It was a dark day when they met….

He was alone, everything behind him….

She was alone, everything ahead of her….

His past had been wiped from all records and he had assumed the name Phoenix, born from the ashes of his past.

She had no past; therefore she had no name.

He walked along a path no one knew.

She walked along a path only he knew.

He slipped.

She ran over to help.

Their eyes met.

Thunder struck the sky.

A spark between them.

A silent clash of fate…

Of destiny.

They just sat there, paralyzed.

Rain poured down…

And they sat there.

They knew nothing of destiny.

She knew nothing of the world.

He knew nothing about her.

Phoenix's Perspective

It was raining the night I left Toby Corlin behind. I had contacted a friend of mine who made thousands in false Ids, and he took the name Phoenix Von Lighton and every trace of it off of face of the world, except for who knew their memories and me. So anyway, I slipped on a puddle (real smooth, I know), and some strange girl rushed over to help me. My meager belongings were all wet, including my gun. Oh well, I had some cash in my pocket and was going to buy new stuff anyway. It was odd and out of place; no one cared for anyone in this town.

"Thanks," I said in a low tone, as if to try and not let her hear. I didn't succeed.

"No problem," she said; she had a pure voice.

"You're not from around here, are you?" I asked.

"No," she answered. Her voice suddenly got quiet. "How did you know?"

"Let's just say people around her are somewhat paranoid."

"What about you? You don't seem paranoid at all," She asked. I looked up and our eyes met. She seemed genuinely curious.

I broke eye contact and quickly got up. "It's a long story," I turned to leave, "and I've got a long way to travel."

She sat there, mystified. "Where are you going?"

"Far away." A simple clean cut answer.

"So am I," She responded, a bit more cheerily. Seeing the look on my face she decided that it was time to leave.

I tossed a thought over in my mind. 'She could be a spy.' It was a good excuse until the next thought came. 'He made sure that no one could trace me and besides, I could always kill her.' Problem was I didn't like to kill people, it left a bad taste in my mouth. 'Oh well, what's one more added to the count.'

"Hey!" She turned. Now or never. "Do you wanna travel with me?"

"Sure," She responded rather quickly. "but where are you going?"

Same question. Same answer. "Anywhere but here."

"Why?" Not a question I wanted to answer.

I avoided it. "Who are you?"

Her look suddenly got sullen and I barely caught her muttering, "I-I don't know." She shifted uncomfortably. "I don't remember. I can't remember. What about you? Who are you?"

Toby Corlin. Deep down I knew I was the same person, the person who didn't exist anymore. "Phoenix Lighton." I'm not sure she believed me because I had hesitated. The next thought made me laugh. "What am I supposed to call you? 'What's her name'?"

She laughed, and the sullen expression and self-pity disappeared. Apparently her demeanor could change at the drop of a hat. "Well, don't just stand there! Help me think of a name!"

Think of a name. Wonders never cease. "How about Olga?" I joked.

"Eww, that reminds me of those evil babysitters in children's stories!"

"So you do remember some stuff."

"The last thing I remember was waking up in a hospital surrounded by children." The sullen expression returned. "Apparently I had been in a coma for over a year. Once I woke up, I would read to little kids to pass the time."

"Oh…" That was all I could say. A year ago was about when I decided to ditch my identity.

"Anyway, let's get back to naming me!"
"You sound like a little kid thinking of a name for her dog, so how about Fluffy?"

"I am not a dog!"

"Lily." The name came out of the blue and I thought it suited the young woman standing in front of me.

"I like it," She declared triumphantly. "but it took you long enough!" She playfully hit my shoulder.

We had just met, but it seemed like she was my little sister.

We were in California and I wanted to go east to the Atlantic Coastline; then get on a plane and go to Europe, maybe England or Scotland. I had enough money in my bag for a trip from LA to England, but this way no one could track my whereabouts.

"I think we should take a train from here, in LA, to San Francisco. Okay?" I asked. I then suggested we lay low for a while.

"Sounds great to me!" She said cheerfully, but then her face became confused. "Lay low? Why?"

"I'd best tell you now then," I said as I took a deep breath, "People may be after me. If I take a plane, they'd track my movements. I'll warn you, you could get hurt—or killed—by traveling with me.

She hesitated for a second then ventured, "Why would people be after you?"

"Not now."


"I don't know," I shrugged.

"I'll travel with you for a bit, then I may leave spontaneously.

"Fair enough."

We walked until we reached a bus stop and entered the shelter. It was nice to be out of the rain for a while, we were already soaking wet. The bus eventually came and we went to the train station. I bought two one-way tickets to San Francisco.

I found two seats and I sat down in one and motioned for Lily to do the same in the other. However, before she sat down a husky man stole her seat. Lily then started swearing—in French. The poor guy didn't know what the hell was going on and I felt bad for him. He got up quickly and scurried away. Lily looked beside herself with surprise.

"You speak French?" I asked incredulously.


"Do you speak any other languages?"

"How the hell would I know?" she asked, temper flaring.

"Well, normally when a person speaks different languages, they know about it." My voice's volume was dropping as I went; I did not want to end up on her bad side.

"I have no memory, I have no idea as to who the heck I am, so how could I know I speak French?" She had grabbed my collar before she finished her rant and was causing a scene.

"Earth to Lily, you're causing a scene." I whistled and she seemed to come back to her sanity.

"Sorry," she said.

'That's odd,' I thought, 'her demeanor totally changed. Sweet kind Lily was replaced by a raging French-speaking beast.'

"Are you okay?" I asked cautiously.

"I think, but I'm not sure. I spaced out and it felt like something else had taken over."

"Well, it's done; don't worry about it." We were quiet the rest of the train ride.

She just nodded slowly for a while and relaxed until we got off of the train then she asked, "What's your past like?"

This was definitely not something I wanted to talk about; I had wanted to leave it behind me, but she didn't have a past and I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell her a little about mine, "I'll tell you what I can…"