I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the canopy above, the sheer curtains dancing with the breeze from the open window. A sigh escaped my lips as the visions of my future I had seen earlier returned, uninvited and relentless, like shadows creeping in the corners of my mind.
My temples throbbed with a dull ache, the kind born not from illness but from too much thinking, too much feeling. I pressed my hand against my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut in hope that the images would vanish.
I did not understand.
Were those all… my deaths?
The possibilities had flooded into my head like a dam breaking, too many to count, too many to bear. Falling off a cliff, drowning in the lake, suffocating in smoke, poisoned tea, getting my head cut. Each one was me, each one feels to real in a way that I felt the pain in every death.
Was this my future?
How could I possibly avoid something like this when every path I take ends in tragedy?
Maybe… maybe it really was time to leave the castle.
