Prologue-1777

Prologue-1777

James Ward woke up staring at the canopy on a bed. He blinked his eyes, trying to remember. He had been somewhere… He shook his head, trying to remember, and promptly cracked it against the headboard.

“Ouch!” he cried out in small pain, but mostly surprise.

He heard a little giggle, that sounded almost like; “Abigail?” James’s voice shook as he asked, almost afraid to know the answer, whether or not it was his dead little sister.

“No,” said the girl. James immediately knew it wasn’t her, even without the negative answer. “I am sorry. But, no, I am not a ghost, nor a demon. I am not here to haunt you.” She answered all his unspoken questions.

“Who are you, then?” James was rough with his question. He was a soldier, even though he was only 15. He had fought in the front lines with General Washington. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by a little girl.

“You know me. I saved your life.”

“It was you?!” he asked in great surprise as his memory came back in a flood. He had been shot in the arm, in searing pain. He had tried to go back to tents, but he wasn’t quick enough. He was going to be shot, either by a red coat or one of their cannons, as he lay on the ground, bleeding, but he had been pulled out of the way with his uninjured arm. He had lost consciousness after that.

“Yes.” Her answers were always simple, straight to the point. It was very frustrating; she hadn’t gotten to the points he wanted to cover a single time yet. To add insult to injury she was still hiding in the shadows.

“Well, could you at least come out, then? I need to be able to thank you properly, after all,” James coaxed her.

The little girl stepped into the light of the few candles in the room. Her hair was black and very long. It was tied up in a way he had never seen before. Her hair was up in two ponytails, on the sides of her head. She wore a long white dress with flowing sleeves, like the princesses in some of the illustrations of the books he had read to Abigail when she was very little. Her eyes were pitch black, but they seemed very kind, to him.

“Who are you?” James asked again. “Are you a witch?”

“No, I’m not a witch. But close. I am a goddess. My name is Twilight Dawn.”

“And what do you have to do with me?”

“By saving your life I have put many things in motion. There is a future ahead for us both that will be different than anything either of us has ever encountered. And you will be my brother throughout it all.”

“What?” he was so confused.

Twilight smiled slightly. “I am not human, but you can tell, of course, can’t you. You have no reason to stay human. You will become like me, and out of choice, too. You will be reborn.”