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Bonum diem. My name is Perdita Bennett, and I live in a small village called Glenn Ridge. My father found me in the woods at the age of six, injured and unconscious. He's told me the story countless times, about how I had fallen from heaven and landed among the apple blossoms, covered in blood. I fail to believe it myself, but I can't deny that I am covered with small scars and my shoulder does not move quite as it should.

My dearest confidant, Cica*, is a sprite, or at least from what I can tell. No one else seems able to see her besides me and I find that frustrating indeed. She's wonderful company, and I can always rely on her magic to protect me from harm when I wander the woods at night, but no one else knows that she even exists. Whenever I try to speak of her, the villagers spread whispers of "delirus**" and "alucinatio***" and my friends pull me away.

Patre is a smith and Matre is the village healer, so I have some knowledge in both areas, but my favorite activity is hunting and swordsmanship. The boys have accepted me as one of them rather than shunning me, and we spend many afternoons leaping through trees in hot pursuit of game, and I believe I am quite content to remain this way forever, but there appears to be political unrest stirring among the adults.

I wonder what it could be?

*the name "Cica" (pronounced SEE-kuh) is derived from the Latin word "cicatricem" (pronounced see-kuh-TREE-chehm) meaning scar.

**delirus (pronounced deh-LEE-roos) is Latin for crazy, delirious, or other synonyms

***alucinatio (pronounced ah-LOO-chee-NAH-teeyo) is Latin for delusion or hallucination

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