Joanna raised her eyes from the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, to walk over and inspect her daughter's work. "You did a wonderful job, Pilika. Thank you. Here you are, just as I promised." She reached into her pockets and dropped two one-potch coins into the little girl's outstretched hands, eyes bright as anything.

"Pilika's happy, Mommy."

Joanna shook her head. "Sweetie, it's 'I'm happy'. Go ahead, say it. 'I'm happy, Mommy'."

Pilika hesitated a little uncertainly for a minute, fidgeting, before speaking again. "Oooookay. I'm happy, Mommy."

Her mother smiled. "Good job. You're such a smart little girl. Now go outside and play with the other children. I have to keep working."

It was very sunny outside, and Pilika had to keep covering her eyes with her hands to shield them from the brightness. She wasn't really sure what to do now-- she wasn't allowed to go anywhere far, like the shop, without Mommy or Daddy. Nobody was outside yet, at least none of her friends. She usually got up earlier than the other kids.

She tossed the rubber ball in her hands upward, humming a little tune her daddy had taught her when she was very little. "Cloth and stitches, needle and thread. Toaster and butter and knife and bread."

Despite the sunniness, it wasn't really all that hot outside. The ball fell out of the sky back into her hands again. She flung it into the air. One thing she had learned was that things got very dull very quickly when one was alone with just a ball.

She was reluctant to go back inside though-- she knew her Mommy didn't like her to be in the house when she was cleaning, 'cause she might get in the way. Still, sometimes she let Pilika help out a little bit, and even paid her for it.

Daddy was doing some work in the 'shrine', the place where people had gates locked over the entrance and only opened it once a year. They gave Daddy money to watch over it the rest of the time. Pilika didn't really know what was inside, other than that it was very very important. Whenever she'd asked, everyone always told her she'd find out when she got older. It got very very frustrating.

She looked around once the ball had landed safely back into her grasp again. Not only the kids, nobody was out at all. It was really very strange. There weren't any holidays she was aware of anyway...

"...so that's the story, huh?"

Pilika heard the voice come from near the back of the house, she blinked and dropped the ball as it rolled away on the ground, listening.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right. This village should be the target. That's what Lord Ruka said at least..."

"Start out small, eh."

"Yeah, well, Ruka said if we could cause some internal dischord in the City-State..."

"How would torching some village cause 'internal dischord'?"

"How the hell should I know? It's Ruka's plot. I think it might have something to do with the mercenaries down south though."

"Whatever, man. What about the Matilda Knights?"

"No idea. Gordo hasn't responded yet."

"Figures."

Pilika wasn't really sure what the two unseen men were talking about, but it didn't really sound like a good thing. Forgetting the lost ball entirely, she turned around and ran into the house to alert her mother, while the conversation went on.

"When's the attack?"

"Around a week from now."

"Not giving us much time to get ready, is he?"

"You know what they say. Time flies when you're having fun..."

Joanna had listened to her daughter, but nobody else had. Including Marx, when she sounded the alarm to him.

"Oh, honey. You know Pilika often has dreams she thinks are real. Besides, why would Highland bother to attack some little highway village like us..?"

"But Marx, what if Pilika's right? What if we're going to be attacked?" Joanna demanded, hugging her said daughter. "I think that we should at least get away from the village until we're sure it's not true, even if nobody else listens."

Marx shrugged. "Look, if the Highland Army has any sense of sanity in them, they won't strike the capital first. That's the strongest part of the State, Joanna. They'll likely aim for somewhere like Greenhill or South Window."

"But Marx, they don't have any semblem of sanity. Don't you know who's leading the Highland army? Ruka Bright. Please.."

"I don't see why you're getting so worked up over this..." her husband began, while Pilika slipped away, not wanting to hear her parents argue. She crawled into her bedroom, not really sure what was going on, but not she knew something for certain.

It definetely was not a good thing.

This is where we say goodbye.

She mumbled something in her sleep, trying to get that voice out of her head, where it insisted on staying. It sounded vaguely familiar somehow, but she couldn't really give it a name, other than 'the voice'.

This is probably the last time you'll see me. It's goodbye forever.

She wasn't really sure what the voice was talking about, but she knew she hated goodbyes, especially forever goodbyes. Her Daddy had made her say goodbye forever to her cat, after it had 'died', or gone somewhere very far away.

Altered?

Changed?

Misled?

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

Something's wrong.

She was lost by now. She didn't have any idea what it was babbling on about, but the voice made her listen anyway.

It was different.

It wasn't the same.

Something has gone wrong....