Okay, Hi!
I was told that my chapters were too long so I made the fourth chapter in two parts, if that's better. Please comment, I hope it will clear up a few misunderstandings for those of you who were confused. Thanks again for the constructive reviews!!
Tanya 
Chapter 4
Rhee hadn’t moved from her seated position on the floor. Head bowed, her favourite doll clutched to her chest, her shoulders wracked with silent sobs. Meghan watched Rhee, painfully aware of being unable to comfort her daughter. She had agreed with her husband’s decision to avoid letting Rhee in on the conversation of his death, but now she wondered if it was the best decision. At least her siblings had had time to come to grips with the upcoming loss of their father. Rhee’s anguish was both for the loss of her father and because she hadn’t been given the chance to say goodbye. Orion had loved all his children but Rhee had been his very special girl. Daddy’s little girl. They should have understood that she was smart enough to comprehend the concept of death and that Daddy was now in a better place. Having underestimated her, she was now grieving alone.
Heart broken, Meghan stooped to retrieve her daughter and cradled her against her breast.
“It’s okay baby,” Meghan whispered soothingly, “let it all out, just cry, you will feel better afterwards.” She kissed her daughter gently on the forehead, her cheeks, kissing and holding her until, finally, Rhee fell into an exhausted sleep in her mother’s arms. Even in sleep, silent tears traced down the little girl’s cheek. Meghan raised weary eyes to the Heavens, praying to the Gods for relief for her daughter’s pain, unaware it was the Gods who had caused the grief.
* * *
Sitting at Drake’s huge dining room table with a hot mug of coffee warming her hands, Aya finally felt herself relax. Her questions would finally be answered, tonight.
“I don’t know which memories you have of our father,” Drake began, “but I assume you know of the prophecy?”
“Which prophecy? The one about his descendant?” Aya asked
“Yes, that one.” Morgana answered.
“What prophecy?” Tristan frowned.
“You know what they say about assuming, Drake,” said Bart, “you make an ass-out-of-you-and-me . . . ing.” Bart laughed so hard tears streamed down his face. Drake cut him a look.
“How could you not know about the prophecy?” Rosalina snapped. “It was passed down from generation to generation from parent to infant from the moment Rhee gave birth . . .”
“Maybe because,” Tristan cut in, “I was abandoned by my parents as an infant and whoever was suppose to pass down this prophecy failed miserably,” he finished his voice hard.
He glared at Rosalina, his face chiselled in stone; hard, unforgiving. She was equally glaring at him; she seemed angry that he didn’t know about the prophecy. Aya stared at them both. She knew Tristan wouldn’t back down first. Finally, Rosalina turned her eyes away and Tristan looked down at the table. He was flexing his fists. Aya was surprised to realise she wanted to link her fingers through Tristan’s to comfort him. She knew, though, he wouldn’t accept the comfort she offered. Instead, she searched for his gaze and when he met hers she gave him a small smile, hoping he’d understand the thought. Aya looked up to find Drake giving Rosalina a hard stare.
“Who is Rhee?”
“Our little sister.” Rosalina replied bitterly.
What is her problem? Aya wondered as she stared at the blonde woman.
“The prophecy goes,” Morgana’s soft voice filled the room, easing the tension, “that for several centuries a war will wage between the clans and the Gods. Only a descendant of Orion’s last child will be able to bring an end to the war because he or she will have inherited all of Orion’s tremendous powers. He was, after all, the God of creation.”
“So which one of you is the last child?” Tristan asked. “I mean, I know you’re quadruplets but who was born last?
“I am the last born of the quadruplets” A deep voice answered and all eyes turned to Bart. “But the child of the prophecy spoke of our little sister Henrietta. Rhee.”
“So, who are the clans? What are the clans?” Aya asked.
“We are,” Drake said. “I’m head of the Vampire clan, Rosalina of the Angel clan, Morgana, the Witches and Bart, the Werewolves.”
“Whoa!” Aya said.
“No way!” Tristan growled. “That can’t be. Impossible!”
“I believe them.” Aya said and she turned to Tristan.
He studied her. “Why?”
“I . . . I dreamt of Drake . . . he was . . . well . . . The night I met you. I had dreamt of him biting someone. That’s how . . . how I knew.” Why did she feel so uncertain of herself? Why did she feel she must justify herself to Tristan? She was just explaining what she saw, what she knew. A thought occurred to her. “Wait a minute, is that why I’ve dreamt of Orion my whole life? Because of this prophecy?”
“If you are the descendant, it stands to reason he would have transmitted his memories to you.”
“But I’ve dreamt of him too, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“We think there’re actually two descendants.” Drake watched them for their reactions. They weren’t long in coming.
“No way! The prophecy never mentioned two!”
“But it makes sense, doesn’t it? You’ve dreamt of one another your whole lives and of Orion also.”
“Here we go with the dreams again. Care to explain?” Tristan cocked a brow.
Drake sighed. “We felt Aya’s birth some twenty something years ago . . .
“Twenty-one years, five months, three days, two hours and fifty-five seconds ago, to be precise.” Bart grinned. “But who’s counting?”
“Get a life, little brother.” Rosalina glared.
“Who are you calling ‘little’, tiny?”
Rosalina growled so menacingly Aya actually leaned back in her chair, away from the Angel. Bart looked unafraid; he winked at her.
Drake simply stared at them with a mixture of amusement and frustration. This kind of argument seemed habitual for him. “As I said, we felt her birth and we cheered, happy to have found our descendant. A few months ago, we felt you, suddenly, Tristan.
Tristan nodded, distracted. He raised his eyes to Bart. “When exactly did you feel her birth?”
Bart repeated, puzzled by Tristan’s question. Tristan turned his head sharply to Aya. “Your birthday is December 25th? You’re a Christmas baby?”
“Well, yeah. What’s it to you?”
“So am I.” He murmured as he stared at her.
“And it was this past Christmas that we felt you, Tristan.” Morgana informed them.
“But what does it all mean?” Aya looked around the table, searching for an answer.
“The way we see it; you two are irrevocably connected. The dreams, the memories, the birthmarks and now the shared birth date, everything makes sense!”
“Coincidence.” Tristan spat the word.
“Karma.” Morgana said softly.
It was obvious Aya believed it was Karma. It was there in her eyes. Tristan pulled his gaze away from hers. He knew what her eyes were trying to convey: that he hadn’t believed in her and she had turned out real and that maybe she and he were meant to believe in each other.
Uncomfortable with the discussion, wanting to change the subject, Tristan cocked a brow. “So what is it exactly that you four expect of us?” Unexpected silence met his question. “Anyone care to answer?”
The siblings glanced at one another then once again, Drake, who seemed to be the leader, spoke, “We do not expect anything from you but we hope you will help us.”
“It would be nice to know what you need help with.” Tristan stated. Aya leaned forward in anticipation.
Bart took over the conversation. “For as long as we can remember, since our father’s death, we have fought Gods. We have no idea why they began attacking us and attacking Rhee but we have not known a quiet period in centuries.”
“This is where you two come in.” Morgana continued. “The prophecy says that you two will help us stop the war and bring peace back to our clans.”
“But how?” Aya spoke up.
“By training you to fight and to use your magic.” Rosalina said gruffly.
“Our magic.” Aya snorted. “It won’t be much use to you, it only reacts when one of us is in danger. So unless you plan on baiting one of us to the Gods . . .” She shot them a look. “You won’t, right?”
“No.” Drake chuckled. “That isn’t the plan but we do plan on spending every available hour with you, training and practicing.”
“My question is: why would we help you?”
Four sets of eyes locked on his face. Morgana’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. Rosalina was grinding her teeth while her eyes flashed furiously and Bart simply stared at him with an amused expression on his face. Tristan could feel Drake study him and he turned to the Vampire, holding his gaze. Anything to avoid confronting Aya who he felt was searching his face. He released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding when he noticed her turn to the quadruplets and say, “Tristan’s right, why would we help you? I mean, I’m all for helping a good cause, but is this a good one? All we have is your word that the Gods have been trying to kill you, we have no proof. We do not know you or them and we do not trust you. Who says that they aren’t the good guys and you four are setting us up?”
Tristan turned to Aya. She was siding with him! He couldn’t believe it, he had thought he’d face all five of them alone.
“They tried to kill you!” Rosalina’s voice was sharp.
Aya slowly shook her head from side to side. “Not really, no. The facts are that I actually dreamt of Drake killing an innocent. Then I dreamt of Drake meeting Tristan and getting attacked and that’s woke up and ran to them and subsequently saved their lives. But I have no proof that the God was after Tristan or Drake. Maybe the man had a vision of what would happen to him was trying to get to him during a moment of distraction.”
“But he attacked you afterwards!” Rosalina slammed her small fist on the table.
“Wouldn’t you? He perceived me as a threat and he had to eliminate the threat.”
Tristan felt his hands close into tight fists at the indifferent way Aya spoke of ‘eliminating the threat’. It was her life she was talking about! He mentally shook himself wondering why he reacting this way. Frightened by his reactions to her words, he forced himself to continue listening.
“As far as I’m concerned, you four are as much a threat to us as the Gods. Even more so because you know far more about us than they seem to.”
“But Loki . . .” Morgana’s voice trailed off.
“Loki, what? He attacked while Drake went to get Aya. It might have been Drake he was targeting and Aya was at the wrong place at the wrong time.” The look in Aya’s eyes as she glanced at him said, “Took you enough time to come back in the conversation you started yourself.” He bit back a smile, she was right, after all.
“So, where does that leave us?” Bart interjected. “You don’t trust us and you don’t trust the Gods. If I’m not mistaken, you don’t even trust each other. We need you but you don’t need us. True? Only . . .”
Drake picked up where Bart left off. “Only, whether or not you can trust us isn’t really the issue or not, neither is the question of whether the Gods were attacking me or you. No, the problem is that they now know of your existence and it stands to reason that they will try to get to you. Unlike us, they will not try to get to you through dreams and other harmless avenues. They will appear, demand that you follow them and if you do not cooperate they will snatch you or one of your loved ones away.”
“Well, I’ve never been so grateful to have no one in my life of any importance.” There was a hint of arrogance in his voice that was quickly washed away at Drake’s next words.
“You may not, but Aya does. Aya? Is there anyone else but your parents the Gods could get to, someone who means much to you?” Drake’s voice was soft as he studied her pale features.
“I . . . My grand-parents . . . They are all dead, but besides my parents there’s . . .” Her eyes widened. “Becky! My best friend Becky!”
“Listen.” Drake’s voice was quiet but forceful. “You do not know us, do not trust us, which is understandable. We’ve watched over you both and therefore, we feel like we know you and we can trust you. But you two are going to have to decide which of us you feel is the lesser of two evils. First let me explain a thing or two to you. The Gods are old, very old and very powerful. They were created by Orion to serve humans in different functions. The sun and moon rise and set for the humans but by the Gods. The grass grows and the wind blows and the rain falls because of the Gods. Some Gods were created specifically to care for the earth, others only the humans. A group of Gods were created and my father called them the Mind Gods. Their job was to keep humans evolving constantly and to keep them sane and generally healthy.”
“Doctor Gods?” Aya cut in, puzzled.
“Not quite. They prevented world-wide spread and diseases that could kill entire populations but they did not heal people individually. If a plague were to spread, they would plant the antidote’s formula in a specific person who would ‘discover’ it and release it, saving the world. They are also behind the greatest inventors in time, the greatest minds. The world needed human heroes and they were the minds behind them. Even brilliant minds like Hitler and Napoleon.”
“So, what happened with the Gods? Obviously they’re still alive because we’ve fought two, but why is the world in such chaos?”
Morgana, who finally found her voice again said, “We don’t know for sure because we’ve never been in friendly terms with them, but it seems that everything went downhill after our father’s death. Either they weren’t motivated to work for their creator anymore or because they were being influenced by another entity with bad intentions, we don’t know. What we do know is that at some point, they stopped helping the humans out and left to themselves, after being guided their whole lives, they threw the world in the state you now know.”
“I still don’t get the point. You want us to repair what’s been done? We’ve never known it any other way, what’s it to us?”
Tristan could almost hear Rosalina grinding her teeth at his question. “Maybe it means nothing to you but your girlfriend here might think differently.” She locked eyes with Aya. “Maybe you didn’t fully understand what my brother was saying about the Minds Gods so let me be more specific: they have control over minds, human minds. If you do not learn to block yours, they could use you to kill us all. Seeing how you don’t know us, maybe you don’t care whether they use you to kill us. But keep this in mind: they could control you and force you to kill your parents and your friend Becky and her parents. They could force you to bear helpless witness while your own hand raises a hand and slashes down in . . .” As Rosalina spoke, vivid images flashed in both Aya and Tristan’s brain: a knife, blade glinting in the pale moonlight, the knife slashing down, a cut-off scream, the metallic smell of blood permeating the air . . .
“Stop it!” Aya cried out, taking her head in her hands.
“Rosalina!”
“Enough!” Tristan growled at the same time as Aya and Drake cried out. “Can’t you see you’ve gotten your point through?” As he took notice of Rosalina’s satisfied expression, he realised she had sent those images to Aya and his mind had –for obvious purposes- linked with hers. It had apparently sense the danger before he had.
Pink, Jayleigh, as usual: Thanks for the great review!
And Karsten, wow! Can I hire you? lol
I'm going to pull back witht the Descendants for some time to work on it more in depth, but in the meantime I've posted a new chapter to another story intitled, Lady Death. Please review. Thanks,
Tanya
topic56149.html
Tanya!
Okay, excuse for why I'm way late one this. I got your pm and read this already, but then later when I came back for your review, it said this didn't exist anymore. My apologies. So here I am, watching the Flintstones on my right, a poptart on my left ready to review.
I was told that my chapters were too long so I made the fourth chapter in two parts
Okay on to the real review.* * *
Her questions would finally be answered, tonight.
“Yes, that one.” Morgana answered.
. . . ing.”
I so get it now ] XDShe knew Tristan wouldn’t back down first.
“So am I.” He murmured as he stared at her.
“So what is it exactly that you four expect of us?” Unexpected silence met his question.
Hi Tanya,
Having read all 15,000 words you’ve posted to date, twice, I think I can explain the rejections you’ve received for this novel. This review may sting, so please put on your flak jacket. 
Overall, I struggled with this piece. The story relies heavily on familiar fantasy tropes to the point where I felt that the plot was becoming predictable. The characterisation is rocky in places. Scenes change too rapidly, and with too many unsignalled point-of-view changes, to allow me to really engage as a reader. And I kept stumbling over technical errors -- tense changes, punctuation errors and so on. The good news is that I think you can improve this a whole lot, and I hope to help you with that.
The opening
Starting in the right place is key to a good opening, and I’m wondering if yours might start a little too late. It starts after the father’s death and after the teleportation, and so you have to double back several times to fill in essential information with flashbacks and recaps. The fact that you can’t get through 200 words without having to recap what happened before the first sentence is signalling to me that you started too early. You skipped over a dramatic and compelling scene and instead began with the protagonist standing around feeling confused. And the impact of dramatic events like the father’s death and the teleportation are lessened by retelling them as flashbacks.
So I wonder if you might find it more helpful to back up a step and start at the point that the father falls suddenly and dramatically ill. Show his sudden illness, his prophecy, his death, and the disappearance. Put the cause and effect in logical order. The story is more unpredictable, and I hope more compelling, when told in chronological order because we don’t already know the outcome. And it allows you to establish the protagonist’s emotional state and show how each event affects her emotionally.
I’m hoping that showing the story in chronological order might also lessen some of the confusion I’m feeling. I have to admit that after reading the entire 15,000-word piece several times, I still don’t understand two key elements:
Why Rhee’s father walks into a room healthy and a minute later is flat out on his deathbed.
Why Rhee disappears after her father’s death and reappears somewhere else. Is it teleportation or something else? Does somebody else do it, or is it her? Why does it happen? Why do her family reappear around her? Why does nobody ever bring it up again?
Four-year-old’s viewpoint
When I first read the opening scene in Rhee’s viewpoint I thought that she didn’t sound at all like a four-year-old, and the other scenes of hers I read had the same problem to my eyes. The problem for me is that her language and thought patterns are inconsistent with her age, and you seem to be trying to make up for that by constantly emphasising how young she is.
Rhee seems to use formal language, with advanced vocabulary like “contour” and “silhouette”. She thinks of her mother as “Meghan”, even though her father is “Daddy”. She perceives a strange place as an “unfamiliar setting”, and wants to "confirm the place was uninhabited", and thinks about being someone’s “sole concern”. In the chapter three opening scene she seems to be worrying about the political implications of a vampire, an angel, a werewolf and a witch being forced to work together, and suggests that “this ... could be interesting”. None of this sounds like a four-year-old to me.
At the same time, Rhee continually thinks of herself as a “little girl”. Her hand is “small”. Her eyes are “very young”. She squares her “young shoulders”. It reads like you’re trying to remind the reader over and over that Rhee really is a four-year-old. I can see why you might feel the need to remind us, because it’s definitely not obvious to me from her viewpoint, but I do think that this method of creating a convincing four-year-old’s viewpoint isn’t working too well.
If you could make Rhee feel and sound like a four-year-old, you wouldn’t need to emphasise how “very young” and “small” she is all the time.
Scenes, point of view and changes thereof
A key part of my engagement with the story as a reader is coming to like and sympathise with the viewpoint characters. What that needs is depth of viewpoint. It’s not enough for the reader to be present in the scene with the viewpoint character. We also need to be inside their head, experiencing their perceptions, seeing their thoughts, knowing their feelings. The whole narrative should be vividly coloured by their assumptions and beliefs. The same stranger might be perceived as a “Latino female” by a police officer, a “pretty woman” by somebody else, or a “hot chick” by a teenage boy, and the way your viewpoint character thinks of that person should tell us everything about the viewpoint character. The narrative needs to tell us through word choice and choice of details who the viewpoint character is, what they notice, what they believe and think and value.
What I’m seeing here is a succession of short, shallow scenes in which we learn basic details about the viewpoint character but nothing more personal. Then before we’ve had a chance to engage emotionally with the character, we’re ripped out of that viewpoint and jammed into another. The reader can only try to engage with a character so many times before they get disillusioned -- they feel like they’re never going to stay with a character for more than 500 words at a time, so there’s no point in even trying to engage with them.
In the first chapter you have a 550-word Rhee scene, then a 450-word Aya scene (not counting the news reports and dream which tell us absolutely nothing about her) and then a 350-word Tristan scene. These are tiny, tiny snippets of scenes, not enough space to engage the reader. You can’t create plot, tension and drama in so few words while also providing characterisation and depth of viewpoint.
Take more time and try to show us whatever is unusual and compelling about these characters. Is there something more to Aya than moping around and having weird dreams? Compassion for other people’s hurt is a stereotypical female character trait. What traits does she have that she doesn’t share with a million other female characters? Tristan is obsessed with the parents who abandoned him. Does he experience any emotions less generic than curiosity? Does he resent his parents? Hate them? Want to extort money from them? What does he do with his life other than obsess about the parents who abandoned him?
This shallow viewpoint and rapid scene-changing problem is compounded for me by a problem that occurs later -- poor signalling of point-of-view changes. When your scenes are very shallow (we’re being shown actions and dialogue, but not the inner thoughts, feelings and perceptions of the viewpoint character) and you change viewpoint without telling us, it’s hopelessly confusing. I end up quickly losing track of what viewpoint I’m supposed to be in, and because you don’t give us any of the viewpoint character’s internal feelings, there’s no way for me to tell.
Ultimately, I feel unsatisfied by how little we get to truly see inside the characters. I feel like we need longer, more developed scenes from the viewpoint of more strongly-drawn characters.
Cliches
As I got further into the story, I found that more and more elements of the story were already familiar to me from other works.
The long-prophesied hero(es) fulfilling their destiny is a pretty tired trope. A lot of Hero’s Journey fantasies love the symbolic birthmark. Then there are the two characters communicating in their dreams, exactly like the Wheel of Time, for example. Or the meaningful dreams which show how special the protagonist(s) is/are. And the magical war has been done a hundred times. So far I haven’t seen anything about your vampires, angels, werewolves or witches to mark them out from the stacks of other novels about those supernatural creatures, which are very popular at the moment.
Borrowing familiar elements from other stories is not necessarily a deal-killer, as long as you put your own unique twist on it. The problem is that I’m seeing an awful lot of familiar elements and not a lot of twist. Can you write down in like 2-3 sentences what makes your story unique and compelling? I think if you could do that, you might be able to look over your story and double-check that you’ve brought out that unique and compelling angle. If you can’t, then you know that now is the time to do that.
Magic
I also had a few problems with the magic.
Firstly, I felt like I recognised people shooting beams out of their hands from video games and the elemental magic from just about every fantasy I’ve ever read. When I was reading the magical battles I pictured the battle scenes in Final Fantasy 8 with characters casting spells like Fire or Blizzard. I struggled to get past how overdone the magic system felt to me. You might want to think about bringing out whatever is unique about your magic system more strongly.
Secondly, I’m uncertain about how all the characters seem to discover convenient new powers at the exact right moment, which they can control without any problems at all. Aya and Tristan both use magic for the first time during a fight scene, without as much as a hesitation to figure out what they’re doing. Later Aya somehow spontaneously figures out how to mind-read someone. There are never any consequences of this. Nobody struggles to figure out how to use the magic. Nobody is ever afraid of the destruction. Nobody fears not being able to control their powers. They never feel weak because the magic has drained their energy, or mistarget and hurt someone because they’re so new, or fail to achieve what they wanted. Everything is just too easy.
What I would like here is a convincing, unique magic system with real drawbacks, and characters who interact with it in believable ways. I just can’t buy that using magic has no consequences, or that people could pick up a new skill for the first time and it’s easy for them, or that nobody ever makes any mistakes no matter how inexperienced they are. I feel like I really need the magic to be messier and more difficult.
Sensory description
At times the piece feels rather threadbare due to the lack of description. I’m wondering if you could involve the five senses more here, because I feel like we need more sights and smells and sounds, more colours, more textures, more perceptions. These sensory details make the scene come alive for the reader, and make us experience more vividly what the character is experiencing. Think about the inside as well as the outside: the stutter of your heart as adrenalin kicks in, the dread that sits like a weight in your stomach, the fear that strokes a finger down your spine.
I think adding more sensory description would make the story more visceral for the reader.
Drake’s family
The whole situation surrounding Drake’s family feels confusing to me. I feel like I need a family tree to follow the situation. I might need to annotate it as well.
There are too many family members here. The quadruplets all serve identical plot purposes: they all have a parental role, protecting and guiding, which makes me wonder why the mother isn’t used here instead of a truckload of siblings. Then there’s Rhee, who for some reason isn’t one of the redundant quadruplets. Is it really necessary to have six different family members here? You really only need two: dead ancestor Rhee, and then her relative Drake (or whoever) who protects and guides her descendants. So I’m making that four unnecessary characters.
In addition, the fact that Rhee’s four siblings are four different types of supernatural creature is unbelievable to me. I’m really struggling to understand how someone who appears to be a normal human could be the sibling to a vampire, a witch, an angel and a werewolf. I guess I could buy that Rhee had a human sibling who was bitten and then became a vampire, but it’s really stretching the bounds of coincidence to believe that Rhee also had another human sibling who was bitten and then became a werewolf, and ... then she had a third sibling who learned witchcraft? And another one who somehow became an angel? Is it even possible for humans to become angels? How did this ever happen?
I really think this situation needs to be simplified. Take an axe to that unnecessarily complicated family tree, and cut it down to something more believable and concise.
I suspect that would help fix another problem I’m seeing: toward the end the story essentially becomes one long exposition session running some 4000 words of pure dialogue. When you have an over-complicated backstory you need an awful lot of words to explain it. But if it was a little more manageable, you wouldn’t need to infodump so much.
Technical errors
You’ve got lots of them. Spelling errors. Dialogue punctuation problems. Tense changes -- I wasn’t surprised to read on your website an excerpt in present tense, because it reads like it was inconsistently converted from present tense, with a lot of present-tense verbs still surviving. Some scenes will be italicised in part but not in whole, like you started to italicise it because it was a flashback, but gave up after the first paragraph. And so on. This needs a careful proofread.
Conclusion
Overall, while I was intrigued by some elements of the premise (such as the idea that the gods have been shaping human history), I felt like the multitude of redundant characters, the rapid scene changes and shallowness of viewpoint with little mental and emotional context, the level of cliches and the increasingly shaky characterisation were interfering with my enjoyment of the story. (I've attached the original piece with line edits to suggest specific examples of these problems.) I think this might be why you’re getting publisher rejections right now.
If I could suggest a few improvements, I’d prioritise deepening and improving the characterisation and emphasising the unique elements of the story over the cliches.
Hope this helped.
Cheers,
Karsten
Hi Tanya, it's me, Pink!
Let's review!
“Yes, that one.” Morgana answered.
“Maybe because,” Tristan cut in, “I was abandoned by my parents as an infant and whoever was suppose to pass down this prophecy failed miserably,” he finished his voice hard.
“Our little sister.” Rosalina replied bitterly.
Uncomfortable with the discussion, wanting to change the subject
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