Past and Present

Sophia made her way along the garden path, breathing in the cool November air. Though, she often came here with Collin, the little boy had been left at home for the day. The woman wasn't entirely sure why. It wouldn't have been more than twenty minutes before the child woke from his nap, and the fresh air would have been good for him. Nonetheless, Sophia left him under the watchful care of Pan and took the day's walk alone.

November. It had six months, and she still couldn't recall more than a few scant glimpse of the past six years. Asric was patient, but Sophia could tell how her lack of memories wore on him. She had no doubt that he loved her, she had feelings for him as well - she just couldn't remember why or how that had come to be.

With a sigh, Sophia glanced up at the sky. Everyday, she wished she could recall the past. As the hairs along the back of her neck suddenly stood on end, however, the Seer abruptly realized that the present was of far great concern at the moment.

Skirts were not meant for windy autumn days, Azazel had discovered as he strolled in the gardens. Strange heels dug into the damp ground as he walked. For a moment, the man imagined how strange he would look in his own body, not under the affects of a polyjuice potion. And, when this thought struck him, it was not his own smirk that he felt, but the osfter pull of Iva Popov's grin.

It was a perfect plan: be Popov's daughter and frame the Popov family for the kidnappings. It was just enough to keep his own family safe until the time came around. Grabbing a lock of the girl's hair was the only trouble, but, of course, a quick memory clearing took that hassle away.

Now, as the strong head of the Mob wore the skin of the fragile girl, he doubted the girl ever looked more defenseless. Shirt torn and tugged down to her chest, white skirt grass stained and ripped, hair covered in mud, and pale skin bruised and bloodied: a perfect act. Even though the bruises were faked (another illusion), they helped complete the scene of a teen distressed.

As he heard the teacher draw near, Azazel pulled out his wand and widened his now blue eyes in terror. Knees shaking and breath jagged, the girl's body let out a sob. "Prof-fessor...?"

Usually, Sophia was fairly well attuned to her instincts in various situation. It would be unusual for a woman with her gifts not to be. The present was no exception - she could easily sense that something was horribly wrong with the situation.

Unfortunately, she was paying more attention to the feedback given by her eyes than her feelings.

"Miss Popov?" Sophia hurried to the girl's side, a hand reaching out to aid her. "Merlin, lassie, who did this tae ye?" She turned her attention from the child, gaze seeking for someone to send for help.

If only she had not misinterpreted the reason why the hair at the back of her neck was standing on end.

Azazel reached towards the succor, wand quivering in the air. At first, the girl's face was filled with relief, but, as the teacher grew closer, lips pursed in horror shifted into a soft smirk.

"Sectumsempra,"

With a flash of light caused by the spell, Azazel- now Iva- has changed demeanor. Now almost prideful and cocky, the girl watched the affects of the spell take place. "I thought a Seer would be harder to kidnap," Russian accent gone, she let out a sigh, "Oh well. "

Sophia's Gift had seldom ever been focused on herself. Society, in general, and family she saw frequently in her dreams and visions, when she had them, but Sophia herself rarely made an appearance. Furthermore, she had been Blind since she had waken from her accident back in May.

Though, perhaps not entirely. She had left Collin at home that day.

A pained cry escaped her lips as the spell struck home, gashes tearing into her side and dripping blood onto the ground. Sophia turned back to the girl in surprise, scrambling unsteadily to her feet. "Ye... ye arenae... Miss Popov," she gasped out.

Turning, Sophia attempted to run, though even she knew it was futile. She was losing blood far too quickly. In fact, at the rate she was bleeding out, she could die.

Sophia regretted that she never did recall those six years of her life, loving Asric... What of wee Collin?

Falling to the ground, Sophia let out a regretful sob, a single tear streaming down her face.

"Sorry, Ric..." she whispered softly. Then all was blackness.