All of a sudden I snapped back to the present. I really had to do something about all of these black outs. If I didn't, there was no way on Earth I could manage to pass my classes. As it was, I had already missed half the lecture. Hopefully I could find someone with notes I could borrow.

Somehow I managed to make it through the rest of my swordsmanship class without missing anything too important. Thankfully today I had study hall as my final class. Not that many people ever did any studying. For the most part it was the class people took to fill up their schedules because they didn't really want to be at school. On any given day a typical study hall contained several disgusting make-out sessions, a few immature spit wad throwers, and countless people on phones. Not that the teacher really cared. Well, maybe cared, just given up as hopeless. She could most often be found in the teacher's lounge bemoaning her fate over an iced white chocolate latte, while her class did whatever.

Study hall was perfect for me today. I could space out without missing anything. I dropped my stuff next to a seat as far away as I could get from the worst of the PDAs. Almost as soon as I sat, my mind went back to the flashback in swordsmanship. It had been so vivid that I could almost smell my grandma's perfume. That special blend of rose and lavender that could envelop me in its folds and make me feel so safe that nothing could ever get to me. What could have possibly triggered that specific memory? After all, Grandma had been dead for nearly a year, and I was now a 16 year old young lady according to my mother.

No matter how hard I tried, the memory refused to leave. Her final words seemed to be haunting me. What could she have meant when she said "Destiny is not something easily escaped"? I doubted if I would ever know. Grandma had always had a mysterious streak, and now that she was gone I couldn't ask her. However, there was something else about the memory bothering me. The necklace that she had been wearing. After that day, I don't remember seeing it again. What had happened to it? I began to wonder, and remember.

"Hayley," called my grandma in a faint whispery voice. I was so worried about her, but I tried to hide it. She looked so fragile lying there under the covers in her big bed. It was as if I could see the flame of life within her flickering weakly, like a candle in the wind.

"Yes, Grandma," I said, going to her side. "Is there anything I can get you? A glass of water or something?"

"No," she whispered. " Come sit over here," she added while patting the bed next to her. There was a faint twinkle in her blue-grey eyes, but also a look of great sadness. As I pulled up a chair her body was wracked with coughs. The dry, rattling coughs that came from somewhere deep within her body.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something to drink?" I asked, a concerned frown marring my brow.

"No, no. I'm fine, really," she said, holding up a hand to keep me in my seat. " I want to tell you something. Something very, very important. You must promise me that you will never forget what I tell you today."

"Don't worry Grandma. I promise not to forget," I said taking her hand in mine. It was cold and weathered by time.

"You have to know," she replied, almost as if in a trance. "I have to tell you what happened long before I ever met your grandpa." Her eyes started to look glassy as if she was about to start crying.

"Please Grandma," I interrupted. "You don't have to tell me. It doesn't matter what happened before."

"Oh, but it does," she said, squeezing my hand in reassurance. "It matters very much. I want to tell you. I need to tell you. You have the right to know, and I should have told you a long time ago. It all happened so long ago. When I was about your age..." Her voice began to take on the sing-song story tone that it often did.

"His name was Kaden. The details of how we met are irrelevant at this time. Needless to say, we did meet. I was sixteen, and he was nineteen. We had a mission, and it had to be accomplished at all costs. We spent years traveling together, and because of all the time spent together, we came to know one another nearly as well as we knew ourselves. It was as if we were two halves of a whole. We belonged together.

Author's note: This is not the whole chapter. I am just trying to get everything that I have written out typed up, so that I am not overwhelmed with it all. However, chapter one is now finished. I hope you enjoy it. I welcome all reviews critical or not. I really would like to improve my writig as much as possible. Also, I will return the favor and review your work.