Skerren hadn't been expecting anything special to happen the next day. He sat there in the courtyard, the day after his birthday, polishing his swords. The rest of the party had gone by without a hitch, and when everyone left Skerren promptly went to sleep just to avoid thinking about the past. It seemed his mind had other plans because as soon as his eye closed, he was back in the nightmare. It wasn't uncommon for Skerren to dream about the night he became an orphan and only child but in the past few years those dreams were far and few between. Still Skerren grimaced as he played the scenes of the nightmare through his head. First it was a happy dream, his father and mother sitting by the fireplace while his sister played with a toy nearby. Skerren knew what happened next couldn't be stopped but at the same time he still tried. In the dream he had heard someone, the Rustov left-behinds, knock at the front door and Skerren had screamed for his father not to answer but the result was the same as it had been seven years ago. His father rose from the chair and opened the door to see a grinning, decayed face stare back at him.
The rest of the dream happened quickly and sometimes would loop in a never-ending nightmare until morning came, but Skerren didn't want to think about what had happened next anymore. He wanted to remember only the good times, even if it was over.
Skerren was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice someone approach from behind until he heard the squire's voice," Sir! King Hovarth requests that you come to the main hall immediately! It's a matter of grave importance!'
"Wait, did he say what the matter was?" Skerren turned to see a small child no more than 11 years old behind him in a squire's attire and a pale face full of freckles.
"No, Sir! Just that it was very important and there was someone waiting for you!"
Skerren rose to his feet quickly to ask the squire more but the small boy was already running down the hall to deliver another message. He had no idea who could be asking for him to cause such a big deal but if Skerren could guess, it was probably a School of Thought related assignment.
As Skerren shouldered his swords and left the courtyard in a half run, he ran the possibilities through his mind. "It could be a supervillain….or maybe its Trea and Lorem's revenge for ruining her jacket? No, my King wouldn't involve himself in that. So it's probably a supervillain rampage again."
He ran past the library, the assembly room, and five court mages before he reached the door way to the main hall. The first thing he noticed was that it was strangely quiet. Most of the time the hall had some knights and nobles talking about politics but today the hallway was empty except for King Hovarth standing with a court advisor and….what appeared to be a small traveler who wore a hood.
Was this the person Skerren was supposed to see? That didn't make any sense to him because Skerren didn't recognize them, even as he walked closer. Still the hood shadowed their face and the worn clothes they wore covered their form so perhaps he had met them at one point.
"Skerren! Where have you been?" King Hovarth bellowed at the sight of his ward, his huge, armored form turning to face the young knight.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I only just got the message from a squire….Is something happening?"
The King fell silent and shifted slightly, unsure of how to answer but in the end he turned to the traveler and said quietly," Take off your hood, child. He can't see your face."
The traveler reached up with shaking hands to pull down the tattered hood. The first thing Skerren thought was that he was looking in a twisted mirror. He thought it was his own face staring back at him before he comprehended what was happening and even then he couldn't believe it.
His sister stood in front of him, her eyes cold as a northern wind and her cheeks gaunt and pale.
"Hello, brother." A voice ringing with a Rustov accent rang out from her mouth," It's been awhile hasn't it?"