Oh, hai there. I got's an idea, so I'll be writing two stories at once. Hectic n shtuff. I'm awesome *sarrrcasm*

It'll be with Fionna and Cake and all that chiz, you know, since all the cool kids are doing it. *more sarrrrrrcasm* But yeah. I don't know if I'll continue this one. It's interesting to write, though.

There is a human girl laying outside the kingdom made of candy, limbs sprawled across the green grass painfully. Her skin, a moonlit white, glows dimly in the lackluster light of night. Her body had appeared suddenly in the darkest part of the day, perhaps an hour earlier. Rim-rod straight, raven black hair is splayed frantically around a delicate face, long, dark eyelashes resting on her high cheekbones. The girl was a rare beauty, to say the least.

She opens her eyes, unsettling white with the slightest tinge of violet barely separating the iris from the rest. Iris. The word leaves a familiar ring. Was it her name? The name of her mother, sister, cousin? Was it an infatuation, eyes being the looking glass into the soul? She doesn't know. It hurts to think right now. She pulls herself up from the soft, dew-soaked grass. Holds hands, nimble and thin, to her face. Thinks.

Her mind was blank of memories, the knowledge left behind that of her language and various other necessities. Her face is innocent like a child's, unknowing. The only thing she remembers are teeth. Horrible, stained teeth. Long and frightening, sharper than even the deadliest blade. Cackling behind it. She tows herself up onto her feet, only to dizzily fall again.

A sound of rustling invades her hearing. She jerks her head towards the sound. Narrows white-violet eyes. Rustling comes closer, slowly. She crawls backwards, frightened. A wild animal, unattuned to being approached. She squints, tries to see who it is that's coming towards her. Could what be a better term?

"Who's out there?" A young man's voice calls out, in a humorously creepy fashion. She swallows as if it were a monster, and crawls away further. Her heart is beating quick as a rabbit's, loud as a drum beat, in her ears. The man hears the sound, his sharp senses used to hearing quiet noises such as these. "I'm going to find you..." He whispers, sing-song. She whimpers, tries to get up to run away again. Fails. He hears her thump to the ground and flies towards the sound.

She moves away, face contorted with confusion, fear. He notices this and stops the scary act, and switches it to that of somebody trying to console an injured animal. He floats to the ground, smiles reassuringly. Her eyes flick to the axe on his back, then back to his face, a sick green color. He again notes her fear, setting the precious instrument to the side.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. What's your name?" his hushed, hypnotic tone stops her in her blanket of fright. She relaxes, but still strays away from the black-haired, black-eyed teenage boy. She shrugs, the truth. "Well, I'm Marshall Lee. You can call me Marshall. Or Marshy. Or whatever you'd like to call me, really, works. I'm not picky." He rushes the words out, then blushes. She lies down to calm the throbbing pain in her head. The creepily kind boy reminds her of a storm, a tempest.

"You don't have a name?" He questions her. It is followed by another shrug. Did she have a name? Had she had a life? "Well, aren't you a little mystery. Can you stand?" The quiet girl shakes her head, after two tries she'd realized she couldn't. He looks towards the eerily cheery pink walls not ten meters from where he stands and sighs. "I guess I should take you to Beauregard." She tilts her head to the side, confused at his reference. The Tempest shakes his head and reaches to pick her up. She struggles away for a moment. He hushes her, touches her knee reassuringly. She lets him pick her up like a bride, cold hands on her upper back and at the back of her knees. He flies into the air.

She closes her eyes and clutches the vampire's chest, the height frightening her even more. She doesn't know why she trusts this stranger, but she does. He floats slowly over to the other side of the castle gates, then silently lands on the candy brick ground. A couple of night-owl villagers, all various types of sweets, flock to their houses, to hide from the scary vampire king. He chuckles at this, and she clutches him tighter. She is terrified of him, of this place, of the little candy people snug in their homes. He reassures the timid, nervous girl, and tries to set her down. She shakes her head, buries her face into the boy's cold shoulder. He grins sheepishly, looking up at the voice of a handsome pink man.

"Marshall, what are you doing here at this time of day. Or, rather, any time of day?" He growls, then spots the young girl, of about 15, in the vampire's arms. "Who is this girl?" He points.

"Oh, don't worry, lover, I'm not cheating on you." Marshall replies snappily, in a valley girl tone. The candy man crosses his arms, rolls his eyes. "I found her outside your castle. Just kind of lying there. I figured you might want to know that. I mean, you don't find stray humans often." He again tries to put the clinging girl down, but she keeps hold of the vampire. Almost like he is the only thing she has, even though she just met him five minutes earlier.

"Hush, let me see her." With every click of his shoe against the floor, she tenses up more and more. Marshall Lee hushes her, says that it's okay, she's safe. "Hm. Remarkable! A real human. Who's going to take care of her?"

"Dude, she isn't a freaking dog. I'd look after her, except, you know, I'm kind of nocturnal. So, can you?" The girl scrambles out of his grip and stands shakily. She doesn't want to be held anymore. She wasn't a dog. As the two men stare at her, she keeps her gaze to the floor and wrings her hands. She looks up at the glittering night sky, at the full moon blazing in the sea of black. She stops listening to the conversation, stares at the sea of mystery above. Mystery, Sea, more words that strike a form of recognition in her addled mind. The sky is mirrored in her eyes, all of outer space echoes in those two unknowing orbs. Echo...

She repeats the word, a memory forming in the fog.

"It's like whatever she looks at is echoed in her eyes!" he laughed, wrinkles deepening beside his eyes. She giggled, small hands covering her mouth. The cold, dreary cavern air is thick in her nose. "Maybe that's what I'll call you, little one. Echo." The old man winked, and tickled the child.

The two men are looking at her, after she spoke so suddenly. She blushes, again opens her mouth to speak.

"My... name is Echo."

Thanks for reading!