Consciousness comes and goes like the tide, and every day is as disorienting as the last. Each wakeful hour brings but one consistency - a gnawing agony that pulls at the peripheries of your mind. It wants to undo you, see you sundered and rent beyond recognition. It is a losing battle, but you hold onto every hope you do and do not deserve. 

But when the dreams come, when sleep claims your mind, these have become your new worlds. You dream of many things.

You dream of a cold, harsh country. You dream of a warm hearth found within a stone-faced fortress. It is here you find freedom. It is in these walls you find peace. But the dream doesn't last, and you awaken.

You dream of a humble town settled along the shore. You dream of unraveling the mysteries of the world around you and holding true power within your grasp, within your heart. But it is not enough to save them. Not enough to save any of them. The power doesn't make a difference in the end, and the dream gives way to a painful wakefulness. Not as painful as the dream itself, however. 

You dream of adventures in a strange world. Of allies forged from hardship, of familial bonds that warp and puppeteer you. You dream of kingdoms and quadrants, and allies and friends. You are a part of something much larger than yourself, but the strength with which you press forward surprises even you. This dream gnaws at you more than the others, and the pain of waking feels more poignant than the rest. 

You dream of many faces. Some you recognize, many you don't - and yet they are familiar all the same. You dream of a sister reaching out with her hands, your own tied and unable to reach. You dream of the warm voice of one you think you love, and they beg for you to hold on. You don't know if these are made from your mind or your prison trying to break you.

You dream, and you wake. You dream, and you wake. You have lived a thousand lifetimes, and with each, a part of you is lost within them. You are tired, but you wish for nothing more than to wake up.

You want to wake up so badly. 

Your mind is spent, and it is here that you think that it has won. You cannot tell where the webs end and you begin, your mind begins to fade - a deeper, longer sleep beckoning you with three legs and five. 

But then the world stirs, the webs give way. 

Wake up.