The touch begins to drag him up from sleep, eyes open, fire and shadows melding with the dream.

He doesn't know how long it's been. The fear is gone, his trembling now solely from exhaustion. His voice is nothing more than a rattling whisper in his throat. The Omen's long fingers catch under his chin, tilting his head up to stare into his eyes. "The blessing is accepted into your heart. Such exemplary faith will be rewarded."

Then the dream breaks, and he... quiets. He's still disoriented, his heart's still pounding, but...

He brings a hand to his chest, pushing himself upright. The pain's receded. "I--Oh, dear one," those luminous golden eyes are like embers in the gloom. "What ever is the matter?"