Smoke, ashes, burning flesh. That is what woke her. The smell. So foul, so wrong. She tilted her head as she stared out into the smoke-filled night. "Something's burning," she thought. A scream echoed through the night, jolting her upright.
She peered out her bedroom window and looked down into the red-filled street. There lay a car, turned on its side, flames licking the massive structure. The street itself was in chaos, crowded with civilians awakened by the startling embers.
She spotted something near the broken window of the flaming vehicle.
Blood. But something else was there. A small object she couldn't make out. She squinted, trying to make sense of the mysterious object.
"Child, come here." She turned toward the voice and found Miss Sarah Bentley striding toward her. "What are you doing up?" She closed the window curtains. "That is no concern of ours. Now, off to bed with you." Miss Bentley grabbed her arm firmly and tugged her toward the bed. "To bed, child."
Instead of complying with Miss Bentley's instructions, the girl stood rooted by the window. Miss Bentley stared at the girl incredulously. "What has gotten into you?" she exclaimed, exasperated.
A man stood in the doorway, observing the girl and Miss Bentley. "Sarah," he spoke, "let the child come. She may be of some use, seeing that she is awake." Something about the girl standing before him tugged at his mind. "This girl," he thought, "is destined for something..." He couldn't quite grasp what it was that made him think such a thing. He looked over the girl once more, and then it hit him. "Bring her, Sarah."
The man left the room, with the silent child following closely behind. They wound their way through the bustling hallway as servants and orphans alike ran about, trying to catch a glimpse of the commotion. As they left the safety of the orphanage, the girl stood watching, peering around for a glimpse of what was happening. She didn't know what was going on, but a stirring within her pulled her attention toward the center of the accident.
She felt a light push against her back and turned her head to find the same man right behind her. "Go to her," he commanded, his eyes scanning her with a knowing glint. "She needs you."
Not needing any further encouragement, she began pushing and squeezing her way through the crowd. She could feel it—a thread that drew her closer and closer to the ruckus. When she reached the front of the scene, she saw the object she had spotted from her window clearly. It was a broken hand. A lobe of horror pierced her heart, and the need to get to the person overwhelmed her. She broke into a run toward the bloodied hand that beckoned her, but before she could reach it, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her body and drag her away.
She fought and clawed at the stranger's arms in dismay. She would not give up; she needed to get to that hand.
"Let her go!" a man barked. Once again, the young girl whirled her head back to see the same man. She nodded to him in thanks as the stranger's arms left her waist, and she quickly dashed to the flaming vehicle.
The girl did not notice the broken glass piercing the bottoms of her feet nor the flames crackling dangerously close. Her eyes were solely set on the feeble hand before her. As she knelt to the ground, she saw the owner of that hand clearly: a young girl, no older than she. The girl was broken and bloodied, and her eyes stared directly at hers.
"Help," the injured girl croaked, tears streaming down her face. "I want to live."
With that, the girl took hold of her. As soon as their hands locked together, a swirl of light surrounded them, dancing and entwining around their arms. The girl felt a sear of heat rush to her upper arm, and a dull pain scorched through it. That is when both girls succumbed to unconsciousness.
*
Abraham rubbed a hand over his weary face as he sank into his armchair. It had taken all night to clear up the scene and erase the memories of all the witnesses. The night had taken a great toll on him. "You saw what I saw, Sarah. That girl is most definitely a guardian."
"But it cannot be! She is a girl, human at that!" Sarah exclaimed. "There must be a mistake."
"That mark on her arm is no mistake, Sarah," Abraham glowered, bemused. "She is, and now she will be taken under my wing. She must train hard if she is going to be the princess's guardian."
*
The girl awoke, staring at the infirmary ceiling. She was puzzled by what she was doing there but quickly cast that thought aside when she heard doors slamming down the hall.
"Where is she?!" a girl's voice screamed. "I have to find her!"
"Heavens! Child! You must be resting!" The girl sat up upon hearing the familiar voice of Miss Bentley.
"I can't rest! I have to see her! She saved me!" With a few more echoes of slamming doors resonating from outside, the door to the infirmary finally flew open. "There you are!"
The girl watched as another girl with golden locks and green eyes tinged with honey bounced her way over to her. The girl beamed down at her and held out her hand. "Hi, do you remember me? You saved me from the fire. My name's Sylvia."
"Keira," the girl whispered as she took the girl's hand in hers.
