Callas stood alone in a large room. The walls, white stone, shading into granite mixed with pink quartz near the ceiling. Before her was an altar; to either side, two polished wood boxes. Coffins. She wore a familiar dress--black silk, a divided skirt, fitted bodice, her cleric symbol's green and gold shining against the dark material. Her mourning clothes. The room was silent except for her breathing. She brushed her unbound hair away from her face.
She took a step, and looked down as her boot slipped on the wet floor. The floor was awash with blood, the hem of her dress heavy with it.
Then she looked around.
Bodies were piled everywhere. Many looked burned, others had vines wrapped around their throats and had evidently been strangled to death. Some appeared to have had the life sucked out of them. And a few seemed to simply have had their throats cut.
Humans, elves, drow, and a few orcs, all lying dead around her. She realized that she was holding something in her right hand, and glanced down. A dagger, crusted with drying blood, her hand and wrist also coated. She closed her eyes as a familiar sorrow tore at her heart.
She set the dagger down on the altar before her, her hand leaving a smear of blood on the white stone. She called out, "Dream? Aiden? Riyor? Is anyone there?"
There was a cough from behind her, and she turned. Behind her stood Dream in human form, his steel hair and silver eyes contrasting oddly with the black clothing he, too, was wearing. At his shoulder hovered a translucent globe, as fragile-looking as a soap bubble. Dream said wearily, "We're here."
Aidan floated over to her, hovering near her. His voice sounded in her mind, for once without the odd inflections that he usually had. So this is where the path of love has led you. Was it worth it?
Callas' left arm cradled her abdomen as she said, "I'm not sure, Aidan. Ask me in a few months." She took a deep breath. "It's time. Let's see if we can find out if anyone else is alive, and go."
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Callas woke with Galvin curled around her, holding her tightly. She looked at the outlines of his face in the dim light, tracing the lines with her eyes over and over again. Finally, she closed her eyes, and let sleep reclaim her.
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