Habondia tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find peace in her sleep. The nightmare that haunted her dreams lingered like a dark specter, refusing to release its grip on her mind. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, a stark contrast to the chill that permeated the room. With a heavy sigh, she reluctantly pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

The floorboards creaked beneath her weight as she made her way to the window to open the curtains. The soft glow of the moon cast its light across her bedsit. Habondia stared at the moon for a few seconds as if hesitating about what to do next, then fluttering her eyes before continuing to the bathroom.

Her uniform felt suffocating, she had gone to sleep without even changing. With a determined air, she shed the garments, letting them fall to the floor in a heap before stepping into the shower.

The steam from the water enveloped her in a comforting embrace, the warm water cascading over her skin like a cleansing tide. Habondia closed her eyes, letting the rush of water drown out her thoughts. Slowly, she emerged from the shower, her skin tingling with the remnants of heat as she wrapped herself in the warmth of the bathrobe.

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Sinking into the plush cushions of the couch, she reached for a nail file, the smooth surface cool against her fingertips. Her eyes fell upon the aged codex that lay open on her desk, its leather cover worn with age and its yellowed parchment pages. "Legends of the Lake," she murmured, as she believed that was the closest translation.

Myrddin Emrys had recommended this codex, though the reasons remained unclear. The tales within its pages spoke of highland lakes and ancient Anglo, Saxon, and Jute peoples. Habondia struggled to decipher the archaic text, the Old English words dancing before her eyes like elusive phantoms.

With a furrowed brow, she consulted a tattered dictionary, painstakingly translating each word and recording its meaning in a notebook. The task was arduous, the hours slipping away unnoticed as she delved deeper into the labyrinthine passages of the ancient text.

As the clock struck 2:00 AM, exhaustion finally claimed her, pulling her into the realm of dreams once more. The visions that awaited her were more shadows and whispers, she would relive that dream again.