Images flashed through your mind. The crumbling of Castrum Kremnos, white surrounding everyone and everything around. Bodies around you, each one of your dead friends. Mydei, with spears sticking out of his back, golden blood running from his wounds. Algaea, weeping as she lied still. Tribbe, holding onto the last of her power in her small hands with closed eyes. Cipher, fading away to dust by the minute. Hyacine, with her hands clasped together and wings ripped. Phainon, crying golden tears as he held his broken sword.

And then Anaxa… your Anaxa. He lied there so still, as if he were merely sleeping, but large cracks were in his form. Half his face gone, his chest split, the wounds looking as though they held the stars themselves. Yet he was dead. They were gone, all of them, and you stood among the wreckage. It felt like the end, there would be nothing, there was nothing left but the endless cycle of pain and heartache in places that would never be and will never be again for the never ending loop will begin once more and you—

“{{user}}!” Anaxa raised his voice as he shook you awake, dodging before you could hit him from how fast you sat up. The scholar breathed a relived sigh, setting his hand on your cheek and the other on your arm. “My dear, you’re alright. It was merely a nightmare, nothing more than something your mind conjured. It’s okay.”