Milo had always had nightmares.

Since he could remember, these rather violent dreams woke him up at odd hours, with the odd feeling it left after.

That night, he dreamt he was on a ship, from the continent to an island. For once, he was unafraid of the water around him. He was standing next to a young girl and her mother. The girl was singing a song he recognized as being used to tell a tale of a girl who loved the sea.

"Is that your favorite tale?" He asked the girl.

"Yes its my favorite ever! What is yours?"

"I'm quite older than you... have you heard of the Tale of Moon?"

She nodded. "I was the main character for that school play."

The mother smiled. "Oh you don't want to know my favorite, it will make me seem very old."

The three chuckled. The boat had arrived, and they made their way from the docks to....

He wasn't quite sure where.

Then he heard the first gunshot.

Milo hid behind a barrel, instructing the panicked people around him to do the same. But some didn't listen. 

He heard more shots, and heard people fall.

He followed people back to the docks, making sure the mother and daughter were close by.

Another closer shot. "He shot ...!"

He didn't remember the name.

Milo woke up then, hoping the mother and daughter were alright before realizing it was all in his mind. He swore as the after-feeling settled in.

His entire body tingled as if he had been tense for hours, his hands were curled up tight enough for his nails to mark his palms. Every place he had a small scratch hurt a little. He loosened his fingers from being in a tight fist. Tight enough for his nails to have cut through his palms, pooling warm blood in his hands, yet again. His mother had taught him a simple healing spell for when that happened.

Watching his skin close after casting it was always oddly fascinating. It was only a shame he couldn't quite figure out the spell to remove the bloodstains.

He checked the time: 5:30 in the morning.

Milo waited for those uncomfortable symptoms to subside before curling back up to sleep. He gasped awake when a thought entered his mind - he didn't want to go back.

He wasn't sure what was worse, - the panic or the lingering tingles. Maybe it was the fact that he coudn't remember falling asleep.

It took time for him to fall asleep again, as he wondered how the story seared into his mind may have ended.

No one ever said he wasn't morbidly curious.