Hi guys! So here I am, posting what was my first ever original story! :D I started writing this years ago, and slowly it migrated from tonnes of notebooks into typed words on the computer. I made a link to a video thats like a trailer for this story on my page. Go check it out :D It has lots of effects on it haha

And seeing how my summary was pretty terrible, here's a better one:

Yasmin Peterson is an ordinary girl. At least, until she starts having visions. Soon enough she is taken to the world of Elestria, a world ruled by the Dark Magic of the Master. With the powers of the Dark Magic growing, she must join with four companions and journey to find the one person that could stop the Master and save both their world and ours from destruction: The Elvish Princess. But is she only a myth... and can they trust all their companions, or do some have pasts too dark to trust?

Even that sucks as a summary. Haha, oh well.

Bare with this chapter, the beginning was never the best for me, but I can't bring myself to butcher it too much from what I originally wrote (sentimental and plus I'm too lazy haha)

So enjoy it! Reviews are grand!

"Yasmin Peterson, if you don't get up now you'll never be ready in time for your bus".

Yasmin was jerked awake by her mother, Gwen Peterson, shaking her shoulder hard.

"Come on get up!" said her mother, throwing open a pair of dark blue curtains on the other side of the room. Although it was still quite early, sunlight was pouring in through the glass.

Yasmin opened her eyes and yawned loudly.

"Goodness what we could fit in there if we tried. Clean uniform on the chair and breakfast is in five minutes so be quick." Mrs. Peterson left her room, shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, Yasmin slumped down and pulled the covers high over her face. Resting for a bit, she reflected on how much she hated Monday mornings. And those blasted curtains that were all the way on the other side of her room!

Stifling another yawn, Yasmin dragged herself out of bed and towards a fresh laundered blouse and skirt draped over the back of an armchair, sitting in the corner of the room.

She dressed quickly and caught sight of herself in her full length mirror.

A tall, blonde figure stared back. She was not skinny or fat, but it didn't matter. One thing did. That her long blonde hair was more like a nest than the wavy form it usually was.

After a couple of minutes battling it out with the hairbrush, Yasmin emerged downstairs in the kitchen for breakfast.

Harry Peterson, her father, was seated at the table, attempting to juggle reading a newspaper, talking on his mobile phone and eating pancakes all at the same time. Usually though, when he juggled he ended up dropping one of the balls. Part of a pancake slid off his fork before it reached his mouth. Instead it left a large maple syrup stain on his clean business shirt. Asking the person if he could call back, he put everything down, gave Yasmin a quick 'good morning' and hurried out of the room to find a clean shirt. Smiling slightly at the typical behavior of her father, Yasmin took a place at the breakfast table and began to pull pancakes onto her plate.

Mrs. Peterson was placing dirty pans and dishes into the dishwasher, while humming the tune from East Enders, an annoying habit of hers seeng how they put up with enough of it when she actually watched the show itself every day like clockwork.

The little kitchen was warm and cozy. Above the window hung a crystal wind chime, which caught the sunlight and sent specks of rainbow cascading across the ceiling.

"Yasmin call up to your brother please," Mrs Peterson asked as she sipped her tea and placed some more bread into the toaster.

"No need," said a small scruffy boy. Wandering into the kitchen like a recently awoken zombie, Jake took a slice of toast and began to sink his teeth into it.

Yasmin rolled her eyes and then averted them so she would have to watch the toast be turned to moosh inside the portal her brother called his mouth. Instead, she focused on the pancakes set before her, distracting her momentarily from sharply telling her bother to close the trap door when he ate.

Her parents told her to be as nice as she could to Jake, that he was just going through a typical stage in life that all thirteen year old boys do. "Yasmin leave your brother alone. He's growing up, be happy for him." It was hardly her fault for getting mad at everything he did, since it involved a disaster at her end every single time.

She'd already given up on the list of what disasters he was already responsible for, there were just too many to count.

Jake awoke her from her quick daydream, which involved her sending him to another world, through a shower of crumbs, "Yaz, pass me the orange juice"

"Say please." Yasmin shoved a forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

Jake glared at her. "Now"

"Say please"

"Do you enjoy doing this to me?"

"I feel justified"

Jake gave her a dark stare before reaching across for the juice himself. Yasmin took her empty plate and put it in the dishwasher. For a while she stood by the sink, watching out the window.

Outside, a river ran behind the garden walled off by an age worn set of chipped and cemented stones. Weeds grew between the cracks in a small stone pathway, skipping it's way around the garden and grass that desperately needed cutting. Gazing out into the garden, Yasmin pictured it well trimmed and blooming brightly with flowers, strolling slowly down the path hand in hand with her grandmother. Yasmin had always been incredibly close to her grandmother, and felt that she had always understood her better than anyone, so even at 16 there was no shame in holding your grandmothers hand.

Her Gran's recent passing had left a large hole in Yasmin's heart that ached every time she remembered that she was gone. She could still picture their last time together, sitting on the wall with their feet hanging over the river.

"Yasmin honey"

"Yes Gran," Yasmin saw the wrinkles form a sorrowful expression. She clasped he Gran's hand.

"You know…" struggling to find the words, "I won't be round much longer sweetie"

The wrinkled face took time to see her surroundings, as if studying them for what would be her last time. Yasmin saw the deep blue eyes take in everything; from even the smallest tree, to the wide fields speckled with occasional wildflowers that led to the woodland of thick trees on the other side of the river. They followed the breaking clouds in the sky, the petals picked up on the wind from the rose bush. Then they fixed a gaze into Yasmin's own.

"I want to tell you that when I'm gone," she said, "That if ever you are in serious trouble and need help, the woods is your refuge," and then she looked out into the woods over the field to show her where.

"Gran, why?"

Gran squeezed tighter on Yasmin's hands. "Promise me that you'll look after the place. You're the big girl here and I want you to look after your family. Promise?"
Puzzled, Yasmin nodded.

It had been almost a year since, and Yasmin still found herself asking the question "What did she mean?"

Suddenly a tea towel hit Yasmin in the back of the head. She abruptly turned around to find an amused younger brother of hers sneering at her. "You alright hollow head or have the gypsies stolen whatever brain you have again?"

The towel hit him full force in the face.

"Yasmin," her mother was leaned against the cabinets with tea in hand, "Just ignore him, he's just trying to create trouble." She then glanced sharply at Jake, "And you leave your sister alone"

Jake leaned back against his chair. "Yes mother" he muttered sheepishly.

"Now go and get ready you two. The bus will be here soon!"

Yasmin was all too glad to leave the presence of here brother, only to meet him again in a few minutes later as he dashed into the bathroom they shared at the last second before she went to use it, not failing to yell "Haha" as he did so.

How she would love at some point to smack that ignorant grin off his face.

Despite being four years older than him, he still had the upper hand at strength from all of his physical after school activities. But one day…

After ten minutes of getting ready, and a lot of pushing from Gwen who fussed about everything like a mother should do, both siblings emerged from their house ready in time for their bus.

"Move," Jake said as he pushed past her. Typical, he had to be the first one of them two getting onto the stupid bus.

Mondays, she thought as she stepped onto the bus herself, I hate them.


"So, are you joining?" This was Zena, one of Yasmin's best friends.

It was lunch. Half of a terrible Monday was already over, to her immense relief. It had been no joy in Physics class when the creepy Mr. Sanders slapped another test down on her desk marked C-, nor the glare she had received from him either. Gym was a barely tolerable picnic either from her point of view, dangling high off the floor from a rope with nothing keeping you from falling but your bare hands, with all eyes staring at you.

Tossing a half eaten apple that had been browned by the air and disinterest, Yasmin pulled a few strands of hair out of her eyes.

"I don't know Zena. I'm no good at sports or anything like that, so why would I join a team I could just get kicked out of again for being lousy?"

"Yaz…," this was Sally, another best friend, "We're all joining, and it doesn't matter if you can't do archery. I man seriously, I heard even Lorenz is trying out." Lorenz was a fellow classmate, famed for his steriotypical dress of a nerd, and abnormally pale and weak physical build.

The wind picked up in the courtyard, tossing Yasmin's and Sally's hair around. Brushing her dark hair back behind her ears, Sally glanced enviously at Zena's curly red hair which had been pulled back into a stylish and attractive bun that Hs no been rustled at all by the wind.

"Come on, please," Zena put on a pathetic face.

Yasmin raised an eyebrow at her. "You're not going to let me NOT join are you?"

"No, she won't," Josh opened his eyes, ran his hand through his raven black hair and pulled himself up from sunbathing into a sitting position. "She will pester you forever more until you do join," he said, and Zena gave him an evil look from the corner of her eye that made Yasmin want to laugh. Her three friends were always like this.

Zena then shrugged and took a swig of her smoothie before nodding. "He's right you know."

"You guys. You know I'm absolutely pathetic at all sports."

"We know," Josh said, "We can still remember Gym."

Yasmin shot him a sideways glance.

"Come on, please…" whined Sally, droning on the e's.

Yasmin threw her hands up in defeat. "All right I give. I'll join. But it'll be all of your heads when I embarrass myself because the arrow doesn't even reach the target"

All three of her friends gave a cheer.

"Knew you'd go for it. And don't worry 'bout the target. If you really can't reach it then we'll be sure to move it forward a little… Just a few hundred feet." Josh teased.

Yasmin reached down and slapped his arm.

"Wow," he rubbed where she had hit him, "You are weak!"

Groaning, Yasmin buried her head in her arms.

"Ignore him, he's not that strong himself anyway," Zena said reaching over to Josh's other arm, which seemed sufficiently moe tned than theirs.

"You dissing these?" Josh pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and flexed his arm, straining his muscles which weren't huge but were at least visible. "Ha, look at that!"

"Whatever Mr. Hotshot," Sally told him, giggling with Zena.

"He has a point," Yasmin lifted up her head. "He has those and I…" she raised her own arm "…have sticks"

"Sticks are good," Sally commented.

"Thanks," was the sarcastic reply she got.

The bell rang and the courtyard began to fill with students carrying their books and heading off to their next classes. Very soon the four had joined the sea of people and were making their way to their next subject too.



The ruler made a very sharp split sound as it hit the desk.

"Pay attention!" Mrs. Hurst roared. Her nostrils flared, wide eyes with drooping eyebrows searing with total rage. A grumpy teacher during the last class of Monday. Typical.

It was the last lesson of the day, and no-one in the class seemed particularly bothered to do any of their work.

"Ronald's, sit up!" A scruffy haired boy repositioned himself squarely on his seat instead off dangling half off it like he had been 'til now.

Mrs. Hurst's hawk eyes scanned the room.

"Shall I even bother to teach you this class?"

She took her ruler and sharply tapped it against the whiteboard. It was Mathematics, and they were studying quadratic and algebraic formula's. The warm breeze that blew gently in through the window was sending the class into a daydreaming slumber, which meant candy for a kid with sweet tooth for old Mrs Hurst.

"Since you're all drifting off in my class, I will then assume that you know all this and I will give you the sheet to quietly work through then".

She presently pulled out a small stack of photocopied papers and began to hand them out.

"I expect this to be completed and CORRECT by the end of class. If not, you will then do it after class. Any objections to this?," she asked. Her eyes silenced everyone as they flipped over their page and began to work.

Yasmin turned hers over and was immediately drowned by a blur of questions in a tidal wave of numbers and diagrams. She quickly flipped it back again.

Yasmin was lucky enough to have been seated next to the window, so instead of tackling the paper she just watched the effect the sunlight had through the leaves of the tree just outside as it dappled on her hand. She leaned onto her other arm, gazing out the windows at the gently rustling branches of the tree. Without thinking, her mind began to drift away from class. She could still hear the annoying scratching of pencils, the ruffling of paper and tapping on calculator keys though.

And something else…

It was a crackling, like fire burning around a campfire. She looked up worried, with the echo of fire in her ears. No one else even glanced up from their sheets. Couldn't they hear it at all? What if there was a fire in the school?

Then there came a long hollow drone, like wind whistling through a empty and silent cave. The noises were deafening, but no-one else reacted. Yasmin felt a very strong urge to cry out, but instead she just stared down at her desk trying to block out the droning in her ears as it continued.

She had obviously just drifted off too far into a daydream, or it was normal and she was just overreacting. That would be so typical of her.

Suddenly, her desk, the class and everyone in it just dissolved into a inky black abyss. Yasmin was completely alone, jumping to her feet when the chair under her disappeared. The feel of the darkness pressing down was choking. Her heart's pulse shot up like a rocket, as she spun side to side, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Where was she? What was this?

Uttering a small cry, it didn't seem to carry very far into the dark. Yasmin turned to see a door that had appeared behind her, slightly ajar with a warm glow creeping around the edges of the frame. She headed towards, hoping it would be better than trying to stumble in the gloomy blackness.

The hollow sound of echoing wind whistled past her ears , this time accompanied by a cold gust that wrapped around her shoulders and made her shiver horribly.

She reached the door and crept through the gap, half wondering if this was a good idea. She had no idea what was happening, any moment feeling like her legs might give way in panic.

The room on the other side of the door was huge and grand, or most of it was though half was encased in shadows. A large armchair sat facing a grand fire place, which is where the sound of the fire was coming from. The chair was so colossal that it was responsible for casting most of the room into the shadows.

A small figure knelt nest to the chair, a hunched figure that seemed tiny compared to the enormity of the armchair, was all that Yasmin could perceive. She couldn't see him well, the flickering fire not illuminating him well enough, and she was too terrified of going over.

The kneeling man spoke.

"Sire…" His voice was high and sounded like it could crack in terror at any moment, "…it is almost time. We can act soon, begin our search. Then our victory will be ensured and none can stop us." He paused with a series of shallow short breaths.

Yasmin now stood entranced, as a thin knobbly hand, with long sharpened nails, stretched out to the kneeling man. His voice was pure ice when he spoke.

"Then tell me…" he ran a finger over the man's brow, "Did you deal with that meddling rebel, Cloud?"

"W-w-well no. He escaped u-um S-s-sire," the other began to stutter, voice cracking.

The hand withdrew.

"Ah, so our security has become slack has it?"

"N-No Sire! He just managed to slip through our grasp for now. But we can retrieve him."

The hand sharply shot out, and grabbed the man's chin. He cried out in pain as the razor pointed nails dug deep into his skin. From her terrified position at the back, Yasmin did her best not to cry out, wondering whether to slip back out the door before she was noticed.

The voice hissed at the man, with a dangerous edge of steel, "I want that boy. He is to be caught and brought to me immediately, so I can deal with him. He is the only one in this entire kingdom who knows too much." The hand released the grip it held.

"Cloud must be dealt with as soon as possible."

The hunched man gave a small sob, gripping his face where the nails had held. He spoke, "If I may… Sire? But what does this boy really know? What is so bad about a mere boy that he could ruin you plan?"

The man hidden in the chair took some time to answer. Then he spoke, in such a quiet voice Yasmin almost didn't hear, "He knows where to find the princess."

The kneeling man jumped to his feet. "I will double our efforts immediately!"

Yasmin took a step back. She didn't like this. A dull throb of fear had begun to grow and pound in her throat, making breathing a difficulty. She turned for the door, intending to slip out quietly, but her arm caught the corner of a table. It unbalanced a delicate object perched on the table, and sent it crashing to the floor.

Her heartbeat raced again, and Yasmin gave a terrified glance over to the chair. This was a dream; those people probably couldn't see her.

But the man who was standing obviously could, because he took a step towards her. His face was hidden by shadows as he turned away from the glow of the fire, but his voice was filled with anger.

"You! Who are you!?" he roared at her, starting for her.

She gave a shriek, and ran through the door, squeezing her eyes shut.

A moment later she opened them again with a thudding heart, to someone shaking her shoulder hard.

It was Mrs. Hurst.

"Miss Peterson, are you okay?" Yasmin looked around her, seeing the classroom was back.

The entire class was staring at her, wide eyed from their seats. She took a deep breath in and out to steady herself, and leant over the desk.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I just have this awful headache." It was't exactly a lie, a dull ache was beginning to pound in her head.

"You may go to the nurse's office. Don't worry about your work. It must be this blasted heat." Mrs Hurst sounded a little distant to Yasmin.

"Thank you," Yasmin replied, gathering her books up and leaving the room with all eyes following her.

She could barely even think straight as she ran down the hall, straight for the nurses office.

The cooling blast of the air-conditioner was welcoming, and she stopped her running pace. Handing the nurse Mrs Hurst's note, she gave Yasmin a concerned look.

"You alright dearie?" she asked.

Yasmin nodded. "Better than I was"

The nurse smiled, and directed Yasmin into another little room, where she sat onto one of the hard beds. Thrusting a plastic cup of water into Yasmin's hand, the nurse left the room.

Yasmin sat there in the air conditioned room, blankly gazing at the creamy white wall. Her hand was shaking, badly, the water sloshing inside the cup. Her heart beat had slowed, but her mind raced faster than ever.

What had that been in the classroom? It had scared the life out of her. She shook her head now, to try ridding the image of the chair, the room, the kneeling man, and what frightened her the most. The skeletal hand, or icy voice that it belonged with. Even now she felt the shivers down her back.

She took a sip of the water, and gradually her hands stopped shaking.

Keep reading! I promise more excitement is just around the corner!! :D :D And reviews are grand! *hint hint*