- Prologue -

It's easier to see the silver lining of a cloud when you're not the one standing in the rain. I no longer know just how I got to this place; I only wish I could have found my way back before things went this far. For the first time in my life, I feel as if there is no way to escape the pain… no hope. I wish I could be stronger. I'm ashamed that I am not. I wish it didn't have to come to this.

Lorelai, the Hero Queen of Albion, sat on the shoreline of a tiny, secluded island in Driftwood. She looked up to take in the final moments of the sunset as tears rolled down her reddened cheeks. The sky was afire with hues of orange, gold and red. She longed to cast every choice she'd made into that fiery abyss; every wrong decision that had led her closer to this point and further away from her true destiny. Soon the tide would rise with the moon, and the waters would sweep her out to sea under the cover of night.

The lukewarm waves gently swept across her legs, over and over, inching higher with every pass. It was as if they were beckoning her out to the sea with a soothing ushering. She reached into her pocket before it became wet and pulled out a soaked piece of folded cloth that appeared very old, tattered and bloodstained. She ran a thumb across its embroidery: faded green threading in the shape of an oak leaf. Delicately, she unfolded the linen before retrieving a small glass vial from inside and clutching it in her hand.

I'm not really sure what I believe anymore; or what happens next… if anything at all. Some say that the banshees of Wraithmarsh are trapped, tortured souls among us, unable to move on. Others say the same of the furies in the sands of Aurora. Still, I am willing to take that chance. I already feel trapped… tortured… crushed. An irreparable soul.

She took one last look up through the haze of her tears, observing the sky as its fiery glow extinguished into streaks of purple and blue. A strange calm washed over her, and she pulled the cork from the vial with her teeth, letting it fall into her lap. Without pause, she tossed back the bitter liquid, swallowing every drop. There was no turning back now; no time for regrets or second chances. She held the tattered cloth against her heart and sobbed as the waves grew higher with every pass, her final thought dwelling only on one thing… one person.

Elliot…

Lorelai's body fell slack and as her eyes fluttered closed, she tasted the salt of the ocean as it washed over her.

"Death is not your destiny today, Hero…" the disembodied voice of the blind seeress, Theresa, reverberated through her mind as she slipped further into darkness.

The rising tide lifted her body from the wet sand that had conformed to her shape.

"Lora!"

She heard a man calling her name off in the distance, as if he were miles away.

"Lora, NO!"

The tide pulled her under where the water became ice cold, and the shock of it jabbed at her like thousands of daggers against her skin. Beneath the surface, she struggled to endure the harsh and violent contrast from what had felt so gentle just moments ago. She opened her mouth to try to scream, but only choked on the strong forces of water current as it began flooding her violently.

Help...me...

She felt two strong arms pulling her to the surface, but she could no longer draw in air as her limp, paralyzed body defied her sudden desire to survive this. The familiar sensation of wet sand pressed against her back would be the last thing she felt before she slipped from consciousness.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank those who have read and followed my other Fable fanfiction series and have come to support my newest story. I have not abandoned "Strength of the Soul". I am still working on its latest chapter and plan on updating very soon. This story, however, was very necessary at this turning point in my life. It is very personal, and I don't expect it to be every reader's cup of tea. The events that unfold in this story will be drawn from my life, and in a way, writing this story is going to help me get through this very difficult time. Thanks in advance to anyone who decides to favorite, follow, or review it. This story, much like the last, is coming straight from my heart. If it touches just one reader, I will keep sharing it.

Love, Angela