Damon

I drifted in and out of consciousness, dreaming dreams that were incoherent and jumbled. In some, I stood in front of a lone castle with the sword I had, and in others, I was a fisherman.

All the dreams made no sense to me, but they had one unifying factor: the mask. The mask was always there, watching me, judging me, waiting to see if I would fall. But I didn't, or at least, I don't think I did.

Finally, tired of the endless cycle of sleep and waking, my eyes snapped open. "I think it's time we need to talk," Frank said beside me. "I couldn't agree more,"...