"Do you see the stars? The vast sea above the primordial river?"
Azmakul looked up, and Shilam followed, their gazes piercing through the thick fog in Lanekia and above the dormant river, taking in the formation of the stars.
Shilam didn't understand what he was supposed to see, and so he waited for Azmakul to speak once more, to give an explanation.
He was starved for anything at this point, even gibberish.
"I have seen those stars many times, and yet, every time they are the same but different. A sea of fire, a sea of ice, a sea of chaotic darkness, blinding light, and a thousand different stories of grief and aguish.
I've had the same dream for so long, even when I am awake, or in rest. I see the same black dragon, a mighty power I cannot overcome, and I fear that is the obstacle which has forced us to use the chalice, and I fear this has happened many times."
Shilam's robotic hands quivered, and he slowly looked down at the old dragon, who laughed.
"Don't fret about it."
