"You have to survive..."
"..."
"...No matter what."
"..."
"...Son."
"!"
Vance jolted awake, his forehead damp with cold sweat, breath coming in ragged gasps.
The nightmare had visited him again.
Fragmented images flashed through his mind, a figure pushing him into a hidden space, hushed, urgent whispers, then dozens of silhouettes arriving like harbingers of death. Voices raised in argument, the clash of steel, and finally that protective figure turning crimson... collapsing... dying...
His father, most likely.
The only clear memory from that blood-soaked night when his world had shattered and his voice had been stolen away along with his family.
I will find out the truth and get my revenge one day, he thought, clenching his fists until his knuckles went white.
He stood slowly and began preparing for his daily morning routine.
As he walked through the corridor, he encountered that man again. The half-elf with a spectral bond, Lumin the healer.
