Sarah Jane had a common name for a reason. Uncommon names drew attention and sometimes even suspicion. When your line of work involved dealing with myths come true, attention was the last thing you wanted. Ah, true, there were days when she craved the attention and companionship of someone, but should she ever get her wish, that someone would quickly find themselves thrust into horrors they had once only dreamed of. No, it was better to wander the world lonely rather than to risk the life of some unknown person all for an instant of being the center of a life.<br/><br/>Though she wasnâ€™t always lonely, now that she really thought about it. She spent most of her time in great crowds, exchanging idle pleasantries. For their part, thatâ€™s where the companionship ended; a few kind phrases and questions,  then it was over. She would slip away unnoticed, slip back into a world of shadow, mystery, and occasionally death. Not tonight though, for a brief time, she would indeed be the center of attention. She would command and lead two people through her world. Whether they came out alive was another story entirely.<br/><br/>This was what Sarah had been pondering for the fifteen minutes or so that sheâ€™d been standing outside the front of the small church. She felt exhausted, ready to drop at any minute. She had been called in by Father Rufus, someone she had only heard about. She had acted instantly to the call, gathering her things for the trip. It had taken her two days to reach this place, two days of nearly nonstop movement. That would explain her dizzying tiredness, but she knew she couldnâ€™t rest or wait out here any longer. There was much more at stake than her life or even the lives of the two who would be following her.<br/><br/>Sarah opened the church door. It swung easily on well oiled hinges. The aisle up the center was not long, and she made it to the altar with ten easy strides. There she paused, bowing her head for a moment in prayer. She needed the blessing of strength and alertness and patience wouldnâ€™t hurt either. Once done, she raised her head and walked silently down a small hallway, following the smell of burning wood. At the door, behind which she could hear voices and the crackling of a merry fire, she knocked and without waiting for an invitation entered. â€œOf course theyâ€™re real,â€ she said in a whisper quiet voice. â€œWhy else would we be here? To play make believe?â€ She sat gratefully in a vacant chair, moving her most obvious weapon, a rapier, to lay across her lap as she did so. She looked up at the pair of young children standing in the room as well. â€œThen again maybe we are.â€