Dreambook Entry I — When I Couldn’t Breathe, You Hummed
A quiet moment between Velune and Loomi, her bonded Luminary.
This is the first entry in a series of dream fragments I’ll be sharing as part of the world I’m building around Velune, the Sleepwalker.
I don’t know how much more I can hold.
These dreams aren’t mine. But I carry them like bruises that never heal.
Some nights I wake up and I’m not even sure what’s me anymore — just scraps of someone else’s grief sewn into my chest.
They all want something.
Peace. Healing.
A light I barely have anymore.
And I try. I always try. Even when I’m falling apart in ways I can’t explain.
But you’re still here, Loomi.
You don’t speak in the waking world.
You just hum — soft, like you’re reminding me I’m not gone yet.
It always starts in my chest. Just a warmth.
Not enough to fix it… but enough to make me stay.
I know no one else can feel you.
Sometimes I think maybe I’m not supposed to either.
But when everything’s too loud, too heavy,
when I start to slip under again…
You hum.
And I remember I’m still here.
So I keep going. For them. For the ones who still dream.
For you.
And if I break again…
Please, Loomi…
Just hum a little louder.