The inn had long gone quiet, save for the faint crackle of fire in the hearth and the soft creaking of timber adjusting to the chill of night. Nova lay still on the modest bed, one arm thrown behind his head as he slept. His body was limp, and for a very long time his mind was completely at ease, which was unusual for him, since due to his new abilities, some tend to bother him, more than he would admit.
However, while he was sleeping, his once limp body began suddenly feeling heavy and he stirred in his sleep as his brows furrowed, as the world around him seemed to fade a bit.
At first, there was only a fog—dense, quiet, and pulsing with an almost living weight. Then, light. A single torch flared to life in front of him, revealing a narrow stone corridor. Walls breathed. Shadows whispered.
He walked.
Then came the mirror in the middle of what looked like an altar, one that he had seen before, and he was surrounded by many shadows.
