Fate comes in dreams.

The sea was churning violently where it crashed against the rocks that lined the bottom of the tallest cliff side just north of Blackpool. The sky an ominous blanket of gray that flashed often with lightning that brought the crack of thunder directly after. It hadn't yet started to rain, but it was most certainly going to. Alice Clare, stood at the edge of the top of that same cliff. Thirteen, and willowy -- already tall for her age and not yet fully broken within her mind. Though the signs were there. The deep darkness she found herself in that had nothing to do with the fresh wounds that came with the loss of her parents. The way she would stare at her mother, and Pandora would wonder if Alice even knew who she was with the blank that filled the depths of her pretty blue eyes. How her father found her one night two months ago, frantically searching though the dirt with her bare hands because she knew, just knew, that beneath the earth there was something that was going to hurt her. Ophelia had already begun to make excuses for the four minutes younger sister who was having so much trouble concentrating, and differentiating between reality and fiction.

The last month had less moments of clarity than her whole life. Whether it was the budding mental illness in the barely-teenage witch, or how she'd watched from the thicket of trees while her parents had been viciously murdered by a face she'd always known, who knew. What she did know now, when the sky above was so cloudy, but her mind was not, was that she'd only end up a burden for Fee. A nuisance for her Granddad. Half of the people who loved her had been wrenched away, and all she wanted was her mama's arms, and her father's wide smile. 

Wind whipped about the nightgown around her ankles, and lifted through the dark gold of her hair and lightning seemed to come closer than it had before. It was only a jump. Not even a jump from where she stood with bare toes curling over the edge of the cliff! A step. One little step, and she'd have them back, and Ophelia would already be free. 

Just a step .. one small step .. and when she took it with that thought running through her head, the rain began to fall and so did Alice Clare. Sailing through the air with no gravity to hold her up. How long was it? Minutes? Seconds? Nothing hurt like the wall of water she hit as if she was weighed a ton. Going under brought a silent scream to bubble up, and she'd never truly know how close she came to hitting rock instead of water; and the waves of the rolling Irish sea would crash her into the closest ones; the scrape of skin against rock a burn. The body was a thing constantly at war with the mind, and hers fought to get to the surface -- and then failed.

But a strange thing happened when she felt the last of the air leaving her body, when she felt the dizzying effect that came with a loss of consciousness on it's way. 

A glowing shape sparked up in the deep black that surrounded her, and for a moment, Alice Clare thought perhaps the feminine and lovely shape was a mermaid that skimmed it's way towards her but no, there was no fin. Just fire. It had no face, just a decidedly human shape that stopped just before her. 

This is not right, a voice she never heard sang song within her head, this is not what you are meant for, Donovan witch. I have chosen you and I am never wrong. Here, hold my hand, I will take you to safety. The burn of the fiery appendage was something Alice would remember forever, even when she didn't quite realize it. While they moved through the water, away from the cliffs, The Flame continued to speak inside her head. She had nothing way to struggle against the pull, even if she wanted to.

I need you, Donovan witch, for it is your turn to serve your family. Chosen. Remember, I said that -- I chose you! Such a wonderful thing to be chosen, to be accepted, isn't it? You're needed too, sweet Donovan witch. You are one of six, called upon to make the tough decisions for the council your family helped create. Called upon, to silently and selflessly save the day. I need you, Donovan witch. Your father served me well, but his time came to an end, and yours is now beginning. This is not what you were meant for. This is not right. You are right, how you are to serve, is right. You can not leave them, Donovan witch, and most importantly, you can not tell a soul, or it will be more than just your parents you'll find yourself losing. Not even the sister you were made from. You must not let her in, not let her see this memory, Donovan witch. Block her from your mind where this is concerned, like you've already taught yourself to do. Only the six shall know. You are important, Donovan witch. More than you'll ever know. This isn't right. But now it's over. Now you're safe from the death you wished yourself. Serve them well, Donovan witch -- and remember, it is you who controls these waters, not the other way around.

The scorching heat around her wrist disappeared and so did the flame and the dizzy feeling rushed away -- and brought with it stunning realization that she was already halfway out of the water, face down in the shore. Coughing and sputtering, Alice Clare rolled to her back, wild waves lapping at her body as she lay in the grainy wet sand. Every word that filled her head bounced around in it, and for a moment while she fought for a proper breath, while she spit up the water that was in her lungs she figured it was just a dream. Until she turned her head, and saw that the cliff she'd just stepped away from was at least a mile away. And the lift of her hand showed red around her wrist that wasn't there before she'd jumped. 

Chosen. Now what the heck was she supposed to do with that?