"Dreams must be kept," he told her, and despite the heavy layers of meaning those words imparted, she knew, this time at least, exactly what he was referring to.

A dimly lit room. No, an amphitheater, dismal for the grayish fog hanging in the air. Tall and somber, the austerely clad speakers could be made out, each with heavy-footed composure taking by turn their place on the dais. And though the uttering of their mouths shook the very foundations of her soul in reverberation, it was a creeping, frigid silence that met the straining ears of that assembly's audience of one.

"Speak," choked in her throat an unvoiced entreaty, "...and I will listen."