Lance wasn't sure how long they'd been running, but to his aching lungs and straining muscles it felt like much too long. He knew that he'd slowed down considerably, and yet they were always just right at the edges of his perception. A flash from their brightly colored garments. A hint of a sweet, flowery aroma, so separate from the dusky scent of the deep woods. A distant trill of laughter, at times hard to separate from the playful chirping of the many birds. All of which pulled him inevitably in one direction.
And perhaps it had taken his oxygen deprived brain much to long to realize this wasn't about catching them at all; to ask the question; wondering where they were leading him.
Regardless hope drove him onward.
A laugh sounded to his far left. But as he pivoted his legs finally gave out. His knees buckled and pain shot up from his ankle. If not for the wall that seemed to rise up out of the forest itself, Lance might have fallen. Thankfully his face, followed in quick succession by his shoulder, broke his dive.
Varying degrees of pain flashed through his system from too many sources. The boy blinked back his tears, he didn't have time for them. Already he could no longer hear the tell-tale laughter of the two otherworldly women.
Not giving himself even a moment to recover he stumbled onward, bracing his hand against this wall for support. If it wasn't there he wasn't sure if his ankle would support his weight at all. Even with it's reinforcement the boy still limped along, cringing with each—
-wait—a wall?
Where did that come from?
Lance paused and finally looked around. It made sense, now that he was actually looking at it. The material completely camouflaged it within the woods. It was an old-fashioned log cabin. The boy struggled to step back, and his mouth fell agape as he was finally able to take in the full scope of this picturesque lodge before him. Even though it felt as if the simple home had materialized right from out of the forest he knew that it hadn't (right?) that someone had to have built it (right!) No matter what he told himself it was hard to believe, for it could have, it might as well have.
Maybe he was simply losing his mind.
It wouldn't be the first time this thought had occurred to him after all.
Regardless this didn't look like a witch's abode to Lance. the boy had imagined the it would be made of wood yes, but not like this. In his mind it had been shingles of all different types and shades, laid over each other in a half hazard manner that invited chaos. Or perhaps rough stones, stacked in a way that looked as if they didn't quite fit together. With tall angled windows and a steep gabled roof.
There was nothing ornate about this shanty though. Nothing overtly magical. In fact it was kinda…. Boring in Lance's opinion. It was a simple, practically barren, single story abode, the timber fitted together like the old toy Lincoln logs he used to play with.
Neither of the fae women were in sight and he couldn't hear them either. Though he kept both his ears strained and his eyes peeled as he continued to hobble around the corner of this cabin in the woods.
With each new step however more pain lanced up his legs, igniting nerve endings like blades of fire and ice.
A curse word the likes of which would have even his older siblings snickering, and earn him a slap upside the head with la chancla, ripped past his gritted teeth.
Before his tired mind could scramble after a plan for what he should possibly do next a resounding crack resounded all around him, shaking him to the bone and echoing off through the trees. Lance startled, almost falling over as he accidentally put more weight down upon his injured foot. The yelp he couldn't quite hold back was covered by another reverberant report disturbing a number of small colorful birds from the nearby trees, all taking flight in a sudden burst, voices shrill with irritation.
More of these splintering sounds shot through the air in an almost rhythmic manner, though not quite as loud, nor as startling as the first.
As soon as Lance's heart settled back down into a normal cadence he began to follow the noise, not even sure why his blood had quickened in apprehension. There wasn't anything to be afraid of, he tried to convince himself. He leaned even more heavily upon the outer wall of the cabin, the grain of the wood rough against his palm. A disquiet that teased the very edge of fear filled him despite the constant stream of reasoning that flowed through his mind, and it tainted every small reaction he had; a jump as the wind rustled the leaves of the foliage around him, a sharp inhalation of breath as movement dashed in his peripheral.
It didn't quite seem possible, but as he neared the corner this sound got louder, his ears almost aching with it. As he reached it the boy took a rest. Leaning his back against the wall and trying to steady his labored breathing. Working up his courage to—
He pivoted on his uninjured leg, keeping himself braced against the logs.
The next exhalation he released was a breathless laugh and Lance fell back in relief. It was just some old dude chopping wood, stark white hair shimmering in the sun as sweat dampened the man's shirt, outlining the muscles of his broad back as they tightened. The tension left the boy's body and he almost collapsed right then and there. He actually felt a bit deflated by this anticlimactic moment.
Though the juxtaposition between this and what he'd just witnessed sent his mind reeling. This was all just so …. Average. Almost too much so within its normalcy. The comparison, after such an mystical experience, was an overwhelming one. Suddenly filled with the urge to cry he brought his hands up to his face, blocking out the light for a few blissful moments. It had to have happened, he told himself over and over. It had felt so authentic, and even now the memories were so vivid. It had to be real. If not than he was just a boy, lost in the woods.
As he took his hands away from his eyes he wrung them about each other to still the slight tremor.
He must have made some sort of sound though. The older man halted his downward swing midway, his brawny body spinning with the grace of a dancer and released the ax with the same, seamless motion. With the built up momentum of the arch added to this throw the hatchet easily spiraled right past Lance's head, so close the boy could feel the wind off it.
Lance wasn't quite sure when he stopped breathing. The dull thunk of the blade sinking into wood right next to him, followed by a deep silence , where not even the birds or other wild creatures of the forest dared too interrupt, stretched on for an untold amount of time.
It was the first time the boy had gotten a good look at this mysterious woodsman and he was taken aback by what he saw, so much so that he forgot momentarily about his near death experience, about his injured leg, about how he wasn't breathing, and a gasp pulled in sweet oxygen. Almost everything else lay in the back of his mind, not quite remembered either.
The first thing that jumped out at him was that this guy only had one arm. The second was how young the other really seemed. Lance had assumed he was ancient due to the snow white hair atop his head but, there was no way this guy was too much older than Luis if that! The only aspect that marred his features was a scar that ran across his nose, the skin there lighter than the rest. A vague memory teased at the very edges of Lance's tired thoughts.
The man's gray eyes were blown wide, shifting back and forth rapidly and even from where he was standing Lance could see the wild glint within them. He wondered if the guy was even seeing him. Sweat lent a sheen to his paled flesh, which made sense with how many halved pieces of wood lay scattered about his feet.
When that dark gaze did finally focus on the youth surprise, confusion and horror flashed in swift succession over his features. Curiosity had Lance leaning forward.
"I could have hit you…" The man stated cautiously, taking steady steps towards the boy. "Are you okay? What are you even doing out here kid? You shouldn't be."
He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, not sure what he should even say. There was no way a full grown adult would believe him.
"I think I'm lost." The words were so small as his voice croaked out of him. It wasn't until this moment that he realized just how thirsty he was.
The man sighed, his one arm raising as he scratched the back of his head, brows furrowing in a thoughtful manner. Lance tried not to look at the sleeve of the T-shirt that was tied up by the man's shoulder. Again a nebulous knowing tickled at his mind.
"Well come on in and let's call your parents—" He began to turn away from Lance and without thinking he'd pushed off from the wall.
"Wai—"A jolt of pain splintered up his leg and before he could rethink his decision to move the boy was falling.
A large hand caught his upper arm roughly, keeping him upright.
The boy heard another sigh before the exhalation ruffled his hair. "And you're hurt… great."
"Yeah sorry- guess I forgot about the sprained ankle after the lumberjack hucked an ax at my head." Despite his best efforts he couldn't stop the sarcasm from sneaking into his tone.
"Uh yeah, fair point. Did I mention I was sorry?" Lance didn't answer, but bit down against his bottom lip as more agonizing hurt pulsed with his heartbeat through his system as they made their way. There was silence for a short time, save for the younger one's labored breathing and a few huffs when the man helped to lift him over the threshold. "My name is Shiro, what's yours?"
It wasn't until this moment that the dubious sense of recognition was jogged and formed into an actual memory. Tumblers fell into place within Lance's mind. It…. It must be that Shiro. That one recluse…. The town's very own Hermit! Mama had once said… ooh what was it… that he'd …. He'd earned his solitude, or something like that…
The war veteran Takashi Shirogane. Lance had once seen him years ago. It had been in a …. Parade… as he concentrated on the recollection more of that day came flooding back, first as simply snapshots in time, but steadily they became clearer.
Lance sat atop his papa's shoulders, eyes wide and laughter just a breath away as he took in the marching band. Behind which a caravan of old convertibles crept. There were people dressed all fancy waving at the crowd, their smiles so big that he bet his dad he could totally count their teeth, even from way back here.
Only one of the people wasn't smiling. He looked super cool and serious in his military uniform and Lance was sure he was extra important, with all those shiny metals glinting from his chest as the sun shone down.
Even then some of his hair was white.
"Hey hey—" He bounced to get Papa's attention, pointing. "Who's that guy?"
"Huh? Oh he's a hero mijo—"
"Woah~" The single syllable was drawn out in reverence and awe. "How did he do that? Who did he save?"
Lance could feel his father's deep chuckle. "He saved a lot of people."
"I want to be a hero some day papa!"
Lance was deposited onto the couch and he looked up, somewhat dazed.
"Uh, your name kid?"
"Oh, sorry, I'm Lance." He muttered, hissing as he tried to shift.
The inside of the house smelled so good, of dried spices and herbs, all the natural scents that could be found in the forest without all those extra odors of animal decay made worse by the humidity.
Sunshine slanted through the windows, alighting on the multitude of bundled plants hanging down from the low ceiling, swinging next to the animals hides and bones. An old bookcase, looking as if it had simply been carved out from the old trunk of a tree, leaned lopsided against the wall right across form him. Upon the shelves sat a number of old, thick, imposing tomes.
The inside looked much more like a witch's house. The thought flitted across Lance's mind jokingly
"Let's take a look at that leg Lance. Try not to move—" The words that Shiro didn't say were obvious enough to the boy…. He was waiting for some sort of explanation.
But he wasn't even sure where to start. He was already so sick of having to explain everything. He wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't know what to do—"
The man ran a hand back through his hair. "Well, I won't be able to help too much unless I know the entire situation. So why don't you tell me, and start from the beginning."
Resigned to his fate to yet again bare himself Lance began a halting, hesitant explanation, wondering what he should leave out…. Like probably the thing about the magical girls who led him here…. But then just as he finalized this decision his stupid mouth was already moving.
"-and I think… I think all of this is really getting to me bad. Like I just- I'm going crazy." Maldita se! He hadn't meant to say that. He held his breath, scrambling over what he could possibly say next to cover his mistake up, hoping that Shiro ignored it.
But the man knelt next to the couch, a look of true empathy upon his features.
"It's totally normal to feel this way Lance. And while it's not uh- great that you ran away, it does make sense."
A tightness in his chest that the boy had been ignoring loosened ever so slightly at the other's words and he looked up with an almost hopeful gleam in his ocean eyes.
"Really?" It wasn't that Lance had been expecting anything really. But to get this sort of validation was, unexpected, but oh so very welcome.
But then reality sunk in again and the boy averted his gaze, worrying his bottom lip.
"That's not quite what I mean…"
Shiro just looked at him, remaining quiet and patient. And though it went against his better judgement, there was a certain air about the older man, as if he was a safe space, like he could be trusted, even if Lance was going insane. "I…I had a breakdown earlier and I think…. I'm not sure I think I was dreaming or something. But like, I was awake."
"So you…. Think you were hallucinating?" Shiro asked, and was it just Lance, or did the man suddenly seem… wary? But of course he was, he had to be when dealing with a crazy person right?
"Yeah I guess…" He'd already started, so there was no turning back. Tentatively Lance picked the threads of his story back up, the truth spilling forth. More than he meant to poured out of him in a deluge. As he spoke he barely noticed how the expression on Shiro's face changed. How the man began to shake his head.
"And that's when I ran into your cabin, literally!" As his account wound to a close Lance finally brought his gaze back up to meet Shiro's. And he blanched with what he saw.
It was as if a storm cloud had passed over the man's features and Lance felt an apology rising in his throat like a bubble, bursting from him before he could stop it.
"I'm sorry! I know it sounds crazy-"
"Huh? What? No it's…. it's not you Lance." Shiro released a laugh that was not quite … right. It was the sort of ominous chuckle that the boy recognized from Luis. His older brother would make this joyless sound when Sylvio or Nadia really really messed up. Did that mean that Lance had done something wrong?
"Damn those playful faeries."
Lance blinked, confusion drowning out the previous emotions. Maybe he'd heard Shiro wrong? Or perhaps he'd heard the older man perfectly. The boy wracked his mind for anymore details about Shiro… what if he was actually the crazy one? Lance had heard about the soldier's sickness. How the war could change a person, twist them up sometimes.
A different type of dread filled Lance now, a new kind. One he was not familiar with.
Before the boy could even think of an escape route Shiro stood and strode over to the door. The boy tried to hide his flinch, but another one rolled over the first as he pushed back into the couch. Shiro's voice boomed out into the forest.
"Allura! I know this is your work. Coran!" The man paused, his one hand tight against the frame. "Come on I know you can hear me!"
As his voice finished echoing between the trees a palpable quiet fell. Lance began to inch away along the couch. Not one for strategy he knew his chances were low of being able to outrun a full grown adult. Let alone on a busted up ankle.
But maybe with a big enough distraction…. Or a believable excuse. After all he'd convinced his mama he'd had a stomach ache for 2 weeks straight in the third grade!
"Thank you so much for listening, like really, mucho mucho gracias. I'm pretty sure I can find my own way ho—"
There was no warning. Just a slight displacement of the air within the room and all the hairs on Lance's body rose before the ethereal creature of beauty, Allura, popped into existence right in front of Lance. So close that she was practically on top of him.