Despite staying in his natural form overnight after meeting with the Ringmaster, Alexandru had had another horrifyingly vivid dream. The same Cirque member was a part of the vision, but the terror had shifted to something far too close to home. He'd barely fallen asleep when he'd found himself looking through steel bars, bars carved with runes that prevented him from bending or tearing them out. All his strength was for nothing. Shackles encircled both ankles and he was nude in his mortal form. On his skin were demonic words and runes painted in blood, causing him agonizing pain, a pain that was increased ten-fold when hot pokers were shoved through the bars into his body. He raged and struggled, trying to shift into his natural form, but the shift never came. Even though he knew it was a nightmare, knew that he could not truly be harmed, the logic and reason had no place in his mind. Each prod was unbelievably painful and his tormentors laughed at his suffering.
Alexandru only woke when his dream-self lay on the cold floor of the cage, bleeding and broken, hopeless and helpless. Only then when he felt his life slipping away, did Alexandru wake. It was then that he knew he would leave the Cirque the following night, leave and fly to Boston where he could take light on an older cathedral. He put in a normal evening of 'work', contemplating his options. So caught up in his thoughts, Alex could not even enjoy the children who took delight in his form. When the Cirque closed, Alex returned to his trailer to dress before seeking out a cup of coffee that could help keep him awake.
He turned a corner and almost barreled right into a young, blonde woman. It was a miracle he hadn't spilled his hot coffee all over her and he said a silent thanks for that. As it was, he was blocking her path. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there," he apologized with a weak smile.