Chapter 1

It was a dark winter night. The wind blew through the dark alleys of London, and the people around were preparing for Christmas. In the houses, people were taking out turkeys, potatoes covered in butter and gravy, and all sorts of delicious food. There was joy and celebration in those houses, with family members gathering together for a Christmas meal to enjoy together. The church bells were tolling for a Christmas Eve's service.

Sarah, no last name known to her, crouched in a corner of the dark dirty alley in the poorest part of London. The night was freezing cold, and though there was no snow, the wind quickly stole away any warmth she had in her body. She shivered in the damp alley as she tried to pull the dirty rags she had stolen several days ago tighter against the body, trying to block the wind from her body. It didn't work, though, and the night wind quickly left her shivering. Rats scurried beside her, feeding from the bins.

She had been starving for several days, and so when the baker had displayed the fresh bread he had baked in the morning on the front windows, she couldn't resist her stomach. She had rushed into the bakery and grabbed a few loaves of bread. The baker had given chase after her out of the shop into the streets. Unfortunately, she tripped when she was about to disappear behind an corner, and he had given her a hard beating with a nearby crowbar he had found nearby on the ground. After a long beating, several swear words, and a few kicks to the ribs, he took back the bread and walked away, leaving her to die.

Right now, while trying to bear her bruises and the pain in her broken bones, while starving from the lack of food, while shivering in a damp and dark alleyway surrounded by rats scavenging on garbage, a dark thought had finally entered Sarah's mind.

"I'm going to die."

She was going to die here. Alone. Out in the cold. Surrounded by rats. There would be no funeral. Her body would simply be dumped into the river, buried in an unmarked grave, or worse, eaten by rats.

She could hear them now, scurrying about in the darkness. They were surrounding her.

Sarah began to pray. To whomever or whatever could hear her. She never really knew her parents, as she was 8 when they died and her remaining relatives threw her out of the house, but she had been to church with them several times. She remembered those days, when she had a roof over her head, warm food, a soft bed to sleep in at night….. Since then, she had lived on the streets, stealing food from vendors and sellers, scavenging from garbage, and trying to avoid being sent to the workshops or murdered. She had lied, stolen, fought and cheated to survive this far, doing anything she could to survive in this horrible place.

But it seemed that this was the end of the line for her. Her gaze began to darken, and the world around her seemed to fade away…..

The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was a white outline surrounding a face ringed by gold.

A/N: Attention to all readers!

This is a final fantasy fanfic starring the white mage. For goodness sake, only the white mage. Also, don't expect her to spam holy. I'm gonna have her be a pacifist. Note. Keyword is spam. If a robber or thief tries to hurt Sarah…..

So yeah, a mage, through some timey wimey, crystal breaking shenanigans, somehow ends up in London, during the industrial revolution. There won't be much battle, but lots of hugs. Old London wasn't a nice place. There shall be hugs. Lots of hugs. Let the hugs flow.

Kittens are a requirement. Puppies, optional.