I wake to too much light coming through the window.
For a few seconds I stay still, still caught in the feeling of that battlefield. Smoke, broken structures, machines I'd never seen, and Duvilin thrown against metal before he could loose the arrow. The image loses force as the room reasserts itself, but it leaves an uncomfortable unease behind my eyes.
I turn to the clock.
08:00.
"Shit."
I slept more than I meant to.
I sit on the bed and run my hands over my face, trying to decide whether the dream deserves more attention or whether it's just one more thing to add to the growing pile of problems I still can't explain.
It could have been a vision of the future.
The possibility doesn't last long.
I lived another ten years in Thirstfall. I never came across those machines, never knew the creatures bound to metal structures, and never saw a city like that one. If it belonged to the future, it was beyond any period I'd known.
The past makes more sense.
