Hopestar Books

The scene shifted, morphed, and changed altogether. He found himself amid onyx towers that glistened in the moonlight and stretched, drawn out, into the night sky. A malformed, shadowy, winged creature landed nearby and turned its distorted face towards him, opening its mouth in a deafening shriek. He had a brief sensation of free-falling through nothingness, and then, with his heart pounding, he woke up.

Jason was a boy whose dreams brought to life fragments of memories, dark fragments which contained smoke and fire, monsters and swords, pain and loss. These dreams haunted many of his nights, and in the morning, he’d try for a minute to unravel them, but just before they untangled, he’d stop and put the entire thing out of his mind. At breakfast, he told his father, Aroch Kane, about last night’s strange dream and how it seemed real, like flashes of a memory. His father, whose giant stature and steady nature were difficult to rouse, looked uneasy.

“Sometimes dreams are just dreams, son. And sometimes, pieces of the past are best left behind.”