Dreamwalker: A Short Story

“He has dreamed the same scene every night for almost twenty years. Sometimes he is standing over his wife’s body, other times he kneels beside her as she gasps softly, clinging to each breath. At times they are in a cave, a house, or the depths of some enemy’s dungeon. The runes glow red, silver, green, or not at all. Sometimes there is a knife in his hand. The details change and shift, all but the scent, and when he finally gets it right he’ll remember what truly happened and where he went wrong.”

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