Chapter One.

Cornelia never thought she would have to go back. She never wanted to, and she had always thought that she would be able to outrun anyone or anything that that attempted to make her.

She had built a tidy little life for herself, and was quite proud of her efforts. She had a modest apartment, meticulously decorated and accessorized, in the heart of Manhattan. She had secured a PR job, so loosely linked to fashion that you could blink and miss it, but she still enjoyed the semi regular perks of free clothes and make-up. And she had a doting lawyer fiancé, whose sole mission in life was to make her happy. On paper, she had the perfect life. The life she had always wanted. Some days she even managed to convince herself that she hadn't thought of Meridian. Or the other guardians of the veil. Or him.

After Elyon had been crowned as the rightful queen, and the kingdom of Meridian was restored to its former peaceful glory, winged girl superhero's were rarely needed. The veil had been restored, and the girls voluntarily relinquished their powers. Some had been more willing than others, and Cornelia had definitely been the driving force behind the 'unanimous' decision, desperate for normality, and the mundane life she had always tried to cling to.

The second she had graduated, Cornelia had fled to New York, and cut all ties with the others. She couldn't be normal there. Not around others who remembered that she wasn't. Who persistently spouted reminiscent anecdotes that always began with 'Remember that time in Meridian when..'

So she had left. And become just another inhabitant of New York City, with deep buried secrets, and a past she was trying to forget. If she didn't pry too much into other peoples, then they left hers alone. That worked just fine for her.

Cornelia carefully closed her little kitchen door, unconsciously worried about chipping the paintwork, and busied herself with tidying away the mess she had made while cooking dinner. She liked everything to be neat and tidy, and in its rightful place. Her fiancé Luke called it quirky. He thought it was cute. The real reason behind it was the sense of control it gave her. If the paintwork got chipped, or she left coffee rings on the work top, or footprints on the tiles, ugliness leaked into her life. The mask slipped, and everything she was trying to purge from her memory floated to the surface.

Satisfied that the kitchen counter tops were clean, she took a step back to admire her work, and found herself unexpectedly doubled over.

She let out a pained whimper, and allowed herself sink, ungraciously onto the polished tiled floor. Suddenly her head throbbed, and her stomach lurched. The weirdest sensation of being pulled came over her. It felt like homesickness, multiplied tenfold, and manifesting itself as physical pain. She wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, and bowed her head, waiting for it to stop. This had happened, in varying degrees of severity over the past week.

The clause she had agreed to when she relinquished her powers, the one she had unwillingly and under duress, given her word that she would uphold, sounded in her head, loud and with an air of god given authority, as if the owner of the voice was stood right next to her "If the worlds become blurred again, if a danger presents itself, you will be called. And you will come."

She knew the veil was calling her. Pulling her. The calls were becoming harder to ignore, and even harder to pass off as a migraine to Luke, when she found that she could not stand. Luckily he was in the living room, engrossed in a TV show at full volume, so she did not have to hide her discomfort. Several minutes passed, before slowly, shakily, she stood. Her headache had eased, and she managed to open her eyes. Apart from a puddle of tinned tomato's that she had managed to take down with her, blood red on the pristine white tiles, there was no evidence of her 'turn' as Luke had taken to calling them.

With a sigh, part resignation at the inevitable, part relief that she had again avoided it, at least for today, she bent down to wipe it up. Over the years, she had been called before, but never this insistently. She had ignored them then, and she would ignore them now. She would not go back willingly. If they wanted her, they would have to drag her kicking and screaming.

Cornelia stood up, and caught her own reflection in the kitchen window. She was still enviably tall and slender. She had curves, but these were gradual and proportionate to her slim willowy frame, in a way that every other 22 year old female that lay eyes on her both craved, and hated her for. Her long blonde hair had darkened naturally, over the years, and then drastically with the help of a bottle, to a deep honey colour. She still wore it long, but now persuaded the poker straight locks into loose waves that settled midway down her back. Her porcelain skin looked pale in the bright light, and etched deep shadows into the hollows of her cheeks. Her blood ran cold, and her ice blue eyes widened in shock, but not at her appearance.

Behind her, right in the centre of one of her fuchsia pink Kitchen cabinets with the antique butterfly handles, was the unmistakable glow of a growing portal.

Cornelia's whole body jolted. She turned, as if maybe the reflection was lying to her. Maybe she imagined it. But no. In the split second it had taken her to turn around, the portal had more that doubled in size, now taking up the entirely of the wall. The solid shape of a figure was visible. Stealthily stepping through. Vathek, all seven feet of him, was now standing in her tiny kitchen, stooping to accommodate the low ceiling, his mottled blue face, set in a serious expression.

Cornelia tried to move backwards, and found herself backed against the sink. Because of Vathek's size, this meant that although he was on the other side of the room, she was less than a foot away from him. In panic, she reached out, and grabbed for something to defend herself, and found nothing but a spatula, and a plastic one at that.

"Earth Guardian..." Vathek greeted, bowing his large head to her. "You are needed. You must come with me."

"No." she squeaked weakly, knowing that anything consisting of more than one syllable would be unmanageable to her.

"I have come to collect you." Vathek explained, his voice tight and weary. "You have been called. And you will come. Willingly or otherwise."

"Like hell I will." she spat, her voice wobbling as she exhaled a breath she had barely been aware that she was holding, and flung the spatula at him. It bounced off his bulk with nothing more than a pathetic slap. She reached again. Potato masher. Wooden spoon. Ice cream scoop.

"As I said Guardian... There is no choice." Vathek repeated, not looking particularly impressed at being assaulted with a variety of kitchen utensils.

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped, hurling the last of her armoury, a weighty old school rolling pin. It somehow connected with the side of head, square in his temple. Vathek seemed as surprised as she was, and stumbled backwards into the wall, leaving a deep, ugly crack that spanned the length of the plaster.

Out of utensils, and knowing she only had seconds before he regained his composure, she had no other choice but to run. The size of the apartment limited her sprint, and she couldn't flee into the living room, and risk Luke coming face to face with Vathek. She skidded into the bathroom, and locked the door. She fumbled to unhook the tiny window, and prayed that it was big enough for her squeeze through. She clambered onto the window sill, ripping the floral shower curtain from its hooks, and knocking shampoo bottles, and bath salts across the floor.

She had her head and one shoulder through the window, fresh night air whipping at her face, when Vathek snapped the deadbolt lock in two with minimum effort and seized her around the waist, yanking her back into the bathroom. Cornelia shrieked, and held onto the window frame, trying to kick him off her. Her blows didn't seem to have any effect. He was bigger and stronger than she, and unfazed by her bizarre temper tantrum. With all limbs successfully pried from the window frame, Vathek held her tight to his torso, her legs dangling feet above the ground, despite her flailing wildly in an attempt to reach it. She scratched, she bit, she kicked, but nothing slowed his deliberate pace as he carried her back through the kitchen, towards the portal.

In a last ditch attempt for freedom, Cornelia grabbed the butterfly handle of one of the high cabinets and yanked the cupboard open, swinging the door into Vathek's face. He slowed, but his indignant sigh, revealed that this was more out of annoyance than necessity. He brought his huge hand up to cup the side of her face, and offered an apologetic "Forgive me Guardian" before he forced her head to collide with the refrigerator, using just a fraction of his strength.

Cornelia stopped struggling, and went limp in his enormous arms. She fought to keep her eyes open, but her vision blurred, dimmed, and faded to black as unconsciousness claimed her.

Vathek shifted her into a cradled position, and carried her effortlessly and unchallenged, through the portal. The faint sound of Luke, chuckling along with the canned laughter of the television show, completely immersed, and oblivious, carried through the apartment and into the kitchen. It was barely audible over the otherworldly hum as the portal closed. Leaving no trace that it was ever there.