I lift my head through my sobs only to see the guards’ and the man’s legs stride past me. I blink rapidly and fear I have no sanity left. I watch the guards join others at the castle entrance. They stand in a wide formation as the male and his visitor greet each other. The guest is dressed in the pine green of Baelliles’ people, and he kisses the cheeks of the male in blue. Have I gone completely mad?

“It is a boy, indeed! The gods have truly shown me favor on this day.”

“And Adelaide?” The visitor queries, slapping the other on the back.

The male in blue laughs and joins in a hearty embrace. “Perfectly fine. Beautiful as ever. Although, I don’t have to tell you that, do I, Seraph?”

“Seraph,” I mouth silently, although I can’t believe my own words.

“Still the same old mule, aren’t you, Novak? Regardless, you won her fair and square, so I cannot mock you too much for it,” Seraph laughs.

“Novak!” I shout, realizing why his face is so familiar. I slap my hand over my mouth and face the floor again, terrified the guards will restrain me. But no one moves. No one hears me. Can they not even see me?

I slowly rise and walk towards the men, still laughing and chatting. I wave my hands by their faces. No response. When I reach my hand to grab Novak’s arm, it passes straight through.

Ghosts?

A scream rises in my throat, but my vision distorts. The castle’s entryway pulls and stretches, and the image spins, all I can see being wrung out like a wet cloth over a basin. My hair flies out of control, though there is no actual force of wind to cause it to do so. I fall through the coiled reality until I finally land somewhere else. There are trees everywhere. Perhaps I’m back in the Florian Wood?

An eerie, heavy silence hangs around me, and a thick mist cloaks the forest floor. The trees are dark; their dense, almost black canopy closes out any chance of sunlight spilling in. It feels…haunted.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I shudder at the ominous energy surrounding me. I scan in every direction for some semblance of life. More silence. A twig snaps close by, and I hurl myself towards the base of a tree. I curl behind its mass and try to stifle my heavy breathing. I hear a female voice, fragile and frightened. I peek and see a young maiden, no more than sixteen, who looks terrified.

Her face is soiled from dried tears and dirt; sticks and leaves tangle her long reddish-blonde hair. “Please! Anyone? Can anyone tell me where I am?” She cries into the void.

My heart thuds. She’s so much like me. Alone, afraid, and confused beyond belief. Still hugging the tree, I rise and prepare to face her.