Hullo all my first fic so please review OC and backstory until I get the plot rolling. ~Ang
/ October 12th 2011/ Northern Illinois/ Orrison household.
/
The gray old house that dominated the small hill at the top of Dresdan lane was simple. A non-descript car, plain shingles. All that jazz. The only thing that was Remarkable was the people who lived there; Dracken Ecko Orrison, along with his father Amroth, and his mother Alaina. They lived a simple life. Not wanting or needing the fancy cars that lined the streets below them. Or the fancy stereos that they heard every night.
They had books. And lots of them. Walls and walls of books, the living room was like a library. The storage room like five libraries. The attic with its bay window and little seat that overlooked the nearby forest reserve is where Dracken lay, reading a book.
The title of that book was Rangers Apprentice book 5: The Sorcerer of the North. It was a fantastic read. In Dracken's opinion it was one of the best he had ever read. He longed to go to the fields and shores of Araluen. He wanted to become a ranger. The cloaked mysterious ways of the order called to him like a sirens song.
He absent mindedly flipped a page, then as if thinking better of it. He closed the book and made his way to the stairs. He slowly descended and went outside, with every intention of going for a walk in the nearby forest reserve. Which oddly, was named Barton-Treaty forest preserve.
Upon arrival to his favorite spot in the woods he camped out under the oldest tree he could find and curled up with his book. This is when it all went wrong, when he turned the second to last page of the book a drop of red fell as if from the heavens and landed in the center of the page. Eyes flashed upwards just in time to see a tree branch break loose from the trunk as if on its own accord. He heard the snap and knew, that there wasn't enough time to move away.
Later when Amroth and Alaina searched the woods, they found there son. Head barely bleeding from the branch that had smashed into his head. But alas, he was in a coma and would not wake.
Or was he.
/ month of Junest. Second week. Third year of Araluen – Skandian treaty/ southern fields of Redmont fief./
Dracken groaned. His head felt as it had been split with a blunt axe. Exhaustion overcame him suddenly. As if he had traveled a great many miles. Blearily he opened his eyes, and gasped. Gone were the trees of gold and brown leaves. Instead there were green fields, Lush cherry tree groves, and pale blue sky. And in the distance…. A castle?
He stood which was a mistake as his knees gave out and it was several moments before he found them again. He slowly made his way to the top of the small convex hill. His jaw dropped. That banner was unmistakable a Red castle over a hill. He was in Araluen.