The Broken Dreams

I wake up to the gentle rays of sunlight shining down on me. My wife is lying beside me in a most comfortable bed. Though my vision is blurry, I know she is smiling at me.

I don’t remember what happened, but I suddenly found myself outside, looking out into a town I helped rebuild. I hear the laughter of children, as they run through the streets ignorant of what’s to come. The moment is a happy one, and yet, every time I see this memory in my dreams, it only brings me pain.

Standing in that very field I once called my home, nothing but the ash and dust remains. The sun does not dare illuminate this scene either, as the charred remains of people I considered family lay still, unburied.

As I walk past the ruined walls, the ones that have now been reclaimed by nature, I come across a toy. A doll of a knight, with the initials A.C. engraved upon its foot, and I remember that I had a son once.