Tycondrius was no stranger to nightmares.
In the night, he'd relive a thousand failures, experience horrors impossible for a wakeful mind to comprehend, and suffer underneath the crushing weight of his collective doubt.
He had learned to sleep, despite them.
It *was* uncommon to suffer a nightmare while awake... but the level of anxiety he was experiencing, he had grown more-or-less accustomed to.
Well over a hundred personally-felt deaths burdened Tycon's soul.
However, the pain of losing each and every one of his stalwart companions remained.
Granted, the ache had dulled over however-many decades.
Tycon identified it as... guilt.
It was guilt for remaining alive and hale while others far-more-deserving were... not so.
