Right, now we continue our journey with Sparrow. I got five reviews so far, yahooo! I was in the clouds. Thank you to everyone that reviewed so far! Oh, and to answer a question from DianaP: Who knows if Reaver has ulterior motives, it's Reaver after all.

Oh, FYI, it usually takes me a while to update, but if it takes longer than a year, you'll know that BosBaBe and I have tragically killed each other. (She's an Ulquiorra fangirl and I'm a Grimmjow fangirl. We actually got so enwrapped in our argument that we started stabbing each other with laundry pegs. ^^ It was a real blast.) Well, lest I want to bore you, lets get on with the story.

Enjoy chapter 02:

Ripple

Sparrow breathed slowly but she would live yet another day. The pillow at her head was soft and the blankets were warm. She reached out from under the blanket to rub Russell's head, but she grabbed at empty air. She shifted her feet, expecting to have them pinned under the hound's heavy body, but… there was nothing. Her blue eyes shot open. Her bed was smaller than what she remembered... She looked around the house. She wasn't in Oakfield. The house was small; a single room house, just like her own house. The bed was in the far corner of the room, somewhat secluded from the rest of the room. A small wooden drawer chest was at the foot of the bed. A dining room table was relatively in the middle of the room and behind that was the small kitchen area, with the food cabinet, table and sink, but no stove. A small fire was blazing in a brick fireplace near the door. The rest of the place was sparsely decorated, or not decorated at all.

Sparrow tossed the blanket aside and planted her bare feet on the wooden floor. The young Hero stood up and felt a hem flutter at her legs and the air chill her arms.

I'm wearing a dress? Panic sank in her stomach. She remembered being shot at by lightening, passing out, and waking up to see a blurred figure run to her. Right, time for major crisis management here, Sparrow... … … … First of all, I need to raid this person's food cabinet. She trotted over to the food cabinet and swung the doors wide open. Large, juicy fruits seemed to dance in front of her as she grabbed them greedily and cradled them into her embrace. She dumped them all down onto the chopping table and scratched around in the other cabinets for a knife and finally found one in the food cabinet. Once she sliced and diced the fruit all together in chunks, she reached for a clay bowl on top of the cabinet, but she was too short. Sparrow stretched her figure out until she balanced on the balls of her feet.

"Mother of Avo!" She cried out as she settled back flat on her feet. She attempted again and this time had more success: she touched the brim of the bowl! Sparrow had it right at her fingertips when it tipped over the edge. The young Hero summoned up a cushion of wind to stop it from shattering on her head, and she managed to keep the bowl perfectly intact. She scrapped all the fruit into the bowl and grabbed a clean spoon that had been lying on the chopping table. She wolfed all the fruit down and retired to the arm chair by the fireplace. Sparrow curled up onto the chair and watched the flames crackle and dance.

Without realizing it, she had fallen asleep again while she was in front of the fire. The shuffle of feet behind her had awoken her from her black slumber. Sparrow glanced over the back of the chair and saw a man with brunette hair in front of the sink, washing plates. He was dressed plainly in a worker's shirt, and loose fitting trousers. From what Sparrow could make out from her angle, he was rather muscular. He had wonderfully tanned skin from hours of long, hard labour no doubt.

"I see you made yourself right at home, didn't you, lady." He said but didn't stop with the washing to look at her.

Lady? ... What am I, royalty? When the young Hero looked again, he was at his bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Sparrow felt her heart jump in her throat as his back muscles tensed at his movement. Sparrow flushed and sank back into the chair. A hot mug of tea sat on a simple wood end table next to her. She took the cup in hand and sipped at the warm brew. She stood as well and looked to her host. Who is this man? Well, at least he has a drop dead gorgeous body, Sparrow chanted happily to herself. I wonder if his face is half as good looking.

The man was heading out the door when Sparrow had looked at him, but still only saw the back of his head. "I'll be back now. I just need to go and draw some water," he said, standing in the doorway, "that is if you want a hot bath?"

"I'd like that, thank you very much." He went off and for the first time she realized that her weapons were gone too. Her first thought was to search the chest at the bed and as luck had it, they were there; waiting for her. She saw her clothes and quickly yanked them on. Her arm brushed past an uneven part at her stomach.

The young Hero pulled the white dress over her head, but not without a sharp spike of pain from her wound. Sparrow looked down at herself and saw the raw, unsightly scar stretched across the right side of her stomach. Her shirt had a hole in it, and it displayed the raw, pink, fleshy wound, but it was better than a dress. Once she was in her own clothes and her Calavera was close at hand, she settled back by the fireplace and finished her tea.

The man returned twenty minutes later and when Sparrow finally saw his face, she grabbed the mug and chucked it all the way across the room to hit the man. But Sparrow missed for the first time in her life.

"You think this is some joke don't you?" She raved. "Well, I'm waiting for the big punch line that says 'you got powned'!" The man was thrown back at her sudden rage. "I'll even bet you put that dress on me, you sick bastard." She took Calavera in hand. "Well … … I'm waiting! Where is your usual wise ass remark now, huh?"

"Lady, I m-"

"Drop the act, Reaver, its grown old now. Fun while it lasted right? ... And STOP calling me 'lady', you know I barely tolerate your 'my dear' and 'lovely'."

"I think you have me confused with someone, I found you out in the wood by the old gate, late yesterday." He seemed very stern and to-the-fact with what he told her. Sparrow however was convinced that it was all part of his master plan to get back at her for the beetle incident. "My name is Aeden. And you are currently in Oakvale."

This has to be some other ruse. Reaver would never joke about being in Oakvale, not even to get back at me, but I still don't like this!

Reaver or Aeden walked into the house and sat down at the fireplace. "I already boiled the water for you. The bath house is outside, a little to the left once you're out the door." Sparrow followed his directions to the bath house. In it was a large wooden tub filled with steaming water. She kicked her boots off and rid herself of her clothes and stepped into the bath. She soaked in the bath for a while before she got hold of a cake of white soap and properly washed herself. Her wound was throbbing and the warm water stung the raw, healing flesh but her mind was too fogged to pay any heed to pain.

She drew her legs close to her chest and tucked her knees under her chin. She felt so confused. She had used the Brightwood cullis gate to get to Wraithmarsh, not to get sent five hundred years back to Oakvale. She pondered on multiple theories but none of them seemed to justify her situation.

Well, I think I've done enough thinking to last me a week. And when I get my hands on Garth, he'll wish he was the one sent back in time. Sparrow remembered when they were all supposed to go to Wraithmarsh to find the Hero of Skill but everyone, save Sparrow, was relayed back to the Guild.

The young Hero forced herself from the warm refuge of the bath house and returned to Reaver ... Aeden, who was in the house. She found him at the dining room table with a bow and a quiver of arrows out on the table before him. He strung the bow tightly and swiftly like he had been doing it all his life. He noticed her in the corner of his eye but made a point to ignore her. Sparrow dropped down in a chair opposite him.

"Look..." She had planned the entire speech in her head, but now the whole thing just seemed ridiculous. "I- well..." He had a smile on his lips as he listened to her stumble and stutter. "I'm... sorry for what I said and did earlier, it was inappropriate. I didn't expect end up here... in Wrai—Oakvale." Reaver looked at her with his sea green eyes. "It's alright, besides I managed to dodge that mug, so no real harm done."

"So, you hunt?" A giggle slipped out at the end, but she never really pictured Reaver ever having anything but his Dragonstomper, let alone a bow!

"Yes, I'm the only man in Oakvale that can actually hit a moving target, be it deer or bandits." He stood up and went over to his food cabinet. "You must be hungry after that long nap of yours, right?" he withdrew some cold cooked meat and handed it to her in a plate. He laughed the entire time she ate. "I have to be honest; I have never seen a woman eat a portion of venison that ravishingly or as fast." Sparrow had heard all that before and simply shrugged. "You are a very strange woman." She leaned back in the chair, completely at ease in his company. "Oh, really? And why would that be, kind ser?" The room was filled with his warm laughter. "For one, you dislike being called lady. Two, you travel around with a mace, and third, you eat far more than any woman I have ever seen."

Sparrow and Aeden spent hours just talking and she had slipped the topic of farming in and immediately apologized and tried to change the subject. "Why are you apologizing? I've done my fair share of farming in the day, but now a days, I'm more of the village hunter than anything else… but a beautiful woman such as yourself getting her hands all dirty, quite… a riveting sight." Sparrow's cheeks were pink from the comment, true Reaver was more… open about his thoughts, but being with him now, as Aeden was… was it different? The selfish bastard had to be there somewhere, deep inside, just waiting to pounce upon him.

"I have to come to a disturbing realization: I don't even know your name, dear lady-"

"For one, don't be calling me lady!" She snapped at him. "Well, I suppose I can tell you…" She didn't finish her sentence, just sat there staring off in the other direction. "…And… your name would be?" He asked after she failed to fill in the missing word.

Loud bangs on the door prevented Sparrow from telling her name and she found herself thanking Avo for the interruption.

"'Ello?" Aeden swung the door open and looked down at a small, tan dressed girl at the door, and then to the well risen sun. "Oh, sod!" He sprinted away cursing like he had no tomorrow. The two had spent all night talking. He was enjoying her company so much that he had paid no attention to the sunlight that had spilled through his windows. The young Hero was stunned at his curse, but was anxious about the little girl that was staring right at her, like she drinking up her very soul.

The girl trotted over to Sparrow and poked at her arm. "Hey, you're real!" A happy gleam spanned on her chubby features. The young Hero raised an eyebrow. She wondered if she really looked that bad. "Um… I would hope so…" It was all she managed to think of.

"Wow, a real lady!" Sparrow twitched at the word lady.

Is there some sign on me that says "Hey, I'm called Lady, pleased to meet you!"? I look like street dirt right now; no noble would touch me with a ten-foot-pole. Sparrow gave the girl a wavering smile. "I'm not a lady; I'm far from it actually."

The girl's hands covered her hands to hide a gasp. "But you're too pretty to not be a lady! You're also in Deny's house, so you have to be pretty."

Now the little girl had done it, now she was curious. "What do you mean by that? So what, I'm in his house. I probably interrupted his late night entertainment." The girl just looked at her like she was a complete idiot.

"No, no! No girls ever in Deny's house, only me. The older girls push me round jus' cause Deny lets me in his house." Sparrow analysed the girl for a moment. She couldn't have been older than six and little horny teenage girls were pushing her around? "Well, where did Reaver – I mean Aeden run off to just now?" I knelt down next to her so that I could look her in the eye. She was a pretty girl, and would probably become a beautiful young woman. Her cheeks were sprinkled with brown freckles, her eyes hazel, big and loving, and her hair was a mass of thick, brown curls that spilled over her shoulders. Sparrow felt a sudden urge to hug the child to death.

"He went to help my Papa with the soil titling today, but he is an hour late." Soft childish giggles came from the girl. She took Sparrow's rough, slender hand in her small one and pulled her outside the door. "Come, I show you." They were at a gate when Sparrow turned back and collected Calavera. She didn't want to scare the locals with her pistol though, so she left that in the chest.

"Come, on! Hurry up!" She laughed at Sparrow as a walked even slower. "Why are old people so mean?" She grabbed the young Hero's hand again and pulled her along. Old? She called Sparrow old. She immediately wondered if she did look old, but shut that thought out of her head. She had to get back to her present Albion and defeat Lucien.

The girl led Sparrow over hills and into moist brown fields, waiting to be replanted with seeds. Oxen pulled the ploughs while some men hacked at the ground with pitch axe, and the woman had their aprons bundled up in their hands, filled with seeds that they would place in the ground.

"We wait here," the girl pointed at a fence that bordered the fields.

Sparrow placed the girl up on the fence and sat next to her, her eyes, scanning for Reaver. She found him way ahead of the oxen, breaking up the hard ground. The sunlight reflected off his body in a shimmer from his perspiration. He had worn so many clothes when Sparrow first met him that she never would have guessed he was that well built.

The young Hero talked to the girl, somehow, foolishly hoping she would know someone who would know a way back to Albion. "M' name is Clara, and yours, lady?" Clara asked with her child-like curiosity.

"Well, I guess I might as well tell you. My name is Evana, but you can call me, Van." It was the first time in a long time she had actually spoken her own name. Only Rose and Theresa knew her real name.

"Okay, Vannie!" Clara seemed to have a habit of adding an 'ie' after a person's name. A woman called after Clara and she told Sparrow to find her again in the village.

She did just that almost a minute later. She browsed through the small stalls and she had earned more than half a by-passer's glance, but she couldn't hold them guilty exactly; she was wearing a half burned shirt and a scary-looking mace strapped to her back. She had asked if there was a leather tanner near by and as luck had it, there was one on the west ways, outside of the village.

The strong smell of processed animal hide was a very alluring smell for the young Hero, even though some people couldn't stand it. It reminded her much of growing up in Old Town. Rose once worked for a leather tanner for about an autumn, before it was shut down by Nicky the Nickname and his lot. Inside there were men, both young and old alike that were hard at work stretching and boiling the hides. To one side an old man crept out of the corner and regarded Sparrow.

"Anything I can do for ya?"

Sparrow gave an unsuspected smile to the old man. "Yes, I hope you can. Do you have any proper travelling boots and a light leather coat?" The old man grunted and scratched his thinning hairline. "The boots I can give you now… but the coat…" He moved his hand to his bearded chin. "I can make you a coat fashioned similar to the one you have on but it'll take time – and four gold." Sparrow nearly laughed at the price, but realized that she was five hundred years in the past and then, four gold pieces was a lot of money. "Alright, you got yourself a deal." The two shook hands and the young Hero handed over the four pieces. The old man took her to their stall area and showed all the boots they had currently. She grabbed a pair of darkly stained ones and left.

Right, next stop, clothes stall, she thought dreadfully to herself. She saw a whole range of different dresses, all in different colours or patterns, but that was not quite what she was looking for. "Um, excuse me, ma'am?" She got the attention of the plump stall vendor. "Hi, would you have any shirts on sale?"

"Oh, you mean those ugly ones the men wear?" Sparrow nodded eagerly. "But they are too ugly for any woman to wear. Why not take a dress or skirt instead, much more lady-like." She held up a dark green dress to the young Hero's face, nearly smothering her with the thick material. Sparrow yanked the dress out of the woman's sausage fingers, and creased the material in her clenched first. Now she really wanted to go home to Oakfield.

"Look…" Sparrow took a deep, calming breath before she went on. "I just want the shirt… please." The woman obliged and took out a yellowish coloured shirt from behind the counter. The young Hero held it up against her body. It would be a bit of a loose fit, but it would have to do. "This'll do. How much do I owe ya?"

"One silver and fifty copper pieces." Sparrow took a single gold piece from her money pouch and flicked it into the woman's hands, who seemed to be awe-struck from the sight of a solid piece of gold. Sparrow swung her newly purchased shirt over her shoulder, shoved her feet through the new boots, discarded the worn-out pair, and wondered through the village. There was nothing moderately interesting there, even in the little square. The women were crowded around the water well, in the centre of the square. They seemed no older than Sparrow, but some already had little tykes trotting around their feet. They all laughed and chatted around each other, but once they caught sight of the young Hero making her way past them and to the other side of the square, they stopped talking and looked at her with blazing eyes. A middle-aged woman broke through the tight bunch of woman and strode after Sparrow.

"Excuse me?" She called after Sparrow. She stopped in her tracks and looked out at the woman. "So, you must be the young woman Clara was talking about." It was then that she noticed Clara practically hanging around the woman's legs. The girl gave her toothy smile and continued twirling.

"Really, what gave me away?" She replied. The woman laughed a bit before she regained her composure.

"A joker, this place could really use more of you then. Oh, pardon me, I'm Janise, Clara's mother." Her hand rested lightly on Clara's head before she turned her attention back to the young Hero. Janise had streaks of grey among her bundle of brown curls, as well as a face as freckled as her daughter's. She seemed a little too old to have a six year old child.

Sparrow noticed that she was waiting for the young Hero to give her name in return. "Oh… um, I'm Evana." Clara smiled again. "Yep, that's Vannie, alright!" The girl tore herself from her mother and grabbed the young Hero's hand and tugged at it with a surprising force. "Vannie, will you make some bread with us, pweddy pweese!" She was pouting her upper lip in a quiver that made Sparrow want to give the child anything she might have asked for.

"There's no need, I have enough hands in the kitchen, but you're more than welcome to sit by us while you wait for Aeden to finish his work in the fields." The young Hero gave a confused muffle from her mouth. Does it look like I'm the type of girl that waits around for a man, much less Reaver-Aeden, whatever he calls himself! She whined inwardly. I have nothing else to do, so I might as well kill some time. I can delay my little quest for answers until tomorrow.

XxxxX

Janise's house was small, but it was a double story, so she had more than most in the village. Sparrow had met the three youngest of Janise's children (excluding Clara), of which two were twin boys around about the age of eight named Tim and Jack. The older one was a thirteen year old girl named Sasha. In the kitchen, Sparrow sat to one side at the dinner table, while Janise and her two girls made the dough. Clara was coated in white flower and playfully smeared it all over her sister's face, who gave her the same treatment in return, but with great care.

Once the bread was in the oven, Janise put Sasha in charge of cleaning up her younger siblings in the wash house out back. In a moment a welcome silence filled house. The older woman settled in a chair beside Sparrow and scanned her head to toe. "So…" she began, "How did you and Aeden land up together?"

Sparrow felt her cheeks sprinkle with pink. Was that what everyone thought of them? A damn couple? "Ahm, it's nothing like that at all! We… He found me the other day unconscious outside the village and took me in and dressed my wound; that is all."

"Aw, and here I finally thought he'd found someone to dig the furrow with."

"Huh?"

"Come now," Janise nudge the young Hero with her elbow. "He's the most attractive man in this village with his hard body, tanned skin, lushes brown hair, soul-piercing sea green eyes, and a voice like none other, like he was a gift to woman from Avo! But, sadly he's old enough to be one of my sons so…"

Sparrow sat in her chair, but shifted about, suddenly all too aware of the hard, creaky wooden chair she sat on. 'I-I suppose he's not bad-"

"How does a pretty thing like yourself say something like that, hmn? He could have any woman he wanted, hell, he could've had them all in one go if he wanted, but it seems like he has no interest in 'em. But you, Evana, it seems he has an interest in you – now don't give me lip that he found you and all the other night… I saw the way he watched you this mornin' when you and Clara came to the fields. The man wouldn't take his eyes of ya, and nearly stabbed his own foot with that pitch fork of his while he was lookin' too!"

Sparrow refused to register what she had just heard. Reaver was not interested in woman? The very idea was beyond ludicrous. Why the interest in Sparrow? She was as independent as a young man, she fought like one too. She wore no make-up, she never styled her hair, she just let the bangs fall where they pleased, and she didn't even dress remotely like a woman. The young Hero never admitted to anyone but she had her fair share of scars, not to mention her latest addition she got a day ago, and that one was as ugly as they came. It splayed over the right side of her abdomen, from her hip to her naval. She could already tell that the scar tissue was going to be uneven, maybe it would make one of those dreaded lumps, and she prayed dearly that that wouldn't happen in her case.

"Hey, Ma, we're home!" A voice announced all the way from the front door. "'Nd Aeden's with us!" Janise got to her feet and greeted whoever was at the door. When she returned a file of young men were after her. "Evana, this is Edgar, Jamis and this handsome man back 'ere is m' husband, George." The first son, Edgar, was tall, had some muscle on him, straight nose, blue eyes, and a clean-shaven head. The second was lanky and much too scrawny in the young Hero's opinion, but had a voice silk-like enough to draw any woman to his bed. Then there was George, Janise's husband, his face brown from a life time of labour spent in the fields, he had grey sideburns that hadn't been cut in what seemed like a good decade. His hair was grey, with only the faintest hints of yellow strands, well, the hair he had left anyway. Janise pecked him on the cheek, her hair tickled his nose, making him wrinkle it in an odd way.

"Well," George turned his attention towards Sparrow. "This must be the new lady in town." There is was, the word 'lady'. The young Hero had to force herself down from nearly verbally attacking the poor man. "Really, who woudda guessed?" She clenched her fist on her lap slightly. "Haha! A joker, this town could use you then! Bu' all they said abou' ya was ta look out of the lady, with night-black hair, a scary lookin' mace and a raw burn on her stomach." The statement made her very conscious of the wound at that moment.

"Aeden, darling, are th' two of ye going to stay for dinner?" Janise asked him. He was dressed in a slack, paper-like looking shirt with leather ties in the front that he left undone. "Sorry, Janise, I think maybe another time, when the lady is more acquainted with everyone, but thank you for the thought." He sent a nod Sparrow's way and she knew he was telling her to leave with him. She walked after him. At the door, he held it open for her, and she was stunned by his manners, but continued walking and went out the door and waited by the gate.

When they got to his house, he threw himself down into the chair by the fire and gave a loud sigh of content. The young Hero closed the door and locked it. She set Calavera down by the wall next to the door and strode over to the kitchen area. She took a painted clay mug from a shelf and filled it to the brim with water. She turned on her heel and stood next to the exhausted hunter. "Here," she put held the mug in front of his face. "Looks like you could use it." He smiled and enclosed his hands around hers. Sparrow felt slightly uncomfortable with his hands directly over her own hand like that, and slipped it out of his soft touch.

"Thanks," he lifted the mug and drank a steady amount of the cool water. When he lowered it from his face, he seemed more rejuvenated in a way. "So… Your name is Evana?" She flinched, realizing that she told the old woman her name, but she had yet to tell him her real name, he didn't even know what her moniker was. She took a chair from the dinning room table and put it in front of the fire, beside his. "Um… Yeah, I suppose it is…" She saw he was a little angry with her. But then again Reaver was angry at her on a regular basis when she purposefully took too long to kill one thing, and then something would attack him, so why did she feel disappointed that she made him angry?

"A very pretty name you have then."

"…Thanks…"

The two sat in slice, both watching the fire crackle and dance in front of them. Sparrow noticed the glow of the fire gave his tanned skin a godly golden glow, and as if he sensed her stare, he looked her way and the young Hero immediately averted her eyes down and looked straight at her lap. She sat in that position for what seemed like eternity. When she finally got a smidgen of courage to look up, she saw that he was fast asleep in his chair. Sparrow stood and took the mug from his hand and put it down on the table, she got a blanket out from the chest at the foot of his bed and threw it ever so gently over his sleeping form.

She felt somewhat guilty that she got to sleep in a bed while he slept in the chair, even though it was in front of a fire, the chair was hard and not that comfortable to wake up in, and that she knew form experience. She shrugged off her coat, draping it over the chest and kicked off her new boots, making them lie under the bed. Getting under that sheet she let out a heavy breath and recollected the day's events. Sometime while she was thinking she had fallen asleep and was now tossing about the bed. With every slight turn the bed creaked and wailed under the shifting pressure of Sparrow's body.

A blue light emanated to a ruby red tone. Sparrow turned about, observing what was happening while Rose feared for their safety, but she didn't understand why her big sister worried so; he was a kind man after all, he would hurt two innocent street children, would he?

"My Lord, what's going on?" Rose asked over the hum the circle made. Lord Lucien stood hunched over his desk scattered with papers. "You aren't any of the three, one of you is the fourth." He grabbed a pistol that had been lying on the desk and pointed the barrel straight at Rose. "This isn't what I wanted, but nothing must stand in my way!"

Every seemed to slow down. Young Sparrow looked to her older sister whose eyes were wide drawn with fear, but not fear for her own safety, but for that of her little sister.

"No, wait! Please! Nooooooo…" Lucien pulled the trigger. Sparrow kept her eyes fixed on her older sister. A loud bang rang in the bowls of her ears. She saw Rose take a fraction of a step backwards before shreds of flower petal formed blood erupted from her chest. Lucien shifted the gun to level with Sparrow's chest.

"I'm sorry." He said before he pulled the trigger and sent the younger through the window. Unknown to the lord, the shot had created something entirely new: A child that would grow with hatred and vengeance in her heart.

She tossed more violently than she had before. "No… Rose… come back…" She shouted the words out in her sleep. Firm hands shook her, and made her flash her sky-blue eyes open and force the person to the floor. Coiling her fist and raising it high, she crackled lightening around her clenched fingers.

"Evana!"

That single word made her actually look who had woken her. She blankly stared down at Reaver who was lying flat on the floor. She extinguished the lightening and pushed herself off of him. The young Hero sat with her back supported by the bed, her legs curled up and her head hanging in between her arms.

"I could have killed you." That was all she wanted to say.

"I saw so, but luckily you didn't," he got to a sitting position on the floor and looked at her. "Not many people can use magic around here, so I think you should keep your Will skills to yourself for the moment." He watched her in silence. He stood up and held out his hand to her. "I'm not gonna strike at you for nearly killing me, you know." Sparrow didn't say anything.

You should. I nearly killed the Hero of Skill, and then what would have happened in my present day without him? She scolded herself for almost killing him.

"I know you won't but promise me this: You'll never wake me up, no matter how bad of a nightmare it might seem, don't wake me up!" She took his hand and he hoisted her up to her feet. While he did it gently, she wasn't expecting that much force from the pull and so she stumbled into him. The side of her face was resting completely on his cool, bare chest, and her free hand on his hard muscled abdomen. Sparrow felt her heart pace in her chest like a wild chicken on the run. The young Hero took a step back and cleared her dry throat.

"I'll go draw you some water so you can wash." He said, brushing past her ever so slightly. Sparrow was all alone with her thoughts.

XxxxX

76 minutes later.

Once she wore her new shirt and boots, Sparrow perched herself on a moderately flat surfaced rock that only a few yards away from the dark-looking, green tree line. She had asked Rea—Aeden about it earlier and he said that it was a large forest that sat between Oakvale and Westcliffe, and get this, there was apparently a gypsy camp somewhere in that forest and Sparrow being Sparrow had a good mind to go in there and find them. The young Hero sat there, thinking about what her next coarse of action should be … … … So far, she got as far as barging in there and maybe finding some old, wise looking gypsy woman to help her with her problem. She never was one for thinking too far ahead and for her, far ahead was no further than lunch. She glanced down to her side and at the base of the rock. There in all its shining glory was Calavera, if it didn't have the spikes, she would have slept with it under her pillow.

She was bored. Reaver went to help with the fields again and wouldn't be back until sundown.

Aeden, his name is Aeden! Get it in your head woman! Sparrow hit her fist against her head, and it was not a soft blow either.

She moaned and ruffled her short black hair wildly. If she decided to go ahead with her plan to head into the forest and find some form of answers, she would need a map, for starters, a proper tote bag for food and … Mother of Avo where was she gonna get food? She couldn't just raid the food cabinet again. She practically bounced off the rock, grabbing Calavera's cool hilt and swung the hefty mace until it rested on her shoulder. She had an urge to dip her free hand deep into her pockets, but these pants didn't have pockets, she needed to occupy the burning twitch in her fingers. Sparrow buckled Calavera onto her back and strode leisurely into the village.

She stopped by the clothing vendor again and this time the plump woman gave her what she asked for. Next, she purchased a whole arm load of fruit, she couldn't help that she was addicted to the soft, sugary foods. They always happened to find their way to her and into her stomach. A physician once told her that he was surprised she was even standing with the amount of sugar intake she had, any normal person would have died long ago, but alas she was not normal. She was a Hero so she guessed that that meant some rules really didn't apply to her; heck, she survived a free fall all the way from a tower in Castle Fairfax and right down onto some roofs and into the dirty, snow covered street.

Once she had bought everything she thought she needed, she went back to Reaver's house and looked around for a map. Once she had found one that mapped out most of the forest, she grabbed a piece of paper and hastily jotted down a note to Reaver telling him that she'll be back soon and not to worry. Sparrow put the letter down on the bed pillow, just to make sure it wouldn't maybe grow feet and bounce off, she put it half under the pillow.

The young Hero bent down at the foot of the bed and opened the lid of the drawer. She withdrew her pistol that was thankfully still in its leather holster and buckled it around her upper thigh. She tied her pouch filled with bullets to her waist and moved the money pouch more to the back. When she was satisfied with everything, she adjusted her coat and went out to start a new adventure.

It was a rather warm day and Sparrow was grateful to be in the cool shade of the trees. On occasion she glanced down at the map, trying to think where the best place would be to search for the gypsy camp. The needed water and some sort of natural fortification, and in that area, that meant they would most likely be on top of some sort of hill that was close to a stream or lake.

She made her course for the nearest destination fitting those specifications. The undergrowth was thick and festered with wide leaved ferns that brushed pasted Sparrow's legs. Her new shoes weren't as worn in as she would have like them to be on her first long walk with them but it wasn't completely all that uncomfortable as she thought it would have been.

She walked another hour before she took a rest, slumping down against the trunk of a great oak. She withdrew a flask of water from the tote bag and drank steadily. A small grey tree squirrel scurried down and sat almost directly in front of her, too busy scavenging for food to take notice of her. A green blur enveloped the squirrel, and when Sparrow blinked, it was not there anymore. She wondered for a moment on what happened to the squirrel but then got up and continued on her way.

Sparrow came to the stream that was indicated on her map but she had some difficulty find that hill that was supposed to be thirteen meters south of the stream. The young Hero stuffed the map into her tote bag and walked south. Not even a few paces away from the stream did Sparrow begin to hear voices. One was that an old gypsy woman clad in brown robes, while a younger woman in red and cream coloured robes walked beside her.

"You said that there would be someone on this way Mari, but I have not sensed anything since we set out this morning." The younger one said. Her voice was aching familiar to Sparrow but she could not put a face to the voice as Sparrow stalked after.

"Patience young one, you are young and are not yet sensitive enough to feel when a ripple of Time has come to a wrong place." The older woman commented.

'Ripple of Time'? Thank Avo for Gypsy seers, Sparrow thought. She stood straight and approached the women. The young Hero had not made a single sound when the older woman turned around and faced her.

"Ah, see, she came." Her face was dark and wrinkled and her hair white with age. "All that is needed is patience." She told the other woman, who was now also looking at Sparrow. Her face was triangular, her hair black and curly, but it was her eyes that stunned Sparrow the most. They were a clear crystal blue, just like Theresa's.

"T-Theresa?" Sparrow couldn't believe the woman that raised her was right in front of her. "But… uh - how?" The young Hero was confused to say the least. But this Theresa was different; she didn't have that warm smile on her lips that made her look so beautiful.

That's chapter two finished and klaar. It seems that my average chapter length is around seven thousand words… This was done over 10 pages… Geez that's long. Last year I could hardly get to two thousand words! Hope you guys like the story so far, and I know it's a rather slow start but the pace within the story will pick up. Well, that's when I'm finally touching some ground… Who thought that in all my subjects (English, Afrikaans, Maths Lit, Business Studies, EGD and Visual Art) that the most homework would come from Art? My teachers are pretty cool though. (Mr Leighton owns all the teachers, naturally. He's 25 and a gamer) ^^ Thank-you to everyone that has reviewed so far and dankie (Sorry that's Afrikaans for thank-you. So that tells you I'm not entirely English. Please forgive any mistakes on my part.) to everyone else who read this story, I really appreciate it. I'm half way with chapter 3. So keep your fingers crossed there might be a little action sequence in there... somewhere. I'm not so sure yet. Would you like some action or just some plain exploring?

Bye-bye now! ^^