She came awake all at once. No, she realized. She wasn't awake. This was a dream, she was dreamwalking. It was a forest, light filtering through the trees. She'd never managed to dreamwalk before the moon's glow was strong in the sky. Climbing to her feet, she glanced around, rubbing her arms. It was cold, the forest floor heavy with fallen leaves, lined with frost crunched beneath her feet.

The forest was hauntingly familiar. She'd visited it twice before, though in a more pleasant season. The forest was decidedly unwelcoming in this state of impending frost and snow. She trudged ahead, thankful the snow had not yet fallen, and distorted the landscape further. It would be difficult enough to find her way to the path. She'd only traversed it twice before, both times with Rand's guidance.

Her heart ached at the thought of him. Would she really find him here? If so, how would she return him to his body? She took a deep breath, determined. If she didn't stumble across the path, surely the lake wasn't far off. Without the moon's luminous glow to guide her, or Rand's reassurance, she felt lost.

Cutting through the thick underbrush, stumbling from time to time. Eventually, she came across a path, a narrow game path if anything, but it was something. She followed it, hoping it would lead to the lake. Surely the wildlife would need to go there to drink.

The path wound through the trees, deeper and deeper. The lake, nowhere in sight, the forest silent all around her.

A meadow, vast and icy in the chill winter air opened up before her. In the middle was a large rock and a man was perched there, flute in hand. As she stumbled forward, her heart beating wildly at the sight of him. He was dark, lean, and tall, his skin a deep olive hue, hair thick and worn long, a mass of dark locks framed strong features. She'd recognize those features, that build, the casual self-confidence with which he sat anywhere.

Before she could speak, bring herself to call out to him, he brought the flute to his lips and began to play. It was hauntingly, beautiful, and familiar to her in an almost painful sort of way. It was the song he'd sing to her when she was upset, when she lost in the throes of painful flashbacks, locked in the prison of her own mind.

She stood on trembling legs, disbelieving. Could he see her in this strange in-between world? Or was she simply a spectator to the place his soul had escaped to?

"Rand?" she tried, her voice cracking with emotion. The playing continued on. She stumbled forward a few steps on trembling legs. She tried again. "Rand?"

The playing faltered and he lowered the flute, staring at her. Her chest felt tight, and all she could manage was a smile, her eyes welling with tears. He could see her.

He slid from the rock and gathered up the bag by his feet. "Do I know you?" he asked, approaching her.

It was if the breath was knocked from her. She found herself gasping for air. "Rand," she whispered. Disbelief locked her in place, her thoughts sluggish. How could he not remember? It was then that she noticed his hands. They were no longer scarred and broken like the man she knew. Those hands were not just healed, but a young man's hands, limber and able to play as she'd only heard Rand play twice before. He was somehow locked in the past, in the man he'd been before she'd known him.

He stood so near now. It would only take a few steps to close the distance between them. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting back the urge to run to him.

"You do look familiar. Are you staying in one of the other cabins?"

She shook her head, fighting back the tears. "No, no. I'm only passing through," she replied. "I'm lost, though," she realized. "Perhaps you can show me the way to the lake?" She doubted she was ready to bring him back to his body, her abilities still too untried. But she'd found him, and that was enough.

"Sure," he said, offering her his arm. "I know these woods like the back of my hand," he said with a boyish smile.

She wiped at her face and smiled before slipping her hand in the crook of his arm. It was good to feel him, to walk next to him, alive and well. "Thank you, I was getting worried I wouldn't ever find my way."

"No problem, I'm glad I was here to help." He continued on, guiding her and filling the silence with small talk. "Its funny, I've been here for a few weeks now, and you're the first person I've run into. It's such a nice summer, you'd think there'd be someone in one of the neighboring cabins."

She sighed, realizing he didn't see the forest as she did, the trees bare of leaves, the sky overcast and cold as it slipped towards the dark days of winter.

"I think Mother is lonely. She loves to host, and there's been no one to invite." He turned to her. "Do you think you could stay for a while? It would cheer her up, I'm sure."

She nodded, her voice caught in her throat. "I'd love to," she'd croaked out. "Though I don't know how long I have..."

"Oh," he replied.

She glanced away, he sounded hurt. So childlike and vulnerable in this strange state of his. "I just, I might have to leave soon," she tried. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe you can come back, then, soon?"

She smiled, the tears rising in her eyes. "Of course. As soon as I can."

"Well, here we are," he said as they approached the cabin. She stared up at it and wondered what he saw. Was it covered in moss, long abandoned, and shuttered against the oncoming snow? He turned to her, tentatively. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head and followed him up the steps. "No, no. It's just a beautiful house."

He beamed, "It's Mother's special place. She says it's too big for us, but Father always insists on more than necessary," he explained, pulling open the door.

She stared, wondering if she would even be able to enter. There was a lock there, heavy and unyielding, and yet, somehow he pulled it open with ease. She hesitated, and he motioned her in. "Come on."

"No, no, Rand," called a voice from within. "I'll come on out."

Ellette sighed, and leaned against the porch railing, glad she wouldn't have to test her theory and chance shattering his reality. He turned to her and shrugged. "I guess Mother saw us coming. Come, sit," he gestured to the table on the porch.

A lovely woman in her fifties, joined them, carrying a pitcher and glasses. "Ellette," she said softly, "so nice of you to finally join us." Evelyn was as Ellette remembered, salt and pepper bob perfectly coifed, casually dressed in a floral smock and capris. It was perpetual summer for her as well.

Rand laughed, "So you know Mother? I knew you looked familiar."

Ellette only nodded, the sorrow in Evelyn's eyes speaking volumes. Unlike her son, Evelyn was aware that they were nothing more than a pair of lost souls trapped in this sanctuary of their past.

"You know, Rand, I seem to have forgotten the cookies," she said, her eyes never leaving Ellette. "Would you mind running in for them? They're fresh out of the oven, just put a few on a plate..."

Ellette watched him go, feeling the tears rise in her eyes once more. She could feel her time here was growing short. She would be waking soon.

"You have to take him home," Evelyne said firmly, startling Ellette out of her reflection.

"Don't you think I'm trying?" she snapped back, "I would do anything..."

"He's losing himself here, Ellette! He's forgotten so much."

Ellette could feel the pressure building in her skull. She was fading already. "I'm sorry, Evelyn. I'm so sorry..."

And then, she was back in her body, gasping for air, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lana was there, working the butter churn noisily. She paused realizing her pupil had finally come round.

"Any luck?" she asked.

Ellette sat up, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Yes," she croaked out. "I found him, but what now? How do I get him back?"

"Opening gateways, slipping between realities, that's my specialty," Lana explained, climbing to her feet. "Only you have the gift to separate the soul from the shell."

"I need to know how to rejoin a soul to its body," Ellette begged, raw emotions bringing about a sense of urgency.

Lana came to her side, "Ellette, inter-realm travel is all I know. What you ask is surely possible. But I am not the one to teach you."

"Then who?" Ellette asked, still coming to terms with what she'd seen.

"Only a dreamwalker. What you seek, what you desire had everything to do with the curse of the dreamwalker."

"Curse of the dreamwalker? Where do I find another like me?"

"Dreamwalkers are the rare few who can separate body from soul. It is both a gift and a curse. I know little else. Only Louie has the answers you seek. If anyone knows about dreamwalkers, Louie does."

Ellette nodded and climbed wearily to her feet. The experience had been exhausting, but at least now, she had hope. She had found Rand's soul, as lost as he'd been. She wiped at her face again. "I have to go," she muttered.

"I know," replied Lana. "But do come back soon. Bessy will miss you if you don't."

Ellette laughed and glanced down at the little doe sprawled across the doorway of Lana's cottage. "Silly goat," she said, scratching it behind the horns, just way she liked. The beast lifted her head up, blinked lazily at her, and went back to sleep. "Thank you, Lana," Ellette called out before making her way out of the cottage, through the magical garden, and onto the icy streets old town of Steinburg.

The apartment was dark was empty when she arrived. She was thankful she knew the route home well, her mind elsewhere. She didn't bother to flip on the lights, only drifted to the massive panoramic windows that lined the wall of the living room. Though she loved the view, it was hard to get used to living so high above the city. It was so abstract, just a twinkling of lights, silent and ominous. Instead of being able to see the individual people watch them living out their lives from a distance as she had at her old apartment, this view showed her the city as an entity, alive and pulsing, all as one.

It reminded her of Rand, of the night he'd taken her out on the boat to stargaze in the mountains. She pressed her hand against the glass, annoyed by the barrier it presented. She wanted to feel the open air, see the lights unobscured by the glare or the fog of her breath on the glass. Before she'd even fully realized her intent, she was out the door of the apartment, climbing the stairs to the roof, key in hand. Boris had shown her the key, told her about the view, but she'd yet to take advantage. Now seemed like the perfect time.

The door was heavy and she had to put her full weight into it before she stumbled out onto the roof. A gust of wind caused her to stumble and she righted herself stubbornly. The air was crisp, cold, and faint mist of low hanging clouds hung in the air. She made her way to the edge, staring at the breathtaking view before climbing onto a ledge to sit, pulled her legs to her chest, her head resting on her knees.

She couldn't help but imagine Rand out on the lake, right now, staring up at the night sky. Though the stars were few and far between with the heavy cloud cover, the twinkling lights of the city shimmered below her like an ocean of stars. Like the last night they'd spent together.

"Lana tells me you found your wings."

Ellette looked up, startled by the intrusion. "How'd you know I was up here?"

Boris shrugged. "It's my job to know things."

Ellette forced a smile and straightened. "She told you what? Wings? I don't know what you mean..."

"You've found the way to slip through the Otherworld without the guidance of the moon."

"I traded moon for the Lana. She helped me," she rubbed her arms, realizing how cold she'd become.

"It's a step in the right direction," he said simply. "Now come on down, before the pizza gets cold."

She laughed, and wiped away the lingering moisture from her cheeks, and hurried after her him. "Pizza again?"