Chapter Two

A/N: Thanks to my soul reviewer, thebloodrose, for being so prompt with the encouragement! Thanks so much! Allons-y!!

In her unconscious state, Magdalene dreamed.

She was staring into a full length mirror, clothed in a long, regal dress that was a pure, snowy white. The reflection's icy, blue-white eyes penetrated her own with a knife-like sharpness as though she could see right into Magdalene's tormented heart. Just then, in the mirror, a dark, cloaked figure approached the Magdalene-in-the-Mirror with a small hand axe raised threateningly over her head. The real Magdalene tried to warn her other self of the danger she was in, but the menacing figure was too quick for her. He brought the axe down on the pale reflection's head with a loud, porcelain-like crack. Magdalene watched in wide-eyed, open-mouthed horror as her reflection cracked into a thousand tiny shards, revealing bleak, lonely emptiness within…

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She was walking through a forest, green and leafy in the last throes of summer. A warm breeze tickled her cheek, causing her to smile. Her heart soared as she watched a pair of sparrow chasing each other through the bright canopy of leaves above her head. Then she heard a voice calling her name.

'Magdalene!'

She turned, and grinned again as her gaze landed on Fionn. He was also smiling, and holding out his arms in expectation of a hug. Giggling, she ran to him and flung her arms around his neck, glad to be with him again.

But then the pleasant vision turned into a nightmare. Fionn let out a cry of pain and pushed her away slightly, looking in horror at his midriff. Magdalene followed his eyes, and screamed in terror as she saw a crimson rose blossoming over his green tunic. Before she could gather her senses and attempt to staunch the bleeding, Fionn looked at her in shock. 'You… it was you…' And with that, he slipped out of his mortal shell, leaving Magdalene alone to grieve in the forest which had suddenly turned cold and forbidding…

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She was walking along in a dream state, unsure of what she was doing. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. The wind was too soft, the sunlight to pale to be real. And then she saw it- the figure of her mother, standing by the wooden fence, staring at her.

It was the presence that made Magdalene feel uneasy. The eeriness of seeing her mother, after she'd been dead for four years, made tingles run up and down her spine. She approached the woman carefully, checking to make sure that it was indeed her mother. And it was.

'Mamma?' she hazarded, drawing nearer to the pale woman.

Her mother let slip a tight-lipped smile. 'Yes.'

'But… you…' Magdalene stammered, unsure of what to say. There was a change in her mother. Something…

Her eyes. Yes, it was her eyes. They had turned a disturbing red color that made Magdalene take a step backward.

Her mother turned away from her, as though in shame, a thin, bony hand covering her face. Then she whipped back around… and struck…

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'Oy!' was the first sound she heard as she tugged her way back to consciousness. 'What do you think you're doin', then?' All Magdalene could deduce from the voice was that her assailant was a man.

She opened her eyes blearily and saw a pair of shoes, presumably attached to a pair of legs, but Magdalene couldn't be sure, seeing as her vision was still a bit cloudy. She could feel a hard surface beneath her, and registered the strange, slightly twisted position she'd landed in. Her head was pounding painfully, and her whole body felt as though it had been hit by a falling boulder. She let out a groan and blinked, willing her vision to clear up. And, obligingly, it did so. The pair of shoes were attached to legs, after all. Legs swathed in a strange, blueish material. And the shoes were odd, too. Not the hunting boots Magdalene was used to seeing on men where she came from. More like… leather slippers with white laces. She followed the line of the person's legs and made her way up to the face. He was a husky man, well-built and hefty. His eyes were small and dark, far apart on his face. His hair was a nondescript brown, common, nothing remarkable. The expression on that plain face, however, piqued Magdalene's interest. Why was he staring at her like that?

'Who… what… where am I?' Magdalene asked in a voice that was low, almost rough with disuse these past couple days.

'What do you mean, where are you?' he cried with a laugh. 'Are you daft?'

Daft? What in the world does "daft" mean? she wondered. 'I don't believe so,' she answered. 'And by my question, I meant what I said. Where in the name of all that is holy am I?' she demanded in an irritated snarl, furiously rubbing her right shoulder in an effort to rid the joint of pain.

'You're in Cardiff, ain't ye?' he said, acting as thought she was crazy.

Maybe I am, she reflected.

'Rhys!' called a woman's voice from a slight distance. 'Rhys, what's keeping you?'

Reflexes depressingly slow, Magdalene turned her head to stare around. There was, swiftly approaching, a woman. She was as strangely-clothed as the man. She took one look and Magdalene, prostrate on the ground, and at the man, and asked, 'Who's this?'

'No idea,' the man- Rhys- answered. 'I was just asking.'

Magdalene shook her head. Things were getting just a bit too weird for her. She attempted to push herself to her feet, but her arms shook so violently that she flopped right back down again onto the strange, bumpy surface.

'Whoa!' the woman cried, lunging forward to help her. She gently slipped her hands through one of Magdalene's crooked elbows and helped her to her feet. 'Are you all right?' she asked concernedly, her blue-green eyes full of sincere worry. Magdalene decided that she liked the woman. She was kind, even to strangers that, presumably, fell out of the sky and landed in her life. 'What happened?' she inquired.

Magdalene shook her head. 'I'm not altogether sure…' she answered, bringing a hand to her head and closing her eyes as the woman guided her to a bench, whose paint was dull and peeling.

'Too much drink, lass?' chuckled the man. Him, Magdalene did not like. He seemed a perfect example of the royal jerk.

But which sounded more believable? I drank too much mead, or I was running from a pack or mad dogs who were out for my blood since I killed my fiancée who'd just slain my lover, and I was suddenly falling through a pool of blackness and ended up here after having a series of ridiculous dreams that seemed drug-induced though I was perfectly sober at the time? To Magdalene, the choice was obvious. So she nodded dully in answer to the twittish man's question.

'Rhys, just shut up,' the woman snapped. 'Here, just sit down,' she instructed Magdalene gently. 'A better place to rest than the sidewalk, at any rate.'

Magdalene opened her eyes again as she was slowly lowered the rough surface of the bench. 'Thank you,' she told the woman, trying to put her sincere gratitude into her eyes. 'Really, thank you.'

The woman smiled and waved as she went to rejoin the man. Magdalene felt sorry for her, as she seemed to be either related to or going out with the rude man.

As the two walked away, Magdalene looked around her. This place was so… there was no other word for it: bizarre. There was a smooth stone causeway, on which strange-shaped carriages with no horses traveled. There was one familiar thing: a lamp post, but not with the gas-powered light that Magdalene was used to. People in clothing that resembled the pair she'd just been talking to walked by, not one of them looking too happy. Though curious about this strange new world she was suddenly in, Magdalene was wary and slightly scared. How could she get home? Or did she even want to go home? Was there any point in going back to a land in which she was wanted for murder? But staying in this world… how could she scrape by? She'd seen beggars in her homeland, and hadn't thought much of their chances for either survival or happiness. But what could she possibly do to avoid such a life, now that she was here, stranded and alone?

No matter what happened in the future, however, Magdalene was grateful for the rest she was getting. Instead of being chased by dogs, she'd just woken up from a god knows how long slumber and was currently sitting in a state of complete stillness. The rest was welcome to Magdalene, who let out a sigh and tried not to think about the future, or to drown herself in the past (for the magnitude of the last few days had not yet had time to catch up with her, and she wasn't looking forward to that time when it finally came). Instead, she was determined to revel in the present, which was by no means disagreeable.