I remember how it started, now. It was a long time ago, past the limits of memory, but I remember. Still I remember. She was born in a dream, and in a dream she lived. She was tallish: not too tall, but not very short. Right in the middle. She had a thin face, and big dark-blue eyes. But they were deep. They had the wisdom of many lives in them, but also the pain and hate. They were deep- you could drown in them. Her eyes spoke for her, when you could see them. Often they were partly covered by her long hair. She wore it loose or in a sloppy ponytail. It was a strange blondish-white color, with hints of black, brown and every color ever known. Everything about her gave the impression that she was a bit of everyone, everything, and every time. She took form in my dreams, and thus became a part of me. Truthfully, she became me. Her name was Ash, and that's all I ever knew. I always made up a last name or 'borrowed' another from someone I had met when I needed a surname. I didn't meet many people though, and so I didn't have to worry about this. But as Ash became real, so did I. And I took a form on Midsummer's Eve, one minute before midnight. It was a full moon, yet there were no stars. Around me, the fairies danced, their magick forming a dream-light in the forest. And so I became her, and she became me.