She knows this dream.
It’s a cloudless, moonless night. It’s dark save for the glow of her body which illuminates only the smallest circle around her where blades of grass dance in a rolling breeze. Aquilia tips her head up and feels small as she looks into the endless void, so vast and dark and lonely that she shivers, afraid that it might reach down and pluck her up into it where she’ll be lost forever.
It’s a familiar ache, a sadness that comes from feeling disconnect...