It was a new city. No, a new world. There was no denying that it was all a little overwhelming for the witch, but all the same, it wasn't as though she had been able to choose between either staying in Ireland or leaving her breathtaking birthlands. On the contrary, it had been a... stressful ordeal. While the living situation for her family had been under a great deal of tension over the last few months, things only seemed to have gotten worse and worst. Then, the day came that her mother and father came to her in the night, shaking her gently awake from that slumber no more than a couple weeks ago."Maera, we need to go", the hushed voice of her mother had whispered quietly in the darkness as her father stood there in the doorway, strong frame rigid with nervousness as he seemed to be watching for something. Or someone. It wasn't a secret to the young woman that their family was but one of the many that were under attack. It was no secret to the many families of witches and warlocks that The Hand Of Balor had grown stronger. So strong even, that it seemed they were adamant on sacrificing their own kind for what they were so hellbent on believing as the greater good, trying to appease the being that they worshiped with the sterling blood of their own kin so that they could be granted his power and take over not only Ireland, but the world. It was terrifying, but even more than that, it was devastating. Her family had always been close, and while they were hardly one of the larger families in the that beautiful country she missed with every beat of her heart, they were well-known â€" if not even respected and looked up to. Perhaps that was why The Hand Of Balor had pursued The Carricks with such a ravenous and wicked hunger.

And so, that night, the family had been driven from their safe house as the screams of their brethren sounded through the darkness. It was a tell-tale sign that their chance to escape was frightfully short, that if they did not take that chance then and there to flee, they would have succumbed to the same fate as her aunt and uncle... Still, the news weighed heavily on Maera's spirit. They'd been such good and kind people, so ready and willing to do anything for those that they called friends and family. For them to have been murdered as cruelly as they had, it was enough to bring forth that threat of tears to her brilliant blue-green eyes that her mother had always told her reflected the sea on its calmest days. And her poor cousin, Killian... She couldn't even imagine what he'd gone through. It was a wonder in and of itself that he'd managed to make it to Maera and her parents before those damned beings were able to get to him. That was when everything really seemed to escalate back home. The family could hardly stay in one place for long, always moving around to do what they could to stay safely hidden and as far away from the murderous coven that they could. And it worked for a little while. Eventually, Killian had decided that he wanted to try and make a life for himself beyond all that he'd ever known, and it had been difficult for Maera to say goodbye to her best friend in the entire world, but she only ever wanted the best for the Irishman. They'd grown up together, being as close as brother and sister really despite the fact that they were really only cousins, so naturally a part of her had been hesitant to let go of him the day that he'd packed up what little belongings he had, but in the end, she had to. He deserved to go wherever it was that his heart carried him in life, even if it meant away from home.