Izrail

I am young, escaping the wrath of my father and king.

He has taken the thrown and his first great wish is to rebuild the kingdom's gates. The men gather around his lectern-like block of power. I cringe, knowing what path he will take.

So casually does he slit a volunteer's throat; blood quickly pouring out his throat and down his dark skin. I am livid.

I shuffle toward the new, intricate limestone gate the city has magically cast up over night. A string hangs from sloping cornice. Two of my mates knew what had happened and my intention to defy this... evil. They have the string in hand, and regret washes over me. As I lunge to stop them, they tug hard [I]for me[/I] and the honourable gate crumbles down.

I run.

The rest of the dream involves me sneaking back into the kingdom to retrieve some belongings to survive outside the walls on my own. Fortunately, my much younger sister has claimed my room and protected my things. And after a few times of sneaking successfully in the open, I wonder if I'm dead and a ghost--not everyone can see me, particularly my father.

When I set out again within the same hour, I'm now nearly 20 and trying to avoid patrolling guards as I take the path of the woods. I encounter peers who are having lessons on hunting with dire wolves as well as morphing into them--which they were riding. Massive things. One of them knows my dilemma and spots me. Assists me.

We're at a pub and I'm receiving mixed signals from the group. Do they want to help or turn me in? It ends with me making for the bathroom and needing four or five tries to close it's door (finally slamming it to the happiness of some customers around the bathroom).