As if in a dream, I found myself drifting upwards
Floating above the tor where we had earlier been sitting smoking
And discussing the impossibility of astral flight
And all the mystique that surrounds it
In the distance I swear I could hear the calling of the clan!
But how could this be possible?
Had I not earlier seen the destruction of Yoon?
Was I not nearly slain, along with the others?
Should this sound give me hope?
Perhaps all is not lost, there may still be hope,
For what was after all, the oldest of the great clans of the old order...
Or was the sound that I heard
Just my reluctance to believe in the destruction of my homeland?
Of my fathers' homeland, and their fathers' in turn before them?
Or was it all merely a dream?