The Night She Dreamed the Island Had Abandoned Her

She dreamed that she had run aground.

Not docked. Aground.

The entire ship lay broken on the shore.

Hull split. Rigging torn. The mast collapsed in the tidal flats, half-buried in wet sand.

That was her body. And it was her name.

A vessel that had once crossed through storms — Now a wreck forgotten by the world.

She knelt down, trying to lift a piece of the familiar hull, Only to see the faded carvings once etched on it.

The songs of her ancestors, The memories of warriors, The whispers of sages, The strands of the clouded leopard's fur —

All of it had faded.

The sigils dissolved into dust beneath her fingertips, Soundless, Scattered into the wind.

"Where… is this?" she murmured.

But there was no wind. No waves. Only pale light and a hollow silence.

She turned, Searching for those who had walked this path with her.

Xinyao. Yuxi. Chengyu. Even the clouded leopard…

Where was he?

Why wasn't he here? Why couldn't she even remember why he wasn't here?

Only an empty shore remained, As if the island had spit her out and said:

"You no longer belong here."

She opened her mouth to shout — But no sound came.

Even the right to speak Had been taken from her.

Then, A whisper rose from beyond the horizon.

Not a voice — Something older, As if the land itself had opened its mouth.

"If this land no longer chooses you… Will you still choose it?"

She jolted awake.

She was still on the rocking ship. The ship — her body — Still solid beneath her.

On the journey back to the island, The boat rocked gently with the tide. Moonlight lit her face — As if the dream had only been A dream.

She sat up. Forehead soaked in cold sweat.

Left hand pressed to her chest. Her heartbeat Still racing.

The stars overhead were unchanged. The wind glided quietly over sailcloth and sea. But she knew —

This wasn't just a dream.

It was a prophecy.

And the prophecy whispered:

Departure was never the end. The real choice only begins when you return.

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