Aeron lay on the cold, hard stone floor of the dungeon, his body restless even in sleep. His face twisted as if he were fighting something.
Again, the voices came. The same voices he had heard before. Screams of men, women, and children. The clash of swords on the battlefield. He tossed and turned, shaking his head. But they only grew louder and were pressing into his mind until he quickly got awake and was drenched in sweat. His heart beat heavily.
It was the third time. The third night these visions had come to him, each one worse than the last. Each time, the screams were clearer and closer.
He dragged himself to the wall and leaned against it, trying to calm his breath. That was when he heard a voice.
"Having a nightmare, Aeron?"
