Be here in my dreams.

I was young when I killed the Shadow Lord, and with the Zilartian princes making their move, I had more important things to preoccupy myself with.

But lately, as I reached the limits of a Dragoon's potential, I've been feeling strange. Well, mostly dreams. It start's the same, I'm always by the Mog House, and there are these markings on the ground that I've never noticed before. And I have this hourglass that I set upon the trail markings.



When I do, the city darkens and statues of beastmen roam the streets. People surround me, but we are few in this city controlled by beastmen. Some of them I know, Cieria is by my side always, and so are some people from our linkshell. Most are strangers, though.



We swarm monsters, and monsters swarm us. Many times we fall to their numbers, and unlike the monsters out in the world, these beastmen are stronger, more intelligent. The cities we thought of as our havens become the enemy's base, and we infiltrate.



The battles stretch out for hours and days it seems. Each individual falls quickly, for the combined prowess of adventurers exceeds that of any Orcish mob. But they come in waves and waves to drive us out or destroy us.



We prevail at least, and the tomb of the Overlord rises and falls, and many of us fall with it. Upon the earth where it died, I see the scepter of the fabled Hydra Corps. Then I wake up, in my mog house dazed, and a little woozy too. I swear I dreamed the whole thing, but in the secret secret pocket of my Gobbiebag there are six bronze coins, the currency of the old San d'Orian kingdom before gil became the standard currency of civilized nations.

And I walk out of the Mog House, still a bit sick, and what does my feverish mind see:



And when I see Ettie again, she's gnawing on something, as though it were a rare treat.



Yum.