Carsonomel had been sleeping for years, he had just began to dream. At one moment he was floating through nothingness, the next, he was back in the fight, watching his Teacher become torn into pieces and burned. He screamed within the dream as he felt his wounds in his dream, he hadn't fed before sleeping so his wounds had not had sustenance to heal. He charged one of the assailants in his dream and as he slashed with his sword he fell into darkness again. Floating endlessly in darkness it seemed, but not the kind when you are asleep and devoid of dreams, but like he was lucid dreaming within a void.  He felt weightless, his rage and sorrow still burning within him. Suddenly his Teacher appeared before him, and he was instantly calm. [i]Awaken.[/i] His Teacher said. [i]You are needed above. There are those you must protect, your true family.[/i] Carsonomel began to sob. "But I couldn't even save you!" he cried, "How can I protect others when I cannot protect my closest friend, my maker, my Teacher." His Teacher floated closer to him and put a hand upon his shoulder, smiled, and Carsonomel woke up.

His eyes opened quickly and he sat up quickly, pulling dirt with him, but he was still submerged. He then rose his arms, which took all of his strength, tearing the wound on his abdomen further open as his slim amounts of remaining blood slowly poured from it after lying dormant for so long. He grunted with pain as he slowly pulled himself up to the surface. He rolled from the hole he had made and grunted loudly, breathing heavily. Turning, he saw the town they had been heading for in the distance. He tore a piece of his cape off and placed it over his wound, tying it off and rising to his knees. He then pulled his sword from his back, sheath and all, and used it like a walking cane, making his way down into town, holding his wound, trailing sparse large drops of blood behind him. 

He made his way to the capital, looking up at the large building, barely able to stand. Mustering all of his might he pounded upon the doors, making loud pounding noises, three to be exact, and then fell to his knees at the doors. His vision became blurry, his muscles began to fail him, and he brought himself down to the ground slowly with his sword and passed out on the steps. He would not die, but he knew his recovery would not be pleasant once he was found. He then fell into the thoughtless nothingness of unconsciousness, bleeding on the front steps of the largest building.