In the early morning hours before dawn, Olya woke with the terrifying images revealed to her in the deep chamber that housed the great sphere. The being originating from the strange blue planet came to her in a dream, but Olya had more important matters to deal with. Tracking Bloss’ activities became her first priority.

Ten years ago, the day of the great fire, was the event that crushed her world as well as her sister’s. Pike had been so kind to them. Watching over them, teaching them of their great Eternian heritage, but one question he couldn’t answer was who they were, and where they came from. He called them the gifted: Sheeba, the skilled fighter and artist and Olya, the practical scholar with the gift of magic.

The three lived a secluded life in the lighthouse upon the Aerian Sea. The citizens of Poe thought the trio to be a bit eccentric. Sheeba was the most social of the group, which confused her sister. Olya still insisted on hiding her deformed hands. Sheeba always insisted she had beautiful hands, but Olya’s shyness prevented her from showing her true self to strangers.

She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was that was truly troubling her. She traveled down the spiral staircase to see Pike up and about. He was working diligently on an experiment. Watching Pike at his work always astonished her.

“Good morning, Pike,” she said, her voice low.

After the botched fluids exploded, breaking several beakers, Olya felt a pang of guilt.

“Oh, Pike, I’m sorry. Did I disturb you?”

“No, friend Olya,” he said, looking at her. Too much sulfur on my part. I thank for the distraction.” He saw the worried look at her face. “What troubles you, my dear?”

“Nothing,” she said with a sigh, and sat down in an old worn wooden chair. She saw in his face that she was not telling the truth. “Everything,” she continued. “I don’t know. These images, I guess. Just when I think this time the answer will come, it doesn’t.”

“You must have patience,” he said, sitting down next to her. “We do not master our fates all at once. It is a process, friend Olya.”

“But what of Blue Planet?” she asked. “Why do their people suffer so?”