"Are you lost?"

The scent of lilacs and roses drifted in the air. Jasmine looked up. It must have been the woman's perfume. She shook her head.

"No," she lied. "I'm just sitting for a bit."

The woman nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." She lowered herself to the ground. "I think I'll sit, too."

Jasmine couldn't believe so elegant a woman would want to touch the dirty ground. The stranger took to the floor beside her with her back against the wall. She stared at the other wall of the train station corridor. There were few commuters this late at night. People passed by as if they weren't there.

That's how people always treated Jasmine. No one saw her. People only recognized that they was someone sitting on the ground. They would walk around without a word. Sometimes she would catch a cruel glance from someone before they continued on. Now a woman with clean clothes and black boots had joined her.

"My sister died today," she said.

"Sorry," Jasmine said.

Jasmine would have shown more sympathy for a stranger before. Now, her own problems were too much. The train tunnel was not where she had chosen to sit. This was where she lived. She would try to sleep until the police chased her away. She had nowhere and no one.

That was why the woman was here. She didn't notice how dirty Jasmine was. She was just someone with her own issues who wanted to talk to someone. She would walk away when done and never look Jasmine's way again.

"Was she sick?" Jasmine asked.

"No. She just died. It happens. She was old. We both are."

The woman didn't look old. She must have been on her way back from the hospital. Jasmine hoped she would leave soon. Her presence was bothersome except for her perfume. The fragrance was light while being the only scent now in the air.

The woman looked at Jasmine. "Why are you here?"

"Because..." What should she say? Anguish? Bad choices? Despair? Why did she need to answer? She felt anger well up before it was smothered by sadness. "Because it's my fate."

"Hmm. Perhaps." The woman nodded and looked back to the wall. "Do you remember coming here?"

Jasmine didn't. That wasn't uncommon. She often drifted to wherever it was warm or cool or where she could find something to eat. Her memories of a life before were growing more unclear. Her life was a constant tunnel and she was heading deeper away from the light.

"You don't, do you?" She woman inhaled again. "You were meant to be here. That's why I'm here. I'm looking for a new sister."

She was mad. Jasmine had seen plenty of crazy people on the streets. They were avoidable because their madness wasn't hidden. This stylish woman was the kind to be afraid of. She was probably in a cult or something.

"I have been around for a long time. There were many more before I was born. The tales of us go back millennia. We have lessened over the centuries. Our numbers shrink with the loss of belief and faith. Fifty righteous of us could have saved the city. Thirty-six were charged with keeping the faith. Now it is down to us. Seven. The Seven Sisters."

Jasmine didn't know what she was talking about. The woman was probably upset over the loss of her sister and not thinking straight. Perhaps she would leave if Jasmine stayed quiet and didn't move.

"We have kept the faith throughout time. We live and watch and learn and guide. We help keep hope in the world and bring light to those without. We do this without fanfare or expectation of glory. We receive no recognition for what we do. We go through life unseen. Our names will never make into the history books. There are no statues or tributes to us." She looked around. "Nothing except a name on a train station."

The woman nodded to herself. "My sister has died and another must take her place. I was drawn to here and I think you were as well. Do you have anything you believe in? Do you have anything at all?"

Jasmine didn't want to speak. She felt the urge to respond and shook her head.

The woman stood up and turned to her. "You can be my sister now. Come with me and your pain will wash away. You will bear no burdens but the weight of the world. That is a burden easily carried when you have others around you."

Jasmine looked around. The people in the station passed by as if in a dream. The room was brighter without an increase in lighting. She tried to say something. There were no words. She stared at her dirty hands and wept.

"Are you lost?" the woman asked.

Jasmine looked up to her. "Yes."

The woman extended her hand. "And now you are found."