((Okay, THIS is the third installment! I accidently put third on the last one, where the word "Second" should be. My mistake.))

Fey Children:

Pip

Once upon a time, there was a small clearing up in the mountains. And, in that clearing, sat a small town. Everyone in this town new the other and no one was left a stranger, even if they wanted to be. But, the town was small, and only one road existed. This one road was the only road that led you safely in and out, and those who were wise did not dare stray from this road. For those who were wise knew that off of the road was only a dark forest, and in the darkness of the forest would linger misfortune and agony. Those who went into the forest where nothing short of doomed.

In this town lived a young boy named Pip. Young Pip was a thin, young boy with strong arms and blonde hair that reached his pointed chin and was kept lidded with a brown cap. Pip was blessed with intelligence, and was much smarter than the other children his age, and even smarter than some of their parents. Though he was quiet and hardly spoke up, the young boy could identify Charles Dickens's writing, and Edgar Allan Poe's, and could solve his math problems with ease.

But, young Pip was cursed with loneliness. None of the boys his age enjoyed his company, and claimed that he was too odd. They claimed that his accent was annoying and different, and that his foreign background was much too silly. So, the young boy played games by himself, or tagged quietly along in the back of a large group. The young boy was even an orphan, and dwelled quietly in the town's orphanage.

Today, Pip had been asked by the manager of the orphanage to return some books to a library in the next town.

"Young Pip, won't you be a dear and take these books back to the library in the next town?" he had been asked.

"Of course, sir," he had agreed.

"Don't you dare go into the forest, young Pip."

"Of course, sir,"

And so, the young boy was deemed wise, and set out with his bag full of books. Few clouds hung in the sky, and the sun beamed down on the road as young Pip made his way along. A cool breeze blew in the air, which had Pip often adjusting his cap.

Young Pip made his way calmly down the road, when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a hand reaching out from the forest to his right. The boy gazed at the extended arm, sleeved in black, but could make no sense of who might own it, as the fog in the forest was much too thick, and the forest was much too dark. The words of his caretakers rang through Pip's head, and he remembered not to dare tread into the forest. So, with his chin raised confidently, he turned away from the arm, and kept walking along the road.

But, after walking a few more yards, the young boy saw a most confusing sight. There, on the pavement, sat mashed up treats, a mistreated basket, and a shoe box full of flowers from the grass beside the road. Young Pip looked to his left, and saw no one. He looked to his right, and saw no one.

The boy set down his bag and picked up the shoe box, taking off the lid and picking out a handful of colorful flowers. Quickly, he gave one more look to the right, and spotted a figure leaning against a tree.

"Are these your flowers?" Young Pip asked.

The figure shook his head softly.

"Whose are they?"

The figure shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you know where they went?"

The figure pointed into the forest.

"Why on earth would someone go in there?"

The figure stepped out from the fog, but still lingered in the shadows. Now young Pip could see him better, and could see that he was a boy the same age, dressed in all black, with dark hair and contrasting pale skin, and thoughtful eyes. He stood with perfect posture and his chin up and gave a smile to the young boy. Silently, the boy in all black gestured him drinking tea and pointed back into the darkness.

"She's drinking tea? In the forest!"

The boy in black pointed to Pip, then to himself, and gestured drinking tea again.

"You want to drink tea with me?"

The boy in black nodded slowly.

The young boy considered this option carefully, but eventually he ran to the boy in black and joined him in the forest. The two walked along the forest, the fog up to their upper thighs, and the light grew dim as they went deeper into the forest. Neither of them spoke to one another, although the boy in black did hum an unfamiliar tune that seemed quite uplifting. The two walked for what felt like an hour, until they finally reached a small, rustic playground.

"I don't see anyone here," young Pip said.

But the boy in black ignored him, and stepped over to an old, worn-down swing-set covered in rust. He stood behind the swing and gestured over to the young boy to sit down.

Young Pip agreed, and sat down on the rusty thing. The boy in black pushed him gently on the swing set. Pip rocked back and forth on the swing with a smile on his face. In the darkness that was the forest, he'd never felt happier.

But then, nearby footsteps could be heard, and the boy in black grabbed the chain that supported the swing's seat. Another boy came over to the two, dressed in an oversized, orange parka with the hood pulled over his head, which hung down lifelessly. His legs and his hands were dressed with blood, and he raised a bloody finger to the boy in black, but kept his dead eyes on the ground. He shook his head, and wagged a scolding finger at the young boy on the swing, then gestured for him to leave with a flick of the wrist.

And just like that, the swing set was engulfed in flames, burning young Pip's buttocks, hands, and thighs. The young boy leaped from the flames, landing on the ground with a loud, sharp cry. The boy in black just simply smiled at his distress and pulled him back onto his feet. Young Pip let out a sob as he was pulled off the ground, and tried to put the boy in black away, but the boy just pulled him close to his chest and held him dearly.

The young boy didn't fight this friendly gesture, and hugged the boy in black back, wiping away his tear-filled eyes. But, the boy in black was too warm. Much too warm, his skin and his clothes felt as though they were burning young Pip from the touch, and it only got more and more hot as the seconds passed. Eventually, the boy in black was devoured in flames. Young Pip screamed and flailed, but the boy in black refused to let go, and the young Pip was burnt in his arms.

Quietly, the boy in orange began to sing a tune unfamiliar to Pip, one of many forced, tense "la la la la la la la,"s and uneasy "ha, ha, ha, ha,"s. He shut his eyes from the sight of young Pip buring in the flames that emitted off of the boy in black's body.

Finally, the young boy let out a final whimper of agony, and collapsed in the other boy's arms. The flames stopped, and the boy in black released Pip, letting him fall onto the cold, foggy floor as a burnt mess. In finalization, he ended the other boy's song, "La…la."

…

…

"I heard howling in the forest today. A singing wolf! I wish I could go up and hug him."

-Robin

((I'm pretty sure I've said this plenty enough, but this fic was based on the wonderful game by Tale Of Tales called The Path, which you can purchase for your computer on the website. Also, a quick note on the quote, Robin is a character from the game, and the quote itself is taken from the website. Also, if you'd like to hear the song the boy in orange and the boy in black (have you figured out who they are, yet?) sing, it's Safe Song, off of the The Path soundtrack.

Thanks for reading, and the kind reviews!

1,302 words, 3 pages))