I slowly exhale and find comfort in reminding myself that this is only a vision. That this tragedy isn’t real and I’ve simply lost my mind.

What happens next only confirms the thought. Closing her eyes, the girl stretches her hands towards the horse. A dark, glowing smoke of some kind spirals from each palm.

My own palms burst with heat as I watch the dark smoke wrap itself around the horse and see its body rise a few inches. The girl braces herself and grimaces as if she feels its weight. The horse now floats…floats in the air until it’s away from the male’s still form. It drops to the ground with a thud, and dirt flies as it scrambles up, shaking its muzzle in distress.

The girl flings herself at the male and holds his face in her hands. He’s so still. But just as I begin to lose hope, the young man gasps.

Praise the gods! He made it! I walk softly on my toes towards the pair. The male stands, disoriented, staring in awe at the girl.

“You saved my life.” His eyes twitch as he takes her entirely in. She’s beautiful and so young. She smiles, and her cheeks blush, but she remains silent.

He steps closer to her. “I am indebted to you. Pray, take me at once to your home so that I can meet your father.”

She tilts her chin up and swallows hard.

“I have no father, sir.”

He shakes his head. “Then to your mother.”

Her mouth tightens. “I have no mother, either, sir,” she replies.

He closes the gap between them. “Your guardian, whomever…”

“It is only me,” she says quietly.

He straightens in shock. “You live out here alone? In these woods?”

She gently nods.

“Then I will gladly assist you home.” He grabs her hands. “Pray, tell me, do you even know who I am?”

She peers up at him through her lashes while her neck and face bloom pink. She shakes her head, and he laughs.

“While I am sure your kindness is not limited to those with titles, it is not a common boy that you saved. I am Prince Novak of Verdana, and I am in your debt.”

An unintelligible sound escapes her, and she retreats a few steps. My mouth is agape. From a lifetime of gazing at the portraits on our castle walls, I know he speaks the truth. That is Novak, again, albeit the younger version.

The first vision; now this one. What is this?

“Your Highness,” she says and curtsies. “I had no idea.”

“Please, rise,” he protests. “It is I who should bow to you.” Her eyes flare, and she giggles.

With an answering chuckle, he asks, “How can I repay you?”

I listen as they go back and forth. She insists that his being alive is payment enough. He insists that he must reward her act.