Korius eventually fell asleep after a few drinks and hours. He wasn't drunk, so he slept soundly, wrapped in his new cloak and had consumed enough alcohol to at least not think about the troubling news and confirmation that he had made earlier that day. Korius' dream was nothing special, just memories of his youth. However, about half-way through his dream, it took a turn. A shroud descended upon the scene in the monastery and became a stormy, muddy field. It was another vision from another person's life. This time, however, he noticed something odd about his vision, probably because this was the darkest environment yet. In the left, he saw everything just the same, seeing his opponent's figure in front of him, and following every motion of the fast-moving blades in his hands. Out of his right eye, he saw everything as clear as day, much better than his left, but the movements of the opponent's were blurry. Korius woke up as blades clashed, and panted, cold sweat seeping through his fur like last time. This time, he knew who's memories these were, but there was one more question, why was he seeing them all the time?