Finding You Always

Altered Prophecy

Chapter 1: Altered Prophecy

With a last lingering kiss from her on his lips, he took the bundle in his arms, sword drawn, as he raced to the wardrobe. The curse was nearly upon them and his wife's gut wrenching sobs tore at his heart. How had it come to this? How had he allowed this? For he and Snow to be ripped apart yet again and this time would be worse. They would be apart from their child as well. Tears pricked his eyes, but he pushed them back, as he slashed his way through the Queen's black Knights. Twenty-eight years would pass before the curse was broken or so it was prophesied. He and Snow would miss it all. Her first word, her first steps, her first ball...he cleared his mind. He had to let go of all that and safeguard their baby.

He slayed what he thought was the last guard and opened the wardrobe, prepared to place his daughter inside. He gazed down at the tiny, wriggling bundle, as a tear slipped down his cheek and he pressed a kiss to the infant's forehead.

But before he could place her inside, he felt a searing pain in his side, as one of of Regina's Knights wounded him. He fell to his knees and saw the soldier raise his sword to finish him. He tucked Emma close to his chest and inched back toward the wardrobe. The soldier kicked him in the abdomen, knocking him against it, as he pressed baby Emma close to his chest. Unbeknownst to him, some of the magical dust from the wood sprinkled on him and Emma upon contact.

The black Knight raised his sword to finish the prince when the black smoke swept over them and everything went dark...

~*~

Somewhere in rural Maine, 1983

Pinocchio was scared. It had been hours since he had come through the wardrobe and there was no sign of the baby. She should have been here by now. He was tired, cold, and hungry. And he missed his papa. He began walking alongside the road until he saw a light ahead. It was a strange looking house of sorts and he could see people inside. He only hoped they could help him.

~*~

A few miles away in rural Maine, 1983

The tiny swaddled baby wailed loudly, still in her unconscious father's arms, as headlights approached and stopped. A man stepped out of the car and gasped at the sight. He quickly got back inside the car and found the nearest pay phone and within twenty minutes, an ambulance was there. The man was thought to be dead for a moment, until they miraculously found a faint pulse. The knife wound, or so it looked, seemed telling, but blood loss appeared to minimal.

"Does he have any ID?" one of the police officer's asked, as the baby was cradled by one of the paramedics.

"Found a wallet on him," the paramedic said, handing it to the officer. There was no clues as to how this man, dressed simply a pair of jeans, button down shirt, and leather jacket came to be unconscious by the side of the road with an infant, with a stab wound in his side no less.. It screamed of foul play, but there wasn't a shred of evidence, like they had just dropped out of the sky. The baby was unharmed and they had also assumed was this man's child. It would be confirmed with a blood test at the hospital.

"David Nolan," the office said, as he examined the driver's license. He ran it through the state patrol's database.

"From Storybrooke Maine," he said.

"Storybrooke? I've never heard of it. It's not even on the map," his partner said in confusion. The senior office shrugged.

"Let's get to the hospital. Maybe this David Nolan can tell us what happened when he wakes up and where this Storybrooke is,"

~*~

Regina opened her dark eyes and sat up in her satin sheeted bed. She smiled and hurried to the window, seeing her town that she had created sprawling before her.