It was official, the Ilse of the lost couldn't house one healthy child. The trash, the stumbling drunks, the violence, all abysmal housing complexes. One of the young service men held a stony face despite the hardships. His eyes steely and uncaring. He also was searching the fastest, overturning trash and looking for something amiss in this land of chaos.
His name was Calvin. He was nineteen years old, had a hard set jaw and dark, rather well trimmed hair.
Calvin was working as he imagined his father working as an explorer and hunter. Calvin Wilhiem Clayton, son of William Cecil Clayton. Lost on an expedition to a far off land just before his mother gave birth.
He would find this child. Preferably alive given the circumstances, but realistically could be dead.
He scowled looking over at a few of the other undercover agents hiding and barely going to alleys and getting dirty. Feh. Wusses. It was only the beginning of the first full day of them being on the god forsaken place.
He trudged through the trash as he mulled toward the far end of the island when the air, seemed to change.
There was something, less harsh. The buildings were in slightly better shape. The people, while still hard was not as cruel, even grouping together than being alone. The also seemed decidedly less like he did, less like the many of Audaron. More, like the lady Mulan. Only fiercer.
Huns, his mind supplied. He didn't stare at them directly, but he wasn't stupid enough to ignore them. He reached toward his waist where he hid a small pistol. He wasn't against shooting if need be. He wasn't a weak little boy.
"Haven't seen you above. Shouldn't you be below?" One asked him in a surpringly calm voice. Calvin moved his hand from his waist. Young. Not like the kid... But there was something about what he said. Something that made his jaw clench.
"What about it?"
The head Hun of the group with a long angular face glanced over to a small shack with a small man with a slight round stomach sweeping outside the door.
"Door's going to close in a few minutes. You don't want to be here when Smee begins removing people from the hub. Bad things happen," was his vague reply. Calvin raised a brow and gave a quick thanks. The men snorted as he walked toward the door. Smee gave him a look and glanced to the left. Taking the unintentional cue, he slipped behind building when he saw a rocky area, and a few boards. He furrowed his brows and stepped forward. His feet remained on the wood when it cracked. His eyes widened as he fell down in a rocky tunnel. He kept his eyes widened as he moved faster and rocks made bruises. He was able to get his feet into the rocks stopping his descent. He breathed heavily and began climbing down slowly.
His breathing was controlled, yet labored. It didn't take too long to come to a small opening that seemed to be an exit when he froze. Children. Dozens of children were dancing. Laughing.
Pale faced and somewhat dirty. All were thin but not incredibly malnourished. Not a one appeared to be more than twenty. Not one seemed older than he was.
His heart began to pound. He was in a nest. A dark nest with some hidden light source. His eyes trailed from child to child, many held their own features, no two seemed identical. He paused when he saw a guy in a skirt holding what appeared to be the little girl Anastasia Tremaine had been seen with. On instinct, he began to climb up the rocky wall, ignoring the music they were playing. Or the laughter and easy talking.
He clammored towards the surface, his hands feeling tired but unharmed to his surprise.
It took minutes for him to reach the surface where he felt the dirty breeze cool his face. He hissed slightly when he pulled himself out, splintering his hand on some of the wood left behind from his fall. He couldn't focus on that though. He needed to send a message to the king.
Henry smiled tensely as the Good Fairy and her daughter Jane walked into his store. It was the same story everytime. A shy young half fairy eyeing an old book he had. Or collection of books. The spells of Queen Mauve. The mad fairy queen. Her mother told her the books were no good and grab school books and novels. Not that Jane ever said anything. She listened to her mother and hung her head in shame for even looking at a book such as the spell books.
Henry couldn't really understand why. Knowledge was power and this was part of the girl's heritage. He never said anything though. How could such a simple bookkeeper understand the taboo of fairy magic? He only saw the books daily he only read through a book at least twice before putting it on the shelf if it was a one of a kind. And those spells were relatively harmless. Nothing like what he was sure would be in a spell book written by Maleficient.
Still, like clockwork, Jane was told not to look at Mauve's work and grabbed some new novels and the year's school books. The Good Fairy paid with glee as her daughter seemed somberly disappointed. Henry felt sorry for the girl. He did everytime.
"Would you like a free bookmark?" Henry asked reaching below his desk for a bookmark he had for such an occasion. Why would the Good Fairy think that he would write a spell between the folds of the bookmark. Jane gave a small smile and her mother told her to say thank you. He hoped she got the idea there was a spell inside the paper bookmark. Even if it was only to change something's color, it was something. Hopefully this would lead to her asking her mother for lessons in her heritage.
"Someone broke the door," Evie told Captain Morgan. The pirate boy's brow rose curiously.
"Wonder who broke this one?" he wondered not bothered in the least. Thin plywood was easy enough to find. Metal, now that was hard to find. He then shrugged his shoulders and gave a rather handsome grin, "I'll take care of it M'lady," he bowed, placing a kiss to her hand making her giggle.
The pirate grabbed his "first mate" who was hiding from the festivities to help him find a suitable door.
"I'm so going to kick your ass," Samuel grumbled reluctantly following Morgan.
"I look forward to it," he laughed as they exited their little haven. Samuel hissed and covered his eyes, unaccustomed to the light even from a dreary cloudy island.
"Let's just find this damned door."
Morgan chuckled as he and Samuel began their search. It didn't take all that long, a bit of a walk, but Cruella had had another fit and thrown her shelves again. Perfect for making a door.
"My King, I have news of the Tremaine girl," Calvin spoke softly into an old and surprisingly working dial phone, "And we have a problem."
Well. Nap time for me. Oh wait, my sister is making me work out... Ugh.
I don't want to. Guys, it would make me so happy if you review...
Even if I have to work out.
Oh, and for those who are curious. That is Clayton's son from Tarzan, and the name above is actually Clayton's full name.