Prologue

On the desk, a glorious scene rested, depicting a rugged wilderness by a lake. Standing on the lake was a boat, and by the boat, four figures- two of which were very short and stout, one was tall and graceful, and the last one was between the heights of the others, with a bow in his hand. The pain-staking detail on the picture was evident- not a single leaf was left on a tree without shading.

With a heavy sigh, Katie added the finishing touches to one of the hobbit's hair. She made it blonde, like she had always pictured it. The candle nearby flickered with the force of her sigh. Katie could have easily turned a lamp on, but she liked the mood the candle gave her, even if the smoke filled the room. Normally, she would light incense to keep the smell bearable, but her father had gotten angry at her and taken away her allowance that week.

Katie carefully set her pencil down, admiring her work. "Not bad..." she murmured to herself, having no one else to talk to. "Not finished yet, but not too terribly bad." She gently placed the picture inside of a drawer, so that it wouldn't get ruined by some freak accident. She glanced down at what remained on her desk- the white candle that was half-melted from constant use. A pack of cheap matches she jacked from a hotel. Her art kit, which had been given to her 3 years ago and never replaced... she couldn't color anything purple or black anymore. Her imaginary wand, made of yew wood, 10 inches long. And there on her desk was The Knife.

Katie turned away, struck with guilt. Why was that knife still on her desk...? She had washed it off the night before, still remembering how morbidly fascinated she had been when the water turned bright pink as it had flowed down the steel blade. The bandage she had wrapped around her wrist was a constant reminder of how she had nearly surrendered, and just thinking about it made her woozy. She carefully picked up The Knife and, holding it at an arm's length, tossed it out the window into the bushes below.

Now feeling sick, Katie sat down on her bed, staring glumly at her hands. Part of her screamed, 'Why do you do this to yourself? Just get it over with! Will you follow that knife out the window or something?!' Lucky for her, her rational thought argued, 'I can't give up. What if I manage to....' 'You call yourself rational? There's no chance of you being able to find magic. NEVER.' Katie struggled with herself, wishing for some way out that didn't include death. Unable to find one, she blew out the candle and tried to sleep, the exhausting mental battle raging in her dreams.

The next day, she stayed home, claiming to be too sick to go to school. A half-truth... like so many other things. She personally justified it by considering herself way too mentally sick to go to school. Her mother tried to persuade her to stick through it and put up with it, and ended up shouting and stamping off to work. Katie made a useless gesture at the slammed door, and went upstairs to her room. Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, she struck a match, cursing at it as the head broke off. She jerked out a new match, struck it, and lit the candle. She jammed the pack of matches into her pocket angrily, swearing revenge. She carefully laid out her picture. Then she froze.

Next to her candle, The Knife rested, gleaming wickedly in the firelight. Katie backed away slowly. Hadn't see thrown it outside, just last night? She felt terrified as she looked at it. A feeling came over her... 'Does it want to kill me? It does.... it wants to take my blood, doesn't it?' 'Why don't you let it? It's as merciful a way to go out as any....'

"NO!" Katie heard herself shouting. She grabbed some clothes and threw them into her backpack. Blowing out the candle, she swept items off of her desk- art kit, candle, wand, and some knickknacks she didn't notice before. She hurled the knife to the floor, and carefully placed the picture in her portfolio of artwork and lovingly into her pack. Biting back tears, she zipped up her backpack, grabbed her money and some jewelry she could sell, and thundered downstairs and out the door, hoping that she could leave her life behind if she ran fast enough.

The constant rocking back and forth had gone from comforting, to annoying, to endless. A small figure peered over the edge of the boat, an elven archer behind him.

Bilbo looked out across the dark-colored lake, seeing no end to it. "I can't even see where we came from- haven't been able to for weeks. Where does this lead, I wonder?" he asked Legolas. The taller elf shrugged.

"I do not know... I suppose we will find out. It is for us to find the path, and to follow it... not to foresee it." Legolas said philosophically as he looked up. A figure taller then both of them walked up, accompanied by another hobbit.

"Now, I try to never look back... but I feel that there is something terribly wrong at home, and we've only just now left." Gandalf said, eyes looking troubled. Frodo wore an odd expression.

"It isn't going to reach the Shire, will it? Oh, turn back! If Sam's hurt...."

"We cannot turn back. At least, not without magical help that we do not know of. The currents of the water are leading us." Legolas said regretfully. "Whatever we can- or can't- do to help, we'll have to depend on it coming from wherever it is we're headed."

Just then, a cry went up. "What is it? What has happened?" Frodo asked excitedly, unable to understand the flurry of elven words.

"Land, someone has spotted land!" Bilbo grinned. "I think we'll discover soon if we can get back or not."

So it was, that one day, a strange ship landed on an abandoned beach in the West Coast. No one noticed it's coming, except for one lonely girl, looking for an escape from her world....

Katie looked at The Knife in incredible disbelief. It glittered on the ground. "This can't be coincidence.... I go nearly 50 damn miles away from home, and it still follows me." She trembled, unsure of what to do. She carefully picked up the knife, and a wash of cold, dark emotion fell over her.

She looked out at the sea, noting a black speck of a boat out at sea. Probably a fishing boat. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. Katie carefully removed the bandage from her arm. She saw the shallow cut from before, healed over and testifying to her ineptitude.

'This time, I'll make it count....' She thought angrily. Still, something seemed wrong. She glanced up. The black speck was getting larger at an incredible rate. Katie went cold. 'Why are they coming here? There's no dock here! Is it possible they know what I'm going?' 'Then do it fast! Or you can go home....' Her mind made, she pressed the knife to her wrist, eyes shut tight.