The same emerald-green flame from the woodland burned brightly from the single-pane windows of that house. The scenery beyond had changed some, from a lush, rolling forest to a more tropical, arid climate. It was Fridgar's homeland, Upsala, Southern Gauthrel, ruled by the slaving clan of Nordhoff. While he missed the land some, he felt no remorse for the homes that became swamped by the rolling emerald flames.
This room, unlike the rest of the dream, carried incredible detail. Every nook and cranny was carefully placed, carved into the memory of the Lothar. It was in this house that he'd spent most of his life, and the detail reflected it so. When he laid eyes on that chair, he didn't need to see the face of the man who sat upon it. Only one man sat upon that chair, as though it was his throne, and that was Robek. Various pelts of the monsters and animals he'd slain laid woven together on the frame, which Robek had always claimed was made from the bones of a Feron.
The arm that laid upon the rest, gripping tight in anger, only further cemented the idea. This was, indeed, Robek. Looking upon the man brought Fridgar's hairs to stand on end, made his blood turn cold, and his skin; pale. "Anywhere. Anywhere is better than-" "-Fridgar," the deep, hoarse voice of an older Lothar cut him off. The young Lothar looked to his sire, petrified. "What have I told you about leaving?"
With that, the muscular arm pressed into the rest, and the figure lifted from the chair. The man was towering, far above Fridgar and Sybil alike. He must have been something like ten feet tall. Unnoticed by the Lothar, the room grew bigger around them to accommodate the size of the man. When he turned to face them, his features were empty, overwritten. His face was a culmination of scribbles, black and crossed off completely.
In his free hand; he held an empty tankard. The air around him stunk of mead. A deep, throaty sigh left the monstrous man. "I guess I'll have to remind you."
Fridgar didn't reply, he simply remained frozen there, trembling slightly. Beyond the house, the emerald green flames rolled closer and closer, until they, too, swamped their home in their burning wrath. The dim atmosphere of the home lit up a vicious green in tandem with the connection.
