States of Resemblance — 2. Kassandra

It happened while she drifted through a slow meander of visions: a palace atop the Akropolis, golden banners swaying in the wind, blood pooling on the flagstones of the agora as soldiers cut out the tongues of collared slaves, a dark-haired woman kneeling naked by a throne of black marble. The woman's head was bowed, and an iron chain ran from the collar around her neck to the armrest of the throne, and when Kassandra wrenched on the leash with a black-gloved hand she felt a familiar stirring of pleasure as her slave's face came into view—

She heaved herself away from the vision's grasp and woke in a sanctum gone mostly dark except for the glow of the golden orb under her hand. Her torch was out. How long had it been since she'd touched the Sphere?