It had been nearly a year since Floki had started hearing the voice. A soft and sweet, feminine voice that spoke of many things when the man rested his eyes. Her voice was gentle, but her words were muffled and unclear. What was it trying to tell him? No magic the young mage had ever read about had ever described lucid dreams with a recurring entity. Maybe Floki had truly lost his mind since he began secluding himself with his work. He couldn’t even remember the last time he went out with his friends since moving the city from his small, childhood village. Sliding across a large bookcase on a tall ladder, the shopkeeper collected a few trinkets and small books before descending again to the ground. With good fortune business was slow that morning, so as Floki slumped against his desk with a large coffee, he yawned and rested his head against his hand. The voice sounded in his mind, though he had only just closed his eyes. Louder, clearer, the woman spoke of love and beauty. Even in sleep, Floki tried to focus on her words, though her thoughts seemed to be unorganized as if she was reading a script or lyrics to a song. Her laughter rang in his ears, fading together will the sharp ring of a bell. Floki’s head shot up as the door swung closed. A little blonde stoof in the doorway with the bright sun shining behind her thin frame, looking towards the disheveled and tired man still slouched over the large antique desk. When she spoke, his jaw slacked, for he already knew the woman’s voice so well. ❝ It’s you... ❞