The silent haven of the royal library's darkly lighted chamber was where the smell of old parchment mixed with the murmurs of bygone ages. Standing among the tall bookcases was the time-traveled noblewoman Rishe Irmgard Weitzner, holding an open book in her hands. Her sea-green eyes searched the ancient books in front of her, burning with the same need for knowledge that had propelled her through many lives. "Every page contains a fragment of the puzzle," she said to herself, her voice almost audible over the room's revered silence. "A clue to prevent the war, to understand Arnold, and perhaps, to unravel the secret of my own existence."