In the year of our LORD 2031 it was Napoleon Pelcham, head of the family, whom had a vision. For three nights he knew no peace in his dreams. Each night he had the same sorted tale unlay itself behind his closed eyes. Each time he woke amid screams that were his own. These terrors of the dark set him, some had thought, upon an unstable course. And sent his family upon treks that continue to this day. The dream was recorded by his friend Monsignor Horace Lamb as follows.

He (Napoleon) was standing upon a hilltop. The time was evening and the wind was blowing from the setting sun, cold and biting. Tick gray clouds boiled before him, dust stung his face and eyes. The land was hard and dry before him and little grew. An evil red light gave it the look of Dante’s horrid dreams.

He turned away from this visage, as he turned to his right he saw his youngest son Erwin standing tall facing the light of the sun. He was dressed in thick furs tears streamed from his face. He would look back at his father and then smile and walk down into the valley before him. His father looked long and hard after his son whom would vanish into the cold light of the north. After a time the sky would light with fire. It danced with many hues some faint some bright. Then from the distance would return his son. He carried in his arms salt and fish and many things made of copper. Behind him followed a woman large with child, and with her were many more children. The children walked in three files. One, the left most wore long faces and white robes and as they approached they turned and marched into the sad lands to the west. And the ground swallowed them up as they passed. But as each passed into the parched earth a beam of light flashed like lightning. Each beam though straight started neither in the sky, or on the ground. The light came and passed with out sound. The next line walked past him some would smile others would show no emotion they would pass behind him not seen again. The third and right most line of children would turn east. As he watched them he saw his middle son Fredrick. As each child passed Fredric would real as if struck. The children passed in great numbers and after a long time Fredric fell to the ground. As they passed his fallen form each child would take a powerful blow. Some fell alongside Fredrick others reeled and continued to the east. Then Fredrick rose up and stood his ground for a long time. Tears flooded the eyes that watched until he faced away to the south. In the south stood William oldest of his sons. He watched the lands to the west with the rolling red light and dark billowing gray sky’s. Anger showed upon his face. His hands clenched and opened. Hatred would gleam in his eyes, lips would curl and teeth would gnash. On the ground lay a sword long and bright of find metal it’s hilt bound in leather, the blade humming to be set free, and set to its hard work. Beside it lay the word of the LORD. In a thick book bound also of leather. Light shined on the book and the red light was washed away from it. With terror he (Napoleon) watched his eldest reach for the sword. Hatred pored from his skin, his eyes, and lips. And as his hand neared the blade the light on the book of the LORD would thin and the red would close toward it. Each night of three he called to his son to turn away from the sword, and he would. He would take up the book. And bound away to the south with it. The light would stay upon the word. At each leap his son landed upon solid rock. And where he would land a tower would rise. Tall and in the white light. The light would stay even when he left that place and landed to raise a tower far off. The light would shine in many spots to the south and then to the west.

Soon the light grew and the red and Grey of the west dimished. Then as he watched the ground would shook and many hands would grab at him from the ground, reaching up from it. He ran from the hands but to the North and East they were many. He fled from the west and ran to the towers of the south. They would stand firm for a time then the red light would press upon them. Some towers would hold, others would dimish. Some even fell. He ran from the red light until he came to a wall, the wall was wider than a man could throw a stone, it was dark and gray and slick. The red light was against the wall. But from the west he saw a light of white at a pillar. He climbed the wall and ran across the top of it, the top was wet with mud and stuck to his shoes and hands. Rocks would rise up from the mud to trip him but he crossed the wall. He came to a place he could leap to the pillar. When he did he woke.

Three nights did this dream come. This is the record of it.