Alaric drifted into sleep, the weight of his recent victory and newfound power finally easing him into rest. The darkness cradled him, offering a rare moment of tranquility, yet as he sank deeper, he sensed an unusual stirring within the depths of his subconscious. It was a presence—familiar, yet distant—as though reaching for him from across the abyss of time itself.
In his dream, he found himself standing in a mist-laden field, a pale silver light illuminating the scene. Before him, two figures materialized, their forms gradually becoming clearer: his father and mother, side by side, their expressions solemn and tinged with sorrow.
His father, tall and stern with an aura of authority, regarded him with unwavering eyes. His mother, with her gentle yet fierce gaze, watched him as if assessing his very soul. The sight of them sent a jolt through Alaric's heart, filling him with a mixture of warmth and trepidation.
