You dream of dragons: Dragons filling the sky, moving in great swarms of color; hundreds of them, thousands of them, so many they blot out the sun. Looking up you long to soar, and with a “Woop!” you launch yourself into the air, your great wings spreading out, muscles working like pistons to move the air beneath you. And you climb up, up to the swarm, moving faster and faster as you soar, the wind whipping your face and stinging your eyes, until with a final push of your mighty wings your burst through the top of the swarm, past dragons of all color and hue, and still you climb, corkscrewing even higher, high and away, your kin falling away behind you, and you exult in your complete and utter freedom.
Now your perspective shifts, and instead of pushing straight up into the atmosphere with a lurch in your stomach you realize you are diving, plummeting to the earth; you try to pull up but your wings are no longer your own, pinned to your side. The air screams in your ears as you pick up speed, and you taste panic rising in your gorge as you streak towards the ground. Just as you are about to impact, the earth opens in a horrible tear, a gaping maw of blackness, of chaotic, swirling energy, and with a whoosh you fall straight through.