Awakening

A gentle breeze rattling a pair of well made wooden shutters, ever so lightly, woke Dorian up.

He instantly came awake, stumbling to his feet as he looked around in panic. His mind became incredibly on edge, every muscle in his body tensing.

Colors! He was surrounded by colors!

His chest heaved as he looked around the furnished room, soaking in the sight of everything.

A very faint rattling sound rang out again, drawing his attention to the closed window behind him. Pale gleams of moonlight could be seen, dropping down from one of the faint moons that orbited Taprisha, in the chaotic space above.

"Is this a dream?" He pushed his hands up into the air, waving them back and forth. They began to shake as they moved, his nervous excitement overwhelming him.

Dorian looked at his hands. They were pitch black, with small claws on the end of each of them. The hands of an Ifrit.