There were parts of the cycle that I was intimately familiar with. And a part of me was sad that I was neither surprised, nor horrified at the splashes of blood and bone that Grandmother smashed against my barriers. I returned in kind, my imagery fueled by experience. Even when I was placed in the visions, as either villain or victim, I could remain detached and ignore my roiling stomach.

No, it was the happier images that would give me pause. Children laughing in the sun, being hugged by parents, sleeping peacefully in soft and safe beds…within me She trembled and I heard her sobbing.

I felt my shields weakening as my attention divided. Frustration filled me, Grandmother would win the round, again. She sighed and said, Until you regain yourself, you will never find your full strength.

I refrained from answering and tried my best to build my final image. Something that could have been from her memory…

And suddenly there was the girl, Valentina, arms akimbo looking up at me, What are you doing?