Aisling would have liked a short, solitary walk, but she truly felt weak. She was dizzy, her ears were ringing, and her temples throbbed dully.

  "Something really slammed Mirael into the ground," she thought in alarm. She was grateful that her mother had sent her to her room. Lady Lívia didn't even have to make excuses to the guests. If someone failed to appear at a gathering, there was always a reason.

  From the Blue Room, she went straight to the dressing room, but this time she didn't ask about her appearance-she checked on her health.

  "Concussion," came the diagnosis.

  Aisling placed her hand over the aura of her own exact replica. She could feel all her pain gradually and evenly fading away. Now that the pain no longer distracted her, she could focus on the terrifying realization: something-something from that other world, from the Time Tree-not only slipped through into her reality on a mental or imaginary level but physically as well.

  "I could have died," she acknowledged.

  She had never been in mortal danger before. Accidents happened occasionally, mostly to children while playing, but there was always a holo nearby to heal the injured in an instant. She had never truly known the feeling of danger. Now, the fear of the unknown crept insidiously into her mind.

  "How could this have happened?" she agonized. "Yes, the members of the Twelve were capable of traveling across the branches of time, wherever they pleased, but..."

  She was still standing in the middle of her dressing room, facing her own exact copy. Both of them were wringing their hands in despair. She nearly laughed when she looked at her double and realized just how miserable and helpless she appeared.

  "...but whatever happened, however it happened, we will face it," she decided resolutely.

  Gathering up the shreds of her pride, which had been shattered by fear, she felt strong again. Stronger than before. Despite that, she was glad she wasn't alone with her troubles. Rhys would believe her. Rhys would help her figure everything out. Now, they had to. Even if, at the moment, they had no idea what needed to be solved.

  When she returned to her room, she didn't even glance at the book lying on her living room table. Now, fully recovered and bolstered by her swift victory over her own self-pity, she resolutely opened that ancient book again.

  "I'll read everything again. Maybe I overlooked a connection," she thought defiantly.

  She didn't even flinch when Nyx, the cat, brushed against her ankle. It wasn't the first time the feline had stealthily followed her in the dim light without her noticing.

  Nyx meowed softly, demanding food. Aisling only now realized that she, too, hadn't eaten since lunch. She returned to the dressing room and came back with a serving of cat food and a plate of cheese pastries, already changed into her light purple pajamas. She had no intention of going down to the others.

  "My mother might be right-perhaps I should have studied the Twelve more. The Twelve are the key."

  After she had eaten and let the cat out of her quarters, she began rereading everything about the distant past-a world filled with darkness, fear, sorrow, and evil. This time, she didn't even attempt to connect with her dream-self.

  Aisling always took great care of her books; she never wrote or drew in them. Unlike Lady Lívia when she was a child. Thirty years ago, little Lívia, with her unpolished, childish handwriting, had copied a passage from a fairy tale onto the very first page of the book-one she would later read to her daughter countless times.

  "In those times, when light still battled darkness, dawn and dusk came into existence. The light could never fully vanquish the dark, nor could the dark conquer the light. Whenever darkness seemed to prevail, a new dark champion arose from the dusk, and whenever light seemed victorious, a new bright champion emerged from the dawn. The struggle continued endlessly until the children of dusk and dawn began to conspire."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  On the last page, she had inscribed the lesson of the history book: "Truly, this was a world of suffering."

  Aisling thought her mother couldn't have chosen a better frame for the history book. If she had to write in it, little Lívia had captured the essence of the distant past well. She was relieved that all the horrors that defined that era were now unimaginable in her time. It was completely absurd, the things people had done to each other!

  Back then, the Romans, Gauls, Celts, Scythians, and Carthaginians lived in separate territories and often waged war against one another. After the Gauls defeated Julius Caesar in a brutal battle, they advanced and conquered Rome. Later, they attempted to form peaceful alliances with other nations. Three hundred years passed, yet conflicts persisted. Then, a new empire flourished, one that lasted sixteen hundred years. The feuds seemed to have ended. Nineteen hundred years after the Gauls' victory, the greatest war of all took place-Drakthor's War. It was the last war in history.

  After an hour and a half of reading, she set the book down, slightly disappointed. She was getting sleepy but still hadn't found anything interesting about the Twelve. She quickly checked that she had locked the door after letting Nyx out and activated the holo-block for her quarters. Then, yawning once or twice, she headed to her bedroom.

  She was on the verge of sleep when a fragment of a melody drifted in through her open window. Not just into her room-but into her memory as well. She closed her eyes and, without fear, let the melody guide her soul freely. In another place, in another time, she had heard this song before.

  "Just one more day. I'll stay just one more," Mirael thought every day. Kaelen also appeared beneath the castle day after day. The song was calling to Mirael.

  "Hurry! Get it and come!"

  Mirael had long known what and where she needed to find it, yet every day, she lingered just a little longer. She stood by her window. From here, she couldn't see Kaelen. Beyond the valley, a small hill obscured the bridge. That was where she was supposed to meet Kaelen-by the little oak tree. At dusk. Perhaps tomorrow. She wiped away a single tear from the corner of her eye. She could feel someone watching her in silence.

  Rhys's performance had ended. Aisling now knew exactly what she had done back then, but she still couldn't remember why she had needed to obtain that object.

  "If only I knew that too," she sighed before falling asleep.

  She didn't drift or gradually slip into sleep-she plummeted into it as if someone had shoved or dragged her through.

  Her head throbbed again.

  "One, two, three," she counted her own heartbeat, which she could feel pulsing throughout her entire body. She knew her pulse was elevated due to the pain. She was so weak that she couldn't even move.

  "One, two, three," she tried to focus on reality by counting. She didn't want to lose consciousness again.

  She could feel that she was being transported somewhere. With great difficulty, she forced her eyes open. She was lying on a carriage seat. Outside, the landscape looked as if a tornado had swept through.

  "Kaelen," she thought of the boy. She had seen something strike him as well. She had seen him fall into the river.

  She closed her eyes.

  "One, two..."

  Aisling woke as suddenly as if someone had shoved her back into consciousness. She was awake, listening in alarm to the frantic beating of her own heart. She desperately wished that at least Nyx, the cat, had been there with her.

  She knew she hadn't spent just a few minutes in the dream.

  Outside, dawn was breaking.