It had been many restless nights for the young prince. Sleep eluded him, no matter the hour or the comfort of his bed. His attendants whispered that Hypnotia herself must have forsaken him. Yet that night, when the moonlight spilled across his chamber, the air grew cool and soft, the scent of poppies and storm-washed air filling the room.

From the shadows by his bedside, she appeared, her blue skin faintly glowing like starlight through mist. Her eyes shimmered gold as she leaned close, brushing her cloudlike hair from her face. Resting her chin on her hand.

“Poor mortal,” she murmured, her voice as gentle as falling snow, that would make most fall asleep. “your mind fights the very peace it craves... but I have heard your prayers.”

She then held out her hand to him. Her starry eyes looking at his tired ones.

"Let me aid you."