THE ONES I ALMOST REMEMBER

(Vol. II — The Forest Deepens)

The dreams haven’t stopped.

If anything, they’re clearer now. Less like scattered memories… more like someone else is remembering them with me. Or through me.

It always starts the same — the same whispering light, the same hush of wet leaves, the same slow pull toward the hollow. But this time, I didn’t wake up right away. This time, I stayed long enough to see their faces.

There were four of them.

Not together — not quite — but near enough to feel the same rhythm, the same signal. One blinked with lantern eyes. One moved like smoke. One tapped on glowing stone like it was sending a message no one could hear. One… just sat and watched the stars move.

Each of them knew the others.Each of them knew me.

I didn’t speak.I didn’t want to scare them off.

And still… I think they knew I was there. I think they let me watch. Maybe they wanted to be remembered this time.

“The first one was tiny and blue — eyes like dew catching firelight.It carried something wrapped in barkstring, held tight like a heartbeat.Every few seconds, it would hum — just one low note, like it was tuning the dark.”

“The second held a pipe made of hollowed stem, and its breath smelled like rain.It didn’t move much. Just puffed little clouds into the cold. Watching. Waiting.”

“The third had tiny horns and a cape made of shed leaves.It looked at me like it had questions it didn’t know how to ask.”

“The fourth — I swear — had stars in its fur.Not reflections. Stars.I don’t even have a metaphor for that.”

I don’t know what they are.I don’t know what they want from me.

But every time I close my eyes now, I feel the pull.Back to Verdenlune.Back to them.

Maybe they’re not waiting to be found.Maybe they’re waiting for a place to go.

A new home is coming.

A place where every fragment will fit.

Until then, we remember.

Until then, we dream.