A bright golden-white light blazed through the sky …
… the roar of thunder …
… the bright burning flash of stillness…
… the war had begun with fire!
We had lived for years in peace, but the regimented Faithful came with swords blazing and struck at our dreaming. They came in the hundred and seventieth revolution of the Departure of the Dreamer, as our hearts had begun to fully heal.
They came in their thousands like streaming rivers of burning gold …
… the rushing regimented fire came blazing
… the Faithful had come!
They came from the City of Zealots from the Isle of Creed. They marched until the day stream until they reached the flowing river and the stars of zenith.
The Faithful came with fire to purge us of our dreams
… did our brethren not see that we were of the same blood…
… we were of the same dreaming, but at different points in the star-filled road
The Faithful march to the City of the Dream Star, where they laid siege to the city, reducing it to the ground and destroying the Tower of Stargazing. They moved onto the City of the Forward Lights, where the dreaming stars showed the joyous possible futures. The city housed the Temple of the Forward Light.
Their fire spread, destroying the city and the temple, and the Çéyâda called us Şemhadan, the Heretics. Still, the Faithful came with their bound words and their armies.
In anger, we set forth in the morning to summer’s point where we engaged in battle … this was the battle of the Zorléan Heights …
… the morning and night were lost in fire and lightning
… now where would the road lead us?
…were our dreams forever gone?
