One year later...

The village of Calton was still rather quiet. No one had talked about the burning of the Kirklands since the day it happened. Not even on the first year anniversary of the event...not even the men responsible...

The morning sun beckons the villagers to wake, almost urging them by getting brighter by the second. If the sun didn't wake one up, surely their family would.

"Good morning father."
"Hm...I slept in again did I, Roderich?"

Sitting up in his bed then rubbing his messy head of hair, Conrad looks down to the side of his bed, looking at his son Roderich. Roderich's spiky and dark brown hair is neatly combed back aside from a stubborn cowlick to the right corner of his forehead. Silver-rimmed glasses rest on his nose and slightly cover his violet eyes, and a small mole is located below the left corner of his mouth. The clothes he wears are a long-sleeved purple shirt and black shorts, with his footwear being formal black lace-up shoes; accompanied by white socks.

"Just by half an hour..." Roderich specifies.
Conrad smiles, but it quickly turns back to a grumpy frown. "What did I say about holding Ludwig?" He almost rhetorically asks, noting the young, blonde-haired child wrapped up in a white blanket that's all snug and sleepy in Roderich's arms.
"I know, I know..." Roderich replies, tilting his head and sighing a little. "But unlike Gilbert I'm responsible! Mother trusts me with Ludwig, and-"

Roderich is cut off as Ludwig begins to mumble and his eyes slowly open, revealing his bright blue eyes that can shine in the dark.

"Ah, good morning little brother!" Roderich hums with glee.
"Well, I guess I can't tell you to put him back to bed now..." Conrad pulls the blankets to the side before pushing himself out of bed, pressing down on the lower section his back as he stands to make sure it's cracked into place. He looks back down at his children. "Where is Gilbert, now that I think about it..."
"Oh, he went off to play with Antonio and Francis...as usual." Roderich answers as he puffs his cheeks up a little.
"You're not going to? I thought you were friends with them too." Conrad questions as he slides one of his hands onto his hip.
"I'm looking after Ludwig like a good big brother should do..." Roderich replies, tightening his grip around Ludwig by a little bit.
"Well, I'll tell them you said hello. I should check on Julius anyway...poor guy's gotten sick, but it doesn't seem contagious since his kids haven't caught it..." Conrad walks towards his wardrobe to put on more socially acceptable clothes than a white singlet and tan boxers.

He ends up putting on a white shirt with tan and blue lines that create a plaid pattern. His baggy pants are worn and seem permanently stained with dry dirt, but it makes no difference to the overall colouring of his pants for they are a light tan colour. Putting his black rubber boots on and tucking his pants into them. Before he exits his room, he grabs a black hair tie to pulls his hair up into an elegant looking ponytail, but some strokes of hair simply gravitate towards the front of his shoulders and avoid being grouped into the ponytail.

Walking through the doorway, down the hall then pushing the front door open, he's greeted by soft and dry winds, accompanied by the warm rays of the sun.

He walks through the main dirt road of the town. All the kids are outside playing. One of the houses is white and looks rather new. A wooden picket fence clearly shows the area of the front yard, where two silver-haired children play; one a girl and the other a boy. Their ages seem around six and seven, with the girl looking older.
"Hi, Mr Beilschmidt!" The girl greets upon seeing Conrad, with the boy simply waving as he grips onto his playmate's arm.
"Morning Irunya. Same goes for you Ivan." Conrad greets back.
"Are you going to visit Mr Vargas today?" Irunya asks.
"Where else would I be headed?" Conrad can't help but chuckle a little in response. He slightly rolls his head back and pulls his fingers through his silky ponytail.
"Well, my mother says she wants to help him out! She has leftover Ukha from last night, and she says his family needs it more than we do." Irunya says.
"That's rather kind...I'll wait here while you go get it then." Conrad accepts their kindness. "I'm sure I can carry a pot of leftovers."
"Come on Ivan, let's go!" Irunya tugs on Ivan's light brown and snug looking jacket, before outright pulling him along as she runs inside.

Not really able to keep moving for the moment, Conrad gently leans against the fence which barely reaches above his knees. To his left he sees a plain wooden house, unpainted. It looks both old and new. Old as how it was constructed but new as in it looks recently made. The front yard is full of unused wood planks and long grass; no one is outside.
To his right is a rather old looking house. The green and yellow paint are peeling off of the wooden pillars that keep the porch held up. Two men in their 20s - one early and one late - sit at a table and drink tea.
"Oh, hello Yao, Kiku. Didn't see you two over there." Conrad calls as he waves.
The two men flinch, with the one that has short black hair almost choking on his tea. He stands up to properly slam on the front of his chest so the tea doesn't go down the wrong pipe. He wears a plain white robe, similar to a kimono. A golden ribbon ties it up so it doesn't flop about too loosely. He coughs up a few small splashes of tea before taking a deep breath.
"Sorry about that Kiku!" Conrad apologises.
"N-no, it's fine." Kiku tries reassuring. He still seems a little bit shaky, with his brown eyes rattling about.

The other man with his brown hair tied up into a ponytail stands up to walk to the other side of the table. He gently rubs Kiku's back. The sleeves of his kimono-esque robes look way too long, as they droop over his hands. The red colour with golden rims seems to suit him fairly well. "You startled me a little bit too." He chuckles, looking at Conrad. "You're fine, brother." He assures Kiku, gently slapping his back before removing his hand completely.
"Well, I must apologise for startling you both." Conrad insists. "Perhaps I can-"

"Mr Beilschmidt! We're back!" Irunya calls out.
Conrad turns his head back the other way to watch the two children run up to him with a black pot of soup. The top of the pot is covered with tin foil, securely tied on with rope. Conrad holds out his arms and grips onto the handles of the pot, lifting it out of the grip of Ivan and Irunya. He ushers a nod with a small smile to thank the two. "Don't worry, you'll get your pot back. For Julius, tell your mother 'thank you'." He turns his head again, looking at Kiku and Yao. "I'll see you, two men, later, yeah?"
"Oh, of course!" Kiku replies with a bow before gently waving his hand as Conrad begins to walk off. Yao's waving is a lot wider and full of energy when compared to Kiku's. "Yeah! See you!" Yao calls out.

Conrad continues down the path to the Vargas residence. He passes by more houses, one that sticks out looks as if it's being refurbished due to all the old furniture out on the front yard. A young boy - light tan, soft green eyes and short brown hair - is jumping on the worn-out couch. The woman that seems to be his mother walks out of the house and upon seeing her son jumping on the old couch, chooses to scold him.
"Gupta! I told you that could break at any moment, and you could hurt yourself! Get off!"
Gupta doesn't seem to listen.

She picks up her white sleeveless dress as it goes down to her ankles, her feet quickly trot over to the couch, and she grabs the young boy.
"But moth-"
"Good morning Nefi." Conrad interrupts the two, obviously talking to the woman.

Nefi freezes for a split second upon hearing the voice of Conrad. Turning around to look at him, she gives off a bright smile. "It is a good morning, isn't it Conrad?" She rhetorically asks with a slight giggle in her voice as she puts her son down. "Oh! You have a pot of soup there I see." She observes.
"Yeah. The Braginsky's kindly gave away last night's leftovers intended for Julius and his kids." Conrad briefly explains.
"That's so kind of them!" Nefi clasps her hands in delight as her son runs off back into the house. "It really is nice to see everyone trying to help him out. The loss of Eirene hit the family hard, not to mention that illness he seems to have come down with." Her smile gently fades, and she raises her hands so one of them grips onto her chin. "There must be something I can do to help out...after all, he did help me move in a few years back."
"I'm sure he'd appreciate someone doing his laundry...just as a suggestion." Conrad brings up. "He's pretty lazy when it comes to that, and now that he's sick..."
"Oh! Good idea! I'll ask him about that later." Nefi perks up a little bit, gently brushing some of her fringe out of her foggy blue eyes, then she can't help but notice some loose hairs on her shoulder and brushes them off.
"Well, I best be off now. It was nice talking to you." Conrad replies, readjusting his grip on the pot by shrugging his shoulders up to make sure it won't slip out of his grasp. He already had a firm, dry grip but you could never be too careful.
"I'll see you later!" Nefi waves goodbye as Conrad continues walking down the dirt road.

As Conrad walks out of her sight, Nefi sighs a little bit. "Oh, Eirene...you poor girl. You were always left weak after birth, but no one thought it would be enough to kill you...how I'll miss our lunch dates while we let our children play with each other. I'll make sure Julius looks after the kids for you."

Conrad comes across one more detour before he can make it all the way to his destination. Turning his head right to look at the Blue and white painted house, a young boy of about 4 comes running at him, so Conrad takes a step back to avoid crashing into the boy.
The boy digs the heels of his bare feet into the dirt to properly stop so he can turn to look up at Conrad. The boy's hair is neither short nor considered long for a male, and it's a creamy blonde colour. His eyes are an olive green and look a little empty.
"Ah, Mr Conrad. Have you maybe seen my younger sister Laura?" The boy asks.
Conrad shakes his head. "Sorry Govert." He says to the young boy.

Govert sighs a little bit. "It's her bath time...the water will only stay warm for so long."
Conrad bends down to Govert's height. "I'll keep an eye out for her. She couldn't have gotten too far." He insists, putting on a smile so Govert isn't too upset.
"Thank you." Govert replies. He doesn't seem to be the type to smile, but he is obviously thankful for the offer.
"Well, off you go now." Conrad lifts up the pot along with his upper body, and he waits for Govert to continue running before he continues down his own path.

At the last left turn is a rotting old house that looks as if it's been there for years. The metal roof is rusty and all over the walls and wooden pillars for the porch, paint is peeling off. In the front yard, three children run around after a ball; one with short brown hair, another with short white hair and the other one has wavy blonde hair.

"Vati!" The white-haired boy flinches upon seeing Conrad. His red eyes seem to shrink before he hides behind the blonde-haired child with the wavy shoulder-length hair and blue dress; giving off a very feminine look.
Conrad chuckles softly. "Oh don't worry Gilbert, I didn't come to scold you for anything or take you home-" He says, looking down at the children. "I came to see Julius, do you know where he is?"
The brunette steps forward. His eyes are a solid green colour and his skin has an olive tint, his clothes appear to be cheap or hand-me-downs from years ago, as he wears a white t-shirt; seemingly permanently stained by things such as mud, paint and it's also torn a little about the place. His navy shorts pass over his knees and are kept up via a rope around the waist, showing it's not actually meant to fit him.
"I do! Papa is inside, in the living room. Last I saw he was in his chair." He says, pointing at the closed front door.
The blonde one runs up to the door, pulling it open for Conrad. "There you are~"
"Thank you, Francis." Conrad says as he walks up to the door and then through it.

A short hallway walk into the living room is all it takes to spot Julius. He is indeed still sitting in his rocking chair with his back to Conrad and his front facing the big window; curtains pulled back to let the light and warmth in.
"Hey, Julius...how are you feeling?" Conrad asks, raising his voice a little so Julius can hear him.
"Ah, ciao Conrad..." Julius happily greets with a slightly weak chuckle to accompany the greeting.

"Don't strain yourself, I'll be over there in a second. The Braginsky's wanted to give you some of their leftover soup, so I'll put this pot in the kitchen for you." Conrad ushers, putting on a warm and comforting smile for his friend.
"Grazie." Julius thanks, followed by a cough that he semi-covers with his fist.

"Hng..."

Julius looks down in his lap.
Two sleeping newborns lay face down, and one of them just unhappily groaned in their sleep.
Each has a curl that stretches out to one side of their head. They both have brown hair, but one has a darker shade than the other; one being akin to dark chocolate and the other being similar to a ginger powder. The two wear matching outfits: Pure white long-sleeved gowns. While they look elegant and cute, it comes off as inexpensive as well.
"S-scusami boys..." Julius apologises to the two for coughing, gently stroking their heads.

The one that groaned - the darker haired one - rolls over onto his back and rubs his sleepy green eyes, followed by a yawn.
"Aw, did I wake you Lovino?" Julius picks up the dark-haired Lovino, with a curl that swings slightly off to the right of his face. He still looks rather tired with his greeny-brown eyes not seeming to focus on anything and instead they droop down.
Julius pulls Lovino into his chest and gently ruffles his hair as he begins to slowly rock his chair back and forth. "At least your brother Feliciano is still asleep...let's hope he stays like that for a little longer."

From a distance, Julius didn't look as if there was anything wrong with him. But upon closer inspection, you could see that he didn't have a healthy glow and if you knew him from before his illness it was easy to tell he had lost a lot of his energy and strength, his voice was also slowly starting to get a little raspy.
One more detail that gives it away: his eyes. They were rather dull in colour - what was once a clear dark surface that reflected moonlight like a mirror was now a fogged up lens that needed cleaning.

Conrad finally walks back into the room and right up to Julius, admiring the two children on Julius and looking at them with a warm smile. "You think they'll like playing with my boy Ludwig? I believe he's just about old enough for playdates now..." Conrad tries to strike up a quick and friendly conversation.
"S-si. I hope Lovino doesn't play rough o-or anything." Julius replies with a raspy chuckle, barely able to hold back a coughing fit as he tilts his head diagonally upward so he can look his friend in the face.
Conrad smiles at Julius but also shows concern for his deteriorating health by staring back at his friend with a worried look. He nervously coughs himself before striking up another quick conversation. "Before I go off, do you need anything done?" He asks.

Julius' head sinks back into the position it was in before, now staring back out the window. "The crops need watering...could you...get Francis and Antonio to do that for me p-please? Maybe your boy Gil could help them ou-"
"Gilbert?" Conrad cuts Julius off, almost shocked by that suggestion. "That boy destroys everything he touches unless it's soft or cute...I'll just take him home." He responds instead.
"Well, alright then..." Julius responds with a soft but not disappointed sigh, then closing his eyes to bathe in the warmth of the sun's rays that crash through the window. "I'll see you later."
"...ja, see you later Julius."

And with that, Conrad exits the house.

The three children are still playing with a ball, but it's a different one from the one they were playing with a little earlier. Gilbert then kicks said ball far off into the village.
"GIL!" Francis clenches his fists and shakes them slightly. "Now we only have one ball left, and that's only counting the ones we can use...the rest are on the roof!"
Gilbert scoffs, folding his arms and cheekily winking. "You can just have Antonio climb on the roof like last time-"
"Gil, I sprained my ankle upon landing back down..." Antonio whines back at him, pulling his pants back up as they're beginning to slip down.
"We have ONE more...I'll go get it..." Francis sighs, flicking his hair as he goes to walk off.

"Well, you're not going to be kicking another ball off into another yard young man."
Gilbert flinches again upon hearing the demanding voice of his father.
"Antonio and Francis have been ordered to water the crops on the farm, so you're coming home to spend time with your brothers." Conrad grabs Gilbert by the arm, ready to pull him away.
"But Roderich isn't fun anymore!" Gilbert whines, thrashing his arms and legs about to try and release himself from the grip.
Conrad rolls his head along with his eyes, a little annoyed now. "We're going now. Say goodbye."
"Bis später guys!" Gilbert waves goodbye as Conrad begins to drag him back home.
"Cya Gil!" Antonio returns the gesture by waving goodbye with a wide-swinging arm.

As Gilbert and Conrad walk out of view, Antonio's hands grip onto his hips as he lets out a quick sigh to exert some extra air. "The right thing to do is in fact water those baby crops...but that won't take too long so maybe we can have one last round with the ball?" He talks to himself.
Francis soon walks back into Antonio's vision, holding a worn yet heavily inflated red ball, so it still looks good for playing around with.

"Ah, Francis! After this, we have to water the crops...I think. That's what Conrad said at least." Antonio is quick to alert Francis.
Francis throws the ball in Antonio's direction. "Alright then. If it goes on the roof like the others or into the roads, then we finish."
"That sounds fair. I'm ready to go!" Antonio catches the ball as it flies over his head, then planting it down on the ground under his dusty brown boot that barely passes above his ankle.
In response, Francis grips the front corners of his dress and pulls them up to his knees, his brown knee-high boots now in complete view. "Loser will be doing laundry!" He pits.
"You're on!" And with that, Antonio kicks the ball back at Francis.

Francis kicks it back while running into a new position to guard the ball from running off into the wide dirt paths.
It easily reaches Antonio, who kicks it up to bounce it on his knee before kicking it back at Francis.
Francis blocks the shot by headbutting it back at Antonio.
Antonio quickly side-steps as the ball was sent back too fast for his reflexes. The ball smacks into one of the wooden pillars that keep the porch from collapsing. Some of the peeling white paint chips off of the pillar once the ball makes contact with it, the ball quickly falling back to the ground. Antonio kicks it in-between his feet to secure the ball before kicking it back at Francis.

The two kick it back and forth for a few minutes...

"What are you waiting for? Pass it here Antonio!"
"Hope you're ready for my power shot Francis, YAH!"
Antonio pulls back his leg, then launching it forward to send the ball in front of him flying.
Francis looks in awe as the ball flies over him, and far beyond the dirt patch that is their front yard.

"Oh come on Antonio, that was our last ball! If Papa finds out…" Francis scolds his younger brother.
"Can't you just ask around like last time we kicked a ball into another yard?" Antonio tries to argue back.
Francis sighs. "Did you see how far it went? You kicked it all the way into the Bluebell Woods!"

Antonio suddenly realises his mistake. "Oh no…that's the cursed place where people don't come out if they go too deep, right?"

"Yep." Francis reluctantly confirms.

"Um, um…y-you can peer into it to see if it's at the entrance, right? I won't tell Papa! And I'll water the crops for a week if you do!" Antonio offers a deal since he doesn't look keen on losing that ball.
Francis gives a sly smirk. "Well, if I don't have to wander too deep…deal. To make it a little fair, I'll do the laundry."

Pulling up his mud-brown boots to make sure they're a snug fit and brushing the dust off his dress, Francis begins to trek his way to the woods. The closer he gets, the less determined and cocky he becomes to go beyond the first trees, eventually halting before it.
The trees stand tall, strong and proud. Nearby rocks are covered in moss, mushrooms grow, and the bluebell flowers seem to chime when stroked by the wind.
"Just a few steps in…if the ball isn't in plain sight, turn back." Francis mutters, repeating the plan to himself.

One step in, the terrain below Francis' feet haven't changed.

Two steps in, the ground is getting softer.

Four steps in, short and squishy grass begins sprouting from the ground.

Eight steps in, the forest is getting thicker.

Twelve steps in, still no sign of the ball.

Francis softly chuckles. "Well, guess I should go back then…"
Francis turns to leave, but the crunching of thick sticks make him turn back around.

"A-ah!"

A soft and scared voice sounds startled. The owner of the voice isn't anywhere to be seen, but the rustling of bushes and thumping of bare feet are more than enough to give chase.
"H-hey, wait!" Francis calls out, picking up his dress as he begins to run. The deeper he runs into the forest, the harsher the environment gets.

Francis takes big steps over bushes and is careful to avoid anything that looks squishy and gooey on the floor. Unfortunately, this slows him down and he seemingly loses the startled one as he doesn't hear any rustling or even wildlife. Looking around, he can't even tell what way he came from.

"Papa is going to be so mad at me if he finds out I got lost in here...will I even make it out alive?" Francis asks himself. He stops in his tracks for a moment to look up.
He doesn't see any sky, just thick leaves and branches. On occasion, he sees rays of light come raining through the gaps in the leaves that aren't sewn together like a protective blanket. He can't decide whether it's beautiful or a little frightening.

Turning his head back down in front of himself, Francis is about to take another step, a squeak comes from below his raised foot. He takes a second to look at the ground and sees nothing. "Eh? What was-ah!" Francis attempts to walk forwards anyway, but his dress has gotten caught on a branch that has extended too far from a bush. He takes a few steps back to lift the skirt up and away from the branch but it's easier said than done. The branch is rather clingy and doesn't want to let go. After going from gentle to forceful tugging, Francis frees himself from the grasp of the bush and stumbles forward, grabbing a proud-standing tree to readjust his footing.

When Francis looks forward once more-
"A clearing..?"

The circular patch of light and fluffy green grass has a plentiful amount of rays from the sun. At the edge of the clearing, a broad and low stump is accompanied by smooth grey and flat rocks to surround it; the stump seems to have a toy tea set laid out. Scattered about the middle of the the clearing seems to be a simple mess of twigs of all shapes and sizes; thankfully they are just scattered in a loose pile and not all over the place. Aside from that, flowers and mushrooms are randomly sprouted to mark the border of the clearing, one of the said bluebells at Francis' feet.

"G-go away!"

Francis looks around; it's the same voice that was seemingly startled by him earlier. He still doesn't see the owner. Looking up at the leaves and the branches and down at the ground, no one appears to be around - aside from Francis himself.

Thinking he has nothing to lose, Francis steps over the border of mushrooms and bluebells and into the clearing.

"I SAID GO AWAY!"

Francis tenses up, quick to clasp his hands together and place them over his chest; feeling his heart slowly beat faster and faster. His teeth quietly chatter as his lips shake, a little scared to speak. He quickly decides to respond, but he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm down.
"I'm sorry whoever you are, but I've gotten lost looking for my ball that my brother kicked into these woods..."

Opening one eye, Francis doesn't see anything different, so he goes ahead and opens up both. There is still nothing out of the ordinary.

The one on the other end of the conversation doesn't seem to reply to Francis right away, but quiet mumbling can be heard.
From a hollowed out tree with the inside completely covered by darkness, a small blonde child with a pointy black hat and green cape steps out of these said shadows, and going by the short styled hair they're likely male. He wears a dress-like garb that's creamy and looks a little worn as his primary clothing. His bare feet can be seen as his toes nervously grip the grass, this matches with how tight the grip his arms and hands are around a red ball. The young boy is averting his gaze as best he can, trying to look back at his tree or more likely his toy tea set.

"M-my ball! You found it!" Francis' face is removed of any frightened expressions as it now beams with joy, eyes twinkling almost like stars. "So getting lost wasn't for nothing!"

"Hold it..." The boy makes Francis pause his display of joy as he walks up to Francis. Not counting the hat, the boy his half the size of Francis. The boy looks up, the wide brim of his hat now unable to cover his emerald green eyes as they stare right at Francis' sapphire blue ones.
"You're not...one of them are you?" He asks, bringing one eye closer to Francis to try and give off an intimidating glare.

Francis looks back, rather confused. He slowly unclasps his hands so he can fold his arms and accompany it with a tilt of his head. "Who are 'them'?" He asks.

"...the...the Beeilllshmits or the Vargasas." The boy replies. "The fairies told me they burned my family." He goes back to looking away, shuffling his position around so he isn't parallel to Francis.

Francis takes a while to think about this, sort of ignoring the fairy comment. His father alongside Conrad had talked about a certain 'Kirkland incident' a few times over the past year, adding in commentary from his late mother mentioning about how it was wrong to burn and it was certain that this young boy was tied to that event in some way. What made it worse is that Francis himself was a Vargas, the eldest child of said family - not counting a miscarriage.
He didn't want to frighten the boy or have the boy lash out at him, so he had to come up with a believable excuse and quick.

"No, I'm a Bonnefoy...Francis Bonnefoy." Francis semi-lies as he introduces himself.
While his last name was Vargas, his mother's last name was Bonnefoy before marrying his father. It was the perfect cover-up.

The boy looks back up at Francis, shuffling back into position and now holding the ball up so Francis can take it.
"...Arthur. Mine is Arthur." The boy says, referring to his name; not exactly stated but assumed to be his first.

Francis unfolds his arms and holds them out, gently grabbing the ball as Arthur lets go of it.

"So...can I trust you?" Arthur asks, swinging his hands behind his back. "You're not going to...tell anyone are you?"

Francis looks Arthur up and down once more. The getup he has is very similar to the fabled wizards and witches, those beings to be burned as soon as possible due to supposedly being beings of mass destruction via use of magic...but the child of what seems to be three years of age looks very harmless, and is likely living in the woods for a reason. If he were truly destructive, he would have gone out and killed everyone by now right?

Francis wraps his arms around the ball and bends his knees down so he matches Arthur's height more closely. "Of course, you can trust me. You want to stay hidden for a reason, don't you? It would be utterly rude of me to just blurt out this secret to others." Francis responds, a smile on his face that glows to add to it.

Arthur lets his stiff stance go, finally letting his shoulders relax and his toes let go of the grass. He takes a deep breath in before replying. "Thank you." He replies.

The two stare at each other in awkward silence for around five seconds.

"Now leave." Arthur requests.

Francis stands up straight and looks a little bit confused as well as sheepish. "There's a bit of a problem with that. I...don't know which way I came from." He admits with a nervous little chuckle. "Is it too much to ask that you escort me out of here?"
"Wait...this whole thing isn't a trick is it?" Arthur folds his arms and bends forward a little bit. "You're trying to lure me out!"
"N-no! That's not it at all!" Francis recoils by panicking a little bit. "You don't have to personally escort me, just point me to the way out if you want."

Gently swishing his hip to his right and tilting his head in the same direction, Arthur looks Francis up and down. "Fine. But don't come back after you leave."
"...alright then Arthur." Francis reluctantly agrees.

Francis looks back at Arthur, with a bit of an upset glare. What he sees is a lonely yet untrusting child that really wants a friend, but he's too scared to get close to anyone. It's not in his nature, but Francis will have to turn his back on what he just said. He will be coming back tomorrow when he finds an opening in his schedule.

Arthur walks up to the border of the clearing and takes a seat using his knees. "Alright, lead him home."

Francis' face lights up with wonder as a trail of small blue flames light up one after the other, leading him off into the woods again.
"So, I follow...those?"

Arthur nods, turning his head to look up at Francis. "Yes. The wisps should lead you out of here." He simply says, brushing off his clothes before getting to his feet once more. "Goodbye, Francis."
"Arrivederci Arthur." Francis bounces a little on the spot, smiling at Arthur with a small, soft and warm smile; eyes gently twinkling. It takes him an extra second, but Francis skips over the border and begins to follow the flickering wisps.

"U-um, wait, Francis!"

"Hm?" Francis plants his feet down to stop moving forward and turns his upper body around to look back at Arthur.

Arthur stands there, unsure if to move. He eventually steps forward and lands on his knees so his face is right against a nearby bluebell. Digging his hands into the soft dirt around the flower, he then pulls the flower - and soil - out of the ground. Getting to his feet once more, he jogs over to Francis and holds the flower up to Francis. "The...the fairies said I should at least give you a...souvenir. Now you don't have to come back and get a flower so if you do come back you can't use that as an excuse." Arthur huffs, averting his gaze again.
Francis holds out his left hand and gently grabs the clump of dirt with a secure grip, making sure it's enough to hold on but not too much so the clump of dirt will crumble.

"Grazie Arthur. I'll take good care of this flower." Francis replies, almost humming. He turns back around and continues to follow the path of wisps, soon escaping Arthur's vision.

After a trek that felt like it took hours, Francis is welcomed back to town by the sun pouring the light down upon him and the wind kissing his cheeks. Aside from that, no one is actually there to greet Francis, not even his brother Antonio.
Now able to pick up some speed, Francis runs at a rather slow speed back to his old house that's way overdue for a makeover. On the porch sits a now rather exhausted, a little dirty and worried Antonio.

"Antonio, I got the ball!" Francis greets.
Antonio's drooped head perks up and he runs right over to Francis with a relieved smile, almost crying with what looks like joy. "You're okay! When you didn't come out almost right away, you had me worried. You didn't go in too deep did you?"
"If I did, I wouldn't have come out now would I?" Francis replies by bringing up a point. "And see? I'm completely fine." He then holds the ball out to Antonio. "Put this back, will you? I'm going to see if we have any spare pots so I can plant this beautiful flower..."

Antonio grabs the ball and watches Francis walk off, almost nonchalantly. With a rather confused blink to go along with the tilt of a head, Antonio doesn't entirely understand why Francis didn't come back scared or gasping for air. The Bluebell Woods were still cursed, right? For the moment, Antonio shakes the thought out of his head, going to put the ball back.