A Mysterious Warning

The dream began as a misty haze that clings to memory even after waking. Eogan stood in an ancient forest, the kind spoken of in old tales, where trees were said to breathe with life and the air hummed with unseen power. A pale crescent moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie, silver glow over the scene.

In the distance, he saw a figure unmistakably Fergus Mor, infamous in history for his ambition to conquer the world, standing as a terrifying figure. He had commanded an army of monsters, spreading fear and destruction wherever he went. The being before Eogan was a fey lord of untamed power and cruel intent. Fergus's hands glowed with a radiant green light, but the energy he wielded crackled with raw fury, a destructive force that seemed to hunger for chaos. His face was sharp, almost feral, and his eyes burned with an intensity that sent a chill down Eogan's spine. Beside him prowled a massive Fenrir wolf, its fur a shimmering silver streaked with veins of gold. The wolf's eyes were equally merciless, its movements a perfect blend of grace and lethal intent.

They stood in the center of a grove where a massive tree towered above all others. Its roots pulsed with an ethereal light, and its leaves whispered in a language Eogan could not comprehend. The grove was alive with movement. Shadowy creatures slithered at the edges of the light, their forms indistinct but menacing. Fergus raised his hands, and waves of fey magic surged outward, not in defense but as a devastating force. The magic twisted and burned, consuming everything it touched, leaving nothing but scorched earth in its wake. The Fenrir wolf leaped alongside him, its jaws snapping and its body glowing faintly with the same violent energy as Fergus's.

Eogan wanted to call out, to demand answers, but his voice failed him. His feet were also rooted to the ground as if the glowing tree held him captive. Then, Fergus Mor turned toward him. His shining eyes locked onto Eogan's, and his lips moved, forming words in a lilting, melodic language. Though Eogan did not understand the fey tongue, the meaning came to him as if whispered by the wind: Be careful. There is danger approaching.

Before Eogan could respond, the scene shifted. The forest dimmed, and the crescent moon turned blood-red. A horrific roar shook the air, and Eogan caught a fleeting vision of the Academy, its proud towers overrun by monstrous forms. Flames licked at the walls, and screams echoed in the night.

He woke with a start, his heart pounding and his breath ragged. The faint light of dawn filtered through his window, but the dream's vivid images remained etched in his mind: Fergus Mor, the Fenrir wolf, the glowing tree, the crescent moon, and the vision of destruction. Each detail felt significant, though he could not yet understand why.

Eogan sat at the edge of his bed, trying to steady his thoughts. The dream had been unlike anything he'd experienced before. It felt less like a creation of his mind and more like a message. But from whom? And why?

He dressed quickly, determined to use his free period between morning classes to search for answers. The library was vast, its shelves towering and filled with volumes both ancient and new. The scent of aged parchment and leather filled the air, a comforting contrast to the unease still clinging to him.

He began his search in the section dedicated to folklore and fey history. Fergus Mor's tales were well-documented, but Eogan wasn't looking for his usual exploits. He scanned the spines for anything referencing fey magic, Fenrir wolves, glowing trees, or crescent moons. After what felt like hours, he found a slender volume titled Whispers of the Fey. The book was worn, its cover faded, but it seemed promising.

Eogan settled into a corner and began to read. The text was dense, filled with descriptions of fey creatures and their realms. One passage caught his attention:

The crescent moon is often seen as a harbinger of change, a symbol of the transition between light and darkness. In fey lore, it is said to guide lost souls to hidden truths.

Another passage described the Tree of Lumina, a mythical tree that is said to connect the mortal world with the fey realm. Its glowing roots were believed to carry the essence of life itself, and it was often guarded by powerful beings.

Eogan's pulse quickened as he read. The symbols in his dream weren't random. They had meaning, and they were tied to the fey. But why had he dreamed of them now? And what did the vision of the Academy's destruction mean?

He closed the book, his mind spinning with questions. He needed more information, but the answers wouldn't come from books alone. Perhaps Professor Faelan would know something, though the thought of discussing such a strange topic with the stern academic made Eogan hesitate. Still, he resolved to bring it up if the opportunity arose.

At lunchtime, Eogan joined Lorcan in the bustling cafeteria. The clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation filled the room, but Eogan barely noticed. His mind was still on the dream and the discoveries he'd made that morning.

"You're quiet today," Lorcan observed as he sat down across from Eogan, a plate of steaming stew in hand. "Still thinking about that dream?"

Eogan nodded, poking at his food without much enthusiasm. "I went to the library earlier. Found some things about the symbols in the dream. They're connected to the fey. The crescent moon, the tree, even the wolf—everything points to them."

Lorcan frowned, his usual skepticism giving way to a hint of concern. "You're serious about this."

"I am," Eogan said firmly. "There's more to this than just a dream. I can feel it."

Lorcan hesitated, then sighed. "Well, if you're that convinced, maybe you should talk to someone who knows more about this stuff. Professor Faelan, maybe?"

Eogan nodded slowly. "I was thinking the same thing. I just hope he doesn't dismiss it as nonsense."

Lorcan offered a small smile. "You've got a way of convincing people, Eogan. Just don't let him intimidate you."

For the first time that day, Eogan managed a faint smile in return. "I'll try."

As the two friends finished their meal, Eogan's resolve hardened. The dream, the symbols, and the warning all pointed to something larger. And whatever it was, Eogan knew he couldn't ignore it. His path was about to change, though he could not yet say where it would lead.