Far to the north of Kor Dalga and the Drain, beyond the mountains of Kar Dhûn where the winds of winter reigned supreme and snowfall was an everyday sight, lie the temple city of Neras; a fortress of a city, hidden behind thick black walls of stone and protected by the most elite of the soldiers of the land - the Wyrmguard. Anointed warriors sworn to the mighty church, which reigned the lands from north to south.

Much like in Kor Dalga, an impressive cathedral took up the very center of the city - except that this one was easily seen even outside the walls; its spires reached for the night sky like ominous spears, each one the width of a small fortress on its own.

The cathedral itself was easily bigger than any common castle had any right to be, and could easily house the entire population of a city the size of Kor Dalga.

The incredible scale of this blackstone building was only made more impressive by the fact that it was surrounded by lesser temples; some dedicated to the training of the Wyrmguard who guarded the high priestess and her inner circle, some their housing, and some which housed the clergy and trained the priests of the Holy Night; preachers of the night, and leaders of the land in their own right.

A myriad of lit windows adorned the black spires of the cathedral, and in one of these windows was the silhouette of a man.

He stood there, gazing out over the temple city as he contemplated the dream he had had the night before.

It had been an unusual one... a vivid, lucid dream that felt too real to simply ignore.

Especially considering this wasn't the first time he had had a vision that turned out to be an actual premonition.

The cold wind toyed with the open window, rattling the shutters and blowing through his short, black hair.

Deep blue eyes took another glance at the city underneath the tower, and the man turned to leave, letting the window stay open.

His fine, black leather boots rang against the stone floor as he walked down the hall towards the mechanically driven elevator which was the main way to climb or descend the tower.

Minutes later, he walked through the mighty main hall of the cathedral; a hall of pillars, each one lit by four torches and adorned with a banner of midnight blue.

At the end of the hall was a rise in the stone floor, upon which stood an altar covered in runes of polished silver, which played well against the black stone.

Offerings in the form of rare gemstones and metals were placed on the altar, along with bowls of always burning incense.

A mural seeped in darkness took up the entirety of the wall behind the altar, but only a little bit of it could be seen at the moment, as no mass was currently taking place, so lighting up the mural with torches was unnecessary.

The black-haired man stopped in front of the altar and brushed off his black and dark blue tunic, which was beautifully adorned with silver treads.

He gazed upon the mural in front of him and hesitated.

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Praying for clarity was an option, but though this dream of his felt like a premonition or a vision of sorts, it seemed foolish to turn to the god above all, the Father of Night, hoping for answers like a desperate fool.

He of all people should know not to burden the Father with petty things. And yet...

"You are troubled." said a voice from somewhere behind him. A clear, strong yet soft voice.

He turned and kneeled immediately, bowing his head for a moment before he gazed upon the form in front of him;

A tall, slender woman in a midnight blue robe adorned with silver threads. Her short, blonde hair was naturally shaggy, but that did not do much to defuse the air of complete authority that surrounded her.

Her face was beautiful, with high cheekbones, full lips, and calm, blue eyes filled with wisdom beyond her age.

Those who had met this woman, seen her, or even heard her name uttered, knew her as Lady Althea Neralia, high priestess of the ruling Faith, and without any doubt the single most powerful person in the entire land.

With her mere thirty-five years of age, the high priestess was famous for being a young ruler, but an incredibly effective one.

"My lady, I-" said the black-haired man,

"Eran," she cut him off, using his own first name,

"Formalities have their time and place, which is not when you and I are alone. Rise, and walk with me, so that I may hear of what troubles you."

Eran nodded and got back up on his feet.

For all her power and the rumors about her ruthlessness, the high priestess had always treated him well. The bond between the two of them was a lot like that between friends, though with a professional level of respect.

"Very well... Althea." he said and walked over to her.

She smiled slightly and turned to wander around the grand hall with Eran by her side.

"Tell me now. What is on your mind?"

Eran hesitated until she shot him one of those glances that meant 'speak, or else...'

"A dream." he said then,

"One that I can't get out of my head."

Althea glanced at him. A sign that he should go on.

"It's about... a girl," he said,

"I can see her clearly before me, even now."

"Is she dressed?" asked the high priestess with a smug chuckle.

Eran scoffed and shook his head.

"She is. It's not that kind of dream."

"I know. Or you would not have come seeking guidance from me nor our Father of Night. You have a history of having visions, Eran... and my joking aside, I want you to tell me about this dream. In detail."

"Of course," said Eran.

"It started with me appearing in a dark room with no walls, floors, or ceilings. All there is, is darkness... and then she appears, and she is surrounded by this gentle light. It seems almost golden, and it... draws me in. I walk closer, but she doesn't see me. She just stands there, looking at something I cannot see, smiling."

Their footsteps rang gently through the echoing hall as they walked, and Althea nodded once, slowly.

"What does this girl look like?" she asked.

"She is small. Short... petite. Dark brown hair, almost black, down to her shoulders. Heart-shaped face and brown eyes. Her skin is golden and her eyes are almond-shaped - an oriental. Five or so years younger than myself."

The high priestess scoffed and gestured for him to go on, and so he did:

"She is beautiful, for an oriental, and I can barely take my eyes off of her face. But when I manage to, I notice that she is clad in clothes no commoner would wear; a nice tunic, vest, leggings, and leather boots, all of very high quality. I noticed a silver pin on her vest, in the shape of a dragon's head."

The high priestess stopped walking then, and turned her gaze towards Eran, who followed her example and stopped walking.

"An oriental girl wearing noble's clothes, with a dragon's head pin on her vest?"

Eran nodded, his curiosity shooting up quite a bit now.

Did she know anything about this girl?

The high priestess stood there for a while, visibly contemplating.

She smiled slightly and said:

"When next you encounter this girl in your dreams, Eran... you will approach her. Make contact."

Eran raised an eyebrow. Not the reaction he had expected from her - especially not when the girl in his dream was an oriental.

Nevertheless, he nodded once.

"I will be cautious."

The ruler of the land then turned on her heel and gazed upon the shadowed mural behind the altar they had left behind a little while ago.

"How interesting..." he heard her mutter.

"How very interesting..."