“...Oh~ Sleeping Angel. Ri~se again. Sleeping Angel let your light shine again~. Oh~ Sleeping Angel. Ri~se again.” A motherly voice sang. Her voice fitting for the children lullaby she so often repeated for Godwin.

Her soft hand stroked his forehead, brushing his long golden hair away from his closed eyes.. The beautiful voice helped him wake to the living world, and her gentle touch brought a warmth to his heart.

She was the closest thing to a mother he had.

He opened his eyes with a deliberate and sedated pace. His blurry eyes cleared to reveal the only person who ever cared about him. Her warm brown eyes-wrinkled at the edges-looked at him with so much caring and love it made his eyes full of tears.

She wore a headscarf and long brown robes of a maid, but he wouldn’t ever dare to treat her that way. Mother Melissa was the jewel of his bitter heart. The single kindness the world ever showed him.

“Mother,” he whispered, choking with emotion. He still reeled from the rollercoaster he had gone through yesterday.

“Sweet child. You were screaming again. Have your nightmares returned?” She smiled, making the world a brighter place.

“N-no.” He tried to lie. What was he going to tell her? That he dreamt of towering buildings touching the very clouds above them? Or vast lands and cities being turned into waste by divine weapons of smog and fire? Or was he to tell her of plagues that rocked the entire world’s populations?

A number he remembered somehow. 7… 7 billion people. Mind-boggling.

Mother Melissa raised an eyebrow. Her smile never diminished, but her eyes narrowed. She knew when he was lying. She raised him from the small child to the young man he was today. There was little she didn’t know about him.

He looked away in shame. He hated this feeling of not telling her the truth. He gulped as he recounted to her small parts of what he remembered, taking out the frightening and horror in between. He let her know how he feared they were real.

The despair and anxiety of living in a place so jam-packed as a New York or a London made his skin itch.

She laughed. “They are dreams, young Godwin. We all experience them. Some fly, others dance and dance for ages in the colors. Don’t let them control you.” Mother Melissa patted his head and stood up. Her age showed with how much her body creaked with such simple movement. “Come, I’ve made you a breakfast to die over. Eggs and strips of bacon, just like you enjoy them. Oh! And some of the fluffiest bread I’ve ever seen.”

Godwin sat up. He knew they weren't simple nightmares because he’d experienced both. The fake ones all felt too flimsy and mashed together without real thought, but these were too perfect. Everything fell in place.

Smog created by fueled horseless carriages. The tight spaces within cities because of the ever increasing number of people and lack of true war. Dirty waters because of the mad alchemists dumping their waste.

But Mother Melissa would not hear it. She hurried him to dress in clean clothes and prepared his training tabard and sword. Then, without a moment to waste, she pushed him down the hallway into the dining room of his small home. Training would begin at the fourth bell after sunrise. The third had rung right before she woke him up.

Thram was already waiting there patiently. He stood at the window, hiding in the shadows of the building as he surveyed the surroundings. Godwin did not know his story, but his skill and capability were obvious to anyone with a mind to think. Why his uncaring father would send someone so strong escaped him.

It was also the same situation with Mother Melissa. She was the kindest, most wondrous person to ever walk the lands, and yet, she stood by his side.

Thram turned to look at him with those far-off eyes. It was like he looked through him rather than at him. Godwin felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Master. I have news.” Thram spoke as he moved forward, then kneeled in front of Godwin.

Mother Melissa hurried to force him onto his seat and began stuffing his plate with delicious food. They made his stomach growl from its pleasant smell. “Not now, Thram. We spoke about this already.”

Thram stood up. “Another occurred last night. I will hide this no longer.”

“Hide what?” Godwin said in between bites of bacon that melted in his mouth. He couldn’t help but moan at the ecstasy he felt eating Mother’s food.

That made her smile beam. Still, there was a line of worry in her eyes, Godwin did not miss it.

“This was the twenty-seventh assassination attempt, Master.”

Godwin choked on the hard-boiled egg.

Thram returned to his post by the window. “Something must have happened to your Father and his heirs.”

Mother Melissa gave Godwin a cup of lukewarm water and lightly patted his back. Godwin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Father? The man is one of the most fearsome Knights of the realm, with his army and those ancient weapons and armor. How would anyone get to him?”

Thram’s face darkened. Something hit a nerve. “A blade to the back. An ambush, or simply incredible bad luck.”

Godwin looked back at Mother Melissa, hoping for a hint to why Thram was literally shaking in his spot.