This one is a serious story. It's not really based on any fairy tale but has the feel of one (I think). It's complete. Hope you enjoy!

Exploring the Past

The girl's voice was lost on the wind as she stood on the mountaintop. She opened her mouth and called again.

"Jason!"

Far below, the boy Jason lay motionless in the snow. He was unaware of Daria calling his name above. His mind was trapped in a limbo between two worlds – this harsh, cold mountain; and a bright, warm, scented garden, full of fragrant flowers. He yearned to enter this peaceful latter world but his arms would not move. As he lay there, Jason noticed a man coming towards him. The man came closer and knelt beside Jason, caressing his forehead. Jason recognised the features, and looked up into the eyes of his father.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Jason croaked. Each word was an effort.

"Hush, son. Save your strength. It is not your time yet. You must go back."

He stood up and walked back into the garden.

"Dad!"

And then the garden disappeared. Jason opened his eyes and felt the bitter wind stinging his face. He pushed himself into a sitting position and winced with pain. His entire body ached and his head throbbed. He attempted to stand up, but a searing pain in his left leg forced him to collapse on the snow.

"Great," Jason muttered. A broken leg was all he needed right now. If he couldn't walk, how could he hope to get off this godforsaken mountain? He had no food, no water and no shelter or warmth. He rolled over on his front and began to crawl, slowly, painfully, grabbing at rocks to pull himself forward, bit by bit. He crawled along in this fashion for several minutes, until his leg forced him to stop. He bit his lip and tried to ignore the pain as he reached out for another boulder to take hold of.

How did I get into this mess? Jason asked himself.

Rewind.

Jason and Daria had been friends since they'd been in swaddling blankets. As children they had played together almost everyday. They had been educated together. They shared interests and hobbies. One of these hobbies was exploring. Daria and Jason would explore anywhere and everywhere that was near their village. They had done the woods thoroughly and were positive they had visited every place and trodden every path. But one day, Jason had overheard some of the villagers talking about an old hag who lived in the forest.

Jason had been very excited to hear this. He told Daria this new piece of information at once, and both had agreed to go and find out where the hag lived.

Why did I have to tell her? Jason thought, feeling bitter at the memory. It was all my fault. I started it all.

Jason finally came to the edge of the rock. He looked down and was grateful that, instead of being a sheer drop, the rock sloped gently to the next ledge. Jason rolled over onto his back and swung his legs round, preparing to descend. Using his hands, he pushed himself gently down the slope until he had reached the lower level. His leg was throbbing painfully and he was physically exhausted. He cupped some snow in his hands, letting it melt, and drank it. He sat there for a few minutes, the memory of that day coming back to haunt him.

Daria and Jason stuffed a few last things into their knapsacks and set off for the woods. Their parents were not unduly worried – they had explored the woods before and it was good, healthy exercise. It was a bright day, reflecting the children's moods. They walked quickly, ignoring all those paths they had explored before. After a good afternoon's walking they found themselves in a part of the forest they never knew existed. It seemed much darker and creepier in this area. Daria and Jason knew they were on the right track and continued along it. Twenty minutes later they were standing next to a tree with a broad trunk, which had a door inside it. The woods were much darker here and the children felt as if they were in some sort of dark fairytale.

"This is it," Jason said excitedly to Daria.

Daria pushed the door open and the children saw a staircase built into the hollowed-out trunk. The stairs led downwards out of sight.

"Let's go," Daria whispered. She didn't know why she was whispering. She padded softly down the stairs and Jason followed her.

At the bottom of the stairs was a tunnel. The tunnel was cold and damp, and Jason could feel all manner of crawling creatures scuttling on the floor about his feet. Eventually the tunnel opened out onto a wide cavern. The children looked about in wonderment. At one end of the cave were moth-eaten hangings, drawn shut. Next to one wall was a table with a single chair, and a grimy candlestick, with just a small stub left in it, was standing on the table. There was another table nearby, almost groaning under the weight of many dust tomes. Hanging from the ceiling was an array of dried herbs. In another corner was a well, and right in the centre of the cavern was what attracted Jason's attention most – a large iron pot sitting over a log fire, bubbling away. Jason went closer to investigate and was startled by the sudden sound of a curtain being ripped open. Jason looked up to see the hag everyone in the village talked about. She wasn't pretty, but neither was she ugly. And she wasn't an old crone either. She was just a plain, middle-aged woman, dressed all in grey and black. And she was furious.

"Intruders?" she shrieked.

Jason and Daria were petrified and turned to escape up the stairs. The hag laughed maniacally.

"Think you can escape? Think again!" she cackled. The children ran to the tunnel, but then stopped when they realised their legs wouldn't move.

"No one intrudes on me and gets away with it!" she hissed, grabbing each child by the arm. "Now you must pay for your nosiness. Curiosity killed the cat, you know." The hag dragged them to another corner of the cave to a cage that had not been there before. The door flew open and she shoved the children roughly inside. Jason and Daria watched, petrified, as the door clanged shut. There was a click, and Jason knew the door had locked itself. He slumped down and leaned back against the bars.

"I'm sorry, Daria," he murmured, sounding close to tears. "I'm so sorry. I got us into this mess. I'm sorry!"

Up on the mountain, Jason wept as he recalled how he had started a chain of events which would destroy the harmony that had existed in their village for years. He remembered how it had got later and later, and, as they had sat in their underground prison, they had known they were being missed. Having drunk and cleansed his leg, Jason made another attempt to stand up. His leg shook uncontrollably but he ignored it. He could see that he was close to the foot of the mountain, and with a shudder realised he was lucky to be alive after such a long fall. Trying to push away the memory of what happened next, Jason concentrated on getting off the mountain.

Jason's father had come looking for them. The children could hear the mob far above them. The hag could hear as well. She raged and stormed around the cave.

"More intruders!" she screeched. "More busybodies come to destroy my sanctuary!"

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel. Above them, the mob had gone quiet. Yet it was only one person who stepped into the cave.

"Dad!" Jason burst out. He instantly regretted this action. The hag whirled round and went for the new arrival. Jason's father was quick, and before the hag had noticed he had thrown a knife across the floor to the cage. Jason grabbed it and started hacking at the door, trying to break the lock. Occasionally he looked up and saw that his father was quickly losing the battle. Finally, he had broken through and the door swung open. The children clambered out and began searching for a way out – the entrance had been blocked by the witch. After a few minutes' searching they pushed aside the curtains to reveal a bed and, more importantly, a door. The children struggled to move the bed aside to access the door.

Then there was a yell. Jason turned round in time to see his father crumple to the ground. He did not move, and in that moment, Jason knew that his father was dead, gone forever.

Jason's progress was quicker than he thought. He was at the bottom of the mountain now, and at the other side of the woods. It would be easier going from now on. Now, as he left the mountain behind, he recalled how he had found himself on it in the first place.

Daria grabbed his hand and the two of them ran through the door. It was not the entrance to a tunnel, as they had thought, but a stairway. This did not deter them. They ran up the stairs, still holding hands, the hag in pursuit. Up, up, up – the stairs seemed to go on forever. The more the children climbed, the harder they panted, the more painful their legs burned and ached. The witch never seemed to tire. Then the stairs began to go in a spiral. Up, round, up, round, never stopping for breath or rest, knowing that the hag would catch them if they did. It seemed like an age for them to reach the top. After what seemed like many hours, Jason and Daria finally emerged into a cave. It was not a large cave, and they had soon crossed its floor and were standing outside in the bright sunlight. Jason gasped with amazement when he saw the sight that beheld them. They were near the summit of the mountain Jason had often seen, rising beyond the woods, from his village. They could see for miles around. They didn't have time to admire the view, however.

What happened next was a blur for Jason. He remembered that the hag had come at them, and he had tried to fend her off. All the while, she had screeched and shouted and cursed.

"Nobody ever knows, nobody ever understands, nobody ever cares!" she yelled. "First they shun me. And now they won't leave me in peace! Busybodies, always prying, always interfering. What's it to them what I do? Why can't they leave me alone?"

Jason almost felt sorry for the woman, but these feelings were quickly forgotten as the hag went for Daria. Jason rushed to her defence and the struggle began. They grappled for a while and came very close to the edge of the mountain.

And then the witch fell, pulling Jason over the edge as she did so. Jason could hear her cackling triumphantly, and the screams stopped abruptly. A few seconds later, Jason hit rock and was swallowed by the darkness.

Jason paused for rest in the woods. He found a longish branch and secured it to his leg with a few vines and creepers that were found on the forest floor. When he was done, he heaved himself up from the floor and carried on walking. It was not long before he found the door in the tree trunk. He had not realised it was so close to the edge of the woods. The mob was no longer there. Daria would have gone back down all those stairs and would be back in the underground cavern. Jason opened the door, and went down the stairs and through the tunnel.

Daria was in the cavern, kneeling by his father's body. She was weeping. Jason kneeled down with some difficulty and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up with surprise and sniffed.

"Jason!" she cried. "I thought you were dead!"

"I should have died," Jason said grimly. "I was lucky I didn't. Dad sent me back. I saw him, there, in the Garden."

"In Paradise?" Daria's mouth gaped in wonderment

"It was beautiful. I wanted so much to give in and stay there. But Dad sent me back. Told me it wasn't my time. As it is, I broke my leg. I tied a splint to it, but it'll need proper care when we get back."

Daria was relieved and threw her arms around him. They embraced tightly for a while, then drew apart.

"We have to get him back to the village," Daria said suddenly. "Can you walk?"

"Well enough," Jason replied.

Without a word they each took an arm around their shoulders and dragged the body back through tunnel and up the stairs. By the time they had left through the door in the tree there were people waiting for them. They relieved Jason and Daria of their burden and allowed the children to rest in the cart they had brought with.

Jason and Daria managed small, weak smiles. It was finally over. With the exception of Jason's father, everything was going to be all right.

"No more exploring, then?" Daria asked Jason when they were settled in the cart.

"No more exploring," Jason said firmly. "Who knows what might happen next time?"

Weary and exhausted, the children lay down in the cart and drifted off. Then, slowly, the solemn procession began to make its way back to the village.