"They are coming." A voice emanates from the darkness. I try to open my mouth to ask who is coming, but my lips are frozen in place. The rest of me is just as rock-solid and I'm not sure if I'm breathing or even alive. The darkness is more stifling than my immobility.
     "Coming, coming, coming, Warrior. Go. Go! They are coming."
     I strain against my body, urging it, wishing it, willing it to move but to no avail.
     "Go. They are coming. They are dying, Warrior, they are coming. Go!"
      Fear creeps through my limbs, splitting my bones and draining my blood and crushing my heart with the strength of an iron fist.
     "They are dying, they are coming."
     A tear finds its way onto my cheek, defying the rest of my immovable self.
     "Go, Warrior, go."
     Another tear falls.
     "They are here."

I sit up straight in bed, shivering and sweating. My skin is hot and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know this means I have a fever—that I'm sick, need rest, soup, lemonade, crackers, a movie on the couch—my thoughts are too jumbled to be sure. But the voice's words are clearer than water. I know they're true and I know what I have to do—who I have to tell.
I stumble out of bed and into the hall only to collapse against the wall, panting. My legs are wobbly and I feel dizzy enough to be on a merry-go-round. "Luxa." I croak, and wonder how far my voice can actually carry in the lamp-lit hallway. Luxa is only a room away, the next door down the hall since I decided to stay in her family's quarters again, yet the distance feels like miles.
     I take a few deep breathes, trying to steady my wobbly-blotchy vision. I blink to clear the darkness out of my eyes but the darkness of the hallway still renders me nearly blind. For a split second I'm able to focus on the edge of Luxa's doorway and I take a step—and the darkness is filled with splashes of red and yellow as something strikes my head. It takes me several moments before I realize I'm looking at everything sideways, lying on the floor with my sweaty hair against the wall.
I hit my head? That has to be it. It couldn't have been them because they are coming, Warrior. They are here.
     "Luxa." I say, but I can't even hear my own voice. Maybe I'm still dreaming and this dizziness will end when the vision does.
"They are coming. They are here." The voice is whispering to me again, but my own lips are moving and I think I'm the one who said the words. Can I hear myself again?
     "Luxa. Luxa, Luxa, Luxa. Luxa!" I chant her name, louder and louder, and the last time I think I hear my voice echoing in the hallway. Echoes... I ball my hand into a fist and swing my arm back against the wall, over my head. The soft thud lights up my surroundings for the briefest of moments and I can see Luxa sit up in bed. I sigh with relief, knowing she's coming and I can tell her what was so important about the voice and it's words.
     Her violet eyes appear over me, so close that I can see the shapes of flower petals in the distortions of her irises. Her mouth is moving and her forehead is creased with worry. I'm suddenly aware of my ringing ears where moments before there was only stifled silence. I lift a hand and touch Luxa's cheek. There's blood on my knuckles and I wonder why.
     "They are here, Luxa. They're here. You have to—" And I cough, my vision clouds over completely and darkness returns me to something worse than sleep. Sleep is supposed to be peaceful.

     There once was a shepherd boy who sat on the hillside watching the village sheep. He tried to pay attention but fell asleep and dreamed that a Wolf was prowling around his flock. He woke, crying loudly, "Wolf! Wolf! The Wolf is chasing the sheep!"
     The villagers came running up the hill to help the boy drive the wolf away. But when they arrived at the top of the hill, they found no wolf. The boy said it had been a dream, and a mistake.
     "Don't cry 'wolf', shepherd boy," said the villagers, "when there's no wolf!" They went grumbling back down the hill.
     Later, the boy fell asleep again and dreamed again. He woke once more, crying, "Wolf! Wolf! The wolf is chasing the sheep!" To his abashment, he watched the villagers run up the hill to help him drive the wolf away.
     When the villagers saw no wolf they sternly said, "Save your frightened song for when there is really something wrong! Don't cry 'wolf' when there is NO wolf!"
     The boy hung his head and watched them go grumbling down the hill once more.
     He managed to stay awake, and later he saw a REAL wolf prowling about his flock. Alarmed, he leaped to his feet and cried out as loudly as he could, "Wolf! Wolf!"
     But the villagers thought he was dreaming again, and so they didn't come.
     At sunset, everyone wondered why the shepherd boy hadn't returned to the village with their sheep. They went up the hill to find the boy and the flock. Instead they found the boy crying in front of a field painted with blood. On the field was a pack of wolves.
     "There really was a wolf here! And now there are more! I cried out, 'Wolf!' Why didn't you come?"
     The villagers could not answer him, and the wolf pack climbed the hill to continue their feast.

I open my eyes slowly, groggily, and find myself in the hospital wing with Luxa sitting in the chair next to me. She notices I'm awake and places a hand on mine.
"How are you feeling, Gregor?"
I blink a few times, uneasy for some reason, and realize that I'm dizzy and a little weak. Am I sick?
"I'm okay, I think. What happen—"
They are here. I remember the voice and I sit up straight with panic. "Luxa what happened? Is everyone okay? Did the—the scuttlers attack? Are the—"
"It's alright, it's alright, Gregor!" Luxa gently pushes me back down into the bed. "Everything is fine. You need to rest. You woke with a fever last night and fell and hit your head. We brought you here and Howard gave you some medicine to help your fever, but he says you should rest for a few days."
"But, Luxa, the scuttlers..."
"Gregor, you shouldn't worry, it will only wear you out. There are still a few guards patrolling the Waterway, do not worry. Everything is fine."
I relax just a little, letting my body sink into the mattress. The relief from loosening just those few muscles is immense. Only then do I realize how weak I feel, and how much my limbs ache. My head is pounding too, and I can tell where the bump is on my head without needing to feel for it—it's throbbing more than every other part of me. But something else doesn't feel right. Something is just a little off.
"Luxa... Where did the scuttlers attack? Was there a battle?"
Luxa looks at me for a moment then lets out a small sigh. "No, Gregor. There have been no scuttler sightings from here to the jungle to the Firelands. Not by human, crawler, nibbler, or gnawer. The scuttlers are not here at all."
I take a moment to let her words sink in. During that time all I can see is the pity in Luxa's eyes that she tries and fails to hide.
My vision... was wrong?