It was a quiet evening that afternoon in the city of Bath as the evening hours of winter laid the place into a peaceful dreaming landscape of snow dusted architecture and gleaming ice across the waterfront's edges. It was a night where the dream of someone would be granted by the dream of another.

Misses Lily favored herself as a good housewife. Always having dinner prepared, their apartment well cleaned and nice even with the cat hair of their two beloved pets often leaving the living room carpet in need of hoovering. The loveseat they kept though was always spotless despite Oreo's finest efforts, and the coffee table in front of it lay covered in the extra remotes and controls of their various retro consoles. Collected over the years with the help of a rather energetic pair of friends her wife called brothers who she was certain shared no blood relation, they had leapt over backwards to help their plan to move in together years ago.

The apartment was small, a two bedroom with the spare bedroom converted into a small book shelf and vanity room for Misses Lily as she had a love for dressing up. She wore a bit more tame of dress today with a simple old hoodie swiped off her wife that was grey and baggy on her with some loose grey short shorts. She kept her black hair tied back in a tight bun during the day while she cleaned. The wallpaper was still standard, but they had put up several paintings and posters as her wife came from a bit of a louder culture originally before moving here to be with her.

Most might find their relationship quite strange, but the two loved each other and worried little about outside views. Misses Lily was also privy to a secret of her wife that she had kept rather quiet even back in her home country. She knew magic. Old magic. She rarely used it, cautioning Lily against the practice as a means of making short cuts in their life, so ensuring that food and their pets were always cared for had been a happy medium the two shared.

Glancing at their clock that resembled a brass ring of spikes with a skull in the center that was from one of Cassandra's favorite franchises, she grew a little concerned as her wife was later than usual. She was always very good about being on time due to her anxiety disorder.

She glanced at her phone and debated making a call when she heard a knock on the door. Assuming her wife had just forgotten her key, she leaped over the table and jogged to the door at the end of the thin hallway. "You forgot it again didn't you?" Playfully chastising as she opened up the door.

She saw nothing at first making her brow furrow. Looking down, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Sleeping peacefully in a little basket was a small babe. A little one bundled up in lavender and red cloth with a tuft of dark hair peeking out beneath it.

"... What in the Bloody fuck???" Lily muttered, looking out of the hall frantically. "Hey!! Who left their kid?!" Her yelling quickly awoke the sleeping babe, and panic began to set in.

"Oh no no, no little one," kneeling down, scooping up the basket, "Shhhh, shhh it's ok." She brought the basket inside and began to rock the babe slowly as she texted her wife frantically.

The front door opened a minute later to the stunned stare shared between the two. Her wife was taller than her by a couple inches with a broad chest and long black hair. Her eyes were blue with golden flex, and she wore a beaten up t shirt covered in grime from pallets she moved. The jean shorts she always wore were equally stained. Her face was slightly rounder and had a big, wide kind of smile normally. Right now, her glasses were nearly falling off her face however.

"Is that..." Her loud voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Yep..."

"Where...?"

"Front door step."

"..."

There was a quiet between them as Lily knew deep down what this meant. Cassandra had always wanted a kid, but their circumstances made them both unable to conceive, and sadly, not allowed to adopt under the current laws. There were loopholes if a family member gave them a child or a surrogate, however...

"Casey..."

"Lily, you don't have to- "

"This... This could be the only way babe."

She could see a tear welling up in Casey's eyes.

"I know it's risky and who knows the real parents could come back, but... If we called your brother Charlie..." She trailed off slowly.

Both quietly looked down at the slumbering babe. "They would want a blood test.." Casey said.

"Would...?"

"Yeah. I'll make a few calls."

10 years later

"Barbara!" Shouted Casey as she chased after the young girl as she briskly walked from shelf to shelf of the book store and plucked off new books. Heavy black curls topped with a little pink raven bow in her hair keeping her bangs out of her. Her skin was porcelain white to the point the bullies at school would often call her snake face, but she didn't ever give them much attention. She wore a thick black sweater decorated with buttons of her little drawings and a long ankle length grey skirt that just barely allowed her little pink sneakers to peek out.

Holding on to a new horticulture text tightly alongside a few copies of candle making, she rushed to the front desk.

"Well well, that's quite the little collection you grabbed. Don't you have this book?" Her mother pointed to the horticulture text.

"No... Last years..." The girl spoke very shyly, keeping her voice low.

"Ahhh, I see. Well, got to keep up right?" She smiled, roughly her hair and getting a tiny smile in return.

"Thanks mama..." She muttered softly. Her beautiful blue eyes gleamed at the thought of more information. Paying for the books and heading out to their care, the little one had quite the bounce in her step.

That was around the time both heard the soft coo of an owl overhead. Barbara was the first to look up and see a snowy white owl circling overhead with a parcel clutched between its talons. She turned to her mama who looked utterly in shock.

"By the gods..." She mumbled in her funny voice that always sounded so strange compared to others she knew.

"What is it...?" She asked just as the owl landed on their roof with a clatter, before taking off again to the skies as a small parcel was left. Bound in twain and stamped with a rather peculiar seal.

"Your letter, our little Raven."