In the far future, Roya foresaw horrible suffering, chaos, and terror. Her lips moved, but she was unaware if she spoke the words aloud. Her hands stretched before her, grasping thin air, she fought unseen daemons, yet still searching for something beyond her grasp.

Duncan trembled as he studies her eyes, dark with bewilderment and as blank as those of a somnambulist.

Roya gasped. Present again.

“We can prevent it all. But first, we must take the castle.”

...