I was a loner. Sure, I had many friends, but they were all more like acquaintances. They were people to sit with at lunch, and people to ask for homework when I missed school. But none of them really were what I would call friends. I couldn't share anything that happened with them. So no one came and visited me when I was in the hospital.

No one called me to ask if I was okay. Not like it would matter anyways. I wouldn't have remembered any of them.

This story starts one cold night. I had decided to go out for a walk. My mom and I had gotten in a fight, again. This was the third time this week. She wanted me to get together with people. I said that it was a bother, and didn't want to. But the real reason was because I didn't have anyone I really wanted to talk to. No one understood me.

I felt constantly like I had been born in the wrong time, the wrong era. Seeing all of the machinery and advertisements that surrounded me, didn't feel right. I wasn't meant to be here. How do you explain that to people, much less expect them to understand it?

The only things that I took pleasure in were my archery lessons and the woods. I was quite good at shooting. Best in my class of nationally renowned people, I still felt no need to try very hard. It was the one thing that came naturally to me.

I walked away from my house, and into the woods that surrounded my home. We lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I had to drive several miles into the city, just to go to school.

But today I could tell that someone was different. It was Halloween night, and there was a full moon. That alone was different. I always felt…strange on Halloween night, particularly when the moon was at its brightest. It made me feel more powerful, like an unearthly being. Several times, when I was younger, I had sworn that I could have flown.

I stalked through the forest, the moon casting eerie shadows through ought the forest. The wind sang softly through the creaky branches of the old willow trees. Despite the cold and the dark, I felt safe. The forest was never unkind to me. My mother had always told me of the people who went in and never came back out, or of the creeping beasts that lay, waiting to strike, to sink their teeth into young flesh at the first opportunity. But I never heeded her warnings. The forest had become my haven, my safe house years ago.

I heard thunder rumble in the distance. The storm was coming, and traveling faster than I would have thought. I had heard about it earlier, on the radio. It was supposed to be of enormous proportions. I knew that it wasn't safe for me to be out so far with this monster coming my way, but I didn't care. I was still angry with my mother.

Suddenly, there was another crash, and it began to rain, hard and fast, like bullets falling from the sky. It was icy cold, and it hurt, stung like bees. I quickly took cover under a tall, old oak. I hadn't expected to be out in the forest this late, so I wasn't dressed in my usual garb. I only wore a thin white shirt (it had been warmer, earlier in the day), my tight green cargo pants, and a pair of my favorite brown lace up boots. No jacket to protect me from the rain.

Sighing, I made myself comfortable under the tree. The ground was hard, but I had slept here many nights, so I would be able to make do. The sound of the rain in the trees was soothing. Moments later, I was fast asleep.

When I awoke, I could tell that something had changed, dramatically. The air was warmer, and there was no wetness on the ground around me. There was no sign that it had rained last night. The tree that I had taken shelter under last night was smaller, not as vast as I remembered it. I sat up slowly, a little stiff from spending the night on the forest floor. The birdcalls sounded…different.

There was a noise, at first almost inaudible to my ears, that rapidly grew louder and I stiffened as I realized what it was. Hoof beats. No horses ever traveled through this forest. Almost no one came in here, even if it was to avoid their parents. No one except me. And definitely, not horses.

They got closer and closer. There were definitely quite a few of them. I couldn't move. I was frozen with fear. What if this is a stampede, a whole herd? They would over run me, and I would be crushed, trampled into a bloody mess, nothing left but a smear on the forest floor. I closed my eyes. It was upon me.

I could hear the scream of a horse, and feel the woosh of warm air that came panting out from its nostrils. This horse had been running for quite a long time. The others clattered to a halt behind this one, their scream renting the air. I kept my eyes tightly shut.

Now that they were closer, I could hear the clink of reins, and here someone speak to their horse in a soft voice. I finally risked opening my eyes.

The bright sun blinded me for a moment, and I was unable to see anything except vague silhouettes. I judged it to be about midday. I had slept for quite a long time.

As my vision began to come in to focus, I could make out one of the figures in front of me dismount, and stride softly towards me. The figure said something in a strange language, something that I had never heard before. It sounded fluid, like Italian or perhaps French, and yet, I was sure that it was neither of those.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't speak…"

"Ah, you speak common tongue." The man crouched down next to me and helped me to my feet. I could see his face clearly now. He was peculiar, not like any person my age that I had ever seen before. But he was undoubtedly beautiful. I suddenly found myself left breathless, gazing into his stunning eyes. His hair was long, and blond, braided intricately along the sides probably to keep it out of his face. His chin was well sculpted, almost regal, and yet he had a slightly playful, carefree air about him. His voice was lilting and soft, but I was suddenly on my guard.

"I speak English, if that's what you mean." I was wary of these people, despite his beauty. No one had ever come through these woods before.

"I have no heard it called such a thing before," He mused, "Where are you from, and what is your business in Rivendell?"

I was confused, "What do you mean, Rivendell? This is…" But as I studied him closely, I became aware in the difference of him garb. He was clad in leather boots, and some form of tunic, belted at the waist. But what disturbed and excited me most was the bow and quiver of arrows that were slung nonchalantly over his back.

My gaze turned to the company with him. There were nine in all. Four appeared to be small, childlike to my eyes. Three were taller, older perhaps. And then there was him. All of them sported some sort of weapon; a broadsword, arrows, knives, shorter swords. And the all wore cloaks and the like. They all looked like… people from a different time.

Suddenly my stomach was seized with dread. I looked around briefly, back towards where the path to my home would be. It was nowhere to be seen.

I had a feeling that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.