A/N - This is my first fic in a LONG time, so please be gentle with reviews. If you see anything you'd change let me know! First chapter is short, since that section of the game was short.

Childhood.

The winter came early to Albion that year. Only November, but Bowerstone was covered in snow; the windows frosted and rooftops sparkling white. In the thriving market square this was met with festivities. Already merchants were selling mulled wine, thick fur coats and a variety of seasonal delights. The people were in good spirits, their favourite time for social gatherings had come early, and there was little to want for.

Unless, of course, you dwelled in Old Town. The area suffered every winter, but preparation made it somewhat easier. Instead the locals had lost a month, time which was needed to hastily patch roofs and collect firewood to warm their drab homes. Worse still was the plight of the homeless, and they were many. Some had been lucky to find aid from generous townsfolk, but most slowly starved or froze. The deepest corners of Old Town contained the bodies of those killed by the cold. Usually the winter meant the arrival of various nomads, many of whom saw the homeless of Old Town as kin and sheltered them. This winter harboured no kind visitors. While others rejoiced, Old Town reeked of desperation and death.

Among the survivors of Old Town, those who would not yield to conditions, were two young girls struggling to survive. Orphans, and regularly seen running errands to make just enough to prevent starvation, they did their best to stay alive in a small wooden shack they build at the edge of Old Town. Rose and Sparrow had survived two years on the streets, and while Sparrow retained a degree of childishness Rose was an adult in a small body. She sat writing her thoughts on scraps of paper, a frown across her face as she contemplated their future. Sparrow was sat eating stale bread, a threadbare blanket wrapped around her tiny shoulders, watching her older sister.
"So what did Arfur want?" Sparrow asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Rose snapped. "He's a creep."
"No one has any work today."
"I know."
"There's a hole in our roof."
"I know."
"When we're big we'll have a real castle, right sis?"
Rose looked at her little sister, and was surprised to be met with a pleading look. The harsh conditions were eating at Sparrow's frail spirit. Rose stood and got under a blanket with her.
"Of course, little Sparrow. We'll live in a big castle, with no holes in the roof and real beds."
"And guards to chase Arfur away?" Sparrow whispered, smiling.
"They'll shoot him on sight." Rose laughed.
The sisters fell asleep dreaming of castles as the snow kept falling.

Winter is getting colder and soon our shelter won't be anywhere near enough. We'll freeze to death if we don't find something better.

That night, a hooded figure came to Bowerstone. She walked the streets of Old Town, her blind eyes seeing things no one else could. She regarded the many dead with sorrow, yet continued her search in spite of the conditions. The Seeress finally came to stop outside a small wooden shelter housing two children. She smiled, pondering their remarkable will to survive. Inside the shelter Sparrow stirred in her sleep, and opened her eyes to an empty street before returning to dreams of her mother.

The two girls entered the study of Lucien Fairfax with eyes filled with wonder. Just last night they'd been sleeping in a makeshift house with holes in the roof, and now they were standing in the castle they dreamt about every night. Sparrow curiously gazed at the many books and pieces of equipment while Lord Fairfax and Rose talked about the music box. There were so many books; they even littered the floor. Subjects ranging from alchemy to the Old Kingdom filled the study, and Sparrow couldn't help but wonder what it was Lord Fairfax was studying. When a portrait of the deceased Lady Fairfax and Amelia caught her eye, Sparrow couldn't help but grimly wonder if Lord Fairfax sought to bring them back. She shook her head and banished the thought, distracting herself with the various vials containing colourful potions. Suddenly Rose was pulling her towards the window.
"Pay attention, Sparrow!" She hissed. "You're being impolite."

When they stood within the stone circle carved into the floor they were surrounded by a glow. Green light surrounded the sisters and Lucien began muttering something about "the fourth". Rose looked at Sparrow nervously; their father had told them to never reveal their Hero blood, but he never mentioned stone carvings could do it for them.

Then Lucien pulled out his gun.

Rose tried desperately to push Sparrow behind her, to be her shield. So long as her Sparrow was alright nothing mattered, so long as her sister was safe it didn't matter what happened to Rose herself. She closed her eyes and waited for the bullet, and thought of the last time she saw their parents.

Autumn. The time to sell our harvest. Mother and Father are going to market to get a good price, and when they return it'll be with bonfire lollies and pumpkin pie. Maybe a new book for me and the toy sword Father promised little Sparrow. They're loading the wagon with grain when Father calls me over.
"Keep an eye on your sister, Rose." He instructs. " Don't let her go attacking Giles' chickens again. Avo knows he'll only forgive so many incidents."
"You're sure you'll be alright?" Mother looked at me full of concern.
"We'll both be fine" I smile. "I'll find ways to keep her busy."
Mother embraces me.
"We'll be back soon, take good care of her."
"I promise."

Rose cried out in pain and fell to the floor. The shot had missed, and the bullet was embedded in her thigh. She turned, expecting to see Sparrow crouching behind her. Instead she saw her sister, her little Sparrow, being thrown backwards from the force of the bullet. Glass was everywhere as Sparrow was flung out the window and went hurtling to her death. Grief-stricken, Rose curled up in a ball and cried for her sister. She looked up to see Lord Fairfax looming over her, and felt the cold barrel of the gun against her head.

You have to think of something, Rose. You're the big sister, remember?

In the dark, snowy streets of Bowerstone lay a half dead young girl. Her body wracked with the pain of her injuries, her will to survive ebbing away as she realised she was alone. Rose was dead. Just as her world turned black she saw her faithful canine companion, and a hooded stranger.
"Death is not your destiny today, little Sparrow."
The hooded woman carefully picked up the fragile child, and left Bowerstone with the dog close behind her.