I knew right away I was dreaming because I’d had the dream before. Actually, it was more accurate to call it a full-blown nightmare.

I found myself on the stone cold floor of an all-too familiar library coughing on the smoke and ash in the air. For the umpteenth time, I pushed myself up, turning to see the slumped form of a girl, a mage, against the wall. Blood trickled from her open mouth, her hand still grasping the arrow lodged in her abdomen. Her robe was stained dark, and with foolish hope I crawled to her and fumbled for her neck to feel for a pulse. There was none. I closed the girl’s eyes, giving her the appearance of a blissful slumber.

From where I was, I could see aisles upon aisles of books on wooden shelves, all ablaze. Tapestries with proud eagles on them were engulfed in flames. I could hear the sound of steel clashing over the crackling of the fire all around me. Soldiers screamed as blades and arrows pierced flesh. I ran for the door. I threw my shoulder into it, and the door burst open. I stumbled out into the courtyard beyond.

I saw a great castle crumbling as flaming boulders crashed into once beautiful spires, flames spreading everywhere. Knights and mages ran to and fro, some fighting the fires while others fought the invaders. A group of knights dressed in silver armor that caught the dancing glow of the flames, rushed forward to meet another group of black-armored knights. They clashed and swords whirled and spun in the air. The courtyard I emerged into was a scene of violence and madness. Then it became worse.

A creature out of a child’s darkest nightmare screeched from the sky. A dragon, covered in ebony armor plates soared above me, and I could barely make out his rider against the night sky. Following him was a squadron of dragon riders flying in a tight, disciplined formation. They angled toward the group of silver-garbed soldiers fighting a fire in a corner of the courtyard. A few of the riders broke off and the small group swooped down over the soldiers. They never saw the dragons coming. I could hear them screaming, never having time to reach for their weapons. The dragons tore into them with the ferocity of hungry wolves. I could hear wet, ripping sounds and I almost retched

Hiding amongst a pile of crates with the hopes of not being spotted by the dragon riders overhead, I could hear more innocent lives being ended by the blades of the Ishmarians. I couldn’t help any of those mages without a staff. I peeked out from behind the crates to see if I could find anything I could use to defend myself.

My old instructor, Professor Farnus, was limping along in the background while trying to guide a group of children clothed in mage pupils’ robes to safety. The squadron leader steered his mount in their direction; I reached out my left arm and screamed, but no sound emerged from my mouth. I could only watch in silent agony as the dragon barreled toward my old master.

Professor Farnus was no spring chicken, but all of his years of experience made up for it. He saw the dragon rider coming a mile away. Leveling his staff skyward, Farnus willed energy out of his body and along the staff, lightning sweeping up and over the length of the oak. By the time the bolt of bright blue light had reached the end of his staff, it was gleaming with power; it surged into the air, but the dragon rider corkscrewed out of the way, dodging it by a hair. The dragon nose-dived towards Farnus at breakneck speed.

In anticipation, Farnus raised his gnarled staff high, and a shimmering field swept over him and the children. Like a transparent sphere of glass, it flickered into being, surrounding him and the children. The children held tight to Farnus, cowering as the dragon swooped down at its rider’s command. The old wizard bared his teeth in exertion, as if daring the rider to come after him. The dragon opened its jaws and answered the challenge with its flaming breath.

I could not turn away. No matter how much I wanted to, no matter how much it hurt, I had to relive this moment in my mind whether I was awake or asleep. Farnus’ shield faded, unable to hold the barrage of hellish power assaulting it, until it eventually failed, and Farnus and his staff fell to the ground. He cried out to the children to flee. They scattered, running as a group. The rider saw them and steered the dragon in their direction. Again I cried out, in vain. The dragon roared and blew fire once more.

Was it quick? Was it merciful? I didn’t know. Those children didn’t stand a chance. They didn’t even have time to cry out before the wave of fire washed over them and snuffed them out like candles in the wind. Farnus screamed out in fury and loosed a poorly conjured lightning bolt at the rider out of sheer desperation; it clipped the saddle keeping the rider attached to the dragon, and he fell to the ground, rolling into a combat stance. Fueled by what had to be raw fury my mentor scrambled to his feet with more speed than I’d ever seen him manage.

The rider pulled an axe and rapier from his belt, then rushed at my mentor. Farnus swept his staff across the ground and pulled a barrage of stones from the earth. The barrage went needling toward the rider, but her sidestepped the stones. I could see Farnus struggling to call upon every reserve left in him as he shot another bolt of lightning straight at the rider, the hissing blue lightning searing the air as it shot forward.

The bolt impacted the rider in the chest, but only managed to slow him down. Farnus poured more intensity into his spell, sustaining it into a continuous blast, but the rider kept advancing. My teacher’s eyes were practically bulging out of his skull, his teeth set in a defiant snarl, blood spilling from his mouth as he threw everything he had into his attack. He was killing himself with the amount of effort he was exerting, likely burning his own life force like kindling to continue his attack.

It didn’t matter. At last, the rider got close enough to knock the staff from Farnus’ hands. With one strike, the rider buried his rapier up to its hilt in Farnus’ chest. The old man retched as the blade pierced out his back. The rider yanked it free and Farnus hit the ground, coughing profusely. He lifted his head just enough to spit blood on the rider’s boot. In response, the rider lifted his axe and brought it down on Farnus, ending him with the cold precision of a practiced killer.

To feel so powerless was the true horror of this nightmare. To see such barbarism unfold when I could do nothing to stop it was what made this stay with me after so many years. The rider pulled his bloodstained axe out of Farnus’ corpse and went off to direct some of his fellows to look for more helpless victims to butcher.

Crawling out from behind the crates, I ran to my fallen mentor’s side. He lay on the ground, his robe quickly turning dark from soaking up his blood. His eyes were still open, staring lifelessly into oblivion. I cradled his head in my lap as I closed them. Grief caused me to forget that I was in the middle of a war, drowning out the sounds of battle all around me.

Then, I spotted Farnus’ staff lying nearby.

My mind still swimming, I reached over and picked up Farnus’ fallen staff. The oak was finely sanded as per Farnus’ inclination, smooth and without a single errant splinter. I pulled the staff close and I could feel tears, hot and messy, sliding down my face to meet at my chin. I screamed my anguish to the sky above. Suddenly, I heard the clank of armo, behind me.

The rider who had just killed Farnus and the children had returned, flanked by two more Ishmarian knights. Their armor was far more ornate than the soldiers I’d seen earlier, but with my vision distorted by tears and the heat haze I could barely tell the difference. The knights unsheathed weapons and began stalking towards me, the one in front already rearing his arm back to throw a hand axe at me.

A black-haired girl in a cloth jerkin knocked me to the ground, and the hand axe sailed past me harmlessly. Straddling me, she reared back and aimed a crossbow ahead of her. Without hesitation, she loosed the bolt and it lodged itself in the tiny opening of the visor of one of the knights, flooring him. He collapsed in slow motion, a gurgling sound echoing from his helmet. The girl whipped around, her ponytail swinging, and in that one smooth motion drew the shortsword on her hip, dropping the crossbow as she did so. With her left hand, she grabbed my collar and lifted me up. I was still in a daze as I felt my feet plant themselves on the ground, and as the girl yanked my face to look at her, I recognized one of the only friends I’d ever had.

“Kuro! Thank the gods you’re alright! We’ve got to go, now! Stop staring off into space!“

I turned, and the lead knight burst into a full-on rush towards us. He lifted his axe and with an eerie cry ran toward the two of us. I tried to back away but I was rooted to the spot. The knight rushed forward, and raised his bloodstained axe high…