What would you do if you could see the future?

What if you couldn’t see the past?

How would you react if you were forced to forget your entire life, no longer being able to recall any of it? Would you fight? Would you be angry? Would you do anything to get your memories back?

Or would you simply not remember anything and live on?

---

A queen was walking around nervously. She didn’t want to do what she knew she would have to.

Her husband, the love of her life, was standing on the other side of the large throne room. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. It had been foretold.

The crossed the room to get to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t need to tell her what he felt about this plan of hers. He knew she already knew.

Lately she had always known.

The king turned around. His face was wet, his eyes puffy and red. He looked up at his wife’s face, knowing she could feel he was looking at her. Her eyes had gone white long ago. She was still the most beautiful woman he knew, the love of his life.

The queen felt her husband gently touch the scar on her forehead. It had once been an open eye, the symbol of peace, of knowing what would happen next. But the eye had closed.

The couple hugged. They defied fate by hugging just a bit longer.

They didn’t want to separate forever.

---

In her bedroom, in the current time, Anya Heatherson woke up startled. She sat up too fast and felt her head swim for multiple reasons, before she could focus her eyes again, trying to turn on her bedside light and get her dream journal at the same time. After having successfully turned on the light she looked at the mess that was her bedside table, which was actually just a shelf on the wall. Carefully picking up the old journal her grandmother had given her, she flipped to the nearest empty page. Taking a pen from the shelf, she wrote down what her confused mind could remember.

Queen.

King.

Eye.

Worry.

Death.

She read the words over and over again, trying to find any meaning in them. Her doctor had said the dreams were too specific, that maybe they were memories she was remembering incorrectly. The real world didn’t have magic, he had said. Write them down, try to figure out what they really mean.

The words meant nothing. Anya tried to find meaning in them but her brain was completely empty, which would have been a blessing any other time.

What couldn’t she figure out? What was she missing? What had she been missing for almost 17 years?

She picked up her phone, checking the time.

5:20. Just as always.

Another sleepless night ahead.