A/N: Please note again that this is an Alternate Universe fic. These are mostly my characters, my events, and my ideas utilizing JK Rowling's places and ideas as well. Her characters and events will weave in and out of the story as well. All of the characters, ideas and places that aren't copyrighted to her are, obviously, copyrighted to me.

This was written as the second part of a trilogy. The third part has also been written, and I may post that later if the whim suits me. There are some references to the other parts, but the whole story is here, really. This was originally written as a NaNoWriMo ( novel. All lyric and quote credits are at the end of the Epilogue. And now, without further ado:

Part One: Angel of the Sea

Moon to the tide,

I can feel you inside.

I'm under your spell.

Surging like the sea,

Drawn to you so helplessly.

Incense clogged the air, and a fire crackled in the corner. Dalriada Evenua shivered, clinging close to her husband Bryan. She was not happy about being here- but she knew that something had to be done about the nightmares that plagued her. The winter was her enemy- and that enemy was armed. Night was the dagger. Day was the blade. The world seemed to taunt her- let her know constantly that she was not wanted.

"Bryan, I fear that doom shall come to pass." Dalriada said quietly, whispering in her way. Her long, fiery curls danced around her face as a breeze rose through the walls of the tiny hut. Bryan hugged her closer, and for a moment the cold was gone.

"Don't speak of it. It shall all be gone soon." Bryan smiled at her in his confidence. He was lying to himself, but he had to be strong for her sake. Dalriada could see through this façade. It was nothing more. Bryan comforted her in her time of trial, but he could do little more. Dalriada knew what he did not. She knew what she would find here. Her mother had had the problem- died from it. The madness had seeped in and strangled the woman in the darkness. She had thrown herself off a seaside cliff. Dalriada shuddered at the thought.

"Ah, the Troubled One." A hoarse voice said from the corner. Dalriada watched as a hag of a woman stumbled towards her. The woman gave a toothy grin, as if joining the taunts of the world. Dalriada could not smile. She kept her fear from her face, but could not smile.

"Will you help me, Wise One?" Dalriada asked, breaking free from Bryan and stepping forward. She knelt before the woman and dropped her head. "Visions dance in my head, and I cannot be rid of them on my own."

"I see. And you have tried the tribal remedies?" The woman put a wrinkled hand on Dalriada's forehead and swept a thumb across the hairline. She coughed violently for a moment, causing Dalriada to falter backwards. Dalriada, with her dancer's grace, caught herself.

"Yes, Wise One. I have tried every leaf and root I can find in the books. Tell me what vexes my dreams." Dalriada spoke again, softly and mysteriously. She folded her hands against her side and cast her eyes down. She could feel the healer observing her, and she felt very much afraid.

"I do not know of this Madness you have told me of, but I know the tribes have twice had such a case. It is unnamed- but powerful. Twice it came, and twice it took the lives. You must doom no others to this fate." The healer spoke with force. Although her words were laced, her point was very clear: Do not have children, or you will all be cast away. In Dalriada's case, she knew, she'd be cast into the sea. Dalriada could think of nothing worse than seeing her child drowned.

"I shall not, Mother." Dalriada said, paying the woman respects and slipping out of the hut. She found Bryan soon by her side and caught his hand in hers. She turned to him and saw fear in his eyes. Dalriada touched her stomach gently, and met his eyes. They had not known.

"We cannot let it be born, Dalriada." Bryan said firmly. A rage filled her eyes and he was at once sorry he had even mentioned it. Dalriada backed a way from him, and he followed her along the moonlit road.

"It will be born, Bryan. I will not cast it aside."

"And yet, you cast it aside if you bear it."

"It will be born. She will be born. We will keep her a secret." Dalriada looked at him pleadingly. She knew that he would do this for her. He had to do this for her. He had to… "Please, Bryan. It will be trading time again. I can raise her on the ship." Dalriada's tone had changed from doomed to desperate. She was fooling herself…she only wanted a child to comfort her in her madness. Something to drive away the dreams. Something to focus on.

"That is no life for a child. Dalriada, the seas are cold and harsh. You know not what you ask of me. It would die." Bryan broke her gaze and continued forward, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The water was stormy, but soon it would calm and the trading would begin. It was true, it would be easier to hide a child on water than on land. But he could not let his wife do that. It would be condemning her to live the life of a stowaway.

"She would live. I can feel it inside of me, Bryan. She has a strong spirit. I know it." Dalriada quickened her pace to catch up with him, but she could tell the subject would stand on shaky ground. For now, it would be better left alone. Dalriada walked with him in silence until she could see the lights of their cottage on the hill. So many things she wanted to do…having a child had been one of them. Ever since she was little, Dalriada had known that her existence would halt prematurely. Somehow, she hadn't expected it to have such an impact.

As Dalriada prepared for bed that night, she said a silent prayer for her unborn daughter. She had known it would be a daughter. She had always known. Dalriada lit the lamp and pulled a quilt over her. Bryan was down at the docks, fixing the rigging on their ship. He would not be home until morning. Somehow, Dalriada found the silence comforting. The visions stayed away from her during her moments of peace, and she welcomed that. Dalriada smiled to herself and patted her stomach.

"My daughter…I am sorry to doom you to such a fate. I cannot bear it alone, however. I cannot. I fear my madness will come sooner without you by my side. I can feel your spirit. It warms me. My daughter. My angel of the sea."

Dalriada awoke the one morning to the sound of shouts outside her home. She hurried out of bed and pulled on a robe, running to the door. She stepped outside and looked towards the source of commotion. Dalriada watched as three men waved their arms about madly as her husband calmly sat on a barrel. Ah, trading season had begun. Dalriada walked across the grass, still frostbitten from the night, and stood at the side of her husband.

"You promised me a place at the anchor, Bryan!" One man said, waving a rolled up newspaper in the air. His overalls were torn and battered, and Dalriada knew that he had been begging for a place last season. He had been denied after found cheating in poker at the local tavern. Her Bryan would not settle for cheats. The man next to him pushed him aside.

"Bryan, you can't bring in the loads without me. I've been on your crew for the last twelve seasons." This one was trying to be persuasive rather than threatening. Bryan wasn't having it. He hummed as he carved a small flute out of a piece of birch. Dalriada knew that her husband was furious- he only carved when he was furious. She could see why- the man in front of him had filched several gold coins from the earnings last season. Her husband could stand liars less than cheats.

The third man just looked furious, and Dalriada figured he had been the source of yelling before her arrival. The men eventually got tired of evoking no response and stormed off. Bryan didn't stir for at least five minutes when he said he was itching for breakfast. Dalriada silently complied and started frying some eggs.

"I want you to get rid of it. Herbs and things of that sort." Bryan said after the plates had been cleared from the table. Dalriada shook her head firmly as she pushed a needle through a pair of torn trousers. She looked up at him, and felt the judgement in his eyes. She could work magic and spells- he had always known that. Dalriada still refused. She would not cast her child out before it's arrival- or after, for that matter- into the world.

"I'll call her Mariaella." Dalriada spoke, not looking up. She heard Bryan cough, and could picture him rolling his eyes. When she did look up, Bryan was looking at her with silent amusement.

"You're set on this, aren't you?" He asked, standing up and walking over to her rocking chair. Bryan stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders gently. He took her silence as a 'yes' and nodded, confirming it to himself. "Well, then you must do it properly. You shall call her Elliana."

Dalriada stood up and whirled around, throwing her arms around her husband. He laughed and lifted her up and over the chair easily, twirling her about. She felt at peace for once. The night before, she thought, would have been the calm before the storm. But, there was no storm. Just a nice, simple breeze.

"There's a hole here that has to be patched." Dalriada said aloud as she scribbled on a piece of paper. She was checking the portside for damage. Next, she'd be taking inventory in the galley. It all had to be done within the week, she knew. They could not leave until everything was set. Dalriada was beginning to show, slightly. She felt her stomach become more round, and her eating habits changed a bit.

"Paint chipping…that can't be avoided. That'll have to stay." Dalriada finished the check and climbed on board, swaying as the ship adapted to her weight. She opened the door to the cabins and climbed down a small flight of steps to where the galley lay. The shelves were virtually bare, but she recorded what items were there.

As Dalriada closed the last cupboard, Bryan stepped inside the galley. She smiled at him and handed him the list. He looked over it, and frowned in some places. Overall, he seemed pleased. He'd be patching tomorrow while she made a list of supplies that they'd need for the sail to England.

"Everything seems to be set to sail Friday. I'll be glad to be on the sea again." Bryan said, sitting down on a bench. He lit his pipe and puffed thoughtfully. "On the sea, I'm king. None of those bastards whining to me about a job. Good for nothings." Bryan laughed at the thought and leaned back.

"Yes, Friday." Dalriada said, smiling. "I'm going to check the hammocks for tears- I can mend those tonight- and then I'll do some dancing. I need to stretch." Dalriada had always danced. At first, it was only the tribal dancing. Then, she learned the art of ballet. After a while, it all blended together and Bryan could not tell the dances apart. Dalriada loved to dance, and she loved the pure art of it as well. She knew the finer points of every turn and the name of every position. That was another reason Dalriada wanted a child- to pass on her knowledge before the madness got to her.

"I'd love to watch, but I have work to do." Bryan said, clasping her hand in his. She smiled playfully and walked out of the galley. Carefully, Dalriada spent the next two hours checking hammocks.

Dalriada lifted her leg for the final spin and brought it down gracefully a moment later. Her tunic clung to her sweaty body as she sat on the floor, stretching out. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face and reach for her left toe, trying to relax her muscles. She reflected on her dance.

It had been the first time in a while that Dalriada had been able to dance uninterrupted. Her moves had been clumsy at first, but she soon recovered the rhythm she had always known. The music was in her head. It always was. Dalriada pulled aside a curtain and looked out the window. On the docks, she could see merchants preparing their ships or boys unloading cargo from ships come home.

Dalriada was nearly thrown back as the vision hit her. She stepped away from the window as her breathing sped up…her sight blurred and she felt herself collapse. At that point, her mind had left her body and was in some distant place.

Fire. Fire rose on the hillside and a house burned. It was an old house, and the timber fell easily. It had been made to burn, it seemed. The snow was ablaze with fire of it own- the reflection of the burning. It cast an eerie light upon the forest below; untouched. The house had been meant to burn. One could feel it in the air. Evil…cruel intentions. The purpose so strong that it only took a moment to bring the fire to life. It was a warning. The fire had only been a warning.

Dalriada's eyes snapped open and she contained her scream. The power of the visions was always intense. This was no different. She was hot and the room was stuffy. She climbed to her feet and opened the window in a hurry. The cool air made her face tingly, and Dalriada felt a wave of relief. The vision haunted her, but the physical effects were fleeting.

Fire? What had been burning? After a moment, Dalriada decided not to waste her time trying to decipher these visions. As she had learned as a little girl, visions could be about things years in the future. Dalriada sighed and closed the window, gathering her dancing stuff and leaving the room.

The room was a sort of upstairs to the cottage. It was the only place that Dalriada could dance without being disturbed. As of late, women from the village had come to have tea and such with her. She didn't feel the need to be social, but she felt the need to be polite and let them in all the same. Dalriada did not answer any doors today, and most of the women were helping at the docks or the market anyway.

Once downstairs, Dalriada took the time to start tidying up a bit. She wouldn't be seeing this house for a couple months once they set sail, and a neighbor would do the tending. Dalriada most definitely did not want to leave a messy house for someone else to take care of. She picked up her mending and put the sewing stuff away. She folded Bryan's trousers and put them in his trunk. Dalriada smoothed out the quilts on the bed and dusted off the nightstand. She soon found herself out of things to do, and none the happier.

There was the secret. She needed something to distract herself. Dalriada decided she could go into town, but that meant seeing people for no reason. It wasn't that Dalriada didn't like people- she had plenty of friends- it was just that she found most of them boring and frivolous. They all seemed stupid at times.

Dalriada read books and had been educated as a child. She didn't, by all means, look down on those who did not have that opportunity. She just tried to avoid being locked into a conversation with them for a long time. The women bored her especially. They always wanted to speak of parties and children and things of that sort. Things that Dalriada had to avoid for her own safety. After all, the madness got the worst when she was around other people.

Bryan came in that evening as Dalriada had begun to mend hammocks. There were seven total that had to be fixed, and she had started with the most battered one. It seemed that after that everything would be much easier. Dalriada set the hammock aside to start making dinner, and Bryan sat by the fire.

"I selected the crew today. We'll take on six this year instead of five. We'll be in England by the time…" Bryan trailed off and patted his stomach, not able to say the words. Saying the words would be condemning his wife. It had been an unspoken understanding between them as of late. "And we'll get you proper care there. No one will know there."

"No one knows here." Dalriada commented as she tore the bread. He was trying to be thoughtful, and she appreciated that. Sometimes it made her feel worse, though. She laughed a little and then stopped, realizing how fake it sounded.

"Yes, but word would get around." Bryan said, working through it logically. The women in the town were not known for their silence. He smiled at his wife, but it was lost as she was not looking. He sighed.

The last few days before the Evenuas set sail were stressful. The whole village was anxiously awaiting the departure of the ships, and a buzz was spreading through the shops. The winter was going to be harsh, the ladies said. The livelihood of the village depended solely on this trading season. Dalriada, of course, heard very little of this.

"Pull up the anchor!" Bryan shouted through a high wind the day of setting sail. The crew member did so and tilted his hat to his wife far below. Bryan had no time to wave to anyone, for he was busy running to and fro making sure things were in order. Dalriada leaned wistfully on the rail and watched as the women below cried. Sometimes, she envied them. Their naivety. They knew nothing of lurking fears and unavoidable doom. Dalriada had seen these things. Dalriada had lived these things.

In a few minutes, the ship was ready to sail and steered out of the harbor. The cries of the women drowned out as the sound of the waves sang below. Dalriada quickly regained her sea legs and smiled happily. She slipped away from the deck and descended to the cabin below. It was here that she would sleep now. Once, she would have shared the captain's quarters. But now, she would have a daughter to care for. In secret. But, that was still moons away, and Dalriada could not wait. She had been waiting. All of her life. Now she'd have someone by her side. Someone that knew what was inside of her. Someone that shared in that burden. It was selfish, but Dalriada only saw the calming in it.

"Elliana…Elliana…" Dalriada sang softly. "Come to me, child. Come to me. My love for you is great. My spirit you will share. Come to me, come to me." Dalriada sat down on an old crate and looked around. This part of the ship was mostly cargo. She'd have to clear a space for dancing. Reflecting, Dalriada decided she should have done that before they had pulled out of port.

The sea had a calming effect on all of those on board. The men quickly pushed the warnings of their wives behind them and engaged in games of poker and dice every evening. There was a shift to watch the deck and always a man at the wheel, but if all was calm there was little to do. And these things proved to be calm during the Genesis. Dalriada was lucky- she didn't have to do all of the cooking. Her husband saw to that. There were shifts for that too. Granted, she had to do her fair share.

"Dalriada, I've made something for her." Bryan said one day when they were checking the maps. Dalriada knew to whom he referred, of course. "You'll need to make the final touches. It's down below. It should keep you busy for a while." He smiled at his wife and opened the door for her. She gave him a last glance and hurried below. Sitting in her cleared space was a fine trunk, hand-carved of cedar. On top of the chest was a small satchel of carving things. Dalriada set to work.

It took Dalriada the better part of the sail to England to finish the final carvings on the trunk. She had carved waves and dolphins across the top, along with other sea-things. Dalriada was proud of it. Across the top read the words, "Angel of the Sea." Elliana would be her angel, she knew. The daughter she had always wanted. Her comfort. The trunk was enchanted with protective spells and things of that sort- Dalriada considered these a necessary precaution.

Slowly, the trunk began to fill with things. Dalriada tucked two quilts away that she had already made in anticipation of a family. She had sewn these at a young age, but they shone with a newness. They had never been used. Dalriada smiled happily to herself. Also, she tucked her pair of ballet shoes from long ago in the trunk. She had outgrown them many years past, but she treasured them still.

"Elliana…Elliana…daughter of mine." Dalriada sang quietly while closing the trunk. She slipped into her dancing tunic and began to stretch out, humming. The moves came gently, now. She was not stiff. Dalriada slipped into forms and swiftly into a dance of her creation. A vision raced through her head, but it seemed that this was more gentle than most. The vision seemed to be a granting of peace of some sort. Dalriada saw herself holding her daughter in a dark corner. The night engulfed them both, but her dream-self did not seem afraid. Her dream-self seemed happy.

Dalriada checked her watch and noticed that her shift at the wheel was about to begin. She changed back into ship clothes and climbed the ladder up to the deck. Tying her hair back, Dalriada signaled the first mate to switch with her. She looked out over the water as she took the wheel and smiled to herself. It seemed she was keeping some sort of secret that everyone was itching to know. It was power, and she liked it.

London was horribly crowded. That's what Dalriada would never get used to. The port was busy and the people were loud. There was cursing everywhere, and things being loaded and unloaded at a rapid pace. Dalriada got off the ship and took leave to find them housing for the season. They had a room at an inn, but the inn was deep in the city. It was Dalriada's job to find that inn, and quickly.

"Excuse me, sir." Dalriada said, approaching a policeman. "Do you know where the Whaler's Inn is?" The guard pointed her down a street and she nodded to herself. Dalriada could barely make out the words, but the white writing on green was unmistakable. She hurried down the street, carefully avoiding a car going the wrong way down the street. That was not her concern.

"We have a room ordered, miss." Dalriada told the girl at the counter. "Evenua." The girl checked the files and quickly confirmed that, yes, the Whaler's Inn knew that the Evenua's would be staying until September.

"Yes, Jonathan will show you the way." The girl said, indicating a sullen-looking boy in the corner. He rolled his eyes and lead Dalriada down a hall, to a room at the very end. Dalriada found the room acceptable, and opened a window. She could see a small garden outside, but not much more.

The room was dusty, but the bed was comfortable. It was large, and covered with many blankets. The pillows were soft, and the lamps worked. It was nice to know that the room would be livable. Dalriada opened the closet and put her things away. Of course, there was more on the ship. Only things she needed would stay her. Bryan always insisted on renting a room, even though Dalriada thought living on the ship would be more practical.

Trading season passed with a flourish. Every morning, Dalriada would go to a small shop they had set up in market and tend to the wares. Every night, she'd come back to the inn a bit more exhausted. By the end of August, she was unable to walk to the shop and Bryan admitted her to a hospital.

The baby came quickly and easily. Dalriada kept her daughter in her arms whenever possible. Elliana had striking sea green eyes and a beautiful beginning to a head of hair. Dalriada had never seen anything more beautiful. Still, she could show her baby to no one besides her husband. Soon enough, they were back on the ship and Dalriada was forced to raise her daughter in secrecy.

The coasts of Norway were sighted sometime in late September, and Dalriada wasn't sure she was ready to face the village. Bryan was to give the story to the villagers that she was sleeping- and that she'd get off the ship later. That night, Dalriada slipped unsurely off the ship and to her cottage. She set up Elliana's crib in the corner and kept the curtains drawn. There would be no visits from the women of the village for quite some time.

Dalriada found herself desperately wanted to hold up Elliana and shout from the rooftops that she had a daughter. But no…no one could no. There was no child, in everyone's mind. Dalriada had been blessed of late to be free of visions…maybe this child was all that she had hoped. Maybe this child would save her from madness.

The visions were gone, and Dalriada found herself plagued with a new madness in the months that followed. Elliana was three, now, and Dalriada had kept her a complete secret. They were sailing home from England, now. Elliana had been learning to dance, and seemed to be happy.

"Point your toe, Elliana." Dalriada said gently one day, helping Elliana lift her leg. It seemed that the girl had a gift for dancing. Dalriada found everything she had ever wanted in this child and she had never been happier. After the lesson was done, Dalriada showed Elliana how to wrap up her shoes and tuck them away in her trunk. Elliana smiled as only a three year old girl can do.

"Mommy, when will we be home?" She asked, crawling into her mother's lap and hugging her tightly. Her hair had grown out, and taken on an ethereal blue shimmer. The raven black under the blue made the girl look as nothing Dalriada had ever seen. Where had the color come from? Dalriada had fiery red hair, while Bryan had dirty blond sailor's hair.

"Soon, dear." Dalriada said. The ship lurched for a moment, and Dalriada looked up. She felt a shiver up her spine and she stood up. "Stay here, Elliana. I'll be right back." Elliana stayed put and Dalriada went up above. She found her husband pulling the sails tight. "Bryan, what's going on?"

"A storm. A bad storm. It'll be here soon." Bryan had no sooner spoken than a torrential rain splashed the deck. Dalriada grabbed onto his arm as the ship lurched again. She looked worried, and Bryan shared the feeling. He hollered orders to his crew as the storm rose.

Elliana watched as her mother left and looked around. How boring it was down here, day after day. She felt the ship lurching and wondered why the sea was throwing them back and forth. She climbed the ladder and looked about. Rain splashed on her head, but she found it refreshing. Elliana walked towards the stern and wondered where everyone was. She rounded the corner and climbed onto the railing, holding on tightly.

The sea was churning something awful. The waves were crashing into the sides of the ship with more force than Elliana had ever seen. She laughed and threw her head back, taking in the scent of it all. The blue-green of the waves…it had a scent. A dangerous, but calming scent. Sort of like the feeling she got from her mother. Her mother was a source of comfort for her, but Dalriada had a stormy secret. Elliana could feel this. She knew about secrets. And she knew how important it was to keep them.

One morning last summer, her father brought home a baby bird with a broken wing. Elliana was told to keep it a secret, and got to watch as the bird healed and was able to fly again. Her mother never knew, and that was quite a feat.

"Where is she?" Bryan asked as the crew descended to take shelter below. Dalriada looked around with fear. She didn't know where her daughter was, and that was a scary thought.

"Maybe she's just hiding." Dalriada said doubtfully. Bryan stumbled as the ship lurched again, but hurried to the ladder. He tried to open the hatch to get on deck, but cursed.

"Damn it! A crate must have slipped over it. Damn it to Hell, I can't get out." Bryan hopped down and ran to his wife who was sobbing madly.

"I want my daughter, Bryan!" She screamed. "I don't know where my daughter is!" Dalriada quickly became hysterical and suddenly didn't care what the sailors thought. She ran to the hatch and pushed with all her might, but it would not budge. She broke down again and cried freely. She dropped to her knees and prayed for her daughter's safety. Dalriada prayed for her daughter's life. Somehow, a knowing came over her. She knew then that her daughter would be alone for a long time.

Elliana was flung from the railing as the sea got rougher and the rains came harder. She ran slipping to the bow and still saw no one. She was not crying, although she felt she should be.

Suddenly, the gray clouds parted slightly and a beam of light was cast onto a place in the horizon. Seemingly from nowhere came a ghostly blue ship. Elliana peered at it with curiosity. Elliana heard the sea singing to her…

Come to us, child. She gripped the railing and leaned forward. Dance with us, Elliana. A pair of hands lifted Elliana from behind and put her into a lifeboat, dropping her into the waves. She didn't see the person, and she blacked out. Her dreams were filled with ghost ships and waves…and the mother that Elliana knew she would miss greatly.

Four hours later, Elliana awoke to find herself on another ship. She didn't know the people around her, but they seemed to coo over her unnecessarily. She was afraid, and felt an emptiness in her heart. Wrapped in blankets, Elliana looked around. Sitting by her side she found the trunk; looking as new as ever. An old man told her that they had found it in the wreckage.

Wreckage? Elliana leapt up and hurried to the side of the ship, waddling in her blankets. Looking out to the horizon, she knew she was far away from her mother. Elliana never cried and never spoke. The month's journey to England was unbearable. They didn't know anything about her, she found. They couldn't open her trunk. She would not talk, save muttering her name once.

They did not know that her home was Norway. They only knew that their ship was heading toward England. And so it had to be. Elliana ate nothing for four days after her saving. She eventually ate again, but no one would take responsibility for her. What would happen when the ship reached England? Elliana didn't know.

When London was sighted, an old hag declared that she would care for the child of the storm. Elliana found that the hag was nice enough, and began to talk a bit more. She became known by all around her as Stormborne.

Elliana hummed as she weeded the garden. Grandmother, as she had taken to calling the old woman, would be home very soon. Elliana, at seven years old, was doing most of the chores around the house. Earning her keep, and such. Grandmother was at the market, yet, and would be bringing home a chicken for dinner. Elliana finished in the garden and went inside to wash her hands. When she heard the dogs start barking, she ran outside.

"Come help me, child. I grow weary in my old age." The hag coughed, handing Elliana a basket of fruit. Elliana also took the chicken from the woman's arm. Elliana helped the old woman into the house and began preparing the meal. She was slicing apples when she heard Grandmother coughing ferociously.

Elliana ran into the front room where the woman liked to sit in front of the fire. The hag, covered in various rags and scarves, was nothing more than a rotting lump on the floor. Elliana knelt down beside her and lifted the woman's head.

"Grandmother? Are you ill?" Elliana squeaked. She patted the woman's head, not knowing what else to do. The hag coughed again, this time choking up blood. Elliana grimaced, but pressed on. "Grandmother?"

"You ask…stupid questions." Grandmother started coughing again. Elliana helped her to her feet and led her to her bed. Elliana pulled down the blankets and helped the old woman slip off her shoes. She tucked Grandmother in and stepped back. This didn't look good, Elliana reflected. Even only having seven years of life, Elliana knew the signs of that life. This was not a sign of death.

Elliana had never felt like a slave in this house. Granted, she did much of the work. But the hag was old and dilapidated. Elliana felt like she owed the hag her life, and so she worked. It wasn't so bad. She loved flowers, and caring for them was fun. Elliana never wished ill on the woman, and would never do so. The fact that this woman was ill…maybe dying…was tearing her up inside. Elliana could feel the small certainty her life held slipping away.

During the next few hours, Elliana felt the spirit of the old woman slipping away. With every breath, Elliana could tell the woman was in pain. Elliana never left her side, and held her hand gently. She watched as the old woman's chest rose and fell. Elliana was not afraid for herself. She was afraid for the old woman. She was afraid that the old woman would have to face the unknown alone.

"Child, talk to me." The woman rasped, not turning or moving. Elliana was slightly taken aback after the long silence. She quickly found words, knowing that that was what the old woman needed most.

"Grandmother, the flowers are beautiful." Elliana said, letting the woman's last grasp be on something she cared about. "They will grow strong this summer and turn beautiful colors before their lives are through. Their leaves will be home to many insects, and they will shelter many from hardships. The flowers are so beautiful." Elliana squeezed the woman's wrinkled hand.

"My roses are…dying." The woman coughed again. Elliana knew the woman wasn't looking, but shook her head anyway.

"The roses are the prettiest, Grandmother. The thorns are sharp, but the roses are still the prettiest. You know, the field mice hide in the bushes. They like it there, for some reason." Elliana mused, and she felt the grip on her hand loosen. She bit her lip as the spirit lingered in the room…the spirit once so bright, now faded. It fled after a moment or two, and Elliana looked at the woman. "The mice will always love the roses." Elliana stood up and walked away from the bed, not looking back.

Wordlessly, Elliana packed the few things she had in a small bag. She hadn't ever opened the trunk. It didn't feel right…she knew there was great power there, and she didn't want to let it out. Elliana slung the bag over her shoulder and dragged the trunk out to the door. It became lighter as she dragged it, it seemed. Elliana paused for a moment before opening the door and looked up on the shelf beside the door. She reached a hand in a porcelain jar and withdrew a handful of rose petals. Elliana put these in her bag and slipped out the door.

Once outside, Elliana pondered where she was heading. She had no clue where she could go now…she was not afraid, though. Elliana pulled her trunk behind her and started off down the path. She started humming a familiar tune. The name of it was long forgotten, but the power of it lingered in her mind.

The dock was crowded and very loud, but Elliana could slip through the masses unnoticed. People left her alone, and that was a good thing. She saw a ship off to her right that seemed to suit her unknown purposes. Elliana hurried onboard when the crewman's back was turned, and slipped below deck. She hid among boxes and things to go yet again unnoticed. Something about the ship seemed familiar; like something out of a dream. The room seemed familiar as well. It was a smell she couldn't name, but one that she would never forget.

Once the ship started moving, Elliana felt better. They couldn't stop her now; save throwing her overboard. She was on her way to somewhere. Being seven, she couldn't help but dream of great castles in far off lands. Her stomach churned with hunger, but she ignored it. Elliana was becoming accustomed to ignoring her hunger.

No more than a few hours could have passed when the ship pulled into harbor. Elliana could hear people unloading things, and heaved her trunk out of her hiding place. She stuck her head out the hatch and looked around. The coast was clear, for the moment. Elliana climbed out and pulled up her trunk. It was almost to the railing when someone grabbed her roughly from behind.

"Let go of me!" Elliana cried.

"Stowaway." The man coughed, shoving her away. "The police will have you to do with as they like. I'd say the gallows." The man laughed heartily.

"They wouldn't hang me for being a stowaway." Elliana shot back. The man shrugged, and beckoned a policeman over. They spoke for a few minutes, and Elliana was led off the ship and away from the port. She was left to drag her trunk and carry her small bag, but it seemed like nothing compared to what lay ahead.

The system did not hang her. Much to the contrary, although Elliana would come to look upon the initial idea with something other than scorn. A quick death would become appealing. Fate was teasing her this way. Elliana was put in a dreary, nameless orphanage in Blarney.

"You, mouse. You will not get off easy here, let me guarantee you that. I've heard about your mishap on the boat. Do not think your rattish ways will earn you points here." The keeper of the house said. For a moment, Elliana feared the woman was referring to the wreck. But no…no one knew about that. "You will work in the town during the day and take lessons here in the afternoon. You will do chores along with the others. Now, here's your bed." The woman led Elliana into a large room painted all gray with two windows. There were twenty-five beds in the otherwise bare room. At the end of each bed was a trunk. At the end of Elliana's was her cedar chest. She never questioned it, for she saw the mistress looking at it with scorn.

As soon as the woman left, Elliana found herself alone. The light was dimming through the windows, but Elliana was not hungry. She knelt beside her trunk and ran a finger along the carvings. Her heart raced as a wave of heat swept over her and she became dizzy. She had never quite experienced a pain like this…

Mouse…run, mouse. Run and hide. Crouch behind boxes. Stay put…stay put…don't move. A room swirled into view. It was a small room, and Elliana had never seen it before. It seemed more like a dungeon than anything. The air was filled with smoke, and two figures hunched over something in a corner. A cauldron, it seemed. The kind in books and fairytales. Something was brewing…

Elliana's eyes snapped open, and she was sprawled out on the floor. A group of girls was clustered around her and she sat up quickly, ignoring the blood rushing to her head. She stood up and brushed herself off.

"Well, well. A mouse on our floor. Tell me, Mouse, were you dreaming?" A girl stepped forward with long, red hair. She had a malicious grin on her face as though she held the world in her palm. "You were twitching something awful…maybe a cat was chasing you."

Elliana glared at the girl, but another smaller girl pushed the red-head to the back. The smaller girl, still older than Elliana, smiled and extended her hand. She had short brown hair that lacked proper care, it seemed.

"Ignore Katrina. I'm Grace. Welcome to our hall." Grace glanced back at Katrina as Elliana stood there. Elliana didn't take her hand or speak, she merely stood silently. "Okay, then. Have it your way. I didn't talk much either when I first arrived. Still getting over the shock of being an orphan, I suppose." Grace smiled, but Elliana glared. The girl had said the wrong thing. It was apparent to all in the room. Elliana turned on her heel and pushed her way out of the circle, flopping on her bed.

"We've got chores, Mouse. Get moving." Katrina barked, hitting Elliana with a pillow. Elliana stood up grudgingly and followed the girls out of the hall. She didn't know how long she could put up with keeping her mouth shut. She had done it all her life, but so many insults swarmed in her mind. Her tongue was begging to be made a weapon.

The days were long. That much was agreed upon by all. Living in the orphanage was not hard, Elliana found. Living with the people was unbearable. Grace continued to try and make conversation, and Elliana continued her silence. Katrina continued her sneering remarks, as though unaffected by being an orphan herself.

Every night, Elliana silently prayed to some supreme being of the universe (whichever she felt would listen best) that something would pull her out of here. She prayed for Grandmother's soul, her mother and father, and Grace. Secretly, Elliana wanted to talk to Grace. But if Katrina could throw things that Elliana didn't say in her face, she'd have a ball with the things Elliana did say.

Visions continued to haunt Elliana, but they came in the form of nightmares. She didn't know why she was seeing these things, and she didn't know if other people went through the same thing. She had never asked, and never would.

One day, as the girls returned from morning chores to dress for lessons, Elliana found a cluster of older girls around her trunk. She hurried forward and pushed her way through, glaring.

"What are you hiding, Mouse?" Katrina demanded, kicking the trunk.

"Get away from there." Elliana growled with hatred. She had to control herself. She had to keep silent. She couldn't do any of the things she was thinking about. Control. Control. Katrina stepped closer to the trunk.

"I bet it's empty. Is it empty, Mouse?" She knelt down and touched the latch. At that moment, a purple light sprang from the lock and threw her backwards. Katrina lay motionless several feet away. Several screams rose from the cluster and it was Grace that rushed to Katrina, kneeling beside her. She looked up at Elliana with fear in her eyes.

That moment froze all of time for Elliana. She felt personally responsible for what had happened…she felt as though that light was the explosion of anger from her very soul. She felt nothing.

"You killed her!" Grace screamed. "Witch! Satan's child!" The other girls joined the accusations, forcing Elliana backwards. "Get out! GET OUT!" Elliana ran into a wall on her hurry to get out of there. She hid down a corridor for several hours, until she was positive everyone was in lessons.

Elliana found her trunk untouched, but Katrina's body had been moved. It was as though people feared that trunk, but with good reason. Elliana pulled her trunk after her down the stairs and out the door, shivering when the cold air blasted her. She was a murderer at eight years old.

Once again, Elliana found herself completely alone and seeking shelter behind boxes. It was a gloomy day, and the threat of rain was ever-looming. It started soon after the thunder sounded. She shivered and looked around at her company. It had only been a few hours since she ran from the orphanage, but the weight of her deed was beginning to sink in. She felt violently ill. The street scum and beggars around her did little to ease her mood. Elliana would soon learn that she was one of them, however.

Over the next few days, Elliana concentrated on getting away from the orphanage. Little by little, she made it to a port city. She had no idea what it was called, but it seemed as cold and harsh as London had. Elliana had to beg for money, or dance for it. She did that often- the dancing. It made her happy, and it got her food.

One evening, Elliana stumbled upon a shop in Upper Lanister that threw out its scraps to a bunch of stray cats. Luckily, the cats took a liking to Elliana and let her share their pickings. She always had a cat around now, and that made her happy. Company keeps misery at bay.

One night, Elliana stumbled into a trashcan on her way to the back door. It was getting darker earlier, and she hadn't seen it. Instantly, a strange fear went through her. It wasn't the rush of knowing that she was doing something wrong- it was the dread of having her livelihood taken away. A light flicked on and the back door open. Elliana crouched down behind some boxes, but a man shined a torch in her direction.

"Who's there?" He called out in a thick accent. Elliana didn't move. The man started approaching her, and a large woman came to the door. The man grabbed Elliana by the arm and threw her to the ground in front of the door. She looked up in fear, pleading with the woman for gentleness.

"Oh, Sean, she's just a wee thing." The woman cooed, kneeling down to eye-level with Elliana. "We could clean her up a bit and have her run errands and such." The man grunted, but the woman lifted Elliana to her feet and led her inside. Elliana made an important discovery about independence that night. Survival is key. And survival is a whole lot easier when you have a roof over your head.

The next morning, before the man and his wife woke up, Elliana snuck back to her corner in the alley and pulled her trunk out from behind a stack of boxes. She towed it back to the shop and pulled it inside. The woman asked no questions about it, but did examine it carefully. She never tried to open in, but she did praise the carvings for a bit.

That day was the softest Hell Elliana had ever known. Her labor was strenuous, as she ran all over the city delivering bread and such. Her feet were bruised and bloodied, but she was grateful for the meals. Matra, as she had taken to calling the woman, was a wonderful cook.

Late in December, Elliana came down with a stomach illness. Matra sat by her side for days and nights until Elliana became strong again. It was a comfort to know that someone cared for her. Had she found peace at last? It seemed so. Her nights were still haunted, but her days were happy. Times were hard, but it was the most peaceful time of Elliana's existence.

After Elliana's illness, Sean beat her for slowing down business. Somehow, the beating didn't hurt. Elliana ran a loaf of bread to an old woman up the street. She was rewarded with a fresh cookie. Taking the pay back to Matra, Elliana began humming. It was that haunting tune that Elliana just knew. She had never learned it, in truth. It just was in her head. She danced to it often times.

Elliana stopped at the doorway to the shop to wipe her feet on the mat when she heard shrill screaming. Fear sank into her heart as she recognized Matra's shouts. A sick feeling rose inside of her as she realized she had heard those screams before. Those screams had almost risen out of her own mouth. She opened the door slightly and the words became intelligible.

"Sean! Saints be good, Sean!" Matra ran into the hallway and spotted Elliana. Elliana smiled weakly, but that dropped in a moment. Matra's eyes held no affection for the poor orphan. Not anymore. Elliana backed up slowly, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Matra?" Elliana ventured, feeling confident in Matra's silence.

"Damn you, wretched girl! Damn you! He was a good man…he didn't want any of your filth, but I convinced him otherwise. Now, he's dead by the hands of you!" Matra screamed, throwing a vase at Elliana. She ducked quickly and took cover in a corner.

"I was running bread, Matra." Elliana said quietly, forcing the tears away.

"Get out of my house, and take that sorcery with you." Matra shoved Elliana into the back room where her trunk lay, pristinely virgin and seemingly untouched. Sean's lifeless body was crumpled a few feet away.

Elliana, in that moment, was won over by anguish and anger. Her cry rose to the highest clock towers of the town. It was like that of a banshee, crying for it's lost family. The banshee, like Elliana, had once been bonded to a family throughout generations. The cry of anguish that rose from its form was ethereal at least. The sign that one of its dear ones had passed away.

Then, the realization hit Elliana. She'd never be truly free anywhere as long as she had that trunk. But, it was her livelihood. She would never part with it. It was her rock of Gibraltar; the only thing that lay proof of her trials. Elliana grabbed the trunk and pulled it after her, through the halls and out the door.

The door to Life slammed shut with the shop door. Elliana felt completely closed off again; left alone with her hauntings and realizations. She nearly retched when she realized that Sean had betrayed her. That Matra had thrown her out. That she was only with a powerful magic that she couldn't control.

The lights dimmed on the town and tears streamed down Elliana's face. Rain came quickly, and Elliana shivered in the cold. The stars gave her no comfort. They taunted her from the heavens. Elliana looked down at her trunk and cursed mentally, kicking it hard. All of the force of her anger went into that kick, and a loud 'thud' resounded from the cedar.

Her foot throbbed.

"Lassie? Lassie?" Elliana felt something moving her body, and she willed herself back into the oblivion of dreams. Somehow, her mind wouldn't follow her command and her eyes opened. Standing over her was an old man; grinning toothlessly. "Lassie, you're bleeding."

Elliana looked down at her hand groggily and groaned. Her hand was indeed bloody. She had cut it open last night on a shard of glass. She had been digging through a dumpster for scraps of food and her hand had been gashed open. Elliana was still bleeding, and felt light-headed for it.

The old man pulled her to her feet and helped her into his car. He drove her to the hospital. Had Elliana been in a better frame of mind, she might have objected. Instead, she was vaguely aware of being taken into a doctor and being stitched up. She didn't remember when they put her into a bed, but she remembered hating it.

Elliana found herself in bed for a week. The hospital claimed she was weak and had suffered a large loss of blood. The old man, Conner Darley, stayed by her bedside every day and most of each night. Elliana wasn't quite sure why, but she felt it had something to do with people's urge to help people inferior to themselves. Or something like that. Elliana didn't speak to the old man, but he talked to her quite frequently. Elliana refused to get close to another person. It was dangerous. On the positive side, Elliana had no clue where her trunk was. Under a substantial amount of drugs, Elliana didn't really care. Once again, had she been in a better frame of mind, she might have been panicking.

"We can't have you living on the streets." Conner said on one rainy morning. "I mean, it isn't safe for- what are you, ten?- a young girl such as yourself. You can live with my daughter. She's always wanted a daughter, but she and her husband haven't had much luck with that sort of thing. She'll be glad to take you in and you can have a proper home with a mother and a father- and oh dear, you have blue hair, my dear." Conner stopped and peered closely at Elliana's hair, which had caught a glint of fluorescent light when she had moved.

"Anyway," Conner said, shaking his head. "You can start at Hogwarts in the spring. You are a witch, of course."

"Why are you doing this?" Elliana asked suddenly, sitting up. Conner jumped. He put a hand over his heart as though settling it from a startle. "And what do you mean about me being a witch?" Elliana looked confused. She had always known, that was true. And the trunk was definitely enchanted. She was still very confused as to how the man knew.

"Oh, lassie. You've always been a witch. Surely you've made things happen without really thinking about it. You must have proper education and things. We'll call it a shortcut to the system. You know, it is ever so hard for my daughter to adopt a child. So much paperwork. Far too much for me to expect you to understand. Just know that it is quite a hassle and she'd rather have a Christmas gift. And Christmas is- dear me!- Tomorrow, child. Christmas is tomorrow." Conner seemed to bounce with enthusiasm, and Elliana couldn't help but smile. She was still swallowing the whole witch thing. She wasn't sure why he was giving her a chance at a life, but she daren't question such things.

Fate is fickle, and egotistical at that. If Fate were to think that you didn't like a gift, she'd snatch it right back in an instant. If you added insult to injury by laughing at the circumstances, she'd take back the colorful ribbon as well. Yes. It was best not to question the lady Fate.