The village was still there when Kaelen looked out the window. The same cluster of stone houses. The same well in the center of the square. The same broken bell tower on the chapel. But something was different now. The light was wrong. The shadows stretched in directions that made no sense. The air had a thickness to it, a weight that pressed against his skin.
He was dreaming again.
He knew this because he could feel the pull of something familiar. Something that resonated with the hollow place in his chest where the void had taken root. He looked down at his hands. They were solid now. They were real. But they were not his hands. They were smaller. Younger. The skin was smooth and unmarked. The fingers were delicate. The nails were clean.
He raised his hand and touched his face. The features were unfamiliar. The cheekbones were softer. The jaw was rounder. He was looking through someone else's eyes. He was seeing through the girl's eyes.
