I knew it wasn't a normal dream at once. Normally my dreams are distant without much detail, but this one was vivid. It felt like I was actually in it, experiencing first hand what would typically be a third person feeling. I felt like I could actually see my sister sobbing into her hands in a sterile hospital waiting room.

She was sitting in the middle of a baren row of an otherwise busy emergency waiting room. The nurses at the counter on the side were whispering fiercely to each other and attending to the line that was growing to be rather large.

My sister sat there for what seemed to be an hour. A nurse walked over to my sister and whispered something inaudible while shaking her head. This made her sobbing worse and the nurse gently grabbed her arm and led her deeper into the hospital. She was directed to an elevator and herded inside still crying deeply. It made my heart lurch as she was pointed to a glass window. Inside was a crimson stained sheet on a silver table. There was a human shaped object between the metal table and the sheet.

It became clear just who the person covered by the sheet was. The silence in the room was only broken by the sobs of mourning my sister gave. Then the nurse spoke.

"There was nothing we could do. He was dead when the ambulance arrived. The woman who was with him was in too histeric of a state to get a full statement of events but it seems to be a clearcut case of o robbery gone wrong." She was explaining but I was clear the nurse knew she wasn't listening to her. Or even aware that she was speaking.

She stared at my body with tears silently streaming from her eyes. She was obviously oblivious to anything that was the fact that her brother was lying dead on a table. Her worries were only that her little brother, a kid she had raised for half their lives, would never speak to her, never confide in her, never be annoyed by her ever again.

She stood like that, staring, for a while. At some point her tears stopped flowing and here stare became blank. The nurse had led her to the seat on the other side of the hallway. She stared blankly and the nurse decided it was time to discuss burial plans. She nodded through and seemed to obsorb very little of the information.

The dream shifted. My sister in a church, sitting in the front pew. There was a priest drowning on about god and heaven and immortal souls. I recognized a few people in the crowd. Distant family, people I knew from school but never talked to. My sister was being comforted by an old lady. My grandma, she allowed me to live with my sister after our parents death and checked in from time to time.

After the priest finished, everyone walked over to console my sister, people who never talked to me talking about what a great person I was and how they would miss my company. It's weird how so many people suddenly know you after you die.

The dream shifted again to the burial service. I was lowered into the ground and my sister, who had been surprisingly stoic throughout the whole service, suddenly burst into tears. As if the whole thing had been a horrible dream and my burial was her awakening to find that the dream had in fact been reality.

My grandma patted her back and hugged her head into her shoulder. She whispered to her while holding back tears of her own. It lasted a while longer until I awoke in the straw bed of the inn.

I walked over to the mirror to wash my face. In the mirror I saw, not the blonde haired noble I had become, but the weak coward I was in my past life. A single tear streamed down my face. The water felt cool and woke me up completely. I looked up and Alfred Von Earlheight returned. The memory of my dream had already started to fade.