The begginning of my story. A few notes. Number one, I will not have Gavin become Navarog. No. I know the one shot I just posted was completely based on it, but I'm still in love with him. I really dont think much in book four I'm going to put into this story, it left me very upset when I was finished reading it. But there are a few things that I will put in here, and if you read the first chapter you will hopfully be able to figure it out. I know it's short, but it's setting up the story.

I own nothing.

I felt the tears finally spill over when the first shovel of dirt was thrown onto the coffin.

My tears turned into a full blown snot crying when they did the same with it's twin, and I couldn't stop the sobs and violent tremors that went through my body. Everyone else was slient, even the boy standing next to me.

Sometimes you're past crying, like I knew he was at this point. He stood completely still beside me, stiff as a board, eyes staring into three different dimensions, silent as the grave. I shuddered when I realized what I just thought. It's too much. But I hadn't cried once, not once...

Until now.

I hid my face in the sleeve of my, surprise surprise, black sweater, hoping it would muffle the animal like noises escaping my mouth. But it did little to stop them, and, not knowing how much longer I would be able to stand on my own two feet, I leaned against him for support. He wrapped his arms around me. He didn't try to talk to me, he knew it wouldn't help. Words meant nothing.

You can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk? I guess they were right... My internal babble was the only thing keeping me from screaming and punching the priest, who at this point should have stopped saying prayers and blessing the two dead people that were now being buried. Actions speak louder than words. It surprised me that it took myself that long to understand it. What was more surprising was that it seemed that my younger sibling knew it before I did.

It was then I realized how much Seth had matured over the past few years.

It wasn't just the fact that he was an inch taller than me now. Fablehaven. That was it. That was why. Ever since he had first opened that window, almost causing the destruction of the preserve, I had seen him start to mature. He's still that little kid at heart, I know he always will be. But he has finally realized that life isn't a game. And all it took was going to a funeral and seeing his sister mentally break down. Seeing grown men that are known to have fought dragons cry. Seeing his grandparents, who own a magical preserve designed to keep creatures who escaped from fairy tales safe, seemingly give up. Is that what they did? Did Grandma and Grandpa really give up?

Then I started to worry about his mental health. Would it affect him in any way, everything that he's been through the past three years? Would he turn into the young version of Anakin Skywalker? Anakin didn't get any help until his son was almost killed, and then he himself was killed. Is that what would happen to Seth? Would he lose his mind? Or would there be another plot twist in this sick, sick story someone up there was writing for us? Correction- against us.

I don't know how long we stood there like that, my face burried in his chest and his arms wrapped around me. An hour, at least. Because when I finally let go, almost everyone was gone. I wasn't sure if I should be thankful that they had let me and my brother mourn in peace, or insulted at the fact that they left the funeral without saying goodbye. Then it dawned on me that it would be hard to formally say goodbye to someone who was crying her eyes out into her younger brother's chest, or goodbye to someone who hadn't spoken in a week.

I vaguely remember someone take both of our hands and lead us both to the van. The door shutting. The car pulling away. What I do remember is resting my head against Seth's shoulder again. I could feel his pain, his anger. He didn't have to speak it either. We were now connected on a so much deeper level than other siblings were. Not all brothers and sisters had to go through something like this. It happens mind you, but it never happens on top of being Fairykind and a Shadow Charmer. But we went through it together, and now we were the only people we could trust, the only people we could confide in.

I watched the trees zoom by, much like the day we were first brought to Fablehaven. The day we stepped through the front door our fates were sealed. And my anger and pain had drained me. I couln't keep going, and I felt myself getting farther away from reality, amd some kind being graced me with sleep.

And there it was. The day of the funeral. That day will be burned into my memory forever. For the next few weeks, everytime my eyes closed I saw the grave stone, with both of those names chisled into it.

Scott Sorenson, beloved father and husband.

Marla-Kate Sorenson, beloved mother and wife.

Please please please please please please please review. On my one shot I only got one! (ohh and if you're not the fablehaven expert you thought you were, ask me who the two people are that have died.)