The Desert & the Dreamer.

The dreamland was quiet tonight.

Too quiet.

The silver dunes stretched before Layla, still glittering faintly under the moonlight, but the air felt heavier somehow ... as though something unseen was pressing down on the glassy sands.

She stood on the edge of the fantasy land, the glowing crystal lantern clutched in her hand.

Its light was dimmer than ever now.

And Malik's whispers, so quick to greet her every other night, did not come at once.

Her breath quickened as she stepped forward, searching the horizon.

"Malik?" she called softly.

The wind picked up, tugging at her hair.

Then, faint and low ... as though coming from far away .... his voice answered:

"Dreamer…"

Her heart leapt at the sound, but when she turned toward it, she froze....

He was not waiting on the dunes as usual.

Instead, he stood in the center of the dreamland, on a stretch of sand she had never dared to cross before ..... where the dunes fell away into a vast, dark plain.

The stars above that plain burned faintly red, and the ground shimmered as though it were not entirely solid.

And Malik… Malik was different.

His robe clung to him like liquid gold, and his glow was stronger than ever ... but unsteady. Flickering. Cracking faintly at the edges.

She ran to him.

When she reached him, he turned slowly, and his golden eyes met hers.

But they looked tired now.

She reached for his hand. "What is this place?"

He stared out over the plain, his jaw tight.

"The secret," he murmured at last.

Her fingers curled tighter around his. "What secret?"

Malik's gaze softened at her question, though his lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"The secret of what we are," he said. "And what we can never be."

The words chilled her.

She shook her head. "Don't say that. Don't talk like that."

But he only lowered his eyes to the shifting sands beneath their feet.

And finally, he told her.

"This land," he began softly, "is not only a dream, Layla. It is a bridge. Between you… and me."

Her heart thudded painfully.

"A bridge?" she whispered.

"Between the living… and the ones who are not," he finished.

The words hung heavy in the quiet air.

Layla felt her breath catch.

Her mind rebelled, but some part of her .... the part that had always felt the faint wrongness beneath the beauty of their world ... already knew.

"You mean…"

Malik's eyes closed briefly, as though the truth cost him to say.

"I was never meant to return to you," he said quietly.

"The night you freed me from the Sultan's curse, I was already… fading. Already lost to the wind."

Her hands flew to his chest, clutching his robe. "No! Don't say that .... you're here! You're with me, every night...."

"Because I fight for it," he interrupted gently, his hands coming up to cover hers. "Every night, I fight. Against what nature decided. Against the darkness that waits for me beyond this dream."

Layla shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "I don't care. I don't care what it takes. Stay with me. Just… stay."

Malik's lips curved into a sad, tender smile,

and his fingers brushed the tears from her cheeks.

"Oh, Dreamer," he whispered, "I would stay with you until the stars themselves go dark.

But every night takes more of me. Every dawn steals another piece."

She buried her face against his chest, feeling the faint, fragile warmth of him.

"You never told me," she whispered.

"I didn't want to break the dream," he murmured. "I wanted you to have this… for as long as I could give it."

The ground beneath them shifted then, a faint crack splintering through the glassy surface of the dreamland.

Layla flinched as the stars above flickered faintly.

"What's happening?"

Malik's hand tightened around hers.

"The dream is cracking," he said. "Because my time is cracking. The bridge grows weaker."

Her breath came fast, her mind racing.

"No," she said fiercely. "There must be a way. You fought the Sultan's curse. You fought the darkness before. You can fight this too."

Malik's golden eyes softened at her words, and for a moment his glow flared faintly brighter .... as though her hope alone gave him strength.

"You are my strongest reason to fight," he said softly. "You are my moon, Dreamer. My light."

He cupped her face in his hands then, and his voice dropped into the quiet poetry that always made her heart ache:

"Even if this desert forgets my name… let you remember me."

"Even if this wind carries me away… let it carry my love to you."

"Even if this dream ends… let me still belong to you."

Layla reached up, pressing her hands over his, as though she could hold him here by sheer will alone.

"You do belong to me," she said fiercely. "And I belong to you. Always. Do you hear me?

Always."

For a long moment, they just stood together in silence ... two fragile hearts trying to outlast the wind.

And though Malik didn't speak, though his golden gaze seemed to hold things he couldn't say, Layla thought she saw something new in his eyes now.

Something that looked like quiet determination.

Something that looked like hope.

He leaned his forehead to hers then, his hands tangling in her hair as he whispered his vow:

"If there is a way… I will find it. For you. Always for you."

She closed her eyes and whispered her own vow back to him.

"I'll wait. For as many nights as it takes."

When she opened her eyes again, the cracks in the ground had faded .... faint for now, though she knew they were still there, waiting.

But Malik's light, though fragile, burned a little steadier.

And when he kissed her forehead, his words brushed her soul like a promise:

"Even if the stars fall… my heart stays with you."

When she woke the next morning, she still felt the warmth of his hands on hers.

And the crystal lantern on her table… glowed just a little brighter...