Snippet #2650536

Antius Geminus was never one to ignore dreams or visions. Considering that he had lived and breathed magic for most of his own life, that wouldn't come as a surprise to most people. Mages did not have to believe in deities necessarily, but the fact that they shaped and were shaped by an energy source mundane people could scarcely understand meant that most mages were inclined to believe in something. That wasn't to say that there weren't mages who were strictly materialists with magic just another part of the natural world to be studied, but those types of Mages did not usually receive visions. Antius didn't think he was the type either.

He frowned as he entered the Mess Hall, scroll in hand. A few other gladiators nodded at him, but he paid them no heed, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care about social niceties at the moment. The dream had been so real. Every person in that tavern had different features, features that corresponded with reality. His dreams were often hazy and disconnected from the real world. He certainly did not dream up the smells of cheap ale and piss. Pretty women in distress on the other hand...

He shook his head. Focus, Antius. This was a real experience.

It was a pity he did not have access to the Academy anymore. He would have more resources than single scroll restating everything he knew about visions in the first place.

"There is a source and it's best not to ignore it. Right..." he murmured with a sigh. He folded up the scroll in frustration, "It's not as though the Emperor and the Senate will let me walk out of here alive, no matter how many fights I win."