Eleven
In my dream I’m in a park fighting a goblin. It’s the same assignment I went on a few weeks ago, but the weather is different. Lightning splits the sky into jagged pieces, and deafening thunder causes the ground to shudder. Wind whips strands of hair across my face as I s***h at the goblin with my sword. A trail of sparks follows the blade. I know I’m supposed to kill him with the sword—I remember that happening—but for some reason, I decide to do something different now.
I let go of the sword, and it vanishes. Flames begin to dance and flicker across my open palms. They shouldn’t burn me, because they’re my flames, but they do. I run at the goblin, screaming both in anger and because of the pain in my hands. I wrap my burning fingers around the goblin’s neck. He’s strong and shou
