The Oracle. The Probe. The Shield. The Sword. The Arrow, and The Bow. All main characters in a centuries-old legend. One that was foretold by an Ancestor. Or, to be more accurate, an Ancestress. The highest of the high, the purest of the pure. One of the Guild. They were to meet, in a dreary little town in the country we now know as America. No one, not even the one who foretold this momentous occasion knew exactly where. All alone in their own ways, all scorned by those who were meant to care for them, to provide for them, to protect them. And in that darkness, the darkness that all lonely people live, they would form bonds so deep no enemy, not even Death itself, or any partial death could sever them. They were the only hope, the only whispers of rebellion that lined the dreams of their kind. They were to be the most powerful. Even more powerful than the corrupt, injust, so-called "Government" of their world. They were to be the change that their kind have been waiting so desperately for. And they never showed up. Their destiny was cast aside by those who should have feared them. They were said to have been nothing but an unattainable dream made up by a desperate witch. But those who still believed, held strong to their hopes. Now, present day, they have finally emerged. They are the Ones Foretold. They just don't know it yet.


They were always destined to be together. Actually, all of them were meant to form these bonds. Bonds so powerful they could easily bring the world to ashes. Standing in this moment, now, with those she loved firmly at her side, she finally realized the depth of these bonds. She couldn't break them if she tried. But who would ever want to, when you just knew that they would always have your back, and you would always have theirs? Being alone was something she had experienced before, and her friends, if you could call them as simple as something like that, had changed that for her. After all, it's not what it's all cracked up to be. And then there was him. He was the one who truly brought her into the light. Out of the darkness. He was the one who set her free, knowing she'd come back to him, time and time again. He was her life. No, more than that. Her destiny? Her fate? All of these things were true, and yet…nothing could ever describe what he was to her. No mere words could ever describe the pure strength and depth of her love for him. Even now, standing in the midst of destruction, her thoughts strayed to him, as they always would. Forever. It was, in the simplest terms, their destiny.

Chapter 1: Memories


"Bells! I'm leaving! Don't you wanna come give your daddy a hug?" He chuckled, eyes bright.

"Daddy! No! Don't leave!"

"Bells, my little girl, I have to go to work."

"But….something bad's gonna happen! I know it!"

"Come on, have a little faith in your daddy. I'll be fine. Give me a kiss?"

"Okay." I sniffed. "And I'm not little! I'm six years old!"

"Alright, alright. You're a big girl, I know. I love you!"

"Love you too, Daddy." His big, warm brown eyes crinkled up at the corners into the full-blown smile I loved. Blowing me a kiss, he left. Little did he know, that would be the last time I'd ever see him again. That afternoon, he was killed in the line of duty. The small town we lived in wasn't exactly a major center of crime, but on that one afternoon, Charlie, being the good police chief he was, was gunned down at a robbery. Not even a bank robbery, but at a little corner convenience store. The shooter was later arrested by Charlie's partner, charged for constructive manslaughter, and put in prison. But that didn't really matter to me. I was a six year old girl who had just lost her daddy. Nothing could comfort me.

I woke up in tears. Sitting up in bed, I pulled the covers off my body and swung my legs off the bed. I sniffled and then cursed my subconscious for the millionth time. This was one of the dreams that I had over and over again. But this one was worse than the nightmare, because this one was really the last memory I had of "the good days". Those all ended when Charlie died. Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm down. Once I stopped crying, I lay back down and tried to get back to sleep. I needed it. After all, tomorrow was my first day at a new school.

"Okay, students, class dismissed," my teacher announced as the dismissal bell rang. "Don't forget your social studies test is on Tuesday. You should take home your textbooks and study over the weekend." Replies of "yeah, whatever" rang back at her. I was, as usual silent and quiet in a corner, overlooked, yet watching the student closest to me's every move. This is what I usually did during classes, as I caught on to things quickly, and was always bored. I was what people would call a "rebel". Then again, they were the usual shallow high school students, those shallow-minded teenagers portrayed on TV only cared about themselves and their immediate so-called "crises". Just because I could fight, was somewhat different than them, and had a few marks on my record, I was pegged with a label, and shoved into a tiny little box. Sure I might participate in a few "unconventional" after-school activities, so what? It was another way to make the money I needed to support myself and my "mother".

Arriving at my-the- house, as my so-called mother reminded me, I unlocked the door. Yeah, "mom", I pay the bills and work hard to put food on the table while you go live it up, and it's you're house. That's fair. Please note my sarcasm. Mental eye roll, anyone?

The house was empty, as usual. I noticed she had made a mess again when she was getting pre-drunk drunk. A note left on the fridge demanded that I clean up the house. Of course, this was expected, as was cooking a meal for both of us, even though I would be the only one eating. I would have to put it in the fridge and she would eat it the next day. After all, she can't exactly eat dinner when she comes back wasted and maybe a little high from all that partying. God forbid she actually look after herself or take care of me instead of the other way around. Tomorrow would be a day of cleaning up puke and giving her Tylenol for her massive hangover. And the day after that would be the same thing all over again. Quoting her, "It's the weekend, baby! Relax." Yeah, well what about during the weekdays? Drinking all the time. Although, technically, as she had pointed out, "Drinking solo ain't partying, sugar!"

At least she was a happy drunk. It was hard enough trying to provide for the both of us on minimum wage. It had been worse when I was a kid. I had to stretch my babysitting money enough for groceries and bills. Thank God we still had Charlie's life insurance and the money he had left to us to help us limp along. Back then her partying wasn't as bad. She had turned to a life of bars and hookups as a coping mechanism after a long period of her just laying in bed all day, depressed and unresponsive. I don't know which was worse.

After doing my homework , doing the housework, and making and eating dinner, I checked the mail. Bills and ads made up the pile. I checked my cash stash and came up a little short. I needed to make the money by tomorrow. So I headed out to my… "side job". Street fighting.

"Hey Bells, fightin' tonight?" Jake asked. He had been my friend since we were really little. He was three years older than me, and his dad Billy had died in a car accident about a year ago. We had stayed in touch, as he had helped me accept my dad's death before my mom decided we just had to move to Arizona. When the accident happened, I invited him to come live with me and my mom, since he was eighteen, a legal adult. He had moved over here, and crashed at our place for a couple of weeks, before Renee decided that since it was her house, and the guys she brought home didn't like having Jake there, she would kick him out. He got his own place and a job at the fast food store I worked at, but, like me, it hadn't been enough. So he turned to street-fighting. He was a pretty good fighter. Never lost, except to me. He always said I was just unnaturally good at it. We watched each other's backs.

"Yeah. And I told you to call me ?" I asked.

"Sure,sure. You know I'm used to Bells. Be careful. One o' them big guys was bragging about this new knife he got. Said he was gonna' use it soon."

"Don't worry. I can take care of myself. You should look out too."

"Duly noted. You got your's? You know, just in case?"

" Never leave home without it."