
Sometimes he dreams
of running. He doesn't know what from, but he knows there are
others with him. He can't see their faces. A giant stone ring,
like the one in the ruins, looms up ahead but he never seems
to get any closer.
Sometimes he dreams of digging. The
sand is rough and sticks to everything, but he knows he has to
find something. He has tools but he doesn't know what they are
for. The faceless others are with him, standing in the shadows
around him. He wonders what they are waiting
for.
Sometimes he dreams of kneeling at a demon's feet.
Its face is shadowed, but the eyes glow with an unholy fire.
Its hand reaches out and burns his forehead, searing deep into
his brain, and he can't move no matter how hard he tries. As
the blood starts to trickle from his ears, he hears his voice
tell the demon, "I love you."
Arrom doesn't sleep much
anymore.
