The nights were no longer restful.
After the conversation with Orzoth, I tried to sleep thinking maybe his words would have some effect, that maybe I'd wake up more centered. But what came that night was different from anything I'd ever felt.
The dream didn't begin like the others.
There was no shape, no landscape, no familiar scent of any known place. It was like falling with my eyes open into a space where there was no ground, no sky, where the laws of the world were suspended. And within that void, a memory touched me — but it wasn't mine.
I felt someone else's skin. Saw through eyes that weren't mine. A battlefield unfolded ahead, but not with the same colors. The sky was covered with stars that moved as if following orders. On the ground, bodies that didn't seem human or draconic, but rather something... forgotten. In the center of it all, someone raised a sword glowing with words floating around it.
That figure... was me.
Or looked like me.
