The story of Meg, a (different) girl selected for a sinister purpose.
Meg sat staring at the bottom of the bunk bed above her. She had just awoken from a horrifying nightmare, and was feeling slightly depressed. She had had terrible headaches earlier that day, and still wasn't feeling great. Her parents said it was migraines, but Meg knew it was something else, something sinister. After all, migraines didn't give you dreams filled with murderous demons.
Meg wasn't exactly a normal girl. It wasn't that she was weird- she just thought differently than all the others. Her friends, peers, teachers, even her family, thought she was strange, but Meg couldn't get it across to them (through their thick skulls, she often thought) that her ways were easier.
But, no. Shortcuts are bad and they only get you screwed over in the long run, they always told her. Oh, yeah? she always wanted to say, Then why in the world do shrtcuts constantly put me in the top ten? She never said it, though. She wasn't one to brag, and she disliked being the center of attention. Maybe that was why they all thought she was freaky...
As she lay in her bunk, Meg realized she was sweating, and peeled off her comforter and topsheet, finally free of confining blankets. It was a chilly Floridian night, and even with the AC all the way up the way her father liked it, it was still at least eighty degrees inside the camper- Ah, she thought. Good, cool air. Suddenly, Meg had a thought. She glanced around, looking at her two siblings and her parents, and, after making sure they were all sound asleep, slipped out the door.
The outside air was much cooler than the stuffy air of the camper, so she decided to go for a walk. It was only when she saw how dark the sky was that she realized it was still the middle of the night. Why not? she figured. Nobody's out right now, that just makes for an even better walk... How wrong she was.
She climbed back into the camper, careful not to make the top step squeak like it usually did. She dug through her bag- she was the only one that was still unpacked, all the others had put their clothes, shoes, and everything else in drawers- until she found her trusty pair of denim shorts and a white tank top. Perfect walking clothes.
Once she got outside, she glanced over to the sign at the edge of their 'road'. General Ridge. Plain white letters with a black background. Why can't life be that simple? she mused, not paying any attention to where she was going, and before long, she found herself sprawled on the ground, a large mass on top of her. She was struggling to breathe, and her vision was going quickly. Just as she heard footsteps running towards her, Meg felt her eyes roll back, and everything was black.
1) A Dramatic Escape
Why me? fifteen-year-old Meg thought as she made her way through the dense forest. Of all the people in the world to choose to be a makeshift sorceress, why does it have to be me? I didn't even have the really cool powers. It had been a year and a half since the fatal accident... well, not really an accident. After all, she specifically had been chosen for the job. A fatal accident to all but those informed. And she, unfortunately, hadn't been informed until after the deed was done.
To her former resident world, the non-magical world, she had been hit by a still-unidentified drunk driver. To the underworld, she had been viciously murdered by the lead demon Wikasi. To her new resident world, the world of magic, she had been chosen as a fill-in witch, the permanent replacement of High Sorceress Orsusa, who had gone missing in the battle at Madide.
Of course, the moment she had arrived at the Pearly Gates (oddly enough made of recycled materials), she had been informed that she wasn't really dead. This was just the "subway station" between the worlds- and a place to visit loved ones that were purely normal, with no special purpose other than the one they had fulfilled (or not) while they had been earth-bound.
Then they had stuck her in some sort of vortex and sent her off. Who were 'they'? The guards at the Pearly Gates (also known as GEMs- General Enforcement Managers). As Meg ducked through the trees, she remembered how they had all seemed the same, how all of them had had the same blank, vacant expression on their faces... except one. He had looked a bit younger than the others, maybe her age. He had given her a meaningful look, and when she had failed to recognize him, he had looked puzzled at first, then flat-out scared. Obviously, Meg thought, he had mistaken me for someone else.
She had soon found herself in a large white room, void of furniture and any other frivolities. There were no windows, although there was one door. It was white as well, and had a white frame with no decorations. As she turned around, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she had turned around and kneed the offender in the stomach, only to realize, too late, that the woman seemed to be an older version of herself. I'll try to remember to give myself more time in the future.
"Who are you?" Meg had managed to breathe out.
"I believe you know who I am," the woman had replied coldly, and as she turned her head to give Meg a heartless look, several bruises and burns became evident along her right cheek. Note to Self: Whoever the hell did this to me is gonna pay. Big time.
Meg had followed the woman out of the room, and, for a year and a half, had been a good girl. She had cured the peasants of starvation and had rid several villages and cities of demons with her newly acquired skills. But after a long time, this had become tiring, and Meg had gotten bored being the hero.
So she decided to be a rebel instead.
She had started wearing elf-made clothing to ceremonies rather than the usual synthetic silk that her fellow magicians had created with complex spells. All the time, she was putting the rights of giants or centaurs or the unicorns far above those of humans. Of course, this had earned her much respect from the leaders of said formerly unprotected groups, but the human portion of the magical world had grown to resent her. Even the demons, once they figured out Wikasi hadn't killed Meg, wanted her out of the way- and they were all for corrupted leadership.
Eventually, her people had gotten sick of her, had replaced her while she was away at a centaur public meeting. When she returned to the palace, she discovered that they intended to hang her for treason and ignoring human rights.
It was quite a sight, what happened next. Visualize a young woman standing dumstruck in the middle of a large chamber, crumpling to her knees, The "rebels" that had convinced someone to step into her place grinned to each other. The high queen was gone! She had given in!
But, no. Meg had something more in mind than to simply crumple to the ground. Something a little more... sinister. As soon as she thought the word, she questioned herself. Sinister? She hadn't used that word since her night at the Recyled Material Gates. A year and a half. Then she flashed back into reality. Meg suddenly stood up and thrust three spells at the men surrounding her: levitation, ice, and ticklish feet. She wasn't sure why she threw in that last one, but it was the one that came to mind- and it seemed rather effective.
Then she shoved aside the hysterically laughing, floating, slowly freezing over bodies, and raced two steps at a time up the stairs to gather things to pack for her trip. Actually, she just used a shrinking spell on the entire wardrobe and her bed and stuck it all in her pocket, but Meg will tell anybody anytime it took her ten long, overstressful minutes to pack her bag. (The liar.)
Meg flew (in a metaphorical sense, of course) to the window and whistled loudly. Her friend Pegana was a winged horse, daughter of Pegasus and Regialiana, and would be glad to help her out- especially after the laws Meg had passed forbidding winged horses to be used as packmules. Surely enough, Pegana was at the window in a flash. She looked panicky.
"High Queen Meg- the people are gathered around the palace with fire-sticks! I heard them speak of a replacement High King, a man named Isaac Polin. You have to get out of here!" "I know, Pegana, that's what I called you for. Are you strong enough to carry me on your back?"
The horse laugh-brayed. "So much for not being a packmule..."
Meg giggled a bit at this, but her smile dissolved, for suddenly there was a banging at the door. Back to business. "Pegana, will you lean forward a bit so I can climb on? I'm sorry- I really appreciate you doing this- I know you don't like being used like this-"
"Dear Meg, you know you don't need to apologize to me. It's an honor to be able to help a sorceress in her time of need."
Meg leaned forward and hugged Pegana tightly as they took off into the night sky, the angry villagers still beating on the bedroom door, oblivious to the fact that the sorceress they were after was miles above them, soon to be making her way through a dense forest.