Jane Marie Smith stared at the ceiling tiles of her language arts classroom, wishing the

rain would stop. She had plans for this afternoon; there was a fantasy fan club meeting after

school. Problem was, she would have to walk home afterwards; something she really didn't want

to do. She closed her eyes. Reopening them, she surveyed the class from behind her glasses. Her

eyes fell upon the mirror in the corner of the classroom, sending back her image. Her honey-

brown pixie cut was in need of a trim; the back was starting to grow out again. She was the

picture of a fantasy nerd, maroon peasant top, tight blue jeans, and brown leather boots with

archer braces to match. Her green eyes sparkled with subdued mischief and intelligence, her

skinny shoulders brought out her pointed chin, and, while slightly flat-chested, she was quite

pretty.

The final bell called the last of the students into the classroom. Jane Marie glared at the

new students, glad to see the look of surprise on their faces at being challenged by a 5' 2" nerd.

One though, with slate gray eyes, held her gaze long enough to make her break eye contact. Eyes

downcast as he walked by, she noted the ankle length leather boots with silver buckles. Once he

passed, she turned to see the rest of his outfit.

Black leather trench coat, black jeans; had she caved to a punk? She shuddered at the

thought. His hair looked that way, long and a shade of navy blue that verged on black, pulled

back into a ponytail that reached half way down his back. As he turned to sit down, a flash of

green drew her attention to his shirt. It was a deep forest green, almost something one would

wear to a formal occasion. In fact, Jane Marie thought to herself, lose the weird hair and the

trench coat, he could be any of the people she hung out with at the fantasy fan club. Pushing him

from her thoughts, she picked up the paper she had been writing for the club meeting. Surveying

it, she nodded her approval. Completely in Elvish, it described the plot of her favorite book of all

time, The Fellowship of the Ring. There was only one thing left to do on it; she signed her

Elvish name; Ithilfea.

Jane Marie hated her name. It was so plain, so boring. Like her. So she changed it,

changed it to something unusual, different. Something that described who she was under the

fantasy nerd coating.

* * *

Five minutes had passed, as well as the introduction of their sub, when a small bomb

exploded. Looking up from Bilbo's farewell, Ithilfea was pleased to see the teacher haraging one

of the Goths. She was even more pleased to discover that it was Tianna; one she personally

despised. Grinning, she slipped the piece of paper that slid out of her old leather bound book into

her pocket, not noticing the flash of gold as the book was pushed aside.