Throughout history, fairy tales held different meanings. To some, they gave a message of hope, a beacon of light in the darkness. The idea of one day finding their prince (or princess) charming or whatever their happy ending could lift them up from their lowest point. Others viewed these stories as cautionary tales, with the underlying message of 'Be careful what you wish for'. While children dressed as these fantastical characters and imagined themselves in a fantasy land filled with dragons, unicorns, and magic, very few have ever opened themselves up to the possibility that these stories are more than just pages in a book, but a reality. It seemed ridiculous to believe in such things as fairies who could grant the deepest desires with a flick of their wands or giants atop a beanstalk. Only the open-minded were able to see flickers of the strange and impossible, making them question if these stories were based on some kind of truth though they kept such ideas to themselves.
A young couple in their twenties was trudging through a dense forest. In between the tall trees, they spotted partially destroyed cottages, bodies torn to shreds, and rubble. Traveling was difficult, due to the overgrown path covered in branches and shrubs. The girl struggled more, having to deal with the long skirt of her dress. Every so often, the skirt would snag on a low branch. If constantly pulling her skirt off of some branch was not bad enough, they also had to suffer from the putrid odor that pervaded the forest. The smell came from the dead bodies left to rot instead of being properly buried, out of fear that they would become the ogres' next victim. She muttered curses under her breath and winced, holding her side. Her corset was cutting deep into her ribs. With each breath, no matter how shallow, she felt the corset tighten another inch.
"Enjoying yourself yet?" asked the man, glancing down at a map in his hand.
"Do I look like I am?"
"A bit of fresh air will do you good. You've been cooped up for much too long."
"Yes, I love the smell of rotting bodies in the morning. When you proposed walking around outside, I wasn't expecting this."
He moved his arm in front of her, stopping her from stepping into a large mud puddle. She bunched up the heavy, floor-length skirt and grabbed his hand to help her across without tripping or falling on her face.
"How can anyone want to dress like this? Corsets and long skirts…it's a nightmare."
"If it's any consolation, you look beautiful. Like a princess."
"I'm not one."
"Perhaps in another life," he replied with a cheeky grin.
The girl rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at humor. Continuing to follow the path, he warned her that they were close to a village and could encounter other people. He had been very vague about the purpose of their journey. All she knew was that they were planning to retrieve something from a purveyor of rare objects, one who she would rather never visit again. To ensure the success of their journey, he enlisted the help of his friends. An enchanted mirror allowed them to communicate with each other in case either group found themselves in danger. She was distracted by a soft rustling sound in the bushes. He quickly lifted up the hood of her cloak, covering her face.
"It could just be ogres," she said, dismissively.
"Just ogres? After all this time, I haven't seen you afraid of anything. I'm not sure if that worries or impresses me. Maybe a bit of both."
"You can be afraid for the both of us. You already act like a guard dog, thinking that I'll shatter into a million pieces if I get so much as a paper cut."
For a moment, sadness flashed through his pale blue eyes. "Apologies for going beyond my job description and caring about your safety."
He barely concealed the hurt in his voice. She immediately regretted her harsh words, knowing that he was only insufferably protective for her own good. If she had her way, it would not take long before she ended up in some kind of danger because of a mixture of her stubbornness, bluntness, and impulsiveness. His tendency to use words instead of rushing into a fight made them polar opposites yet it was their opposite personalities that oddly worked out well.
"You know I didn't mean it like that, R—"
"I agree that it may be ogres but let's not take that risk. I know what you're going to say. No one will recognize you here. Before we came here, what did I tell you?"
"That he could have sent his own men to find it first. It would help if you told me what it is."
"I'll explain when we get to the cottage. Trust me, this journey is worth it. Once we have it, he'll never bother you again."
She walked quietly along the path, keeping an eye out for any ogres or thieves. "Is it the hat?"
"We agreed that we wouldn't speak of that. It's better that it was lost all those years ago. If it fell into the wrong hands, it would be nothing but trouble."
"Technically, it's—"
A booming roar swept through the forest. He pulled out his sword and stood protectively in front of her. Two young boys, no older than five, ran onto the path, screaming for help. Seconds later, the trees were uprooted from the ground and tossed aside as if they weighed as light as a feather. An ogre stomped onto the path, easily tracking the boys because of their screams. He flicked his wrist. The two boys disappeared in a cloud of white smoke, reappearing in front of the girl. She tensed up when they hugged her waist, crying into her skirt. Unsure of what to do, she settled on patting the tops of their heads. The man flicked his wrist once more, conjuring a rope around the ogre's ankle to send it crashing onto the ground. He jabbed his sword into both of its eyes.
"I—is it dead?" asked one of the boys, sniffling.
"I'm not an expert but when something doesn't move, I'm pretty sure it's dead," she replied, subtly trying to get the boys off of her.
The man wiped the blood from his sword. "The compassion in your voice is astounding," he said, sarcastically.
"You can stop crying now. That will attract more ogres."
Her words only upset the boys more and she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. He bent down in front of the two boys. Waving his hand, he conjured two wooden knight chess pieces. She scoffed silently as he told the boys that as long as they held onto the 'enchanted' chess pieces, they would have the courage of ten knights. The boys smiled, stuffing the chess pieces into their pockets. A dark-haired woman, dressed heavily in intricate armor, emerged from the trees. Spotting the dead ogre, she placed her sword back in its sheath and walked over to the two boys. She reprimanded them for sneaking away from a safe haven, insisting that it was dangerous to travel alone. The boys muttered their apologies.
"My name is Mulan. You were the one to kill the ogre?" she asked the man, curiously.
He nodded. "Yes. I've always been good with a sword. I suppose twenty eight years frozen by that curse hasn't affected my skill."
"No matter how good you are, it is not safe to be traveling down this path. I have never seen you in the safe haven before. There's enough room for you and your companion."
"That's a kind offer but my wife and I were hoping to stop by our home…to see if anything was undamaged by the curse. Perhaps after that, we'll visit this safe haven."
The girl scrunched her nose, hearing him refer to her as his wife. "If that is what you wish though I doubt much can be salvaged from your home. The curse destroyed much of this land. The haven is not far from here. It's on an island, a little more than a mile away. Your skills with a sword would be useful."
Once Mulan and the boys disappeared into the forest, the girl grabbed the map from him. "Wife? Really? Bet you enjoyed saying that."
He chased after her. "It was the first thing that came to mind. I was focused on keeping our cover."
"You could've called me your sister or your friend. Can't imagine why you said wife. Maybe we should ditch this little trip and go to the safe haven. We can find Mulan and see if she has a talking dr—"
"Stop it. Jokes like that are going to make us stick out here. Besides, you, more than anyone, should know how exaggerated such tales can be."
By nightfall, they were nowhere near their destination. He refused to use magic to transport them, worried that there were enchantments to prevent intruders. They made camp in a small clearing. As she gathered wood for a fire, he communicated with his friends through the two-way mirror. They had encountered ogres but no other dangers. The plan was to meet near an old well in the morning. She tossed the logs onto the fire.
"Here's an alternative plan. We can go there without them."
"They're on our side. I've known them for a long time. They wouldn't risk their lives if they didn't believe in the cause."
"I don't trust them."
He chuckled. "That doesn't mean much. You barely trust me. It's okay to admit that you need help sometimes."
"I'd rather die."
"Well, I would never let that happen."
The girl shivered, feeling a chill in the air. Taking off his cloak, he placed it over her shoulders. He kept his arms around her for warmth. She listened to the various noises of animals, ogres, and a loud sound that seemed familiar but out of place in this land. The two of them fell asleep, leaning against a tree.
It felt like only a few minutes passed before she was woken up by a loud explosion. From a distance, dark red smoke rose into the sky. The smoke twisted into the shape of a triskelion. She glanced down, expecting to see her head on his shoulder but he was no longer beside her. Standing up, she was knocked back by an invisible shield. The shield surrounded her on all sides, keeping her confined to the small space. Seeing him by the campfire, she banged on the shield repeatedly to get his attention.
"They know we're here," he said, running over to the tree.
"I figured that out when I saw the symbol. They're being a bit obvious."
"It's a warning sign. Not many know its meaning but those who do will keep the rest away."
"And they trapped me so you have to fight them alone. Undo the barrier spell."
"I'm the one who cast it."
"Why the hell would you do that?!"
"Before you accuse me of thinking that you're weak, that's not the reason. If you use too much, he'll sense it and it will lead him right to you. I can't allow that. You need to be safe, no matter what."
"I don't care if he finds me. I'll—"
"I do! When I return, I'll lower the barrier. Don't worry about being spotted by anyone while I'm gone. I cast an invisibility spell as well. If one of his goons searches the camp, they'll only see the tree. You can yell at me as much as you like when I get back."
Silently fuming, she sat on the ground. She was thinking up all sorts of insults to throw at him when he returned to the clearing. Whenever she heard a painful groan or witnessed a burst of light streaming through the trees, she momentarily forgot about her anger. She resorted to throwing pebbles at the shield. Her heart raced when one of the pebbles near the campfire. Reaching her hand out, she realized that the barrier spell had been lifted but a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach discouraged any relief. She hurried through the trees. The man was lying on the ground, his golden blonde hair matted with blood. His hand covered a deep gash along his side, his fingers coated in wet, sticky blood, though that was not the worst of his injuries. She noticed that the veins in his skin, now pale as a ghost, were more pronounced and black.
"I scared them off but—the leader had a trick up his sleeve. One of his own design, no doubt. I never even expected it. He threw the powder in my face right before they escaped."
"I can heal you. Just let me—"
"No. I won't let you risk it."
The girl pounded her fist on his chest. "Shut up about risks! If you had let me come with you, this wouldn't have happened."
"It's too late for you to stop it. I can feel the magic nearing my heart. You've dealt with this many times before. You'll get someone new. I'm sure they've already made the arrangements. They'll know that I'm at my end soon."
"I don't want someone new. I don't want you to go. I know that I always get annoyed when you're being too protective or give me those lectures about peace instead of fighting but I don't mean it. I'm not good at…these things. I like your stupid jokes and the way your—stay. Just please stay…for me," she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
His hand cupped her cheek. "This past year has been the happiest of my life. Don't forget why we came here. You need to go on, no matter what. When you get there, you'll understand everything. Find the others. They'll keep you safe."
She leaned her head on his chest, tears trickling down her face. His hand cradled the back of her head, comforting her despite himself being in unimaginable pain. Though there was plenty that both wanted to say, neither of them said a word. His skin slowly crumbled into dust. In the blink of an eye, her head fell onto the soft grass. All that was left were his clothes, his two-way mirror, his sword, and the map. She cried out as a sharp pain coursed through her left arm. Her wrist bore a birthmark in the shape of a dove. The mark was burning bright red but after a moment, it returned to its usual pale brown color. She removed her own cloak, replacing it with his, and walked deeper into the forest, consulting the map.
By the following night, she managed to reach her destination, a shabby cottage near a lake. Its disheveled appearance hid the true decadence and riches inside, all belongings of the purveyor who lived in the cottage. He was known for shady dealings among the people in this land and many others and rarely settled for a low price. Peeking through one of the windows, she looked for the shopkeeper but instead saw a single man sitting at a wooden table. He appeared to be not much older than her though his appearance left something to be desired. The man was certainly handsome, with his unkempt dark hair, scruff, and piercing blue eyes. His mannerisms did not match with his tattered attire, including an oversized cloak and scarf, as though he was putting on an act. The dark substance that lined the bottom of his eyes was a dead giveaway of his true nature. Her eyes rested on his lack of a left hand. She tousled her hair and tugged on the front of her dress, exposing more of her cleavage. Entering the cottage, she panted heavily, pretending to be winded from running. She lowered her cloak, keeping one hand over her heart.
"Apologies, sir. I barely escaped from an ogre and as you can see, I'm not much of a runner. Is the shopkeeper here? I traveled a very long way to meet with him," she said, politely.
"Aye. He's been in the back since I arrived, which was about an hour ago," he replied with a thick accent, slightly raising his voice.
"I'm a very busy man, lad. These old bones need time. I'll be out in a minute," said a wheezy voice from the back room.
"To him, a minute could be weeks."
She giggled at his remark. The man grinned, pulling out a chair beside him.
"You should sit, love. You look as though you're about to faint."
"Thank you but I'll be alright. I was wondering…this may sound terribly rude but do you think I could meet with him first? I need to get back to my family before morning. My husband's very ill and the shopkeeper has the only cure for his ailment."
"My condolences but I'm afraid my own quest comes before any woman, even one as fetching as you."
"That is a shame. I'm sorry about your broken nose."
"My wh—"
The girl slammed his head into the table then kicked out the chair, knocking him to the floor. Her heel dug into his throat. She bent down to him.
"I bet I know what you're thinking now."
The man snarled. "A great many things, starting with how to keep the old man quiet if he sees me bash your head into the table."
"She's only what, 100 pounds? I could easily take her down," she said, imitating his accent.
"I do not sound like that."
"You're right. You could probably flip me over but I have a secret. In the heel of my shoe is a little knife. All I have to do is dig harder and that knife goes straight through your throat. If you don't want that, you'll stay quiet until I'm done. You understand that was a threat, right?"
He merely glared. "I'll take that as a yes."
The back door creaked open. An elderly man, with grey hair and a long, matching beard, stepped out of the room, carrying a wooden box.
"The map to the compass, just as you requested, sir. It is quite the perilous journey. I will remind you that you cannot hold me responsible if you meet your death atop the beanstalk. You've surely heard the stories about the giants. As for the information on the dagger, I'm afraid that comes at a hefty price that someone like yourself will be unable to—"
Seeing the girl, he dropped the box, a fearful expression written all over his face. "Artemis, how nice to see you again. Still a rotten little weasel?"
"Y—you can't be here"
"You, more than anyone, should know that it takes a lot to get rid of me. I suppose you were expecting someone else. Unfortunately, he didn't survive the trip. I'm not here to reminisce. Hand over whatever he came here for…the longer I have to stand in this dirty hovel you call a home, the worse my temper will get and you know all about my horrible temper."
"I'm afraid that will be a problem."
She grabbed a knife from the table. "Seven words that make me want to throw this right through your skull. Say something else to deter me from making you the target for channeling my anger."
"It's not my fault."
"Terrible start."
Artemis explained that barely a week had passed since the curse was broken on the land. When he was unfrozen, he discovered that his cottage had been ransacked. Everyone seemed to break free at the same time, leading him to believe that the intruders were not affected by the curse.
"I know who you mean and you're lying."
"They knew of your plans and stole it before you started this journey. Doesn't it make you wonder if their goal was not to beat you to it, but to get rid of your little friend?"
Her fists clenched. "Where did they go?"
"I've told you all I know. I swear on my life. I am deeply sorry but it was a fool's errand. When your friend sent me a message about his intentions, I implored him to see that such a mission would lead to his death."
"Heartbreaking, truly," said the man.
The girl smashed a chair on the table. He groaned in pain when she pierced his thigh with a broken chair leg. Grabbing Artemis by the throat, she pinned him against the wall. The man attempted to remove the chair leg, struggling with moving it the tiniest fraction of an inch.
"I don't believe you. If they already had it, they would've killed him right away. They showed up here first and you gave it to them. When did they take it?"
"L—last night. I did not want to help them but they are very persuasive. I could not refuse their offer."
"And what was their offer?"
"If I handed it to them, they would give me a magic bean. That alone is worth my entire collection of goods."
"You haven't changed. You're still a coward."
"And you still bring death to those around you. Not everyone can change, little dove."
"Don't ever call me that," she hissed, squeezing his throat.
"I beg of you. Let me live and I will help you retrieve it."
"You'll be too busy to help me, Artemis."
She slit his throat with the knife. He fell to the floor, blood seeping from the wound. Digging through his pocket, she retrieved the magic bean and hid it in her shoe. She left the cottage, wiping the blood from her hand with a handkerchief. Gripping the map tightly, she closed her eyes. A heavy force tackled her to the ground. The man was on top of her, holding a silver hook to her neck. Her eyes flickered to a silver ring on his thumb.
"It is not smart to get in the way of my vengeance. That man had important information for me."
"Sounds like you're expecting an apology. If you knew anything about me, you'd know that I never apologize. You're out of luck," she said, trying to move the hook away from her.
"I know that you made up that story about an ill husband. What man would tolerate a woman such as yourself?"
"Oh, is that a turn off? You do strike me as the type to like women with husbands."
"Give me one good reason to not plunge this hook into your heart and leave you as food for the ogres."
"Because I can tell you about the dagger."
"You expect me to believe a word you say?"
"You act all tough but your eyes show just how desperate you are and you're willing to take even the tiniest bit of information if it helps you to get your vengeance. I may have told a little fib but it was only because I needed something important. You can trust me...on one condition. I'm not talking until you move the hook."
"I'm not that daft, love."
Leaning close to his ear, she reached for a rock behind her. "The dagger is silver and pointy."
The girl smacked the side of his head with the rock. He stumbled backwards from the harsh blow. She let out a loud whistle to attract any nearby ogres and hurried into the forest, climbing a tree. Sitting on the highest branch, she watched the man follow her trail. He slashed one of the trees with the hook, muttering angrily to himself. She smirked as he stormed off and twirled a silver ring between her fingers…
~Killian~
Cora had given him a simple mission: to retrieve an enchanted compass. She had planned to find a portal to the land without magic but wanted the compass as a precaution, not willing to risk that the portal sent them to the wrong land. The shopkeeper did not possess the actual compass, only its location through a map. Luckily, Cora experienced a bit of failure herself. The portal, an enchanted tree, had been burned during a fight but the ashes that remained still retained the magic. To retrieve the compass, she sent him to infiltrate the group of women: Snow White, her distrustful daughter Emma Swan, the sleepy princess Aurora, and the warrior Mulan. He was meant to find out all that he could about the land where the Dark One was now living, called Storybrooke. The Swan girl quickly saw his ruse as a blacksmith and he switched his allegiances, promising to help the women get the compass first if they allowed him to join them in the return to their land. All he cared about was getting vengeance, not who accompanied him on the journey.
Killian was leading them through the forest, having memorized the map. His hands had been tied together with rope. The women may have allowed him to live but they did not trust him.
"How much farther?" asked Swan.
"It's over the ridge at the end of this path."
"And how do we know Cora isn't waiting on the other side of that ridge to kill us?"
"If she wanted you dead, she would've done it by now. Besides, I'm plenty capable of doing the deed myself. My hands may be tied together but it doesn't mean I can't fight. I told you that I would lead you to the compass and that is what I'm doing."
Aurora jumped at the sound of a loud crack. "W—what was that?"
Swan stepped away from the path, the other women following her. Mulan shoved him forward, keeping her sword against his back. On the other side of the trees, there was an abandoned village. Three men were standing around a gnarled tree. A girl was tied to one of the branches, hanging several feet above the ground. Killian recognized her as the liar from the cottage. He had not forgotten that night, how she broke his nose and tricked him into believing that she had information on the Dark One's dagger. For a brief moment, he glanced at his thumb, which was missing a ring. The little thief had stolen it before disappearing into the forest. One of the men, very burly with scar over his left eye, conjured a ball of fire in his hand.
"Start talking or I'll char off all that pretty hair"
"Can't we just kill her?" said another man, with graying dark brown hair, in a frustrated tone.
"Not until she tells us everything. You know our orders," he replied, appearing to be the leader of the group.
"I already told you. I don't remember anything. I slipped on a rock and poof. All my memories of the past few days are gone," said the girl.
The burly man glared. "What did he want with the box?"
"Who?"
"You know who I'm speaking of, you insolent girl. Enough lies."
"But I can't lie. I'm physically incapable of it. If I try to lie, I'll burst into flames. It's a nasty curse."
Snow was pointing an arrow at the burly man. As she pulled back on the bow, Killian pushed it down.
"What are you doing? We can't leave her there. They're going to hurt her."
"I assume all three have magic and unless one of you can wield magic of your own, you stand no chance."
"I have fought wielders of magic before," said Mulan, confidently.
"Oh, have you? That's wonderful but three at once? It's a death sentence. Not that I value your lives but I do value mine and I would like to live past today."
"Okay, I'm not siding with him but…he has a point. We can't just storm in there. Maybe we can distract them," suggested Swan.
The four women discussed how to rescue the seemingly innocent girl. Killian resisted every urge to propose that the girl deserved her fate. Such a remark would gain their ire, since they knew nothing about the true nature of this girl, and they would be unwilling to let him accompany them to Storybrooke. He listened to the men interrogate her. They asked the same questions over and over again, from What did he want? to Who else is part of his rebellion?. The girl continued to act clueless, refusing to answer any of their questions. Though all three men appeared to be quite bloodthirsty and willing to use violence to get their answers, only one, who was not much older than the girl and thin as a pole, suggested a more peaceful method of questioning.
"That's your best idea? Shoot an arrow to spook them into running off?" he asked, overhearing their plan.
"You got a better one?" asked Swan, crossing her arms.
"Yes, we continue on our journey to the compass."
"We're not leaving an innocent girl to die. That one guy with the scar is practically ready to chop her in half with a sword."
"Damon, stay with her. We'll ask him what to do with her if she refuses to cooperate. Keep your eye on her. Reinforce the barrier as well," he heard.
The burly man stabbed the girl, leaving the knife in her shoulder. "Hold onto that for now. Maybe it'll convince you to talk."
He entered one of the cottages with the dark-haired man, leaving the youngest with the girl. The boy paced around, holding his hands up as he cast a barrier spell. No objects, not even a barrage of arrows or the strongest sword, could pass through the invisible shield. The girl whistled at him.
"Hey. Stop ignoring me. I know you can hear me. I have to tell you something."
"You're finally willing to tell us what you were doing here?"
"No, it's not about that. Something else but I have to whisper it. It's really important. If you don't listen, your boss won't be happy. Think of how impressed he'll be if you hear this secret. You might even get to meet him in person. That would be amazing, huh?"
"If it's a secret, why would you tell me?"
"Have you been listening to me? I'm certifiably insane. I can barely keep my thoughts straight. Half the time, I even forget my own name. It's not like I can hurt you from here. I'm tied up. What can I do, kick you? That won't help me much."
Hesitantly, the boy walked over to her. He was at eye level with her and warned the girl that he was not afraid to use magic.
"I'm going to kill you."
The boy scoffed. "I'm not in the mood for your games."
"It's hardly a game. I'm being serious. I am going to kill all three of you in the most horrid ways imaginable. After I tear you apart, I'll string up your bodies so the ogres can play with them like little toys and when the crows start to peck out your eyes, I'll make sure that you're just alive enough to feel every bit of that pain."
Every word of her threat was said in a sweet, polite tone. It was even more unnerving than if she had screamed at him. Though he put on a brave face, he seemed to be very anxious. The girl pouted.
"Oh, don't make that face. You did kill my friend so it's only fair that I get to return the favor. Tit for tat."
"That's not going to work. You can't do a thing while you're tied up. I suggest you start cooperating or you won't make it out of here alive."
He returned to casting the barrier spell. She count back from thirty loudly, breaking his concentration.
"Stop it."
"Stop what? I'm just counting. Is it scary that I'm counting down the seconds to your death? Twenty eight."
"You don't scare me. You're bluffing. Shut up so I can finish the spell."
"Twenty two. You strike me as the begging type. That's my favorite. Which do you prefer? Head or heart? Head's a bit quicker. You won't even feel it."
"I'd prefer for you to shut up," he hissed, irritated.
"Someone's snippy. Five."
"Five? You were just on twenty."
"I hate counting. It's such a long wait. Sometimes, I like to jump ahead."
"For the last time, stop or—"
A pair of shackles fell from his cloak. Confused, he picked them up from the ground. The shackles glowed silver and clamped down on his wrists. Any spell he attempted was not able to break them. The girl tugged on the rope, lifting herself higher. Grabbing the knife from her shoulder, she cut herself loose.
"I remember you now. Two years ago…it's that same voice. It's just as irritating now. That whiny, pleading little voice. How can anyone listen to it?"
"Please let me go."
"Shut up and walk. Those shackles inhibit magic."
She kept the knife pressed into his side, forcing him towards the cottage. Swan stepped out from their hiding spot among the trees.
"Emma, wait. We can't get past the barrier," said Snow.
"There has to be some way to sneak past it. She'll get herself killed."
"And we'll find one but—"
"No, we have to go now."
"Emma, are you alright?"
"I just—I got this weird feeling like we need to help her."
"Best to ignore those feelings, Swan. They tend to get people in trouble," said Killian.
"I don't care. We're—"
Suddenly, a dove landed on her shoulder. A piece of parchment was attached to its leg.
"It's a message. Perhaps there were more survivors from the safe haven," said Mulan.
Swan untied the parchment. The parchment was completely blank on both sides. Aurora suggested that it was a trick by Cora and the parchment contained dark magic to impede their journey. Swan was staring at the parchment, wide-eyed.
"Emma?" asked Snow, curiously.
"You don't see what's on here?"
"It's blank. There's—you see writing?"
"It's addressed to me but I don't…Aurora's right. It's probably some trick," she replied, crumpling up the parchment.
"What does it say?"
"Whoever wrote it knows that I broke the curse. They said that I needed to protect someone."
"Who?"
"No clue. They said I'm like some protector and whoever it is will find me. I got this note because the protector they used to have…he died. Why the hell would anyone want me to protect—it doesn't even say who or what I'm protecting her from or—"
"We'll figure that out in Storybrooke. Don't worry."
Swan nodded and placed the parchment in her coat pocket. They heard sounds of a struggle inside the cottage. The barrier was no longer invisible, now shimmering like ripples in an ocean. Two men and a woman hurried past the barrier, stopping in front of the cottage. If they were able to break through the barrier, one of them was able to use magic. Swan was about to step past the barrier herself until Snow grabbed her arm.
"Wait."
The cottage door opened and the burly man stepped out, his hands covered in blood. He wiped off the blood with a handkerchief.
"What happened?" asked one of the woman, her white blonde hair cut short like a boy's.
"She broke free. Damon and Preston are dead. I managed to kill her."
"You what? You weren't supposed to—"
"Why not? She came at me and I defended myself. She deserved it."
"Those weren't your orders. We spoke to him shortly before we arrived here. He said—"
He interrupted the taller man. "What did he say? I'm curious. Did he call you double crossers who stabbed their friends in the back?"
"What's wrong with you, Bryant? You don't sound like yourself."
"I don't? I think I have a theory why."
His face began to change shape, losing its harsh features, and he became much shorter. Killian's eyes widened as he shifted into the girl. He never suspected that she was capable of magic. The three strangers were silent, the fear evident on their faces.
Killian noticed that the women beside him shared the same surprised expression. "Appears she didn't need your help, Swan."
"Y—you're alive. Good. We were worried," said the other man, his voice quivering.
"Were you?"
"Of course. You have the wrong idea. We were merely pretending to be on their side…all to—"
"I'm not an idiot. They got to it first and the only way that's possible if they had someone telling them about the plan. If you want to see your friends, they're hanging from a tree out back. If you listen really hard, you can hear them begging."
"You don't understand. We never meant to betray him. This plan was going to fail from the start. He was being foolish. Surely you heard a voice in the back of your head, telling you this was a suicide mission."
"You're right. I'm hearing it right now. Do you know what it's telling me?"
The three strangers were lifted into the air. They clutched their throats, struggling to breathe, and were dangling over the edge of a cliff.
"It wants me to drop you three little snakes off this cliff. Should I listen to it? I mean, you think the voices in your head were right. Why should I ignore mine?"
"Don't. We were wrong. We shouldn't have—he wouldn't want you to do this. We can make up for our mistake," pleaded the woman.
"You're right. What good would it do if I just let you fall to your deaths? I've thought of something much more satisfying."
The girl retrieved a magic bean from the inside of her shoe . Killian remembered hearing the shopkeeper tell her that he exchanged the bean for a special item. She threw the bean in the ground, creating a portal.
Her dark brown eyes glinted with mischief. "I don't need it. I saved it for an occasion like this because I knew I'd run into you three. How does this sound? I'm going to send you back to your boss. Don't look so scared. You should be happy that you'll be seeing him. You can tell him all about how you failed to get the box. How do you think he'll react?"
"He'll kill us."
"No, that's not his style. I bet he'll torture you for weeks, maybe months. He'll want to tear you apart piece by piece and right before you die, he'll put you back together and start all over. If anyone else had taken it, he'd just turn you into toads but he won't be happy that I got my hands on it. Before you think that ratting me out can save yourselves, our mutual friend made sure you couldn't tell him a thing about me…not even my name."
"We don't need to tell him. All that you've done here…he'll trace it back to you," said the tall man.
"Very possible but I'd have to use my own magic for that to work. I borrowed some from your friends. Have a lovely trip."
All three were thrown through the portal. As it sealed shut, the girl clicked the heels of her silver shoes together three times and vanished in a cloud of silver smoke…