What dreams do you have there, my child, sleeping in the dark? I hear from you now and then a laughing joy as you drift deep in your sleep.
I woke from a nightmare. One which encompassed the world.
Not just the world to which I see in passing, in my life and those around me, but one which held the world in a grasp from which escape seemed impossible.
Surrounded by those who claim to know, I find myself alone.
I speak as the elements use my voice to say the words for those who truly know.
There are words which I have lived by. Words which have offered encouragement and vision, words which I had never understood, yet always knew the meaning. For I have fought carelessly, and sought out blood when it was but a warm liquid which should only surge more from another than myself upon the ground.
One never expects the fanciful and fantastic to occur anywhere outside of stories. Only in legends and half forgotten memories do Gods ride upon the elements and heroes roam the world. So many places hold a relic, or even a spirit from ages past, it would be hard to believe any claims of authenticity, even if the fruits of those words stared one straight in the face.