Chapter 0

Pilot

'Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past was real.'

All her life, she has been seen as strange.

She is an anomaly, they say. Something that doesn't fit. She can never be a normal child. At least, that's what she's always been told.

The orphan children didn't like her- didn't think she belonged. The Mothers of the institute wanted her to change- they wanted her to become a respectable young lady.

The only one who accepted her for who she was, was herself.

So when she gets the chance to run off, she takes it.

She doesn't need to look back.

It is not uncommon for her to go hungry.

In fact, as she is scrambling through the ruins of Alcabar- it is the first time in days she has managed to find a morsel of food. There is a mass of sausage and lettuce in her hand, the sweat on her palms no doubt rolling through the somewhat ruined meal as she climbs up the side of a fallen building with her one free arm and sighs, her back hitting metal and her feet dangling over the spangles of the structure as she stops to rest.

She looks down at her prize, and tries not to grimace when the squashed meat and sparkling greens crumble and spill through her fingers.

The mush in her hand had once been a sandwich, one she swiped from an unsuspecting mans lap. It has only been months since she left the orphanage, but she feels as if it has been years. Her body is flexible and lithe, but it is also slowly growing thinner and thinner the more days pass where she does not eat. She is lucky to find a pond near the ruins that is not soiled with pollution, and so she drinks from it despite rolls of weed and flecks of gold that float through the water.

She is too young to find decent work so she can have a real dinner. And even if she could, she is too flighty and does not want to be held down by rules. She dislikes rules with a passion, mostly due to the cruelty of the Mothers who had many, many rules for her to follow. And many punishments prepared when she didn't.

So she resorts to stealing.

It is not as bad as she thought it would be. The orphan boys at her old home had always acted as if it was a skillful art to be mastered. A slight of hand and a stealthy form, that was what they said mattered the most. One second too slow and they would be at risk of getting whipped by the old mothers cane.

Edward thinks of those swelling red welts that had covered the arms of each boy who had been caught. She thinks of them as she crouches in the dust, her golden eyes watchful as she seeks out 'prey'.

It is almost too easy.

But, of course, it is never too simple for her. Never too quick to be over with. She always wavers, always takes a second too late to back away.

The mans eye shoot open the second she pulls her hand back, the sandwich clutched in her trembling hands as if in a vice. When she see's his hazy eyes focus on her, irritation clouding them as he realizes what she is doing, Edward can only send a half smile towards him and speed away like a bullet.

She ignores the shouts. She ignores the startled looks of the people she pushes, shoves, and pounces over as she runs through the streets and through buildings as if finding her way through a maze.

All she can do is feel her muscles burn and her jaw widen as a burst of laughter leaves her mouth.

By the time she managed to stop, adrenaline pumping away in her body, she was already at the south of the city- in the ruins.

With only scraps left of what was supposed to be her dinner.

She can only sigh now, smile, and hope that tomorrow will be different. Her eyes lift to the sky, golden rays falling over the rusty gray red and brown of the fallen ruins. Destruction had never looks so lovely under the suns light.

Edward admires the view, the beauty of it sending her to sleep in seconds.

The last thing she wishes for before closing her eyes... is a home.