She is floating, flying, weaving in and out of the clouds. Lights below flicker, fade. She can feel herself falling, ever falling down, down.
She shivers. It's cold. Winter in the north, brutal and long. Skimming over the land, inches from the icy ground. Not touching. Everything blurry, haze making details impossible to see.
But she knows. Narfel. Land of the horse nomads.
She hears chanting, foul words that fill her with dread. A temple, ruined now, once dedicated to Selune.
She can feel herself being dragged, against her will into the depths of the once great temple, now befouled by darkness. She can't turn away. In the center of the great hall, is two circles of priests in dark robes. The walls are defaced now, the symbols strange.
She closes her eyes, but they remain open. In the center of the circle of priests is a circle of dark light. Captured within is a twisting, emphereal form. A soul trapped. Trapped... She can hear it screaming. But it makes no noise.
Too late, too late... Too late. The voices mock her.
Couldn't save the father, couldn't save the daughter. Couldn't save your own parents.
Failed. Give up little girl. You're playing with fire. It will burn you up.
The priests turn on her, flames spire from their hands.
Alethia jerks awake, sweating from the drug-induced nightmare. Safe. She turns, hearing soft voices, smiling a little as she recognizes that Maggie has awoken finally. "Just a nightmare," she whispers to herself, too low for anyone to hear. "I won't fail again," she promises to no one, to everyone. Her eyes close and she sends a brief prayer upwards.
Please, help us find Aleena... I don't want Cronos to have another soul to torment. Not if I can help it. Too many innocents... Too tired now, she falls back to sleep.