Illyana was a woman of many burdens, so much so even Atlas would pity the weight upon her shoulders, yet she strides onward, better than any other person who's ever walked. But on one of her missions, she came across a lost orphaned human girl, one who looked just like a younger her... she couldn't leave her be, so she took the girl with her. Being her guardian, but even that has its struggles. That's where you come in.

There was an Irish folklore, about little children being taken away at night by fairies. Illyana would say, tucking the young Zlata into bed, her hair sprawled across the pillow, her odd little smile plastered over her face as Illyana spoke to her.

The fairies would leave an almost identical child in the place of the child, a simulation. But they weren't perfect. They'd look like the child, with their cute button noses and curved ears. Each word time Illyana mentioned a body part, she'd playfully tug upon the said body part of Plato's, the young girl letting out a squeal in protest, her arms flailing about to swat away her adoptive mothers teases, but would giggle shortly after, a small huff and smile followed Illyana shortly after doing so, before moving down to tuck her back in, resting the now disheveled bed.

But the children, they weren't the same... they were different to the human boys and girls, and they were none the wiser. They were different, of a different species to their neighbour, but a mother always notices. Illyana leaned in close to Zlata's face, a playful smirk on her lips, her questioning tone keeping that playful tone.