Within the swirling mist of her trance, Anastasia hovered weightless, her body glowing faintly with golden-red light. Around her, time did not exist as it did in the world outside. In the feast hall of Varethia, barely a moment had passed. But here, in the silent realm of visions, thirty long minutes stretched like eternity.
Before her, radiant and solemn, stood the Lady in White.
Her voice echoed with the softness of wind and the weight of ages. Her white robes shimmered like light wrapped in fog, and her silver hair flowed like moonlight over her shoulders.
"Anastasia," she said, "it is time."
Anastasia watched, entranced, as the mists around them began to shift. Shapes formed in the haze — mountains, rivers, castles, cities. Four kingdoms took shape in glowing light, hovering midair
