Wow, I'm so glad people like this! Yay! Hehe... to my first four reviewers, thank you, thank you... sorry, I'm addicted to reviews. =D All your questions probably will be answered within the course of the story, so don't worry about it... just keep reading!

Shamira: I know what you mean–I'm a teenager myself, though an old one, so I understand these things perfectly. Keeping your comments in mind, I'm trying to write Kristina as though I were in her shoes, kind of, so it has that "teenager-y" touch to it. Thanks for your awesome review!

cleopatra: The other Quartermaines may turn up, they may not... we'll see. Emily is mentioned in this chapter, so you'll see what happened to her.

JasonandSarkLover125: Thanks for your review... I'm trying to get inspiration for a Journey fic, I have been for quite a while, but somehow it's not coming...

Amethyst Beloved: Wow your review was good too! Hehe... yeah, Kristina all grown up is a bit weird, but just imagine the possibilities! Glad y'all like this fic! =D

Remember… these people are not mine. Except Loren... and some other weird unfamiliar people that you may run across. =D

Onto the next installment...

*

Golden Child

Chapter One

"Okay," I said to myself, slowly, sitting in the room that I had come to know while I believed I was a Quartermaine. Even then, I had trouble with my [many] last names... I didn't know it was about to get much worse. I was determined to find this woman–my biological mother, Alexis–and get more answers from her. But where could I find her?

A sudden thought entered my mind. "Nikolas," I whispered, realizing whom I could turn to in order to find my answers.

The journey to Spoon Island is never fun. The Cassadines, another family in Port Charles, inhabit that island. They had their glory days way back when, but somehow, right around the time I was two, their financial backing collapsed and they were reduced to almost nothing. Stefan, the patriarch at the time, was so furious, he hurled himself off the cliffs on these islands, and was never seen again. The only surviving Cassadine, Nikolas, took it upon himself to rebuild not only the power and prestige of the Cassadine name, but also tried to make it more amiable to the rest of Port Charles. To this end, he married my cousin, Emily–she had breast cancer at the time and was able to beat it, but sadly, four years after she went into remission, the cancer struck again and made her suffer for another four, long years, until finally, and coincidentally, on the same day as my great-grandmother Lila, Emily passed on. Our family was quite devastated–Emily was another wonderful woman, and we couldn't fathom losing two beautiful people on the same day. Because of our loss, Nikolas became closer to our family as well–closer than he had been before. It was explained to me that on the day of their marriage, Nikolas and Emily were not in love, but they had fallen in love magically after they were married. Nikolas was devastated that his wife had died, and the only thing he had left was their daughter. But she, too, met the same fate as her mother–she was found lying at the bottom of the bluffs on Spoon Island, along with the mother of Nikolas's nephew, Summer. He has thrust all his energies into finding who did this to the twosome, but still has not found anything. The long-standing feud the Cassadines hold with another family, the Spencers, which had seemed to have been quelled, has now returned, fiercer than ever–Lucky Spencer, the father of Summer's son, believes the Cassadines had something to do with Summer's death and despises them, even though Nikolas is his half-brother.

Anyway, I relay all this information because of the fact that I know Nikolas is related to this Alexis character–I've heard him mention her in passing several times. He stays close to the Quartermaine family even now, and so we are on good terms with him. I pondered all of this on the unpleasant journey across the lake, pondered why my "parents" had never told me my true parentage... and then I came across someone wandering around on the island. It was night, and the misty fog was creeping all around us, so I had my guard up. I watched him, closely, but inconspicuously, as he was sneaking around near the edge of one of the cliffs. "What is he doing? Doesn't he know he's surely going to get himself killed?" I whispered to myself. I watched in suspense as he lurked around, gathering things and putting them into a small plastic baggie. Hmm. A detective in the making, I see. I rolled my eyes–too many people had fallen off this cliff, I knew, for him to find exactly what he was looking for. But I did agree with his logic–if he was doing this on his own, without the help of the police (and he looked to be about my age, too), then he knew how corrupted our law enforcement really was. I admired people who saw through that–it used to be blaringly obvious, but now it's so hush-hush people stopped trying to stop it.

Okay, so my thoughts had wandered yet again–I'm known to do that a lot. I was trying to concentrate on the guy when suddenly I heard a rustling of leaves and gravel, and I knew what was gonna happen. Instinctively I jumped out and found nothing but a set of fingertips hanging on wildly for dear life. "Help," the voice belonging to the guy hanging yelled hoarsely. "Help me! Is there anyone there? Hell–no one's there, who are you kidding?"

I smiled in spite of the situation–he talked to himself, which amused me because I talked to myself as well. Before I could let my mind wander, I returned to the gravity of the situation. "No, I'm here, and I'll help you. Just give me your hand."

Making sure I was on secure ground, I extended my arm over the edge and braced myself to pull the weight up. The guy's hand gripped mine tightly and I pulled, with much effort to keep myself from not falling, and finally, with help from him pulling as well, he made it up onto the rock. He got up and I saw that he was a few inches taller than me, with spiky hair and stunningly clear, crystal sapphire blue eyes. I could see that even in the moonlight. He dusted his hands off and then looked at me. "Oh... thank you so much, you saved my life."

I shrugged. "Did what I had to do, didn't I?"

"Still, though..." He trailed off. "I'm still thankful. By the way, my name's Loren. Loren Spencer. I'm very, very pleased to meet you." He smiled and I smiled back at his infectious smile. Wait. Lauren?

"What?" I said, trying hard not to laugh. "You... you have a girl's name?"

The guy rolled his eyes and laughed. "Don't worry, I get that all the time. It's L-O-R-E-N, you know, like Sophia Loren?"

"Ah." I nodded in understanding. "My name's Kristina." I extended my hand once again, this time to shake his hand. As he shook my hand, he raised an eyebrow. "Kristina... what?"

"Well... My full name's Kristina Rosemary Hunter Quartermaine Ashton... Davis... Cassadine..." I trailed off as Loren continued to raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, it's a long story. I prefer just Kristina."

"Yeah, I would too." Loren put a hand behind his head to rub his neck–I guessed it was a bit sore from all the straining. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" His attitude suddenly became a bit more chilly.

"I'm up to see Nikolas to ask him where my biological mother lives–that's where I get the Davis-Cassadine part of my name. Um, yeah... I just found out that the mother I loved and adored isn't really my blood relative... and... yeah, I'm sorry, I must be boring you with all this stuff..." I rambled on, then realizing I was telling my history to a complete stranger, one that didn't especially seem to like me that much anyway. To change the subject, I asked, "So, what are you doing here?"

Loren's eyes suddenly went steely. "Don't worry about it."

I shrugged–I wasn't one to butt into other people's business. "Okay. Well... it was nice meeting you... I'm going to go up to Wyndemere now."

Loren nodded. "Well... it was nice meeting you, Kristina. And thank you... yeah, thanks."

"You're welcome," I said sincerely as I made my way up to the manor, wondering what was up with that guy.

"Nikolas?"

I gingerly walked into the Cassadine mansion, always intimidated by it, even now. "Nikolas, are you here?"

The chair that was directly in front of me turned to reveal who I was looking for. He looked weary, life's toll evident in his features, but nevertheless, his eyes lit up at seeing me. "Hello, Kristina."

"Hi," I greeted him, walking up to his desk. "I promise I won't bother you for very long... I just need you to tell me where Alexis lives."

"Alexis, as in Alexis Davis?" He looked at me incredulously.

"I think so... do you know, Nikolas?"

"Know what?" He tried to keep his voice even, but I could tell he was failing.

"You do, don't you? You know that Alexis is my biological mother, don't you?"

Nikolas hung his head in defeat. "Yes, I do."

"Then tell me where she is."

Nikolas smiled; I was becoming quite irritated at his toying around with me. "Nikolas, don't play games with me."

"Oh, I'm not, I promise," he said, appearing taken aback just a bit. "It's just... god, Kristina, you're just like her."

"Oh."

"And Alexis is here. She's staying here as my guest until she can get herself established again."

"What you do mean, 'established again?'"

He started playing absentmindedly with a pen on his desk. "Alexis has been out of town since you were four, Kristina. I won't tell you the circumstances, however–she can tell you that herself."

"Can I–" I swallowed involuntarily. "Can I see her?"

"Absolutely." Nikolas smiled warmly at me. "Rose will show you in." He gestured to the maid standing in the doorway to the chambers, and I followed her, not knowing to expect. After two minutes of just roaming–Wyndemere was so incredibly large, especially for the number of people living in it–Rose showed me to a door on the second floor, and I smiled. "Thank you, Rose." I knew how hard servants worked, and I had always made it a point, even when I was younger, to be nice to them, to show them how appreciative I was. She left me at the door politely and I stood there for a minute, so desperately wanting answers to my burning questions, but too apprehensive to get them. What would happen when I found out the truth? But you need to know, a voice said inside me. I nodded, taking advantage of the rush of courage that had overcome me, and I knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice called, and I recognized it as the one that had been screaming in my house earlier. I opened the door slowly, trying to stall, but then Alexis caught sight of me. "Kris–Kristina?"

I nodded. "I need your help."

Alexis took off the glasses she was wearing to read a book and peered up at me. "Anything, Kristina, I'll help you with whatever you need."

She seemed a bit desperate to me, but I continued on. "I need to know about my parentage, and I need to know your side of the story."

Exhaling, Alexis nodded, though there was a spark of excitement and hope in her eyes. "Very well. Sit down," she gestured, pointing to a cushy armchair that was a few feet away from the bed, "and I'll tell you everything."

I did as she said, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the truth I both craved and dreaded at the same time.