Chapter 1

They came for Sid, and took him away to Storyboard when Ilena was only ten.

"They're at the door right now! I think they're asking for me!" he whispered to her, hissing eager words of barely constrained excitement. "What do you reckon, 'Leny? I bet I'm going to be a Hero, or maybe a really cool Mentor!"

Ilena grasped the handle of the closet door and pulled; the rays of golden light pouring in from the living room dwindled down to a sliver, shrouding the both of them in darkness. "Hero or Mentor, it doesn't matter." She said softly. "What matters is that you're going to go away, and I'm not going to have anyone to talk to."

"You have Rosalind." Sid replied as he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. "You see her more often than you see me, seeing as you live with her, and all."

Ilena blanched. "I know, Sid, but it's not the same. Sisters are different than friends. Besides, she's not like you."

The murmur of voices from downstairs grew louder—strange, deep voices, mingled with the familiar alto of Sid's mother. The repeated thud of footsteps on stairs only caused Ilena to huddle closer to her friend as she muttered secret hopes under her breath, let them forget, let them go away, don't let them take Sid—

Light spilled into the closet. Ilena recoiled, squinting from the sudden illumination, the silhouette of Sid's mother just a smear of darkness in front of her. Warm hands wrapped gently around her wrists and drew her out of the closet. The rustle of blankets next to her told her Sid wasn't far behind. She scrubbed hair from her face as she blinked, trying desperately to adjust to the light.

"Sidney, sweetheart, come here." His full name. In all her years of knowing him, Ilena had never heard Sid's mother use his full name.

Sid's mother knelt before her son, smoothing errant strands of ebony hair out of his eyes. She spoke quietly, succinctly. "These men are going to take you to a very important place. Listen to them, all right? You're going to be just fine."

Sid frowned. "When am I going to see you again?"

His mother smiled, but her voice was tinged with a sadness that pulled at something deep in Ilena's chest. "I don't know, dear. But don't forget that I love you, and that I'll always keep you in my heart."

Ilena watched as Sid pulled his mother in for a wordless embrace, all the intention in the world contained in the way his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Hopeful, desperate thoughts pulled at the corners of her mind—it's going to be okay he'll only be a little while Sid will be home before you know it—but she somehow couldn't shake the feeling of ominous fear that clung to the back of her throat and made her mouth as dry as sawdust.

"Leny."

She turned and gazed into Sid's large, blue eyes, which were as dark as the ocean.

"Take care of yourself, and Rosalind too. Keep my mom company if I don't come back soon ... she gets lonely sometimes." He said as he gently clasped the thin slope of her shoulder.

Ilena willed the tears back and managed a tremulous smile. "I will. Don't be too long, idiot."

Sid was already walking out the door with his escorts in tow, but he turned briefly and lifted the edge of his mouth in a silent farewell.

A head of wild red tresses poked over the side of her bed. "Lee-Loo, come to dinner already! The fish is going to get cold." Rosalind's voice, singsong and sweet, rattled around in Ilena's head. She scowled and rolled over, drawing the covers up around her head. "Go away, Rozzie. I've told you, I'm not hungry."

She felt a finger prod the small of her back. "Dad already thinks you're too skinny. You have to eat."

"Tell Dad I'll eat later."

Rosalind reached out and tugged at a loose strand of Ilena's brown hair. "Is it because of Sid? You really need to stop worrying about him. I bet he's having a lot of fun, saving people and fighting dragons and stuff in Storyboard. You know he's going to be a Hero."

"Do I?" Ilena sat up suddenly, and Rosalind, startled, took a few steps back. "What if he becomes a Villain? Or worse, a Sacrifice? What if some stupid Author just kills him and I never get to see him again?" She was shouting now, the harshness of her voice grating on the muscles of her throat.

"What if, what if, what if!" Rosalind yelled right back, little fists balled in fury. "You can't live your life like this! You're going to worry yourself to death!"

It was like all the wind had rushed out of her sails. Ilena slumped over, tears dripping onto her white-knuckled hands as they clutched at the blankets around her. "You're right," she mumbled. "I should have more faith in them. I should have more faith in Sid."

The bed creaked as Rosalind climbed up beside her and buried her face into Ilena's disheveled brown hair. "Don't cry, Lee-Loo. Everything is going to be fine."

Soft, little hands curled themselves around Ilena's waist as Rosalind nestled into her side. The worry was already starting to bleed out of her little sister's face; Rosalind was just like that, Ilena thought wryly. Rosalind, ever an optimist, determined to believe that everything would be all right.

"Come on, Rozzie, let's go and eat." Ilena murmured as she gently took one of Rosalind's small hands in her own. "Although, for a seven year old, you're still pretty chubby, so maybe you'd consider giving me your dessert—"

"Be quiet!" Rosalind snapped, but laughter sparkled in her eyes. "I need to grow too!"

Any lingering thoughts of Sid were pushed to the back of her mind as Ilena giggled at Rosalind's antics, and went to join their father at the dinner table downstairs. She wouldn't think of Sid again for a long, long time. Soon, his memory would become nothing but a blur.

Twelve Years Later

He gnawed on the tip of his pen. The idea was bubbling at the forefront of his mind, aching to flourish in artful prose across his computer screen—but not yet, not yet, he still needed to plan, to organize. A world came to mind. A setting. He snatched his notebook from his desk and flipped it quickly to a fresh, blank page. His pen scrawled words and circles across the paper. Characters, personalities, the bare skeleton of a plot. There would be magic and whimsy and fantasy.

The days were growing warmer now, winter bleeding into the first tendrils of spring. The spicy scent of damp leaves and grass permeated the air, providing a refreshing respite for the students who were only just beginning to exit their study halls and classes. A breeze sent crisp, cool air rustling through the maple trees that lined the campus walkway. Snippets of idle conversation wafted to and fro as students and professors milled from building to building.

Ilena dipped and wove between the throng of people, gritting her teeth through the stitch in her side. Her satchel strap was starting to grind into her shoulder. She was almost positive her right hip would bear a healthy bruise from the way the books in her bag were knocking against her as she trotted through the crowd. Despite herself, Ilena pressed onward, moving stubbornly toward the two wrought-iron gates at the end of the lane. She was eager to get home, and relieve herself of the day's burdens.

The tram was already idling at its stop as she rounded the block. Ilena fumbled with her wallet as she dashed to the open doors, managing to catch the tail end of the line that was piling into the vehicle. She flashed her ID at the driver and sank into the nearest seat with a sigh of exhaustion. Wednesdays were always particularly trying, what with the flurry of classes and research she had brought upon herself. But none of that mattered now. Ilena felt her mouth curve into a faint smile. In a few short minutes, she would be home, surrounded by the tantalizing scent of Rosalind's cooking and her father's words of welcome.

She felt her mind start to drift as the tram wove its way through the twists and turns of its routine stops. Buildings flashed by her window; the commerce center, with its towering, blue-and-white dome; the smattering of trees in the distance that heralded the park; the curved sculpture of a stretching woman, bespeckled green and blue. Hexameron had taken a turn for the metropolitan, Ilena thought idly. She dimly recalled much more wildness and greenery during her childhood years. The concrete jungle of the city center was starting to creep into the more rural areas of the community.