Chapter 1: Dreams:
Three thirty a.m. San Francisco, California.
A young woman about twenty years old slept in her bed. She was moaning and murmuring in her sleep. The dream inside her head was driving her insane.
The young woman tied up in a tent during the Trojan War trying to escape. She tries to use her abilities to help, but they wouldn't work. A man with blond hair to his shoulders walked in with a soldier behind him. He was wearing a battle suit like the ancient Greeks wore. He glanced towards her and she saw his eyes. They were blue and sparkling with life and hate.
"Who is she?" asked the man.
"A woman we found hiding behind the rocks. We thought she might amuse you a little," replied the soldier. The man nodded. She could tell they were from the Mycenaeans. The man with blond hair stared at her for a minute longer then turned to the soldier.
"You may go," the soldier bowed and left. He came towards the woman and lowered himself to her height.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"None of your concern," said the girl her voice full of venom. "I saw the priests dead. You killed them."
"I killed thousands of men, but never a priest," he answered her.
"Then your men did. You're just a cold hearted killer," she spat not looking at him. He took a fist full of her blond hair and forced her to look at him. She did and was smothered in his blue eyes.
"I asked what is your name?" he told her.
"Pearl," she answered.
Pearl jumped out of her bed with a start. Her head was sweating and she was panting heavily. This was the ninth time in one week she had dreamed of the same man. Whether she was napping or sleeping, it was the same dream. She knew he was from the Trojan War, but nothing more. It was a disturbing dream. Were the Elders trying to send her something? Was her premonition power expanding? A soft knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts.
"Pearl," said her grandmother's worried voice. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," answered Pearl. Her grandmother came in. She sat on the edge of Pearl's bed and held her hand.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"I've been having these dreams lately," she said, but remembered her grandmother was not a witch. "It's nothing."
Pearl was a witch and not just any witch. She was a Halliwell. There was a prophecy that centered on her. The Protector, which she was, would be a powerful magical being, slightly less powerful than the Charmed Ones, but still powerful. The Protector would possess the powers of: Telekinesis, Molecular Immobilization and Premonition. Pearl was the Protector.
Since her mother was a witch and her father wasn't, she couldn't really expect her father's side of the family to understand witchcraft. Her mother and father had died when she was really young, so her grandmother from her father's side took her in. Even though she wasn't a witch, she helped her granddaughter in any way possible.
"Honey," said her grandmother, Blanche. "I may not be supernatural, but I do want to know what is happening."
"It's these dreams I've been having lately," she said. "It's been nine days and in those nine days, I've had the same dream. I was a prisoner during the Trojan War. Some soldier walks in and we have a little chat then when I tell him my name I wake up. And my powers don't work in my dream." Her grandmother pondered it for a second before coming up with an idea.
"What are you studying for your history course in college?" asked Blanche.
"Ancient Greece," she said.
"Any novels?" asked Blanche again.
"Achilles," said Pearl confused. "The story of Achilles."
"Can you show me the book?" asked Blanche.
"Sure Grandma," said Pearl. She turned on her night lamp and took the book off of her bed side table. It was a big novel about Achilles, the greatest Greek warrior. Blanche took the book and started reading its cover and flipping through it. She closed the book and looked back at Pearl.
"I think you should check this out with your cousins," she finally said. "Maybe Phoebe is getting the same dreams."
"I doubt it," replied Pearl lying back down. Blanche patted her leg and put the book back on her bedside table.
"I would feel better if you do," she said again. "Maybe you can check it out in the Book of Lights." Pearl laughed.
"It's the Book of Shadows, Grandma," she corrected.
"Sorry," said Blanche laughing lightly. "Get some sleep honey." Pearl nodded and put her head on the pillow. She would figure out what the dreams meant tomorrow. But just before she went to sleep she asked.
"Who are you?"
She then fell into a dreamless sleep.
About 3,500 years in the past. Troy, the Trojan War.
A soldier walked through a bustling crowd of Greek soldiers who were setting up camp on the beach in the outskirts of the city of Troy. He had blond hair which reached down to his soldiers and blue eyes. A soldier walked up to him.
"My lord," said the soldier. "I feel honored to fight beside you."
"You fought well today," said the man.
"Thank you," said the soldier then he followed the man. He watched the sailors bustling and getting ready for the war which was yet to come. He entered his tent and saw a young woman tied up in his tent. She had bright green eyes and golden blond hair that fell to her shoulders. She turned towards him and he saw the full sight of her eyes. He had almost fainted from the force and beauty of her eyes. Her beauty stunned him. She was even more beautiful than Helen of Sparta. Her hands were tied behind her back and he suddenly felt a spark of hate for the soldiers who tied her.
"Who is she?" asked the man.
"A woman we found hiding behind the rocks. We thought she might amuse you a little," replied the soldier. The man nodded. The man with blond hair stared at her for a minute longer then turned to the soldier.
"You may go," the soldier bowed and left. He came towards the woman and lowered himself to her height.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"None of your concern," said the girl her voice full of venom. "I saw the priests dead. You killed them."
"I killed thousands of men, but never a priest," he answered her.
"Then your men did. You're just a cold hearted killer," she spat not looking at him. He took a fist full of her blond hair and forced her to look at him. She did and he was smothered in her green eyes. He then hated himself for hurting her.
"I asked what is your name?" he told her.
"Pearl," she answered.
The man, Achilles, woke up sweating. He was still in Phtia. He walked out side of his tent or home and looked up at the night sky. It was dark and all of the Mycenaeans were asleep. He kept walking and asking himself.
Who is she? Why am I dreaming of her? He looked up at the stars and asked himself.
"Who are you?"
Little did he know that that about 3,500 years in the future the same girl from his dreams was asking the same question.