Like all great stories, they have a hero, or in this case, the heroine becomes abandoned at an early age only to be found by whoever stumbles upon them and raises them as their own. Meet baby Aine, found swaddled in a fluffy white blanket in the middle of many large circles of stones by some gypsies.

The forever mysterious nomads raised Aine as one of their own and soon understood that the fates had given them a gift. You see, pretty little Aine wasn't like ordinary girls. She had an ability that made her stand out. The girl was a walking muse with one touch of her finger. She could help a writer create a masterpiece and gain great wealth. Once Aine physically touched the person, the power would leave her body and go into the rs. It would leave her dangerously drained and unable to m ve. Once the abilities had done what it set out to do, it would then go back to its mistress, and the cycle would start again.

Aine's Parents knew this was a dangerous power and must be protected, so they did with the help of the other gypsies by helping her harness this gift. She learned to be careful who she helped with her magic, and in time her adopted family grew prosperous. Little Aine grew into a handsome woman, and it was growing harder and harder for her family to protect her.

A warm summer's night, Aine found herself in a familiar spot, a small glen surrounded by trees on the outskirts of the village where her family camped. She was waiting for the person she willing gave her heart too; unfortunately, the captain of the guards, Alaric Flynn, was in charge of arresting her people due to the Lord's orders. Alaric went against this and persuaded his Lord to allow her family outside the village. The Lord agreed, Alaric fell for Aine the moment his eyes met hers, and they would meet in secret.

This night was different. You see, unknown to the couple, another dearly loved Aine and jealousy grew. It was the fortune-teller's son Callan. The fortune-teller told her son to beware of such feelings, and it would be his downfall and to find someone else, but of course, the heart wants what it wants, and he didn't listen.

Callan followed Aine and Alaric to their secret hiding spot and confronted them. Harsh words twisted between both men, and soon a fight would ensue; unfortunately, the war would end with Aine dead upon the ground. She had tried to stop the battle only to have Callan accidentally impale her through the belly with his sword. Callan fled into the night.

As she lay dying in Alaric's arms, she reached up and touched his bare cheek and then swiftly left this world. A bloodied handprint remained on his flesh. Alaric watched as her family cremated his beloved and said his last goodbyes. A year passed. Alaric was no longer the man Aine had known him, he had allowed pain and sorrow to overwhelm him, and finally, he decided he couldn't live in a world without Aine.

He sought out a powerful mage, one who had abilities like no other and could bring the dead back, so many rumored. After many failed attempts, Alaric found the Mage he needed. The Mage gave Alaric a choice. He could walk away and allow time to mend his wound or sacrifice something precious to him. The Mage explained that for Aine to come back, Alaric must surrender his body, and he would take her place in the afterlife.

Alaric understood the consequences, and a life without Alaric was no life, and she deserved to live, so he made the bargain. The Mage and Alaric went back to the spot where Aine had passed and proceeded with the ritual, and it worked. Alaric felt himself leave his body and stand back as his form transformed into Aine's, and her soul entered the empty shell.

Alaric's smile faded as he could tell something was wrong. The Mage had forgotten to tell Alaric that there was more to pay than his own life. It isn't brilliant to alter nature's laws and, in doing so, a heavy price must be paid. Aine had lost her memory, and her beautiful ability was a twisted version of its former self.

Alaric sank into the depths of despair afterlife, not knowing how to fix it. A year later, Aine being twenty, still has no memory of the past nor what ritual had brought her to this state. She wonders, searching for answers and perhaps finding those she can call friends and or allies.