The darkness fell away to death and dismay andthe remains of the fairies' once-mighty kingdom lay beneath the ruins of fire and ash.

Once again, he found himself cornered by the impending feeling of doom, watching helplessly as the cinders rained down from the heavens and the land lay barren andscorched beyond recognition and repair. He had stood here once before, seeing everything, knowing he alone survived in the wake of the catastrophe, yet uninformed of what tragic event had stolen the life from the land he loved so deeply. It was always the same. The same fire, the same disaster, but never the cause or the means.

He called above the stillness, his voice the only sound for miles around. The hills repeated his cry, tossing it on past the winter woods and far off into the mountains, but there was no reply, no signs of anyone or anything.

Once again, he was alone.

Once again, he'd come too late.

Only, this time, something about the scenery felt...different. He'd been here before, that much he was sure of, but even as his wings slowly began to lower him to the earth, he knew he did not recognize the place he was standing now.

There was no sign of the Pixiedust tree, standing or destroyed. Not even the roots or the trunk of Neverland's heart remained. No river ran through the middle of the four seasons; there were no seasons left to traverse.

Everything was gone. Blown away. Reduced to ashes.

Nothing could have survived such destruction.

So, why did he have the sensation that...somehow, somewhere...he was being watched?

"Help..."

Chills shot up his spine as a twig snapped somewhere from the deadened trees behind him and he forced back a scream as he twirled, arms already flying up to protect his face from a frontal attack. He didn't know who was out there...or who could have escaped the same fate as the Hollow...but he was determined not to let them catch him off guard. Not again. Not ever again.

But a moment passed, then two, and no blow came.

"Help me...please..."

The voice repeated its request. It sounded nearer now. Like whoever it was was standing right in front of him.

But when he looked, there was no one there.

He tentatively lowered one arm and then the other, blinking and letting his gaze dart from one edge of the clearing to the other. The shadows drifted lazily past, but there was still no sign of anyone, either in the air or huddled close to the dirt.

He slowly fluttered forward, confused, and eerily fascinated. He yearned to understand, to find the source of the voice, to help. If someone was in trouble, then it was his duty to do everything in his power to assist, not just as the Protector he once was, but also as a tinker. It was the honorable thing to do, the right thing.

But why couldn't he see anything?

"Please...I can't...move...they're...they're everywhere..."

The voice sounded weaker and, though he had not dared to take another step into the unknown, further away. It echoed off of the trees surrounding him and he flinched back, tensed and ready as fire began to slither up the roots behind him. He didn't need to turn around, he could feel the heat from the tongues, greedily leaping for him, watching his delirious retreat hungrily. He backtracked again, searching for a way around the flames, but they were moving too quickly, fueled by the barren land and dried riverbeds. They surrounded him in moments, pushing back his attempts to proceed into the shadows.

"Protector...over here...help me..."

It was coming from his left. The fire hadn't spread that far yet. He still had a chance. If he could just find the source of the cry for help, then...

There.

The billows of smoke momentarily parted, just enough that he could make out a small huddled figure resting against the trunk of an old oak. Forgoing his wings, he ran across the remaining uneven ground, skidding in beside the fairy and kneeling down to assist. The sparrowman moaned, his dark eyes barely open as he felt the approaching presence of another. Blood and ash lined his already dirty-blond hair and one arm and one wing were bent at impossible angles, obviously broken, but he seemed to be in too much shock to comprehend the pain.

This was wrong.

None of this was right.

A pale hand moved, reaching weakly for the terrified sparrowman. The blond wheezed, his lungs struggling to keep him conscious. His hand met the tinker's arm and both tensed. Two brown eyes peered into blue and the unknown sparrowman gave a raspy cough.

"It's...you..."

There was a bright flash of light, fire consumed his vision, and everything faded to black.

"ARGH!"

His eyes snapped open and his body rocketed upward. The force of his sudden upheaval sent him careening over the edge of his bunk. He landed hard on the floor with a startled grunt of surprise, his wings and limbs all tangled up inside his blankets. He struggled, head halfway buried as he thrashed with himself.

"Hggh? Whazzit? What's g'ing on?" Clank mumbled, shooting up at the commotion and promptly ramming his head on the frame. He sunk back down, rubbing his head and twisting tiredly to face his best friend as Bobble continued to flounder like a fish on dry land. "Uh...Bobble, what're you doing down there?"

Bobble hissed something in his native tongue that even he couldn't distinguish as he yanked the last of his quilt from his untidy hair and chucked it down, scowling blindly at the offending fabric and wiping away the cold sweat forming across his brow. "Nothin', Clanky. Just a nightmare. Everythin' is fine. Go back to sleep." He flailed helplessly for his goggles, legally blind without them. Clank frowned his way, but all he could see was a big blur as he heaved himself to his feet and began to feel along the wall. "Oh, now where are they?"

"Desk. Second drawer," Clank mumbled, already turning over and throwing his pillow over his head to block out his friend's clunky missteps. "You left 'em there again. It's too early for this..."

"Aye, I suppose I did...huh..." With that, the redhead carefully made his way to his nightstand, ignoring Clank's grumbling. Identifying the thick threads making up the straps of his goggles, he quickly pulled them on and refilled the dewdrops, waiting as patiently as he could for the world to swirl into focus.

There was no fire.

Nothing was destroyed.

Clank was still there. Everyone was still there. He hadn't burned the world to the ground.

Everything was okay.

Exhaustion rolled over him, and he suddenly felt as though he'd been hit with a cartload of tools and then promptly had Cheese and all of his siblings pile on top (a cruel prank Vidia had played on him after he'd caught wind of the girls' attempts to catch the fast-flyer off guard on her arrival day. He'd been the unlucky soul selected to keep her distracted while they had prepared a surprise party for her. She hadn't forgiven him for days afterward).

"What time is it?" he wondered aloud, already making his way over to the window and pulling aside the blinds. Nighttime darkness swallowed the sky and the stars continued twinkling their unheard songs between them. The moon was still young, hanging delicately over the treetops. It couldn't have been more than midnight.

"Too early," Clank repeated firmly. "Go back...to sleep. Gonna...wake up the Hollow..."

Clank was right. It was the middle of the night. He should go back to bed. Besides, it was only a nightmare. Surely it would be gone by now. His brain wouldn't play tricks on him twice, right?

Aha! Yes! I finally found you!

A scream tore from his throat as the voice erupted inside his head and he backpedaled from the window, landing hard on his back and earning a disgruntled pillow to the head from Clank as the sparrowman tried once again to doze off. He scanned the room panickedly, searching desperately for the source of the voice, for someone to be lingering in the shadows.

"Clank!" he hissed, fluttering over to the bunks and shaking his friend on the shoulder. "Clank, get up! There's someone in here!"

"Wha...?" Clank moaned, reluctantly sitting up and opening one eye to peer at the bedraggled tinker quivering like a leaf in autumn. "Bobble, what's wrong?"

"That voice!" Bobble exclaimed, backing away and pointing toward the window. "I was just standin'...didn't ye hear it?"

"Uh...no?"

Bobble groaned, twirling on his heels and making his way back over to the window. He hadn't even reached the sill before he felt the coldness numb his senses and his hands clenched as he braced himself for what was coming next.

He can't hear me, Phineas. You're the only one who can. I apologize for my sudden connection. It was not my intention to startle you. Most Protectors are accustomed to the telepathy and I hadn't even stopped to think that your case may have been...abnormal.

Telepathy? He turned slowly, still expecting to find a shadowy figure lingering just out of view.

Yes. You were a mind-reader once, weren't you? You understand the general concept of the talent, I assume.

Bobble immediately thought back to Shade and his attempts to lure the tinker to the dark side. He had used very similar tactics to this and Bobble had no intention of being tricked into that web of lies again.

But whoever this was, they didn't sound as conniving or as deceitful as Shade had been. But perhaps that was all part of a trap, a trick to convince him to blindly trust in some scary voice he didn't recognize.

Whoa, yikes, the voice hissed and Bobble felt a distant tug, possibly a recoil from whoever was on the other end. He messed you up pretty badly, didn't he? No need to answer that, I can already see it, but you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not like him. Here, let me show you I mean you no harm. I know your name but you do not know mine. My name is Scorpion. I'm a Protector just like you.

But Bobble wasn't about to be swayed just like that. "I've heard that before," he whispered, unsure if Scorpion would be able to hear him, but fearful of attempting to respond mentally. "The last fairy who said that to me tried to destroy the Hollow and nearly killed my friends."

Shade, came the affirming ripple of consciousness, pulled directly from thin air, though he was sure he had never mentioned the sparrowman's name. That would make sense. He never was very good at creating, even for a tinker.

"Bobble?" Clank was watching him worriedly now but he quickly waved away his concern, focused fully on the window and the distant pattering of rain out toward Autumn.

You knew Shade?

We met briefly, back when I was new to the Hollow, yes. Of course, this was before anyone knew what a Protector was. The Queen-not Clarion, for this was many years before she or her brother arrived. Her name was Starlight-didn't know what to do with me, having displayed every talent for the entirety of Neverland to see. She decided it would be wise to put my...uniqueness...to good use. I assisted every talent, filling in wherever a guild would need help. At that time, I, along with the rest of the Hollow, knew nothing about Shade's true nature or what he would turn out to be. Of course, at that time, he showed no signs of becoming homicidal or power-hungry. He was a pretty cheerful and quiet guildmate. Perhaps a bit on the haphazardous side, but nothing dangerous. And he was very meticulous with his work, even if it never quite came out the way he'd been envisioning. In many ways, you and he are very alike.

Bobble shuddered.

And then, of course, there was Scarab, Scorpion went on. She was a feisty one, always so determined to be the best. You have a fairy like that now, yes? She was the first Protector and it was obvious to everyone who knew her that she had a thing for Shade as he did for her. A real shame they ended up at odds with each other. And it was her power over the storms that ultimately saved the world from his dangerous influence.

"Did ye help? Defeat Shade, I mean. Ye were there durin' his betrayal. Did ye stop him?"

No, Scorpion confessed. At the time, we did not know what my talents were to be used for. I assisted the water-talents in putting out the fires and the pots-and-pans talents-er, Tinker talents-in rebuilding but I did not learn of the usefulness of my gift until a few seasons later, with the arrival of my counterpart, Asha. She was a scout-talent, and a very bright one too. She could do things the other scouts could only dream of. It was not obvious immediately, as I had unfortunately been unable to attend her arrival ceremony, that she was like us. But when the time came, Scarab approached her and offered to start a guild where fairies like us...the Multi-talent Guild we were called...could live and train together. The idea was to work together to understand where our powers had come from and why we were so different. In the end, Asha decided to go with her and I stayed in Pixie Hollow to continue with the repairs. That was the last time I saw either of them.

"What happened?"

Asha decided to leave the Hollow. She wanted to venture beyond what was known to the rest of us. She wasn't content with living in the safety of calm. She always had to be pushing boundaries or testing her own limits. Scarab said that, before she left, she was going to prove the existence of humans in Neverland. She never came back.

"So, why are ye tellin' me all of this?"

Because I want you to understand our history. I want you to see that you can trust me. I'm not like Shade. I know what he's capable of and I know he won't stop until he gets what he wants. You defeated him once, but I know more than anybody else how he always manages to find his way back again.

Bobble gripped the sill so tightly that his knuckles went white. "But he can't come back," he whispered, hearing the uncertainty in his words even as he braced and forced himself to go on. "Shade's...dead. I...saw him die." I killed him. Tink had tried to protect him by not telling him what had happened in the moments after the fight, but he remembered enough. He remembered the red, the blind rage as it consumed every rational thought, and then waking up, surrounded by the healing-talents five days later and being told that he'd won and that Shade was gone forever. He didn't have any doubt as to what had happened. He knew what he'd done. He just didn't understand why they would continue to pretend that he hadn't.

Dead? Scorpion prodded. Or simply delayed?

"I'm not sure I know what ye mean."

Shade is a Protector, Scorpion went on. The first of his kind. He would be exceptionally difficult to defeat to any permanent state. He's more clever than he appears and he's always five steps ahead of everyone else. How can you be sure that whatever you did do to him wasn't part of his plan all along?

A plan that involved the sparrowman actually dying? He had a hard time believing that. Protectors were often times daring, but they were certainly not kamikazes. He didn't understand what Shade's plan could have been that would involve such drastic means.

A Duality spell.

Bobble froze at the familiarity of the phrasing. "What?" he hissed, spinning around and catching Clank by surprise.

"What?" the sparrowman repeated, grabbing his pillow and holding it up in front of his face like a shield as he backed away slowly. "What did I do?"

You've read about it. You've seen the book, Scorpion concluded. Even as a disembodied voice, he sounded surprised. That makes things a little more interesting, I suppose.

"Ye know what it is?" By this point, Bobble was already running to get changed, all thoughts of sleep disappearing from his head.

I know some of it, Scorpion replied. I learned everything I could with what knowledge was accessible; what parts were not lost to time or kept well hidden by Scarab. She never really trusted another fairy after Shade turned on her. She hid the secret to the spell in what she believed to be the most secure locations in Pixie Hollow.

"And where are they?" the redhead inquired, reemerging in full work attire, earning a confused glance from Clank.

The pieces to the puzzle reside in the only thing strong enough to counter a Protector's power, Scorpion answered, his voice fading to a whisper hardly audible above the howling wind. They lay hidden with the bracelets of destiny.