hovered above his breast, where the light resided. I knew he was smiling at me, even if I couldn’t see his face beneath the hood.

  Past, present, and future, he mused, I wonder which is which?

  I thought about his words.

  The path we’d tread must be past, for this was when he’d collected the fragment for the star. If that was the past, then the star in the library must take place in the future of the restored universe. The return of the fragment to the collapsing star was the present. Isn’t it obvious?

  Is that so?

  I drifted closer to the surface of awakening. Fear clutched at my heart. I didn’t want to wake up yet, not when I felt on the cusp of discovery. Will I remember this?

  Perhaps. Most dreams are forgotten.

  Will this one be?

  Dreams are never truly forgotten. Like all memories, they’re buried deep behind lock and key. Sometimes, when you need them, they’re remembered. No sooner and no later.

  I thought of Sera’s father and wondered if that were true. If they’re only remembered when I need them, why can’t they wait until then?

  That’s like asking why the sun exists when the moon has risen. Because they need to be.

  Red light drifted in through my eyelids. I clung to the dream as I dug through my backpack, searching for a notepad to replace my dead phone. The sharp papers stung my fingers, and I pried it and its pen free.

  The nub of the pen hovered above the lines on the page. What did I want to write again?

  So, due to my passion for language, I have a few lexicons. One, titled They Have a Word for It: A Lighthearted Lexicon of Untranslatable Words and Phrases by Howard Rheingold, is where I got the word and the definition, though the lexicon took a few pages to explain it. Basically, it’s a word for dreams being the realm where every person ever’s dreams collide (with particular emphasis on receiving ancestral knowledge through your dreams). A simple Google search of the words wasn’t enough for me to verify the information in the book, and the direct translation of it is closer to ‘ancestral song’ or ‘song of creation’. Still, I quite like the translation Rheingold used, and it suits the current chapter, so I decided to put in an abridged version of his definition that fits my needs. I’m unsure I truly conveyed the meaning in so few words, so if anyone wishes to see his full, multi-page explanation, just lmk and I’ll see what I can do. It’s listed as being an untranslatable word for a reason!

  Side note: I just love how it incorporates the word for ‘song.’ Just makes me think of how integral music is to humanity. It makes sense when you think about it–our brains are wired to find patterns, and what is music, if not a pattern of sound? I also love how absolutely incredible ancient engineering was when it came to sound. Did you guys know that in a few (known) underground cities, there were essentially control hubs where they’d use the way sound echoed through the entire city to receive and distribute information? And then, in ancient stages and stuff, they were shaped to carry the sound through the entire audience area. IT’S JUST SO COOL.

  You can bet that I have a story coming up (in 10 worlds, anyway) that’s inspired by all the cool things our ancestors did with sound and believed sound could do (which is actually backed up by science, but that’s a discussion for another time).

  In the comments, pop in and let me know any other interesting words you know without a proper translation! I’ll be very interested in hearing them!