“Ugh,” Academ Levedi’ voice croaked. His entire body ached like it had been sliced all over.

The past few… minutes, hours, days, weeks… had been filled with intricate visions: some of him as a child, others of him living another man’s life, and a few of him being saved. All of them with a strange pain. Honestly, they could have all been dreams or all been reality; the Academ wasn’t sure of anything at this point.

His eyelids were heavy as they cracked open just a little. He was in a makeshift bed on the ground, all movement muffled by a heavy blanket. The sound of a small, smoldering hearth lit up his ears, and a nearby flame warmed only half his face. His throat tightened, begging for water, as he felt damp sweat in his clothing and blanket sticking to his skin. Every breath he took was strained and mixed in with those lingering, bloody coughs. Each part of his body ached as if he had run many marathons. Finally forcing his eyes completely open and looking down, it was obvious why.

In the orange light of the fire, a darkened boy sat on his chest. A darkened boy that held a glimmering knife. A glimmering knife that was pointed at the Academ’s exposed throat.

The boy looked familiar. He had been in the visions, and in them he had said his name…

It was Varus.