I want until Alister has left to think about what happened. I let out a sigh of relief when he does. Your face in Aediion is so readable that I was surprised he didn't call me out on my lie the moment I made them. I conjure up a chair and sit down, pondering what he source of my flashbacks are. It didn't seem like there was any noticeable pattern to them. I had seen scenes from my childhood, school at Oden's Ford, and memories of my time at court. There didn't seem to be a trigger for them either. I had mostly had them when I was alone and doing all sorts of different activities, and I just had one while training Alister now. So what were these things, and how could I fix them? Unless I was just going mad from being stuck in the jinxpiece and Aediion for a thousand years with virtually no human contact. Then I might not have a way to solve them.

I suddenly remember the last time I saw Lucas Fraser, saying "He didn't believe in impossible. If there were barriers, he'd find a way around, or through, or over."

I didn't agree with him on a lot of things that day, but what he said then was one thing I did. I didn't believe in impossible. If there was a problem, I could solve it. So how could I fix my flashbacks? I'd have to research more on prolonged time spent in Aediion… But I couldn't, because no one had ever spent this much time in Aediion. Blood and bones, I didn't even have a body for anyone to examine!

So I had no way of studying accounts of past cases because there weren't any, no way of asking for others' ideas – not they there would have been any – and no way of safeguarding myself because I had no flash. At this point, I'm so agitated that I start pacing. My only way of learning about my condition is whatever has happened and will happen to me. This will be nearly impossible though, as I cannot tell a flashback from the actual event!

I groan in frustration and conjure up another chair for me to sit in. Calming myself with a cup of blue ruin, I cast my mind back to my first episode a few months ago…

I was preparing a lesson on defensive charms for Alister when I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was at Oden's Ford listening to Master Vailhart giving a lecture on healing using high magic with a bunch of other students.

"The art of healing is one of the most prestigious in the Seven Realms," he droned. "Healing is an ancient profession, used all the way back before wizards had come from the Northern Islands…"

I feel someone tap my shoulder. I twist around in my seat to see a boy with reddish-brown hair sitting behind me with a look of boredom on his face. "A rather long-winded fellow isn't he?" he remarks.

I smirk in reply and whisper back, "I don't know whether or not that's a true fact or the understatement of the century."

He snickers under his breath. "What's your name?" the boy inquired.

"Alger. Alger Waterlow. You?"

"Lucas Fraser," he said, smiling back at me.