there was a lot of sword fighting and flying bats and fire.

and root beer, of course.

oh, a mini elevator i almost got stuck on. but i didnt.

at the end of the dream, when everything was at the most hectic and it came down to do or die, my partner told me not to worry, and then attracted all the bats to him.

i watched for a moment while his sword flowed around, protecting him, then as he pulled out another, smaller sword.

the head enemy rushed up to me, so i started fighting him. got sliced. my sword got thrown out of reach. and then my partner, who was about to die, kicked his sword to me.

the enemy, who saw this, dropped to his knees and began to cry.

i picked the sword up, slid it right into his chest, a little left of the breastbone. turned around and ran to the partner.

he was still standing, but just barely. and as i got there he fell back and slid to the floor.

i have this habit, in dreams, to never actually be myself. like... my body is never my body, or at least rarely is, or i keep switching between point of views, like at one minute im this character, the next moment im that character. or sometimes im not even a character, im just sort of watching with no body. like a camera.

and in this dream i did that, right at the end. i switched people. i became the enemy, who had stood, sword and all, and walked over to my partner.

because, see, we had all been a trio. and the best one of us had been the partner. such a damn good guy with the strongest values and beliefs and everything with him was right, you know?

and thats why, earlier, the enemy had fallen to his knees. because he realized the partner was about to die.

so, yeah, i became the enemy, and the other person i had been took off running. i think it was to find some herbs, or something that could bring the partner back to full life.

and as i knelt next to the partner, as the enemy, i felt what the enemy was feeling.

and it wasnt evil or anything. it just was.

then i woke up.