All rights go to Shannon. But the oc's are mine!

Hi! Cressida123 here! I wanna say sorry to all of you who have been waiting for the next chapt of Rise(bows before angry crowd cracking their fists). PLEASE FORGIVE ME! And don't worry, I plan to post over weekend, so you won't have to wait long ;D. For now, please enjoy this prologue! I can't tell you were this story is heading yet-due to some spoilers for some major plot twists I have planned. Ugh-but I can tell you this was BEFORE Evanne's birth. So, yeah, hope you enjoy!

All credit to BuddingWriter101 for giving me this idea ;D. You are awesome! P.s The things are because I am unable to make a line spreading these apart. Bleh. Also, sorry if I confused some of you. It wouldn't let me say Mr. Forkle for some reason. I fixed it though!


Natalie flinched as the needles bombarded her mind, prying at the cracks of her consciousness.

To break her, pull her apart until she nothing but empty flesh-a body without a mind. Her hand immediately went out to steady herself against the desk strewn with papers, all failed recorded testings.

No, not know, the blacknette thought. Not yet. Not when they were so close.

"Are you okay?" Natalie's grandfather, Mr. Forkle -as their test subject would come to know them-asked her, his keen blue eyes watching the 13 year old girl with pellucid concern.

Despite her pain, Natalie did her best to muster a convincing smile.

"Yes, grandfather. My condition is stable," she answered, a plastic grin pressed on cupid's-bow lips.

She couldn't be further from the truth.

At the very least, her response seemed to satisfy the old man. "Very well. We have gone through 18 other test subjects, and so far the results have been less than satisfactory," his expression hardened. "Time is of the essence Natalie. With Prentice's mind break, there is a chance the council will interfere with our plans. We can not let them find Project Moonlark-at least not yet."

If one was looking closer, they might have seen Natalie visibly flinch.

Project Moonlark: The one who would change the elvin world for the better. The one who would alter the course of history. The one who would make the blind council see once again.

So why,god why, were they causing her to endure this hell?

Mr. Forkle wasn't experiencing this pain. He was far too caught up in his research to see that this was wrong, that what they were doing made them the worst of the worst. He lied to himself everyday. Natalie couldn't blame him, it was easier.

Fortunately for the girl, at that very moment, Calla-the carmel haired, gray eyed gnome in charge of making sure Sophie's, as they named number nineteen, creation process was natural and did nothing to harm the innocent life of a child-walked through the door.

"Child, you're pale as snow. What's wrong?" Calla questioned, rushing towards the thirteen year when she saw her condition, blatant worry evident on her rough, earthy face. She placed her hand on Natalie's forehead, then retracted it with a frown.

"You're burning up," she concluded, swiveling to stare up at Natalie with pursed lips. "You should rest."

The young blacknette shot the older woman a shaky smile she hoped was cogent. Damnit, she was faking a lot today.

"I assure you Calla, I am well," Natalie answered.

The gnome fixed her ancient, warm gray eyes up at her, unconvinced, but knew better than to pry. So, when she turned her heated gaze away, Natalie let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Sophie is ready. I suggest we begin to tweak her genes in Room Gamma right now."

Mr. Forkle nodded. "Yes, thank you Calla. We shall be on our way."

And with that, he turned on his heel and made his way through the room cluttered with lab equipment towards the giant crystal door that led to Room Gamma.

But Natalie stayed in place, taking deep, steadying breaths to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable. For the horror that shouldn't even exist.

She remembered all the lives she'd taken-all the people, CHILDREN,who hadn't even gotten a chance at life, simply because they weren't Project Moonlark. Simply because THEY said so. What gave them the right to decide who existed and who didn't? No one, that's who. Natalie felt more vile and disgusting with each new subject. With each new baby killed.

Calla didn't know.

Of course she didn't. If she did, she'd probably beat Mr. Forkle and her to a pulp, heal them, then injure them tenfold. But no. No one knew except for Natalie and her grandfather. A nightmare kept under wraps. A road that should never have been walked on.

She recalled every one of the offspring.

From sweet, beautiful Izzy-the youngest of the eighteen- with her large, dark brown eyes, to Alex, who was the most active of the children, curling his toes and fingers constantly, everyone of them was drilled into memory. EACH and EVERY one. It didn't help the pain in the slightest-in fact, it often made it unbearable at times. The blacknette cursed her photographic memory with a passion.

She often thought of what could have been.

Would Mercedes have become an opera or pop singer when she grew up? Both made sense, given her love for human opera and pop music. She would have brought something special to the Lost Cities if she was still alive. Natalie also had no doubt in her mind that Jason would have been a heart breaker when he grew older-he was very handsome, after all, with palest of the pale brown eyes with bright golden flecks, and, of what she could see at the time, wispy platinum blonde hair.

Then there was Natalie's favorite of them all: Cressida. What would she have been doing later in her now ended life? Like a cobra, guilt then wound its way around the 13 year old's stomach, squeezing until the girl thought she'd burst.

As such, with the guilt came a needle that pierced so deep into her mind Natalie thought she might wretch. But she didn't. She fought. She smiled and pretended everything was sunshine and rainbows like a good little pawn. Though as soon this hellhole was over, as soon as Mr. Forkle let his guard down, she'd leave. She just had to bide her time until she could.

Until then, Natalie hoped she didn't fall apart at the seams.

"Natalie!" Mr. Forkle called to her from where he stood by the door, tapping his foot impatiently. "Are you coming?"

His grandaughter plastered a grin on her pale features. "Yes, I'm coming," she replied, as she rushed to meet by the door.

But as she ran, Natalie crossed her fingers behind her back. Hopefully, you're the one meant to be Project Moonlark little suldreen, she thought darkly.

Otherwise, she didn't know how much more of this she could take.