"Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."
I would like to apologize. I've never fully explained anything about my life--just that I'm a little out of the ordinary. I know that it must be a little concerning to know that Tamsyn and I lived alone in our house back in New York.
To be honest, I couldn't really say anything about my parents. They died when I was 4 and Tami(Who was only 9 at the time) and I were forced to move in with our aunt. I didn't know them--Although Tamsyn would tell me stories of them and it would somehow feel as if they were there with us.
It was kind of like when you're standing in a deep fog, but if you stay still long enough, you can almost feel the warmth of the sun hidden from behind the clouds.
But after Tamsyn turned 18, she and I moved into a small, two bedroom house we rented with the money our parents had left us in their will--it wasn't much, but combined with the paycheck from Tamsyn's job and my babysitting money, we've learned to manage.
This also wasn't the first time that one of us had gotten lost between times.
I remember when I had first met Ariston and she took our 12 year old selves to the 1893 Chicago World's Fair. She was still in the midst of learning how to use her gift and accidentally left me standing in front of the Ferris Wheel.
It's kind of funny now that I think about it.
It's really baffled a lot of history majors when they study an ancient photo of the Ferris Wheel from 1893 and see a modern preteen from the 21st century with platinum white hair and a confused look on her face.
So if you see a picture of me in one of your history textbooks(Which has happened before), now you know the story behind it.
I snapped out of my own head and turned to look at the source of the voice.
"Yes?" I asked, focusing on the present; walking out in the Middle-Eastern heat, a shawl on top of my head.
"Why do you think that Tamsyn doesn't remember anything?" She asked, trying to fan herself with her hands.
I shrugged. "It might've been the person who took her who's responsible for that,"
She pondered that for a moment. "But who could've taken her? What does he want?"
"I really have no clue," I said miserably. "His voice sounded so familiar though--I just can't place it."
She gave me a sympathetic look and pats my shoulder with her hand sticky with sweat.
One of the women called something to us behind them and Ari listened intently, as we approached this small village with houses made from mud and stone.
"She said that we are entering the houses of the nobels of Egypt and will be arriving at Setka's house shortly." Ari translated to us and responded in their native tongue.
"Ariston," Brent whispered to his sister urgently. "What are we going to tell Setka when 3 teenagers arrive at his house--uninvited--and expect him to recognize us?"
Ari didn't miss a beat. "We'll cross that when we get to it, which will be in about 30 seconds because I think that is his house."
The women led us to this house in the front of the row it resided in which was fairly bigger than the rest surrounding it.
There was a man, probably it his early 20's, sitting on the porch with olive-toned skin and a shiny bald head. His eyes were lined with dark, black kohl and he wore a linen man-skirt similar to Brent's.
The women bowed their heads to him and Ari nudged us to follow in suit.
Setka--I'm assuming--smiled slyly and the women greeted him, explaining our predicament.
As the two were finishing conversing, Setka jumped to his feet, spread his arms open and grinned.
He thanked the two women as they left and Ari thanked them as well and Setka approached us.
"Ariston. Brentley. Fate. Please, come in." He said with an accent thick in his melodic voice. "I've been waiting for you all."