Black. Blacker. Blackest.

Sevran is lost in a sea of darkness, but it is peaceful. He felt safe there. Blackness surrounded him, cushioned him. A dreamless sleep, but not for long.

In the distance, a flicker of light. The formless entity that was Sevran went towards it. The light grew. Expanded. Took on different shapes and colors until a world developed. Shade and light, but in place of black and white, it’s gold and blue. They fight, at first formless shapes, pushing tangling with each other. And then they are dragons, with teeth and claws, ripping and tearing, but neither seems to win. With each bite, each swipe of claws, the color bleeds from one to another, blue on gold, gold on blue, until they are indiscriminate from each other.

A tangled form, they fall from unfathomable heights, and Sevran is falling too, lost between the gold-blue dragons. And with a final clash, they turn to green. A sea of green, twisting and folding upon itself until it’s no longer a sea but a field.

Sevran walks among the grass, trailing his hand atop the stalks. Everywhere is green, but in the distance a tree. The tree seems to be his destination, but he moves like a ghost. There is a breeze, but it doesn’t touch him. There is sunlight, but it doesn’t warm his skin. And no matter how far he walks, the tree remains the same distance. Ever present but out of reach. In frustration, he tears at the grass only to find that it vanishes in his hands, drifting away on a breeze he can’t feel.

A storm on the horizon, closing in fast. He’s caught in the eye of the storm, a circle of golden light in the field of green, circled by a growing darkness. But Sevran is not afraid. He welcomes the darkness. The green field is gone down. He’s caught in a shaft of light only large enough to lift his arms. Outside of this is shadow. But in the shadow there are forms.

Two of them, one large and one small. He squints, and can make out the figure of a wolf. The smaller form becomes a bird, delicate and light. But it’s trapped beneath the paws of the wolf.

And as Sevran watches, the wolf is slowly tearing feathers from the wings of the bird. Fear claws at Sevran’s throat, and he moves to get the bird. But the wall of light is a trap, and he can’t break free. He tries to scream, but he has no voice. He pounds on the invisible wall in front of him, but it does not give way. He is a spectator, helpless and trapped as the bird is lost into the shadows.

And then the light releases Sevran, and he is free to move. The wolf is gone, and when Sevran finds the bird, it’s not a bird anymore but a wildcat. Tawney fur and yellow eyes. It snarls, and attacks, leaving long savage marks across his chest. And now he’s fighting with the wildcat, meeting snarl with snarl and teeth with teeth. He is ripped to shreds, but he won’t let go.

The last thing Sevran sees before he wakes up is the teeth of the cat going for his throat.

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