Do you guys think we should be wrapping this story up soon? I do. I was thinking around chapter 35 would be a good time to stop; what do you think? Leave me a comment! I hope you have been enjoying the story so far, if not, that's okay! Please keep in mind that I AM new at this "writing stories" thing!
Luv ya!
The forest on either side of the dirt road was overwhelmingly green. There were so many different shades of green that Emma couldn't count with her fingers and toes how many there were; even if she used her eyelashes to count, too, she would still run out of objects to count on. Jade, olive, forest, avocado, chartreuse, pistachio, fern. It was so much that, as Emma passed along the road, she couldn't help but use her magic to add some reds and oranges and yellows to the mix.
The trees also seemed to stretch on forever into the blue sky. The only way Emma could see the tops of the trees was if she craned her neck as far back as it would go and took several steps backward until she was at the edge of the wide road. Even being the Dark One, Emma was intimidated. The massive size of the trees reminded her that she hadn't always been this powerful.
Emma found herself wondering what it would be like to climb one of the trees and hop from treetop to treetop up in the clouds. Certainly, being the Dark One didn't have to be all evil, did it?
Emma blinked – a simple motion – and suddenly she found herself perched atop one of the trees in the forest. It was accidental, getting up onto the treetop; Emma hadn't learned to separate her powers from her wants yet.
She adjusted herself into a sitting position. The bark of the tree was itchy and rough against her skin, but the leaves were soft like satin. She pulled one of the leaves from its branch and gently placed it in her jeans pocket, hoping it would be as relaxing to pass between her fingers as the magic bean had.
The tree she sat on was so enormous that Emma could see everything in all directions for miles around. Directly ahead was an obviously humongous castle that was dwarfed by the amount of distance between it and Emma. To her, it looked to be no more than the size of a horsefly. Emma assumed that the stone castle was where Merlin resided; he was an all-powerful sorcerer, after all. He could have a castle if he wanted. She could have a castle if she wanted. With servants, and home cooked meals, and four-poster beds, and people who submitted to her every whim and will…
No.
Emma shook the thought off. She didn't need a castle; she needed to destroy the darkness.
But it would be so easy to just give in. She could live in comfort, doing whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Nobody would be able to hurt her because she would hurt them first.
Emma shook her head again, more violently this time. She wasn't sure where all of these thoughts were coming from, but it was unnerving that not only was she having them, but she was liking them, too.
What about your mother? her mind prompted her.
Mary Margaret. The two of them had been so close when they were just roommates and not mother and daughter, and as mother and daughter they had grown even closer. But a crack had grown into their relationship when Emma had found out what she and David had done to remove the Darkness from her. Their plan hadn't even panned out in the long run; Emma was the Dark One now. Wouldn't it have been better for Emma to have a little of the darkness in her, rather than all of it?
As Emma thought more and more about Mary Margaret, she began to realize just why things weren't working. Mary Margaret had worked so hard to make Emma good, to save her. She had stolen a dragon's child and put Emma's darkness into that egg. She had given up Emma, her only baby, to save her from the curse and give her the best shot at life that she could possibly have. She had let Emma go yet again when Pan's curse was ravaging Storybrooke because Henry would be left all alone, and Mary Margaret knew he needed his mother more than she needed her daughter. And now, well, Emma was the Dark One. Emma was in pieces. Emma was the polar opposite of what they'd worked so hard to make her.
Mary Margaret probably looked at Emma and saw one long string of mistakes and disappointments; that's why it wasn't working.
The solution? One of them had to go, and the darkest corners of Emma's mind assured her it wouldn't be her that went.
Emma was finally able to pull herself free of these thoughts after several minutes. She decided to focus on the scenery instead; maybe it would help her keep her mind completely blank.
Behind her, the forest ran up and down and over the hills. Some of the trees in the forest preferred their space and so there were large gaps where there were no trees, but others were sociable and, in some spaces, trees were crowded so close together that you couldn't fit your pinky finger in between two trees if you tried.
To her left and right, there were mountains, which led Emma to conclude that she was in a valley. Emma thought the mountains looked like vicious, relentless beasts with the way their sharp, jagged teeth tore into the sky. She hated the level of contrast between the sky and the mountains, like they refused to work together, to be friends, to even tolerate each other.
Everything Emma saw around her in some way made her think of her relationship with her family. She hated that they were so eager to "fix" her; they couldn't just step back and let her be Emma the Dark One for one second. They thought she would royally screw up if they left her alone. And maybe she would. But that was Emma's problem, not theirs.
Every time Emma thought back to her mother again, her anger swelled up once more. Mary Margaret was a pure soul, and she lived by the idea that people can change on their own. Emma, however, knew the opposite to be true: something infinitely more powerful than you can always take away your free will, the will that makes you want to be better.
Even turning the trees different colors and popping up on treetops was a delicious taste of what Emma could do, and she found herself wanting to do more.
Magic was fun. Magic was the force Emma couldn't fight.
Back in the group, the five of them trudged along. All of them had grown used to driving cars for transportation or, since Storybrooke was so quaint, making short walks, so this lengthy hike was difficult for them.
"Did anyone think to bring the dagger?" Lily finally said from the front.
Mary Margaret stopped dead in her tracks. She pressed her palm to her face. "No. No, no, no, no!" She turned to David, upset. "David, how could we forget that?"
David shook his head in disappointment. "I-I don't know."
"Relax," said Lily before they became too ashamed of themselves. She pulled the shiny dagger out from her boot and offered it to David. David reached for it, but Lily pulled it away before he could grab it. "I grabbed it knowing you wouldn't. See? This is why you need me. You all rush into things without thinking, and that always makes things harder. So I'm holding onto this for now." She stuffed the dagger back into her boot.
There was a short silence. Then, Mary Margaret breathed a slow sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. Thank you, Lily. Now we can be sure Emma won't be able to pull anything."
Still sitting on the top of the tree, wounded by her mother's lack of faith in her, Emma's head snapped up as she overheard this statement. Her anger surged once more.