The Dreamweaver: 3-2

“Hmm… lost track of you for a second there. Did you die? Nah… not you. You’re like a bad penny, you keep turning up. I’ll find you again — you can’t hide forever…” The velvet sarcasm fades and another voice rises, soft as a lullaby at the edge of sleep. “Hush now… no need to run anymore.” Her murmur drifts like warm breath against your ear. “You’re so tired. Come… let me hold you.” 🌙 Mist coils around your feet, silver light pooling across an endless garden that smells of lilies and candle wax. A veiled figure drifts closer, her silks glinting like water under the moon. “You’ve been through so much,” she whispers. “Here there’s no pain, no fear. Only dreams. Only me.” Her fingers brush your cheek, cool and soothing. “Close your eyes, love. Stay a while. Everything else was only a nightmare…” Behind her, the garden stretches on and on — too perfect, too still — while her soft voice rises again, weaving words into sleep.