Lin
For the first time in a long time, dreams.
The dream is vivid. She stands in a green valley, watching a man dressed in fine clothes, in the style of centuries ago, make his way toward a house that stands in the lee of a mountain. The door flies open as he approaches, and a woman and children run toward him with their arms outstretched.
But when he goes to embrace them, one by one they catch fire and burn. The man weeps, but he cannot seem to stop himself. Each member of his family that he wraps in his arms becomes a pillar of flame reaching to the sky.
The man falls to his knees among the pillars, his hands catching the grass alight. Soon the house is burning, too, and the trees, and everything green is turning to ash. cries out in pity and horror and the man turns to look at her, seeming unsurprised that she is there.
“ Hollazekyer di niellem pu nag, ” he says.
wakes, her heart pounding. Ever since she’d acquired the Source-Stone, she’s had strange dreams, though they were rarely so clear. She’d really thought she was in the valley, seeing the fire. Seeing the greenery turn to ash.
She rolls onto her side; she keeps her Source-Stone on the bedside table, where she can always reach it. She picks it up now, turning it over in her hand. “What are you trying to tell me?” she whispers.
The stone, in its silver setting, weighs heavy in her hand. More so than usual, she thinks—although perhaps she is imagining things? She closes her hand around it, only to feel a jolt of emotion go through her. It feels like fear—a fear that comes from outside her. As if somewhere out in the night, a storm is gathering. But she has never felt this before at the advent of lightning or thunder. It is as if the stone is warning her of a threat, something dark in the city, something that sings with a high, discordant note like struck crystal.
Something unnatural and malevolent.
Wondering and worrying, sets the brooch back down on the nightstand. She closes her eyes, visions of Source-Stones dancing in the darkness that come before sleep.