IBRIP l CH 141

Chapter 141

Several years ago

Millia was caught up in Noe’s strange power and became trapped inside Hojen’s dream. Three months later, she died there.

Before her death, Hojen tried everything to wake Noe—shamefully, even hitting the child, yelling at her, begging in tears.

But Noe never woke up. Sometimes, things from their house disappeared. Perhaps they had also been taken into the dream? He wasn’t sure. If that was the case, he should have realized much earlier that something like this could happen.

***

“Promise me, will you?”

Hojen held Millia’s frail, almost skeletal body and wept. In the dream, he could create anything, but Millia could take none of it.

She couldn’t eat the stew he made, and couldn’t drink the water. Even if she tried, it didn’t nourish her real body.

He had even tried giving her his own blood, but because he too was only a dream version of himself, nothing worked.

Slowly, Millia withered away. The only reason she lasted three months was because Hojen realized that time in the dream moved differently from reality. Millia’s time only flowed when Hojen was asleep and dreaming of her.

To keep her alive longer, he slept only three hours a day and used a special candle to bring her into his dream every night.

“When Noe wakes up, don’t say anything to her,” Millia told him.
“……”
“Tomorrow, wash Noe well. She likes to be clean.”

Even as she lay dying, Millia worried about Noe. Looking back, maybe she was simply exhausted. Caring for Noe demanded a lot of patience—especially at night.

Noe was afraid of sleeping. Sometimes she wouldn’t wake up for days. When she finally did, she would act like a completely different person—calling herself “Tali” or “Edgar”—because she had been trapped in someone else’s dream too long.

They began to doubt whether this so-called “blessing from God” was a blessing at all.

***

On the day Millia died, she said:
“I’ll go ahead and take care of Rose. You stay and watch over Noe.”

Hojen couldn’t bring himself to nod. Millia grabbed his sleeve, desperate for his promise. Still, he didn’t answer—he feared that if he did, she would immediately let go of life.

“Don’t tell Noe anything. Just say I was sick… that’s why it happened.”

“I can’t. Noe needs to know exactly what her power can do.”

“Please…”

He deliberately hurt her feelings, hoping she would hold on for even one more second. But eventually, she died. Hojen dug her grave with his bare hands.

Hojen had always lived to feed and protect his family—hunting deer and boar, picking fruit, making fires. But Millia died because she couldn’t eat or drink in the dream. The very skills he was best at—and should have used to save her—were useless there.

It all felt unreal, like a dream. When he woke, he found himself choking Noe’s neck. That, too, felt like a dream.

Was Noe really meant to be alive? Was she truly a child blessed by God? Could such a dangerous power—one that even killed her own mother—really be allowed to exist in this world? The prophecy had to be wrong.

***

Then Somtol (the small fuzzy creature) spoke:

“If you were going to do that, you should have given her to me back then.”

“Change your mind now?”

“She’s a bit damaged now, but I still like her.”

“If you give her to me, I’ll give you your eyes back.”

The words snapped Hojen back to his senses. He let go of Noe and collapsed. He remembered the day he had brought his family to the forest and met Somtol—back then, Somtol had taken the form of a dying old man fused with a tree root.

Hojen needed a place to hide. Somtol had wanted a young human host. Hojen loved Noe and gave up his eyes to protect her. Somtol, touched by his devotion, gave them shelter. Later, Somtol changed into a small, cute form to please Noe and lived with them.

“If you like human bodies so much, take mine,” Hojen told him.

“I like you. I’ll stay with you until you die, but I don’t want your body.”

For days, Hojen screamed and cried alone. But time passed—one month, two months, half a year. Eventually, he decided to honor Millia’s dying request. He washed Noe daily and cooked her favorite meals, waiting for her to wake.

One day, she finally did.

“Noe, you can pull things from reality into dreams. But if you keep using that power, your body won’t handle it. You should be careful from now on.”

He decided not to tell her Millia had been in his dream—if Noe knew, she might not be able to bear it. He didn’t tell her about Millia’s death either, letting her believe that maybe Millia still lived somewhere in someone’s dream.

Even Hojen began to believe it himself. That way, it hurt less.

Life returned to normal—hunting deer, picking fruit. He thought if he kept living like this, Millia would not be ashamed of him.

Then one day, Noe asked:

“Dad… aren’t you angry at me?”

Her eyes were completely lifeless—the same look he saw in himself when trimming his beard. She must miss Millia.

“It couldn’t be helped,” he told her, stroking her hair.
“Your job is to eat well and sleep well so your mom won’t worry.”

Noe’s face turned pale. The next day, she ran away.

Hojen thought: If God truly called her, maybe it’s time she followed her own path. If not…

Either way, he did not chase her. She would walk a different road from him.

***

Later…

Hojen dug up Millia’s grave again. Since it was a dream, he could have moved the earth with a thought, but he didn’t. Eventually, the coffin appeared. He didn’t want to open it, but his hands trembled as he slowly pushed the lid aside.

Millia looked as if she had just died—because time in the dream moved differently. He had promised to visit her grave only around her death anniversary, so not much “time” had passed here.

Feeling her neck, he found a thin silver thread and pulled it out. At the end hung a tiny bell.

He tried to remove the necklace, but the clasp wouldn’t come undone.

With a deep sigh, he sat back. What am I doing?

He had come here because someone had said holy relics could exist in dreams, but without Noe, he couldn’t take anything out of it.

Holding Millia’s dry hand, he whispered:

“Sorry for disturbing your rest. I think… I just wanted to see you.”

As he lay there, he suddenly heard a familiar voice:

“Dear! Dear!”

His head snapped up instantly.