A/N: Thank-you for point, Saraneth90, I appreciate it. I wish you'd think about what you're saying though, because clearly I have read Sabriel and Lirael and Abhorsen, otherwise there would be little point in writing this. I think you might be mistaken though. I know Lirael's mother's name of course: Arielle, and I know that we have been told the name of Lirael and Sabriel's father, but, actually, I think you'll find that we are still clueless as to what Sabriel's mother is called, and therefore, I can call her Fanar Merinos! Thank you for your lovely review too, Spellcastre, as it was much appreciated.

Rightyho, on with actual writing!

Fanar Merinos was unusual, it was true. A purebred Ancelstierran, born single daughter of parents anonymous to her still. She had lived until the age of five at a nunnery, where her parents had left her I the care of wizened Old charter-witch named Marlo.

When Marlo died, Fanar had been sent to a state boarding school in South Ancelstierre, a place in which she had dwelled until her early teens. When the place upgraded to a private school, Fanar had been adopted by another boarding school, Wyverly College for "young ladies of quality."

The college was, admittedly, private boarding, like the school she had been sent out of, but due to her independence and her above-average intellect, Fanar, who had been taken in by the Magistrix of the time, Agatha Grottlewile, received a scholarship. She was a hard worker, a good student in most areas of the school's syllabus. It was here that she came to hear a great deal of The Old Kingdom, a place that lay beyond The Wall, which was not as far from Wyverly College as Fanar had first suspected. Her thoughts often drifted to what lay beyond her cosy school home, and what secrets and mysteries unknown to her still lay ahead, waiting for her to unlock them.

On her seventeenth birthday, Fanar had been woken by a disturbing dream.

She was cold, colder than she'd ever been in her life. Chill blains marked her fingers and toes and she drew herself into a ball, shivering, her breath making no mark in the dense, misty air around her. As she sat there, eyes smarting as a fierce wind blew into them, a shape appeared somewhere near. She squinted through the mist, trying to distinguish the silhouette, shivering violently. She called, and, through the mist a voices screamed, 'Everyone get down!'

'A murderer!'

Fanar called again, 'Help, please, help me.'

The figure took another step towards him, and a hand, like shadow but almost matter, solid, extended to her.

'Come with me, Fanar Merinos.' Someone whispered. 'Come with me.'

Far off, another voice bit into her, 'No! No! Please, girl, come this way, this way.'

Fanar turned, her numb brain confused. Which to turn to?

'This way Fanar Merinos, this way.'

'No! Please, take my hand, come on, I'll take care of you!'

'Leave her, Abhorsen.... No! NO!'

A baby's shriek split the air, high and great, and Fanar's gaze focused on a face above her, huffing, 'Come on, girlie, push, love, come on, push.'

Fanar wailed, 'Abhorsen!' though she had not a clue why. Her eyes were bleary, the sound of the baby haunted her body and she shrieked. The baby grew louder and someone, something above her moved and brought it to her face.

'It's a girl,' someone whispered, and then Fanar woke, cold sweat trickling nastily down her spine, making her shiver and the desire to retch creep over her like hungry mice.

That had been six months ago. The dream had recurred every month since then, and in each dream, the vision of the baby, dead-skinned and wailing filled her head, so much so that weeks after she would hear wailing.

One week ago, Fanar had had the privilege of meeting someone from the Old Kingdom. Her name was Filris, though nothing else was said about her, and she had come to the Headmistress, asking especially to talk to a young girl named Fanar Merinos.

Fanar was intrigued by the strange summons, and was entranced further still by the nature of the woman's visit. She had shut herself and Fanar in the Headmistress' office, bidding that the two of them be left alone. Talking quickly the woman had produced a train ticket, and said that, if she did not get off at Uliscé station, she would regret it for the rest of life. Then she simply disappeared. Fanar could not believe it. That was all she had said, nothing else of importance. Nothing. Briefly, she had touched her on the shoulder, advised her to cut her hair, because it would get in her way, and simply vanished.

Fanar was left, dumb, feeling unsure and wronged by herself, entirely lost.

And then she did it. She had cut her hair, from waist to chin, she had prepared, and then she had left. The tag around her neck granted her entry to any city in Ancelstierre, but she was at Uliscé. And regretting it. A murderer. That, she had not had in mind, but here she was, not dressed for the occasion in any sense. She was scared at how easily Filris had made her come here. She had only to tell her that if she didn't regret would be in her stomach and Fanar had gone.

Fanar didn't like it, being independent and rational, dismissing anything that she found to be unreal or unlikely. That was Fanar Merinos, not someone who had been persuaded to go somewhere because she would regret it if she didn't.

But here she was, at nothing Filris had done could change that, and rubbing her temples wearily, she hauled the policeman behind the counter of the newsagent. Perhaps he wouldn't get hurt. Perhaps he would. Either way, Fanar desperately wished he hadn't been so stubborn and simply complied to her wishes as she had asked him.

Sighing, Fanar tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear and turned her attention to the floor above her, she could hear the sound of bullets being fired and yells and shouting of policemen. Above all, she could hear a sweet tingling...something about it made her wish to be asleep, her eyelids fluttered and she shook herself. No. Definitely not a good idea.

Drawing her knife from it's scabbard tucked inside her inner lapel, she started towards the stairs and climbed them quietly, watching the balcony above. She emerged in a ticket office, where only a small man by the counter cowered. He squeaked as she entered, and ducked under the desk, but Fanar paid him no attention. Someone.... She could feel it, someone was waiting for her, the feeling of it tingled gently in her fingers, there was something grey about the man's presence, and she knew that she would instantly recognise him when she saw him. She only hoped he wasn't the man the police were shooting so desperately at. She round a corner, took a second flight of stairs and found herself on a higher floor, a balcony, which was occupied by a café. Tables and chairs were upturned, and at the railings, several policemen were firing rapidly at someone far below, they shouted, wiping sweat from their foreheads, and Fanar heard the constant crackle of two-way radio.

She shivered, and wondered if she should stop their shooting by performing her expertly practiced sleep-hold, in which her fingers found main pressure points: joints in neck and head. It would take skill to sneak up on men this high on adrenaline, so she refrained, backing quietly down the stairs. On the second balcony she found herself on, only one policeman stood, and she was more confident about taking on one of them alone, quietly, she snuck up behind him and whispered in his ear, 'May I have your gun, Sir?'

He jumped, firing randomly, and swiftly, she pounced on him, knocking him unconscious with the butt of his own weapon. He buckled, and, retrieving the gun, she tucked it into her coat pocket.

She stopped, peering over the balcony, and suddenly realised that all firing had stopped. Men were yelling, but there calls were drunken, drowsy even.

A hand slithered around her throat, and, quite suddenly she froze, her heart thudding louder than ever she would have thought possible.

A tiny, tinkling sound soothed her nerves, and, like the rest of the Uliscé police force, Fanar's body was surrendered to the sound of a bell she would soon know as "Ranna"....

A/N: Coolio. Ok, I'm actually excited right about now. Well, what did you think?