Two year old Brooke walked up to her mother, her arms outstretched. "I had a bad seeing," mumbled the child. "We were in another time and we were older and we were different." Slowly Brooke's mother placed her hands against the child's face. She was still too young to know how to guard her thoughts, and so the girl's mother was able to receive the girl's memories as her own. Her eyes opened wide. She must tell her queen; she had finally realized what the portents meant. The cure to their problems wasn't in medicine or in anything they had tried before. In order to save her people, the queen had to make a drastic decision. The woman stumbled as she ran into the queen's bedchamber. "My queen," she said, eyeing the princess sleeping near. "The cure lies in the past."