An Unfortunate Meeting, Really

Chapter One

On a crisp, October morning, cars roared by as pedestrians walked along the sidewalks and across the crosswalk, maybe to work or to the several dozen shops within the district. The hot air filtered up from the ventilation grates underneath their feet, causing some dress-wearers to become Marilyn Monroe for a second or two. The mixed smells of exhaust and pastries wafted themselves to each and every inviting nose.

Milo finished talking to a friend at the crosswalk, right as the cross sign appeared, then ran across, waving at them. She slowed to a walk and clutched her straw hat, while looking around at all the people around her. Some were in suits, while others were in casual wear, like shorts and t-shirts. She took a right at an intersection and arrived at a quaint, little shop by the name of "Barnaby's Baker's Dozen". The door swung open with a 'ding-a-ling-a-ling' from the bell and she was met with a variety of smells and from those smells, one could nearly taste what flavor the last batch was. Sometimes, the scent was vanilla cream rolls, other times, it was pretzel buns. No matter what the day's smell was, everything smelled amazing.

For some, this life was everything they needed; it felt homely. The hustle and bustle, a popular restaurant or bakery around the corner, or the putrid smell of gasoline, the city had it all. New Sangton was a popular city among businesspeople and ordinary people who wanted a more productive life. Some of the buildings were topped with grass and trees and it was a hotspot for tourists, due to their impeccable transportation system and in Downtown New Sangton, their vices.

Just on the outskirts of Northwestern New Sangton is a small woods, which is usually filled with colorful, falling leaves at this time of year, covering the dirt trails, deep into the woods. In the very center of it, the trees grow so close to each other, it nearly blocks out all sunlight that tries to filter in. Even in the high hours of the day, the sun looked like an unplugged tv in the attic, covered with a dusty quilt; dark. In the lighter portions, the gentle psithurism coaxes one into a state of relaxation as the leaves spring off their branches and lay gently on the ground.

A soft, but audible, whistle rang out, like a distant train whistle. The whistle only began to gain momentum over several seconds, to the point of being unbearable and inescapable. It grew louder and louder, as well as sharper, cutting through the air like mozzarella. A vertical crack sliced through the air, upwards, then split open, revealing a colorful emptiness of black, dark blue, and dark purple. A woman tumbled out, causing a thick, glowing book to fly out of her hand, landing spine up. She leapt up from the roll and barely caught herself, stumbling. She looked around and sighed, rubbing her horned head, making sure to go around them. As she brushed herself off and picked the book up, she mumbled to herself. She straightened herself and the crack vanished with a 'fffwip!'.

The girl looked around from her spot more and didn't recognize the place at all. She opened the large book, paging through several pages, then stopped on a page, near the middle of the book. She closed her eyes, thinking of a flowered field with a hut in the distance, then muttered, "Volo ire in domum suam". After a couple seconds, she opened her eyes and nothing changed. She tried saying it again, but nothing happened. She flipped to another page and held the book in her left hand, while outstretching her right arm, with her elbow slightly bent. As she read, then recited the text with her eyes closed, she made a circle and diagonal line with her two middle fingers. With her index and middle finger, she drew an opposite, diagonal line, before forming her hand into a claw-like fashion, spinning the circle and balling her hand into a fist. She opened her eyes and saw she was still in the same position. She snapped the book shut and squeezed it in silent rage, before cooling off.

"Great," she muttered, "The Tome doesn't work in... wherever I am."

She sniffed the air and looked northwest, flipped the Tome in her hand, so the spine was against her palm and the book was close to her leg, then set out. As she walked, the wind blew through the trees and the leaves fluttered their way down to the ground. Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. There was absolute silence, besides the whisper of the wind and the shuffling leaves. The girl sniffed the air again, then heard a noise. She jolted her head around, grabbing the hilt of a knife that was being held in place with her pant hem and hip. She heard the noise again and was all turned around, trying to locate the intruder. She smelled them, but didn't see them...