21. Fragments

*Huh?*

...

*I feel... floating*

*Where am I?*

,,,

*Water?*

*No... This feels different.*

Opens eyes. It was ethereal—like he was suspended in the middle of space.

*In space....?*

Stars shifts slowly.

*Am i moving? Or is it the stars?*

They moved faster, them faster yet. Eventually they were streaking past him, blurring into streaks of white and blue.

*What's happening?!*

The speed was dizzying, and the pressure around him seemed to grow, like a force pulling him forward.

He reached out instinctively, trying to slow himself, but the stars only seemed to rush past him faster.

The world around him warped, the stars stretching into lines of light, as though he was racing through an endless tunnel of lights.

Then, from the chaos, a blue dot appeared on the horizon.

It was small at first, almost insignificant, but it grew—faster, too fast.

The blue dot swelled, becoming a swirling ball of blue and green, and Elliot's heart lurched as he recognized it.

*Its Earth. My world.*

But something's... wrong. The blue ball was swelling at an alarming rate, distorting, growing.

*No. It's not that... it's not growing.*

*I'm crashing...*

He reached forward, trying to stop, but when he looked down at his hands, they weren't his anymore.

They were old, wrinkled, gnarled with age. The skin was pale and scarred, a lifetime of battles and time having worn it down.

His hands trembled, and Elliot's breath caught in his throat.

He looked away, his heart pounding.

*No, this isn't right.*

The world around him shifted again, the rushing stars fading to black.

*

*

*

Suddenly, he was home.

In his old house.

The place where he had grown up.

He could hear their voices—his parents laughter, his mom's soft words, casual conversations.

They were at peace, living their lives as though nothing had ever changed.

For the briefest of moments, he felt something warm—a rush of longing.

He wanted to run to them.

Hug them.

Tell them that everything was fine.

That he was okay.

But when he moved, his legs felt heavy. The world around him seemed to flicker.

*No, don't...*

Then, an explosion—a blast of unimaginable force.

The world shook, and the ground cracked beneath him.

The walls of his house crumbled, and debris flew in all directions.

Elliot was thrown backward, his body lifted off the ground by the shockwave.

When he hit the floor again, he couldn't breathe.

Panic filled him as he rose, gasping for air.

He looked around. The world was no longer the home he knew.

There were bodies everywhere—people, some of them still alive, others mutilated beyond recognition.

Grotesque creatures, monstrous and horrid, tore through the streets, their forms twisted and alien.

The city, his city, had become a battlefield.

*This isn't real,* he thought desperately. *This isn't...*

Then, as if in response to his thoughts, he saw something in the reflection of a broken window—his reflection.

But it wasn't his face. No. It was someone else's.

It was Rhaegos.

The prince.

The body he inhabited.

The eyes staring back at him were unfamiliar, ancient, and distant.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, he heard a voice—a deep, ancient voice, shaking the very air around him.

*"Rhaegos!"* The voice boomed.

Elliot turned sharply, feeling the presence of something massive behind him.

There, in the distance, a great black dragon stood, its scales shimmering with an eerie glow, its eyes burning like molten gold.

The dragon was immense, dwarfing everything in its path.

The dragon spoke again, its voice echoing like thunder.

*"Remember your mission, Rhaegos.*

*You must collect the fragments before it is too late."*

The words pierced through Elliot like a bolt of lightning.

He felt a surge of power in his chest, a dark, oppressive energy rising within him.

His mind spun, trying to hold on to the fragments of his own identity, but it was slipping away.

The feeling of being torn between two lives, two souls, was overwhelming. His thoughts scattered.

Before he could process anything further, the world around him shattered.

---

Elliot gasped, his eyes snapping open as the sharp scent of the sea filled his senses.

His body jerked upright, his breath ragged.

He was back on the *Windshear*, his cot feeling unfamiliar beneath him.

His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of the dream still clinging to him like a fog.

The memory of the dragon's voice, the reflection of Rhaegos, and the city burning—everything felt too real.

It was all too real.

*Fragments...* The word lingered in his mind, like a whisper from a distant past.

What did it mean?

What mission?

What fragments?

He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. *Get a grip,* he thought. *It's just a dream...*

Elliot pushed himself out of bed, his legs shaky as he stood up. He needed to clear his head.

With quick, steady steps, he made his way to the deck of the ship, the cool morning air biting at his skin as he emerged from below.

The ship's crew was already stirring, preparing for the day ahead.

The main islands were still far off, but they could see the dark silhouettes of the first atolls now, rising like shadows over the horizon.

Amara was standing near the edge of the ship, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "It appears that were nearing our destination."

Elliot walked to the side of the ship and leaned over the railing, gazing out at the endless sea.

His hands clenched against the cold wood, the reality of his situation sinking in. The dream was still with him, the dragon's voice echoing in his mind.

*Rhaegos...*

"Elliot?" Amara's voice broke through his thoughts.

He turned to see her standing behind him, her face soft with concern. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired."

But Amara didn't look convinced. She walked over, standing beside him as the wind whipped through her hair.

"You looked like you were deep in thought."

Elliot's gaze flickered back to the distant islands. "It's not just that. I... I had a dream. A weird dream. It felt like... like I was someone else."

Amara's eyes widened slightly. "Someone else?"

"Yeah... but it wasn't just a dream. It was like I was remembering things— memories. A mission. Something about fragments. I don't know what it all means."

Amara didn't respond immediately. Instead, she turned to look at the ocean, her brow furrowing in thought.

"That sounds... intense. But you're not alone in this, Elliot. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Together."

He met her gaze, her eyes offering a quiet reassurance. The words, though simple, were enough to settle his turbulent thoughts, if only for a moment.

But as they stood there, the wind at their backs and the ocean stretching endlessly before them, Elliot couldn't shake the feeling that this journey—this path he was on—would lead him closer to those fragments.

And when he finally uncovered them, he would have to confront whatever lay behind the name of Rhaegos.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd finally discover who he really was.