We, that is the combined form of Lenore and I, kept our ritual and dance going throughout the night, only stopping once the first rays of the sun drove the surrounding darkness away. Not that the sun truly weakened us, but there was power in symbols and we needed to stop anyway, so why not use that moment of dawn to do so.

With our dance, the avatar-state we had been united in also came to an end and I stumbled a little, suddenly feeling lonely after hours of constant, intimate contact with a good friend. I barely remembered to finish the recording from the recording-orbs before stumbling off, grabbing Sigmir in the process. Lenore was similarly afflicted, she hadn’t even returned to her Hallow, she had placed herself on my shoulder, something unusual for her, but I think both of us had a need to reaffirm our own individuality and the close contact in the Hallow was not suited for that.

Part of me wanted to leave the game entirely at least for a few hours or maybe even days, but that would have meant rejecting the character I had created over the last few months, something I was not prepared to do. In a weird way, parts of what had begun as a role, a character, I played ingame, were now near and dear to my real personality. I was reminded of the old adage about the masks one was wearing becoming part of them. In a way, Morgana had become part of me, or rather, Morgana was what I would be in a world like Mundus. There was a mental separation between my real life-behaviour and the character, yes, but I was not sure how much of that separation was because of the different worlds both were ‘living’ in. Part of me was curious, if I would become Morgana, if the real world were like the game. Not that such an idea was realistic in any way, but it was a curious idea, how much someone's personality was shaped by their surroundings. It wasn’t something that could be measured, but it was an interesting question.

But, before I was willing to entertain such ideas further, even before looking at the spoils of the night or checking what Lenore and I had achieved, I needed to get my bearings and the best place for that, was in Sigmir’s arms. As I pulled her back to camp, Lenore asked Ylva, through Sigmir, if she would leave her Hallow, to spent some time with her. Apparently, Lenore had the exactly same idea, to affirm her personal identity by the connection to her dear friend, Ylva.

Ylva immediately joined us outside and when we reached camp, I pushed a bemused Sigmir onto her bedroll, cuddling up on her chest, enjoying the fact that I was small and light enough that I could do so easily. I vaguely noticed Ylva rolling around Lenore, creating a warm and fuzzy cocoon for her feathery friend before I fell asleep.

My dreams, were rather interesting and varied. For once, I vividly remembered them, my favourite parts were those in which parts of my previous connection to Lenore asserted themselves, giving me images and visions of flying, not just of being above the land and looking down, but feeling the wind beneath my wings, as I soared through the sky, riding the wind. It felt glorious and I knew that it was only a question of time before I would be able to do so myself.

Other parts were less pleasant, likely hailing from a guilty consciousness, thanks to the massacre we had caused. Or maybe, it was part of dealing with things the part that was I had purposefully ignored while merged with Lenore, the parts of the magic that had caused the dying villagers to rise again, hungering for the vitality of the living. Now, I was dreaming of shambling figures, roaming through a dark, cloudy emptiness, searching for something to sate their hunger. What made the dreams truly disturbing was that it wasn’t villagers I was dreaming of, the figures had familiar faces, not only were my party-members haunting my dreams, as disfigured revenants, even people I had known in the real world joined in. Seeing Rai and Adra shamble around, their eyes dead and empty, their bodies broken, that was disturbing. Seeing former teammates from my clan, people I had met at the martial arts-school, half-remembered faces I knew from school, all reduced to shambling husks, was unpleasant. But neither of those experiences came close to the sheer terror I felt when I saw my parents, their bodies mauled, with black blood slowly seeping from their wounds.

It was in those dreams that I felt myself reach out, for something, for someone to drive those shapes away and my plea for help was answered. In the misty emptiness of my dreams, a familiar form took shape. A broad, sturdy back, wide, muscular shoulders, covered in familiar armour with a savage weapon in hand. Somehow, I knew that now that she was with me, I would be fine.

Maybe, it was that knowledge that altered the dream, for the cloudy emptiness, previously so bleak and dark changed. What before felt depressing suddenly reminded me of the comfort I had felt at night, the figure that, before, was clad in armour and armed with her Lok’nar was now dressed in a much less as she turned to face me.

I woke up, what felt like much, much later, strangely pensive. I was not one to believe in some sort of prophetic dreams and the reason for my nightmares was rather obvious, but still. Dreams had a meaning behind them, if only, in this case, the meaning that a subconscious part of me was strongly against using necromancy, for that was what Lenore’s newest skills were. I would have to think about that particular subject.

“Ah, you are awake?” Sigmir asked, sounding bemused.

My only response was a mumbled sound of contentment as I tried to bury a little deeper into her embrace,

“You know, at first, I thought you had a nightmare and tried to wake you, but you didn’t wake.” Sigmir stopped herself and I could hear the grin in her voice when she continued. “That was when your moans changed from discomfort to something else, something I’ve heard a few times already. Tell me, what did you dream of?”

I blushed a little, knowing that my body had reacted to my dreams and making a semi-educated guess that her nearness had been the reason she had appeared in my dream. Or, it might be that my mind saw her, rightfully, as my protector, the one I could rely on, when the going got tough. I had no doubt that she would stand with me and protect me, no matter how ‘evil’ I ever got. It was comforting.

Still not leaving the warm cocoon of Sigmir’s embrace, I looked at the log from the previous night. It was almost disappointing, the experience gained from wiping out a village was merely a pittance, not even enough to boost me up a single level. I had gained points in my three rune-magic skills, undoubtedly for the new ritual that had combined all my magic into something rather fearsome and I had improved one of my traits and one of my titles. Or rather, increased, if it was an improvement would have to be seen.

Title strengthened Your title, Magician of Annihilation, gained significance For coming up with a new magical way of committing massacre, you gained the title Magician of Annihilation. Increases the EXP gained when using magic to annihilate large groups of opponents.

Friend or foe, if they learn of your deeds and skills, will seek ways to handle your ability to commit magical mayhem. Trait strengthened Your trait, Magician of Massacre, was strengthened. Those who can use magic to kill large amounts of enemies are both revered and feared, depending which side they are on. When using magic to strike at large groups your skill-gains and the damage dealt are increased.

When combining your magic with others, for the purpose of massacring your enemies, you confer the advantages of the trait, Magician of Massacre, to all those involved in casting the magic.

The first one, that didn’t sound ominous at all. At the same time, it was merely common sense, if someone knew that an enemy of theirs had the ability to wipe out armies, they wouldn’t send an army against them. I was not at the level to destroy armies, not yet at least, but I had a feeling that Lenore and I would get there. So, anyone knowing about that would seek a way to deal with me, us, before we became an issue for them. Suddenly, I was not so sure about making the advertisement I had planned to make, had even taken footage for.

It was the old question, showing what I was capable of doing would make others fear me. Would that fear mean they wouldn’t go against me, maybe even giving me consideration out of respect for the powers I commanded or would they shun me, afraid of my powers.