Prologue

She stared down at her hands, which were wrapped in tan gauze. Flexing her fingers, she found them a little stiff, but not nearly as sore as she remembered.

Remembered…

She, remembered. Why she was here. Who she really was. What was going on. The pulse that had spread throughout the town, passed through her, had filled her with warmth suddenly, and then a flood of memories coursed through her mind. Everything came back suddenly.

A soft cackle at her left side pulled her out of her thoughts. Looking over she noticed a plump black woman. Her face looked ancient with wrinkles traversing deeply across her skin, and lips pulled back on themselves in the absence of teeth. Though the woman was obviously blind, she stared deeply at the woman, exuberant amusement written across her face that contradicted her addled age.

"It's about time you woke up, mon chéri. It's been too long we been livin' in this fog." She then looked outside the window and let out a soft sigh at something only she could see behind the horizon. "It's high time we got some of this feelin' back."

Though the woman in bandages had come to understand much of the elderly woman's sayings over time, she was truly baffled about what she could be talking about this time.

"I don't understand. What are you talking about? "

"Magic, chile. Magic is coming."

Une

2 months later

Regina was never late. Among her many talents, punctuality remained a potent tool, and yet this morning, she was running late for her office. Ever since that idiot Emma and her even more idiotic mother Snow, or Mary Margaret—she never bothered to remember what she preferred to be called these days—had fallen through that portal, admittedly on her behalf, her schedule had been increasingly hard to keep. As much as she hated acknowledging it, they had largely been the forces keeping her safe from the townspeople's wrath. As it stood now, she was only barely allowed to maintain her office because no one had the experience, cunning, and, ironically, patience to handle the mayoral duties. Still, never one to let grudges go so easily, the lovely citizens of Storybrooke made it much harder for her live her everyday life outside of her office.

Which is why this Monday morning as she left her house, she discovered her black Mercedes had been egged beyond recognition in her driveway. No doubt this was done by some of the more juvenile members of the community (at least she hoped so, because she found the idea of a grown adult doing such tasteless acts of vandalism quite insulting), but nevertheless, without her magic fully restored, it was impossible for her to clean up the mess in a timely manner. Which meant that she found herself walking to her office from her home on Mifflin St.—effectively cutting the time she had to pass by Grannies for her morning cup of coffee and fruit before heading to work. She supposed she could stop there regardless if she really didn't mind facing the morning crowd of Stroybrooke's early risers, but after the morning she was having, she wasn't entirely sure she could leave without someone getting scorched.

So it was that the Madam Mayor of Storybrooke found herself bypassing her usual route to work, which would normally have been adjusted for her stop at Granny's, and took another route. Her brisk pace helped to deflect some of the chill of an early morning with low light, and yet she found herself walking slower as she continued on the way to her office. Looking around, she noticed that the area she was in didn't feel too familiar at all. But that wasn't right, right? She had lived here in this cursed town for 28 years, and had seen, and controlled, every inch of it the entire time. And yet, here she was, on a block that looked completely foreign to her. In fact, it looked completely foreign to the entire landscape and fabric of Storybrooke.

Dotted on both sides of the street were large willow trees with Spanish moss hanging gently from them, while further away on the landscape baldcypress could be seem looming in gathering water. There was the undercurrent noise of some bug buzzing in the air, like a hushed lullaby of the earth and she swears it was much hotter here than anywhere else in Storybrooke. In fact, it felt like someone had turned off the cool sea breeze and replaced it with the 100% humidity of a more Southern region. And the icing on top of the weird cake was the home sitting in the midst of all this. Well, it looked like a home. It was rather stately, but also humble at the same time. Surrounded by beautifully manicured magnolia trees, it was a two-story home with pristine white columns contrasting with the warm yellow paneling. Dark blue shutters lay open at the numerous windows placed evenly on both floors of the wrap around porches, and intricate wrought iron protected the length of the 2nd floor patio. She found herself drawn to it, and before she realized, she was pushing her way through the wrought iron fences encased around the property. Work be damned—she could wait to hear her citizens' equal cries for her head on a stick and more funding later.

Walking up the short steps to the house, if that was what this was, she noticed an elderly African-American woman rocking softly in a wooden chair. She was looking out at the street, or at least, faced the direction of it. Regina was fairly certain she didn't see anything. Which is why she was so startled when the old woman spoke.

"I was wonderin' when you would show up here."

Puzzled at having been noticed, and no less addressed in such a casual tone, Regina let out a prickly "Excuse me?"

But the women just let out a soft chuckle to herself, and mumbled something under her breath that Regina couldn't understand.

Just then the front door opened, and out stepped a woman about the same height as Regina with skin the color of cinnamon and eyes the color of amber. A soft back curl hang just a bit off center on her forehead, escaping from the rest of her hair, which was pulled back into a thick low ponytail. She wore a dress in an ochre shade that complemented her skin tone well, and had a starched white apron wrapped around her midsection. Deep dimples appeared on her face as a warm smile overtook it.

"I suppose you must be getting hungry, and thirsty too. I have just what you need."

And with that, the woman turned away, and sauntered cheerily back inside, leaving a bewildered Regina on her doorstep. She had a feeling that things were about to get a lot more interesting in Storybrooke for her.