Tales From a Thousand Worlds

“Time to get up, Qosa.”

Nhaqosa woke to the comforting sound of his father’s voice. As his eyes opened, he could see the ceiling of his room, and could smell around him the familiar, reassuring scents of his parents’ house. For a fragment of a moment a strange sensation swept over him, a dichotomy of experiences, of memories of being enclosed in ice, or burning suns beating down on blood stained sands, distant and fading in the waking hours. He rubbed at sleepy eyes and shook his head. They were dreams, no more, like many others he had had before, these ones brought on by the events of the previous day. In the hills beyond the village, a terrible storm had set in and he had become lost. His solid, dependable father had found him and carried him home.

Follow this link for Part Five of Echoes of Dark Reflections