OK. First things first.

You're about to be disappointed, but that's OK, things can't always go your way.

Second, I'm going to have to start from the beginning of a different story, for you to understand the one you currently know. This story isn't about a girl named Vara, or a hunter named Theron, and it definitely isn't about an elf named Justine. That's OK, life will go on. This story is about a boy named Jack.

Jack is the average teen, in appearance at least. Shaggy blonde hair, average height. Average, just average. Except one thing, but we'll get to that in a second. His family is one of the those things in his life that isn't average. He had no parents. At least not his parents. He had been adopted, and it wasn't all that hard for him to figure it out, though he had been adopted at a young age. The parents he knew had blonde hair and they were average height; just average. No something else pointed to his adoption. You see his eyes were special. They were blue, but the iris had a golden ring around it. That was the only thing his birth parents had left him.

Jack was always a stand-offish kid, with few friends. And his eyes made him a bit of a laughing stock sometimes, which did make his life upsetting. And you may be tempted to think this made him upset about life in general. But, that's not true. Jack was quite happy actually. He didn't care what people thought, unlike many teenagers, and that's part of how he had survived school so long. His parents, though not his birth parents, loved him, and he them. He really did have a good life, when he looked past the fact that he would never know his birth parents, and was picked on quite a bit.

The one thing that helped him the most was the fact that his parents were Christians. You may not believe in a god, but whether you do, when you have faith in something, anything it does give you courage. That is a fact.
And of course, Jack was the stereotypical Christian kid. You see, he'd always tried to do the right thing, and hated doing the wrong thing. He always tried to follow his parents rules.

That's why it was so weird that it happened.

He was walking home from school that day. He'd missed the bus, because he'd stayed back with a teacher, and now he had to get home before supper time. Or else his parents would be upset. See, that was one of their rules. So he walked home, jogging through the bad neighborhoods, and finally stopped for a breath in front of his door. But, he got this weird feeling. It wasn't much, just a little tingle, but it almost felt like a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and looked behind him. Nothing, but he now had an overwhelming urge to go back to the end of the sidewalk. So, as any good horror film character would, he did. He looked around in hope that maybe something would happen. He stood there for a few seconds. No monster. No ghost. No neighbor waving hello. Yet, he still didn't feel right. He looked around one last time and turned. The mailbox was open, and there was a letter leaning gently against the side. Jack walked up to the mailbox and pulled it out. It was old looking, really old. So old, it was yellow, and it felt rough like parchment almost. Placed squarely on the front of the letter was a string of flowing calligraphy that read,"forgotten one."

It had been an hour since he'd come inside. He laid on his bed trying not to think about it. But, no matter how much he banished the thought, the letter stared at him from the corner of his little desk. He still felt weird. He just couldn't shake that feeling, and he couldn't quite grasp it either. And worst of all, he couldn't make up his mind as to what to do with it. In a normal situation, he'd just give it to his parents, but this wasn't normal. There was a weird aura that surrounded the entirety of the letter. And, of course,  his mind still told him to give it to his parents, but his heart said throw it away and his gut feeling was overwhelming with the question of what was inside that letter.

He had sat down in bed and tried to do his homework, he had pulled out a book and tried to read, he had even turned on the TV, but no matter what he did, his mind had kept straying back to that letter sitting on his desk. He had gone to open it several times in fact, but every time he stopped. It was like it was calling to him and forbidding him simultaneously, like a locked room.

Now, he sat on his bed, desperately running through his options. He didn't know what to do, how could he? He couldn't think. He had to know, but he felt like something would happen if he did know, and it would be irreversible. He had to. He couldn't. He wanted to. He really shouldn't. What could he do? He got up and walked to the table. He picked it up, and turned it slowly, entranced by it momentarily. It's weird that a simple thing could drive a person crazy. He just couldn't open it, he would have to throw it away. He walked to the trash can and dropped it in. It was like a heavyweight had fallen from his shoulders. Suddenly he felt better. He didn't have to think about it any more. He walked to his bed and plopped down. He stared up at the ceiling. Sleep overcame him and he fell into a deep slumber.

A voice called to Jack. "Wake up! You haven't yet fulfilled your destiny!" Jack sat up quickly and looked around the room for the source of the whispering voice. No one was there. This must be some sort of weird dream.He laid back down, or at least tried. He felt something touch him and he instantly sat back up. He looked around again. The lights were off. Did his mom come in and do that? "Get up!" The whispering voice had returned. Why should I? He thought. "Trust me!" He put his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "Then ignore your destiny, and leave your future behind. It is your choice, after all." It grew strangely silent, then there was another voice. A familiar voice.

"Jack! Supper's ready!" Jack sat back up. The lights were on again.

"That was a weird dream..." Jack whispered trying convince himself that it truly was a dream. He stood up and walked across his room, glancing at his desk as he did so. He opened the door. Something wasn't right, something looked off. He gently closed the door and walked back to his desk. The envelope was sitting on the edge of the desk. At that moment he seemed to have no control any more as to whether he wanted to open it or not. He would have to open it, unless he wanted it to continuously reappear.

"Jack! Are you going to eat or not?" His mother's voice seemed far away.

"Yeah. Give me a second." Jack picked up the letter.

"What did you say? I can't hear you!"

"Give me a sec!" Jack yelled still in a trance like state, staring at the envelope. He traced the words on the front with his finger. Then he flipped the envelope over and quickly tore it open. He stopped and stared at the envelope. It was so strange. He had to know what was in it, but he didn't want to. He pulled the letter out and unfolded it.

“Jack! Your food is going to get cold!”

“I said give me a second! I’m just finishing something real quick!”

He looked at the letter. It wasn’t written in English, yet somehow it felt familiar. As he stared at the words, the strange symbols morphed into recognizable words.

    Forgotten One,

There are too many words to say, and not enough time. You have no choice now, for you have opened the letter. Your destiny is inevitable, though you may choose not to follow it. The doom that shadows your world will kill it, though you can stop it. You may think I speak of the impossible, but impossible is just improbable spelled incorrectly. I speak of the world beyond the one you grew up in, your true world. Bearnear. Your father has put it in danger, and if you don’t come back, all will wither and fade. They need you. She has already arrived, and I know you don’t know who I speak of, so I will give you a name. Chuza. You will know who it is when you encounter her. You will go on a journey. I don’t know where your journey will take you, but you will know where to go. Trust your instincts, and trust your gut. Save your world, your true world. Stop your father from destroying everything I've ever know.

        Good Luck

Jack kept staring at the letter trying to understand it. My true world? Jack set the letter down slowly.

“Jack? What’s wrong? Come get your food!” His mother was still calling him. He should get his food, but what about the letter? What if it was telling the truth?

Jack dug around on his desk and grabbed a pen. He grabbed a random slip of paper and scribbled a note onto it. He folded it up and put it on his bed, then he grabbed his backpack and dumped everything on the ground. He stuffed some clothes in it, and grabbed the letter he had just opened.

“Jack? What are you doing in there?”

Jack looked at the door. He couldn’t leave like this. He grabbed the pen one more time and wrote one last thing on the note. Then he opened his window, and climbed out with his backpack and the letter in his hand. He closed his window, and stared in briefly. Then he climbed over his fence, and started walking down the alley.

Jack’s mother walked into his room. Horror struck her. He was gone! Where had her baby gone?

She walked over to his bed and grabbed the note. Her hands trembled as she unfolded it, she never expected her child to run away, he was such a good boy. And, she  definitely had no clue as to what to do. She read it, slowly. And then read it again, not quite believing the words on the paper.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I have to go, I'll be back, I think. I have to go see my real dad, and stop him from doing something horrible. Don't worry about me.

I'm sorry Mom.