Ever since Lune returned from his trip to Bellmoril, one that was supposed to be relaxing, he had the same recurring nightmare. His sleep was disrupted and the bags under his eyes grew thick and deep. Niyari had tried to help, but there wasn’t much the nin could do. As soon as Lune’s head hit the pillow, he was on the oddly formed mountain plateau. It jutted out unnaturally against a misty purple sky. In the middle of the crumbling cliff, his beloved shrine sat, split down the roof and front wall. A large purple glowing creature surrounded by miasma grew from the shrine. It towered over Lune and panic filled his chest. His body screamed for him to run and so he did. And suddenly he was awake again. No rest, his heart beating rapidly. When would this nightmare end?
