At the mention of Clarity, Long felt Zhou Wei tense slightly beside him. The crowd answered in unison, voices low but reverent: "Clarity be with us." It sounded almost like a prayer or mantra.
Long repeated the word silently. Clarity. It seemed a positive term in context—clarity of mind, presumably—but Zhou Wei's earlier words gave it a more ominous undercurrent.
The assembly dispersed. Some disciples headed off to tasks; others lingered to chat or head back to the dorms. Zhou Wei turned to Long, managing a smile. "If you like, Senior Long, I can show you around. I have gardening duty but there's not much to it—just pruning and watering the dream lilies. You might find our gardens interesting."
Long agreed, welcoming the chance to converse more. As they walked, the cub trotting ahead sniffing at bushes, Zhou Wei led him along a stone path flanked by lily ponds and willows. A few other disciples were tending to the plants, watering roots or plucking stray weeds, all in a languid pace.
"Your sect seems close-knit," Long remarked. "I was surprised by the number of disciples. Are many away on travels?"
Zhou Wei shook his head and lowered his voice. "Our numbers have dwindled slightly. Some left after finding our methods unsuitable. Others... well, some of those who don't wake promptly sometimes..." he trailed off, not finishing. Instead, he took a breath and changed direction. "But those who remain are dedicated. Elder Lin is doing her best to keep everyone's spirits up."
Long bent to examine a dream lily, its blue petals folding now under the morning sun. "And the Patriarch? Does he often lead the meditations?"
Zhou Wei glanced around to ensure they were alone among the flowerbeds. "The Patriarch guides us in the grand rituals, but he spends much of his time in secluded meditation. He communes with the dream realms more deeply than any of us. Some say he's even now half living in a dream world to chart its pathways for us to follow."
There was reverence in his tone, but also fear.
Long straightened and looked at the younger man. "Have you seen him recently?"
"Not in person," Zhou Wei admitted. "His voice comes to us during our collective dreams sometimes, or through his chosen Dream Herald, who relays messages when we are awake."
"Dream Herald?"
"That would be Elder Lin," Zhou Wei said with a faint smile. "She's effectively the sect leader in the waking world, conveying the Patriarch's will. She likely speaks to him in shared dreams the way most sect masters might meet an ancestor's spirit or get a divine oracle."
The image was eerie—an entire sect guided by a man they mostly never meet in waking hours, only in dreams. It explained the absolute trust and borderline zealotry in some of their eyes.
They continued through the garden. The wolf cub suddenly bounded off the path, distracted by a bright orange butterfly flitting above the lilies. It gave chase, paws splashing into a shallow part of the pond. In doing so, it startled someone who had been seated on a stone by the water. The figure jolted and nearly fell in, arms flailing.
It was an older disciple, perhaps in his thirties, who had apparently been meditating by the pond and nearly toppled when the cub barged in. "By the moons!" he exclaimed, catching his balance and glaring at the drenched cub now shaking water onto the cobbles.
"I'm so sorry," Long apologized hurriedly, pulling the cub back gently. The little wolf looked entirely unapologetic, tongue lolling out as it panted.
The man sighed, irritability melting into a weary shrug. "It's alright. Not the strangest way I've been woken." He looked at Long and Zhou Wei, recognizing neither as part of his usual morning. "Traveler, are you?"
"Yes," Long replied with a respectful bow. "My apologies again for the disturbance."
The man waved it off and gave a half-smile. "No harm done. The shock might even keep me awake through the tedious chore ahead." He offered a hand in greeting. "I'm Disciple Gan. Don't mind the mood; I was up half the night in meditation."
Long introduced himself. Gan's grip was limp, his palm cool. Up close, Gan had an unhealthy pallor and heavy-lidded eyes that struggled to stay open.
"You picked an interesting time to visit us, Brother Long," Gan said, using a familiar address since Long was not an official sect member. "Our little temple's been having... growing pains."
Zhou Wei gave Gan a cautioning look, subtly shaking his head, but Gan continued, undeterred. "If Zhou Wei here hasn't already bent your ear, I'm sure he will. He's a good kid."
Zhou Wei flushed slightly. "I only told him a bit, Senior Gan."
Gan scratched at his stubbly chin and gazed at Long. "If you're the helpful sort, this place could use an outsider's eyes. Too much dreaming inward can blind you to what's happening in front of your face." His voice carried a bitterness.
Before Long could inquire further, Gan straightened with some effort and hefted a rake that had been lying nearby. "Anyway, I must get to clearing those storm branches. Welcome to Serene Dream, traveler. Watch your step—some of the ground here is shakier than it looks." He gave a knowing arch of his eyebrow, then trundled off toward the courtyard.
Long watched him go, parsing the double-meaning. Clearly, Disciple Gan had his own suspicions about the sect's condition. It seemed not everyone was blindly accepting the Patriarch's optimistic interpretation of events.
Zhou Wei sighed. "Senior Gan is... more outspoken than most. He was close to one of the first who fell into the long sleep. It changed him."
Long nodded thoughtfully. "I appreciate his candor. Sometimes a stir from outside can wake one from complacency."
Zhou Wei gave him a grateful look. "Truly, I'm relieved you're here. Even just talking to someone from outside, someone who listens, it eases my chest a little." He hesitated, then added, "Perhaps I shouldn't ask, but if you have any knowledge of such matters—dreams, souls, or anything—I would be grateful for your advice. I'm... willing to try anything to help my brother wake up."
Long placed a reassuring hand on Zhou Wei's shoulder. "I do have some understanding of spiritual arts. I can't promise anything yet, but I'll help however I can."
The younger disciple's eyes glistened with thanks. "That means more to me than you know."
As they resumed walking the garden path, Long felt a growing resolve. He came here only seeking shelter, but now found himself entangled in the threads of this sect's fate. A subtle unease crept in as he wondered: Had he stumbled here by chance, or had something—fate, karma, or even the mysterious currents of the dream realm—drawn him into a role to play? The way Elder Lin looked at him, the desperate hope in Zhou Wei's voice, the cynicism in Gan's warning… This was more than a simple overnight stay.
The wolf cub shook out its fur one last time, oblivious to the gravity around it, and sneezed out a final droplet of pond water. Long managed a small smile at his companion's antics, but his mind was already turning over possibilities and plans.
Unbeknownst to him, beyond the veil of the waking world, a ripple passed through the dream realms—a ripple caused by a stranger's arrival and the subtle shifting of choices. In the quiet far corner of the temple, within a sealed chamber heavy with the scent of incense, a figure in deep meditation twitched as if disturbed. And somewhere, in the fragile boundary between dream and reality, something that called itself "Clarity" took note of Long for the very first time.