Hello there!

This is my first story on Once upon a time. It's just an idea I had watching an episode (not telling you which one, or you'll just guess the whole storyline) and I wanted to give it a try.

Unfortunately, I own nothing except my original character Morgana / Kaya, speaking of which, we'll find out more about her in the coming chapters.

I don't know if I should continue this story because it's pretty much an experiment, so any feedback from you guys is more than welcome!

Also, if you're a Game of Thrones fan, I'm also writing a story on that, so... yeah, if you want to take a look at that...? Okay, I obviously do not know how to be subtle, do I?

Okay, folks, I'm finished wasting your time :)

Enjoy the story!

-Ell

Prologue

You can feel the light start to tremble,

washing what you know out to sea

It was a sunny day in Storybrooke. Truth be told, sunny days were not rare in the small-but-pretty town, but all the citizens seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.

Walking down the streets, you could see people having breakfast at Granny's, like any other day.

You could see Doctor Hopper walking with his dog Pongo, like any other day.

You could see the Mayor Regina Mills and you could see her son Henry walking to school, like any other day.

You could see Sheriff Graham doing his rounds, like any other day.

All the people in Storybrooke seemed to repeat their actions, everyday, like always.

As always, just like clockwork indeed, a girl could be seen walking towards Mr Gold's pawnshop: his adopted daughter, Kaya Faye Fox, who just like every other morning was going to her father's shop to have breakfast with him before going to work.

When she entered the shop, she could hear the small bell ring, but she saw no trace of her father.

"Papa?" she called out. "Papa, are you there?"

"In the back, dearie" answered his voice.

She found him working at his desk, hovering over a cup, almost smiling to himself, which made her smile as well. She sat in front of him, sipping her latte.

"You're in a good mood, aren't you?" she asked.

He lifted his head from his work to look at her, with the smile he reserved just for her. "I am, dearie. You may not know yet, but last night our beloved town has acquired a new presence"

The girl raised her eyebrows, confused. "Well, that is strange, but I didn't think you would be the type to care for new people, papa. Are you turning friendly?" she joked.

Her father rolled his eyes, sighing. "This one is special. Aren't you curious now?"

She kept sipping her latte. "If you want me to know, you'll tell me anyway. If you don't want me to know, you won't tell me no matter how much I ask for it" she calmly reasoned.

"You know me too well, dearie. Back to our matter, though... her name is Emma Swan. She claims to be the natural mother of Henry Mills, but that is not the only relation she has to this city"

"I'm confused, papa... what are you talking about?"

Her father stood up and walked to her, holding to her the cup he was working on earlier. "Drink this. I promise it will all be clear" he just told her.

She stared at the cup for a long moment. She could smell the disgusting stench from there and the greyish colour didn't ease her mind at all, either. She looked up at her father, uncertain. "What is this?" she asked her father, almost afraid.

"Do you trust me?" her father asked in response.

She didn't reply. She took the cup from his hand and drank from it.

For a moment, her mind went completely blank. She could feel nothing. She could think of nothing. She could hear nothing. She could see nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing. She could be nothing, nothing at all. And then, everything came back at once, like water rushing in after breaking a dam. Everything. Everything. All of it. Every colour. Every laugh. Every smile. Every scream. Every moment. Every person. Every part of her. It all came back to her as if it was never really taken from her. She gasped in shock and for a moment all she could feel was her father holding her.

Her father. Her father was there. Her father brought her back. He brought her back, yes, but he had always been there and she had always been there, so, how could he bring her back? Her father. She had to focus on her father. Her father had magic. Where was magic? Did he have magic here? Where was here? Storybrooke, Maine. The new world created by the Queen. No, no, the world created by her father. The Queen's curse. No, no, her father's curse. The curse to find her brother. She had a brother? Yes, she had. But who was she?

She gasped again and she could finally hear her father calling to her, trying to break through the chaos in her mind without further breaking her.

She took a deep breath.

The chaos inside her finally calmed down.

"Papa?" she called, breathless.

Her father held her to him. "I'm here, Morgana. I'm here, dearie. Are you alright?"

"I... I think so, yes. I remember. I remember everything" she said, mostly speaking to herself.

He nodded, taking a step back to look at her. "The moment I heard Miss Swan's name, I remembered... and as soon as I remembered, I knew I had to make you remember, as well"

She stood up and looked around the room. "So this is the famous new world... how many years we've been here, papa?" she asked, now curious.

"28 years. We have spent 28 years here living the same day, doing the same things, day after day"

"But now that the Saviour is here..."

"Now everything will change, yes. The curse is weakening, magic will return soon and all our plans will work out just nicely"

"Everything?" she asked, now suddenly thoughtful.

Her father needed only to look at her, to know what she was hinting at. He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "First, we will find your brother. Then, I promise to you, we will deal with the issue of your mother. I will tell you everything, all the truth, but in order to do that, first we must help the Saviour break the curse"

She looked up at him, determined. She had waited all her life to know the identity of her mother. Was she here, as well? Did she know her daughter was here? Did she think about her? Did she miss her? Was she looking for her? Those were the questions she had been asking herself all her life, questions her father refused to answer stating she was too young to know, that the truth was hard to face and he didn't want her to be hurt. She had spent all her life questioning half of herself.

A curse would not stop her.