The darkness was just beginning to fray at the edges when Elric's eyes snapped open. For a heart-stopping second, he couldn't seem to draw a full breath, as though the room had been drained of oxygen.
He sat bolt upright, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there.
Then, the reality of the present began to filter back in.
The air hung warm and heavy with night-blooming jasmine and damp earth. This wasn't the hollow, graveyard silence of his dream.
Elric let out a long, shuddering breath and slumped back against the pillows. He stared up at the bed's canopy, his mind reeling. The visions he had just experienced were so vivid they felt less like dreams and more like memories that had been forcibly ripped from his soul. They felt real. He could still taste the bitter tea from that silent table, he could still feel the agonizing sting of the rejection when she chose the couch over his bed.
