Looking out over the wild and windy waters of the anxious sea, the gray lighthouse stood as a beacon of hope amidst the never-ending chaos. Perched atop a craggy black cliff, devoid of all vegetation except the slimy green moss which grew between the cracks and crevices, the great stone tower lorded over the waves, holding the storm at bay.
As Xander looked up at the conical gray tower, it filled him with a sense of awe. The lighthouse seemed even taller from up close. Surrounded by a ragged and desolate coastline, it wasn't easy to reach. But the Dreamwalker had made the perilous journey all alone and conquered the barren rock with his unyielding steps.
The last time Xander had entered a Death Dream, it had brought him to an enchanted forest. And that was more than a year ago. Dealing with nightmares had kept him busy all this while, and he had almost forgotten what it was like to trudge across a disturbed Dreamscape.
