Alma looked out into the ocean. The children had been fascinated by the modern architecture and the technology, but she had wanted something familiar. The soothing breeze blew through her hair, the scent of salt calmed her, and the sun illuminated the water; giving it a glistening appearance that seemed to captivate her completely. She caught a glance of the setting sun's reflection on the water, and with it, a new sense of hope surged through her. Hope for the future, hope that her children and her would be able to cope with the new changes, and adapt.

Her children

She looked over to her right, where a smiling Claire picket at a seashell; Alma's heart swelling at how precious that looked. Bronwyn skipped the seashells gracefully with an orange pail swinging in her hand, stopping every few seconds to collect seaweed. Millard ran around chasing Hugh with a… was that a seastar in his hand?

"Millard,"

She frowned deeply.

"Please put that back in the water."

Millard looked over to the headmistress, almost as if realizing for the first time that she was there. He stayed there for a few seconds; his clothes and hat frozen in time, and Alma was certain that if she could see his face, there'd be surprise written all over it.

"Sorry Miss Peregrine"

He walked over to the water and carefully placed the creature back. The headmistress smiled slightly. The sun was now almost completely gone, its last traces of light caressing the ocean's soft waves. She turned her attention back to her beloved children. The older ones were finding different ways of amusing themselves, and as it seemed, succeeding.

They'd lived for nearly 80 years in a place with the ocean at their disposal, but the beach here was quite different than back home. Here, it was always sunny despite the cool breeze that signified the beginning of Autumn. Perhaps too sunny. It was usually flooding with people, which she disliked, but this afternoon seemed particularly desolate. It gave her a sense of peace.

She thought back to the events that had transcurred in the past few months and a shiver ran through her.

After boarding the Augusta, the children and her had found a rather small house to rent with the help of Jacob and his parents who were still growing accustomed to the fact that they all existed.

Her mind wandered to the ordeal with Barron and his cruel experiment. She was relieved that her relationship with the children hadn't changed much since the event.

She was, in a way surprised they still respected her the way they always did. She had worked so hard to create a sense of authority around herself while disciplining them as best she could, almost detaching herself emotionally from them, or at least, she did so in the children's eyes. In truth, she loved them beyond words cold ever describe. But she never showed it, not fully. Only providing the essential needs and no more.

She thought that this would help her have authority over a housefull of peculiar children, and it did, but it also had its downsides.

Part of her had expected her children to lose their respect for her, to no longer view her as the strong authority figure she had always tried so hard to be. After all, her children had saved her, when it was supposed to be the other way around. She had needed their help, and that troubled Alma deeply. She was an Ymbryne; it was her duty to protect them, and yet she'd failed them.

Again

A voice in her head whispered.

She silenced it.

Memories of her victor flashed through Alma's head.

The wet hissing sound of tongues, her boy being lifted violently off the ground, the adrenaline rushing through her veins as she grabbed a hold of her crossbow.

The sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw a limp body lying on the ground, then her heart shattering into a million pieces as she stared into the dark abyss of two empty sockets.

Bronwyn's scream piercing through her head. Hot tears stinging her eyes as she held her dying child on her lap, trying to bring him back.

Trying to get a response from him, her brain still not fully processing what had happened.

Trying, trying and failing. She felt the small shivering body of her little girl clinging to her, attempting to see her brother, but being held back by Alma's arms.

It was too much.

The pain shed buried so deep inside her, coming back all at once, attacking her with full force.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to snap out of her memory when tears threatened to fall.

This was not the time.

The tug of little hands on her skirt shook her from her thoughts. She looked down at two identical masks staring up at her. She bent down to embrace her children. It was unlike her to shoe this much emotion, but her soul had been so very fragile lately; she couldn't help it.

It was getting late, she realized. They should head back.

She smiled slightly at her children before turning to inform the others of their departure, but the sight of a small fissure in the distance stopped her. Her falcon eyes, sharp as they may be, still struggled slightly to see the girl kneeling in the water. Was she alone? Where were her parents?

The girl looked to be no older than 13 or 14, or so she assumed. The customs of this new century still left Alma baffled. Perhaps, here it was perfectly normal for a young girl to be left unsupervised in such a vast place, but she would never leave one of her children completely out of her sight with no knowledge of their whereabouts.

It was possible the girl had her parents' permission to be here, but it troubled Alma regardless; seeing a child entirely alone. She tried to suppress the worry that had risen in her and gathered her children to leave.

As Enoch, her oldest ward, led the group away from the beach, she allowed her gaze to wander back to the little girl once more, who was now sitting near the shore. She stared for a few moments. Why was this girl taking up so much space in her mind? With a slight shake of her head, she turned to follow her children who were now a good thirty feet away from her, and headed towards the exit with them...