The Chronicles Of The Secret Warriors

Chapter 1: the world is a curveball

I wake up, the wind howling in my face. My hair whipping around my face.  As I look around the blue of the water around me lapping at the boat. I can’t remember who I am, where I came from or what to do next. A scream comes from the woods at the lakes ege. A blood curdling scream that rattles my bones and scares me more than the lack of memory to my past. I look around the small boat that I’m on. There's no paddle or oar on the seats around me so start to smack the water with my hand moving slowly towards the shore. About a half hour in my arms start to cramp and stiffen making it hard to continue.

There hasn't been another scream for at least fifteen minutes, so I take a small break, but at the first hit of a scream or shout I would stop and listen to try and figure out how far away they are from me. The next screams comes from farther in the wood than I originally thought, but still close enough to make me worry. As I step into the cold water and grab the front of the boat and pull it to shore. The hard pebbles under my bare feet are smooth and wet.
“Hello?” The emptiness of the woods swallows my cry and makes it hard to know where the screams that lead me to shore are coming from.

The hoarseness of my own voice makes me realise just how dry my mouth and throat are. I ignore them and start though the woods. The twigs and pine needles crunching under my weight. The silence scares me, I may not remember much but I know that the forest should not be this quiet, the lack of bird song or wind through the branches is worrying. I see nothing that might indicate where the screams were coming from or who made them. I look down at myself for the first time and take myself in. The tight blue jeans hugging my legs, the black tank top is ripped and torn, a couple years old if I had to guess. My hand is rough and calloused, but my arms are dark and smooth, exempt for a scare running over the top of my left arm. I can feel something under the skin, it's hard and round. This makes me think that something was put there on purpose.

The lack of shoes making my feet hurt, my toenails are caked in dirt and grime. Looking up I see a tree about twenty-five or thirty feet away, covered in blood. There's no one around to ask but as I get closer I noticed a small knife on the ground. The blade is also covered in blood. Going from the middle of the handle to the butt was a star carved into it. At the end were words that made no sense, I do not understand them as I put the knife in my pocket. I start walking again, the pine needles stabbing my feet making it hard to walk.

I walk for what feels like thousands of miles but in reality must have only been around five or six. It's around then when I come across a paved road. Looking down both sides of the winding paths through the trees I decided to start down the left side.
Walking down the street my mind starts to drift and I'm thinking about how I ended up on that boat. I can’t remember any farther than waking up there but it feels like there should be more, like a scratch in the back of my mind I can’t scratch. My auburn brown hair is still blowing with the wind.

I don’t know how long I've been walking down the road when a red sports car with a white pinstripe pulls up behind me.  The boy inside the car is young, late teens early twenties if I was to guess.  “Tara?” he asks
I look around just to make sure that him and I are the only two around. When I know for sure that there's no one else around I look at him in confusion. “Yes?” I say
He continues “What are you doing out here on your own? So late in the afternoon?”

I look up at the sky, the sun is slowly touching the ground. The world starts to darken and turn to a blue-gray. At the sound of his voice I turn back to him. “Let me take you home” he says “Or at least to your driveway.”

    He looks straight at me and lets me make the destion. I contemplate for a couple of minutes looking around. I have no other options, so I start to open the door thinking that if he kidnaps me or kills me at least I will have some idea on who to trust and not to trust. There's an interesting grind as he moves a stick at the base of a black wheel and the car starts forward. The speed he gets up to is definitely more than what we should be doing but he seems comfortable so I don't camplane.

We go down a very long paved road for about twenty minutes without speaking, then he turns down a dirt road and asks again “What were you doing so far from home alone this late?”

I don't have an answer for him and the one I can give I doubt that he would believe any way, so I stay quiet and stare out the rolled down window and let the wind cool my face and play with my hair.  It's at least another ten minutes of driving before we come to a log house with fences and animals all around us in fields that seem to go on for miles, which honestly looking at them they just might.

“Where are we?” I ask the pleasant surprise evident on my face.
As I turn to look at him the shock on his face is probably worse that the surprise on my own.

He stutters to get words out so it takes him a moment and when he can talk this is what comes out.

“Th..This is you home.” he says in a confused voice.

I look back up to the house with new interest. This is my home I think to myself. How did I end up so far away and what happened to my mind, who was screaming for help? Where do I go from here? As we walk up to the house a dog the size of calves out in the fields. His silvery black coat of fur as it tackles me.

“Riot!” the boy starts screaming at the dog, “Riot, get off her what are you doing?! Get off!” Riot jumps off of me. I stand up laughing, smiling for the first time that I can remember. The boy whose name I still don’t know is holding the oversized dog by his collar and smiling.

“What?” I ask the smile still broad on my face.

“Nothing,” he says “ Just been awhile since you have smiled like that.” He looks down at the dog for a couple of seconds then back at me.

“So…” I start to ask “what kind of dog is he?” The boy looks at me for a moment then says “She’s a wolf-dog. Her mother was a Saint Bernard and her father was a timber wolf.” He pauses for a moment, “You know this, she’s your dog."

I just stare at him. My mind is working overtime to try and figure out who he is, why this dog looks so happy to see me and why we are at this house. I stand looking up the steps to the house. Then I slowly turn my head back to the boy. “Who are you? Where are we and what are we doing here?!”

The shock, scare and worry evident on his face. “I’m Castle, Castle M. Williams. This is your home and I'm just trying to help you. You are Tara Bell Caitlin, you are the daughter of a werewolf alpha and an elven princess. You are the heir of two kingdoms and my best friend.”