Marked Destiny

Chapter 1

Annie gazed out the streaky window at the bustling traffic passing by. She knew that Mother Hope was looking at her, waiting patiently, but Annie had no words. Over the last few days her carefully crafted plans for the future had been blown to smithereens. She had been six months away from being free to live her life. One morning, a small mark on the inside of her wrist changed everything. Downstairs a young man waited to take her away from the only home she'd ever known and bring her to the one place she never- ever wanted to see.

"Staring out that window isn't going to change what's happening, Annie. You know that. You also know, deep down, this was always meant to be your path." The words were meant to be comforting, and usually Annie would find some measure of solace in the house mother's gentle tone. But at that moment, she couldn't get pass the anger and sadness. They cycled in her heart faster than whirlpool, twisting and churning untill she had no idea how she felt.

A few traitorous tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, leaving wet tracks down her cheeks to dangle at her jaw line. Annie felt them, but couldn't care enough to wipe them away. She wanted everyone to see her pain, to understand just how much she was hurting. Since the mark appeared on her skin, not once did anyone even ask if she wanted this. They all assumed she would be excited that she was finally called.

When word of her mark got around it created a joyous buzz in the , creaky house. She was constantly bombarded by hugs and squeals of animated joy. With each congratulation she received, Annie felt as if she was dying, piece by piece. Her dream of being on her own, in a quiet neighborhood where no one knew her, had evaporated in an instant. She wanted to yell at them all to stop it, that it wasn't a good thing. But they wouldn't understand. They all wanted what she had, to be called, to know their place in the world. There was no way they could fathom her anger at being called to serve.

With a resigned sigh, Annie pushed away and looked at Mother Hope. Her warm brown eyes held sadness and pride. Wordlessly she opened her arms and Annie rushed into them without hesitation. As they swayed from side to side, Annie memorized her scent, a unique combination of baby powder and vanilla. Annie would miss Mother Hope the most. She had been the closest thing to a mother she'd had since her own died when she was seven. She knew she'd see her again, eventually, it was one more uncertainty on top of a mountain of them.

"The gentleman downstairs has been waiting patiently, it's time, Annie," stated Mother Hope as they pulled apart. A slightly wrinkled hand caressed Annie's tear streaked face. "I understand the bitterness you're feeling, my dear, I do. This is your new calling in life. Embrace it, don't fight."

Annie scowled at the wise woman's advice. A brief flash of irritation flared in Annie toward the house mother. She didn't know what it felt like to have her life ripped apart. But as soon as the emotion came, it fizzled out. There was no more energy in her to sustain anger toward the person she owed so much to.

Mother Hope's hand gently tilted Annie's bowed head upward until they were staring eye to eye. "I get it, Annie. More than you know." With those whispered words, Mother Hope raised her arms and pulled back the sleeve that hugged her arm tightly. Annie dragged her eyes away from the penetrative stare to look at what Mother Hope had revealed. There on her inner left wrist was a faded pentacle and a triangle with a leaf in the middle. There was no third mark.

"You're a Halfling?"

Mother Hope simply nodded.

Questions, too numerous for Annie to voice, swirled in her head. Her mouth opened and closed several times in a vain attempt to know more about what she'd just been shown. However, fate had other ideas. A quick knock on the door caused many things to happen. Mother Hope hastily pulled her sleeve down, the door swung open to show Kayla staring worriedly and Annie realized, she was out of time. There was no more procrastinating, she had to go. Like it or not, there was nothing she could do to stop the path she'd been thrust upon.