"Not even remotely similar," Sarkan begins. He clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Dreams are nothing, just products of the imagination." His tone is void of derision; it is simply a fact of the reality he once knew. "Of course there are all sorts of stories trumpeted by the troubadours about fanciful witches that divine the future through their dreams, but it's all nonsense. Anyone can claim after the fact that they dreamed up an event before it happened. There's no evidence, and they don't have to prove it. It doesn't help that most of these snake-oil peddlers are predisposed with silver tongues, and speak in vague terms so anything can be interpreted as an accurate prediction. Simple-minded, ignorant idiots fall for it every time."

Myr may be able to detect the smallest of chuckles.

"You can imagine the challenge in wrapping my head around true demon dreams."