Mission From The King
The past few days had been, in no way easy on the prince of phoenixes. His dreams of the past only got more frequent and lasted a much longer time, following him into the day and bombarding his mind with a boatload of information.
Arthur was already getting fed up with the whole process. Fortunately, after the memory of his mother, the rest that came were of happier times. That and the fact that the overwhelming grogginess never seemed to return unless he was trying to sleep during which he would be powerless to stop the overwhelming spell of sleep that would assault him.
Memories of training with his brother, hunting down animals as a competition, and playing with other phoenixes in the woods or river. All he read off of these memories was endless ignorant bliss.
In fact, it was these memories that allowed him to begin to suspect why he could never really detach himself from his brother.