The Protector

"Just stay calm! I'm not going to hurt you," the man seemed relaxed for the first time since he had entered Daisy's home.

"I wish I could say the same to you," Daisy held her ground.

The lock behind them slowly clicked freeing the front door. Daisy's mother instantly appeared in the threshold wearing a polka dot nursing scrubs and bright green handbag across her shoulder. She must have changed from her blue scrubs at the hospital. The two remained frozen in their positions unwilling to budge as Daisy's mother walked to the mail that rested at the edge of the kitchen counter. It was not until her mother slowly turned towards the living room that Daisy and the stranger were brought into her line of sight.

"Daisy! What on earth?" the stack of envelopes in her mother's hands fell to the linoleum floor. Daisy's mother jumped back striking her now free hand against her chest.

"Mom, stay back!" Daisy shouted to her mother.

"Daisy, dear, put down that knife before you hurt someone," her mother ordered, "That is no way to treat a guest in this house."

"He is hardly a guest!" Daisy protested. She was surprised by her mother's response to the situation.

"Nikolai, please ignore my daughter's horrible manners," her mother shook the stranger's hand, and then guided him to an open place on their living room sofa, "I assure you she did not learn those manners from me."

Daisy could not believe what she was seeing. She finally turned the knife back into a paintbrush but insisted on keeping her distance.

"Neat trick," the stranger commented, his expression remained somber as he accepted Daisy's mother's offer of iced tea, "It's good to see you again Mrs. Andrews."

"Would someone please tell me what is going on?" Daisy quickly became frustrated as her mother continued to carry on a friendly conversation with this intruder. Daisy had never met this man. Yet, her mother treated him as though he had known them his whole life.

"Daisy, dear, I would like to introduce you to Nikolai Aleksandr Smirnov, an old friend of the family," her mother presented the stranger sitting in front of them. The stranger could sense Daisy's uneasiness as soon as her mother once again left the room.

"Mrs. Andrews," Nikolai called from the living room, "Perhaps it would help ease the tension if you explain to Daisy why I have come."

"I suppose you are right," Daisy's mother sighed in response to the confused frustration across her daughter's face, "Please, take a seat, dear."

Daisy pulled up a sofa cushion on the opposite end of the stranger.

"It all began with the first heirs to the Kingdom of Scelta. Would you like more tea Nik?" Daisy's mother held the pitcher of unsweetened tea above the stranger's glass.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Andrews," the stranger was particularly well-mannered and disciplined for an intruder.

"What was I saying?" Daisy's mother returned the pitcher to its designated refrigerator shelf, "Oh, that's right. At first it was as if everything was the same as it had been. The heirs gained the proper education and training in preparation to take over the Sceltan throne."

"But as the heirs reached their teenage years, everything changed," Daisy's mother joined Daisy and Nik reducing the gap between them, "It was noticed by King Edward I that a new gift had begun to develop throughout the Sceltan community, a gift that would allow certain individuals the ability to prevent harm to the heirs of the throne. To this day, it remains the most honored gift in the history of Scelta. King Edward called them Protectors."

"What exactly does that mean, prevent them from harm?" Daisy hung on her mother's every word. It was as though she was once again five years old, sitting on her mother's lap, begging her to read just one more story. The stranger, on the other hand, sat quietly sipping from his cup of tea. In contrast to Daisy, he seemed to speak only when directly spoken to.

"This person...this Protector," her mother explained, "can sense any danger that comes the heir's way before it occurs using a method known only to them. Many have died trying to learn a Protector's secrets."

"After learning of this new gift, King Edward gave each of his children their separate Protector in order to insure their safety," Daisy's mother continued, "Only when one of his children took over the power to the throne would the Protectors' gift cease to exist."

"I don't get it," Daisy interrupted again, "What does any of this have to do with me...or people breaking into our house in the middle of the night?"

"Well," her mother hesitated, "I guess now would be as good of time as any to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Daisy urged.

Daisy's mother hesitated, "That King Edward I was your great great great grandfather."

"I'm sorry?" Daisy was unsure if she had heard her mother correctly.

"You are an heir to the Sceltan throne," her mother tried again, "and Nikolai, here, is your Protector."

Strange Encounters Cont...

Daisy shaded the water on her drawing. Her mother was once again working the late shift, but Daisy had become used to this. It was part of the job. Yet, despite her age, being home alone during the night was not something Daisy encouraged often.

She scanned the safari atmosphere she had created just a week before. Zebras, elephants, and tigers emerged from every direction. Daisy brushed her hand lightly across the bumpy service of her bedroom wall. The mixture of brown and red streaks that created the lion's mane became a beautiful ocean blue. Daisy's mother had always encouraged her to express her creativity. This usually meant a weekly change in scenery for her room. She stood back and closed her eyes creating an image in her mind of the new world she desired. Got it.

Daisy traded her laptop music for that of her portable music player. She placed the earphones in her ears and went to work. Tigers and zebras became dolphins and whales. Dusty browns transformed into calm, wavy blues.

She was just placing the finishing touches on her wall of art, when Daisy heard a couple of cupboards slam from the kitchen. She pulled the earphones from her head. Strange. She always heard her mother's car pull into the driveway and that sounded more like rummaging. Daisy grabbed two pencils from the desk, closed her eyes, and felt a sharp cold metal form in the palm of each hand. She slowly edged down the staircase as quietly as she could until she reached the bottom of the staircase. Daisy turned to face the kitchen.

"Drop the knife," Daisy heard a low, rough voice behind her. She slowly turned to face him. The lamps that lined the city streets provided just enough light to outline a shadow of an unusually short man. Through the darkness, however, nothing else could be revealed.

"Just take what you came for and leave," the metal within Daisy's hands began to shake.

"I came for you," the man smirked. Daisy froze. Her eyes darted to the dark figure slowly approaching the intruder from behind. The intruder seemed to notice the change in Daisy's stare. The smirk across his face grew larger as he vanished at the exact moment the dark figure attempted to retaliate with a wooden board.

"Whoever you are..."Daisy called to the empty darkness. The figure had disappeared into the shadows of the room making him impossible for Daisy to see.

"Shhh," the new stranger cut her off and reappeared at her side.

"Just..." Daisy started again.

"Quiet!" his voice was more stern as he closed his eyes, "I'm new at this. I have to concentrate."

For some reason she did not understand, Daisy did as she was told. Everything became uncomfortably still. It felt as though time itself had stopped.

"Alright, we're safe now," the stranger breathed a sigh of relief.

"Who are you?" Daisy demanded still clutching both knives tightly. This time her hands did not shake.

Strange Encounters Cont...

"Why would a full time author work at an orphanage for over eighteen years?" Anna was once again in the driver's seat. After two hours and over six thousand search results, the girls had finally made progress on Ashling's old administrator. Unfortunately the university library only carried books for university research. The girls had to travel forty five minutes to find a library with Mr. Watson's novels.

"Is it just me, or did it get dark really fast?" Ashling looked through the fog on her window, "Almost too fast."

"Huh?" her roommate had been so focused on the author she had not even noticed the change in the sky.

"Those winds are strong, and it looks like it's about to hail," Ashling suggested, "Maybe, we should look for a place to stop."

"Where exactly would you like to stop?" Anna asked, "We're surrounded by country."

"I've read about this...when I was in junior high," Ashling began, "We were studying weather indicators in environmental science class. Man, I got stuck with this one partner who..."

"Perhaps for the moment, it would be better to stay focused on the weather," Anna interrupted as hard golf ball sized hail began pounding on the windshield.

"Right, sorry," Ashling continued, "Anyway, based on the clouds, the wind speed, and the change in fronts, I would say we're going to see a true Iowa tornado anytime now."

"Like that one?" Anna pointed out the front window to the field straight ahead. The base of the tornado was as wide as the farm house just across the way.

"Take that side road," Ashling pointed five feet ahead towards the right shoulder. Her roommate took a sharp, quick turn a little too fast. Backpacks and tissue boxes slid every which way, Ashling along with them.

"Now would be a good time to use that excessive speed you like so much," Ashling commented. The wheels of the car rolled faster and faster against the small rock. The winds picked up speed causing a swarm of dust to surround the green painted metal exterior. Everything for miles was cornfield after soybean field after cornfield. Bales of hay and farm equipment was all that remained in the deserted land.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like this tornado is following us?" Ashling grabbed the sides of the car in order to steady herself. Her roommate focused on dodging obstacles. Through the foggy distance, the girls watched as a large object rolled across the road.

"What...is...that?" Anna peered through what little visibility she had.

"Left! Left! Left!" Ashling shouted. The windrower came into perfect view as the car barely skidded by.

"I think we have some debri," Ashling calmly remarked.

"Debri!" Anna shouted, "It's raining farm equipment."

"Right! Right!" Ashling looked futher ahead. Anna quickly swerved the car right past three bales of hay.

"Left!" Ashling yelled again. This time a large tractor.

"We have to get off this road!" Anna took another fast turn onto the next paved highway. Everything blurred as the car reached maximum speeds. It was another ten miles before Anna felt it was safe enough to reduce her speed. The tornado seemed to have disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Well, that was...interesting," Ashling finally broke the stunned silence.

"What just happened?" Anna tightly clutched the steering wheel in front of her.

"I know this is probably not the time..." Anna began, "but, where are we?"

Strange Encounters

The streets of New York City were more crowded than ever. After three weeks in the city, Melodie was ready for a change. She glanced over the times on the subway schedule. Melodie had a few more places she wanted to see before moving on to her next adventure. Her European trip seemed a lifetime ago, and so far, she had not encountered problems with weird accents or languages since landing in New York. Maybe it was just a figment of her imagination.

A crowd flooded the station on that particular evening. Everyone was determined to reach their final destination first. Melodie pushed her way through the massive amounts of people towards the designated subway car. An Asian couple bumped Melodie on her left side just as a mother and little girl passed Melodie on the right. The same pain she had felt before instantly came rushing back through her head.

When Melodie finally opened her eyes, she found a strange young boy not much older than herself staring back at her. She glanced around the room trying to remember what had happened. Melodie's head ached worse than ever.

"Where am I?" her throat was dry making it difficult to speak.

"You're safe here," the voice assured her. His words contained another accent she had never heard before.

"Just relax. The sooner you rest, the sooner your head will fell better," the boy left her side and wandered into the next room.

Melodie could get the full impact of her surroundings now. Paintings, drawings, and sketches layered every inch of the walls. Each work of art represented a unique place, a unique culture and atmosphere, many of which Melodie recognized from her travels. Yet, all of them had the same signature scribbled in the lower right hand corner, D. Andrews. The boy returned quickly as Melodie rushed back to her original location. His hands tightly formed around a glass full of an unfamiliar liquid.

"Not thirsty," Melodie slowly sat up.

"Drink it. It will make you feel better," the boy held the glass out as an attempt to force it into Melodie's hands, but she remained motionless.

"Suit yourself," the boy replied placing the glass instead on the carpet next to the couch she had been resting on.

"Where'd you get the paintings?" Melodie awkwardly interrogated the stranger in front of her.

"There a friend's," he avoided the question, "Sure I can't get you anything?"

"No, thanks," Melodie shifted her body to the end of the couch, "Well, this has been fun, but I think I'm going to be on my way now."

"Go right ahead," a grin spread across the boy's face. Melodie pushed herself up off the sofa grabbing the arms for support and balance. As she started to walk on her own, her legs became weak beneath her and wobbled uncontrollably until she fell back onto the couch.

"Maybe you'd like to stay awhile longer?" the boy laughed.

"Well, if you insist," Melodie leaned back against the couch, picked up the glass from the floor and began drinking, "I'm Melodie."

"I know," the boy stated, "I"m J.C."

Looking for Answers cont...

"So, do you remember anything about where you grew up?" Anna focused her eyes on the road that lie in front of her as she flew through the Iowa country. It seemed that growing up on a farm had given Ashling's roommate the ability to navigate country roads at quick speeds without any effort.

"I remember everything," Ashling responded, "That is before everything changed. We'll have to sneak in the South entrance. That's where the administration office is. They have a security system at the entrance of the facility, but that shouldn't be a problem. I did a science project on code and safe cracking when I was in the fifth grade. I had a lot of interesting success until I was caught by Mr. Watson. He was a real stickler when it came to rules and discipline. I got to know him well. Anyway, compared to the other systems I practiced on, their system should be a piece of cake."

By the time the girls reached the orphanage, the sun had disappeared into the horizon. The orphanage was just as Ashling remembered, old brick buildings surrounded by miles and miles of corn fields. It was an unusual concept to have such an establishment built in the middle of country instead of the city. But the land had come plentiful and free, a price the state just could not refuse. So, here it remained as though nothing had changed in the last five years. As far as Ashling's memory was concerned, nothing had changed.

"Park there," Ashling ordered, "That way no one will see our car."

Anna did as she was told. She placed the car in park, and waited for Ashling's instructions.

"It's past eight. They're long gone by now," Ashling looked at her watch, "We should probably stay towards the South entrance, though. They always have someone keeping watch at night outside the sleeping quarters. You're sure you want to go through with this?"

"Oh yeah. I'm sure," Anna opened her car door and gently placed it shut. Ashling followed her roommate. The grass crunched lightly beneath their feet despite their attempt to keep quiet as they reached the back entrance where the alarm system hung. The chill of the fall evening rushed through what thin layer of jacket Ashling had brought along.

"Ok, do your thing," Anna ordered.

"Hold on. Let me think," Ashling whispered.

"Take your time," Anna responded softly after Ashling had remained quiet for a few minutes, "It's not like we're on any time constraints or anything... "

"I think I got it," Ashling began punching in numbers. The door made a clicking sound as both girls squeezed through the opening, closing the door securely behind them.

"Can't remember what you had for breakfast, but you remember what you read in a book over eight years ago," Anna responded.

"Crazy I know. Don't touch the lights!" Ashling whispered loudly.

"Sorry, habit," Anna walked over to the administrator's desk and quietly began searching through the drawers.

"What are you doing?" Ashling became anxious. They did not have much time.

"Here," Anna handed Ashling a sticky notepad and pen, "So, we don't forget the code when we need to get out."

Ashling wrote the numbers she had pressed to disarm the lock. Her roommate had immediately directed her path towards the file cabinet that rested near the current administrator's desk. Seeing this, Ashling snuck away to explore the contents of the office. Picture frames, furniture, everything was just as she remembered. Only the photos in the frames and the mementos on the desk were different. A loud thud echoed throughout the room bringing Ashling back to the task at hand. It was a tight fit, but her roommate had managed to yank the folder out of the cabinet at the expense of dropping a few others to the floor. The contents of the top folder had scattered.

"Nothing," Anna whispered.

"What?" Ashling walked back towards her roommate.

"It doesn't tell us anything," she flipped through Ashling's file, "Look here. It says that your mom left you on the doorstep of the orphanage."

"How do you know it was my mom?" Ashling asked.

"Because it says she left a note along with you," Anna followed the words with her finger.

"Seriously? They never told me that," Ashling grabbed the papers from her roommate and started flipping through the remaining contents of the folder, "Where is it?"

"Not in here," Anna closed the file and placed it back in its original position. Ashling kneeled to help her roommate pick up the remaining files spread across the floor but stopped when she saw one of the open files.

"What's up?" Anna whispered.

"This is Mr. Watson's file," Ashling put the two folders that were still in tact on top of the filing cabinet and gathered up the loose papers that remain on the floor.

"He was one of the top administrators of the orphanage when I was living here," Ashling informed her roommate.

"Yeah, you've mentioned him," Anna reminded Ashling, "So what's so weird about that?"

Ashling saw that it was Anna who was becoming anxious now. They had been in the office too long. Someone was bound to notice something.

"I'm not sure yet," Ashling paused to flip the paper.

"We gotta go," Anna had heard a sound in the distance that sounded like trouble. Anna grabbed the papers from Ashling's hands and shoved them in the filing cabinet. Ashling grabbed the sticky note from the desk and tore off the one with the alarm code. She then wrote her old administrator's current address and removed that sticky while her roommate dropped the key behind the filing cabinet. The girls punched in the alarm code and then disappeared into the darkness.

"That was close," Anna's adrenaline made her drive at a dangerous speed.

"Slow down," Ashling ordered and she felt the car gradually slow to a more comfortable speed.

"At least I grabbed this," Ashling waved the address at her friend.

"We'll google him," Anna turned up the music as they both traveled the remainder of the trip in silence.

Looking for Answers

"What is that?" Anna asked. Both girls had decided it would be best to rest for awhile after the long walk home from campus. Ashling laid the thick organizer across her legs. Random colors of sticky notes popped from every side while each page was covered in black marks, yellow highlights, and colored papers.

"My organizer," Ashling flipped to the current date.

"Seriously?" Anna hopped onto Ashling's mattress, "That thing is huge! What all do you put in that?"

"Everything of importance that I need to remember," Ashling begun writing as her roommate attempted to read the colored ink that took over the page.

"Why?" Anna asked.

"Because, while I may be able to see things that will happen, I have often found that seeing the past can be quite the challenge. Part of the tradeoff i suppose," Ashling finished, closed her organizer, and tossed it on top of her cluttered desk.

"Yeah, I've noticed," Anna teased, "So, you don't remember anything from the past?"

"Well, I remember everything I learned before obtaining...well whatever you'd call what I have. Other than that...let's just say you'd be surprised what the power of observation can provide. For instance, I know you're my roommate despite the fact that I don't ever remember meeting you because the key attached to the strap of your backpack has the same numbers engraved in it as the key I carry," Ashling pointed to Anna's keys while pulling her own out of her pocket.

"I'm Anna. We've actually met...many times," Anna reminded Ashling.

"I will never remember that," Ashling smiled.

"This could get really interesting," Anna jumped from Ashling's bed and back onto her own.

"So, where do we go from here?" Ashling moved the silver metal slinky from her nightstand back and forth between her hands. She had no explanation for it, but ever since she was a child, this simple little toy had calmed her nerves.

"I think it's time we found out more about our pasts...our family...our parents," Anna began lightly bouncing a bright yellow tennis ball from the ceiling into the palms of her hands. All semester the neighbors above them had been driving Anna crazy with their heavy walking and loud unexpected thuds that shook the entire dorm room.

"How do we do that? I grew up in the system," Ashling reminded her roommate.

"I don't know. I don't know much either. I tried to ask my adoptive parents about my real parents once, but that didn't go so well," Anna trailed off as a quiet spell overcame the room, amplifying the sound from above, "They gotta have records and whatnot."

"Who?" Ashling questioned.

"The place where you grew up," Anna answered, "It's required right? Can't you ask to see those files?"

"They're locked and sealed. It was a closed adoption. I tried to get a peek once when I was younger, but the director, Mr. Watson, caught me. He said no one's allowed that kind of information," Ashling explained.

"Well...we could accept that, or..." Anna sat up turning her body towards Ashling.

"Or what?" Ashling was hesitant. The look on her roommate's face indicated that only trouble lie ahead.

"Or we could just get the information ourselves," Anna finished.

"You want to break into the orphanage?" Ashling clarified her roommate's request.

"I am tired of unanswered questions," Anna defended, "Up until I met you, I always thought I was alone...that I was some sort of freak or something. But now...seeing what you can do...maybe we're not the only ones. Maybe there's a whole group of people out there just like us. Don't you want to know where you came from? Why you are the way you are?"

The effects of her ability had never really bothered Ashling, probably because she was never able to remember them. Yet, now, sitting here with her roommate in their home, Ashling could see all those effects in her roommate's eyes. Somehow, for the first time since receiving her ability, Ashling was able to sense those feelings too.

"Well, we'll have to map quest it. Lord knows I don't remember how to get there," Ashling caved. Anna smiled and jumped from the bed to prepare for their road trip.

Treaties and Compromise Cont...

Europe was only the beginning of Melodie's adventures. The plane wheels gently graced the cement runway before coming to a fast abrupt halt. Melodie used the force from her hand in order to avoid smashing into the seat in front of her.

"Welcome to New York City..." Melodie heard the airline attendant announce over the intercom. The voice began briefing the passengers on exiting procedures but Melodie's attention wandered outside of the aircraft. The airport scenery brushed by slower and slower as the aircraft circled around to its designated spot. Melodie watched as the workers scattered about in preparation for the flight's arrival.

"I just don't understand how you can throw away an opportunity this important," Melodie's grandmother shoved the tray of food into the stove.

"Mormor, I've told you. The university isn't for me," Melodie argued.

"It is not always about you young lady! Do you know how many Sweedish children would kill to be accepted to that American University...what's it called...?" Her grandmother waved the spatula in her hand towards Melodie's direction.

"Yale," Melodie shot her grandfather a glance. He had learned a long time ago that it was best to remain quiet when his two girls quarreled.

"That's right, Yale. Girls your age should be attending universities not gallivanting around the world," her grandmother dropped the spatula into the bowl a little harder than she had originally anticipated. She proceeded to take her frustration out on the golden syrup mixture. Knäck was Melodie's favorite Christmas treat, and no one could make it better than her grandmother.

"Mormor, I'll be fine," Melodie wrapped her arms tightly around her grandmother, "I'll send you a postcard from every place I see...I promise."

"Our sweet Melodie has been following her own rhythm since she could walk," Melodie's grandfather winked at her over his reading material, "I don't think there's any stopping her now, Ingrid."

"Every week," her grandmother finally caved, "We receive a postcard every week, or I'll track you down and drag you to Yale myself."

"Thank you Mormor," Melodie kissed her grandmother's cheek.

Melodie waited anxiously as the airline attendant wrapped up the farewell. She touched the tips of her fingers to the temples of her head still remembering the pain she had felt in Spain. Melodie had never fully understood why she had collapsed. When the seat belt light had finally disappeared, Melodie quickly pulled her backpack from under the seat and her duffle bag from the overhead compartment. Let the adventures begin.

Treaties and Compromise Cont...

"You can talk to animals?" Ashling followed Anna off the beaten path and onto one of the trails leading through the outskirts of campus.

"Yeah," Anna knew these trails well. This was one of the reasons she had picked this particular university. It was the only institution that contained both a beautiful campus and her chose major.

"Prove it," her roommate demanded. The girls walked deep into their surroundings until campus appeared very small. Anna knew they would not be bothered here.

"Should I be concerned that you're leading me blindly into the unknown?" Ashling questioned.

"From what I've seen, you're whole life is the unknown," Anna remarked.

"Fair enough," Ashling continued to follow.

Anna suddenly stopped and looked up to locate the Frisbee she had located just the day before between the branches of a very large oak tree.

"Looks like someone was playing ultimate," Anna nudged her roommate and began to walk off the trail and into the surrounding trees.

"What are you doing?" Ashling called after her.

"Just wait there," Anna ordered. She walked slowly towards a squirrel contently nibbling one of the many acorns that covered campus grounds.

"Excuse me," Anna spoke directly at the squirrel which cocked its head in her direction in response, "My friend lost her Frisbee in that tree up there. Would you mind helping us get it down?"

The squirrel surried off leaving the acorn in its place and ran straight up the tree. Anna followed him to the other side of the trail. The squirrel gave the Frisbee a little push with its head until it came loose and tumbled through the branches finally hitting the ground. Anna bent down to pick it up and headed back towards the pile of acorns. The squirrel had already beaten her to the spot.

"Thank you," Anna once again spoke directly at the squirrel, "If there is anything I can do to repay you..."

Anna was cut off by a high pitched squeaky sound.

"Of course," Anna threw the Frisbee to Ashling, picked up a pile of acorns, and headed further out of sight into the trees.

"Thanks again," Anna called when she finally returned to her roommate's side, "Well?"

"Nice," Ashling smiled.

Treaties and Compromise

Professor Alvarado interrupted the murmurs of the classroom as the students straggling in took their seats.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed your character assignments these past couple of weeks because your first assignment begins today," he pulled a handful of papers from his backpack and began distributing them to the class.

"You have two weeks to figure it out. This packet gives you everything you need to know about the other countries, or in your case, the other classes. You have China, Germany, Mexico, and Guatamala as countries you will have to work with. A word of advice, don't rely solely on the internet, news, or other sources such as these to make your decisions. These scenarios are completely hypothetical and your classmates have different backgrounds, motives, and personalities than the actual people in their positions.

You're assignment is to read over what your country knows about the others and decide what treaties or compromises if any you'd like to make. In your case, the Prime Minister must speak with every representative of the society before making a decision. Bring your answers two weeks from now. we meet that Monday night, not during our normal class time. you'll have surprise guests at this meeting. So, if you can't make it, see me after class. Good luck. If you have any questions, I'll be checking my e-mail regularly. Have a great weekend," the professor jumped from his desk as the students disbursed.

"What was your position again?" Ashling settled into the only cafeteria table available. It was busy for a Friday afternoon, quite a contrast to the rest of Ashling's week which seemed to pass quickly and uneventfully. After the meetings she had with other classmates, Ashling knew it was going to be a long lunch.

"Pub owner...for the fourth time," Anna smiled as she threw her books across from Ashling.

"Sorry, bad memory," Ashling pointed to herself.

"No kidding," Anna pulled out her international studies notebook, "So, here's what I'm thinking, from my standpoint anyway..."

Ashling had already stopped listening as her thoughts instead drifted to the two boys talking at the table diagonal from them. The sitting boy had just finished his food and judging by the advanced physics book occupying half of his tray, spent more time on campus than off. The standing boy, on the other hand, had just purchased his food. Judging by the way he gestured with his tray, he had clearly never looked at a physics book.

"Ashling, are you paying attention to me?" Anna reached across the table to hit her roommat'e arm.

"What?" Ashling jolted her attention back to her roommate.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" Anna demanded.

"No, sorry, I was distracted by..." Ashling pushed herself away from the table as food flew across Anna and all their school materials. The boy who had once been standing now lay flat on his back with his tray and the remainder of his food on top of him.

"Pub owner...for the fourth time," Anna smiled, but her face quickly turned serious, "Are you okay? You have a weird expression on your face."

"What? Yeah, sorry, bad memory," Ashling pointed to herself.

"No kidding," Anna looked skeptically at Ashling as she pulled out her international studies notebook," so here's what I'm thinking, from my standpoint anyway..."

Once again Ashling's mind drifted, but this time it was looking for something different.

"Ashling are you paying attention to me?" Anna reached across the table and hit her roommate's arm.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...hey, move away from the table," Ashling ordered as the standing boy began walking towards their table.

"What?" but Anna did not have time to think let alone react before Ashling kicked her roommate's chair into the person sitting behind her and pulled the table along with herself away from its original position. The boy slipped on the wet floor, fell flat on his back, and food flew where Ashling and Anna should have been.

"Woops, sorry guys," the boy pulled himself to his feet and attempted to brush off the food that had landed on his clothes, "lucky you moved."

"Yeah, lucky," Ashling replied. Anna quickly grabbed her books and pulled Ashling along with their school supplies until they reached the girl's bathroom.

"Out!" Anna yelled at the freshman washing her hands. Startled, the freshman quickly grabbed her backpack and slid from the room.

"What in the..." Ashling began.

"You're ...You're like me," Anna whispered.

"Crazy?" Ashling accused starting towards the exit.

"Different," Anna corrected while moving to block her roommate's path to the door, "What you just did is not normal."

"I saw water on the floor," Ashling defended herself.

"You spaced off," Anna accused, "and then you prevented what should have happened. Don't deny it! You've done it before...the same exact thing. You space out and then somehow prevent something that no one with a normal mind would be able to predict."

"You're delusional," Ashling pushed Anna out of her way and started for the exit for a second time.

"You have to believe me. I'm just like you," Anna tried again, "Well, not just like you. I mean, I can't see the future, but I also have an abnormal ability...I can talk to animals."

Ashling stopped immediately letting the open door slip from her hands. The door slowly closed as Ashling turned to face her roommate.

Senior Year cont...

Daisy listened to her mother's car skid from the driveway. She watched as model after model displayed their new creations. Daisy had always found modeling fascinating. Even with the most creative styles, the models were always able to move with such ease and poise. She pushed the table away from the couch with her feet, leaving just enough room to squeeze out.

It took all of Daisy's strength to pull the trash bag from the garbage can. Once again they had allowed it to pile up well beyond its limit. She dragged the bag to the side of the house where her mother kept the trash six days out of the week. The rolling hills, the layers of endless woods that surrounded Daisy's house were without a doubt exquisite. Daisy had spent countless afternoons admiring the landscape with her paintbrush. None of her paintings ever did them justice. Still, Daisy continued to attempt to capture the nature that was her home.

"Hello Mr. Bar," Daisy called to her neighbor. She had always thought he was a peculiar neighbor. Mr. Bar never really spoke much, which was odd since his profession was law. But, for some reason, within the last year, Mr. Bar had begun to warm up to Daisy and her mother.

"He...He...Hello, Da...Daisy," Mr. Bar stuttered. Daisy tossed the trash into the can and glanced across the street. There it sat, the same black jeep parked in the same spot it had been parked for the third time that week.

"Creepy," Daisy whispered to herself as she ran back inside the house and locked the door tightly behind her.

The days began to pass quicker as the new season approached. The leaves outside Daisy's bedroom window had already begun to transform into vibrant colors, and some had even begun to blanket the earth. It seemed as though everything was preparing for a colder time. It was perfect for Daisy's upcoming assignments.

"Daisy, I'm home!" Daisy heard her mother call from the entryway. She turned off her play list and packed up her drawing materials. The time had flown by faster than Daisy had realized.

"I brought pizza," her mother shouted again. Her mother never was a big fan of cooking.

"Smells good!" Daisy skid into the kitchen and pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard, "How was work?"

"Slow, so good. How was your day?" her mother took a large bite of pizza.

"Uneventful, but that creepy guy was back again," Daisy responded.

"What creepy guy?" her mother put her slice of pizza back on the plate and reached for a napkin from the holder that sat in the middle of their meal.

"That guy...with the jeep. We've been seeing him all week. He just sits there staring at our side of the street. He's creepy," Daisy grabbed another slice from the box.

"I'm sure he means no harm," her mother glanced at her watch, "Oops, I gotta run. Sarah's son came down with a fever this morning. So, I'm pulling a double tonight."

"Bring on the coffee," Daisy filled her mother's cup as she headed out the door for a second time.

"Love you sweetie. Lock the door tight after I leave," she gave Daisy a quick hug.

"I'll work my magic," Daisy teased as she closed the door behind her mother.

Senior Year cont...

"Hey...mom...I'm back," Daisy dropped her backpack at the front door and grabbed a bag of popcorn from the top kitchen shelf. Exhausted from a long day of class, she did not hesitate before collapsing onto their living room sofa. After many drawing and painting accidents, Daisy's mother had finally caved and purchased a black sofa. This exclusive red and black color scheme always reminded Daisy of something that came straight from a home and garden catalog. Daisy grabbed the television remote and gently placed her feet on top of her mother's new coffee table. She began flipping through the channels; news...star wars...Daisy finally settled on the new hit fashion reality television show.

"How was class?" Daisy's mother set the overflowing basket of dirty laundry on the kitchen stool and walked towards the hallway that ran behind the two rooms.

"Eh, it was class. My professor liked my drawing, though. He wants me to enter into the contest next week," Daisy announced.

"That's great hunny!" her mother called from the hallway closet, "Oh shoot! I forgot laundry detergent at the store today."

"No worries, I got it," Daisy touched the red pillow next to her, closed her eyes, and a container of laundry detergent appeared.

"Here you go," she tossed the box to her mother.

"I never did like that pillow," her mother teased before disappearing into the laundry room.

Daisy and her mother had always had an open relationship about Daisy's "special gift" as her mother liked to call it. She had always been Daisy's biggest supporter. Unlike Daisy, her mother had grown up in Scelta, but was always careful not to share too many details. All Daisy knew was that Scelta had become a dark place and that everyone there was born with a gift. Hers was the gift of transformation. She had yet to learn her mother's.

Daisy's mother emerged from the basement dressed in scrubs. Daisy had always been proud of her mother's career choice; helping people everyday. She only hoped her paintings could one day do the same.

"Hey...mom?" Daisy called as her mother grabbed the keys and purse that sat next to Daisy's feet.

"What's wrong, hunny?" she asked.

"What's your...gift?" this was not the first time Daisy had asked, nor would it be the last.

"Hunny, when the time is right, I promise you will know," she smiled and kissed her daughter's forehead, "I'll see you later tonight. Don't forget to take out the trash."

Senior Year cont...

International Studies was not a class Ashling was particularly excited about, but it was required. When she finally reached the top of the second flight of stairs, Ashling double checked her numbers. The classroom was much too small for a required class. She pulled open the door to the dark, empty room and threw her backpack on the first available desk. Ashling placed her bright orange earphones back into her ears in order to drown out any excess noise. She had not quite adapted to the early morning start times. She slowly closed her eyes and rested her head on the cold, hard surface of the desk. It took a light tap on the shoulder to bring Ashling back to reality. She must have lost track of the time. When she looked up, Ashling found the classroom rapidly filling to its capacity and her roommate dropping books on the desk adjacent to her.

"What are the odds?" Anna pulled a notebook from her handbag. The door to the classroom slammed opened and their professor quickly appeared through the entryway. After he carefully placed his computer onto the small desk at the front of the room, the professor hung his backpack on the back of his chair and gently hopped up next to his laptop.

Professor Alvarado was young for a college professor. Yet, his reputation was no mystery for Ashling. Rumors of the exotic adventures and amazing discoveries of worldly cultures by the new addition to their university faculty floated continuously through the student body grapevine making it impossible for anyone on campus to remain oblivious to the workings of the famous professor Alvarado. Some said that Professor Alvarado had just returned from from a year long expedition in Australia. Others claimed it was a secluded rainforest. The only thing that everyone seemed to agree upon was his retirement from his dangerous expeditions in order to reveal important wisdom to a younger generation. All these remarkable accomplishments just made Alvarado's youth that much more surprising.

The appearance of their new professor was also astonishing. He looked as though he had just walked out of the graduation office yesterday. Instead of sporting the typical university dress attire of black pants and a formal shirt, Alvarado wore an old fadded concert t-shirt along with wholy jeans. His class contents safely rested in the worn green backpack that hung on the corner of a desk chair instead of a professional briefcase, and the stubble on his face suggested that Alvarado had not shaven in a couple of days. This professor was definitely a change from what Ashling had become accostomed to during her years at the university.

"Welcome to International Studies," the professor began, "I'm professor Alvarado. By now, you all should be familiar with the university bylaws. So, let's skip the formalities. You all can pick up the information packets on your way out."

Professor Alvarado placed a stack of papers on the other side of his laptop.

"So, International Studies. As you are all now aware, the large lecture has been broken up into small groups this semester, five small groups to be exact. It's a little experiment we are going to try. Make yourselves comfortable. Over the next four months, you all will become very familiar with each other. Each group represents a country," Alvarado grabbed another stack of papers from his backpack and jumped from the table.

"Your country is the United Kingdom. You each have your own place and purpose to the success of your country, and you will need each other to succeed in this class. This paper will tell you your position and everything it entails. Know it well, and keep it safe. you will need it throughout the entire semester," Alvarado read the paper that sat on top of the pile, "Anna, Ashling, come get your papers."

Ashling looked down at the paper that had been placed in her hands.

"Prime Minister?" she read to herself.

"Pub owner," Anna waved her paper. When the last occupation had been distributed, the professor once again took his place on top of the front desk.

"Your assignment for next class is to know your position backwards and forwards. Alright, enjoy your weekend, but don't have too much fun," he teased.

Senior Year cont...

The first couple days of class always seemed to be the longest. After hearing the same university policies as the day before, Ashling found Suduko was a better alternative to pass her time. She was doing better in her courses ever since she had developed a new system for remembering information. This mainly included the overuse of sticky notes. Ashling had also learned that if she read test material immediately before an exam, she could remember everything, just like old times.

She glanced up at the large projector that covered the entire front wall of the classroom. That was the benefits of attending a school of science and engineering. It was always up to date with the latest technology. Finacial Forcasting, Ashling read the large black letters. Well, at least she would be successful in this class. Ashling once again zoned out the professor's words in order to focus more on the world that surrounded her.

Throughout the years, Ashling had come to rely on the power of observation to make it through each day. She buried her head into the newspaper game that sprawled across the university desk in front of her. However, her eyes immediately focused on the girl sitting two seats to her left. Globs of gel held the dyed blonde curls tightly in tact and thick eye liner rested on top of a thick layer of makeup forming perfect black ovals around each eye. Ashling observed that a tight blouse and mini skirt provided a smooth, wrinkle free coating for the girl's body . That kind of preparation for a class at eight in the morning says something about a person.

Feeling the presence of Ashling's stare, the girl sent a quick expression in Ashling's direction. In an attempt to avoid eye contact, Ashling immediately turned her focus on the boy directly in front of her. He was placing the finishing touches on his doodle of the university mascot drawn in the upper right hand corner of his blank notebook. The head of the cardinal, however, was two sizes two large for the rest of its body. Obviously, he was not an artist...or an animal science major for that matter. Without warning, the boy slammed the notebook shut without any consideration for those around him and rose to his feet. He grabbed his belongings and followed the aisle through the exit. No one else seemed to notice his quick getaway. The professor's increased in volume startled Ashling as she shut down the projector and walked to the center of the classroom for a few last minute remarks.

"Alright, see you Wednesday," the professor finished. An uproar of voices immediately filled the auditorium as students rushed to leave, but Ashling remained behind as she pulled her class schedule from her backpack. International Studies, Pearson 214. Great, all the way across campus. Ashling packed up her bag and followed the last of the crowd through the exit.

Senior Year

The first day of college was like any other first day. Parents and students swarmed the city like bees protecting their hive making it impossible to move about. The freshmen were particularly easy to spot as they wandered blindly through the campus, their eyes glued to multiple campus maps. Ashling threw her duffle bag on top of the uncovered mattress and fell back onto her new bed. One more year, she kept telling herself. Despite the fact it was her fifth year at the university, Ashling had chosen campus housing for the first time. She figured this option would be easier than subleasing after graduation. After that, she had no idea where she would end up. With Ashling's gift, every day was a new adventure.

Still, Ashling was cautious about her new roommate. There were few people who truly appreciated her unusual behavior. Ashling had formed a tight bond with her friends from freshman year, but unfortunately all of them had actually graduated on time and had already moved on from the university. They had been the first real friends who had overlooked this unusual behavior, and Ashling knew it just would not be the same without them. The door slammed open startling Ashling as she fell from her bed.

"Hey," came a voice from beneath a pile of bags.

"Hey," Ashling replied pulling herself up off the floor. The bags slid off the new body forming a different pile next to the door.

Once free from all the extra baggage, it was easy for Ashling to analyze the girl's true traits. Her new roommate was tall and scrawny, quite a contrast from Ashling who was average all around. Her roommate's slightly curled brunette hair fell well beyond her shoulders only to lightly rest upon her back. The carefully constructed hair and makeup told Ashling that her new roommate had performed in many theatrical performances, and Ashling recalled the book she had read as a child that compared the techniques used in theatre, television, and cinema. Judging by her roommate's body mass in comparison to the lump of bags that continued to rest on the floor, it seemed impossible that her new roommate would be able to handle that much weight. It was obvious that in this case, body size was a misrepresentation of actual strength.

"I'm Anna," the girl reached out her hand.

"Ashling," Ashling reciprocated the gesture, "Do you need assistance moving in?"

"No, that's pretty much it, but thanks," Anna dragged her bags across the floor to her own bed and began unpacking.

The Gifts-Anna and Daisy

Anna

"You know, Anna, you really do have a gift," Goose flew from his post to her shoulder.

"Maybe. But there's a fine line between gift and curse," Anna replied as she continued to gently brush the mane of her horse, Lightning. It was a name the horse rightfully earned with its speed.

The barn had become Anna's sanctuary a long time ago. She had always found talking to animals a comforting way to relieve her problems. It was just recently, however, when the animals began to respond, something Anna did not always find comforting.

"Curse? How could you say that? How is us being friends a curse?" Goose demanded.

"Because you're a bird! Granted you're a parrot, but your vocal skills are not supposed to exceed repetition and mimicking," Anna turned to the parrot sitting on her shoulder, "not everyone can understand you, you know."

"You'd be surprised," her friend answered.

"Either way, from now on, let's keep the talking in public to a minimum. It won't help anyone if I'm sent to a room with padded walls, and after today, that's exactly where they're sending me," Anna patted Lightning and walked across the barn to return the brush to its shelf.

"She's got a point," Lightning defended Anna.

"Alright," Goose reluctantly agreed. He flapped from her shoulder just escaping as Anna closed the barn door behind them.

Daisy

Daisy twiddled the pencil between her fingers. What to draw? That was the assignment. She had loved to draw since she was a child. There was something about the way a simple combination of colors could transform into something incredible. Yet, for some reason, at this moment, her mind was drawing a blank...literally.

Daisy rested her head on the back of her mother's living room sofa and closed her tired eyes. The place that filled her mind was vaguely familiar, perhaps some place she had visited when she was a small child.

For as long as Daisy could remember, she had lived with her mother in this very house. Yet, she knew that her mother came from a different place, an entirely different world.

The ground beneath Daisy's boots was blanketed with fresh snow. Where had she gotten boots? It was never cold in this area of the world. Even after the soft substance crunched beneath her heavy boots, the snow remained smooth on the frozen grass's surface. Without hesitation, Daisy walked further enjoying every soft snowflake that fell on her face. She stopped, however, when the outline of a small log cabin suddenly appeared in the distance.

Daisy abruptly opened her eyes. The image seemed so real, but it had to be from a long time ago, a time she surely would not remember. When the drowsiness from her nap began to wear off, Daisy realized her hands were coated in many different colors but she could not locate her drawing materials. Daisy knew her mother would kill her if she once again got color all over their new sofa. She jolted upright nearly knocking the large picture off the couch.

"Woh!" what were once her drawing materials were now the place that had occupied her thoughts.

The Gifts-Melodie

Melodie jumped down onto the brown Spanish earth. Espana, the last stop on her European trip. After all her travels, she could not believe how many people knew her native language. It must be more common than she thought.

The Spanish heat was definitely a change from her small grandparents' hut in the north of Sweeden. She had never known her parents. She had learned of her parent's death at a young age. An unusual tragic accident is what her grandparents called it, but that is all they would ever say. Still, Melodie yearned to discover more about her family and th world she had been forced to leave behind.

"Excuse me. Do you know where the bus stop is?" Melodie felt a light tap on the top of her left shoulder. She turned to find a father holding his little girl in his arms. She had deep blue eyes and little blonde curls that bounced whenever her father shifted position. The mother firmly clutched the tiny hand of her little boy as he continuously tried to escape in every direction possible. With his dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, he was the spitting image of his father. There was something about that little boy, something oddly familiar. Yet, Melodie could not place what it was that had convinced her she had seen that family before. As far as Melodie knew, she was an only child, a trait she had inherited from her parents. It was a trait she had greatly come to enjoy, and to this day could not envision herself sharing the life she had with her grandparents.

"Um, it's over there, on Alfonso," Melodie brought her focus once again to the question that had been asked. The family left almost as immediately as they had arrived, but Melodie could not help but follow their movements with her eyes. How did she know them?

"Sabes tus direciones. Estas de esta parte de Espana?" the street vendor startled her.

"No, soy de Suecia. Pero viajo mucho," Melodie continued on her way. Scary how many people understood her language.

"No...that's...not...what...I'm...saying," Melodie overheard a man talking rather loudly across the way.

"Lo siento, senor, pero no entiendo..."

"I don't speak..." the men stated in unison.

All of a sudden Melodie could not concentrate. Her head began to throb uncontrollably.

"Oww...Ahh...!" she screamed. She could no longer bear the pain.

When Melodie finally was able to open her eyes, her head was still throbbing and full of confusion. From what she could make out through her squinting, the walls surrounding Melodie's current position were completely bright white. The bed beneath her was a harder surface than she was used to, and the room smelled as though it had been cleaned with sanitizer one too many times. This was definitely a dream unlike any other Melodie had ever experienced.

"X-ray and MRI is clear," Melodie heard a man with a thick Spanish accent appear from the entryway. That was odd. Melodie had heard accents on television and movie programs, but never in real life before.

"What happened?" the light made it difficult for Melodie to keep her eyes open.

"Man call ambulance. Said girl fell to ground holding head and screaming. Doesn't look serious, but will keep you overnight," the doctor responded.

The events of the street slowly began to reappear in Melodie's mind. How did she go from listening to a conversation to lying in a hospital bed, and what languages were those men speaking? She had never had problems understanding people before. Exhaustion overcame Melodie as she laid her head back on the pillow to fall asleep.

The Gifts-Ashling

Ashling

"Hey, Ashling," her friend called as she shoved her way through the crowded hallway.

"So, I was totally going to make it to class today, but something sort of came up...and...well, anyway, I can borrow notes from you, right?"

Skipping class was not unusual behavior for her friend. They were as opposite as night and day, but they had been best friends ever since their first day in the foster home together, and that relationship was not about to change anytime soon. A backpack strapped to her back and earphones jammed in her ears, her friend had now moved on to the art of texting.

"What? Sure. I mean no...I mean I don't really remember what happened in class," Ashling hesitated and they moved their conversation to the school parking lot. She had never forgotten anything before. She had always relied on her photographic memory to get her through the many foster families.

"Ugh, come on Ashling! Don't be like that. I know you've been annoyed with me lately, but it's just one class," she pleaded.

"No, I really can't remember," Ashling stopped, suddenly confused. Her friend looked up from her phone for the first time since the conversation began.

"Well, I've finally done it. I've finally rubbed off on you. Hey, maybe I'll start being the smart one," she teased while walking backwards towards the street.

"Look out!" the car screeched around the corner before anyone could react. Her friend lay motionless in the middle of the road. Everyone rushed to her aid, but Ashling could not move.

"Hey, Ashling," her friend bumped into Ashling as they pushed their way through the crowded hall. What just happened? How was her friend who was just lying motionless in the school parking lot standing next to her as if nothing had happened?

"So, I was totally going to make it to class today, but something sort of came up...and...well,"

"Yeah, I know," Ashling interrupted.

"Ok, ok," her friend snapped, " you don't have to flip out about it."

They once again approached the school parking lot.

"Ashling, are you feeling alright?" her friend asked breaking the silence.

"I have this really weird sense of deja vu," Ashling rubbed her head.

"Well, maybe I've finally done it. I've finally rubbed off on you..." her friend did not get to finish her sentence. Ashling grabbed her arm and pulled her back from teh street. The car sped by just missing her friend's body.

"Wow, that was close," her friend stated.

"You have no idea," Ashling replied in disbelief.

When they had finally returned to their all too familiar foster home, Ashling immediately ran to her room two steps at a time. She pulled her new AP science book from beneath her bed and began rapidly flipping through the pages. Privacy was not an option in a foster home, a concept she learned quickly while sharing a room with her friend. How could she transform that quickly? She could not remember anything she read, and after the earlier events of the day, she was beginning to question her sanity.

Ashling pulled the thermometer she had placed in her mouth just moments before: 98.6 degrees. She concentrated on the page in front of her. Ashling remembered a picture of a sheep and something about genetic experiements. Finally, she remembered something. She flipped back a couple of pages, but oddly enough no sheep appeared. Frustrated, Ashling pushed the book aside blowing the pages forward a few chapters.

"Ashling, come on! Mrs. Montague threatened to give us bathroom cleaning duty for the next two months if we don't set the table in the next 5 minutes," she mimicked, "I tried to talk our way out of it, but apparently..." she trailed off down the hallway. Sleep, all Ashling needed was a good night's sleep. She slid to the edge of her bed grabbing her science book before it could also slide off. She set her open book back on the corner of her bed, but as she glanced down, she noticed a picture of a sheep with the caption reading 2000 genetic experiment results.

"You have got to be kidding," she mumbled to herself.

"Ashling, come on!" her friend called. Ashling slammed the book shut and ran out of the room.

The Beginning

In the land of Scelta, everyone is born with a gift. So, it was no surprise when during one hot, sticky summer afternoon, a little girl's apple mysteriously turned into a large tub of cookie dough ice cream. It was a surprise, however, when the Queen of such a powerful world learned that this same little girl, along with three others, would one day be able to accomplish much much more.

It had been two hundred years since Scelta had experienced an unfortunate fate. Because of this, the four rightful heirs to the Sceltan Throne had never set eyes on each other. Along with the Queen as their leader came poverty and crime. What had once been a prosperous world became a constant struggle for survival. This is where we begin our journey, the journey of four young strangers who are destined to meet, but forced to choose their own destiny.

A young mother clutched her child against her body in the cold of the winter night as a desperate attempt to keep her little girl quiet. The branches that floated above the frozen ground scraped against every inch of the young mother's body. The gap between those that were tracking their trail and herself was rapidly becoming smaller. They were getting closer with every step. She could sense their presence. The young mother attempted to pick up the pace of her flight as she hobbled deeper into the unknown darkness. She quickly found that the weak legs and sprained ankle beneath her did not provide much support.

By now, the young mother had lost all sense of direction. Despite her need to move forward, she constantly found herself looking back at what had been left behind. She could not see them, but she knew they were there. For her daughter, anything was better than the fate that would occur if the Royal Guards found them.

The sprained ankle, cuts and bruises that she had obtained during her long flight told the young mother that she was almost to her new destination. She once again could sense it.

Just when the young mother thought that her body could not take any more, when she thought she had lost the race, she reached the mailbox and gently placed her quivering hand on top.

"Offen ahora," the young mother whispered as a sharp jolt ran through her aching body. When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of the deserted city street. Only street lights guided their journey. The young mother carefully studied each building that crossed their path in order to remember her way back. It did not take long before they came across a large sign that read Hudson Street Orphanage. She carefully placed her child on the cold cement steps and secretly tucked a crumpled paper in the blanket that had shielded her little girl throughout their flight.

"Take care little one," she whispered, rang the bell, and disappeared into the darkness.

The door to the orphanage opened allowing a gust of cold wind to sweep through the entryway. Finding little ones on the front steps was not unusual for Mrs. Montague in her line of work, but somehow from the moment she saw her, she knew this child would be special. She picked up the child and wrapped her securely in her arms. Mrs. Montague reached and pulled the crumpled paper from the baby's blanket.

"Ashling," she whispered. It was an unusual name. Mrs. Montague guarded the paper as she closed the door tightly behind her. One day, when the time was right, she would know her mother.