| prologue |

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| prologue | 

1940, aged 11

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1940, aged 11

"Clara Belle Davies! The horses ain't gonna feed themselves!"

The young girl sighs as she pulls her dirty wellington boots onto her small feet. She checks her ponytail for loose strands in the reflection of the window, the dark sky providing a flawless mirror effect.

"Clara Belle! Now!"

"Coming mama!" The girl rushes down the stairs to the kitchen where her mother, Ruth, sat with a glass of water as her husband, George, read the newspaper.

"And about time, too." He spoke up. "You're almost a teenager, and that's almost an adult. You need to be up earlier to care for everyone in your house. For now, get yourself out there and tend to the animals. The new foal needs a good cleaning, too."

"How many eggs would you like for breakfast?" Clara asks as she picks up the basket from the kitchen side.

"Just bring them all in. They'll freeze otherwise."

The blonde hair girl nods her head and opens the back door, shutting it firmly behind her and heading to the chicken coop first.

Once the eggs were collected and safely tucked inside the basket, Clara set it outside the stable and headed inside to care for the 3 horses and new foal inside.

"How many were there?" Ruth asked as her daughter came through the door, sighing at the warmer air inside.

"7. This winter is colder than the last one, there'll probably be less eggs this time round. Their bodily resources are more focused on keeping themselves warm than producing eggs, so we can't expect as many." Clara replies intelligently.

"How do you know that? Have you been reading those awful books again?" George stands in the doorway, his stance showing his displeasure.

"I had nothing else to do, I promise." The young girl rushed. "I passed the library on the way home from the market and a book on animals caught my eye. I was only there for 20 minutes."

"Reading those books will get you nowhere in life! You need to focus on your house skills." Her mother scolds.

"I'm sorry mama."

"If I ever see your head in a book, you'll be confined to your room until I see fit." The young girl looks to the ground to hide the tears building in her eyes. "Now get started on the breakfast. The usual, and you may have one egg this morning." Ruth permits.

"Thank you mama." She hears their footsteps leave the kitchen and move to the sitting room where they wait until the first meal of the day is ready.

As the 11 year old girl moves swiftly around the kitchen, her eyes are caught on the newspaper that George seemingly forgot on the kitchen table. An unexplainable urge to observe it filled her senses, and she felt an undeniable pull towards it. She glances at the hardening eggs on the stove, before checking that the coast was clear from the adults, before she silently rushes over to it and sets her eyes on the front page.

"Captain America tours the country" Is the headline. "See attached poster for more information." is what reads below.

Clara skims over the words printed on the paper, briefly spotting the words, 'new hope' and 'star-spangled man with a plan' which made her giggle slightly. Though, what unnerved her, was the name she read at the beginning of the article. "Steve Rogers"

The hairs on the young girl stood on end and goosebumps raised on her arms as she felt the left side of her abdomen tingle, leaving her slightly confused. She shook her head clear of thoughts and went to set the newspaper back on the table, when the corner of another, more colourful page fell from the middle of the cluster of papers. She pulled out the heavily inked paper, to reveal a colourful poster of a man covered in red, white and blue. She doesn't realise that she began to stare at the attractive man at the centre of attention, until she looks at his face. A blush crossed her cheeks, unnoticed by her, as her eyes scan the blonde haired man in the extravagant outfit. But then it changes.

Her eyes set themselves upon his. Though obstructed, the eye contact causes the left side of her torso to erupt in a series of tingles and slight discomfort. Her hand shoots to the cause of the feeling - her soul mark. The top mark on her left side was beginning to reveal herself.

The sizzling of the eggs brought the girl out of her thoughts. She glanced at the clock on the wall before realising she had been distracted for at least a couple of minutes, and the eggs would be more than done by now. With one more glance at the doorway, she picked up the poster and folded it  carefully, slipping it into her clothes to hold onto it for later, as she swiftly moved over to the stove and called her mother and step-father to breakfast.

Standing in the small bathroom of their country home, Clara pulled the poster out of her garments. She carefully unfolded it and her eyes immediately landed on those of 'Captain America'. The baby blue colour, not too far off her own, reminded her of the clear sky that now lay outside. Once again, she felt the strange sensation in her side again, thought stronger this time round. She lifted her shirt slightly to reveal the series of soul marks , focusing on the top one.

Circles. And a star. She could see the lines on the soulmark. Her eyes skimmed over the others, but they all remained in their black, mysterious states. But the top one, she could see what it was, though she had to guess what it actually represented. Most likely a shield, that's what she felt in her gut.

She quickly dropped her shirt and hid the poster as she heard her mother call for her, her footsteps nearing the closed bathroom door.

"Stop daydreaming, child! George is starting to get hungry, why don't you get dinner on?"

"Yes, mama." The young girl obeyed. She looked at her reflection once more before leaving the bathroom; her mind on nothing else but the pattern on her abdomen.

















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