Prologue

Tirana strolled down the main street of her little town. The winter breeze was crisp upon her skin. She turned her face to the sun, basking in its warmth. The sounds of laughter from the park across the road drifted over to her. Smiling, she continued walking to the forest, where her father had called her to meet him. Strange, she thought. It has been a while since we have seen each other, 2 years actually.

The sounds of crunching leaves now greeted her as she stepped in to the forest on the east side of her little town, Bayleaf. The well worn track snaked in front of her, winding left and right. Confidently, she followed the path, and moments later, reached the log hut that housed her father. Knocking upon the chestnut door, she waiting for the familiar "please enter" to greet het. Upon hearing that, she opened the door with a creak, and stepped inside. Her first impression was how old her father looked now. Tirana considered, almost 40. "Tirana" Mr Turner said, coming closer. "I have something to show you."