Hello ! My name is Willow and I'm sorta new here. I just got a laptop (been saving for months!) and now I'm finally able to type and publish this fic! I have been handwriting this whole thing since, what October now..?(I got to like, page 64 when i handwrote this thing...) Whatever, it doesn't matter. What matters is that i actually lied and i'm not willow, i'm rick riordan and i wrote the whole pjo and hoo series! NOT.
I. OWN. NOTHING. If i did write the Pjo and HOO series, i wouldn't be working on fanfics. I'd be writing my next book. So.. intro, check! Disclaimer... Check! All right, that's all for now, enjoy the story, folks!
Chapter 1: Mirror, Mirror on the wall
She woke up with a headache. She felt like her whole body was one massive bruise and she didn't know where she was.
What a lovely morning.
She looked around the room. On her left there was a nightstand, in front of her wasa dresser with a mirror attached to it. Next to it were to hardwood letters mounted on the wall, An A and a C. There was a desk, pushed up against the right wall, with an open laptop on it. All around the walls were picture of a blonde girl. In some she was with a middle aged man, who had the same blonde hair. Likely her relative. In others, she was with a boy about her age with dark hair that desperately needed a haircut and bright green eyes. She couldn't figure out who the boy in the pictures was, but she saw one picture where the boy had his arm around the blonde girl and figured they were a couple.
She twisted her torso to crack her back but discovered she could barely move in the stiff violet corset she was wearing. Wait, hold up. Corset..? Last time she checked the fanciest article of clothing she had was her cloak. Cloak... Where was her cloak? It was her second most prized possesion, her choker being the first. She touched her neck to make sure it was still there. She felt the cystal pendant that she would've known blindfolded.
At least they allowed me to keep that, she thought. Then it hit her like a pile of bricks (heh heh bricks) Who were they? Who had dressed her this way and more importantly, why? Who had kidnapped her and taken her here? (Obviously, she had to have been kidnapped, how else would she have gotten there?) And most of all, where did they put that cloak? She looked around for it.
"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" She covered her mouth as soon as she'd said it.
Not once in her 15 years of life had she ever heard those words, but she somehow knew just what they meant. The amount of surprises that day was just getting ridiculous , she woke up in a room that wasn't her own (even though she'd never actually had a real "room",) Then she was wearing a corset and a silky black skirt, and she couldn't find her cloak, which she normally carried with her every where she went.
She kept looking under the pillows, in dresser drawers, even under the desk, before she decided it was hopeless and flopped over on the bed. She felt something silk materialize in her hands. Naturally, it was her cloak.
"No way!" She turned the fabric over in her hands. The age old cloak she'd stolen from a shop when she was 6 had of course, gotten way too small, had been ripped in countless places, and had faded from black to gray. Now, her cloak was good as new. Black as her own shadow, every rip and threadbare place had miracalously vanished, and now, for the first time since she'd taken it from the shop, it fit her perfectly and the material wasn't as itchy, and more like silk. It couldv'e been a completely different cloak, but something told her it was then same one she'd grown up wearing.
She put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. Now her cloak was so long it dragged behind her. It was perfect, and the only thing about her new outfit that she liked. She was about to put the hood of her cloak on but something caught her eye. On her arms glinted two long silver glove like contraptions. They were designed in celtic swirling patterns and curled around either of her index fingers, like long rings. Despite the arm braces being solid metal, they felt like water. They moved easily, and flowed with her. She flicked her wrists. Why exactly? She wasn't sure but, her day couldn't get any stranger than it already was. (She'd find out later how horribly wrong she was,) The braces took on a form of silver molten lava, and then, twin katana blades, Just like the ones in the shop window she'd always wanted to take, but couldn't muster up the courage to even go in that place. She flicked her wrist again, and , as expected, the swords turned back to arm bands.
She looked back at the mirror. It might seem crazy, but this was the first time she'd ever really been able to see her own reflection clearly. The only real "mirror" she'd ever had was the pond by her orchid.
Ugh. The orchid. She winced at the thought of it.
Suddenly she was barely breathing. She could hardly believe she could actually see herself.
Because you have pretty eyes,
His words rang around in her head
Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu,
Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu,
Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu,
"STOP." she told the voice in her head. Why, of all times now?
Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu...
"Watashi... Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu?" she asked aloud.
...Anata wa kanari me o shite imasu... the voice faded away.
She looked at her reflection. What had always been so interesting about her eyes? Every day he'd told her the same thing. "You have pretty eyes." That was the English translation, at least, but this was getting on her nerves. Where did she even learn to speak in English? How did she know this new language was called English? Yesterday, she didn't know any other languages existed.
Whatever. Focus on the task at hand.
She looked back at the mirror.
Now she understood why.
She didn't think her eyes were pretty, to her they just like your everyday, average pair of looking holes, aside from the fact that they were purple. Yeah. Purple. Blue and Green eyes were already rare enough where she came from, but purple? Unheard of. It took her a little while to realize why she had purple eyes, but when she did, it seemed ridiculous that she didn't figure it out right away. She put her hand on mirror. Her reflection did the same thing. She stayed there.
"Setsuzoku," She said.
BOOM!
The entire room shook like an earthquake was happening.
BOOM!
The blast knocked her off her feet and made her ears ring.
BOOM!
She hit her head against the dresser drawer and collapsed, unconcious.
MUAHAHA! SUSPENSE! Soooo, i hope yall liked it, first chapter of the first story, WOOH! Sorry it was kinda short, but what ever. Hopefully you'll stick around to find out exactly who "she" is, and what happens next! BTW, the middle aged guy with blonde hair i mentioned in the photos is ANNABETH'S DAD. Just wanted to clear that up, okay? OKAY! I will try to update weekly, if not sooner. If you are confused with this story so far, then like and comment, because that's what i was going for! Any constructive criticism is accepted, and flames can FLAME ON! ( I have a Leo obsession) I'll just ignore you! :)
Love to all my lovely readers,
~Willow-Tree-Silver~
