Fire seemed to blaze from all sides as Iris huddled under a piece of rubble to escape the chaos all around her. The heat was so intense she felt as though she could hardly breathe, and she felt herself shaking as she clutched her knees to her chest. Pain was lancing down her arm from a cut she'd received from the falling debris, and she could feel tears trailing down her face as she tried to stay as still as possible. Her breathing sounded impossibly loud, and she could feel the world closing in on her. How had it come to this? It was supposed to have been a peace treaty—how could this have happened?

Then, just as she could feel the darkness all around her, she heard a familiar voice.

"Iris? Iris where are you?"

It was her dad, he was there, he was alive! She had to go out to meet him, or he might miss her.

"Dad! I'm over here!" she said, emerging from under the rubble, into the fierce heat all around.

She could see him now, just ahead of her, still with his back towards her. But...something was wrong, he was bent over slightly, almost as though he was in pain. Had he been injured somehow?

"Dad?" she called out to him, and he slowly turned his head, then his entire body around to face her.

She almost screamed. There, in the centre of his chest, was a large gaping hole, the fabric around it thickly matted with blood. And his face...blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth as he smiled ghoulishly at her and his skin had the horrible pallor of death. What was this terrible magic?

"What's wrong Iris?" he asked, as she backed away from him in horror.

His voice was oddly distorted now, like he was talking through a filter. She had to get away from him.

"Don't run! I'm your father…" he said, as Iris began to sprint as fast as she could in the opposite direction, just trying to get away.

But then, as she began to turn a corner, there was an incredible explosion from just above her, and parts of the building began raining down on the street, pieces hitting her arms and legs, and then finally, as she looked up, the last thing she saw was the tower above her splitting in two, and it coming careening down towards her, before she woke up with a scream.

She was shuddering and shaking, and she could feel a cold sweat on her back as she struggled to control her breathing. Someone was wrapping warm arms around her, and stroking her hair, talking quietly to her.

"Calm down now Lady Iris, it was only a nightmare."

It was Jared, and Iris clung fiercely to him as tears continued to roll down her cheeks in an uncontrollable flood. She couldn't even speak, so wracked she was by emotion, only able to sniff and wail in despair. She hadn't felt this way as Insomnia fell, but now, as she could see it burning in her mind's eye, it consumed her. Everything she had was gone. Her home, her city, her father—it was all gone. Her father had used to stroke her hair like this when she was little, and even the memory sent her into still more floods of tears. Why did he have to die?

"Here Lady Iris, wipe your eyes with this," said Jared handing her a handkerchief, which she grasped gratefully, and frantically wiped at her eyes. "Is my presence troubling you? Should I ask Miss Monica to sit with you instead?"

Iris dearly wanted to explain that Jared wasn't troubling her at all, it was just that he reminded her of her father, and in that moment, it was simply too much for her to cope with. But she couldn't, every time she tried to open her mouth to speak, she was simply beset with sobs, so instead she just nodded mutely, collapsing back onto her bed and trying to calm herself down. Jared nodded, and shuffled quietly out of her room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

It seemed like an eternity until Monica appeared at her door, all the while the only thing she could think of was the heat from the explosions in Insomnia, and the slow, sickening realisation as she had been driven away, that her father must be dead.

"Lady Iris?" she asked, from where she stood in the doorway.

"C-Come in," said Iris, now just about able to speak, though her voice was still shaky, and her cheeks were still wet with tears.

"Another nightmare?" asked Monica, as she sat beside Iris on the bed, gently pulling the covers back over her, as her mother might have done, a long time ago.

Iris just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"It must have been very frightening," said Monica, moving herself to the chair beside Iris's bed, and settling herself there. "I find that warm milk always helps me get back to sleep after having a nightmare."

With these words, Monica produced a glass of what appeared to be milk. Iris hadn't noticed her holding it before. She took a sip. Sure enough, it was warm and soothed her aching throat as she swallowed. She felt a bit calmer now.

"Do you have a lot of nightmares Monica?" asked Iris, placing the glass on the table beside her, and settling back down onto the bed.

"I used to, back when I started in the Crownsguard," said Monica with a quiet sigh.

"Is it...does it ever go away?" asked Iris, her voice trembling slightly.

"Well, sometimes you see, or experience things which will always haunt you afterwards," said Monica, her voice quiet. "Be it through nightmares, or suddenly becoming scared of certain things when you weren't before, startling at certain sensations—it could be anything. But some things just don't leave you. Luckily most people don't have to witness such things, but my job is to keep the royal family safe, and sometimes that means seeing things I'd rather not see, or doing things I'd rather not do. I don't regret my choices, by any means, but I want you to know that you're not alone. There are others who struggle as you do, so you needn't feel scared or ashamed. It's just a part of life. So, even if your nightmares don't go away, we're here for you, alright?"

Iris could feel herself blinking back tears once more, though they weren't quite the tears of utter despair she'd felt earlier.

"Thanks, Monica," she said, and her voice was steady now. "Could you...tell me about what you do in the Crownsguard? So I can get back to sleep."

Monica gave a quiet laugh.

"Yes, I suppose I could! Let's see...around five years ago…"

Monica had a very slow, soothing voice, Iris thought, as she listened to Monica regale her of a mission she had when she first joined the Crownsguard, and slowly, steadily felt her eyes grow heavier, and her concentration slip away. But this time, there was no fire or destruction waiting for her, only the dark, and the quiet.