A/N: Hey everyone, welcome to the new and improved Fourth Bearer of the Triforce! Old readers, glad to have you back! New readers, I hope you like it!
Small revisions as of July 16th, 2021. If you're a re-reader, I'm so, so sorry you've been waiting so long.
"She won't be safe, Lilith!"
"What other choice do we have, Gerome? She's not safe here, either! I will not see her butchered! Not like-"
Please, not now, Claire thought hopelessly as she tried to focus on the teacher. Not on going crazy and hearing voices - they were benign, nothing that directly communicated with her, but damn if it wasn't distracting.
Lilith and Gerome argued like a married couple. If Dr. Braxton was right, and they were people she remembered, maybe they were? They were painfully familiar to Claire, but she couldn't place it. Trying to put faces to the names or voices only ended up giving her a headache. She forced herself to reorient, jotting down notes before Mr. Nelson could change slides on the board. For another half hour or so, it worked. Sure, Claire wasn't processing any of the words she was writing down, but she sure was taking notes like a good, normal, non-hallucinating girl who was definitely paying attention to math class.
...And then they came back for more.
"Gerome, what's happened?"
"He's here, they've come for Rowan! His army marches for Castle Town as we speak. We're out of time, Lilith."
"I... I understand. I need to prepare her for the... journey. The supplies are in my study, back home. We need to move now if we are to outmaneuver them."
"Are you sure, Lilith? How do you know he won't be defeated? What if this is not the only way?"
"His people remain, even if he is defeated. And if he is, they will hunt her in his name. We cannot stop them, and we cannot protect her on our own. This is her only future, my love. Rowan cannot stay."
What Claire wanted to know was 'who the hell are they talking about?' What the hell kind of world were they in, what exactly were they facing that made the guy so dangerous, this mysterious 'him' they were talking about? What about him had them clashing like this?
"Claire, you look like you're absolutely dying to answer the question on the board," Mr. Nelson drawled, garnering titters from around the room as Claire flushed pink. Crap. Don't mind me, just the neighbourhood crazy girl listening to the voices in her head instead of the lesson... She knew they talked about her, that she and Julie (and their parents, for that matter) were an oddity in a backwater yeehaw town like Port Anderton.
At that moment, the school speakers crackled to life.
'Claire McKinley, please come down to the principal's office. That's Claire McKinley to the principal's office,' the PA droned to the tune of quiet 'oooh's from Claire's classmates. The teen let her forehead thunk onto the too-small surface for just a moment. She rolled her eyes as she got up from her desk, filtering out whatever half-hearted scolding Mr. Nelson was giving the students.
"What, are we in fifth grade?" Claire scoffed, glowering at a few of them as she passed. As soon as she was in the hall she pulled her phone out. Her shoes clack-clacked quietly in the drab, empty hallway, but for Claire it may as well have been gunshots ringing in her ears, announcing her presence as she walked.
[Text: Claire-Bear] What did you do this time? Why am I being called down to The Ross' office? Why is it always you?
[Text: Juliebean] Character witness I think. Got in a fight with Stefan. All BS as usual, you know the drill
[Text: Claire-Bear] Ugh, him. I get it, but
[Text: Claire-Bear] You promised Markus you'd stop fighting
[Text: Juliebean] Am I just supposed to ignore it when people start saying things about us? About THEM?
Claire sighed, pushing her hair back from her face in exasperation. Detention at best, suspension most likely. Dinner would be awkward and quiet while Julie fumed and their parents would wait for her to speak first. But I can't just let this go, either. She's not wrong... She picked up the pace, small heels clicking louder with every step down the hall.
'People are always going to talk in a small town like this,' she remembered Markus telling her. 'I don't care what they say. I care about you and Julie and your happiness, and I know Daniel feels the same.'
Claire had just managed to internalize that better than Julie, she supposed, but... that didn't mean she could just leave her hanging out to dry. Fidgeting with the collar of her blouse, Claire steeled herself and entered the office.
"Miss McKinley, please, take a seat. Your... father, should be joining us shortly."
The tire swing in the front yard hung at an odd angle. Claire noticed it every day, but she could never bring herself to fix it. It had been dragged askew the last time she'd gone up to mess with it and, well, fallen out of the tree. It bothered her, but not enough to climb up there to actually do anything about it. Maybe today? No, not in skirts.
You're stalling. Time to go inside and face the music, whichever way it leans.
Trodding up the stairs to the front porch, Claire heaved the door open with a sigh, kicking off her pumps into the front closet readily; already shedding a little of the weight of the day as soon as she was in her familiar space.
"Make way for our own Elle Woods over here," Markus teased gently when Claire came into view. He'd gotten to the office just in time to hear her arguing Principal Ross into submission. "You really did a number on that old-timer."
'Anderton Harbour Secondary has supposedly always prided itself on its anti-bullying policy, since it was implemented. By punishing Julie more harshly than Stefan for the fight, you would just be showing that that policy means nothing on an individual level, especially since he was the instigator. Or should I make you aware of the fact that he's still on the rugby team after I —and several other students— reported that he was shouting racial slurs in the gym during lunch break last week, and evidently suffered no consequences for doing it?'
'Enough! You've more than made your point, Miss McKinley. You may see yourself out.'
"Everybody underestimates the ones who look cute and unthreatening. What's more unthreatening than a five foot nothing girl in pastels and pumps?" Claire agreed sagely, shrugging out of her coat and barely snagging it on her coathook. "I was polite enough about it that I couldn't get in trouble for arguing the principal into a corner, but I don't think she likes me very much for it. Not that she did to begin with," Claire was nonchalant - it didn't matter to her, not really. All the same, she leaned tiredly against the doorjamb. Facing the living room and all its zany, mismatched furniture, she tried to center herself in the happy memories of the room instead of her crap day at school.
"You could leave the arguing part to dad and I," Markus pressed, a significance to his tone that said 'we're here, you don't have to do this alone'.
What a concept.
"I know. I've been trying," Claire promised quietly, pushing down the caustic, snarky words that wanted to bubble up in response. She crossed the living room in a heartbeat when Markus opened his free arm to her, nestling into his side on the plush couch without hesitating. She'd never managed to hide her exhaustion from him - he'd learned early-on what Claire looked like when it had been a long day and she just needed a hug. "Jules is my big sister. I had to try to help. I-I know she has some problems with her temper, but that doesn't mean I should just ditch her. And, well... It's not fair. You and dad already did all the arguing just to get us here. You shouldn't have to do it anymore."
"You shouldn't have to do it at all," Markus countered with a reassuring squeeze around her shoulder. "And all the arguing was worth it to have you and Julie in our lives, kiddo."
'If you want to stay here with us, Daniel and I will do everything we can to make sure you do. Just have a little faith,' Markus had reassured the girls one night after an especially trying day of talking with the social workers. Because they wanted the girls to stay, they wanted to be a family. It was more than just a paycheck for them, she knew then, and she especially knew now.
"I... I know, and I'm glad you did it," she finally mumbled, unsure of anything else she could say. Claire nodded off under the safety of her dad's arm as the quiet continued, burrowing down into the feeling of warm acceptance and love. The last thing she felt as she drifted off was a soft kiss on the top of her head.
The cacophony that erupted around her was startling, and Claire floundered for a moment as she tried to process the unfolding chaos: everywhere she turned, people were screaming, running every which way and tripping over each other in their attempts to get to safety. Everything was a blur, but Claire caught glimpses of just what had the townsfolk in a frenzy; just outside the gates, red-eyed monstrosities were just barely held back by lines of guards — buying precious time for civilians to scramble indoors.
They were like nothing she'd ever seen; grotesque, toothy creatures of all shapes and sizes – some ran on four legs, and seemed to be the mounts, the others their riders. Occasionally Claire saw beady-eyed behemoths, smashing and attacking everything in sight like it was all made of glass – if they weren't stopped soon, the guard would be overrun. The city would be in ruins if something wasn't done. Soldiers poured from the gate of the massive castle above the town, racing to fill in the ranks around the town's perimeter.
The dream seemed to shift in time with two in particular, darting through the plaza. A mother and daughter, doing everything they could to stay undetected as monsters started breaking through. Before long, the battle found its way to them, and the mother scooped her child into her arms when the poor thing could no longer keep pace. She watched the battle over her mother's shoulder, wide-eyed and gaping at whatever she saw. The pair turned off the western street out of the plaza, and south toward the townhouses, before Claire could look back to see for herself.
As soon as they entered the fourth home from the west road, the woman that Claire had come to recognize as Lilith was scrambling about, gathering what looked to be ingredients. Nothing Claire herself could recognize, definitely not. The little girl she'd entered the house with was crouched against the wall beneath a table, as far from the door as she could be. 'Just like they taught her to,' she thought unnervingly. It was an older memory, though, and not what she was looking for. Rarely, even in her own dreams, was Claire afforded such an opportunity to observe and remember. Some dreams, they felt different. More vivid. Somehow, she knew this had to be one of them, and was cataloguing everything she could.
Claire noticed her eyes; rich green, surrounding a stormy blue that ringed her pupils. Such vibrant colours just weren't possible on Earth, Claire couldn't help but think. Not naturally, at least. Dark curls framed her face, in disarray from the sudden upheaval and damp from the downpour outside. She looked far, far more haunted than anyone her age should ever have, wide eyes seeing little, her little lungs seeming to strain with the quick breaths she was taking. Then again, there were monsters in the town, and she was only young. She had to be seven, at most. Just a little bean sprout, too young to be dealing with monsters.
All at once, everything was moving too quickly for Claire to keep track of. Lilith said something, surely words to a spell of some kind, because with what Claire could only describe as a violent absence of sound, she seemingly tore a hole in the fabric of reality. The process seemed roughshod and unpracticed, the image from the other side of the rip endlessly warping and distorting itself.
Whether it was Lilith's hands bundling a soft blanket over her shoulders as she stood her up that jarred the girl out of her shock, or the rip in time and space itself, something sparked a change in the girl.
"Mama, wait, I-I don't want to go, I don't want to do it! I want to stay with you!" she suddenly pleaded, clinging to Lilith's skirts desperately. "No, no no no! Please!"
Lilith was sobbing, and Claire could only just make out a repeated whisper of "Forgive me, please forgive me, my Rowan," as she forced her daughter through the tear in the world.
"Mama!"
Claire jerked awake with a gasp, disoriented by the feeling of fabric tangled around her legs when she nearly rolled off the couch in her haste to do... something. Even she couldn't say, half-awake and confused by the contents of her dream. All she was processing was people around me and what's going on, and she didn't care for it.
"Whoa, hey, you're okay," and there was Daniel, his soothing presence an immediate balm as Claire looked around the living room, reorienting. Markus - buzzcut, mismatched eyes, tall but not imposing, she'd noted when she saw him before awareness and recognition kicked in - was on the other side of the couch where he'd been when she fell asleep. Daniel must have been the one to put a blanket over her once he got home. Both their expressions were creased with concern that she could barely process; she was just awake enough to register that her parents were there.
Claire slumped against the couch as she quickly reoriented to her surroundings. She was in her living room, not the destroyed town and its castle; there were no monsters here, just thrifted furniture loaded with clutter, layered with soft blankets and throw pillows just about everywhere. The scariest thing she was sure to find in here would be the dust bunnies under the stairs, if anything.
"Just a dream," she mumbled, hoping to reassure her fathers somewhat. The wobble in her voice did her no favours. Claire beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom before either of them could speak up - she needed to take off her makeup anyways. She studied her appearance as the makeup was washed away: a little beaky nose, upturned eyes of blue-ringed-with-green, and the same barely-tamed curls the little girl in her dreams possessed. The little girl's hair matched her father's but she resembled Lilith the most, with her tanned, amber skin and angular eyes.
"Claire stared into the mirror, trying to picture them standing with her. Why couldn't she just remember? Lilith called her 'Rowan', and she's a dead-ringer for me. Am I Rowan? Gerome and Lilith... Are they my parents? The bigger question was; did Claire really want to know? Did it even matter, truly?
...No, they're not, no I don't, and no, it doesn't, she decided firmly. Markus and Daniel are my parents. Julie's my sister, and it doesn't matter who gave birth to us.
None of it explained the ears, though. They were pointed, like a freaking elf. Or the Hylians in Legend of Zelda, maybe, but that seemed like a bit of a reach. It was more likely some kind of weird mutation, but really? She and her sister both had weird elf-ears, though Claire's were more pronounced, much to her dismay. The damned things had to have come from somewhere, and they weren't biologically related, so what did that tell her?
Doesn't matter. We're family, so it doesn't matter. All Claire did was readjust her headband so her hair was still away from her face, but her ears didn't stand out so much. Not that it mattered here, but there was a saying about old habits...
When she came out of the bathroom, Julie and their parents were waiting in the living room. Jules must've gotten home while I was asleep.
"Hey, Claire, how do you feel about a movie night?" Markus asked when his youngest caught his eye. His eyes are blue and green too, I could just as easily be his, she thought rebelliously, knowing without needing to think about it that it was a lie. A pretty lie is still just a lie. "...If you're up to it, dad and I figured you could go out to get supplies for nachos and we could watch Star Wars tonight."
"Do we have time for a full marathon?" Claire asked hopefully, perking up almost immediately. Star Wars was pretty much the only movie franchise the family could agree on when it came to movie nights - Julie was partial to The Lord of the Rings (too long-winded for Claire to pay attention to), Markus liked Terminator (also one of Claire's favourites, but Daniel wasn't so enthusiastic), and Daniel was usually caught between The Mummy movies and Indiana Jones, though those were fairly popular in the house as well. But Star Wars... well, it was a classic among classics, the perfect comfort series on a crummy day like this one.
"Nothing less after a day like today. We'll see if we can stay awake long enough to watch them all," Daniel nodded with a chuckle. "How about it, then? Quick stop at Gatehouse Market and back?"
"You got it, Popstar. I nominate Jules to make the blanket pile while I'm gone, and I'm gonna laugh if it takes the whole ten minutes I'll be out," she ribbed good-naturedly as she stepped into her flats. She left the house to a chorus of 'bye's and 'love you's like they always did, stepping into the evening air with a little shiver. The sun had almost completely set, and the almost-autumn chill was taking the place of what had been a relatively warm day. At least I'm not walking far...
"Heya, Miss Claire! How's it going tonight?"
"Oh, you know. The usual— can't seem to make it a day without someone kicking up a fuss about something, right? How 'bout you, Roger? Get any old ladies whinging that your salads weren't fresh enough today?"
"Haha, you already know how it is, kiddo. What's on the menu tonight, hey? Gotta be more exciting than what's waiting for me back home," the man snickered, Claire shaking her head good-naturedly. It was something of a running joke between Roger and his customers that he and his wife both were hopeless in the kitchen, often getting by on the subpar microwave meals Gatehouse sold, or the somehow even more subpar 'chinese' restaurants Port Anderton had to offer.
"Nachos, with all the fixings," she informed him with faux severity.
Roger was the only cashier who ever seemed to be at Gatehouse Market, and he practically knew their whole family by name - at least three times a month one or more of them would come in to buy supplies for nachos, homemade pizza, a new recipe Julie saw online and just had to try out, or Markus' special lasagna, the list could go on. Roger was always friendly, and didn't seem to share the mindset of some of the more vocal townsfolk who disapproved of Claire's parents. He didn't say anything about it if he did, though, so who knew? Maybe he was just nice to Claire and Julie because he didn't believe in bullying teenagers, which would be a hell of a change from some of the other grown adults in this dump.
Or maybe he's just a decent person, Claire. It's not that deep, she thought with a shake of her head.
"You have a good night, now," Roger said with a warm smile as Claire pocketed the change. "Walk safe, alright?"
"I don't live far, you don't have to worry about me," she shrugged, returning the smile as she snagged the groceries. "See you next time! Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone," she teased on her way out the door. Claire might have stayed to talk with him longer, since Gatehouse was pretty much empty, but she was looking forward to movie night too much to linger once the dinner fixings were bagged and paid for. There was only so much time in a day, right? She wanted to spend as much of it watching Star Wars as she could, and nachos took prep work if they wanted to do it right. As she walked out the sliding doors, she shot off a quick text to Markus.
[Text: Claire-Bear] Hey, on my way home now :)
[Text: Marko-Polo] Awesome! See you soon, sweetheart
"Claire couldn't hold back another shiver as a particularly strong breeze buffeted at her clothes and shook the trees planted along the sidewalk. She even heard a few windows sliding closed, and muffled cursing from someone's yard overlaid by clattering plastic. Maybe lawn decorations, or patio furniture being knocked over. Jesus, I should've changed into pants before I left. I do not need a Marilyn Monroe happening right now.
Maybe less than halfway home, though, Claire started to feel strange. Her vision was going dark around the edges, like shadows swimming in her eyes. What's happening to me? She stumbled as her balance wavered. Something was very wrong. With shaking hands, Claire pulled out her phone once more.
[Text: Claire-Bear] dad something's wrong
[Text: Claire-Bear] idk what's happening
Dialing 'Marko-Polo'... Ringing... Ringing...
Claire's legs gave out beneath her, but she didn't remember hitting the ground as her world went dark.
Call failed, no signal. Return to service area, or connect to Wi-Fi to try again.
She could've sworn she heard a soft whisper of 'It's time to go home,' but she wouldn't remember it later.
A/N: And that's it for our prologue! I really wanted to flesh out Claire's home life more than I did in the original, and touch on some of the issues that might come with the foster system, the potential effects of Claire's amnesia, etc. Thanks for reading! The next chapter should be out soon-ish, one can hope ^^;
(edit: lol, so that was a fucking lie. Again, I'm very sorry)