I was born on a crisp spring morning. The fog of the highlands, and the cool mountain breeze welcomed my very first cries. My mother looked down upon me, she smiled, as a tear trickled down her face. When my father entered the chamber, he walked over to my mother's side, and took me in his strong, and safe arms. "My love, she is here, finally the daughter we have longed for. I am so very happy." was what my father said that very first hour of my life. In reply my mother simply set her head upon her pillow, and drifted off to sleep. There was a contented smile upon her face. Two days later, she passed away. Leaving my father to take care of my two brothers, and of course myself. I was named Rowena after her, though everyone called me Edana, which meant little fire in ancient Gaelic. I received the nickname from my childhood nurse, whom I gave a lot of trouble the first day she took care of me. When my father asked her about my behavior, she said with a slight chuckle, and fake exasperation in her voice "She is an Edana, there will be trouble from her." and for the first time since my mother died, my father had laughed. Thus, they called me Edana, at first because it hurt too much to call me Rowena, but in time it became a habit and eventually Edana had practically become my name. My childhood was a very happy one... I spent much of my time playing by myself, because my two brothers Cyan and Casey were much older than me, and although they loved me unconditionally, spending their free time with a four year old was not really their idea of leisure. I would often go to the forest, which sprung up suddenly behind my father's large estate. Following a secret path, far into the heart of the woods, I would hunt for the creatures from my nursery fairy tales. Sometimes, I would catch glimpses of a wing, or a tip of a golden horn, or once I was sure that I saw a beautiful lady turn into a tree. The forest was my world, an entrance to a magical realm. After an hour of "faery hunting" I would reach a small clearing, full of wild flowers, tall grasses, and enormous, crystal encrusted boulders. To the right of the clearing there was a waterfall. The clear liquid would splash, and sing playfully, while rainbows formed around it. When I reached this place, I would sit down on one of the rocks, let my hair out of its child's bonnet, and speak to my mother. She didn't answer back of course, but when I would begin to tell her a tale, I wouldn't look up to the sky, or close my eyes. No, I would speak to the waterfall, possibly thinking that my mother was on the other side, I can no longer recall.Nevertheless, if I asked a question, or waited for a reply, I would feel it inside of myself, as if she were speaking to my heart.