Disclaimer: Book/Movie do not belong to me

Some of you might be angry that I'm starting yet another story without finishing the others, but I had to put this one down. It's perfect!

With that said, enjoy.
AN: Song is "Into the West" by Annie Lennox


It wasn't long before the reality of the situation crept into my mind. I am, indeed, on a tour in Europe. My acting and writing abilities, combined, enabled my own play to be performed wherever there was a stage. I am happy for the first time in my life.

I watch the mountainous terrain of the upper side of the clouds pass me by as I think about my reasons for being so foreboding. I've been claimed and I don't like it one bit. Magic or not, my life was interrupted by the fact that my little run was more than a dream. I've been tainted and I've yet to find a way out of the mess I placed myself in.

I have learned to accept my fate a few years ago, but so much time had been wasted trying to hide from it. I was glad my play had been well-praised so quickly. The attention it was getting was making up for my lost time. First stop that I'm coming from is Ireland and Britain. Both countries were perfect hosts what with the perfect season of autumn and generous people aiding me during my stay. I watch a flock of geese far below the plane's wings as my heart flutters at the idea of the next stop: Paris.

Thankfully, I haven't heard from or seen anyone from the other dimension, but that didn't mean they couldn't see me. I shrugged that feeling of being watched as the plane begins to land. The rush of the plane grew more obvious the closer we got to the ground. It was a bit nerve-wreaking to see such a speed of unreliable modern-day man-made machines. A very tiny, almost unnoticeable grin upturned the corners of my lips. Magic is more reliable than machines, if one knew how to use it properly. The king that I had the horror of meeting (in my personal opinion) doesn't know how to wield his magic.

I was so lost in thought that the next thing I knew, I'm already settled into the hotel near the next stage for set-up. The excitement of the French fans and the rush that the bodyguards urged pushed me from point A to B in a the time span of a blink. The time jump happened again when I had to leave the hotel after refreshing myself to meet with the stage owners and my cast and crew. In fact, the only moment of peace I've had was when I was left to my own devices after giving orders to the play's crew and pointers to the cast.

The owners had to leave me alone to catch up on a terrible pile of bills. I'd expect that from the owners of a newly refurbished former opera house. The cost must have been astounding to fix the skeletal structure and wire the building into the modern century. I shivered at the thought of the horrendous cost of bills as I walk along the empty extensive hallways of the theater. The strong scent of new paint and wood made my head spin as the dim lighting of the halls befuddled me on my direction. I realize that I was so deep into the building that I didn't know from which direction I came.

Gathering my cool, I told myself that if I could solve a magical Labyrinth, I could get out of these halls. I look down one end of the hall ending in darkness then to the other side to see a mirror image of said darkness. I sigh and take my steps into the first side. It is so quiet, though. My heart beat irregularly against my chest while the hairs stand up at the back of my neck. I'm being watched. Defiantly, I lift my head and begin to sing, hoping that the feeling would soon pass.

"Lay down... your sweet and weary head." My voice echos off of the quiet walls. "Night is falling. You've come to journey's end." There was a chorus of my own voice joining me, even harmonizing it seemed for a moment. My fingers trail along the faux gold filigree that decorate the hall. "Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling... from across the distant shore."

The being-watched feeling ebbs away, but it's still there, though the very presence of it isn't the dark, cold, powerful one I was used to. With a slow glancing spin, I take notice of the hall yet see nothing or no one. I set my face from wonder to not-caring. I wasn't a possession to be studied or gawked at.

"Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?" I continue singing. It seemed that every note melted the hair-standing feeling. "Soon you will see... all of your fears will pass away. Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping." The new presence suddenly felt warmer and kinder as if the listener is actually paying attention to my words. "What can you see... on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call?" I give a wide smile then, quietly glad of the audience. "Across the sea... a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home."

I begin to think about my steps again. For a moment, it felt like my younger years on the stage. A performance strong enough to bring tears to man's eyes. I feel that power again. "And all will turn to silver glass. A light on the water. All souls pass." The feeling suddenly left once I stepped into the bright light of the grand foyer. I made it out as I knew I would. I always make it out of whatever situation I'm in. I just need time to think.

The listener, though, disappeared once I reached the open eye of the morning public making its way for a final performance of the theater troupe before mine. Once they leave, it'll be my turn to claim the stage and the imagination of its fans. If I could, I'd always bring the people grand fantastical plays.