The Fae's Traveler

Chapter One

- "It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door,' he used to say. 'You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.'" - J.R.R. Tolkien

There's an old folk legend that when something in your life is about to change, whether, for the better or worse, you can feel it. It can feel like a lead weight in your stomach or an inkling in the back of your mind, an overwhelming sense of dread, or even a sixth sense. I call bullshit. The day my life changed forever started as normal as any other, the monotony that I had come to know and hate was ever-present. There was nothing out of the ordinary that day; no pit in my stomach or an uneasy feeling as the hair rose on the back of my neck. Although, I should be happy that I had no warning. I'm glad that there was no one around to prevent me from helping the woman who would change my fate. Honestly, where would I have ended up without her?

Waking up at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, I rushed through my morning routine so that I could get to work on time. Although I didn't know why I was in such a hurry; on time or not, I knew my boss would still find some reason to belittle me, seeing as it was his favorite pastime. I ran down the stairs, my fingers rushing through my tangled brown locks. I grabbed my keys before bolting outside, only to find my car had a flat; I had no spare. The early morning air was brisk with low fog, last night's rain having become nothing more than mist. I stood outside, staring at my old beat-up Toyota with dread. With a huff of aggravated breath, I gave in to the inevitable and slid into the driver's seat. I lived a half-hour from the tiny grocery store where I worked and knew I would be cold and wet by the time I got there since the A/C was broken and always blowing, but there was no other option. The drive had me zoning out and my mind began to wander.

I had moved to the city the day I turned eighteen and never looked back. I lived in foster care for most of my teenage life, bounced from home to home. It hadn't been a hard choice to venture out on my own; I was used to being alone. It was only at times like this that I wished I had family or friends to call on. I was more than a bit of an introvert though, I was perfectly happy to live my life through my books and TV shows. Which ultimately made it hard to find someone who didn't snicker at my geeky ways. Many would find the way I lived unhealthy, and even I'll admit at times it probably is, but when you've suffered life in the dark with very little to live for, sometimes fantasy is better than reality.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I sighed in defeat as I switched off the ignition. Leaving the confines of my rundown car, I lifted my hood over my head and rushed across the lot with my feet beating against the wet pavement, my socks already drenched through my thin canvas shoes. The sky was dark and gloomy with heavy gray clouds covering it like a veil. In the distance, I could see the store's neon sign glowing through the morning fog. The bold letters of "Terry's Stop-N-Go" flickered in and out as I stepped up to the automatic doors, the mechanical whizzing as they opened was a sound I had come to recognize as easily as I did my breathing.

I had worked at the family-owned grocery store for four years, and it didn't feel like I would ever escape. Mike, the store manager, had given me a job when no one else would. I had been a fresh-faced teenager with no experience and no family. I thought he was being kind and taking a chance on me, little did I know he was an asshole who liked his women on the young side. Luckily, I was able to take care of myself. Handling his advances was easy for a girl who grew up in foster care. It was probably the reason he hated me; his fragile male ego couldn't handle being constantly rejected. I shook off the small pebbles of rain that dotted my worn jacket and pulled it off, rushing toward the two empty registers situated at the front of the poorly lit store. I tossed my jacket in the cubby under the register and took my name tag from my pocket, snapping it on my bright red shirt. How I hated the apple red uniformed t-shirt employees were forced to wear.