Ember Hope *** The Very Long Prologue... (tee hee! :)

by Sis in Hogwarts, trying to figure out why everyone's staring at my new wand. *holds up a stick up dynamite*

EMBER isre

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The Very Long Prologue...

One by one, window by window, the city extinguished its lights, plunging the night into darkness. And silence. Not even the night owls, who's very domain was the night, dared to utter a sound. The leaves nestled cozily upon the branches refused to rustle in the wind. And the stars, the once brightly shining stars, seemed to have dimmed, letting not a single eye wander on their beauty. Nope. Not tonight. Because tonight would be different. One simply knew it, felt it flowing in their veins, pounding in their heart, shouting in their heads.

In the distance, barely on the horizon, something flickered, wavering in the darkness. Those blind to anything worth their attention wouldn't see it; they would think it was the lighthouse, shining brightly despite the pleasant weather. Maybe the owner had been too lazy to switch it  off for today.

But let me assure you, it was anything but the lighthouse, for if you strained your eyes, squinting at that light in the distance, something in your mind would click. And that something would tell you the light in the distance was a ship, a ship burning away under the moonlight. And it was.

Thousands of miles away, the S.S. Caesar was falling apart, burning so rapidly it was a miracle everyone had escaped unharmed. Or at least...that's what they thought.

Smoldering masts crackled in the unnatural heat, daring to fall down within seconds. Ashes rained down onto the ship, and flames, growing by the minute, danced along the deck, melting right through the wood..  However, beyond the cackling of the wood, beyond the creaking of the masts, there lay another sound, a sound so faint it seemed it didn't exist. But it did.

Underneath the deck, amidst all the ash and rubble, was a pile of fallen, wooden planks, charred, some still burning. And partially hidden under it all was something small and ever so delicate. It was a baby, a baby girl.

Her eyes were closed, but she was still alive, though barely. Her heart pounded rhythmically, and short, wavering breaths emitted from her small toothless mouth. She was asleep.

And only three miles away, in an overcrowded lifeboat, sobbed an auburn-haired lady. "I'm telling you, Captain, I saw a baby on that ship. We need to go back!" She squinted at the faint light in the distance, the burning ship, waterfalls of blackened tears streaming down her face. So what if that baby didn't belong to her! She knew what it felt like to lose a child, that burning sensation ripping at your heart, knowing that there was nothing you could do about it.

Yes, she knew exactly how it felt, and she didn't want any other mother feeling that way ever again.

"Ma'am, I do not recall any babies on board my ship. You were probably just hallucinating. Typical, after all this stress," pressed the blue-suited captain, his voice firm.

"But sir! I am absolutely sure I saw a baby on that ship. I have no doubts at all, and I am not one to hallucinate."

"Ma'am--" started the captain, trying to keep his voice steady, but the woman rashly interrupted him.

"Please, captain. Turn this boat around, and let me search the ship just once. Please..." the woman pleaded desperately, her heart aching for the newborn that she was so sure she had seen. But even as she spoke, she saw through the corner of her eye, the ship in the distance vanishing below the horizon, bubbles gushing to the surface as the huge vessel, once so grand, sunk into the watery depths. And then it was silent once more.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. I really am..."

You'd think that delicate baby would've surely perished by now...but you'd be wrong, for as the S.S. Caesar perished to bits, a few stray planks made their way to the ocean's surface, bobbing to the rhythm of the tide. And who should be sleeping peacefully upon one of these charred planks, but the baby, the sweet, fragile young baby. And as the stray plank drifted eastward, the baby girl stirred, smiling ever so slightly in her sleep.

As if on signal, the once so silent night lit up with life. Owls hooted their nighttime choir, crickets chirped sweet lullabies, and the stars, the countless stars, cast their celestial light upon the sleeping baby, the baby who had cheated death not once, but twice.

Then, so suddenly one could've blinked and missed the scene, the baby's eyelids fluttered open.

Revealing two sets of huge eyes. Huge golden eyes... They lit up like lanterns in the eerie shadows of the night, illuminating her way across the sea, putting the twinkling stars above to shame.

But the baby couldn't have roamed the savage seas forever, and so, as the newborn dawn was just beginning to streak the horizon, she reached a small seashore, washed down after years and years of endless tides.

"Hey, Lo! Come here!" came a distant voice. The faint silhouette of a boy ran to the baby, studying her closely before jumping up in surprise.

"What? What is it?" a younger girl came skipping after the boy, stopping suddenly when she saw the baby girl. "Is that....A baby?" The boy nodded silently, picking her up in his arms. "B-but are her eyes...is that normal?" the girl stuttered, lost in the baby's large, fantasy-like golden eyes.

"Let's go. We know where to take her," the boy murmured, not really answering his sister's question. His voice was barely a whisper.

"To Hope's?"

"Yep."

"But--"

"Lo, don't you understand?" the boy's voice was strained, though a little hoarse. "If we let her out to just any old house, they'll give her to a circus, put her in some freak show! Do you really want that to happen?"

"No..."

"Hope is the best choice... Okay?"

"Okay," Lo whispered.

And so, the two took off, sprinting away from the shore into the starry, breezy night, cradling a fragile baby girl who would some day show just how important she could be.