Prolouge
December 13, 1997
4:00 AM
London, England
It was a dark night, and as the skies thundered unknown warnings of the future untold, and the lightning flashed through the northern parts of London, and the thunder roared a horrible roar, in a small hospital in a small town, a baby was born. The baby screamed and cried at her newfound surroundings, and as she did so, the trees outside swayed madly and the wind howled and pushed harder. The mother, laying in bed, smiled a loving smile to her baby and sang her a lullaby, softly and lulled her to sleep. The mother smiled at her husband, and the new family gathered together on the hospital bed. But suddenly, the window shattered, and a silver bird flew in and sat on the child. The bird began to glow, and the mother and the father were thrown back by the force of it. The child glowed a silver-blue color, and smiled a sweet smile as a glowing sign appeared before her, a swirling figure that looked like a tornado at first, then like a sun, then a teardrop. It banded itself on her shoulder, and then the bird faded into the air, and the baby closed her eyes peacefully, sleeping soundly.
