Alys Glasse
It had been some time since Alys had last slept so fitfully - since before the Family had departed, in fact - and this fact was not lost on either her companion or her partner, both of whom did their best to soothe the seer as she woke time and time again throughout the night. She did her best not to disrupt them, but it was difficult when she tossed and turned, flipped and flopped, and woke drenched in sweat, disoriented and uneasy.
The dreams weren't solid; they shifted, ever-changing, never giving her a strong sense of what she was really supposed to be seeing. They came in flashes, some so quick that she wasn't sure she'd dreamed them at all, but that perhaps they were some long-forgotten memory that had chosen the defenseless moments of sleep to resurface. What she did recall the next morning was this: flashes of dormant shrines, all dedicated to Mort and Ludo; all receiving offerings of candy, toys, and games; and all the worshipers leaving empty-handed.
When she finally gave up on sleep in the wee hours of the morning, all she knew for certain was that something was wrong. Her dreams were rarely just dreams; these felt like a warning, though for what, she wasn't yet certain. But if something had happened to Mort and Ludo, if they were suddenly unable or unwilling to respond to those calling for them at shrines...
It was clear that she could no longer sit idly in her home. Something was happening. She just wasn't sure what.
fin
The dreams weren't solid; they shifted, ever-changing, never giving her a strong sense of what she was really supposed to be seeing. They came in flashes, some so quick that she wasn't sure she'd dreamed them at all, but that perhaps they were some long-forgotten memory that had chosen the defenseless moments of sleep to resurface. What she did recall the next morning was this: flashes of dormant shrines, all dedicated to Mort and Ludo; all receiving offerings of candy, toys, and games; and all the worshipers leaving empty-handed.
When she finally gave up on sleep in the wee hours of the morning, all she knew for certain was that something was wrong. Her dreams were rarely just dreams; these felt like a warning, though for what, she wasn't yet certain. But if something had happened to Mort and Ludo, if they were suddenly unable or unwilling to respond to those calling for them at shrines...
It was clear that she could no longer sit idly in her home. Something was happening. She just wasn't sure what.
fin
