Yelena sleeps. The drugs and alcohol she had poured into her body needed to be given the time to work their way out of her system. She would later have to deal with any long-term effects of the drugs and try to wean herself away from them, but for now it was enough to simply let them finish coursing through her body. So Yelena sleeps. At some point the dreams come. Most simply flit through her mind and are gone before they can be imprinted on her memory, but one stays.
A field of green grass, manicured and well tended. Yelena is sitting on the grass. Looking about, she notices that the grass is a quiet, open glen amid a sea of trees that surrounds it. The sun is shining and a cool breeze ruffles her dress and hair. She is comfortable here and, as is often the way with dreams, does not even really wonder how she came to be here. It just is. Movement. She is aware of movement in the trees at the edge of the glen and then a young human girl steps onto her small spot of grass. The girl is picking some of the flowers that have appeared and is looking at the ground as if seeking a special type of flower. The girl stops suddenly and looks up at Yelena, smiling. She speaks in the somewhat peculiar Russian dialect common to the myriad of small villages and towns that dot the Siberian landscape. "I am first today, but not last." As she turns to fully face Yelena, the girl exposes the entirety of her face and Yelena sees the disfiguring mark high on the left temple that is a bullet entry wound. "I have been six years old for fifty-two years. Since you sent one of your bullets into my head and killed me. I was playing with my brother in our yard. He should be coming along shortly. Ah, here is he." A small boy of perhaps four or five steps out of the trees. His chest is marred by a huge rending of flesh that indicates an exit wound. The entry point for the bullet would have been the boy's back. There is additional movement in the trees as more people step into the glen and move toward Yelena.
Soon there is a circle of dead and mangled bodies standing about her as the bodies of those she has slain stream from the forest. All are speaking at once of how their lives were cut short by the Keeb in the middle of the circle. And, even though they were all talking at once, Yelena could make out each voice as it challenged, judged, and condemned her. The first little girl will break the circle and step forward, lifting her arms and saying, "You are remembered and unforgiven. You will never be free of us, never be at peace. You are doomed to destroy. You will bring about the deaths of those you care about as you step through your life. You cannot do otherwise."
There is movement in the throng surrounding Yelena and she sees the crowd parting, the bodies moving apart as if to avoid touching whatever is making its way toward her. The edge of the circle twists and a young Keeb girl steps into the glen, moving to stand near the first girl. Yelena sees the neat entry wounds in the Elven girl's chest over where her heart would have been. Although she never really got a good look at her at the time, Yelena knows this to be the shade of the mage she had killed in the Barrens. The girl says, "No. There is redemption. This assassin took my life and in doing so spared others from the predatory thing I had become. For that she has earned relief from some of you." The Keeb moves and touches several of the gathered shades, and each one she touches takes on the look of someone released from a chore. Their faces grow calm and the hate fades from their eyes and suddenly they are gone. The vacancies are quickly filled from the ranks of those behind them and the small girl in the center of the circle with Yelena snarls. "Never!!! She will never be free and you are not welcome here."
The girl will focus an outpouring of hatred at the young Keeb who motions with her hand, saying. "I am still a mage, powerful even into death. By yourself you have no power to defeat me. I say this woman has the ability to heal herself and it is so. You have simply been hiding that from her because of your hatred." Looking at Yelena, she adds, "I cannot remain her long. The fury of those who hate you for their untimely end at your hand is too great even for me. You can clear the field of death if you want, but the trip will be arduous and long, for there are many deaths to atone for. Or you can live your extremely long life in torment, always afraid to sleep, lost in the taking of innocent lives."
The first girl channels pure hatred into a ball-like energy mass and hurls it at the Keeb, and others begin to follow her lead, slinging bolts of hatred and fury at the girl. Most bounce harmlessly off whatever shield the girl has constructed about herself, but the sheer amount of hate directed at her eventually takes its toll on even that strength. The girl smiles at Yelena one more time. She mouths a silent "thank you" and vanishes. The first girl turns to Yelena, "You will never be able to be free of us. Never. Now, what was I going to do? Oh yes, I remember." The girl smiles cruelly and reaches out a hand to touch Yelena. The touch releases pain and horror onto Yelena and as more from the circle reach out to touch her, she can no longer hold back the screams of primal anguish that escape her lips.
She wakes, screaming at the horrors she has created. She is sitting up in her narrow bed in the room she shares with her friend. The sheet is gathered about her waist, exposing her upper body, but she does not notice. The shades of her victims laugh as they torture her. One scream leads to another as Yelena tries to force them away, knowing that they will fade if she can but fully rouse from her sleep.