The first thing that really became clear was the sound of bubbling water. It was so clear because there was nothing else to hear. Then came the pressure of a footstep. Soon, Taylor realized where she was - on the stairs leading down from the Blackwell classrooms. She was in the courtyard, the Blackwell founder fountain gurgling merrily right in front of her. That was all normal, but what wasn't normal was that it was late in the afternoon, and she was entirely alone.

Taylor had never been very good with silence. It had been a real trap for her when her anxiety first got really bad, because she'd try to get away from noise, only to panic herself at being alone. And that was really what silence meant, wasn't it? That you were alone?

Taylor continued down the steps, hoping to catch sight of someone that she just couldn't see just yet. Her footsteps were clearly audible, reverberating as if she were in an enclosed space. It was unnerving, but so was every other aspect of this place. Well, it was always possible that the courtyard might be empty a few hours after school, wasn't it? Certainly she'd see people passing by, walking their dogs and driving down the road to get home, get to the supermarket, get to a bar, something.

But there was no one. No one and nothing. The steps of Blackwell descended onto nothing but dirt. There were no cars, no homes, no buildings of any kind on the hill atop which Blackwell sat. And further, stretching out in the valley of Arcadia Bay, the forest that surrounded and cut through Arcadia Bay was sick. The trees were twisted, black and leafless. The forest was a forest no more, only a valley of corpses. Taylor truly was alone.

Taylor glanced around at the trees in the courtyard, wondering if they were dead too, and she had just missed it. But they weren't. They were fine, their branches blowing in a silent breeze.

Taylor turned back towards the school, surprised to find that she was not alone anymore. A raven sat on the bronze head of Jeremiah Blackwell, watching Taylor intently. Maybe she should be frightened. But really, she was just glad to have another living thing nearby.

As she approached the fountain, Taylor gave the bird a little wave. "Hello friend," she said, "you wouldn't happen to know what this dream means, do you?"

"It is not a dream, but that which is to come."

The voice appeared as if someone were standing right beside Taylor, whispering into her ear. She recoiled and spun around, but found no one there.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Taylor knew it was stupid to even ask. Dreams don't have to play by the rules. There doesn't have to be anyone there to hear them talk. Although, that wasn't always so different from being awake.

"None but the two of us." Despite its proximity, the voice was quiet, soft, and androgynous. And though it should, it did not frighten her.

Of course, Taylor reached the inevitable conclusion before long. She turned back to the raven, meeting its eyes as well as she could. Of course it was the raven. It had to be the raven.

"Are you the one talking to me?" Taylor asked.

The raven just continued to stare. "Of course," said the voice.

Taylor didn't react immediately, but after a few seconds, she began to giggle. "Totally. Yeah, of course. Because my life just can't get any weirder."

"It can and it will," replied the Raven.

That shut Taylor up pretty quick. Of course, there she had gone and jinxed it.

"Who are you?" Taylor asked.

"A prisoner."
It looked like nothing was about to start sounding comforting. Taylor may as well buckle in for whatever ride this dream was taking her on.

"What do you mean, a prisoner? In what prison?"

The Raven answered, "A prison of time and tide, a prison of darkness and light. You call it Arcadia, though it is no such thing any longer. It was poisoned long ago."

Although every word the Raven said made no sense, Taylor felt she had a safe bet on one conclusion: "Arcadia . . . Bay? The town? How is it a prison? For who?"

"It is a prison for only one, though it holds many more," they said. "This is a place where all stands still, where time dances with the sea. This is a place where gods rest forever, and mortals come to die."

That almost made sense. Well, not really, not at all, but the individual pieces made sense, so long as Taylor abandoned all grip on reality. A prison for one person that holds many? Just an unnecessarily large prison. A place where all is still? A dead place, or at least not a living one. And time . . . time was always compared to a river. Time that was like the ocean, however . . . would move back and forth.

Taylor swallowed, hoping she was on the right track. She had gotten pretty good with metaphor from reading Revelations, she was pretty convinced. "Okay, so, first question. Whose prison is this? Who was it built for?"

And the Raven said, "His rebirth bore you from darkness, as it bore the shades that now consume the people of Arcadia Bay. Like a stone cast into the ocean, the awakening of his mind awoke those closest to him first, but soon, others."

All right, all right. This was making sense. "So whoever was - is imprisoned here, he was asleep? And him waking up . . ." Taylor glanced down at her right hand. The glove wasn't on it right now, but she remembered the way it had flickered into existence. "Did it make me a witch? And did it do something to Zach and Warren?"

Taylor expected another riddle, but all she got in response was, "Yes."

Okay, okay. If this provided an explanation as to why these crazy things were happening to Taylor, maybe this . . . maybe this wasn't a dream. It might be something else. A vision?

"Who is he?"

The Raven quickly settled into its previous routine. "He is king of demons and lord of shadows. The smoke of war is his army, madness his spies. He was awoken by the the touch of another world, when two moons reigned in the sky."

Taylor snapped her fingers in realization. "The double moon! After I left the party, another moon appeared . . . and then disappeared. That's what woke him up?"

The raven did not answer Taylor's question. Rather, they continued, "You must keep his army at bay until the two moons rise again, and the storm cleanses these lands. Without hate, without sin and blood, the fruit of his madness will wither and die before it can ever be born. He will sleep once again in timeless Arcadia."

Now Taylor was confused. You know, beyond even her current suspension of disbelief. "The storm? What storm are you talking about?"

As if on command, the sky began to darken. Heavy gray clouds emerged on the horizon, blotting out the sun. The clouds swept forward so quickly that it looked like the world itself was being consumed. It was mere seconds before even the sky above Taylor was covered as well, and rain poured down heavier than any October rain should. Lightning flashed over the ocean, waves of thunder visible as they blew through the gnarled trees of the forest. Soon, lightning became the most reliable source of light, flashing over the ocean and revealing a tempestuous bay.

And then she finally saw it. It made up so much of the horizon that at first Taylor thought it was nothing but the dark clouds that stretched for miles and miles. That was until she saw how it twisted, how the sea snaked up and swallowed the sky. A hurricane? A tornado. A waterspout, Taylor remembered they were called. But it was larger than Taylor imagined any storm could be.

Taylor turned back to face the Raven. She started yelling now, "It will kill everyone! Arcadia Bay will be wiped off the map! How do I stop it?"

And the Raven answered, "This is not a task for you. The storm must come, or many more will die; if not in water, than in blood."

Now Taylor became angrier, and although it made her loud, it also made her voice shake. She wish she could turn on that steeliness she had had with Logan anytime she wanted. "So what? I was given magic powers and now I'm just supposed to let people die? What the fuck kind of game is that?"

They responded, "It is no game. It is your destiny."
There was a short pause in which Taylor was too shocked at the idea she had any destiny, and then the Raven continued, "Listen closely. Soon your enemies will abandon delicate methods, and they will have no need of these pliable boys anymore. They have learned that stealth will not work, as it has never worked before, and so they will choose the path of war."

Before Taylor could get a grip on what any of that meant, the Raven simply picked up speed, "Taylor, you must find your companions if you are to survive until the second moon returns. They were not awakened by darkness like you were. Seek out the others of your coven: the oracle born in the moonlight, and the guardian of the storm and sky. The three of you must find the Maiden before the soldiers of your enemy begin to take their true form, or you will all die, and their master will rise."

What the fuck!? What the fuck is going on!?

"My - companions? Who are my companions? Who is my enemy? And who the fuck is the Maiden?"

The raven seemed as unperturbed by Taylor's frustration and confusion as they did by the frigid rain. "You will know them soon enough. But hurry, awake! Your enemy has you in their grasp no longer."

"WHO the FUCK is my ENEMY?"

"And remember, should the eclipse come before the second moon comes, should Arcadia Bay become so soaked in blood and bile that it blots out the light, only the blood of the Maiden may subdue the restless god. But please, spare her if you can, for with her Arcadia will perish, and the walls of the prison shall crumble around him."

Taylor wanted to keep fighting, but there was no point. And try as she might to discard this dream, to accept the obvious reality that this was fake, a lie to feel special, likely a delusion of grandeur wrapped up in her recent hallucinations . . . she couldn't. She believed what the raven told her. She even had the feeling, deep down inside, that the Raven was right when they said she had a destiny.

"How, then?" she asked. "How do I fight them?"

"Why," said the Raven, "with that right there, in your hand."

And though she hesitated, Taylor looked down at her hand, and found it clutching a large red stone. A gem, seemingly glowing red in the oppressive dark and deafening rain, that she had last seen drawing the darkness away from Zach's unconscious body. A piece of her staff.

A sudden understanding dawned on Taylor. A faith, a certainty in her purpose.
She looked back up at the Raven and said, "Okay. I'll do it."

And then, she woke up.