Names and Stories

Bae glanced down at the forest floor just long enough to step over a fallen branch, and then he looked up again. "So I gather you two didn't get along well," he said to John.

"Oh, we got on well," John replied. "We just disagreed about certain things."

"Important things, by the sounds of it."

"Yeah, well, what can be done?" Bae bit his lip. John struck him as a pessimist who had essentially given up on life. No wonder he and Robin had that falling out. John eyed Bae for a moment and asked, "What're you going to do about it? Not like you can take on the Sheriff. You met him. You know what it's like."

"I also know he can be fought. I've tried it, and so far I've been successful."

"Doubt that'll last forever."

"Nothing lasts forever. I'm not that stupid."

"Yes, you are, if you think that good magic, if it exists, is more powerful than dark magic." Bae paused. That was exactly how he scolded himself when he landed in Neverland, not that John would know that.

"I never said that," he said.

"I'm sure you're thinking it."

"Doesn't matter what I'm thinking."

"So what do you believe?"

"If you're ready to give up, you've already lost, and not only that, that makes you a coward. If you don't want to face the threat, then you are no worse than the village coward. That's what I believe."

John stopped and turned to face Bae. "You think I'm a coward?"

"You talk like one, even worse than one driven solely by fear, because your pride leads you to deny it." John scoffed, and without another word, Bae turned and forged ahead.

OUAT

Emma tilted her head back on her pillow and sighed. She wondered why she picked up this particular version of Robin Hood, and then she remembered that Henry needed it for class and she had decided to preview it first, like a good mother should. The book was divided in three sections; the tales of the Thief, Sensitive, and Warrior, respectively; and the frame story was that of some random mage whom the author didn't even bother to name. She'd narrowed that down to two possibilities: Rumpelstiltskin and the Dark One before him, whatever his name was.

She exhaled again and tried to remember why Henry asked for this book. Maybe it was because he wanted to learn more about being a hero and keep his next efforts from failing. She explained to him that people learned their most important lessons from mistakes, but she wasn't sure how much of an effect that had on the boy. Even so, she fully supported his education, and she did want to be involved. This just seemed to present the perfect opportunity.

She picked her head up and continued reading.

OUAT

Bae walked all the way to another point on the edge of the forest. He could barely feel the old, faded protection spell cast on this place. It might have been able to hold off the Sheriff at one point, but at the present, it needed a lot of work.

But that was the least of his concerns. In the town in the valley stretching out before him was Morraine. He was sure of it, and so far, he was the only one he was aware of that was willing to get her back.

Footsteps distracted his attention, and he turned to face Alan. "What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for you. You've caused quite a stir," Alan replied. They stood side by side, looking out over the town. "Nottinghamshire would be beautiful if the hand that ruled it wasn't made of iron."

"Less iron and more hideous black magic."

"Figure of speech."

"Do you use those a lot?"

Alan nodded. "Can you feel magic? As the legend says?"

"What legend?"

"They've come to the conclusion that a sensitive is the only person that can save them," John said behind them. Neither of them turned to look at him.

"Have you?"

"Depends on who's asking and how drunk I am."

"It seems to me that a sensitive can control the energies around him, to an extent. Therefore their conclusion makes some reasonable sense, does it not, Alan?"

"That depends on how you look at the phrase 'reasonable sense', I think. Most of our contemporaries don't even like the thought of magic and believe it the devil's nonsense."

"It is," John said.

"This magic, yes," Bae said, "but there is also good magic."

"What good will that do us now?"

"You can fix your shield, and I believe you should."

"Who do you think you are, boy?"

"I think," Bae said as he turned to face John, "I am Baelfire." John raised an eyebrow, and Bae added, "As a point of fact, I know I am Baelfire."

"Baelfire, you say?" John asked. Neither Bae or Alan could be sure if his amazement was genuine. "Do you know what that name means?"

"I'm a poor village boy," Bae replied. "I can't even read."

"The name Baelfire means 'great fire'."

"Interesting. You learn something new every day." John shrugged. "I figure you anticipate that this knowledge will have some use to me in the future."

"I'm an old man. My wisdom has to be good for something."

Bae nodded. "Thank you."

"Well, lad, you do know a few things, in spite of your upbringing." John clapped him on the back and disappeared into the forest.

"Does he always appear and disappear out of nowhere?" Bae asked Alan.

"You have no idea," Alan replied with a smirk.