You walk forward and the dream you had been having dissolves into a clear and infinite sky spreading over an endless garden. Dream, the author of your tale, sits on a bench amid rows of collossal flowers. "Hello?" you offer.
"Come," he says, "Sit with me." You do as he says. You not even sure if you have the ability to decline his offer while you're here. "My family is here today. They all came to see you."
"Why me?" you ask.
"Because you came to see me," is the cryptic reply. "Not many can do that. Let me ask, how many times did you die getting here?"
"," you tell him. You rememeber every death clearly. You assume everybody must remember the times they've died clearly.
"That be enough to get started," he says. "Well, they're waiting for you."
"Where are they?"
Dream says, "They're here, if you're ready to talk to them. Don't explore; it's not safe here for you." With that, he turns to giant raven and flies away.