The nightmare came without warning.
Clek stood in the garden, the bronze coin in his hand, the stars wheeling overhead in their endless dance. But the garden was wrong—the flowers were black, the leaves withered, the sky a bruised purple that seemed to pulse with a malevolent heartbeat. He tried to move, but his feet were rooted to the ground, the earth clutching at his ankles like grasping fingers.
And then he heard it. A whisper. Soft at first, then growing louder, more insistent, a chorus of voices that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
*The power is returning, Clek. The Awakening is coming. You cannot stop it. You cannot escape it. You are the key. You are the lock. You are the beginning and the end.*
He woke with a gasp, his body covered in sweat, his heart pounding against
