The scream came again, tearing through the silence of the night like a blade through flesh.
I was already awake. I had been listening, as I always listened, for the sound that would tell me he needed me. The nightmares had faded recently, the visions coming less often, less vividly. I had hoped they might stop altogether, that the echoes of the original timeline might finally release their grip on his mind.
But they had not stopped. They had only been waiting.
I was at his side before the echo of the scream faded, my arms wrapping around him, pulling him against me. His body was rigid, trembling, his skin slick with sweat despite the cold. His eyes were open, but they saw nothing, only the battlefield that haunted his dreams, only the silver-haired saint, only the blade that had found another heart in another life.
"Kaelen," my voice was soft, steady, a lifeline thrown into the storm of his terror. "Kaelen, wake up. You're in Frosthold. You're safe. I'm here."
