I suppose my story starts with the Azran, an ancient civilization destroyed by their own folly and selfishness, leaving behind many artifacts. At some point in our history, the Altava family came to own one. It was a beautiful glass vase, crafted with the utmost care in beautiful shades of turquoise and green. It was passed down through my family for a few generations, coming to rest with my parents.

Amy and Tim Altava treasured that vase. It was their most prized possession, always sitting on a special shelf and holding a few red carnations. The moment dust began to gather, my mother pulled out her trusty stepladder and wiped away every speck, leaving the glass polished and gleaming.

To be honest, that's really the only thing that comes to mind when I think of them. That, and a vague feeling of happiness and warmth.

The reason I don't remember much is simple. One hot, summer day, when I was around three, they and their vase simply disappeared, leaving me and my siblings alone. The only clue anyone ever found was a trail of red liquid by the door.

For a few days, it was just the three of us. My sister, my brother, and me. A ten-year-old Anastasia, five-year-old Nathaniel, and three-year-old Emmeline. My first real memory begins during that time. As we were eating a dinner of cold, canned chicken soup, the best thing Ana knew how to make, there was a knock at the door. As I cried, Ana crept over and turned the doorknob with a shaking hand. A man wearing a brown suit strode in, fingers running through his chestnut hair.

"You're not from the government, are you?" Ana, still trembling, spoke up.

"No, dear." The stranger knelt down, reaching out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm here to take care of you. Would you like that?" My sister nodded, a tear sliding down her cheek. He brushed her hair out of her face and smiled before making his way to the two of us at the table.

"You two look hungry. Would you like something to eat?"

My brother, who we'd nicknamed Nat, looked up hopefully. "Can you make mac'n cheese? We have some, but we can't cook it…"

"Hot dogs!" I said, my tears having stopped when he walked over.

The man smiled. "I'll see what I can do." He ruffled Nat's hair affectionately and squeezed my shoulders before walking over to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, the four of us feasted on both mac'n cheese and hot dogs.

"Umm...Mister? What's your name?" Ana put her fork down in her empty bowl as she spoke.

The stranger put his hand on his chin. "Well...My name is Leon Bronev. But how about you call me Uncle Leon." We all smiled. "Now, what can I call you?"

"My name is Anastasia. This is Nathaniel, and that's Emmeline. You can call us Ana, Nat, and Emmy, if you like."

"Oh, but I think your real names fit you much better. Is it alright if I use those, Anastasia?"

My sister blushed and smiled. "Sure."

"Do you know what happened to our parents?" Nat suddenly blurted the question, looking up at our new "uncle".

The adult paused before responding. "Well...I'm...I'm afraid they're not coming back for a very long time."

There was silence for a few moments while my siblings thought about this, and I tried to understand.

"But I'll take care of you until they do." My uncle smiled, and Ana threw her arms around him.

"Are you going to take us to a new home?"

Uncle Leon nodded. "In fact, let's go pack up your things right now, so we can go there tonight. How does that sound?"

I shoveled another piece of hot dog in my mouth before shouting "Yay!"

It took about two hours before we pulled into the driveway of our new home. It was a two-story brick house on the outskirts of London, with a couple of flower gardens in the front. The three of us ran around and explored, each claiming a room to call our own. Mine was a pastel yellow, with a big window that looked out at the street and a window seat that Uncle Leon had to lift me onto. That's where I slept the first night, and that's where my first memory ends.

It's truly a lovely memory. But what I didn't know at the time was that we had really gained three things that day: A new "uncle", a new home, and a place in the organization Targent when we came of age, whether we wanted it or not.

Author's Note: Wow...My first chapter of my first multi-part story is up! I can't promise that I'll do timely updates, or even finish the story, but I'll try my best. :D

Reviews are always appreciated. :) In fact...I'm kinda running low on ideas for her childhood years, so if you guys have any ideas, they'd be VERY appreciated, even if I don't end up using them. :D

Also, if anyone has suggestions for a better summary, those would be welcome as well. :)

And, for my disclaimer, I don't own Layton.