As Katerin laid her head on the pillow, her thoughts still trying to grasp the truth of Juen'tal's answer, it seemed it only took a moment for her to fall asleep. Her dreams had drifted peacefully, lately. But tonight her luck left her, it seemed.

She found herself standing in a grand and shimmering palace. A throne room, she made out, as details came into focus around her.

"You have certainly made strides, my champion."

Katerin blinked as that seductive voice met her ears, and there was a form sitting tall upon a gilded throne.

A woman, with luxuriously long black hair, tipped at the bottom with a crimson so deep it resembled blood. Her lips were the color of rubies, her eyes shaded by coal, and a green so bright and so deep they could tear through any soul. The woman was hardly covered—no where near modestly dressed. Pale and heavenly skin peeked though a dozen places, as leather straps crossed her body to serve as clothing. Her face and figure was in perfect symmetry, or so it appeared to Katerin.

Lodyne? Katerin thought, struck by the beautiful form of the goddess, by the power her image exuded. She could hardly find words, and her mouth grew dry as she gazed at the goddess before her. She gulped, trying to shake herself from the goddess' presence.

"You are only dreaming. But I thought that since it has been so long, I might deign to show you my face." There was a soft chuckle. "Is it what you expected?"

Katerin stared at the woman, and she remembered the shrine she had once found in Holter's office in Anklestrap, long before she knew who this goddess was. She could see that likeness, now. Crude and almost insulting, in comparison. The woman before her held so much more power, so much cunning and grace, that it bellowed out from her to fill a grand space. "No," Katerin said, fighting a shake to her voice. "I expected someone beautiful."

Lodyne raised a single brow, amusement across her face. She tisked. "You still want to fight? I thought your little... excursion might have changed your mind."

"I learned quite a lot about you," Katerin said, realizing in that moment that she could not move. "And the more I learn, the less I fear."

Lodyne laughed. "You are brave, trying to lie to me." She leaned forward, with a playful smirk. "I am much more powerful than even a dragon of your realm, and they can comprehend the smallest of untruth's."

Katerin stared at the woman and tried to force her heart to a normal pace.

Lodyne stood from her throne, and swayed across the space between them. She stood twice as tall as Katerin, and her hand reached out and brushed gently along Katerin's cheek. A caress so full of power that it tingled down Katerin's spine in warning. "Accept me, girl. You cannot comprehend how much it can aid you, or how much I have already aided you, since your birth. I can help you. I can give you all you desire, and all that you ache for."

"All you offer is pain, and destruction, and wrath. I have seen enough of that."

"You think a drop of rain can equal the volume of an ocean?" Lodyne's eyes were pleading, almost convincing. "If you continue to fight me, you will lose all you love. This I can promise, child. And that pain... that pain will come to you too late. If you should keep up this game you think you can brave, I will leave you to suffer with no holds, and no hope to ground yourself with. I will let you drift in that misery, without a care."

"All you offer me now, Lodyne, is a chance to be a pawn."

"You already are one." Her words were a consolation as they escaped perfect lips. "I am only trying to convince you to see reason. Do you think your power, your magic, is all your own? I have been with you always."

"Always to cause pain," Katerin said, though her voice was weak, and her hands shook. In her mind a thousand doubts arose, telling her she had done nothing, that it all had been this goddess' plan.

"No. But I can do such things, if you would like to continue this pointless fight." Lodyne looked to her side, and her hand turned Katerin's to face to see the images she conjured.

There, standing, was Fykes. His shirt was dirty, and torn, and all across him were wounds of varying depths. But it wasn't the wounds that struck Katerin's heart. It was his eyes. So full of pain they were, that their lavender colored blurred and dripped from his face with pleading. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut but she could do nothing, as Brazen appeared. He sat on the floor and held his knees, while blood pooled from a wound Katerin could not see. He was weeping, and he called out her name, his chant growing ever more desperate, until it cut off in the middle and he sagged, no more blood left to give.

"If not to save yourself, Katerin... I ask you... what about them?" Lodyne's pout was a threat, but so subtle Katerin might have missed it, had she not been so angry. "You only make their fate worse, like the twist of a knife in a wound. "Do you want to lose your lover, your child, so badly?"

"You have no power over them," Katerin said, and the thought repeated in her mind, as she forced herself to believe that naivety. "I've seen those tricks before, and they failed in Byron's hands. So what makes you believe they'll work, now?" Her voice shook, though, and she knew her anger was as see through as lace, to the goddess.

Lodyne's laugh was earnest, as if laughing at a child who had just bitten into a sour citrus fruit. "I wonder where you find such beliefs, Katerin. They are amusing." Lodyne stepped back, and regarded her with a half smile and a gesture of her hand.

Katerin stood in a room that smelled of death, and sick and terror. There was no hint of Lodyne around her. She turned, and found a bed in the dark. Within it was a coughing, dying form. Brazen shook with chills, and his hands knotted in the blankets as though he was in pain. Sweat beaded on his brow and he whimpered. His every movement reminded her of watching the struggles of her father. All thought of the goddess left her, as Katerin rushed to his bedside.

"Brazen," she said, choking on her tears. "What can I do? What's wrong?"

His dull eyes locked on hers, and grew wide with terror. "Who are you?" The scream sounded painful, terrified. "Go away!"

"No," she said, as he began to thrash in the bed, tearing away from her as if she held a knife. "It's okay! I just want to help you!"

She reached out a hand, and Brazen threw himself to the floor to avoid her.

"Go away!" his words were a screech, and he choked on them. "I don't know you! Get away!"

"Brazen," Katerin pleaded, and she felt her heart wrenching in her chest, in so much pain that she grew sick. Now she could not tell if she beheld her father or Brazen, but it did not matter, for the pain was the same.

"You did this to me! You killed us!"

His words were so loud that she was pushed away, sucked into darkness and spun around, even as she tried to beg forgiveness, as she tried to comfort the doomed.

Now Katerin stood on a busy city street, but all the people around her huddled, and joy was in the air. It was so strong, that Katerin felt the urge to giggle, though she knew not why.

She remembered the dream with Brazen, but here, it did not matter. This was a day for joy! Love! As the feeling in the air gripped her, she realized she had to find Fykes. He would be celebrating, surely and she could not wait to celebrate with him.

The sun was bright over the city street, and her footsteps pounded as she ran. I have to find him, she thought, excitement threatening to brim over and bring her to tears.

"He's done it!" someone said, "A hero, all should know!"

"Lucky to love him," Another voice said, and the face was lustful and jealous.

Katerin heard them, and agreed. She knew it was Fykes, and gods did she know she was lucky.

"He's going to bring her," another voice said. "A beauty she must be, to warrant his attention so."

Now there was a crowd, and Katerin pushed though it, uncaring of a smashed toe or a shoving someone with her shoulder. Fykes was all that mattered, and she could see him, now. Standing on a podium, and smiling that mischievous smile.

She broke through the crowd, and rushed toward the podium, feeling light as a feather.

"I missed you," she said. She had not seen him in too long, and as she wrapped her arms around him, she felt whole and at peace.

Instead of accepting her embrace, Fykes stiffened, scoffed, and shoved her with enough force to unbalance her from the podium.

She landed on her back in the street, as the crowd hushed.

Suddenly the illusion of joy around her shattered, like a decanter hitting the floor. The bright happiness soured, and now all the crowd was dirty, the street was mud. Fykes stood above her, but the crowd held no adoration in their eyes, because they were staring at her with hatred.

Her breath caught, and she looked to Fykes for help.

His lip curled in disgust, and his eyes were wrong, as they looked at her. There was no care for her within them, only anger. Hatred.

"Fykes?" she asked, shaken.

"Who are you?" He asked, sneering.

"It's... it's me..." She looked at him and saw no recognition. "We... we are..."

"What?" he said. "Am I supposed to care for you?"

She blinked, and her gaze dashed across the crowd. "We share a home. You... you taught Brazen how to fish, and you..."

"No!" the crowd screamed. "She's a liar! She kills, she destroys!"

She started, as she pushed herself to her knees. "Please, Fykes." She pleaded, as the crowd grew angrier.

"Hang her!" The chant began, and hands reached out for her as she crawled through the mud.

Fykes made no move to help her, and only watched with a blank expression, as the crowd grasped her by her hair, her arms, and began to drag her away.

"Please!" She screamed, fighting against the crowd, and looking only at the man she loved. "Fykes, help me!"

Blows came at her, one after another. She felt her nose begin to bleed, she felt her ribs crack, and Fykes did not move. He watched her with a cold indifference, until her vision wavered from the beating she could not fend away, as no magic would come to her call.

Eventually he spoke, but she did not hear the words. The crowd moved away, leaving her curled up in the mud to held herself and weep.

He leaned over her, his face still wrong, too cold in appearance. He lifted her chin, and whispered. "Who are you to live, when those I love have died. Who are you to choose?"

She choked on her words to beg him for help, and cold darkness overtook her.

She was once again in that bright and shining throne room. But her heart still felt all of Brazen's screams, her body still felt every blow, and her mind reeled from Fykes words, and his uncaring, angry countenance. She held her knees on Lodyne's floor, and wept.

"Those are some fears you have, my child. They could make even my heart ache." Lodyne sighed. "Stop fighting me, and accept your lot, Katerin. I promise you there will be power. There will be no one to stop you. No one to hurt you. No one to challenge us. I can unlock everything, for you. You were meant to be mine."

Lodyne's voice was a poison in Katerin's ears.

Katerin could not look up, and she felt so weak she could hardly breathe. She tried to convince herself that none of this was real. She was, and continued to dream. But it felt so real, so possible and so full of agony that minutes passed before she could raise her head to the goddess. None of her fake bravado was left. She had no energy for coldness or spite. "Stop this. I want nothing to do with this."

"I cannot, until you accept me." Lodyne looked at her longingly, with sadness.

Katerin shook her head. She was so tired, and so fearful that more dreams would come. All she wanted was to wake up, to stay away from sleep, where Lodyne could not reach her. "I cannot accept you. I hate you!"

"If you insist, child." With those words, Lodyne was gone.

Katerin returned to the regular affair of her dreams, still unable to wake up. As though she would be forever stuck in the terror of sleep. Her fear gradually faded, but she did not forget what had caused it.

At one point she felt as though she was falling—or was it soaring?—and her vision looked down upon the world. Reclaimer's walked with heavy steps, their stride covering miles in a moment. They dwarfed mountains, and stepped on forests like a stallion might step on a leaf.

The ground beneath them shuddered, and energy shot from their hands—white and blue and blinding. Katerin could swear she could hear it, or smell it. It was the softest whisper, the smell of rain and dirt and new growth. It was life itself. But where it struck, after its blinding faded, there was nothing in its place, except for a torn thread of the universe, that hung tattered and flickering before it gave away to nothingness.

The oceans shook as the Reclaimer's walked, and a sound built all around her. It was a soft hum, that never wavered. The sound intensified so that by the time Katerin's vision changed again, she could no longer hear its shrill pitch.

She saw a gigantic dragon flying overhead a grand city. The red of the dragon's scales gleamed like gemstones under the sun, and with a roar that shook her to her core, fire fell from the dragon, like petals from a dying flower.. It shed it scales and gifted them to the city with a malevolent grin.

Katerin saw the magic in that fire, as energy fell, and sparked to a sticky, powerful life. The beat of the dragons wings was not a soft sound, but more akin to thunder, and the breaking of the earth. Muscle rippled across it's form, and it hovered above. As the fire it had shed began to land, she heard screaming in the streets, as a rift opened in the just beneath the grand castle. Lava spewed up from it, as it swallowed houses whole. Men in red armor turned to ash, and the King himself fell. She heard the clatter of his crown like it was the only sound, as slammed into smoking pavement, amidst ash, and coal.

Now she saw Alkyrindaun, floating with clouds surrounding it, as it was ripped from the dimension it called home. There was a flash, and Alkyrindaun appeared over a snowy, sharply peaked mountain. It wobbled as though it had been stuck, before it stilled and hung there.

Katerin's vision panned out—Over Luminya—she realized. All of this is happening over Luminya. She saw energy, blazing across the land. Frost clawed its way from the north, and the land morphed behind it to become barren and cold.

From the south, fire flew across the ocean, that tore furrows in the land so deep they formed deformations that could be riverbeds, or canyons and blackened everything it touched, and she was drawn with it, dizzingly fast, until the direction changed, and spun her.

Now from the east came a storm, booming, and so filled with electricity that her whole being hummed. It raged with the same intensity of the other elements, with a yearning and a pull that latched into her soul, and pulled her along with it. The storm willed her to follow, and heed it's desire.

Her vision pulled away from the storm, and across the land she could see a line of fire, a line of frost, and arcing electrical energy. All of it burst forward, and Katerin's eyes were drawn to where they would all crash together. Frost from the north, Fire from the south, and a storm, from the east.

They moved as it to converge, all of them unstoppable and pulling her along with them, towards the end of their path.

For right in the center of their lust, was Hearth-Home.

Katerin felt sick, as she watched the elements cascade. They clashed into the city and the burst of power that lashed out turned day into night, caused the oceans to boil, and the cities to topple. The explosion rocked Katerin so deeply that she felt pain crush her, even in her dream. And all she saw of the city when the explosion had passed was a blackened crater, surrounded by a dark and terrible energy that reeked to her spirit of sickness, death and undoing.

As she jolted awake, she could still smell smoke and electricity. Her lungs felt as if someone had slammed her into a wall, and she coughed, fighting herself for the right to breathe.

There was no light in the room, but the markings on her body—The mark of the Storm Bearer—blazed. So bright was it, that her eyes hurt, and her skin felt as though it was burning.

As her lungs ceased she scrambled from her bed, and her knees crashed with the stone of the floor, and scraped upon its rough texture. She crawled for a pitcher of water across the room. By the time she found it she could breathe again, barely, and she gulped it down before dousing herself with shaking hands.

She pushed herself up and darted for the railing of the balcony before she could think. She squeezed her eyes shut, and gripped the railing hard enough her knuckles were white. It was all too much, too much to think of and process.

After Lodyne had left her dreams, she had felt as though she stood at the center of that clash of energy, and at the same time she saw it all from above.

She was both at its center and outside of it all.

Was that the past, or the future, she thought, frantically. Was it Lodyne's manipulations? Oh, gods.

She gripped the railing like it was her only lifeline while she tried to process all her dreams, until her breathing calmed, to leave her ribs aching. She wiped the water from her face with pale hands, and looked up to the sky in horror. Eventually, the bright blue light of the mark faded from her skin, and Katerin turned back to her empty room with a shaken sigh, just as the sun began to rise.

A... summary of the path that lays before you, my champion. Lodyne's voice was clear in her mind, as if the goddess was standing right beside her.

All her thoughts of her safety vanished, and Katerin stood frozen in terror, staring at the water that dripped from her nightgown.

Now she had no escape, even when she was awake.

https://youtu.be/lojgpJwl1Pw