I am dreaming of nice houses. Not a mansion like that of Dunnett, but a bright two-storey house that's almost like the Parcell estate, only smaller. There is vegetation all around, horses and other domesticated pets. There is also a small lake that gleams brightly in the midday sun. A wooden fence surrounds the property, which is made sturdy by my magic.
There is a loud thud and I realize that it is from my reality. I don't want to wake up. All I want is to stay in this beautiful place. It is warm and welcoming — there is a constant stream of visitors, laughter, and love. Most importantly, there is peace, the kind that reminds me of my previous world.
Then there are the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching my bed. I groan. Can't they even permit me to dream?
