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They looked at her, they stared and would not look away. They invaded her, those eyes, they witnessed what they should not.

Niera shuddered. She knelt in the soft snow, her arms cradling the stiffening body of her youngest sister. Her throat had been cut, brutally slashed so that her life had poured away, slowly, bit by bit.

Somehow, at some point in time she didn't know whether it was hours or years later, there were shapes around her, vague forms that moved and talked. She did not really become aware of them until they disturbed her, trying to take the body from her.

She fought then, fierce and savage. Something happened and she was lost into the dark.

She was not truly lucid until at least a week after, she remembered little of what passed during that time. She remembered white, alot of white, voices hard and insistent.

Her first sane moment was when she was finally visited upon by her family, not her true family of course but the ties that blood always enforced, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, that sort of thing.

Sitting there, propped up against the backboard of her bed Niera watched with quiet certainty. She knew why they were here, she knew that they knew she knew. Seeing their hesitant faces Niera closed her eyes briefly. She had never had much contact with other relations, they hadn't been important but right now she remembered the names of the two that stood before her.

Derek and Livia Richard.

They were distant family on her Father's side, the Father that had left them several years back. The Richards were the most prominent of the related family's. The chiefs of the clan. And Niera guessed that they would be making a decision about her.

As much as she hated it there was no-one to turn to on her Mother's side. Mum had been adopted and had no idea who her true parents were. She was far to young legally to care for herself, even though she herself debated the point inwardly. And she would have died rather than be sent to some children's home.

"Hello Niera, darling." Came her Aunt's quavery voice that she so hated. Something in the tone though made her look closer at their faces. They were bleach white she realised, and then with shock it came over her the reason. They were afraid! And what's more, of her. She could have laughed at the moment if everything had not felt so wrong, so out of place. Instead she returned their stares, her eyes peering blankly at them. She made no attempt to answer Livia. Her Uncle then tried.

"We've come to tell you, you'll be coming in with us until we've decided what to do with you."

Niera let out one bitter smile. Those last words were enough and with great pleasure she let forth something, some rage inside her. She let it tickle their minds, teasing, taunting. She watched them flinch, aware that something was happening. Then, as suddenly as it had started, she let it stop. There would be time later, much time.

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"They're burning the ships!" The hoarse cry came through a foggy haze as Niera jerked clumsily to her feet.

The ships? Asked a part of her mind, the part that was still back in the past, remembering with vivid intensity what had to have been the worst year in her life.

"The ships, the ships!" The cry had been taken up by others and faraway noises of metal clashing and choked off screams rent the air. The battle was nearing, the Trojans must be pushing the army back. Burning the ships though? Ships were the only way back for the Greeks, losing them would be akin to losing half the army.

Exiting her enclosure she noticed her guard was gone, apparently to help with the orange tongues of flame that licked eagerly at several ships far down the shore-line. With a gasp Niera spotted a group of dark-clad figures, not warriors, they were huddled in a knot and torches were in their hands.

This was how the ships were being burned. Using the distraction of the battle the Trojans were sending down men. Niera couldn't help but smile slightly, it was a good plan. Well thought out. But still, it would see her no good if the Greeks were put in foul tempers. She had scars to prove that. With an angry shake of her head she ran, hating the sand for how it slowed her. Reaching the nearest ship, the one boarded, she grasped hold of a hanging rope, the ladder was gone, and pulling herself upwards swung herself over the side.

Immediately she realised that had been a mistake. Facing her were three men and if their faces weren't hostile Niera wouldn't have known what to call them. As the first dodged for her she leapt sideways, unwittingly crashing into stacked barrels that fell painfully onto her.

Cursing Niera realised she was losing strength fast, she'd overestimated herself in this case. Healing from burns was a long and slow process and now her skin burned and throbbed with life of it's own. Angry now, whereas before she'd merely been performing a duty, she snarled deep in her throat. One of the men, narrowly missing a rolling barrel jumped to the back of her, penning her in. With an almost smug smile Niera reached for her power... and drew back with shock. It wasn't there. The empty space it left felt overwhelming. Niera flung back her head calling upwards, "Curse you Athena!" Perhaps it was her fury working but it seemed to her that she heard a voice, a light one, laughing softly.

With a yell Niera swung in a reverse power-kick to her nearest attacker. Her heel landed squarely in his stomach sending him flying backwards to bash his head on the wood of the ship. The remaining two were slower now, more wary. Niera didn't like that. It was much easier to take on someone that rushed in blindly, quite another with one who thought. As a shadow loomed up behind her, Niera vainly trying to turn, it struck her that they're had been more than three that had boarded the ship. At the same time she was lost to that ever increasingly familiar blackness. Really, this was getting old. She thought vaguely as she fell.