When I closed my eyes in the tavern and rolled over into peaceful sleep, I did not expect to see so soon after. It wasn't that I woke up - it was as if my eyes had never closed. Instead I had simply changed the scene I was looking at.

I was in the cave I had slept in several days before, when I had been among friends. It was nighttime. Beyond the ledge there was only fog.

I ruminated on this place of safety I was parted from. Before fate had ensnared me in another adventure. But now I had not even the rewards of earlier quests. No friends. No money. Not even a title that was worth a damn.

I felt very tired, older than my years and rather feeble urge to cry.

Then, I realised I was not alone. I turned, elated. But it was not Him. I should have expected that. Herobrine has made silence a habit.

Instead there was a radiant woman clad in white. Grey eyes. Pale skin. Slender as well. Quite attractive. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't have thought she were real.

She spoke:

"You must be Kay." A warm smile smouldered on her face. Her voice was faintly ethereal. "It's about time we talked."

"Yes I am," I answered warily. "Who are you?"

"Sorry," she responded, the smile not fading. "Rude of me, especially when you desperately wanted to see someone else. I am the Lady of Dreams."

She paused. I got the impression this was supposed to be reassuring if not impressive.

"I'm still waiting on a name." I cracked an impatient smile to hurry her on.

"I've no name but my title." Still that smile. It was genuinely affectionate, but I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. "My kind don't have names."

"Yes," I cocked my head. Was she trying to withhold information? "And let me guess: are you here to contact me in my dreams to encourage me along on my quest? Possibly dictate to me what that quest is? Perhaps you aided one of my comrades in a previous quest. Actually, you don't work for the other Steve, do you?"

She seemed confused.

At first I felt presumptuous, but then felt my mind being searched. I could have stopped her quite easily but I left that information open. It was better hold onto that card for the ideal moment.

"No," she said, seemingly unaware that I'd detected her efforts. "I don't know him personally, but our goals are perhaps similar."

"Then, you should know I was reluctant to help him."

I felt the searching again. Again. I didn't try to stop her. She was hurrying. Something had placed her under pressure and she was in a rush to converse with me, possibly with someone after.

"Yes, I assumed."

"So, have you enough information to convince me, or do you need to read my mind again?"

"Yes." The smile was gone. A more grave and worried air took over. "Thank you, I was wondering if you'd say something. Sorry about such a rudimentary method; I'm in a hurry."

"I can imagine."

She breathed deeply before beginning: "I won't pretend to know the situation; I'm not from here. I just sensed a troubled soul who might do with someone to talk to. It's my job. I don't know what's happening in this strange little world. I'm not sure I want to know. I do want to know what happened to you." She smiled sincerely and reached out a hand. "I've helped a lot of people this way; let me help you too."

I was rather tempted in that moment.

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Is it really that difficult to trust me?" she laughed.

I sat down on a rock and laughed too. I thought about it as I did so, looking at the spring. I tried toying with the speed of the flowing water - something small she might not notice. It slowed to a crawl. Good. I was at least part-way in control here.

"Well, is it?"

I looked up from the spring.

"Yeah, actually," I said unapologetically, letting my accent slip into Thaumic brogue.

With that I expelled her from my mind. It was as though she slammed through the cave wall and shattered the world like glass. I felt myself slip between the cracks and into empty spaces that nightmares flowed through readily. Hamish's split face, the Endling hordes before Zine's walls, the cold I'd felt after I took a bullet for Him in Arcadia, the ashes of all my homes and more were in prominence.

But most of all, I was cast back to the last moments of the battle for Zine Craft. Not Notch's death. Not Jeb containing Israphel. Instead, I remember how Israphel used the Eye to open the End and shatter half the city. As dragons burned the sky and the screams of thousands rose through the smoke, I fell through the cracks between worlds. I floated in that silent realm and I stared into the searing dark and in it I felt a power, a presence, older than Herobrine or Notch or Israphel. Older than the bones of the world. It reached out towards me, to take me and consume me.

That night I couldn't evade that blackness, or the horror lurking within.

And this dread lasted every second of that night. Each moment felt like a lifetime, and I believed I'd be an old man by the time I awoke, sweat on my brow and my breathing leaden.