Dread Fort Perilous - Legion X "Infortunatus"

Heroics: Clairvoyant

Inside the cavernous chamber guarded by Magister Nezaroth's division of apprenticed mages from the Mage Corps, Mighty Solore sees the past and the future in her dreams.

'Do you think it's still alive?'

Watching from the shadows at a safe distance, an apprentice dressed in a Legionary mage's hooded robes was pointing at the dragon. 'It's stopped breathing,' he said. 'And the blue fires from its scales have gone out.' He swore feelingly. 'Astere, if the Magister finds out that the dragon's died on our watch, he'll make our souls into blaster catalysts!'

'Stop jumping to conclusions, Penteluth.'

Another apprentice appeared from the gloom, and slowly sneaked closer to the dragon, before laying a gloved hand on the petrified titan's stone-cold side.

'The specimen is catatonic, not dead,' she said, eyes closed in focus as she felt the dulled aura subtly emanate from the dragon's pallid scales. 'I don't think it's aware of our presence.'

'What do you think it's doing?'

'Dreaming.'

———

The sights passed by, distorted, oscillating in pulsating flashes of light and dark as Mighty Solore dreamt, seeing jumbled prophecies of times far gone and yet to happen rushing in and out of focus like a waterfall of a mirror's fractured shards.

'Father, what is happening to me?'

Solore was a hatchling, scrambling at the edge of the cave which had once seemed like her entire world. It was dark outside and the Red Moon was high and full, and yet she couldn't bring herself to go back to sleep.

Not after what she had seen.

It had felt real. It was as if she was there with the dying Dawn around her, as if she could touch the carnage if she reached out with her claws and tried. She could feel the clarion calls shake her bones as galloping hooves of gold and silver raced to meet the relentless hordes of tenebrous dark, the grieving cold of sunless skies swallowed by the blackest fog of sorcerous night, rivers of broken corpses.

'The visions, they attack me. I have dreamt of terrible things, seen myself falling into chains, seen all the skies of the Dawn swallowed by the gaping maw of Doom. Father, it's horrible! When will it stop? I want to make it stop!'

'You have the Sight, my Blood.' The volcano's head shimmered with the steady drip of lava as he spoke. 'It will never stop.'

Again, the memory shattered and fell away, and Solore was alone in the labyrinth of time's endings once more.

Suddenly she heard it.

It happened every time, in every dream she had.

The sounds of a canid panting, and the pounding of eager feet.

The cerberus was close.

Visions growing around her into a maze of walls, Solore braced herself for the chase to start.

'- Found you!'

Three heads yapping with bestial glee, the cerberus smashed its way around a corner, and begun to chase her through the sprawling maze of visions, burning the path behind her with its flaming eyes and dribbling maw.

Solore ran on all fours, desperate for reprieve.

In all of her dreams, there was always that accursed hellhound, that blasphemous dog mutated with three heads. What did it mean? Why did it plague her so? Solore didn't know, and the cerberus never gave a clear answer.