I woke up standing on a bloody battlefield. I looked at my hands. No surprise, they were covered in blood. I had never been in my dreams before. I always watched them like a movie. Now, I was the main character.

I stood up and scanned the scene with smoke stinging my eyes. Lifeless bodies covered the ground. The sky was red and dusty from explosions and blasts of magic. A giant building bore the brunt of the onslaught, metal walls bombarded with flames.

My eyes stopped drifting as they focused on a painfully familiar face. I shivered in fear. My eyes were blurred by tears, but I still could see the face of someone I knew. In a state of terrified curiosity, I rushed closer.

Bloody and bruised, his lifeless body laid with sticky black liquid piled on his chest. A shattered bottle beside him.

Petrified, I rushed away, tears streamed down my face. My legs ached as I rushed away from the battlefield, jumping over pieces of rubble. Glass shattered behind me as I rushed away. I whipped my head back to find an ugly goblin throwing vials of dark potions at me with his grubby hands.

I let out a petrified shriek as I felt glass shattered on my back. The potion began to seep into my skin. My movements slowed and I fell to the ground.

"Help!" I cried weakly. An elven soldier looked over at me, but after seeing the damage, he turned away. It was then that I realized the situation was hopeless.

I was going to die and there was nothing I could do.