Short story # 3 - Echoes of a Future Self - A Tale of Gràís D’hè MàcBhàtàr

Gràís, the young princess of Llamda, lay nestled in her large bed, her suite situated next to her parents' chambers within the heart of the palace. The room, decorated in soft, warm hues, was dimly lit by a small crystal on her bedside table, casting a gentle glow on her coppery brown hair that spilled across the white pillow. Her slightly elven features - a delicate point to her ears and a gracefulness to her sleep form - spoke of her ancient lineage from her mother's side. Repose often disguised her more wild nature, that her mother laughingly stated came from her father, while he just as fondly said it must have come from Aryndra. Yet tonight, her repose was anything but peaceful.

As the night deepened, her sleep grew more and more troubled. Gràís tossed and turned beneath her blankets, her small body twisting as if trying to escape an invisible torment. Her soft moans of distress filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the usual serenity of her nights.

In her dreams, Gràís found herself not as the young princess of Llamda, but as a warrior - Deanna, a battle-hardened woman with long gray-brown hair, scars and tattoos crisscrossing her arms, fighting for her life in dark, oppressive tunnels. Gràís had no idea where she was, just that her and her friends were in danger of being overrun by the enemy. The air was thick with the stench of blood and sweat, and the echoes of battle reverberated off the stone walls. Deanna's hands gripped the hilts of her twin swords tightly, the familiar weight of them grounding her in the chaos that surrounded her. She was not alone.

To her left, Katrine, a fierce warrior and one of her closest companions since arriving on this world, fought with deadly precision, her blue hair a striking blur as she felled enemy after enemy. To her right was the Royal Guard, their loyalty unshakable, their swords rising and falling in a deadly rhythm. And then there was Elena, the Wizard, her vibrant ginger hair blazing like fire even in the dim light of the tunnels, a stark contrast to her dark complexion. Deanna's heart clenched at the sight of her. The love she felt for Elena was overwhelming, though unspoken, and it fueled her determination to protect her at all costs.

The enemy they faced was no ordinary foe. They were soldiers of Indra-Kan, ruthless and relentless, their dark armour glinting with an otherworldly sheen. But Deanna fought with a ferocity that matched, even surpassed, theirs. Every swing of her blades was precise, every movement calculated. She could feel the power surging through her, a raw energy that seemed to make her unstoppable. Yet, despite the intensity of the battle, her eyes kept darting to Elena, ensuring she was safe.

Suddenly, a pulse of dark energy shot through the air, its origin a black robed figure at the far end of the tunnel. The Necromancer, a servant of Indra-Kan, raised his hand, his eyes locked on Elena. The pulse hit her squarely in the chest, and she crumpled to the ground, her body limp, appearing lifeless. The world stopped for Deanna, and the dreaming Gràís. A scream tore from her throat, a sound of pure, unbridled rage and despair.

In that instant, all reason left her. Deanna's vision turned red as her rage took over, the love she bore for Elena turning into a vengeful fury. With a cry of defiance, she rushed at the soldiers standing in her way. Her swords became an extension of her wrath, glowing with a deadly light as her magic infused them with power. No one could stand against her; she batted aside soldiers like they were nothing, her magic tearing through their defenses as if they were paper. The tunnel walls shook with the force of her assault, dust and debris raining down as her power grew with every strike.

And then, she saw him - the Necromancer, the one who had taken Elena from her. With a roar, Deanna threw herself at him, her swords spinning in a deadly arc. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She needed to feel his pain, to make him suffer as she was suffering. Deanna grabbed him by the throat, her strength fueled by her rage, each impact sending shock waves through the stone. Her eyes blazed with a murderous intent as she raised her hand, ready to unleash her magic on him, to end him in the most agonizing way possible.

But something held her back - a voice, a feeling, something deep inside her that wasn't her own. Gràís. It was as if Gràís was suddenly there, inside Deanna, feeling every bit of her rage, her sorrow, her desperate need for revenge. Gràís could feel the woman's turmoil, the burning need to hurt the man who had taken someone so precious from her. But she also felt the love, the unbearable loss that drove Deanna to this edge. Gràís knew she was Deanna. It was too much, too intense. Gràís wanted to pull back, to escape the nightmare, but she was trapped within it, bound to Deanna's emotions.

And then with a jolt, Gràís woke up with a scream

She gasped for breath, her heart pounding in her chest as if she had been the one fighting in that dark tunnel. Her body trembled, drenched in sweat as she struggled to free herself from the lingering terror of the dream. The room was still dark, but it was no longer comforting; it felt oppressive, as if the shadows themselves were closing in on her.

The door to her room opened, and Aryndra, her mother, entered hurriedly, her expression one of concern. She had heard her daughter's distress and had come as quickly as she could. Seeing Gràís's pale face and wide, frightened eyes, Aryndra hurried to her side, wrapping her arms around her trembling form.

"What is it, my love?" Aryndra whispered, her voice soft and soothing, though Gràís could hear the underlying worry. "What troubles you?"

Gràís clung to her mother, her small hands gripping tightly to the fabric of Aryndra's nightgown. She tried to find the words to explain, to describe the intensity of the dream, but all she could manage was a choked sob. "I... I was her, Mama. I was Deanna... and she... she lost Elena. She was so enraged. I was so angry. I... She... We hurt the man responsible. I... We... I have never felt such loss and pain."

Aryndra's heart ached at her daughter's words. She didn't fully understand the extend of what was happening, but she could feel the truth in Gràís's voice, the raw emotion that came from a place far deeper than a simple nightmare. She held Gràís closer, whispering gentle reassurances, even as her mind raced with concern. What was this dream? What had it been so powerful, so real? The name Deanna was one she knew her daughter would carry in another life. Was this what her daughter had to look forward to?

As Gràís buried her face in her mother's shoulder, Aryndra stroked her hair, her touch gentle and comforting. "It's just a dream, little one," she said, though the words felt hollow to her. "You're safe now. I am here with you."

But as Gràís slowly calmed down, lulled by her mother's soothing presence, Aryndra couldn't shake the feeling that these dreams were something more - something they would need to understand and soon. For now, though, she focused on comforting her daughter, determined to keep her safe from whatever shadows haunted her in the night.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the royal dining room, casting a warm glow over the richly adorned space. The royal family sat around a long, polished table, where an array of food was spread before them - fresh fruits, warm bread, and savour meats. Yet, the usual lighthearted chatter and laughter was absent. Gràís, seated between her parents was unusually quiet, her gaze fixed on the plate in front her, barely touched.

Aryndra exchanged a worried glance with Antor. They had spoken in hushed tones before breakfast, Aryndra recounting the details of the nightmare that had shaken their daughter in the night. Now, as Gràís picked at her food, Aryndra could see the lingering fear in her eyes. They needed to understand more - about the dream, about what it might mean for their daughter.

"Gràís, my love," Aryndra began gently, reaching out to touch her daughter's hand. "I know last night's dream was frightening, but your father and I need to understand more about it. Can you tell us what you remember?"

Gràís looked up at her mother, her eyes reflecting a mix of anxiety and hesitance. She took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic images in her mind into something coherent. "It was... it was so real," she started, her voice quiet. "I was Deanna, in a dark place, fighting... fighting soldiers with swords and magic. But it wasn't just the fighting that scared me, Mama. It was the anger. I was so angry, like I was going to explode. And when I thought Elena was gone... I wanted to hurt him, the one who hurt her. I didn't just want to stop him. I wanted to make him suffer."

Antor leaned forward, his face serious but calm. "And you felt this, as if you were truly her?"

Gràís nodded, her small hands clenching the edges of the table. "I was her. I knew what she knew, felt what she felt. And she... she had been through so much, Papa. She had scars, so many scars, all over her body. They were hidden by tattoos and magic, but I could feel the pain she carried with her. I'm scared... scared that I'll be like that, that I'll lose control like she did. I don't want to be angry like that. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Antor exchanged another look with Aryndra, his expression growing more concerned. They had always known their daughter was destined for something greater, but hearing the intensity of her fears, the violence she might face, troubled them deeply.

"We'll do every we can to protect you, Gràís," Aryndra assured her, though her heart was heavy. "You're not alone in this. We are here to help you, and so in Marlinus."

At the mention of the wizard's name, Gràís's gaze shifted to the door, where the royal advisor, Marlinus, entered the room. He was an odd mix of appearance, old eyes, young face, white beard and he exuded wisdom and power, while his expression carried a hint of warmth. As he approached the table, he bowed slightly to the family, his gaze settling on Gràís with a gentle smile.

"Your Majesties," he greeted, then turned his attention to the young princess. "Gràís, I hear you had quite the dream last night. Would you mind sharing it with me?"

Gràís hesitated, but her parents' encouraging nods gave her the courage to recount the dream once more, this time in more detail. As she spoke, Marlinus listened intently, his expression growing more thoughtful with every word. When she finished, the room fell into a heavy silence, each person lost in their own thoughts.

"So, it seems that your connection to this Deanna runs deeper than we anticipated. It seems to cross the boundaries of time and space, not too mention realities," Marlinus finally said, his tone measured. "If these dreams are indeed glimpses of what may come, it is crucial we prepare you, Gràís. But I understand your fear. Anger, when left unchecked, can be a dangerous thing. However, it is also a natural emotion, one that can be controlled with the right guidance."

Gràís looked at the wizard, her young face troubled. "But what if I can't control it? What if I become like her, full of rage and pain?"

Marlinus knelt beside her, his eyes meeting hers with a comforting gaze. "You are not alone, child. You have your parents, your family, and me to help guide you. And while Deanna may have faced great trials, you are not her. You are Gràís, and your path is but a part of hers. You have the power to shape your destiny, to learn from what you see in these dreams." His eyes crinkled with his warm smile. "And I will share something with you." Gràís leaned closer as he said in a lower voice. "I happen to know something of this Deanna."

"You do?"

"Yes, young Gràís, I do. While I do not fully understand it all myself, you and she are one, you will become her, she will become you. I have reached out to the future numerous times, and I know that I have been there to guide her. Yes, she has and will face many trials, as will you." He placed a reassuring hand on young princess's arm, "but I can tell you with surety that she, that you will never be an angry, bad person. Deanna may have lost control in your dream for a moment, but I know that is not normal for her." He sighed. "My dealings with her have been confused due to temporal distance, and I have odd fragments of memories of her being extremely difficult." He grinned then, "reminds me of you actually."

A tremulous smile almost appeared on Gràís's lips. "Are you sure, Marlinus?"

"Yes, my princess, I am sure. I only know a little of Deanna's life and I know it was not easy, but you and she are one and have the strength to face any challenge."

Antor placed a reassuring hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You are stronger than you think, Gràís. And no matter what happens, we all have faith in you."

Despite their comforting words, Gràís could see the worry in their eyes. They tried to mask it, but she knew they were troubled. To ease her fear, Antor suggested something to lift her spirits. "What do you say we take a trip to visit your mother's family? I think some time in the Elven Kingdom might be just what you need.

A small smile definitely tugged at Gràís's lips. The idea of visiting her grandparents and cousins in the Elven Kingdom brought a spark of joy back into her heart. The Elven forests were a place of peace and magic, where she could forget, even if only for a little while, the heavy burden of the dreams and prophecy.

"That sounds nice, Papa," she said softly.

Aryndra and Antor exchanged relieved glances, grateful for any distraction that might help their daughter. Marlinus nodded in approval as well, knowing that the tranquility of the Elven lands might offer Gràís the respite she needed to gather her strength.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden light through the dense canopy of the ancient forest as the royal family approached the Elven city. Antor, Aryndra and Gràís rode in stately procession, each mounted on a magnificent white horse. The horses, nearly identical in their graceful form and gleaming coats, moved with an almost ethereal grace, their hooves barely seeming to touch the ground. Antor's stallion led the way, his head held high, while Aryndra's mare rode close beside him, the two horses moving in perfect sync. Gràís's horse, a mare nearly as tall as her parents', followed just behind, her intelligent eyes scanning the trees around them. These horses were more than mere animals; they were family, bonded to their riders in a deep, almost mystical connection, much like the one that bound the royal family together.

As they entered the Elven city, the trees seemed to part, revealing a breathtaking sight. The city itself was woven into the fabric of the forest, with towering trees forming the walls and roofs of elegant structures, their branches and leaves shimmering with a soft, magical glow. The pathways were lined with flowers that seemed to bloom in response to the royal family's presence, their vibrant colours adding to the beauty of the surroundings.

The Elves themselves, tall and slender with pointed ears and graceful movements, stood along the path, their gazes filled with respect and admiration as they watched the royal procession. They bowed as Antor, Aryndra, and Gràís passed, their eyes filled with respect that spoke of the deep ties between their people and the royal family. All knew of the sacrifices made by Antor in his rescue of their very own Aryndra, as well as the sacrifices made by both on their return trip and in bringing peace to their world. The guards accompanying the royals moved in practiced formation, their armour glinting in the soft light, but even they could not help but be awed by the beauty of the Elven city.

As they approached the heart of the city, the trees gave way to a grand plaza, at the center of which stood the Elven palace. The palace was a marvel of natural architecture, its towering spires formed from living trees that had been coaxed and guided by Elven magic over centuries. Vines and flowers adorned the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of jasmine and lavender. The palace seemed to pulse with life, a living testament to the harmony between the Elves and their forest.

The royal family dismounted at the foot of the palace steps, where a group of Elven attendants awaited them. The attendants were dressed in flowing garments of green and gold, their movements graceful as they took the reins of the horses and let them away to the royal stables, where they would be cared for the the utmost attention.

Antor and Aryndra, with Gràís between them, ascended the stairs, their presence commanding the attention of all who watched. As they reached the top, the grand doors of the palace opened, and they were greeted by the sight of the Elven court assembled in the great hall. The hall was a vast space, its high ceilings supported by living tree trunks that rose like columns, their branches stretching out to form the beam and rafters that held the roof. The floor was polished wood, inlaid with intricate patterns that told the history of the Elven people.

At the far end of the hall, seated on thrones of living wood and adorned with crown of leaves and flowers, were the Elven Queens - Lethwyn and Isolde. The two women, both stunningly beautiful with long, flowing hair - one a reddish brown, the other golden - rose to their feet as the royal family entered. Their eyes, filled with warmth and love, were fixed on Gràís, their granddaughter, whom they had not seen in many months.

"Welcome, dear ones," Lethwyn said, her voice melodic, carrying a sense of both authority and deep affection. "It has been far too long."

Isolde stepped forward, her golden hair catching the light as she extended her arms in a gesture of welcome. "Our hearts have missed you, Aryndra, Antor, and our precious Gràís. The forest sings with joy at your return."

The Elven Queens descended from their thrones, moving gracefully across the hall to embrace their family. Lethwyn took Aryndra's hands in hers, the two women sharing a smile that spoke of the deep bond between mother and daughter. Isolde embraced Gràís, her touch gentle and reassuring, as if she could sense the young princess's lingering unease. Then Isolde turned to Aryndra with a welcoming hug.

Aryndra smiled warmly at both. "Mothers' thank you for the welcome. It is always good to visit."

"Come, let us feast and celebrate your arrival," Lethwyn said, her gaze lingering on Gràís with a knowing look. "And then, when the time is right, we will talk."

The family was led to a grand dining room, where a feast had been prepared in their honour. The long table was laden with a bounty of Elven delicacies - fruits and vegetables that seemed to glow with an inner light, bread as soft as clouds, and wines that shimmered with a golden hue. The walls of the dining room were lined with windows, allowing the soft light of the setting sun to fill the space, casting everything in a warm glow.

As they sat down to dine, the conversation flowed easily, the warmth and love of the Elven court easing some of the tension that had followed them from Rhadon. Gràís, seated between her Grandparents, began to relax, her earlier fears temporarily forgotten in te comfort of her family's presence. Lethwyn and Isolde, sensing the weight on their granddaughter's young shoulders, made it their mission to lift her spirits, sharing stories of the forest, the beauty of their homeland, and the joys they had experienced since their last visit.

But as the evening wore on, the conversation gradually turned to more serious matters. Lethwyn and Isolde, with their centuries of wisdom, knew that the dreams troubling Gràís could not be ignored. When the meal was finished, and the servants had quietly withdrawn, the queens turned their attention fully to Gràís, the expressions gentle but serious.

"Tell us, little one," Isolde said softly, her golden eyes locking with Gràís's. "What is it that weighs so heavily on your heart."

Gràís hesitated for a moment, glancing at her parents, who nodded encouragingly. Then, with a deep breath, she began to recount the details of her dreams - of Deanna, of the battles, of the overwhelming anger and pain. As she spoke, the Elven Queens listened intently, their expressions growing more serious with each word.

When she finished, the room was silent, the gravity of her words hanging in the air. Lethwyn was the first to speak, her voice soft but firm. "I know you have likely heard this a lot, but you are not alone in this." She placed a gentle, loving hand on the princess's arm. "We are family and we will all be with you."

Isolde reached out to touch Gràís's cheek, her eyes filled with love. "And remember, you are not defined by the pain or anger of another live. You have the strength to forge a different path."

Their words brought some comfort to Gràís, though the fear lingered in her heart.

The night had settled over the Elven city, the stars twinkling through the canopy of trees that sheltered the entire city. Gràís lay in her bed, the soft linens and the scent of lavender from the garden outside doing little to ease her troubled mind. Despite the warmth and comfort of her surroundings, sleep brought no peace.

As her eyes closed, Gràís was once again pulled into a dream - one that felt all too real. She found herself on a vast battlefield, the air thick with the sounds of clashing steel, the cries of the wounded, and the scent of blood and sweat. The sky above was a roiling mass of dark clouds, and the ground beneath her feet was littered with the fallen.

In the midst of this chaos, she saw Deanna and Elena, fighting side by side. Deanna moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior, her twin swords flashing as they cut through the enemy ranks. Elena was at her side, her hands glowing with magical energy as she cast spells to protect and heal those around her. There was a palpable bond between them, a deep connection that went beyond words - a bond filled with love, trust and a shared purpose.

Gràís could feel this bond as if it were her own, her heart swelling with the love Deanna felt for Elena. But as the battle raged on, the tide began to turn. Deanna, distracted for a moment by the sight of Elena fighting off a powerful adversary, was suddenly overwhelmed by a group of enemy soldiers. Gràís watched in horror as she/Deanna was struck by multiple weapons - swords, spears, and arrows - each blow piercing her flesh and leaving her gravely wounded.

The pain was immediate and excruciating, not just for Deanna but for Gràís as well. She felt each stab, each cut, as if they were happening to her own body. The agony reverberated through her, a searing pain that left her gasping for breath. She could feel the life draining from Deanna, from herself. Feel the overwhelming sense of loss and despair that came with the realization that she might not survive.

Elena's scream of anguish pierced through the chaos, and she rushed to Deanna's side, her hands glowing with healing magic. But the wounds were deep, and Deanna was slipping away. Gràís felt the desperation, the fear of losing, she felt the darkness slipping over her vision and the anger at herself for allowing the enemy to overpower her.

Suddenly Gràís was pulled from the dream, waking with a scream that echoed through the palace. Her body was drenched in sweat, and she could feel the phantom pains of the wounds that had pierced Deanna. Her heart pounded in her chest, the remnants of the dream clinging to her like a shroud of darkness.

Before she could even catch her breath, Aryndra was at her side, her eyes filled with concern. "Gràís, my love, what happened?" she asked, her voice gentle but urgent as she pulled her daughter into her arms.

Gràís trembled in her mother's arms, her voice shaky as she tried to explain. "It was Deanna again... I was her... she...I was fighting, and she got hurt, so badly... I felt it, Mama, I felt everything."

Aryndra held her daughter close, stroking her coppery brown hair, which was damp with sweat. "Shh, it's alright, you're safe now," she whispered, though her heart ached at the fear in Gràís's voice. "You are not alone, Gràís. We're here with you."

Gràís clung to her mother, her body still shaking from the intensity of the dream. "I... I don't understand, Mama. Why do I feel like this? Why does it feel so real? Am I to die in some unimportant battle far from now?"

Aryndra sighed softly, wishing she had the answers her daughter so desperately needed. "I don't know, my love. But whatever it is, we will figure it out. You are strong, stronger than you know. And you have us - all of us - to help."

Despite her mother's comforting words, Gràís could still feel the lingering pain of the dream, the fear that she would one day face the same fate as Deanna. She eventually fell back into an uneasy sleep, her mind still haunted by the images of the battlefield, even as her mother held her close.

The next night, Gràís once again found herself slipping into a dream that felt more like a memory than a mere fragment of her imagination. This time, the setting was different - a world that felt alien and yet strangely familiar.

Gràís was no longer in the middle of a battle, but in a dark, cold room. She was bound, gagged, and terrified, her heart racing as she realized she was Deanna - a 16 year old girl, vulnerable and scared. The room was dimly lit, the walls cold and damp, and the air was filled with the scent of fear and desperation - her fear.

Her captors were young men, their voices harsh and cruel as they taunted her. The torture began almost immediately, each blow, each cut, each searing pain ripping through her body with a brutality that left her gasping for breath. Gràís felt every moment of it - every lash, every scream, but the child, Deanna never uttered a plea for anything.

The tortured lasted for what felt like an eternity, each moment stretching into the next, the pain never-ending as the boys dealt out pain, shouting and screaming at her to admit she was a boy and not a girl, but Gràís had no idea what that might mean. Gràís was trapped in the dream, experiencing the horror of it all as if it were happening to her. The physical pain was unbearable, but the emotional toll was even worse. Gràís felt Deanna's despair, her fear that she might never escape, and her deep overwhelming sadness at the thought of never seeing her loved ones again.

After what seemed like weeks, Deanna finally managed to escape, hobbling through forests and fields, her body broken and blooded. Gràís felt the sharp pain of Deanna's broken ankle, the exhaustion that made every step a struggle, and the fear that someone was still chasing her. She felt the distrust that had taken root in Deanna's heart, the belief that no one could be trusted.

Gràís was dragged along through the dream, feeling every ounce of Deanna's suffering. When Deanna finally stumbled into a hospital in a place called Inverness. A strange city, full of concrete and steel. Unusual vehicles moved on concrete like roads, so much noise and smell coming from them. Gràís was completely unfamiliar with it, but it was familiar to Deanna, and she sensed the relief upon entering the hospital and collapsing from exhaustion, Gràís felt the overwhelming relief that came with finally finding safety. But the relief was short-lived, replaced by the deep, bone-weary exhaustion and the emotional and physical scars that would never fully heal.

Gràís woke up with a gasp, her body trembling, her heart racing. The Phantom pains from the dream lingered, her ankle throbbing as if it had been truly shattered. The terror of the dream clung to her, a suffocating blanket of fear that left her feeling trapped and alone.

This time Aryndra was already in the room, having stayed close by after the previous night's ordeal. She rushed to her daughter's side, her heart breaking at the sight of Gràís's tear-streaked face. "Oh, my sweet girl," Aryndra whispered, gathering Gràís into her arms. "What happened? What did you see?"

Gràís tried to speak, but her voice was choked with tears. "It was Deanna... but she was different... younger, in a place I didn't recognize. She was hurt so badly, Mama. I felt it all... It was like I was her."

Aryndra held her daughter close, her own heart heavy with worry. "I am so sorry, Gràís. I wish I could take this pain away from you."

Gràís clung to her mother, her body still shaking from the intensity of the dream. "I don't understand, Mama... why am I have these dreams? Why do I feel like I'm her?"

Aryndra looked grave as she held her daughter and whispered. "I fear that you and she are one in the same, my love. But I do not know if these are dreams or more. Your father and I will speak with your Grandparents, that is why we are here. We will come up with some solution."

Gràís nodded, but the fear and confusion remained. She was beginning to realize that these dreams were maybe more than just nightmares - they were memories of things that had not happened yet, a window into another life that she was somehow connected to. But the thought of living through Deanna's pain and suffering was almost too much to bear.

The third night Gràís was awake late, frightened of sleep and the dreams that had started to come with it. Aryndra had taken extra care to make sure her daughter was comfortable, tucking her into bed with the same gentleness she had shown was Gràís was younger. She could see the fear in her daughter's yes, the way her hands trembled as she pulled the blankets up to her chin.

Aryndra sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing Gràís's hair away from her face. "Would you like me to sing to you, little one?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mother's love.

Gràís nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please, Mama."

Aryndra began to sing, her voice soft and soothing as she sang an ancient lullaby that had been passed down through their family for generations. The melody was haunting and beautiful, the words telling of a time long past, when the world was young and full of wonder.

As she sang, Aryndra gently stroked Gràís's hair, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter's distress. When the lullaby ended, she leaned down and kissed Gràís's forehead. "You are so strong, my darling," she whispered. "And I believe that you are destined for great things. But sometimes, those with great destinies must bear heavy burdens."

Gràís looked up at her mother, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "I'm scared Mama. I don't know why this is happening to me."

Aryndra sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. "I do not know either, my love. But I do know that we are seldom given a choice." She smiled sadly. "When you were born, I knew you were special." She chuckled softly. "Every mother knows their child is special, but with you it was so much more. I felt the pull of destiny. I saw the long chain of lives you would live, and I knew that there would be hardship." She caressed her daughter's cheek. "I hoped, prayed even, that this life would be one of relative ease. But if not, then there was one thing I knew for sure, and that was that I would be there for you no matter what."

Gràís nodded, her fear still present but tempered by her mother's words. "Do you think I'll ever understand this?"

Aryndra smiled softly, though the worry in her eyes was still there. "I believe that in time, you will. And when that time comes, you will be ready for whatever lies ahead. Until then, you must trust in yourself and in those who love you."

Gràís felt a small measure of comfort in her mother's words, but the uncertainty still lingered. She lay back against her pillows, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. Aryndra stayed by her side until she drifted off to sleep, her heart heavy with worry for her daughter.

The next morning, Aryndra and Antor decided that Gràís needed a break from the weight of her dreams. Fortunately, they'd made it through at least one night without one, but the worry was still heavy with her daughter, she could see that. She arranged for her mothers - Gràís's grandmothers - to spend the day with her, hoping that some time away from everything would ease her mind.

Gràís was hesitant at first, still shaken from the intensity of the previous nights. But her grandmothers were always warm and loving, their presence a comforting reminder that she was never alone in any of her struggles. They took her out into the city, a place full of life and energy, with bustling markets, vibrant colours, and the scent of fresh flowers in the air.

As they walked through the city, Gràís began to feel a small measure of relief. The sounds and sights of the market distracted her from the darkness that had plagued her dreams, and the presence of her grandmothers, with their laughter and stories, brought a sense of normalcy back into her life.

They stopped at a small cafe, where they sat outside and enjoyed sweet pastries and herbal tea. Her grandmothers chatted about their own adventures, regaling Gràís with stories of their travels and the people they had met along the way. As Queens of the Elven realm they had journeyed extensively and seen so much. The lighthearted conversation helped to lift Gràís's spirits, if only for a little while.

Later, they visited a small park on the outskirts of the city, where Gràís could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and the soft breeze in her hair. The tranquility of the park, with its blooming flowers and signing birds, provided a stark contrast to the dark dreams that had haunted her, and was a welcome respite to her Elven nature.

As they sat by a small pond, watching the fish swim lazily through the water, Grandma Isolde gently took her hand. "You are strong Gràís," she said softly, "in life we all face trials of one form or another, and we know that you will face a great many, but your future lives will not be all about challenge. And from what you have shared with us, this Deanna is an extremely strong woman."

Gràís looked at her gran, the weight of the past few nights still heavy on her mind. "I don't feel strong," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Isolde smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "True strength is not about never being afraid. It is about facing your fears, even when they seem overwhelming. And I know you have that strength within you."

Gràís nodded, her heart still heavy but a little lighter than before. She knew that the dreams would return, and that the darkness she had seen was a part of her. But she also knew that she was not alone, and that she had the love and support of her family.

As the day came to a close, and they returned to the palace, Gràís felt a small spark of hope within her. Since she had escaped nightmares last night, she could only hope the magic of the Elven realm was working to keep the darkness away.

That night though, Gràís was once again plunged into a dream, but this time it was slightly different - more intense, more vivid. She, once again, found herself standing int he midst of a battlefield, the air thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the coppery tang of blood. Bodies lay strewn around her, mostly all enemy soldiers, a testament to the ferocity of the battle she had just won. The ground was soaked with the remnants of the conflict, and the sky above was a turbulent mix of dark clouds and flashes of lightning.

But Gràís felt none of the fear or sorrow that she expected to feel. Instead, she was filled with an overwhelming sense of triumph. She had won. She had defeated this worlds enemies, freed them, and the power coursing through her veins was intoxicating. She looked down at her hands, which were still glowing with the energy of her victory. It was a feeling of invincibility, as if nothing in the universe could stand against her.

Yet, as she stood there, basking in her triumph, a dark presence began to seep into her consciousness. It was subtle at first, like a whisper in the back of her mind. But it grew stronger, more insistent, until it was all she could hear. The confidence that had filled her moments ago started to twist, turning into something else - something darker.

Before she could react, the darkness enveloped her completely. It wasn't just an external force, despite beginning that way, it was a force of darkness that was consuming her. In her memories, she'd felt it hovering over her shoulder for a long time, waiting. And now, it had found its moment. Her arrogance and pride had become the crack in her armour.

Gràís felt herself losing control, her thoughts and actions no longer her own, and no longer Deanna's. The darkness fed on her power, amplifying it to terrifying levels. She could feel it urging her to delve into her power, to consume everything, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

In a moment of horrifying clarity, she realized what was about to happen. Her hands, now blackened and crackling with dark energy, rose of their own accord. The sky above darkened further, and the ground beneath her began to tremble. The very planet she stood on was about to be torn apart, and she was powerless to stop it.

Just as the destruction began - just as the planet started to crack and crumble under the weight of her unleashed power - Gràís woke up. She sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her body trembling violently. The remnants of the dream clung to her, the feeling of the darkness still lingering in the corners of her mind.

Aryndra and Antor had been keeping vigil outside their daughter's door, sensing something was wrong. The moment Gràís woke up with a start, Aryndra was at her side, Antor but a step behind. They rushed into the room and wrapped their arms around their daughter, holding her close.

Gràís's wide eyes were filled with fear and confusion as she whispered, "Mama, I feel different. Something... something in the dream took control of me, I feel it even now. A darkness."

Glancing over Gràís's head at Antor, Aryndra could not hide her concern from her husband, for she felt it too - the change in their daughter. There was a new energy around Gràís, one that was both familiar and unsettling. They held their daughter, trying to soothe her trembling form. "It is okay, my love. We are here."

But even as she said those words, Aryndra couldn't shake the feeling that something dark was after their daughter now and in the future. She could sense the darkness that had touched Gràís, and it filled her with a deep unease. Yet, she knew that whatever had targeted their child, it was not something the could face alone.

The next morning, Aryndra and Antor met with the Elven Queens, Isolde and Lethwyn, while Gràís spent time with her cousins, her parents sought counsel from the childs grandmothers. Isolde, with her flowing golden hair, and Lethwyn, whose coppery locks gleamed in the morning light, listened carefully as Aryndra recounted the dream Gràís had experienced and the changes she had felt.

"The connection between Gràís and Deanna is undeniable," Isolde said, her voice soft but filled with authority. "They are, in some way, one and the same. You foresaw this yourself when she was born. But it is as if time is linking present with distant future, allowing Gràís to experience Deanna's life through her dreams."

"But why only the darkness?" Aryndra asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Why does she only see the pain and suffering? If Deanna is truly Gràís, then her life cannot be only pain. I know my daughter. There must be moments of joy, of love, of goodness."

Lethwyn nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It is possible that the something is directing these memories. You mentioned a feeling of darkness within and surrounding her. We know that it is her destiny, sometime in the future, to be a champion of creation, perhaps the darkness is attempting to influence her now. The strongest memories of her as Deanna, could be those of pain, fear, and anger. They can leave deep impressions on the soul, and it may be these that are being transmitted into Gràís." Lethwyn smiled softly, "but when we were out yesterday something Isolde said gave me an idea, reinforced by what you just said my daughter. Deanna cannot be all darkness. Perhaps what we need do is reinforce the good." Lethwyn took a long, deep breath. "I think what Gràís needs is to experience other memories of Deanna. We must guide her in seeing the goodness that is within her in the future. She needs to understand that Deanna's life is not only filled with darkness. Maybe that will tip the balance and give her the power she needs to grow into her destiny."

Aryndra looked at them, hoping glimmering in her eyes. "Is there a way to show her? To help her see the other aspects of Deanna's life?"

Isolde and Lethwyn exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. "There is a ritual," Lethwyn said. "A ritual that will allow Gràís to reach out to Deanna and view her life from a different perspective. We can guide her through a series of visions that will show her the moments of light, of happiness, and of love in Deanna's life. For we knew our granddaughter as well, and she cannot become a being of darkness, such as she is dreaming of. It is also possible that the dreams are manipulated so that her translation of events is not accurate. A true link may be just what she needs."

Antor, who had been listening silently, spoke up. "Will this help her? Will it prevent the darkness from taking hold of her?"

"It will help her understand," Isolde replied. "Darkness is manipulative. This ritual will show her that Deanna's life, while filled with challenges, also holds moments of great beauty and joy. It will give her the strength to face the darkness that all beings carry within, and face off the manipulation of the outer darkness. She will know that while she is capable of destruction, she is also fully capable of fending off the darkness that is trying to seep in and take control."

Aryndra nodded, determination in her eyes. "Then let's do it. Let's help her see the truth."

The ritual was held in the sacred grove of the Elven Queens, a place where the veil between worlds was thin, and the energies of the universe flowed freely. It was similar to the grove that Antor had created for Aryndra in Rhadon. Gràís, accompanied by her mother and father, stood at the center of the grove, surrounded by Isolde and Lethwyn.

As the ritual began, the air around them shimmered with ethereal light. The Queens chanted in an ancient language, their voices harmonizing with the natural energy of the grove. Gràís closed her eyes, feeling the power of the ritual envelop her.

The first vision came quickly. Gràís found herself standing in a sunlit meadow, the air filled with the scent of wildflowers and the sound of birdsong. She saw Deanna, much younger, with a carefree smile on her face, running through the meadow with a group of children. The surrounding was far different than the last dream. Gone was the modern city, this setting was idyllic, from the perspective of Gràís. A forest surrounded the meadow, the air was clear and fresh. Their laughter echoed in the air, pure and joyful. It was a moment of innocence, of simple happiness, far removed from the battles and darkness Gràís had seen before.

The vision shifted, and Gràís was now in a grand hall filled with people. It was a celebration, a feast, and Deanna was at the center of it, surrounded by friends and family. She was older now, but the smile on her face was just as radiant as the child had been. There was warmth to the scene, a sense of belonging and love that filled Gràís with a deep sense of peace.

Next Gràís saw Deanna standing before a young woman with vibrant ginger hair and emerald eyes shining from her dark complexion - Elena. The setting was so very different; it was a dreamscape, a place that felt both real and surreal. Gràís watched as Elena, much younger, reached out to Deanna, offering comfort and companionship. They spoke of dreams and shared moments of connection that transcended time and space. It was clear that their bond was deep, forged through shared experiences and a mutual understanding that went beyond words.

The vision shifted again, and Gràís found herself standing in the center of a stone ring. The henge was high up a mountain and it had the feeling of being ancient. It was a sacred place, filled with a palpable sense of power and reverence. In the center of the henge, Deanna and Elena stood hand in hand, their faces glowing with love and devotion. Both were mature. Elena, tall, powerful and stunningly beautiful. Deanna grown, gray brown hair, tattoos and scars covering her arms, but her eyes were full of love. Around them were friends, and a host of other beings - many felt familiar, although Gràís knew them not.

Gràís then recognized her parents, Aryndra and Antor, aged, looking careworn but still full of light and peace, their forms shimmering as they attended the ceremony as souls, transported across billions of years. Their presence filled Gràís with a deep sense of pride and love, knowing that her parents had been part of such a significant moment. Beyond them, she saw shadowy figures surrounding Deanna - her other parents, their forms indistinct yet emanating a deep and abiding love for their daughter. And there were so many of them. It was clear that these souls, despite their shadowy appearance, were there to show their unwavering support and affection for Deanna.

As the ceremony continued, Gràís saw the higher being, Brigid, with her vibrant ginger hair and ethereal presence. Brigid stood close to Deanna and Elena, her eyes filled with approval and love. The entire scene was bathed in a warm, golden light, and the atmosphere was one of profound joy and sacredness.

As the ritual in the sacred grove continued, the atmosphere around Gràís shifted once more. The ethereal light grew brighter, enveloping her in warmth and comfort. The Elven Queens' chants faded into the background again, and Gràís felt herself being pulled into another vision - one that felt distant, far removed from the present. Yet, there was a sense of inevitability about it, as if she were glimpsing a future that was both hers and not hers. And somehow she knew it was set after her last dream of falling into darkness and destroying a planet. Seemingly, she lived beyond that point.

Gràís found herself standing a vast valley, surrounded by immense mountains, the sky above a deep azure blue with a few white clouds. In the distance stood a singular tall tower, a source of immense power. The ground beneath her feet was rich and green, and the scent of life and living things filled the air. In the distance, she saw the silhouette of a lone figure, standing tall.

As she moved closer, Gràís's heart began to race. She recognized the figure immediately - it was Deanna. But this was not the Deanna from the wedding scene, or the carefree young woman she had seen in earlier visions. This Deanna was older, her body marked by the passage of time and the crucibles she had endured. Her long, gray-brown hair hung to her waist, and her skin bore the scars of countless battles. The intricate tattoos that adorned her body seemed to shimmer with a life of their own, weaving together her past and present. And despite the passage of time, she still bore the touches of youth in her appearance.

Despite the hardened exterior, there was a light in Deanna's eyes - a light of love, strength, and wisdom that had only deepened over the years. It was a light that spoke of resilience, of a spire that had refused to be broken, no matter how many challenges had been thrown her way.

Gràís knew, somehow, that this was Deanna far in the future - this was herself - how she knew, she could not say. But the certainty of it settled in her bones as she approached the warrior woman.

Deanna turned towards her, a gentle smile curving her lips. Her gaze softened as she looked at Gràís, and there was a moment of recognition in her eyes - a recognition that went beyond time and space.

"Hello, little one," Deanna greeted her, her voice warm and filled with affection. "It's been a long time since I've seen me like this."

Gràís felt a shiver run down her spine. "You... You can see me? You know who I am?"

Deanna nodded, her smile deepening. "Of course, I do. You are Gràís D’hè MàcBhàtàr, my younger self - my first birth. I've seen glimpses of you in my dreams, just as you've seen glimpses of me. We are connected, you and I, across time and lives."

Gràís swallowed, her emotions a tumultuous mix of awe, fear, and longing. "I've seen so much darkness... so much pain in your life, Deanna."

The woman smiled kindly. "I go by Gràís now, almost as often as Deanna. My full name, currently is Gràis Dhè MacBhàtair..."

"That is similar to mine, but not quite."

Older Gràis nodded, "A more modern version I suppose. Names and words change over time and location. But to avoid confusion, how about we still use Deanna. I carried that name for a long time anyway. So what is on your mind."

Gràis swallowed again. "The darkness. There has been so much pain in your life. It scares me. What if I'm not strong enough? What if the darkness takes over?"

Deanna stepped closer, placing a hand on Gràís's shoulder. The touch was reassuring, grounding. "Yes, my lives," she smiled lopsidedly, "our lives have been filled with difficulties - battles, losses, crucibles that tested me in ways I never imagined. But they were also filled with triumphs, victories, and more love than I could have ever asked for."

Gràís's gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of her fears pressing down on her. "But... how do you deal with it? The pain, the loss... how do you keep going?"

Deanna's expression softened, and she knelt down so that she was at eye level with Gràís. "I won't like to you, Gràís. The pain never completely goes away. But it becomes a part of you, a reminder of what you've endured and what you've overcome. And with every challenge, every loss, I've learned something new about myself - about strength I didn't know I had, about the love that sustained me through the darkest of times."

She paused, her eyes filled with a deep, unwavering certainty. "I don't remember all of my lives - not yet. But the memories are coming back, especially those of my first life. The life where I was born my true self." Deanna sighed deeply.

"What does that mean?" asked Gràís. "I have heard and seen that something was different about you when you were born, different from what I am. Mother said something about finding your true identity."

Again Deanna sighed deeply, her eyes misted with time. "Yes. In every other life that I can recall, I was born different." She turned her gaze back upon Gràís and smiled, "it is something that will teach you a lot about yourself, about me. In each life, that I can recall, I was born with a condition where my gender identity did not match the physical aspects of me..."

"I am not sure what you mean."

"Let's just say the body I was born with had masculine physical aspects," Deanna then pointed to her head, "but in here, my identity has always been the same as you, a girl. It is not the easiest path to live through and you have to reconcile a great many things, but it is a journey of growth and you learn every single aspect of yourself during it. What I do remember of many, are the battles, the crucibles... but I also remember the moments of joy, the laughter, the love. Those are the memories that kept me going, that reminded me why I fought so hard."

Gràís felt a flicker of hope stir within her. "But what about the darkness? How do I keep it from taking over?"

Deanna's smile was gentle as she answered. "There is darkness within all of us, Gràís. It's a part of being alive. But with our lives, there is a greater darkness that does seek to gain advantage, that is the darkness we were created to fight. But none of it can keep control if you do not allow it. You have a choice - you can let your personal darkness consume you, or you can use it as a source of strength to battle the darkness without. As our parents have said many times, you are stronger than you know, and you have the power to shape your future, to choose the path you walk."

At that moment, Gràís sensed another presence nearby - one that was both familiar and comforting. She turned to see Elena standing a few paces away, her vibrant ginger hair gleaming in the dim light of the vision. Her emerald eyes were filled with warmth and love as she looked at Gràís, then at Deanna.

Elena stepped forward, placing a hand on Deanna's shoulder. "Gràís, you are not alone in anything. Deanna has faced many challenges, but she did not do that alone. I was with her throughout everything she suffered, just as I will be there with you."

Gràís looked between the two women, her heart swelling with emotion. "But... how can I be sure? How can I know that I won't fail?"

Deanna squeezed Gràís's shoulder gently. "The future if fluid, little one. It's not fixed, and it can be shaped by the choices you make. You have the strength to forge your own path, to make it a triumphant one. And you don't have to do it alone. Just as Elena was there for me, she will be there for you, as will many others who love and care for you. But ultimately, you choose your life's course."

A soft smile tugged at Deanna's lips as she glanced at Elena. "And I don't regret the pain and challenges I've faced. For without them, I wouldn't have recognized the greatest love I could ever have. Elena was with me through everything - through every battle, every loss, every victory. She was always there, even when I didn't know it. And she'll be there with you too."

Elena's gaze softened, and she nodded in agreement. "You are part of something much greater, Gràís. The love that connects us is timeless, unbreakable. It will guide you, protect you, and give you the strength to overcome anything."

Gràís felt tears welling in her eyes, but they were tears of relief, of understanding. She looked at Deanna and Elena, feeling the bond that connected them, that connected her to them, across time and space.

"Thank you," Gràís whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I won't forget this. I'll do my best, I promise."

Deanna smiled, her eyes filled with pride. "That's all anyone can ask, little one. And remember - no matter what happens, you are loved. That love will always be your greatest strength."

With those words, the vision began to fade, the landscape dissolving into a warm, golden light that enveloped Gràís. As the light grew brighter, she felt herself being pulled back to her present, back to the sacred grove where the ritual had begun.

When Gràís opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the grove once more, surrounded by the ancient trees and the soothing presence of the Elven Queens, Isolde and Lethwyn, her grandmothers. The ritual had ended, but the echoes of the visions lingered in her mind, filling her with a new sense of purpose and determination.

Aryndra and Antor stood nearby, their faces filled with concern and love. The approached their daughter, enveloping her in a protective embrace.

"Are you all right, my love?" Aryndra asked softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Gràís nodded, her heart still heavy with the weight of the visions, but also filled with a newfound clarity. "I'm okay, Mama. I saw... I saw Deanna, in the future. She spoke to me, remembered me and told me her name in the future is Gràis Dhè MacBhàtair."

Aryndra gasped softly, placing a hand over her heart. "She remembers?"

Gràís nodded. "She remembers so much, Mama. She remembered me, you and father. I saw how much love is in her life. And I saw her marry her beloved." Gràís grinned, "And you and father were present for it."

"What else, little one?" Antor asked gently.

"She told me I have the strength to face whatever comes, and that I will never be alone, Elena will always be a part of who we are."

Antor's gaze softened, and he placed a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You do, Gràís. You have the strength of your ancestors, the love of your family, and the wisdom of those who came before you. We will be with you as well, even when only in spirit, you will carry us, always."

Gràís looked up at her parents, feeling the warmth of their love and support surrounding her. She knew now that she was not along, that she did indeed have the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And she knew they would be a long time in coming. And with Deanna and Elena's words still echoing in her mind, she felt a renewed sense of hope - a hope that the future would not be all bad, and that she could triumph over darkness.

As the day drew to a close, Gràís found herself standing by the large, arched window of her chambers in the Elven palace. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of pine and the faintest hint of blooming night jasmine from the gardens below. The moon was high in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the palace and the surrounding city and forest, creating a serene and almost otherworldly atmosphere.

The Elven palace, nestled within the ancient woodland, was a marvelous place for reflection. From her vantage point, Gràís could see the vast expanse of the Elven forest, stretching out into the horizon. The treetops formed a sea of deep green and silver, gently swaying in the night breeze. The stars above twinkled brightly, their light undisturbed by the glow of large human cities. Each star seemed to pulse with its own life, a reminder of the countless worlds and possibilities that lay beyond the reach of even the most ancient Elven wisdom.

Gràís gazed up at the night sky, her heart filled with a sense of wonder and longing. The stars had always fascinated her, ever since she was young enough to see them. They were like distant, mysterious friends, always watching over her, always present int he dark of night. But now, after the visions she had experienced in the sacred grove, the stars seemed to hold an even deeper significance.

She didn't fully understand the dreams, the visions of Deanna, or the conversations they had shared. There was a part of her that felt as if she were caught between two worlds - one as Gràís, a young girl still learning her place in the world, and another as Deanna, a battle-hardened warrior who had lived through countless lives and faced unimaginable challenges. The connection between them was undeniable, but its full reason still eluded her, shrouded in mystery.

As she stood there, lost in thought, Gràís's gaze drifted to a particularly bright star near the horizon. It seemed to shine more brilliantly than the others, its light piercing through the darkness like a beacon. For a moment, she felt as if the star was calling out to her, urging her to look deeper, to understand the secrets hidden within her soul.

She wondered about the future - about what her life as Gràís would hold and how it would shape the woman she had seen as Deanna. The visions had shown her glimpses of pain and triumph, of darkness and light. But they had also shown her love - love that transcended time and space, that connected her to Elena and to those who came before her.

Gràís felt a quiet resolve settle within her. She didn't have all the answers, and perhaps she never would. But she knew that the dreams were important, that they were guiding her towards something greater than herself. They were a reminder that her journey was just beginning, that there was still so much more to discover, to learn, to experience.

The final lines of the visions echoed in her mind, filling her with a sense of anticipation and hope. She wasn't afraid of the future - she was ready to face it, whatever it might bring. The connection between her current life and her future as Deanna was still much of a mystery, but it was a mystery she was eager to unravel, one step at a time.

As the night deepened, Gràís let out a soft sigh and leaned against the windowsill, her eyes still fixed on the starry sky. The stars, with their infinite possibilities, seemed to whisper to her, promising that the journey ahead would be filled with challenges and triumphs, with pain and love, just as Deanna had experienced.

But for now, Gràís was content to simply gaze at the stars, to let their light wash over her and fill her with a sense of peace. She didn't need to understand everything right away. The answers would come in time, as they always did. And when they did, she would be ready.

The night stretched on, the stars continuing their silent dance across the sky. And as Gràís stood there, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, she felt a quiet, unspoken connection to the woman she would one day become - a connection that filled her with a sense of purpose and a deep, abiding love that would guide her through all the days to come.

In the silence of the night, beneath the endless expanse of the Elven sky, Gràís made a silent vow to herself and to the stars above: no matter what the future held, she would face it with courage, with strength, and with the love that had been passed down to her through the ages.

And with that, the young girl who was destined to become a warrior and a leader, who would face challenges beyond her wildest imagination, finally allowed herself to rest, her heart at peace, her spirit ready for the journey ahead.

As she got into bed and drifted off to sleep, the stars continued to shine brightly above, keeping their silent vigil over the Elven palace, over Gràís, and over the future that awaited her - a future filled with mystery, with wonder, and with the promise of a love that would endure through the ages.