The school bell rang loudly throughout Lincoln high. Startled, Daniel said goodbye to his friends with a dimpled smile and ran down the hallway towards a room labeled "DETENTION".

"Mr. Fisher," The teacher said, as he walked into the room. "Nice of you to join us, finally."

breathing heavily, he sighed. "The life of the party's finally graced you with his presence." bowing sarcastically, he sat down at a desk. "Don't get too comfortable." with that, the teacher led Daniel to an unused corridor of classrooms in the school. The walls were covered floor to ceiling in spray paint, one design specifically saying 'Daniel Fisher wuz here' . You have to stay until 7:30." The teacher said, handing him a bucket of soapy water and several sponges. "Whatever isn't done you'll have to finish tomorrow."

Daniel stood shocked. "But tomorrow's Saturday!" The teacher looked at him disapprovingly. "Then you shouldn't have spray painted school property."

The boy sighed deeply and began scrubbing the walls, mentally cursing his friends for pinning all the blame on him and not helping. "Note to self," he muttered.

"Get friends who aren't snitches." he looked at his named signed on the wall.

"And get an alias."

"Spray painting school property? What's gotten into you Daniel? Vandalizing? What's next, drinking with those Santana boys? Drugs? Marijuana? I don't know who you are anymore!"

Daniel sighed and pinched his nose, listening to his mother lecture him for what felt like the 100th time in the last 45 minutes. "Marijuana isn't even fun.." He muttered to himself. "What did you say?" "Nothing."

Tense silence passed. "If this is because of your father and i getting a divorce-" Daniel groaned. "I don't want to talk about it." "Well i do! I want to know what's going on with you Daniel!" She yelled, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. She parked the car and turned towards her son.

"I'm going to go get groceries, and when i come back we're going straight home and talking about this with your father." She said sternly, wagging a finger in front of his nose. The brown haired boy sighed again and looked out the window.

Waiting until his mother was inside the building, he huffed and reached into the backseat of the truck and grabbed his school backpack, and wrote a quick note on a post-it and stuck it to the dash. He opened the door of the truck and began walking the long way back to his house in the foggy, humid air of Mosier, Oregon.

Daniel kicked a rock, grumbling. Daniel Fisher grumbled alot these days, mostly about school, life at home, parents, you know. Most things brooding teenage boys grumble about. But this time was different. You see, usually he doesn't go around spray painting walls in his school, or talk back to teachers. But usually his parents don't just, stop being happy and break apart the whole family.

Usually his parents asked him and his brothers what they thought, how they felt. Usually James and Anita Fisher loved each other. But this time they didn't. This time they fought, and yelled, and fought some more. Over petty, useless things. Over which kids would live with which parent. Over who would get the house, and who would have to move.

It was driving Daniel insane. He picked up a rock and threw it over the bridge. Stupid rock. Stupid school. Stupid parents. They were happy. Life was perfect. And then it wasn't. He fleetingly debated jumping off of the bridge, but he didn't want to die. Not at all. Sighing, he turned back to the road and kept trudging. If only, he paused.

If only he could be anywhere but here. If only he could be far, far away from here.

And that was the last thing Daniel Fisher thought before his head got a little too dizzy, and before he fell to the ground with big, hard thump. But he didn't black out right at that moment. Before he did, he caught a glimpse of a cloaked figure watching him, and then everything went dark.

He came to when night had fallen. Shadows of trees loomed over his head, and the smell of woodsmoke filled his lungs. Sitting up slowly, he blinked blearily at his surroundings. He was surrounded by a group of people he had never seen before, and he appeared to have been redressed in some sort of traveling garb. He was wearing a leather jerkin over a large, billowy like shirt and a tough but soft sort of trousers. A cloak lay fastened around his shoulders, and shin length boots were laced snugly against his legs.

"Sorry, hate to but in, but where in the hell am i?" Daniel asked, what seemed as polite as he could muster, to the posse sitting around the fire. They smiled warmly and gestured him over, handing him a bowl of thick soup. "We found you all bloodied and battered, looked like someone had roughed you up and left you for dead in the middle of the road. Your clothes were torn to shreds." A man said, pointing to a pile of discarded clothing in a pile.

Daniel nodded, still confused as to where he was, but looking down at the soup, he felt a pull in his stomach at the sight of it. He gave in, and thought it best to save his questions for later.

The man who had spoken to him was broad, with sort of a reddish orange shag framing his face. The entire group was like this, brawn, brazen-looking with long hair, all dressed in the same sort of leather, was it armour? Daniel noticed swords resting beside the men, and furrowed his brow.

"I hope it's not rude to ask, but what are you?" The man said slowly. Daniel looked up and swallowed. "What?" "You're obviously not from our world- the way you were dressed, the way you look. I've never seen anything like it before." An older man said. The group looked at him in interest, not at all afraid or angry at the sight of a foreigner.

"I could ask the same-" Daniel started. "One minute i'm in Oregon, walking home from school and the next minute i wake up and it's like i've been dropped into the Chronicles of Narnia." He blurted. The men looked confused. "DIfferent world you say?"

The red haired man nodded. "Well, shit." The group laughed at this. "You are in Hollin, about a days ride from Rivendale. We travel to a meeting, but you are welcome to come with us. There are people in that city that might be able to help you."

"You don't seem to shaken at the fact that you're in another world, though, i can't say this has ever happened before. Unless it's common where you're from, to wake up in another land not knowing how you got there," "God no. Never happened before" Daniel laughed. The men shared stories of their land, listening intently and surprisingly to Daniel, taking the whole situation very well.

"My mother always told me not to talk to strangers but, I feel like true strangers would have just left me at the side of the road. My name's Daniel Fisher, and my friends call me Fish." He said, leaning back against the tree. "Well Daniel Fisher, I am Boromir, son of Denethor. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance"