Alaric awoke from the depths of his dreamscape, the remnants of his unconscious journey clinging to him like a shroud. It had felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three days had passed in the real world. As he opened his eyes, the familiar sight of the mansion greeted him, but it seemed almost foreign after his prolonged absence. His family stood around him, their faces a mix of relief and concern.
He stretched, feeling the weight of the past six hundred days lift from his shoulders. The mastery of his real mother's bloodline had left him feeling both powerful and unfamiliar. The room was filled with an unsettling aura, a dark and menacing energy that radiated from him as he stood. Morgana's eyes narrowed, her sharp gaze assessing the transformation in her grandson.
"Alaric, you're awake," Morgana said, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and caution. "How do you feel?"
