"And you're sure you saw it here?" "Yup. Me and the guys were coming out of the mines when bam there's this flash of light at the town line. I gotta grab some grub at Granny's, hope you find something." Were Leroy's last words before he disappeared in his truck. Emma stared at the town line, leaning on her yellow bug.

Night had just fallen in Storybrooke and Emma had been about to close the sheriff's station when she received a peculiar call from Leroy. A subtle, rustling noise sounded from the bushes lining the road. Emma drew her gun from its holster.

"Who's there?" A figure stepped out from behind the foliage and Emma put away the weapon, trading it for a flashlight. "I'm not gonna hurt you." She said, turning it on. The light revealed a girl around Henry's age with dark, wavy hair and sapphire eyes squinting in the sudden illumination. A quiver of arrows was slung across her back and a bow rested on her shoulder. "Who are you?" The girl turned her head left and right in attempt to examine her surroundings. "Where am I?" Her voice was tinged with a slight fear. Emma cocked her head in disbelief. "Storybrooke, why?" "What year is it?" She was becoming persistent. "Two thousand fourteen, almost two thousand fifteen." The girl's lips slid into a smile. "Perfect," She spun around in glee, laughing, turning her face skyward.

"Ray! WE DID IT!"

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"...Mother? Mother?" The girl shook the unresponsive woman sitting on her bed, staring bleakly through the window at the overcast skies outside the cottage they both were in.. "Mother, please get up. It's been two days, we miss you," The girl sniffled as a single tear rolled down her left cheek.

"We love you." A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door. A boy opened the door.

"No luck?" The girl wiped her eyes and exited the room. "None, but I will never stop trying." The boy embraced her in a reassuring hug. He kissed the top of her head.

"Don't worry sister. She'll come back to us, someday. We just have to be patient."

"STEW'S READY!" The boy called from the kitchen. The girl abandoned the book she'd been reading, about swashbuckling pirates, a land you could live forever in, and the characters who never left family behind, and could always find each other, no matter what.

"I'm here, I'm here, keep your shirt on." She plopped down on a chair. The boy chuckled as he poured the warm liquid into three bowls, revealing his dimples. He placed them onto the table, one for him, one for his sister, the other when their mother returned and sat down.

"I mourn him too, you know. But to truly honor his memory, shouldn't we move forward?'

The girl asked her brother. "She knew him even before we were born, it makes sense if she misses him a tad more." He replied, taking a sip. A thumping coming from their mother's room startled the duo, who both looked up to see her. She was mumbling, disheveled and in a haze. "Get out." She said the order softly, as if the words coming from her mouth weren't hers. "What?" Her daughter breathed in disbelief. "I said GET OUT! LEAVE THIS HOUSE AT ONCE, PACK IF YOU HAVE TO, BUT I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACES IN MY LIFE EVER AGAIN!" "Why?" It was her son to question her now. "BECAUSE ALL YOU'VE BEEN THIRTEEN YEARS IS TROUBLE, I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO MY INSTINCT AND LEFT YOU WHERE YOU WERE, IN THE FOREST LEFT TO DIE!" Both boy and girl now stood face to face with their mother. "Mother, this isn't you, what happen-" The woman's eyes were wild with fury. "SHUT UP! YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND, YOU-YOU-WITCH!" The girl was struck with her words, clenching her hand into a fist, not knowing it was turning into a smoldering fireball. "I didn't do it!" "YOU'RE CURSED! NOW RID YOURSELF FROM MY HOME OR I'LL HAVE THE SHERIFF ARREST YOU FOR WITCHCRAFT!" The girl took a brave step forward. "Mother this isn't you. Listen to yourself!" The widow's lips curled back into a sneer. "DO NOT CALL ME THAT. NOW GO!" "No mother, I love you, and when you love someone, you never give up on them." "WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT!" The crazy widow pushed the girl forcefully to the floor, who just rose to her feet again, and threw back her arm and opened her palm, as her brother looked on in horror, as the woman screeched in pain, the scorching flames licking at her dress and fainted. The girl left the scene and grabbed her backpack and stuffed some things into it and the boy did the same. "Let's go."

Neither sibling was near the house that evening, when a shadowy carriage arrived at the doorstep, and a single, pompously-dressed figure disembarked, and searched the house, and sighted the book, lovingly laying a gloved hand over the cover bearing the title, Once Upon A Time. But that was not the figure's object of interest, a murmur came from the kitchen, and it arrived there to see the woman, partially burned, rising to her feet. Seeing the figure, she screamed in fright and began to slowly back away. "I know who you are. Why are you here and where are my children?" Saying nothing, the figure untied a small pouch from its belt and produced the inside. The glowing red orb pulsed with life in the figure's hand.

"No, NO!" With a deft squeeze of its fist, all that remained of the orb was a gray dust that trickled to the ground and the woman fell to the floor again-this time, dead.