Nostor, the head of memory, wove dreams of the past, of the mother he had lost, of the home that no longer existed, of the voices that once called his name. Veyos, the head of the future, spun visions of what could be, of the skies he would conquer. of he lands he would discover, of the stories he would live. But between them, Omenis never moved. He saw everything. He lived nothing. Dreams became his prison. Omenis became trapped in the world of his minds.