They're still after me. The men in white. They wanted the key--my key. I couldn't let them take it; it was special to daddy! Why do they want it? It only unlocked daddy's piano!

I hear them coming now! Oh dear Avo, save me!

"I tell you what, Louisa, your ancestors had problems." Martin said, looking over my shoulder as I read the small make-shift dairy that once belonged to my one of my ancestors. I put the diary back on the shelf and sighed. "She'd probably say the same thing about you if she were still alive."

He laughed. "Yeah, well... I don't know anybody who's one-hundred and twenty years old. Atleast, not around here."

Actually, there were stories of people who were thought to be "immortals" due to their long life spans. Of course, Albion was and has always been full of crazy tales. Like there being an academy for heroes, or the "Hero's Guild" as I've read in different journals and books, near Bower Lake. Apparently the citizens of Albion grew afraid of the place, and burnt it to the ground. Or the hero that saved Albion from a "Jack of Blades" not only once, but twice. And the second time, Jack was in a dragon form. It all sounded like a drunkard's tale.

"And Avo... Who the hell is Avo?"

"The god of light, but beliefs in Avo have been dead for centuries." I explained to my partner.

"Our friend sure didn't think so." Martin pointed out. "But she was young at the time, and we know how children are."

I didn't say anything.

"So... when are we leaving for Oakfield?" Martin finally asked. "Isn't that where Reggie found the documents?"

"Yes." I replied. By "documents", Martin meant all the scraps of paper (also known as my ancestor's make-shift diary) we've found leading to some "magic" piano. More Old Kingdom crap, I concluded. "I wanted to leave by tomorrow morning, but I doubt Reg can arrange a carriage ride for us by then. Maybe sometime this weekend."

"We could walk?" Martin suggested.

"Too dangerous."

Martin sighed. I knew he was anxious to get this stupid little mystery solved. It wasn't that much of a mystery; it was just a really expensive instrument that was very, very special to my great-great-great- grandfather. But Martin and Reg both agreed that I was a "kill-joy", therefore, my theory was dismissed. This was my family we were talking about too! I can say whether or not that generation ago, my family was full of nutters. "So a whole week, eh?"

"Yes." I replied. "Until we hear from Reg again."

"Well if that's the case, I'm going home." He said, looking rather disappointed. "Lily is probably worried about me not being home all the time, especially with Glen being sick all the time."

"You still don't know what's wrong with him?"

Martin shook his head. "Becky brought him to the Abbot last week. He told her that Glen only had a cold. But... I think its more than that. A cold doesn't last five years, Louisa."

"He did have a lot of problems when he was born... Didn't the Abbot say he wouldn't survive?"

"Yeah," Martin replied grimly. "Who knew my little boy would be the diseased kid."

I couldn't help but feel sorry for Martin and his family. He and his wife, have been fighting for their only son's life since the kid was born. I was far too young to understand the difficulty of raising a child, or even marriage, so I spent my time hopeing for the best. "He's strong, like his parents." I said, breaking the silence. "He's lucky to have you as a father, and Lily as a mother. I'm sure he'll make it... I know he'll make it."

Martin only smiled. It looked like he would burst into tears at any moment, poor guy. "Thank you, Louisa." He choked. "And good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night."

I lived by myself in a little house between the alchemist's and book dealer's shops in the Bowerstone marketplace. It wasn't the nicest of houses; it's red paint had faded and started to peal off the walls, and the furniture was in dire need of replacement. I never cared too much about my home because I was always working with Reg and Martin in various areas of Albion, mostly in our little cottage near Bower Lake. I wasn't like Martin, who had a family and an extra job, or Reg, who had nobody and moved around too much. I hated to go to other towns unless it was for research purposes. I was only seventeen, and there weren't any men that met any of my standards. And I could barely stay focused on my current job.

I left my parents without a single goodbye when I was fourteen. Bloodstone was a living hell. Thugs and whores at every corner, and everyone (including my mum and dad) were unbearable to be around. I had no friends or siblings to play or hang out with. I was a very lonely child. I occasionaly thought about my parents, even though I could care less about them. I wouldn't be surprised they got killed in a bandit raid. Hobbes had more intelligence than they, and could probably raise a daughter far better.

I walked through the front door and set down my notes and documents, then went to the cupboard. Empty. I groaned and reached into my pocket, pulling out only a couple of gold coins. "Damn it all!" I cursed. Well, Louisa, I guess you have to go to bed hungry tonight. I walked back to the table with a sigh and sat down on one of the old rickety wooden chairs, picking up the papers once more and began to read.

"It" promised to protect dad's treasure from the mages. The piano is sealed behind "it", and only a member of my bloodline can pass through. Well, Her family can too, since they live in there. I owe Her a lot. She gave me a place to stay, and I will miss her. Her family had been so kind... I wish I didn't have to leave.

"It". "Her". Why couldn't she write out names? Did everyone have to be so complicated back then? I hoped Reg knew...

After a couple of hours of reading, the town crier made his daily time-for-bed announcement. I wished a corrupt adventurer would come by while I was away and murder that annoying bastard, though adventurerers are hard to come by these days. I could dream, I guess. That's all I had left.

Dreams...