Miranda wakes from a vivid dream. A BLUE sun? She can still feel the beads of red sweat. Weird! Oh well, time to get the kids to school.
The Elf-Lord slumbers as his dream deepens; he picks up car keys and ushers three whining children out of a door. “Who are you really?” asks his higher-self, connected to him by the merest silver thread.
“All of us,” he whispers.