A/N: Just to note, I knew some of the names in this story are a little hard to say. I had to look up the meanings myself. So just before we start, I am going to give you a little legend or what not of the names, in case you want to know the proper pronunciation:

Cohen - KOE- en

Dara - DAH-rah

Darius - dah-RYE-us

Hilarion - hee-LAH-ree- on (at times may appear Rion- REE-on)

Belfour - bal-FOR

Tobias - toe-By-ah

Evander -EE-vander

Logan - Lo-Gun

Rowan - RO-an

Eirawen - EYE-rah-wen (At times appear Eire- EYE-Rah)

So, obvously some names are much easier than others. Anways, that just for your refrence. Please read the story now.

Prologue

In a small log house, nestled deep in the forest, hidden from the nearby town there once lived a family.

It was a large, modest family, who despite hardships was immensely happy.

Cohan St. Claire worked at the salt mine on the other side of the forest, just at the edge of town, striving to make a living for his wife and children.

While Cohen was at work his lovely wife Dara stayed at home to cook and clean. She made sure that their home was somewhere she would want to live. In between the cooking and cleaning she found time to make sure her children were kept out of trouble.

All seven of them.

There was Darius, the oldest, who with plenty of determination and good will was well on his way to becoming the best doctor their little town had ever seen, as had been his dream for the past twelve years.

At the age of ten, Hilarion was the most good-natured boy you had ever met. He had never found a situation or person that he hadn't liked, and with the head of full dark black hair and laughing blue eyes that most of his family shared, he was well on his way to becoming quite the charmer. Dara liked to tell her children that Hilarion was the happiest baby you had ever met, never cried once.

Belfour, on the other hand, was the sleepiest. In the morning this eight year old was the hardest of her children to wake up, and throughout his waking hours, he seemed to be off some-where else. His eyes always had a dreamy look about them, as if he had never truly woken up.

Poor Tobias had always been a pale sickly sort. He was always giving his mother grief even though lord knows he didn't mean to. Frail and allergic to almost anything he came in contact with, Tobias couldn't find anything that he wasn't able to catch some sort of ailment from. Although sharing Hilarion's classic colouring, his pale, seemingly transparent skin and large spectacles seemed to hide all resemblance. In his five years of life, Tobias had been sick more times than all his siblings combined.

If Hilarion never found a situation that didn't suit him, than four year old Evander, with his shock of red hair and abundance of freckles, never found one that did. With a quick temper and often an ill-disposition Evander was going to give his mother a head of grey hair long before her time.

Logan, with his open and honest face and little boy smile was Dara's baby. At two years, he had yet to pick up the act of words as quickly as her other children had, but that only made her hold on to him tighter.

If Logan was her baby then Rowan, the actual baby of the family, was her mother's darling. The only other child to inherit her mother's red hair, and of course, Dara's only daughter, Rowan seemed to be a quieter sort than the rest of her family. A little more reserved around strangers, a little more prone to shyness.

Perfect in their own ways, Dara and Cohen loved each of their children fiercely. However, they both felt as if something was missing. What, they weren't certain, but they both felt in there heart of hearts that there was just...

Something.

A/N: Well that was the prologue. I hoped you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave a review. I love to hear what you think. What you liked, what you didn't. Constructive critisism is always welcome, that is how we grow as writers. Really I just love hearing what you think so please feel free to tell me.