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“I’m lost. Could you tell me the way out?” said the voice from behind. He was about to answer, but he swiftly realized there were more people behind him. A boy, about his age, was answering who had apparently asked the question. Someone else stood nearby. One wore strange clothing, but the others were covered in more familiar garb.

Where in Jolara could I be? This must be a dream, or maybe a vision. Or it might be one of Josiah’s pranks. That’s equally likely.

Luke carefully held out his sword. He was in no hurry to use it, but was prepared to meet enemies of the King. He coughed quietly, and all attention came to him. The man who had spoken seemed to be analyzing him, sizing up his ability. The front most one showed uncertainty. Then, he bowed at Luke’s feet.

“My deepest apologies if our conversing has awoken you, your… Highness…?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t wake me up. And please —please, stand. Save your bows for the One True King.” The man gave Luke an odd expression and stood. “My name is Luke, anyways. Prince Luke.” He stopped and stared at the ground for a moment, then looked back up. “Do…do any of you know where we are? Back there—” Luke pointed vaguely in the direction he came from with his sword, “—is something that looks exactly like my room back home, but this is, obviously, not my home.”