For the first time in years, Ghent revisited the dream from his childhood. At first, everything was too dark to see what was happening. He felt himself being picked up and passed to someone else, their arms strong and secure. He heard a voice -- possibly two people, followed by footsteps. Somewhere up ahead, Ghent saw a room illuminated by light. The closer they got to the light, the more he could see. It came as no surprise when he realized Drust was the one carrying him. Time did little to change the Knight, but his face was noticeably different without the Curse. In Drust's opposite arm, Ghent managed to make out Elayra's petite form. She had to have been two at most, which meant Ghent was three. His scattered memories from fourteen years ago were back, but he retained his thoughts and memories from the present. When Drust brought them into a room at the end of the foyer, Ghent suspected they were in the castle he had heard about. He wasn't sure, though. Everything was happening too fast, and his three-year-old self hadn't been too concerned about surveying his surroundings. His point of view became fuzzy as the setting changed, the stone walls replaced by overgrown foliage and massive trees. The road ahead crisscrossed like a spider’s web, but Drust didn't take any of the paths. He seemed to know precisely where he was going without them. On they went, covering ground at remarkable speed. Ghent looked across Drust's chest to make sure Elayra was with them, and she was...but something was different. In this version of the dream, she was armed with a knife. [i]A knife![/i] Ghent gawked. He began to stammer something to her, but every step from Drust jostled him so much, he couldn’t speak. Things got even weirder when Ghent realized Margen was perched on Drust’s shoulder like a parrot. The tichari waved a tiny paw at him, and a dumbfounded Ghent waved back. He definitely didn’t remember that before. The farther they went, the more their surroundings changed. Tendrils of smoke replaced the trees, and a tall iron fence blocked their path. A portal materialized where the gate should have been, colors of black and red swirling like an angry typhoon. Ghent gasped at the sight. He heard Drust's ragged breaths as they come to an abrupt stop. Snaps and snarls of faceless monsters sounded behind them, their forms emerging from the shadows. Before Ghent got a good look at what had ambushed them, he was put on the ground along with Elayra. “GO!” Someone yelled at them. The voice sounded like Drust, but Ghent didn't know for certain. He felt someone push him toward the portal, but he used the momentum to run toward Elayra instead. If he altered the events of the past, maybe he could fix the present. “Elayra!” Ghent couldn't believe how young he sounded. He lunged for her hand, forgetting about the knife until it was too late. He shouted as the blade slid across his palm, but it didn’t hurt. Ignoring the blood trickling down his fingertips, he turned to push Elayra through the portal. Instead, somebody pushed [i]him.[/i] [i][b]Wake up, boy.[/b][/i] The force of the shove was enough for Ghent to fall, his body disappearing from Wonderland. [hr] Ghent’s eyes snapped open. He rolled onto his back with a gasp, startled by the sight of Drust. “I’m awake!” To prove his point, he started to sit up and instantly regretted it. His body felt stiff and his head hurt, not to mention his allergies made life more miserable than usual. He leaned forward with a groan, resting his arms and forehead against his knees. He remained in the slumped position for half a minute, his posture resembling a zombie with a hangover. Eyes bleary and half-lidded, Ghent lifted his head to look at Drust. “Two-year-old's shouldn’t have knives," he informed the man, his voice thick from sleep. He grimaced as he stood, his body aching relentlessly. On Earth, he took many things for granted. Sleeping on a mattress was one of them. “Keep the fire going, and make sure nothing gets in,” he mumbled through a yawn, counting each task on his fingers. Up until that moment, he thought school was the worst thing to wake up for. Guard duty was significantly worse. "Anything else?”