*Dorian Whitehall*
A King looks down at the sea of fire below engulfing the buildings and streets, nobles and commoners run alike through the streets confused, horrified seeing their loved ones being burned to ashes and trampled to death by eachother in the frenzied panick. A man running down a street bleeding from whatever fell on him, turns a corner sharp and spots a child crouched with his hands tucked into his stomach, they lock eyes, he could see the absolute fear within the child, but he was torn between running for his life and helping the child, as the child reached out his hand for the man to grasp it, something fell from the sky a rock perhaps or maybe a meteorite no it was a ball of living flame, it engulfed the helpless child as he struggled against the flames that consumed him. The flame then set its eyes upon the man it's plain cold stare contrasted the heated flames that surrounded it, pain rushed through the man in that instant, he didn't know what caused it, was it a wound inflicted earlier? Or maybe it was something that the flame was doing, as it continued to stare at him, the flames began to materialise into what at first seemed impossible, but had to be, a man, it was after materialising into a man, it had pale skin and bright golden eyes and hair, the man who stood in pain and terror stumbled back in fear, "Stay back" he said weakly his voice hoarse from the ash of the flames. Nothing would or could save him now, he stared into the cold soulless eyes of the once flame turned man, the pale man lifted his hand and the he slowly began to feel his body melt painfully as he grunted and screamed in agony, "torture a nightmare this had to be a nightmare" and it all went dark.
Dorian awoke in a pool of sweat his skin slick and wet, what had happened a nightmare an omen or past events he couldn't figure it out. He looked around the dimly lit chamber to make sure he was back safely in his bed. Before he flopped against the pillows this had been the third time in the past month he had awoken in the dead of night in a pool of sweat and each time he lied and said he had forgotten to go to the toilet before going to bed. But Dorian was a King and couldn't have rumours that a sixteen year old boy was wetting himself in bed so he simply decided that only to tell those closest to him about what happened like Tartan and Dumbar even though the only thing they would say is "Well it's not a big deal everyone has nightmares and even if It was a omen or future event wouldn't you have recognised the place or citizens" but he hadn't so they would say "it must be a past event so" and even if they were right he couldn't unsee what he saw, a thing going from flames to a man, what sort of creature was it a Demon? Or Basilisk from Rhakr, maybe but since when could the red men shape shift into flames that's what scared him, if they can or maybe could do that what would be the implications of that on him and his kingdom.
There was a knock on the door it was the elderly maid who attended the sick, her voice was old and frail "My King, the guards sent for me is everything okay in there, they said you were screaming as if you were being stabbed a million times, may I come". Dorian panicked if she saw my sheets he thought, "oh crap she'd kill me" he whispered low, "Just give me a second" he reassured her, whilst he stumbled in his chambers with the wet sheets.
A minute later she entered, Merilyn was her name, eighty pushing eighty one next August, old King Rys used to say "if Merilyn wasn't around the Kingdom wouldn't function properly". She had white hair though some of it was now falling out, she wore old stained clothes, black now from all the work but once was dark green. She had even less teeth, two at most though no one seemed to care, she always stood upright even if she was struggling to walk ten steps without having to catch her breath.
"Dorian my child did you wet yourself?" She asked. Dorian blushed slightly he was always shy, even when he was ten and had train with the trainers and squires, but this was different he wasn't supposed to be King, he hated it, he was just supposed to be some prince or really just a simple noble that would live in a castle and drink and eat for his whole life. But instead he had to train and only eat proportional since he was still a young growing boy, and most of all he hated that his older brother Gwyn should have been King, he had perished along with their parents in a fire, in their own Great Hall only a year prior.
He didn't want to tell her the truth but he knew he couldn't hide it forever, that he was having those nightmares again. So he said it "Merilyn, I'm having the dreams again of the past or future or whatever, where I see flames ones that burn so bright they vanquish darkness", Merilyn stood there for a minute her head held high as she pondered his question "Young King and what do you think the nightmares mean?" Dorian had been so focused on what other people thought of what was happening that he forgot to ask himself of how he thought and felt "Ammmh", Merilyn smiled "Dorian you always ask others what they think rather than focus on yourself, I know a King is supposed take his people's opinions on board but you take a bit too much, you know sometimes you should just listen to what your head tells you to do, maybe you'll learn a thing or two about yourself" she sighed "Dorian if these visions of the past are true what will you do?" That surprised Dorian he hadn't thought of it, maybe Merilyn was right all along he should use his head, he always used his heart but that won't always benefit him like this time."If the visions are true". Dorian took a long hard look at cold walls of his chambers how they were damp from moisture and the wet pool piling on the floor, "I'll get the documents and manuscripts of all record history of cataclysms brought to me at once" Merilyn smirked "Then let's get to work".