Hello Everyone! I'm back!

To all people who are new to my work, welcome! To people who have read my stuff before, welcome back! If you're new to this story, be aware that this is a sequel. I'd recommend reading my other story first, but you don't have to if you don't want to. I think I put enough detail in this story to compensate.

So, just a few things you need to know. I included a prologue here because there are some important details you need to know beforehand. It's entirely from Emma's point of view, an albino character from my last story (Austin's little sister). I put it in the first person, and if you've been following this particular franchise than you know I don't usually do that. I'm actually better at writing in the first person, but that just doesn't work for this series, so to be clear, the whole first person thing is for the prologue only. The rest of the story will be in the usual third person, switching back and forth between Austin and Ally (Though I may include a few Emma chapters).

So anyways, I hope you enjoy! I also hope you're as excited about this story as I am!

P.S. I'll post the first chapter first thing tomorrow, which will probably be in a little over twelve hours.

Disclaimer: I don't own Austin and Ally.


My head shot up at the sound of my name, and I tried to chase away the last fleeting remnants of sleep. I looked up at the woman who had called to me, and imposing forty-year-old, who was looking at me with a stern expression, her arms crossed and her foot tapping.

Uh oh, I thought. I'm in trouble.

"Can you tell us, Miss Dale, the name of our current prime minister?" The teacher asked. I was pretty sure she wasn't expecting an answer, but I was a smart girl, even when waking up from a nap.

"Steven Harper." I answered, stifling a yawn. The teacher, Mrs. Yamani, almost looked disappointed.

"Please refrain from sleeping in class, Miss Dale." She added, and a few of the other students snickered. I murmured a small 'yes mam' and returned my attention to the textbook in front of me.

School was a very recent discovery for me, and I found that it was sometimes difficult to stay awake. It wasn't even due to the fact that I had to get up early to attend. I was used to being woken up at ungodly hours. It was because I already knew most of what the teacher was teaching. When you have a perfect memory and a love for reading, you tend to learn things fast.

It had been exactly one month ago that I had traveled across Ontario and settled down in the rainy town of Thunder Bay. I'd picked this town purely for the lack of sun. It wasn't completely avoidable, but I did my best. The cold weather helped. I'd also come here following a certain lead. I was looking for answers to a few mysteries that composed my life.

When I was very young, three or four, my parents had given me away, illegally, to a religious nut and psychopath named John. He locked me in a basement with no light other than a red lamp that plugged into the wall, and gave me a sleeping bag to sleep on. Much later, he got me a notebook and pen, then a couple instruments to entertain me. It wasn't even out of some sort of twisted affection; it was because he was scared of me, and rightfully so.

John had taken to kidnapping and murdering children, people who were almost always my age, and he would do it right in front of me. I always tried my best to ease their passing, but they were kids, and it was hard. One day, though, he brought in a boy, a blonde haired, brown eyed celebrity. He turned out to be my brother.

Sometimes I wonder if John had intentionally taken a relation of mine to mess with my head (as if it wasn't messed up already). If he did, his plan backfired. Me and my brother, Austin, managed to team up and send a message to his friends as to his whereabouts. Our plan almost fell to pieces when John tried to move us somewhere else, but I stopped him, and Austin was saved.

And that is the mystery that brought me to Thunder Bay; how I stopped him. It shouldn't have been possible. Heck, I hardly remember the moment at all, which shouldn't be possible because I don't forget things. All I know is that I was suddenly filled with a powerful rage, and that I pushed him. Next thing I knew, he was dead.

The whole thing scared me to no end. I'd spent my entire life telling John, and my parents for that matter, that they were wrong, that that wasn't who I was. And then I had to go and do something like that.

I knew what their theory was. I knew exactly why they were scared of me. I also knew that they weren't alone in their theories. There was a whole network of people that I'd been tracing to find some answers, to find someone who could help me fight it. Because, to be honest, after what I did to John, I was about as scared of myself as everyone else seemed to be. At last, I'd finally set up a meeting with someone for later that day, and I was counting down the seconds until the bell rang, freeing me from class.

Eventually, the bell did come, acting as a mercy call. It's strange; I'd looked forward to school my entire life, and now that I was in school, it almost felt like I was back in prison. I certainly still got the stares of suspicion and disdain, which were almost as bad as the stares of fascination. I was treated either like a curse or a science project, and I couldn't even look forward to learning new things. I guess I shouldn't have spent a week in the library following my escape.

I grabbed my stuff and darted out of the class as quickly as possible, keeping my head down pointedly to avoid the other students. I didn't take the bus, since I technically didn't have a home, so I left school ground immediately, walking down the street at a brisk pace. I didn't look left or right the whole time, and made my way to the university in determination.

The person I was supposed to talk to was a university professor. He taught some form of religion, if I remembered correctly. A fitting position. Anyways, his classroom was at the far side of campus, so I had to walk through the entire campus to get there. I attracted a lot of attention, probably because they weren't used to seeing such a young person around school grounds. Still, I was always anxious about my albinism, and couldn't help but fear that they were all staring at my white hair and pale skin. They couldn't be staring at my eyes. I kept my gaze on the sidewalk.

Of course, it didn't help that I was unnatural for an albino. I didn't even realise that my looks were unusual among my own kind until about a week after I'd gotten out, and I'd come across a book on the subject in the library. The white hair and pale skin was common, but albinism usually didn't associate with a small frame like mine. I wouldn't attribute it to albinism, if it weren't for the fact that I wasn't related to anyone with a small frame. And then there were the eyes. Always the eyes. Albinos could very well have red eyes, but not like mine. They should be more pink. They shouldn't be blood red. It wasn't right.

Maybe it had something to do with what happened to John.

Raindrops started falling lightly from the sky, and I quickened my pace. Rain was very common in Thunder Bay, and though I blessed the cloud cover every time, no one liked getting soaked, especially when it was five degrees outside. Not that I felt the cold, but still.

I finally reached the building I was looking for. The building wasn't nearly as big as the other buildings that composed the campus, but it was impossible to miss. It was shaped like a giant church. I grinned to myself as I walked over the threshold and God didn't strike me down. If only my parents could see me now.

There weren't many classrooms in the church building, so finding the room I was looking for was pretty easy. Standing outside the large, wooden doors with ornate golden numbers, I took a deep, steadying sigh. This could be it. This could be when I finally get my answers. For all I knew, I could be doing something productive soon, something that would actually help me. I took that knowledge, and used it as courage, pushing the doors in and taking a step inside.

The room was an office, about 12 feet by 12 feet. It was clearly an older space, with wooden walls and a ragged carpeted floor. The walls, shelves, chairs and desk were all decorated with many different religious artifacts, prominent among those being the cross and the Virgin Mary. Not everyone I'd encountered was distinctly Christian, but most were, and this man most certainly was. As for the man himself, he was sitting at his desk, hunched over a piece of paper on which he was writing furiously. His hair was white and thinning and wrinkles covered what skin I could see. He looked like he should have retired a century ago.

I cleared my throat loudly, announcing my presence. Apparently, his hearing wasn't too compromised by his age, because he looked up immediately, peering at me through a pair of round glasses. For a moment, he seemed confused, but then his eyes lit up in recognition, followed quickly by curiosity.

"Ah," He said, setting his pencil down on the desk. "Emma, I presume?"

"Yes sir." I said, shutting the door behind me and stepping loser to the desk.

"I've been waiting for you." He said, smiling and winking at me. He gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the desk from where he sat. "Have a seat, my dear."

I did as he asked and sat in the chair. No sooner had I sat down did he add "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Now, I'd made considerable improvement in the past month when it came to interacting with people, and I knew the polite thing to do would be to say yes. But he was religious, and though I have nothing against religion, I found out early in life that I could not trust religious people, especially the Christian ones. Now, I'm sure there are a lot of very nice Christians out there, but I'm sorry, I couldn't trust this man like I could other people.

"No, thank you." I said, putting on my sweetest voice. Thankfully, he didn't seem offended, and simply proceeded to pouring himself a cup of tea. I waited as patiently as I could while he did so, focusing all my energy on staying still (which was not an easy feat, let me tell you).

My patience paid off in the end, and he eventually started up the conversation I'd come for. "So," He started. "You came here seeking answers."

"Yes, sir." I said.

"Answers about yourself, no less." He continued, almost more to himself than to me. He chuckled slightly before continuing. "You've come far to find answers."

"I know." I answered, looking down at my hands. It was a habit I'd acquired from living in a basement for most of my life. "But I need to know why it all happened. Why my mom and dad gave me up…" I trailed off and frowned, not wanting to say more on the particular subject.

The man's smile faded into something more soft, something almost like sympathy. He knew my particular story. "I understand." He said. "And I do believe that you deserve some answers. So I will tell you what I know."

I smiled at him, relief flooding through me. "Thank you." I said.

"So what are your particular questions?"

I thought about it for a moment, thinking of everything that had happened. There was just so much I wanted to know. Well, when in doubt, start at the beginning. "Why did they give me up?" I asked. So much for avoiding the topic. "Was it because I'm albino?" I looked down again.

He frowned slightly. "Not exactly." He said. "You see, many of your parents' particular religious beliefs mention albinism at some point. Some thought it was a curse, others thought it was a disease. A few believed that albinos were demons sent to earth. None of it was ever proven, however, and modern science discarded a lot of those beliefs." He sipped his tea, and then gave me a pointed look. "You are not just an albino, however. And that's where the more gruesome legends come from. Your eyes are too red, the colour of blood. You have a small frame that's unnatural for a human. Together, these point to a particular legend, one that still sends fear into the hearts of modern scientists."

He took a break, sipping at his tea again, waiting for him to continue. After a few more moments, he did. "I don't know the legend exactly, but it mentions frail children with red eyes and white hair who wreaked havoc on earth. It is said that they were some sort of receptor for a higher evil, a doorway into the human world. Some still think they were demons themselves." He sighed deeply. "It was just like the time of witch hunts. Believers gathered up weapons and hunted down these children, killing them before they became too dangerous. Children like such are born every now and then, but they've always been hunted down, even in modern times."

"I wasn't hunted." I pointed out to him, trying to process the information he was giving me. "I was abandoned by my parents and locked in a basement."

"Yes," He agreed, giving me a scrutinising look. "And that would be the real mystery, wouldn't it?"

I sighed in frustration. "I never did anything wrong." I insisted, pointedly ignoring the memory of John. "How could they judge me like that?"

"I've never approved of it." He said with a look of disdain. "But I do agree that there is something unusual about you and the other children like you. It could very well be something supernatural."

I lifted my hands in front of me, studying them with dismay. They did everything they did to me because of how I looked? And yet, something had to be different about me. What I did to John was proof of that.

"What am I?" I finally managed to whisper.

"I cannot answer that." He said. I sighed. "But I do know that people believe that you are powerful, both as an enemy and ally."

It took a few moments for his words to sink in. When they did, my head shot up, panic flaring in my chest. "What do you mean?"

"People are looking for you." He said. "They will take you things, your loved ones, all in an effort to control you. There is a war going on, my dear. Hidden beneath the mainstream of society. A battle for control between the churches. And for all they know, you could be the key to success, or defeat."

My mind just wasn't working today. I didn't quite process what he was saying, at first. It was just too ludicrous, too far-fetched. If I was such a key player, than why was I locked in a basement for so long? But then the rest of his statement sunk in, and I found all questions being driven out of my mind.

Your loved ones, he had said. They will take your loved ones.


I shot up from the chair, earning me a look of shock from the professor. I didn't care. I doubted anyone outside of the Moon family would know who I was and my relationship with Austin, but I couldn't trust my parents to keep quiet. They gave me up, after all. Who's to say they wouldn't do it again?

I should leave. I should move to Alaska and hide someplace remote, where I would never be found. But if I did that, than Austin would be vulnerable. I'd be leaving him undefended against a ruthless society he knew next to nothing about. Of course, going to him could be even more dangerous for him, but I couldn't leave him undefended. I had to protect him, and by the gods, if I had any sort of supernatural power, I would sink it all into defending my brother.

I darted to the door, and my hand was on the doorknob when I heard the professor ask "Where are you going?"

I smiled fleetingly at him, and turned back to the door, opening it. I gave him a small answer as I left the room.

"I'm going home."

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Goodnight and until next time!