Talia, p. 20

* written shakily, occasional drops of tears and wine smudging the page*

The dreams continue, the nightmares change, they become more real. I only hope I wake from this one soon. I had left the market, sales being slow, and decided to check the League mail at the Pride. There were letters for orders of armor and leathers, I filed these for Ingavar. There was also a folded letter bearing my name. I opened it. The letter began both eloquent and impersonal “Dearest Merchants”. This Phoenix wrote of dark events, of things I can scarcly believe. In plain speech he advises that our beloved Sindy has been murdered. Without pause he outlines the fate of the killer. The room begins to blur and the darkness begins to close. I know I am dreaming. I must escape. I lunge for the door as bodies rise up from no where. Hands reach out, buffetting me from side to side. I press on, away from their grasp, into the night air. I hear muffled calls from behind, which lend wings to my heels. Twisted faces turn in surprise as I run past. I do not care.

I find myself now, in a room, several candles burned out on the desk. I sit alone, the bed untouched, as I write. I cannot wake up, I am trapped here. And yet, I dare not sleep… for what dreams may come to one already dreaming, what nightmares and terrors would await one twice removed from the living lands. I start another candle before the last sputters out. I have another sip of wine and lean back in my chair. Out the window, I watch as the sun rises and falls.

I sit… I watch… and I wait to awaken…

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