Sir Hughes lies in a comatose state, his mind now fully subjugated to whatever power has been influencing his recent crimes. I cannot, will not, condemn a sleeping man. It seems I myself must enter his dream-state to repel whomever, or whatever holds his mind bewitched.
People believe that just because we cannot physically touch them, taste them, feel them, that our dreams aren’t real; but they are. They are made of perception, of imagination, of memories, and of hopes both lost and won.
I dream of dragons, yet I’ve never seen one; I dream of kisses, I have never once tasted. I dream of songs, I have never heard sung; and I dream of souls, yet I have none.