Dappled shadows filtered through the sunlit leaves, casting their joyous movements onto my strawberry-blond hair. I sat drowsily against the mossy back of an oak, feeling the grass tickle my feet. The enormous field of wheat dipped and swayed before me in the gentle breeze. As I listened to the soft hiss of the shifting grasses, I breathed in the musty scents of the forest stretching behind me, and let out a long, satisfying sigh.

This day couldn't get any better.

The most peaceful place on Earth, I called it. The worries of the world slip away when you sit on the border between the known and the unknown.

I had never been beyond the edge of the forest. My mother had always warned me to stay in the safety of the woods. She said there were dangerous things out there. Which is why this had become my favorite spot. Tempting fate, as one might say.

I'd been coming to this particular place for a few weeks, simply staring into the massive void of wheat. Never once had I seen or heard anything dangerous. After the first couple days of gazing intently into the field and straining my ears for the slightest hint of danger, I let my paranoia slip. Soon my regular trips to the edge of the forest had become quite relaxing, a much-appreciated escape from reality.

I don't know if my mom ever knew I was out here. She didn't seem terribly concerned about me leaving the house nearly every afternoon; although, she did often tell me to be careful, in a way that made it seem like she knew something was up.

I stretched out in my mossy nook, gazing up at the clouds scuttling through the lazy afternoon sky. My mind wandered as I thought about what might be beyond the forest; beyond this field of wheat; beyond the only world I've ever known. Was it really as dangerous as my mom, and many others, kept insisting it was?

For the hundredth time, I thought about venturing out into the unknown. My father had done it, after all.

And look where that got him, my conscience flashed back.

I sighed and reached up to grab hold of the pendant resting on my chest. I rubbed my thumb over the sharp point of the tooth, studying the jagged edges. He had given it to me, back when he was still alive.

I remembered that day clearly. He had returned from one of his many expeditions beyond the woods, but he had been injured. My mom had seen him coming and sent me up to my room. I was nine at the time. I could hear my mom's strained voice through the door as she scolded my dad and tried not to get too upset, for my sake.

What felt like hours later, after my mother had patched him up, I was let back downstairs to see Dad. Pushing aside his injuries, he had scooped me up in his strong arms, squeezing me tight in a bear hug. He deposited me on a nearby stool. Grinning, he took something out of his coat pocket.

"Here, I want you to have this." He spoke gently, placing a small object in my hand. I could feel the rough edges against my palm. "To remind you that there is more in this world than you'll ever see. You should never fear the unknown," he explained. "Only do your best to understand."

I missed the weary glance my mother directed at him as I studied the tooth, feeling the smooth sides. I pulled my Dad into another hug.

"Thank you."

As I sat now, under the oak, I thought of Dad's words:

You should never fear the unknown.

I thought of my mom's warnings:

Never leave the safety of the forest.

I pulled myself up from the position I had been resting in, staring out into the stalks of wheat. The breeze died away, as if the whole world was holding its breath. As I stepped forward, I felt a slight tug of air from behind me, seeming to propel me forward, into the field.

One foot in front of the other; soon I stood on the very edge of the grass. Taking one last glance behind me, I took a deep breath, and did exactly what I had promised my mother I would never do.

I left the woods.

Walking cautiously forward, it seemed as though my senses were on overdrive. I could hear every rustle of wheat, every chirp of birdsong from behind me. I kept going.

As I got farther and farther into the field, the comforting sounds of the forest behind me faded into the distance. Now only the rustle of wheat and the cloud-speckled sky remained.

There was no end to the void in sight. Even the forest behind me had disappeared. I had no idea where I was going or what I was even doing. However, one thought burned deep in my mind: I had left the forest! The wind around me felt liberating, the grassy stalks tickling my arms and legs. I let a small laugh escape my lips. Although I had seen nothing but wheat so far, I now understood my father's never ending desire to explore the world. The chorus of feelings was intoxicating.

I traversed the expanse, my eyes on the horizon before me. I glanced off to the side as I noticed a small shape jutting out from the ground quite a ways away. I squinted, trying to make out what it might be. It wasn't moving, so I assumed it to be a structure of some kind. I changed directions to investigate.

As I got closer, I realized it was some sort of metal shack. What would a building be doing in the middle of a field? I wondered.

Soon, I had come close enough to see the debris around it, and to notice how run-down the place looked. The ground around it was a single square of concrete. Rust stained the bottom of the jagged metal walls.

I crossed the slab of concrete, my bare feet pattering on the hard surface. I tried the door, which seemed more firmly lodged in place than one would expect from the door of an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. The handle didn't even jiggle.

Could I possibly pry it open? I searched for something to use as a crowbar, but all the metal debris surrounding the shack was either too big to lift or wouldn't fit between the door and the frame.

Disappointment washed over me. There was no way I was going to be able to get it open, even if I did find a suitable crowbar. The door seemed like it wouldn't be moving anytime soon, at least not without a key. Plus, who knows whose shack this was? I could get in trouble for trying to break into someone's property.

I sighed in defeat. I knew I was just making up excuses for myself to mask my disappointment. I desperately wanted to know what the shack contained, even if it was just boring old farm equipment. At least it would be something.

But no. I couldn't even get the door open.

Crestfallen, I turned back to the path I had made through the field. The grain I had trampled was painfully obvious. I hoped no one had been walking along the edge of the forest and had seen traces of my undisguised and completely forbidden trek.

I walked slowly back the way I had come, following the sun. It had become low in the sky, the slightest hints of red clinging to the horizon. The wind had died down, and the only noise to be heard was the grass under my feet as I made the long journey home.

I arrived on the edge of town later than I normally did. Walking between the last few trees, I gazed out over the settlement. Redcrest certainly lived up to its name; the red glow of the sunset cast its last light upon the valley, tinting everything in a cherry atmosphere.

I took up a jog as I passed by the farmer's fields that surrounded the central townscape. All of the settlement's food was grown within this fertile valley, providing for the people of Redcrest.

A few brave souls would sometimes make the long journey to a neighboring city in order to trade excess crops for manufactured goods. Every so often, they wouldn't return. Stories were told of abandoned carts found on the trails, with no trace of their owners. Many speculated on bandits or wolves, while others considered the looming possibility of a more sinister reason.

Whatever the case, the town had mixed feelings about these adventurers. They were either heralded as heroes, or they were discouraged from their risky endeavors. Often the families and loved ones of the travelers were the ones looking out for their safety.

I slowed to a walk as I neared the rickety gates of the town. I could tell that I was one of the last people through the doors as Humphrey, the gatekeeper, looked like he was preparing to close the gates. He seemed to be waiting for me, and uttered a friendly greeting as I approached the entrance.

"Out a bit late tonight, are we?" The elderly man called, holding one of the gate doors open for me.

"Yup," I replied. I didn't really feel like elaborating, instead wanting only to get home.

As I walked past, he let out a soft chuckle. "I really should ask you where you've been," he started.

"But you won't," I finished, grinning.

"No need to," Humphrey said, knowingly. He shooed me off with a small wave of his hand. "Now go on home; your mother's probably worried sick."

I thanked him and trotted away, missing the passing remark he made as he shook his head fondly.

"Just like her father, that one."

I continued through the town, making my way towards home. Not many people were out and about now that the sun had set, but the few that were greeted me warmly as I passed by.

The narrow brick path was lit dimly by the last traces of sunlight in the sky. The street lights began to flicker and were soon illuminating the winding road as well by the time I arrived at my destination.

Warm smells wafted through the inch of open window in the bakery storefront, making their way to my taste buds. My stomach rumbled in reply, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since I'd left that afternoon.

I walked down the back alley, realizing that the shop would be closed by now; too late for me to help with the evening duties before the doors were locked. Pushing through the back door and brushing my feet off in the mudroom, I poked my head through the doorway. I had found the room from which the delicious smells came. Of course, it was the kitchen.

My mom, Mari, was busy baking. What else is new?

Bent over in front of the oven, pulling out a fresh batch of rolls, she looked rather occupied. Bowls and utensils littered the counter, flour covering her workspace in sporadic patches. Bits of dough and various ingredients were stuck to the front of her gray denim apron. As she stood back up and placed the pan filled with bread on the stovetop, I leaned up against the doorframe. After a few moments of her blowing on the rolls and removing her oven mitts, she turned and finally noticed me in the doorway.

"Well, someone's home late," she chastened.

I lifted my hand in a partial wave. "Hey Mom."

She frowned at me. "Where have you been? I had to close up shop without you." Her hands rested on her hips.

I avoided the question with extreme tact and skill. "I must have lost track of time," I explained lamely.

I mean, it wasn't a lie; I hadn't exactly been thinking about what time it was whilst trekking through enormous fields of wheat during my inconclusive adventure. However, it wasn't exactly the most solid excuse.

"Mmhm…" She looked at me with skepticism. Studying my face, she seemed like she was going to press the situation further. Instead, she only sighed in resignation and crossed her arms. "Well, you're going to have to make up for lost time by helping me open shop tomorrow, then."

"Fine," I replied, trying not to let my relief show. I quickly changed the subject to something safer. "Is that a new recipe?"

"Oh, this? It is! I got it from the Osborn's down the street." She began removing the bread from the pan with a spatula, gingerly placing each one on a cooling rack. "They said it was an old family recipe they never got around to trying, and Olive thought I might like to."

I walked closer to inspect the rolls. Spices were sprinkled throughout the dough, which looked buttery-soft. Taking in the delicious scents, my mouth began watering, and my stomach grumbled loudly.

"Go ahead," my mom said, letting out a small laugh. "Just don't burn yourself!"

Her advice came a little too late. I had already scooped up a roll and taken a large bite. I immediately regretted my actions. "Aah!" I exhaled repeatedly, trying to dispel the burning steam from my mouth and dropping the bread on the table.

She cracked. My ears were assaulted by peals of laughter as I stood there, practically becoming a fire-breathing dragon in an attempt to save my mouth from the pain that would follow.

It was too late. I ran, defeated, to the sink, vainly trying to salvage what was left of my taste buds. The cool water came as a relief, but there was nothing more I could do. When I felt safe enough to stop pouring cold water in my mouth, I glanced over to see Mom suppressing giggles in the corner of the room. I shot an accusing look at her. "You betrayed me!"

"I warned you," she corrected, her dimples creasing slightly. I tossed her a look that said "whatever." She rolled her eyes in return. I let a grin slip past my exaggerated disposition and turned to stop the water that was still pouring from the faucet.

I looked up from the sink, and my mom's eyes met mine. Her irises were a kaleidoscope of blue and silver. She sighed, still smiling, but now her gaze was filled with sadness. I peered at her questioningly. She took a few steps forward and placed her hand on the countertop, her finger tracing the edge.

"Your father used to burn his tongue all the time. He said it was because my baking was so good, he just couldn't wait for anything to cool off before he got the first taste." She laughed again, softly, and reached toward me. Her hand brushed my cheek as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You remind me of him so much."

A moment or two passed before she seemed to shake herself out of the fond memories, remembering all at once that she was a mother and needed to stay in the present. "Are you okay?" she asked, although I wasn't entirely sure whether she was referring to the burn or to something else entirely.

"I'm fine. It'll heal in a few days," I replied. I pulled away gently and walked over to the table, picking up the remains of the roll I had bitten from. It had cooled off slightly, but I was still sure to wait a bit longer before taking another bite.

I silently mourned my burnt tongue. I wouldn't be able to properly taste anything for days.

The room was quiet as I slowly finished my dinner and Mom returned to baking. It was rather late by now. The sun had long since set, and I was sure the stars would be extra bright tonight, since it was the new moon.

I finished the roll and reached for another. "I'll be on the roof," I told my mom. She glanced up.

"Be careful."

"I will."

I scaled the staircase, turning left at the top and leaving the house through the door at the end of the hall. After climbing up the metal balcony to the roof, I settled down in my perfect stargazing spot and ate my second roll in silence.

It was a warm summer night. A few lone crickets could be heard somewhere nearby, while the scent of bread mixed with the fresh air and the ever-present smell of dust. A faint glow could be seen coming from the direction of the street. I laid on a makeshift bed of crumpled newspapers and looked straight up. The stars could be seen clearly in the cloudless sky. They dusted the blackened canvas, freckles on the face of a celestial giant.

As I studied the patterns, my eyes tracing the constellations, my mind wandered to the shack I had discovered earlier. The thoughts had been shifting in the back of my head since I had first discovered the strange building. I pondered once more what it might contain. I had so many questions; why was it in the middle of a field? How was it that the door was set so firmly in place, to the point where it didn't even budge? For a building that looked run-down and completely abandoned, it sure didn't feel the part. I started to get the sneaking suspicion that whatever was in that shack was supposed to be a secret. Or, perhaps, I was just being silly. The idea that I might find something exciting behind that door was absurd. I was just overthinking it.

Yes. That was definitely it.

As I pulled my thoughts away from the mysterious building, I found myself thinking once more about the past. More specifically, three years ago.

The last time I saw him I was thirteen. On the night before he left, we had watched the stars, like we normally did. It was our tradition; every night, we would lay on the roof for as long as we could before Mom called us down. He would point out the constellations, calling each by their name, while I would make up names for the stars. They were often ridiculous, but they made my dad laugh, so I kept using wacky names even as I got older.

Sometimes he would sing. He had a soft, husky voice that I had always loved hearing. On some nights, I would sing along, but most nights I only listened. He sang many different songs, but there was one special song he always came back to. He would sing it to me when I was worried or sad or scared. It was a beautiful song, and his voice made it sound all the more enchanting. By the end, I would always feel better than I had before.

I hadn't heard it since… Well, you know. The melody was still fresh in my mind, however.

I was never a terribly good singer. My voice was merely average in comparison to others, but I could at least carry a tune.

I took a deep breath and opened my mouth.

"Kyra, it's time to come inside!" My mom interrupted from the balcony. She must have finished the last batch.

I responded to let her know I heard, then listened for the click of the back door. A gentle sigh escaped my lips.

A fresh breeze stirred the air. Streetlights flickered nearby. I resigned to closing my eyes for a brief moment as my ears were filled with the crickets' mantra.

Reaching up, I was surprised to find that my eyes were damp.

It's been three years. Why am I acting like this? Why? Pull yourself together, I told my aching conscious.

I took a deep, shaky breath and did my best to retreat from my melancholy. Pushing myself up from the ground and away from the past, I forced my breathing to return to normal and wiped the dampness from my eyes. The familiar twinkle of the stars might have comforted me on any other night. However, at the moment they seemed farther away than ever.

I hummed a tune in my head, allowing the flowing melody to soothe my mind. Everything was ok. He might not be here anymore, but that didn't mean that he didn't live on in my memories, as long as I held tight to everything he was- no, is. I would remember him always; his smile, his beautiful voice, his adventurous spirit, and most of all, his songs. I would treasure them always, never forgetting a single note. It was the very least I could do to keep him alive in my heart.

I found myself holding the pendant strapped around my neck. The jagged edges comforted me as I ran my thumb over them. I stood like that for a few moments, gathering my strength.

Finally, I felt ready to return. Mom would be wondering what was taking me so long. I took one last look at the starscape above me. As I turned to go downstairs I saw a shooting star flicker in the corner of my vision. I smiled softly before continuing on my way.

Weary in more ways than one, I plodded back down the hallway and crashed in my room. I sank deeply into my pile of quilted blankets. I felt warm and safe, and fell asleep shortly after feeling my mom's lips press against my forehead and hearing her voice echo on the edge of my dreams as she whispered goodnight.

A/N:

Hello and welcome to CKtTS! I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. It took me forever to finally post but I can assure you that it has been edited to my heart's content, and hopefully to yours.

I'm going to warn you right now; I have been known to… Well… Leave, for very long periods of time. I'm very good at neglecting my fanfictions, to say the least. So, if I suddenly disappear and this is never finished… Well, I'm probably not dead. I most likely just got temporarily bored of it or something. However, if I ever discontinue this permanently, I'll let you all know.

Well, after that lovely disclaimer, I hope you enjoy this fanfiction anyway, no matter how complete it gets!

Also, I just wanted to say, I had a lot of fun building this simple beginning world. However, I've never played Half-Life, so if anything is horribly inaccurate to that side of the Portal universe, I apologize.

Okay, I'll stop rambling now. Hope you enjoy the ride!