Chapter I

The Appearance of the New President

Where do I begin? This tale of woe takes place in the grand country, The United States of America, more specifically New Hampshire, in the year 2012. I was but nineteen years old in spring, but a season before this tale starts. My name is Samantha Jackson of the Balanced People, which is, for the sake of this tale, unimportant until the end. A dark cloud came over our already-corrupt land. Obama's time in presidency was coming to an end, and a new president was soon to be necessary. The country was a mess, financially, politically, and in every corner of the country's establishment.

The day was Thursday the twenty-first of June (check it if you want) and almost one entire year since my graduation of High School. A good friend of mine—a foreigner forced by his parents to move here and forced by his own will to return home—from Guatemala returned to the US for a familial visit. He called me early that morning and made quick arrangements to meet that very night in Keene. He took me to a restaurant called "Luca's." It was quite a lovely dinner where we caught up on lost times and new memories. Quickly afterward, we left "Luca's" and sat on one of the stone benches of Main Street, Keene. I remember it as if it was yesterday...

I turned to him. He was watching the moon above the city, his eyes transfixed. "When do you plan to leave?"

He looked over to me, eyes full of confusion. "Is that what you want? For me to leave again?"

I was surprised at the negative turn. "No, no! Of course not! It was just, between college and all, I would like to make a habit of this."

It was his turn to be surprised. "College? You never said anything about that. Where do you go to college?"

I simply raised a hand and pointed diagonally down Main Street before saying "Keene State College."

"So close to home?"

"I don't have to pay to stay on campus; it helps financially."

He gave a little smile before looking back in the sky. This time, his expression was full of confusion and worry, yet his eyes were, again, transfixed, but this time not upon the moon.

I became slightly worried. "What's wrong?"

He pointed in the sky, and my eyes quickly spotted a shadow just to the left of the moon. We watched it for a moment before a rumbling sound came from his pant pocket. He quickly pulled out a cell phone and took a look at it. "Mis padres..." He turned to me. "¿Querrías a ir a interior?"

I gave him a look, reminding him that if he was going to speak Spanish, he was going to have to do so a little slower.

He shut his eyes, shook his head in slight embarrassment, and said, "Los sientos, would you like to come inside?" He gestured toward a nearby restaurant called "Armadillos."

I quickly nodded. He took my hand in his and walked me to the restaurant, saying, "This will only take a moment," and answering the call.

We sat down at one of the more inconspicuous tables in the corner. I continued to watch the shadow, which now appeared in front of the moon.

"No." Kevin's voice rose, catching my attention. "No, papá, con una amiga Buena. Contas con mi llegado a medianoche o más tarde." And with those final, harsh words, he hung up. He looked out the window with me.

"What was that about?"

He shook his head. "Nothing important."

I sighed. Everyone liked to pull that crap with me. But I suppose it was a bit hypocritical of me to complain.

"What do you suppose it is?" He asked after a moment.

But just as I was about to answer, some bright mauve light shone forth from the shadow and I heard one word deep within my mind: "Sleep." The simple word was quite powerful; I quickly lost much of my strength and slowly fell into Kevin's suddenly ready arms.

"Something's wrong..." I muttered.

"Are you okay?" Kevin asked.

I looked around. I was not the only one suddenly tired—actually, I was the only one with my eyes still open, and they were quickly drooping. But it seemed to only affect the women. Any who had come with them were instantly worried of their health. "I... I dunno..." My words slurred together with increasing laziness.

After that, my eyes closed and I remembered very little; there was a struggle and I was taken away along with the rest of the women, who had succumbed to the spell.

It could not have been the next night when I awoke, though it was dark. Hardly an hour could have passed. I was on my side, lying upon broken sticks, chipped rocks and groups of pebbles. I began to shift in the hopes of finding a more comfortable position to rest in when I realized that I was not in my bed at home and that I was bound. I opened my eyes while trying to remember how the night played out, upon which I realized both my wrists and ankles had been manacled together.

"Sire, this one awakens!" A voice said behind me. In what little time I had, I examined the foreign surroundings. I, as well as many others, lay within a large field I had been to once or twice. It was actually fairly close to home. The cliffs and forests surrounded us all from all sides except one and very little grass grew in such a dead place. I pushed myself up with my bound hands, into a sitting position, both legs to one side.

Heavy steps came swiftly behind me. I turned to see who had advanced. A large, strong, dark hand grabbed and lifted my chin. "Welcome to the world of the living. You are the first to return." In the dark his features were quite difficult to discern.

"Wh-who are you?" I stammered in the attempts to escape his grasp. "What do you want?"

"Perhaps if you ask me something a little more imaginative I'll answer it." He retorted in a menacingly powerful voice.

Before I could answer, someone interrupted: "King Ganondorf, this is the child that fought off the spell for a time..."

The man before me, apparently the king of some sum of people, turned to the voice.

"Her friend gave quite a struggle for her freedom, too." The voice continued. "We had to hex him as well."

The man's hand dropped from my chin, which helped me grasp what little courage I had left. "What did you do to him?" My volume awoke no one, but it was quite formidable.

He turned aback and looked at me with sharp, yellow eyes. "Another cliché question. Koume, Kotake, if you don't mind." He stood from his knelt position and stepped to the side so I could see two old women in black robes with white hair and brooms. You may say that is a generic description for any old witch, but what separated them from the rest was the large jewel upon their foreheads, one being of sapphire origin and the other of ruby.

They didn't even need to bend down to me after approaching me. "Your friend is fine. He is sleeping soundly in his bed at home." One said, while the other laughed.

The first thing I thought was that he was back in Guatemala, bringing forth a fearful gasp, but my second thought was, of course, his safety.

"High Lord," one turned to this 'king' and said, "the others should awaken within the hour."

"And before we go, might we warn of one thing?" The other continued.

"A warning is well accepted. What be it?" He inquired.

"This girl is not like the others. Though they may easily be held under your thumb..."

"...she will not. Not only is her mind a strong one, but it is also full of fog and cloud." The two twins seemed to speak off each other.

"Fog is nothing and her strength can be no more than a sliver of mine, even intellectually." The 'king' argued.

"Within this fog, she sees perfectly fine. She throws attacks while we are blind to the assault. Be forewarned; if you still plan to control her as you do the rest, be prepared for a hard fight—perhaps even a war."

No one—not even them themselves—knew how prophetical their words would be. I, as well as the 'king,' thought they over judged; but their certainty proved to be something otherwise. With that, they walked away, side by side, to a small tent set up in a corner of the clearing. That left the 'king' and me to become, sadly, better acquainted.

"Whereas you have their unwavering minds swayed, you do not have mine." He hissed darkly. After a moment, however, he grinned maliciously. "Let's just see how... strong your mind truly is..." He raised his open hand and placed it upon my forehead with a harsh force that thrust my head backwards, though my back stayed unmoved. There was something else about this attack; it felt as though I was being invaded—everything that I was was now, somehow, exposed. My eyes had shut when his hand came at me, and tightened when the pain worsened. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the field I had been in: I was in the sky—a quite cloudy sky. Most oughtn't be able to see a single inch in front of them, but here's the odd part: I saw perfectly fine. I took in my new surroundings, realizing that I was neither rising nor falling, but, rather, floating. Some sort of instinct overtook me within less than a moment. I rushed forward for twenty, thirty seconds tops, where I found this 'king' hovering more confusedly than I. I rounded him, looking at him up and down. But he didn't seem to notice.

Admittedly, quite quickly, he understood how to maneuver, and quickly did so, directing himself down. I know it was important for me to stop him, though how I knew it, or why it was important, I did not know. I rushed after him, easily catching up to him and even surpassing him. I held something in my hand—in both of my hands—something cold. I didn't even look at the object, but, rather, instinctively threw it at the 'king.' It struck him square in the chest, knocking him up in the air. I could sense a harsh pain emanating from a sharp object that had penetrated his lung.

I fell into the ground as his hand released my forehead. I felt groggy—as if I had just awakened from a restless sleep.

As my vision was still blurry, a large hand grabbed my chin painfully and lifted my head upwards. "That was a grave mistake, wench!" With those harsh words, I was flung into the dirt. He left me semiconscious, chained to the many unconscious girls of various ages to my left and right.

I didn't know what I was trying to protect—and beyond that I had no idea until quite recently after examining my past where it was I had been—but I had sincerely wished I hadn't. As it seems, the 'king' and I had been on the outskirts of my own consciousness and what I fought to protect were my own memories, my own thoughts, and any information he might have found useful. At this particular time, I was quite worried of what was to soon happen and quite annoyed with my harsh instinct.

Now, however, I am quite glad my natural instinct was present. If it was not, this story may be nonexistent...

AN: So, I have updated this for all who care. There were lots of grammatical errors, and I think I fixed most of them. If any more are found, please notify my and I will do my best to fix them. Please Review, but if you have criticism, try to make it at least sound constructive. Thank ye muchly!

Also, My profile on deviantART is DragonoftheWestIroh. If you like my work, you may find some things there that I cannot post here. If it's easier for you to read my stuff through this website, do not hesitate. Again, thank yo all for reading, and I'll update as soon as I can!