Date: Unknown
Location: Somewhere on Myrren
A vision blooms in your mind in muted colors, like paint washed thin with memory.
You see a slim elven hand, pale and dusted with chalk, carefully place the stone onto a folded white cloth. The hallway flickers with torchlight against smooth, rune-etched stone. A woman’s voice calls out behind you, echoing faintly in the charged air:
“Thalen, hurry now, or you’ll be forgotten with the rest...”
The hand lingers for a moment. Then you see him, turning. A young man by elven reckoning, tall, lean, his scholar’s robes torn and soot-streaked.
“We'll forget all of this by the time we reach Caer Myndraelin, Ariandi. That’s the point.”
A pause. An elven woman steps into view, her face lined with grief, lips tight with something unsaid.
“And what about me, Serel?” she asks, softer now, touching his arm.
“Would you forget me, too?”
His mouth opens, as if to answer, but the echo ends. Light fractures. The vision fades like breath on glass.