It feels familiar, this place, but she cannot recall why. The feeling that settles inside her is that of deja-vu; it is as if she dreamt this place, envisioned what would happen, but she lost it just like dreams usually fade - and yet the place, the view she currently has, is familiar enough to stir feelings of vague recognition.

The waves crash behind her, disrupting the calm that has settled inside the moonlit, alabaster mare. The thing is, she is not going to remember anything else. She’s been here for hours, and nothing new came to her but the odd feeling that she has been here before, that she has seen this place - no, this very instant in time. She doesn’t even remember that she has such visions often - that she was gifted with this precognition long before, after helping to save an ice queen; no, an unknown really. The ice queen had wanted the healing stone not for herself.

But the white mare doesn’t remember. She has taken in the sound of the waves, the tiniest movements the stars make, the path of the moon through the sky; as if stirred by the moon’s descent, only then does she start moving, and leaves behind the cold waves of the Beach. Leaves behind a death she doesn’t remember she just escaped. A turbulent life, meddling with politics - a sacrifice she had been willing to make; all of it is left behind.

She doesn’t remember dying, doesn’t remember if it was a beast or horse that took her, accident or murder - and she doesn’t need to know, even if she knew she has been dead.

The sun is coming up, and a moon-coloured mare makes her way from the grey sea behind her, towards the colorful lands of Beqanna.