Not this dream again, she thinks to herself, eyes surveying the usual crowd. The Fentons, her own parents, Frostbite, Dora, Pandora...all ghosts gathered around a casket draped in strange flowers she can't ever recall seeing. The flowers are new. Normally, she sees the black coffin decorated in silver. Now it's hidden by flowers.
It's still a horrible dream, but the flowers seem to soften it a bit.
This time, she isn't beside the gravestone. She's standing beside the casket, a black rose held gently between her fingers. She gives it an experimental squeeze, pressing her fingers down upon the thorns. Blood wells, but no pain follows.
"As you all know, I pledged my love to Danny Fenton in life, and in his death. My feelings will never change," she states clearly, the ghosts around her bowing their heads in respect, "We have a lot to do, and no time for tears."
She swallows a lump in her throat, "Long live the King of Ghosts."
As the words leave her mouth, the world spirals, melting together. In her mind, she can see Danny on his knees, tears falling freely from his blue eyes onto the stone beneath his feet.
"It's all my fault, Sam. It's all my fault. I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"
She tries to call out, to tell him that he doesn't have to apologize, but the words won't leave her lips.
"I love you, Danny," she manages to squeak out, dyeing the world around her pink. Curses, why is it always pink?! She feels as though she's drowning in the color, but it's not frightening at all. It's soft and warm, her feet light as a feather. Danny's vanished.
Where is he?
This question propels her feet forward, through the halls of what resembles a courthouse. It's made of white stone, draped with deep green tapestries and a matching carpet that is plush beneath her feet.
Wait, is this moss?
"You don't think we'd actually have wool from sheep, did you, Sam?"
Danny appears from a doorway, a bright, teasing smile on his face. He's dressed akin to the way he was back in Pandora's garden the day he proposed. His hair is white like Phantom, but his eyes are sky blue.
"Where have you been?"
"Where I always am, My Love," he grins back, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips, "Quite unfortunately working, instead of spending time with my beautiful queen."
A large signet ring rests upon his hand, decorated with a celtic triangle knot. She knows the word for it, what it's called...a triquetra. Balance between mind, body, and spirit. How apt.
On her own hand is a similar ring, though smaller, decorated with a triple spiral. A triskelion. Both designs pulse with a soft, pale green light.
"Well, perhaps you should make more time," she scolds softly.
"Perhaps I shall," he grins, pulling her along by her hand, "Come on, I have something to show you."
As they race down the hallway, the white walls begin to fade, turning into wicked black thorns. They writhe as though living, occasionally reaching out to trip her. Danny, however, doesn't seem to notice them, his eyes locked unfailingly on her.
His hand is ripped out of her own, and he's dragged into the thorns. A scream tears at her throat, but everything's fallen silent. The thorns have stilled.
"Only the wisest of these may pass," a woman's voice calls, "Only the wise are worthy."
She runs through the maze, trying to find the voice.
"I must confess, it's fascinating to see you here."
Who is that? That's not the same voice as before...
She looks around, but everything's gone dark. She can't even see the maze anymore.
"So The Prophetess is following her king? How interesting. The woman who escaped me, when she was to have begged for me, embraced me. You've suffered so much you shouldn't have had to suffer…"
"Who are you?!" she demands into the darkness.
"Isn't that obvious?" another voice answers, and red eyes appear from the darkness. Impurity smirks, his sharp teeth flashing.
"He's an old friend. Perhaps...even the oldest."