Word Count: 510

Lucasta awakened one day, not entirely by accident, to fading dreams of a girl with a pale face and long, golden hair.

She knew only three things: that her own name was Lucasta, that she had a duty to uphold, and that she must find that girl, though she did not know where or how to begin. Lucasta did not recognize her surroundings but couldn’t remember anything else; there was a vague sense of before, but no memories from which to gain an understanding. She had only her identity, and no story behind it.

A name repeated itself, over and over in her subconscious, whispering voices beckoning her onward, though they provided little other direction.

Ganymede... Ganymede... Ganymede...

Yes, Ganymede. She knew must find Ganymede. She must fulfill her duty as a Guardian, for that was what she was, and that was what she would always be.

She found her beginnings in the middle of a sprawling city, with tall buildings that cut into the sky on all sides, and strange vehicles of varying sizes that spouted out foul smelling exhaust. Lucasta kept her distance from them. She did not trust them, choosing instead to take her chances along the white walking paths that bordered the street, and the forest of human legs that tread upon them. It was a strange landscape, but for now it is all she knew.

She saw other felines during her travels. They were all powerless, scavenging for scraps of food down dark, dirty alleyways. Lucasta did not approach them. They were beneath her. They had no understanding of what had become of her, and they did not strive for greatness. They knew only survival; Lucasta knew only duty.

She slept in the park, curled on the bank of a tiny stream beneath a small bridge. It offered adequate shelter from the elements (though it was quite cold), and she had a ready supply of water and edible creatures. She hunted for food, avoided the presence of canines, and spoke to no one.

She had a mission, and she would follow it until she was done.

And when that time came?

Lucasta did not know.

She expected it would take her months to find out. It may take her years. She did not know the name of the girl with the golden hair. She did even know the color of her eyes. Blue, perhaps? Or green? Once, Lucasta thought she could imagine the sound of the girl's voice, but that was unlikely to help her. All Lucasta had at her disposal were brief glimpses of a dream, and the knowledge that the girl could not be far.

Instinct compelled her to believe that the girl was somewhere within this city.

She had only to find her.

So Lucasta walked by day and slept by night, focusing not on the mysterious before — that could come later — but on a certain day in the not too distant future, when she would be reunited with a girl she could not remember losing.