Sleep, sleep my little prince
But wake in the dawn
To find your castle and your kingdom
Ripped away and gone
But do not fear my little prince
Like this it may not stay
For I give to you this rose
Praying it will show you the way
Send it into time, drop it in a well
And help from one from another time
Will come and restore what fell.
These were the words she spoke to me. Her ghostly form shimmered and clouded my dream. Everything about her was transparent, her shimmering shoulder length hair, her pale skin, and her sad eyes. The only thing with colour was a single blue rose in her hair. You could tell that she had once been beautiful.
She spoke these words with a grave intensity, willing me to listen. My eyes met hers and I found it hard to look away. She reached into her hair and pulled out the rose, handing it to me. The thorns pricked my finger, and a small bead of blood formed on my finger. I looked up at her one more time, and with a flash of white everything was gone.
