Shaking off the Dust

-Wake up…-

Dark lashes fluttered fitfully, but refused to open. A long breath was taken in, and a faint smile touched moist lips, and then the breath was exhaled in a deliciously relaxed sigh.

-Wake up little mage…-

Thomas turned away from the sound, the smile slowly fading. His shoulders hunched up in vain to protect him from the intruding voice.

-You must leave little mage…-

Gravity slowly took control as his muscles relaxed again. His chin swiveled to the side. Three things happened simultaneously at a particular instant.

His cheek touched cool stone.

The warmth of sunlight vanished.

And the voice spoke one last time.

-You must leave… It’s here. -


Thomas Dreamchaser’s dark eyes snapped open, blinded by the darkness of the corridor he found himself in. Another sigh escaped his throat, much quieter than the first. It was heavily weighted with annoyance, and perhaps a pang of sadness as well. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he glanced to the side and the source of that light. A sigil of a dragon gripping the edges of a mystic portal glowed faintly and cast a soft hue to the otherwise black stone of the hall. For a long while, the once-mage simply blinked lazily against the gentle gleam reflected off of the floor beside him, allowing himself to readjust. Soon, however, his back protested the uncomfortable position it was required to take in supporting him against the wall. Just as he was about to stand up, movement caught his eye.

A tiny little mouse, scurrying with a determined pace down the opposite side of the hall, separated from the gloom that permeated this place. Another lazy blink, and Thomas’ vision cleared enough for him to recognize the diminutive shape.

“Wait…” he paused, mentally searching for a memory that had nearly slipped through the cracks. “I know you…”