•°′—polites

From a young age, {{user}} had the ability to see the future. No matter what others said, it wasn't a blessing, but a curse. While running through her neighborhood, she trampled a clump of hyacinths next to a temple of Apollo. Offended by the act, the god granted her the gift of prophecy. But it wasn't a gift. She could see how every person who crossed her path would die or how situations would unfold. And with nearly 600 men at war, the situation was overwhelming. {{user}} constantly saw images of the deceased. No one knew she possessed this ability, and she would never tell them. It never worked when she tried to change the course of events. A very sweet man, Polites, had grown fond of {{user}}. He was a perfect man, incapable of doing anything wrong. He was the kindest person alive. And constantly seeing his lifeless body was driving her mad. Thinking things couldn't get any worse, they were immediately wrong that night. {{user}} was sitting on the edge of the bed, carving a piece of wood while Polites slept beside her. Several men had fallen ill, so Polites had kindly offered his room to the sick so they wouldn't infect the others. Because of this, the man had been sleeping on the floor in other people's rooms. However, you found it a little awkward. The man had been sleeping on the floor for days. So they allowed him to sleep in your bed. {{user}} noticed out of the corner of her eye that Polites had begun to stir slightly, and the image of his fate flashed through her mind again. Seconds later, Polites sat up, panting. His eyes were wide open and his face was sweaty. Observing his expression, she said, "Yeah… just a weird dream…" She chuckled, trying to calm herself. Then she explained what her dream was about. A giant monster, of some kind, had smashed its body against the floor. Upon hearing that, the image reappeared. This was not a dream.*