She hated that it happened now. They should have been more careful. They had put their daughter at risk. What had they been thinking?

These were the thoughts racing through a newly found mother's head as she stared down at her beautiful newborn child. She knew there was a chance her daughter could be taken away, out of her arms and straight out the door, any minute now.

She had thought having the child around the time would still be safe. She didn't think there would be a chance of the child being born on the day. It seemed impossible. But the child had missed the due date and was born a week later than expected. Instead of being born safe, the child was born on choosing day, exactly 100 years since the last one.

The mother took a gasp of breath as her child's eyes began to flutter open. She clenched the blanket that covered her with her fists in anticipation and worries. Just a look at her eyes would tell them if their daughter would be chosen. It would tell them if their daughter would be safe. As the infant's eyes fully opened and she looked up at her mother, letting out a delightful noise, the mother felt a single drop of a tear, turn into a waterfall of sorrow on her face.

She had it. Her small, happy, innocent child had it in her eyes. Hidden in the child's bright bluebell eyes was a fiery red. They were just faint small little specks of the color. If not looking close enough, one may not even notice. But the poor mother knew that this would not always be the case. The color in the child's eyes would grow darker and darker with age as the child enhanced whatever skill she possessed. The mother sobbed as she hugged her child closer and whispered loving words in her ears. Her husband sat next to her, hugging her close and caressing his little princesses head, crying too and wishing there was something he could do to keep the family that had just barely started together.

The couples heads swiftly shot up as their fragile wood door flung open. Standing in front of them was a man they had only heard of in frequently told childhood stories. He had a long string like, white beard that hung all the way down to his waist. Attached to the beard was a mustache, that for the most part, covered his lips making them close to invisible. On top of his head, he had hair that was the same style and length of his beard. He was slightly hunched backed, due to his old age, but still moved very swiftly.

As he made his way over to the mother, the couple seemed to freeze. As the sorcerer reached down to pick up the child the mother seemed to find her wits and pulled back. The sorcerer shook his head in dismay as he did the thing he had hoped he wouldn't need to do. He whispered a few words and the couple found themselves incapable of moving. The sorcerer continued his task as he reached down and successfully picked up the child, holding her in his arms. The sorcerer once again whispered words, only he could hear and understand. The child in his arms began to glow a brilliant gold and started to rise into the air.

The terror in the parent's eyes was clear as they watched their fragile child float higher and higher into the air. They were afraid that when the child fell, the old man would not catch her. They tried to fight against the invisible force holding them back but everlast, nothing worked. The child began to spin around and a giggle escaped the little girl's mouth. Suddenly, she began falling fast to the hardwood ground. The white-haired man stuck out his hands where the child landed softly and pleasantly, and just giggled as she clenched his beard in her fist. The gold glow she possessed slowly began to fade until it was no longer present. The man then released one of his arms from under her body and raised his hand above her face. The child blinked at the hand in front of her and let out a gurgle of noise. He lowered his hand and traced a symbol across the infants face. He then slowly placed the child back into her mother's hands and nodded to the couple in goodbye and thanks.

As he walked to the center of the room he made eye contact with each parent and spoke, "I am aware that you are confused and afraid of what you have just witnessed. What, and all, I will and can tell you is that I meant you, and your daughter no harm. I have helped your child in more ways than you can comprehend, and I wish you all the best of luck in your futures to come." He lowered his head and there was a bright flash that filled the small village cottage. Images flashed through the family of three's head. Images that seemed like memories, but hadn't happened. Memories of their dear daughter growing up. Something that the parents knew they wouldn't get to experience.

When they opened their eyes, the man was gone. Their house was in the same condition it was in before the man had come, including the now shut door.

The parents found themselves able to move once more and embraced each other and their child.

Suddenly, in a deja vu type of moment, the fragile wood door was once again jerked open. This time a small crack forming in the middle of the door.

This time standing in front of them was not a magical man, but just a tall one who looked to be about the age of 30. Next to him stood a royal guard. Dread instantly filled the couple as they realized what was happening. So soon. Too soon.

The man came over and opened his hands for the child to be placed into. The woman looked up at him and had a sudden thought of saying no, to not hand over her innocent angel. But she knew she had no choice. She held her breath as she lifted her arms and gently lied her child in the stranger's arms.

"Thank you, ma'am and sir, for not fighting this very important tradition," the man began with a slight accent, "I will be the one to raise your child in the king's luxurious castle. I will teach her and train her to be a very important person in the kingdom. Your child has been blessed with a gift few obtain."

And with that, the man turned and began making his way to the door.

"Wait!", the mother called out, finally having the courage to use her voice, "We haven't even named her." She pleaded with the man with her eyes to at least let them have the honors of naming their child.

"No worries ma'am, that isn't necessary. She was already named by the court before she was even born," he fully made his way out of the door before turning around, "her name is Evanna."

And then the door was slammed shut.

havana oo na na...hahaha that's what I think of whenever I read or write the name Evanna.

I hope you enjoyed the prologue, make sure to vote and/or comment.

Happy reading!

xoxo

Sara