Such thoughts filled me and nigh overwhelmed me as I made my way to the edge of the ruins, beneath the light of the stars. My robes dragged on the ground, and I leaned heavily upon my staff, and all was not well with the world.

And as I stood at the edge of the ruins I paused, fearful, for it seemed to me that I had been here long ago, and that something terrible had happened to me. I did not wish to enter, for I feared greatly some awful doom that might await me. Still, many miles had I traveled, and this was where my journey led me. Choices there are in dreams a-plenty, but I was neither willing nor able to turn aside now.

So I entered into the ruins, hopeful and afraid. Vines and moss obscured the great stones, and birds nested in the remnants of the pillars. I wandered through, knowing that this place figured in my quest, and lost in thought about the meaning of the vague remembrances that filled me.

So it was that I came to the center of the ruins, where a great stone platform was supported by stout pillars. And there, beneath the pillars, a-glitter in the starlight, coiled the dragon.

I knew his name of old, and I was sore afraid. Still, many miles had I traveled, and this was where my journey led me. Choices there are in dreams a-plenty, but I was neither willing nor able to turn aside now.

I limped forward, leaning on my staff, and the dragon opened his eyes and stared at me, and in his gaze I saw a great weariness and frustration.

The dragon spoke, and his voice was unfamiliar, but in the slant of his eyes and the curl of his lip there was something I remembered from far away and long ago.

"Sharp is the tooth of Aord," said he, "and long the claw."

"Sharper still the pain of complacency," I replied. "I come seeking passage to the Chapel, and the treasures which it holds."

"The Chapel?" Spoke the dragon. "Perilous is the road. Sharp is the tooth of Aord, and long the claw. The breath of a dragon burns like death itself."

"Death by fire," I replied, "or death by dissolution. I know not which is worse, but I come seeking passage to the Chapel, and the treasures which it holds."

"I know you," said the dragon. "I have met you when your name was Galen, and when you were Sigurd, and again when you were Arthur. Why do you come again?"

"These names mean nothing to me Dragon," I said. "I do what I must: I come seeking passage to the Chapel, and the treasures which it holds. Choices there are in dreams a-plenty, but I am neither willing nor able to turn aside now. My quest has brought me to you. Will you help me?"

The dragon raised its great head and looked down upon me. Its eyes were great and empty, and oh-so very familiar.

"No," the dragon said.

And it opened its mouth wide, and white fire poured out like light, and I felt that I stared into the sun itself. And the flames drenched me as though they were liquid, and though I died I felt no pain, no, none. As my body burned I felt no agony, but only weariness and resignation.

I found that death does not burn. It smothers, like its brother, sleep.

And so I died, or slept.