Logline

When Arabella and Scotty, two teenagers from a small town in Georgia, are magically transported to the realm of Atlantiva, they become caught in the middle of a war between elves-the Ljósálfar and Dökkalfar. Little did they know that it's Arabella's destiny to defeat the Dökkálfar, however, there's no guarantee that she or all she loves will survive.

Blurb

Arabella Layne is a loner aside from her best friend Scotty Denver. She's always dreamed of escaping the small town of Parsons, Georgia. When a hike goes awry, Arabella and Scotty find themselves transported to another realm. There, Arabella learns of ancestry she never knew she had. A great evil that was long forgotten resurfaces while she navigates her new environment, however, and she's the only one who can save all the realms. As she embarks on her quest, Arabella soon learns that fate and destiny don't come with the assurance that she and all she loves will survive.

When Arabella and Scotty go missing, their parents work endlessly to find them. Their only hope is Captain Megan Gomer, an agent for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. As Arabella and Scotty's case goes cold, a mysterious man named David offers Megan a chance to keep working to find the missing teenagers through a secret organization within the United States government.

Timelines intersect and new realms are within reach. Arabella must learn to use magic or pay the greatest price: Her life. Scotty, a victim of circumstance, does all he can to protect his best friend. Their parents race against the clock to get to them, not knowing that Arabella's father has a secret that even he knows nothing about.

As destinies intertwine, one question remains: What is the price of being a savior?

~Chapter One~

Arabella

I often wonder if other people can pinpoint exactly when their lives changed forever or if intricate pieces of events lead up to what will ultimately guide everyone to where or who they're supposed to be. It's as if every little detail of our lives is just fragmented mosaics that are artfully woven to create a bigger picture not seen until fate deems it so.

There was once a time that all I ever wished for was to escape the drudgery of a mundane life, longing to escape the small town of Parsons, Georgia, where I was born and raised. I dreamed of a life full of adventure and even danger, like the kind found in various stories I read since I was a small child.

There's a rather cliché saying about hindsight being twenty-twenty. Perhaps there are reasons that phrases are overused, and stereotypes exist.

I remember when I got exactly what I wanted... When my life, indeed, changed forever.

The summer sun shone in a golden haze above me as I lay on the grass in the backyard of my childhood home. With propped elbows, I read Don't Call the Wolf by Aleksandra Ross, shifting only to turn the pages or adjust my black-rimmed glasses. My skin itched from the midsummer green grass. A light breeze blew through my crimson hair, as though blazing like fire.

I sighed, closing the book. I stretched my tingling arms as I stood up from the grassy bed where I rested my bones. How I'd love to live in a world with magical kingdoms, dragons, and adventure around every corner. Oh, and the romance. Can't forget about the romance.

I folded my arms, hugging myself; a habit of loneliness, perhaps. Though I loved the idea of romance and living an extraordinary life filled with magic and wonder, it truly was more of a mindless notion. None of it existed, of course, except in the exceptional minds of the authors who created those worlds to escape to and fantasize about.

Strolling through my backyard, I made my way to the back door of my home and into the family room with its burgundy and gold painted walls. What I loved most about the living area was the eight bookshelves it housed in lieu of a television. I placed the book on one of the shelves, between The Da Vinci Code and Dorothy Must Die, and noticed more new titles added to my family's library. It always reminded me of how much I hoped to have a vast library of my own one day, like the one from Beauty and the Beast or the Biltmore House.

My fingers trailed along the spines from our collection of books until I found what I was looking for: Treasure Island. I nestled myself on the sectional, cool against my skin. Drifting off into the realm of pirates and treasure, I almost didn't hear the buzz of my phone.

Snapping the book shut, I grabbed my phone from the charger and smiled at the name before answering. "Hey, Scotty!"

The deep voice of my best friend answered me. "What's up, Ari?" He didn't refer to me as "Arabella," which he only used when he was upset with me. If he was using my nickname, that meant he wasn't mad. Phew.

I shrugged despite him not being able to see me. "Same old, just reading. I think Mom's bringing home pizza for dinner if you want to come over."

He scoffed playfully. "That's perfect! Now, I don't have to be mad at you for ignoring the five texts I sent you about hanging out. I'm finally home for the rest of the summer, you know."

I winced at his words, though I knew he was only joking. Well, in a way. There was a grain of truth with what he said, or maybe several grains, honestly.

Scotty was the only friend I had and I should have remembered that he was back, but I didn't pay attention to my phone the vast majority of the time. He'd been at hockey camp for a month.

I spoke in my best apologetic voice. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you a lot. Catch up when I see you tonight?"

He chuckled. "I'll be there in thirty."

Half an hour later I heard the front door open, and Scotty spiritedly called out "Hey, Other Dad," to my father, who was working from his home office. Of course, Scotty didn't knock because he never had to.

I raced to the foyer to greet him as my dad teasingly replied with, "Hey Freeloader! Tell your parents we need to have a bonfire soon since you're back in town!"

I tackled him with a huge hug. I could have cried from missing him because he was like a brother that I actually got along with. Standing about six feet tall with a light, tawny tan, Scotty was known for his athleticism and curly blonde hair that fell just below his ears. To me, he always looked like the classic SoCal surfer dude who said words such as 'cool', 'tubular', and 'like' too much. But to my knowledge, he'd never been surfing in his life. He hailed from northern Georgia, had a southern drawl, and like me, he loved fried okra and sweet tea.

My friendship with Scotty ran deeper than any other friendships I'd come across in my seventeen years of life; because ours started out before I was even born. Our dads were fraternity brothers in college and owned Denver and Layne Psychiatry in town.

His mom and my mom then met through our dads and became best friends too. When our parents found out they were having babies six months apart, with Scotty being six months older than me, they could barely contain their enthusiasm. Our moms threw each other baby showers and our families were there for each other at the hospital when both of us were born. We were like one big extended family.

Through the open cocobolo French doors that matched the hardwood in our home, Dad waved at me from behind his desk before running his fingers through his light, blonde hair as though frustrated with work. His voice sounded strained as it reached my ears. "Hey Bells, where have you been? I've hardly seen you today."

I disentangled myself from Scotty and shrugged. "Outside mostly."

"Dad said we should have a bonfire." Scotty nudged me.

"I heard," I replied.

"What do y'all think?" Dad asked, looking back at his computer.

"As long as you throw in s'mores and guarantee Lucille has to go to bed early that night, I'm game!" Scotty said, chuckling. Lucille, Scotty's thirteen-year-old sister, was going through the typical adolescent stage of being a nightmare to live with. It drove him and his mother crazy.

I rolled my eyes at Scotty before refocusing on my dad. "That sounds good, Dad. We'll be in the living room, okay?"

"Sure thing! I have a lot of work to get done," Dad groaned.

I gave Dad a sympathetic smile before leading Scotty into the family room and plopping back down on the sectional. "So, what all have I missed?"

Scotty

Instead of answering Ari like a normal person, I sat with my mouth gaping open like an idiot. I shook my head and played it off like I zoned out. "Sorry, it was a long drive. Uh, hockey camp was fun. I don't know how you go without having your phone for long periods of time. That was the only part that sucked. I will admit though, it wasn't that bad to disconnect. It improved my game a lot."

I reclined my feet on the coffee table as Ari smiled and shook her head. "God forbid you're without a phone for a month. I'm glad you had fun, though. It's always weird when you're not around."

I felt my heart pang in my chest. Seeing her smile was like what I imagined dead people feel when they see a light at the end of the tunnel instead of the fiery pits of Hell. That sounded morbid instead of romantic, but she couldn't read my mind, so it was fine. All I could do was soak her in. I loved her, but Arabella was my best friend and I'd never do anything to ruin that, especially with our families being so close. "I missed you too, Ari."

She grinned at me again and her hazel eyes shone green where the sunlight beamed onto her face. "Yeah, you better have."

I put up my hands in surrender. "I did, I did. Have I missed anything here? My phone blew up with so many messages, I didn't bother going through them. It overwhelmed me."

Ari bit her lip, like she was nervous and quickly brushed it off. "A lot happened here. Actually, I thought about covering this in the school paper, but I feel like too much time would have passed by then." She paused. "Sorry, I'm already rambling. Did you hear about the murder?"

I blinked several times. "Excuse me? The what?"

"There was a murder up on Gander Mountain a couple of days ago. Some girl from Devil's Creek came up here and murdered her parents and grandparents. It's been all over the news. Supposedly, there was a diary, but it hasn't been made public or anything. I thought that it would be a good topic to cover for my scholarship. Sure, it's morbid and creepy, but it's perfect for investigative journalism. I think by the time school starts again, it would be old news, so the school paper is a no-go."

"Is it too soon to make a joke about her being from a place called Devil's Creek?" I asked dryly, though I had to admit it was terrifying.

She threw a pillow at me. "Um, yeah. Not cool. I don't know, I can also get the scholarship application done early and that would be the smarter way to do it so I'm not stressing about it before January. Especially with finals! Plus, homework and overseeing the Parson High Chronicles... I would just rather get it done."

I raised my eyebrows. "I still don't understand why you're choosing journalism when your calling is creative writing... Even Mom said so and if my mom says you're good, then you shouldn't take that lightly. She gives away Fs like guys in ice cream trucks give out Strawberry Crunch Bars."

Ari frowned. "Or she's taking it easy on me because I'm like another child to her and she lets that one particular bias slide as a teacher...."

It was my turn to throw a pillow at her. "No, you dingbat. If anything, she'd be harder on you."

She caught the pillow. Whoops. Throwing it back at me, she laughed before sobering to a half-hearted smile. "The odds of having a book published and making a living being an author are odds I would rather not test out."

It was too bad she felt that way because she truly was talented. She won writing competitions every year since we were in third grade and now she led the school paper. But we were still young. There could be so much more in store for us that we wouldn't have otherwise thought about. Life could be weird like that sometimes.

I decided to change the subject. "Understood. Uh, so, I have about twenty texts from Lacey I haven't opened either."

I realized too late that maybe that particular change in subject wasn't the best idea. Ari's eyes narrowed and her face soured. "I'm sure it's paragraphs on paragraphs about how she wants to get back together, right?"

A small, selfish part of me wished her disdain came from a place of jealousy. I knew better, though, and had to tread carefully. "I'm not sure, but from the message previews I noticed she texted every couple of days."

Ari sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I mean, that's your choice. She's a horrible person, though. I just think you can do so much better. I get it, though. She's beautiful, popular, and a cheerleader. That's the high school dream, right?" She waved her hands in the air as she drawled, "but she's a mean girl."

I contemplated what she said. It wasn't as though I was in love with Lacey, but Arabella was off limits. She didn't have the same feelings for me, and I had enough respect for her not to go there. Not that Ari ever had any inclination about how I felt, but I knew her well enough to know she didn't love me the same way I loved her, and I just wanted to try to be happy with someone.

I sighed. "Arabella..."

"Scotty?" she countered.

"Are you sure you're not holding onto old grudges? Trust me, I know she used to be a little shit-"

She cut me off, but I always noticed the way her face twitched when she was upset; there was definitely a twitch, here. "Let's just drop it."

Arabella

Awkward silences sucked. They sucked even more when the one person who should be immune to them with you is also the person who apparently didn't get the vaccination memo for awkward silences.

I didn't want to fight with Scotty over Lacey, but I was livid.

Knowing he was seriously contemplating getting back together with her stressed me out. Scotty cared for Lacey, and I understood that, but he had no clue how cruel she was to me, his best friend. And of course, she knew I was too proud to divulge her absolutely vicious behavior toward me.

Typically, I was honest to a fault, but I didn't want to make things worse for myself when her wrath was already so close to overwhelming me.

Even if one day she suddenly became a saint and could piss out holy water, I would never like her or consider her a friend.

Luckily, my mom coming home with pizza offered some respite. "Liam, get your ass in here! I've got pizza!" My mom, Dawn, shouted at my dad out from the kitchen after coming in through the garage.

My dad walked in from his office and proceeded to kiss Mom. If there was any hope for me in the romance department someday, I at least had a good model at home. The love my parents had for each other was true, the kind found in fairytales. I hoped to have that one day, but I also feared the inevitable disappointment if I hoped too much.

People in my generation weren't exactly known for grand gestures of love and lifelong commitment, let alone genuine friendships. My experience so far with other people my age was... Not the best. Which was also why I had exactly one friend.

"How was work, honey?" Dad asked, addressing Mom as I strolled into the kitchen.

Mom looked frazzled, her dark hair frizzing out of her bun. She loved being a nurse, but sometimes I feared the toll it took on her overall health, sort of ironic considering the profession. "I'm glad I have three days off after seven twelve-hour shifts in a row. I hope we hire new people soon, because we're way too understaffed."

Dad held her as she melted into his chest. "You deserve to rest. I'm sure the hospital has been really stressful."

Scotty walked in, standing beside me.

"What kind of pizza did you get?" I asked.

Mom poked her head out. "Pepperoni, chicken alfredo, and meat lovers."

I grinned at her. "Have I told you lately you're the best?"

She winked at me. "I do what I can."

I grabbed some plates and set them out by the boxes. Not wanting to wait because I was starving, I helped myself to three chicken alfredo slices. I took a bite as I stood near the counter. Delicious.

I grabbed Scotty and me some drinks and we ate in the living area.

Glancing at his plate, I held in a gasp. Three pieces of pepperoni pizza, and three pieces of meat lovers? Good Lord, hockey players could eat.

As I retrieved our drinks, my mind lingered back to our argument. I knew the air had to be cleared with the whole Lacey situation. Everything would come out eventually and even though I said we should drop it; I also knew it would be worse if we didn't talk about it.

I decided to be upfront and get it over with. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "So, are you getting back with her?"

His blank expression gave me the impression he was trying to hide something. Which was all the confirmation I needed.

I groaned. "You are, aren't you?"

His blue eyes widened, then narrowed as he looked away from me, his voice so low I almost didn't hear him. "I don't know. I'm thinking about it."

I gawked at him. "You could have your pick of any girl at our school. Any of them! You're the Scotty Denver! Everyone loves you. You're nice to anyone, no matter who they are. You're popular. You have a good reputation. Oh, you're also an athlete. Basically, the all-American boy next door," I told him, holding up my fingers to illustrate my points.

I wanted him to see the light. To see that he was the light. Lacey? Utter darkness filled that girl from her head down to her smallest pinky toe.

Scotty looked down to the floor. "Not every girl..."

Was that all he got from that?

"My point," I spat, "is that you can do better. I know you don't have actual feelings for her. She just puts out easy."

As soon as I said it, I instantly regretted it. I knew that wasn't true and Scotty cared about the succubus in some capacity. But it was hard for me to understand why.

He gazed at me with shock and hurt in his eyes. "Jesus Christ!"

My cheeks flushed, but I couldn't stop myself from the absolute word vomit that kept coming from my mouth. "She's a horrible person. You know this."

"She's prissy, yeah. But she's not a bad person, Arabella," he said, gradually becoming irater.

I could understand his frustration. And yet... I hadn't even said half of it. There were things about Lacey that I hid from him; things from our past I'd never mentioned. Was he wrong for thinking I was the one being irrational?

I bowed my head. Don't cry.

He wouldn't understand unless I told him the whole truth; and even then...

Lacey kept that side of herself hidden from Scotty. From most people, in fact. She was smart about that.

Would our senior year be the year Scotty and I fell apart? We were on opposite ends of the high school spectrum. I knew it shouldn't have mattered because in the real world, high school and its theatrics didn't matter.

However, in the present, it mattered a lot. When living it day to day, those troubles were real, in your face. The future didn't feel as close as the moments spent trying to survive being a teenager. And people grew apart.

I wasn't like Scotty. He was popular, athletic, sought after - I was under the radar and not what anyone would constitute as a "cool girl"

Guys never wanted me. I was the girl who didn't own a tv, focused on academics, was too shy, and too awkward. "Quirky" was how Mom described me.

But I never used Scotty as a social crutch. I didn't care about the labels, the popularity— I only wanted to make it out of high school unscathed.

The thought of losing Scotty terrified me. I cared about him too much, and didn't want him to get hurt by my words, no matter how true they were. But I also didn't want to get hurt either, and him being with Lacey felt like being stung by a wasp over and over again. Was it worth losing him?

I sighed, accepting defeat. "Well, if she makes you happy."

The rest of the evening went smoothly despite the Lacey Warren hiccup. We ate popcorn while watching a movie about pirates on my laptop.

"I think I was a pirate in another life," I quipped.

Scotty laughed. "I could see it. You'd be the lady who aspires to become a captain."

I giggled. "As long as I could have a nice pirate man to share my adventures with too."

My heart skipped a beat at the thought. A lifetime full of adventure, romance, and sailing across the globe...

No, that didn't make sense. These were ridiculous notions stemming from my loneliness. While it would be nice to have a great love to share my life with, I didn't harbor hope for it. Maybe my brain didn't function properly, and my heart functioned too much.

Scotty rolled his eyes. "You know," Scotty's pensive voice knocked me out of my thoughts, "you just said 'nice' and 'pirate man' in the same sentence. Is that possible?" He laughed. "All you have for now is me, and I'm allegedly descended from pirates."

"I know," I drawled out, rolling my eyes. "Your mom told me you're descended from Lady Tempest Creed. In any case, you'd be my sidekick."

"Someone has to keep you out of trouble, a badass like you," he said dryly.

I nudged him. "Sarcasm isn't needed."

Scotty went home around eleven. After he left, I showered, and went straight to bed as I had to work in the morning

That night, I dreamed of black sails and sword fights.