The sleeping draught worked quickly, and I felt myself sinking into unconsciousness, darker and deeper this time, and mercifully, dreamless.
Morning came too soon. I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all, my body heavy and my mind foggy. It reminded me of the nights after Podana and before the sleeping draught therapy.
I was back to being exhausted before my day even began, and this was despite having slept for an extra hour because I was excused from conditioning.
"You okay?" Alar asked as he returned to our room from the showers. "You look tired."
I winced. "I forgot the sleeping draught and had a bad dream."
His expression tightened with concern. "Did you create more connections?"
"It wasn't that kind of dream."
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
I shook my head. "I want to forget about it."
Later, when we entered the mess hall, Shovia took one look at me and frowned. "You look terrible again. What happened? You were doing so well."
I sat down next to her. "Forgot the sleeping draught and had a strange dream."
She tensed. "Did you merge with animal consciousness?"
I shook my head. "It wasn't one of those. It was a nightmare rather than anything prophetic. The Citadel was under attack."
I didn't mention the bodies. Didn't mention Alar dying in my arms, his last words, the terrible finality of his eyes going dark.
Shovia looked skeptical but didn't push. "Stress dreams are normal. We're all anxious about the bonding ceremony."
"Exactly," Morek added through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "I dreamed that I showed up to the Day of Volition naked and all the female cadets wanted to touch me." He shivered dramatically. "What a nightmare."
The others laughed, and I forced myself to smile, but I couldn't shake the effects of the dream. It clung to me like a black, suffocating smoke.
After breakfast, we filed into the strategy room for our first class of the day. Captain Odinah was briefing us on defensive formations, using a model of the Citadel to demonstrate proper positioning during an attack.
Was that a coincidence? Or was the universe trying to tell me something?
I kept seeing the roof as it had been in my dream—scorched, blood-soaked, littered with bodies. I kept hearing Alar's voice:Some fates can't be changed.
"Cadet Strom." Odinah's sharp voice cut through my thoughts. "What's the primary weakness in this formation?"
I stared at the model, my mind blank. "I...the eastern approach?"
"Wrong. You weren't paying attention."
"Sorry, Captain. Won't happen again."
She cast me a warning glare. "See that it doesn't."
The lecture continued, but I'd lost any chance of catching up. My mind kept circling back to the dream, examining every detail, searching for meaning.
Was it prophetic? It hadn't felt like Podana. That vision had been overwhelming, drowning me in hundreds of simultaneous consciousnesses. This had been singular, focused, undeniably mine.
But also undeniably real in a way normal dreams weren't.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Things didn't improve during my flight training later that afternoon.
