[Book 1] The Lost Princess. [PENDING]

The Lost princess.

A young woman comes out of her country house. She observes the vast land on the horizon and sighs, still wondering why her parents needed such a large property? She is not going to complain about it, because at least part of the neighboring forest, the mountain opposite and the whole hill are protected against hunters and other vandals. The young woman then observes the structures built, a stable, a small farm, a well and a country house on two floors, including a rustic attic. She loved coming here, it changed from America's polluted air, at least here the oxygen was purer and excellent for health.

"Sammy-kins!" Calls a voice far too high to be audibly acceptable. "Are you already going for a walk?" It was a well-preserved blonde woman in her fifties who was at the window.
"Yes mom! I'll be back for lunch." Replied the youngest with a smile. Even though she hated the nickname her mother gave her, she love her.
"If you find berries you can bring some? I'd like to try my new pie recipe." She asks, far too cheerful.
"I'll think about it mom."

This woman at the window is Pamela Manson. She is an extroverted woman who never hesitates to give her opinion on anything and everything. She is married to Jérémy Manson, two years younger, a CEO at the head of a ... Cellophane packaging? And the young woman who goes to the stables? The daughter of their union, Samantha Manson. She is 19 years old, is Gothic.The rear part of her long raven hair is held in place by a high ponytail, leaving complete freedom from her locks surrounding her face. She has eyes of an extremely rare color: amethyst, she never had health problems and fortunately. She wears discreet green earrings in the shape of a cross. Her outfit was very banal, a black suspender top with the drawing of a ghost in a floating green universe with purple doors. At her handles she wears two thin black armbands that go with the tight black necklace around her neck. She obviously wears black horse breeches with purple stitching and her riding fields and boots were obviously white. Just kidding, they are black. As a precaution, she wore a jacket which is black and white at her waist.

She enters the stable and puts the halter on the draught horse to get her out of the box and tied to the bar outside. This mare is called Sirocco, she is chestnut with washed hair and is only 7 years old. She is trained for cross and walks and it's entirely sufficient for Sam. The mat, the saddle and the net in place, the Gothic put her foot in the stirrup and go quietly on the path, direction : the forest. Reins completely loose, Sam takes her phone out of her pocket and checks the latest news from her city. She is originally from America, more precisely from Amity Park, where she lives there the rest of the year. This city suits her well despite the pollution and the destruction of flora ... Because she found an interest in this place: the city is the most haunted by ghosts from around the world. The mare stops to graze from time to time, taking advantage of the last moments in the meadow before plunging into the "darkness" of the vegetation. Sam was intrigued by an article in her city's newspaper but only had the time to read the first few lines before the connection was cut. "AMITY PARK PLAGUED BY GHOSTS." So far nothing to worry about. "since last night, dozens of ghosts have appeared in the city and excavation from top to bottom, going so far as to destroy certain structures. According to a survivor, they would seek-" and unfortunately she did not know more. What intrigues her is that ghosts had never attacked humans before, well if for fun but never anything serious. Something was wrong.

Sirocco suddenly stops and turns her head towards the north, his ears pointed forward, the breath hard. Sam puts her phone away and looks at it. "What did you feel?" Ask for Gothic nicely. The mare turns completely and advances through the thickets, decided. The rider lets her do it, she didn't like to upset animals when they were in a kind of trance. The duo enters what appears to be a circle of vegetation. Tall, appetizing grass surrounded immense hundred-year-old oaks. Like a sanctuary ... Sam dismounts and feels a presence, this feeling would run through her back and was not so unpleasant. The mare goes away to eat the grass while her rider observes the place. This place was created, she does not know how but it is unnatural. She approaches the trees and the senses, however real, everything was, but ... In one year it couldn't have grown as much ... Impossible. Sam goes to the center of the sanctuary where she stops, fixing something on the ground. A human body was curled up, clothes were torn, a young girl ... Twelve years perhaps? Sam kneels and takes the child's pulse, her heart was slow ... If we take into account the fact that for a teenager the beats per minute can go up to more than 100, Sam counted ... 42.

She takes off her jacket and lifts the child's body to roll it up. She wore it like a princess and returned to Sirocco who was sitting out to let the rider go up more easily. The position was uncomfortable but no choice ... Sam stands at the mane and leans slightly forward to hold the little girl against her. The mare galloped towards the house on the domain. The return seemed much slower, asking too many questions about the sanctuary and this little one. She watches her. Raven hair in battle, the back of the hair held in a low ponytail. She had pale skin, a low body temperature and she could even imagine frost blue orbs for eyes ... Who is she?