Ello, ello. It's been a minute, but I am momentarily back on the Chalant train. Let's see how far this ride takes us. I thank my love of fairy tales and manhwa for the ideas that flowed for this, and may the force help me have a clear mind and a better update schedule for this fic as well. I hope you enjoy the journey.


"Zatanna. It's time for bed." The woman softly spoke. She was beautiful. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back in messy curls, and her gentle baby blue eyes gazed lovingly down at the heavy bundle in her arms.

"Tell a bedtime story, mommy. Tell the one about the man who stole the crown."

"Well, okay," she complied. "But you have to go to sleep when I'm finished, okay."

She quickly nodded. The woman sat up and propped herself up against the headboard of the small bed. She pulled the young child into her lap. "Once upon a time there was a magical kingdom. In this kingdom, there was a royal family: the king, the queen, and their daughter, the princess. The king and the queen adored their daughter so much that every year they would throw her a ball."

"Why would they throw a ball at her every year?"

"Not that kind of ball, sweetheart. This kind of ball is a big party; where everyone dresses up in beautiful gowns and magnificent suits and dances the night away. But this ball was going to be very special."

"It was her 18th birthday. She was so excited. She was finally going to be an adult. A true adult; and be able to fill her mother's shoes and become the next queen with her hand-picked suitor. Her parents were going to crown her that night, but something happened."

"What?" Zatanna's eyes were wide in anticipation as she listened to her mother, deeply immersed in the tale.

"The crown of the queen, il Gioiello Della Famiglia, was stolen. They didn't want to scare the guest, so the royal family and the guards kept it a secret. Everyone was on lock down; no one could come in and no one could leave out."

"The guards searched tirelessly for the crown, but they couldn't find it. So the princess went to go look for it herself."

"She found the crown, but she also found the thief who took it. He was standing in the middle of her room, staring at a portrait of her that was above her bed, holding the Gioiello Della Famiglia in his hand."

"The thief didn't hear her come in, so she took advantage. She quietly sneaked behind him, very careful not to make the slightest noise to expose herself."

"But the guards picked the wrong time to walk by. Their loud footsteps startled the man. He turned around and their eyes met."

"He was wearing a black owl mask, decorated with painted swirls and loops of gold, beautiful and mysterious. Just like his green eyes."

"But they were so… guarded. Void of almost all emotion. Walls that were built up to the sky, but were just waiting to be broken down. The princess stared into those eyes for what felt like hours…"

Sindella drifted back to reality when her daughter tugged on her sleeve. "Mama?"

"I'm fine, sweety. I just zoned out for a moment."

"Did the princess get the crown back?" The little brunette's eyes were droopy, but she jerked awake when they drifted too far down, eager for the rest of the story. Sindella smiled at her adorable struggle.

"That is a story for another day." She kissed her little girl's forehead and turned off the lamp. "Sweet dreams, my little dove."

Six years later

For as long as she could remember they've lived in the forest. A small little home surrounded by foliage on all sides. A fruit and vegetable garden in the back, speckles of pink and purple asters on their left and right, and a feeder in the front yard for the birds and critters that happened to wander through.

She always found ways to stay busy. Helping her mother with her sewing, picking the harvest from the garden, learning what herbs can heal a stomach ache and what herbs can render someone unconscious.

Her favorite pastime when she's finished helping her mom was running through the forest like a woodland sprite, barefoot and carefree. Free as the doves, as her mother loved to say.

"Don't run out too far!" Her mother yelled from their front door. Her wild blonde hair is barely maintained in a high ponytail and her simple dress stained with smeared dye from where she's wiped her hands. Just as barefoot as her young child. Sometimes she would follow her daughter into the forests when her orders weren't as plentiful. Instead of running they'd leisurely walk. Sindella would point out and teach her daughter everything she knew: the names of the berries hanging from the trees they passed, the different types of mushrooms growing at their roots, the birds high in the branches just from hearing their songs. Today wasn't one of those days.

"Yes momma! I'll bring back some raspberries."

"Bring back some bloodroot too!" Her mother always made sure she had a steady supply of the plant. While it made for excellent dye, it also served as a healing herb, soothed inflammation, coughs, and worked against respiratory infections, but it can only be used in small doses as the red juice it excretes is poisonous.

She grasped the woven basket tightly in her hands, made sure her small pouch was secure in her pocket, and started into the forest. She leisurely walked, swinging the basket to and fro at her side until she was out of her mother's sight. Then, she took off running.

She was lithe as she moved between the light that shone through the canopies of the trees. She liked the rush of the wind whipping her hair and brushing her cheeks as she ran. You would say she was one with the forest if you saw the way she maneuvered through it, jumping over the winding trees' roots, climbing over boulders blocking paths, skipping from stone to stone across running water. She at least wanted to have a fun run before she had to carry out her duties.

The raspberry bushes were closer than the bloodroot. She dropped the basket in front of the bushes. While the berries at the front were ripe, the ones hidden under the brush were bigger and juicier. She had to get on her knees and crawl to get to them. Every other berry made it into the basket, the others were popped into her mouth for a quick snack. Her dress was splattered with berry juice and grass stains when she declared her basket was full enough. Next was the bloodroot.

The plant grows wildly in patches on the ground deeper within the forest. It's close to the stream with the cascading waterfall that doubled as the border of how far she could go without her mother's company.

For this trip, she slowed down to a sprint to keep the raspberries from tumbling out of her basket.

The birds singing grew louder the closer she got to the water source. More animals tended to stick closer to the stream as it's the closest drinking source to their natural habitats.

"Ah!"

"Oof!"

She landed rough, her side taking the brunt of the landing slide. Her arm was burning though. She rubbed her arms and her fingers came back red. Something must've snagged her arm,

"Oww!" She froze.

She didn't say that.

She scrambled quickly to her feet and backed up.

It was a boy, or at least she thinks so.

His landing was more unfortunate, rolling into the trunk of a tree. He was sitting hunched over with his back to the tree cradling his wrist close to his chest. Something was covering his face.

A mask.

The man in mom's story had a mask too, but he was an adult. This person was too young. He looked to be as old as her.

"Well that could've been a better landing," he hissed out.

"Are… are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Never been better. A sprain never stopped me be- wait." He paused, and looked up from his damaged limb. She was able to see the mask clearer. Getting a better look at it now, he definitely wasn't the man from the story. The mask wasn't of an owl but a different bird. His mask was more circular than an owl. It was black with highlighted hues of yellow and red. She's never seen any owls of these colors; nor has she seen any with such a petite yellow, black tipped beak.

"You're new."

New? She's been living here since she was born.

"And you don't have a mask. You're human."

"Huh?"

"Ugh. Does that mean we can't play around here anymore? Humans ruin everything." He started to stand up and tried to push himself up with his hand, but he forgot about his sprained wrist. He collapsed back to the ground with a cry, cradling it back to his chest.

"You're hurt." She remembered the small pouch in her pocket. She pulled it out and tugged on the little string that kept it closed. A small vial of honey was the only thing inside.

Of course she would leave her medical supplies at home. But in her defense, she didn't know she would be running into anyone else. She didn't even know anyone else lived in the forest!

If she stood still she could hear the sound of rushing water. The stream must be nearby. If she could get there, perhaps the honey could be useful after all. She just had to get him there. She shoved the pouch back into the pocket of her dress.

But when she took a step towards him, he scrambled back. It's when she noticed he was wearing a belt around his waist with lots of small compartments. He pulled something from one of the small compartments and clutched it in her hands. It looked sharp. "Stay back."

Zatanna raised both her hands up so that she could see them. It was something she would do whenever she came across animals she was trying to heal. He reminded her of a skittish deer she helped a few days ago. "I didn't bring my herbs. There's a plant that grows by the stream up ahead. I can help if you come with me."

"And how do I know you won't lead me to the stream and instead try to drown me."

What's wrong with him? "Why would I try to drown you?"

"Because humans don't like my kind."

"Your kind?" Out of all the times her mother has told her the story of the princess and the owl masked thief, she's never thought of him to be of a different race. Just a strange man who wanted to hide their face.

But…

"You seem awfully human to me."

"I'm not!"

"I don't know," she drawled. He was lanky and not much taller than her. His bird mask only covered the upper half of his face. His mouth and chin was uncovered from the mask, but his nose was shadowed by the mask's beak.

"I don't see a tail." In her slow approach, she inspected his form to the satisfaction of her curiosity. "Five fingers. You have human ears too."

She was closer now, close enough to see the hand holding the weapon was trembling and the tip of his ears were red.

"Your mouth looks awfully human too."

"W-what are you - hey!" She grabbed his wrist hard enough for him to drop the weapon. She tightened her grip and started to drag him along. Sometimes she saw her mother doing this to her more agitated customers, though they didn't usually carry weapons on them. She would usually blow something in their faces to knock them unconscious. A sleeping powder, but she hasn't taught her how to make it yet.

"Let go!" He struggled in her grip, but she wouldn't budge an inch.

"If you don't get your wrist treated right away, it won't set right in the future. Come on! The stream is just ahead."

He still struggled, just in small bursts. They stopped many times when he had struggled too hard and she had to reset her grip before going back to dragging him along; and as he was being dragged against his will, he had to admit, she was strong!

They pushed past some more of the thicket and there was the waterfall, a few miniature waterfalls that combined into one, cascading over long stepping stones of smooth rock and boulders. A little away from the water, she found what she was looking for.

"Is that Aloe Vera?" The plants were far away from the water's edge. They were arranged neatly in rows, obviously planted instead of natural.

"My mom started planting them here when a foreigner gifted her one of their leaves. They even taught her how to propagate them properly." She led him over to the small garden. "They said that they have healing properties."

She looked back at the masked boy and regarded the wrist she was holding. "I need two hands to do this. Promise you won't run away?"

His gaze quickly shot back to her. "Huh? But you-"

"I'm only trying to help. "

"...fine. I won't run away."

With that, she let go of his wrist. He didn't run away.

She squatted down to the level of the plants. They've been growing nicely. The leaves have definitely gotten longer since the last time she's seen them.

"Do you have another one of those sharp thingies?"

His lips twisted and she could guess he was scowling underneath his mask. "It's called a bird-a-rang."

"Do you have any more bird-a-rangs?"

He huffed, but he reached into another compartment of his belt and pulled out one of those bird-a-rangs. He was more hesitant to pass it to her though.

"I'm just going to cut the leaves. I have to skin it to make the medicine." He was still hesitant. "Hey, I haven't drowned you like you thought I would. You can trust me a little now, right?"

His eyes flickered between the sharp weapon and her. He cautiously passed her the bird-a-rang. She graciously accepted it. "Thank you." She turned back to the plants. Her mom wouldn't mind as long as she didn't touch the longer ones. She cut three of the shorter leaves off of the plants and laid them down on the ground by her foot. She straightened up.

Then she brought the sharp edge down to her dress.

"Wait! What are you doing?" The sound of her dress's skirt ripping was his answer. Now it ended just below her knees instead of sweeping her ankles.

"Making a tourniquet," she answered while observing the long strip of fabric, nodding when she decided it was good enough. She sat down upon the soft grass, laid the fabric across her lap, and started to skin the leaves over the cloth. The slimy liquid inside slowly started to drip down.

"My mom taught me how to do this," Zatanna started to explain to fill the silence. "One day I got too close to the fire while she was cooking and burned my hand. She showed me how to use the Aloe Vera plants after that. We always make sure we have plenty just in case."

When the spikey skin was shed and only the meaty, green inside was shown, Zatanna crushed it in her hands, mashing it to pulp then spreading it on the cloth. She picked up the next one and did the same to it. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out her pouch and the vial.

"What's in there? Poison?"

"Honey, actually. You wanna smell?" She tilted the vial towards him, offering him a whiff of the golden liquid. He cautiously leaned forwards and leaned back when his fears were put to rest on what the golden nectar was.

"Do you always carry honey with you?" He asked as he watched her spread the honey over the saturated cloth next.

"Not always. It's a quick fix for treatment."

"Do you get hurt often?" He asked.

"Uh, I'd call it more… grazed." She grabbed the two ends of the cloth. "Here let me wrap it."

Zatanna tried to be gentle while handling his sprained wrist, watching for the slightest tinge, much like how her mother would with her patients and teaches her to as well. Even to the rudest and most ruthless of customers. Tying the ends into a little bow, she stepped back and examined her handiwork.

"There. It should hold until you get better medical attention." She stood up and brushed the residue of her work on what was left of her skirt. "My house isn't too far from here. My mom can check out your wrist."

"No!"

"Huh? But what about your wrist?"

"I, uh. I have to get back home. I can get it looked at back home."

"Oh." So there's more people like him out here.

"Thank you for, you know, this." He gestured with his wrapped wrist, wincing slightly at the movement. "Bye." With that he took off into the forest, away from the forest and a completely different direction than they had come.

"Well, that was random."


"Remind me to never play hide-and-seek with you ever again."

"Dude, where were you!"

"Don't worry about it." Robin walked past his two friends, ignoring all of their questions while absent-mindedly rubbing his wrist and thinking of the girl who so kindly treated it.