Trudging through the jungle in a generally upward direction, Baelfire was determined to ignore the wood sprite trailing behind him. So far, despite the fae's gaze boring holes through his shoulder blades, he'd been doing a wonderful job of it. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and the sprite chose the moment he stepped into a circular clearing to break the silence between them.
"Watcha doing?" They asked in a surprisingly mature voice.
Ignoring the question, the thirteen-year-old paused in the middle of the clearing to stare at a knolled stump he could have sworn he'd seen before.
Baelfire looked behind him, past the sprite, and narrowed his eyes in the direction he'd just come from. Then, he swivelled his head back around and analysed a slight parting in the foliage that marked the direction he'd exited.
Not one to be ignored, the sprite skipped around him till they were blocking his view.
"Whatcha lookin' for?" they asked.
Baelfire switched his attention back to the knolled stump.
"A cliff," he answered.
The sprite titled their head like a curious bird.
"Why?"
"So I can jump off it."
Before the fae could say anything else, Baelfire spun on his heel and plunged back into the jungle to retrace his tracks. Behind him, the rustling of foliage and the plodding of footsteps preceded his unwanted companion's next statement.
"The fall would kill you, you know."
"I know."
Up above their heads a troop of screaming monkeys swung by, causing a bunch of individual bananas to land at Barelfire's feet. Together they spelled out 'TURN BACK'.
He pointedly stepped over them.
"If you're trying to die," the fae continued, "A dip in the Mermaids' Lagoon would be quicker."
Baelfire ducked under a tangle of vines.
"Noted."
"Or you could charge the Indian Camp unarmed."
He scoffed, "And let them waste an arrow on little ole me? I could never."
Instead of taking his barbed sarcasm as the dismissal it was, the "boy" dressed in illogically woven together leaves sped up until the two were walking side by side.
Baelfire, for his part, tried to shake them off by speeding up. Unfortunately, the sprite effortlessly matched his pace.
"You could always hang yourself on Hangman's tree," they suggested unhelpfully.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Pushing through some fern fronds, Baelfire came to a stop at a small stream. The fae watched him curiously as he proceeded to unlace his boots, roll up his pant legs, tuck his shoes under his arms, and wade into the knee-deep water.
"Why do you want to die anyway?" they called out as he reached the opposite bank.
"Why do you care?" he called back.
In a blink of an eye, the sprite was across the stream and grinning up at Baelfire.
"Call me curious."
Knowing the sprite wouldn't leave him alone until their curiosity was satisfied, Baeflire finished relacing his shoes, folded his arms and shot the creature a deadpan expression.
"Alright, Curious, " he snipped, "I wish to die so I can get off this island. Satisfied?"
A mean glint entered the boy's dew-green eyes.
"Dying won't get you off this Island," they stated, sounding quite matter-of-fact.
Baelfire raised an eyebrow, "And how would you know?"
"Because I've watched others try and fail."
He didn't doubt it. The ominous aura radiating off the supposed eight-year-old was the kind that indicated he was in the presence of a predator. Baelfire had been well aware he was in trouble the moment he'd first spied the fae watching him from the treetops.
He just didn't care.
"Well, I can hardly take your word for it now can I?"
The sprite put their hands on their hips and pouted. "Are you calling me a liar?"
"I'm calling you a stranger."
In response to this statement, the fae plastered on a sunny smile and swept into a dramatically deep bow. When they popped back up, they spread their arms wide like they expected a crowd to miraculously materialize and shower them with applause.
"My name's Peter Pan! What's yours?"
A sense of foreboding washed over Baelfire... where had he heard that name before? Had he heard that name before?
Baelfire narrowed his eyes, "It's none of your business."
Pan's winning expression hardened ever so slightly.
"Oh, come on," they needled, "Don't you know it's rude not to reciprocate when someone introduces themselves?"
"Let's agree to disagree then."
For a split second, the jungle around them was plunged into darkness as a red moon cast ominous shadows everywhere. Each one seemed to be writhing and screaming in silent agony, all while the emaciated man calling itself 'Peter Pan' looked down on them in contempt.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the world returned to normal, like nothing had happened.
A bird chirped merrily in the treetops.
"Tell me your name," Peter Pan demanded. Their smile was now absent.
Baelfire crossed his arms, unimpressed.
"No."
Tension filled the air as they both refused to budge. Both physically and metaphorically.
Just when Baelfire was beginning to regret entering into a staring contest, the fae suddenly burst out laughing. They laughed so hard,in fact, that tears began to pour from their eyes and they doubled over clutching their stomach.
A tad unnerved but not willing to show it, Baelfire stepped around the giggling fae and continued with his goal of getting the hell off the island.
He had barely managed to travel half a dozen steps when he found himself rounding a thick treetrunk to discover he was back in the clearing with the knolled stump.
"What will you do if I don't let you jump?" the fae called out.
Turning to his left, Balefire was unsurprised to find Peter Pan already in the clearing.
It occurred to him then that unless he got the sprite to leave him alone, he would continue to walk in circles forever. It wouldn't matter what direction he travelled, he'd eventually just end up right back in this clearing, grinning fae in tow.
Balefire dragged his hands down his face, letting out a groan.
"Why do you care?"
Peter Pan shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, no reason really."
Balefire dropped his hands to his side and clenched his fists. "Then why stop me?"
"Maybe I want to get to know you better before you shuffle off this mortal coil?"
He gritted his teeth.
"Fine. What would you like to know?"
Pan held up three fingers and proceeded to fold one down for each consecutive question they asked.
"Who you are, where you came from, what makes you tick-"
"Human. Enchanted Forest. Food and water. Are we done here?"
Not waiting for an answer, Balefire turned his back on the sprite and started walking in a random direction. Peter Pan, to nobody's surprise, dogged every step he took.
"What's your favourite colour?" they asked.
"The rainbow."
"What's your favourite food?"
"Anything edible."
"What's your favourite game?"
"The 'No Talking' game."
They soon came across a ravine bridged by a fallen tree. Balefire walked to the edge and peered over to see how long the drop was. To his disappointment, the ravine only went down a couple of meters or so. The fall wouldn't be enough to break a twig let alone a neck.
Pan joined him at the edge.
"You know, you're not very good at this," they huffed.
"What, answering your questions?"
"Finding a cliff."
Baelfire left Pan to sulk while he climbed up onto the log. Arms spread wide, he danced across expertly, never once losing his balance. When he reached the other side, he jumped down and began surveying where to go next.
"As long as I keep going up I'm bound to find one eventually," he reasoned out loud.
Pan snorted as they joined his side. "Keep telling yourself that."
"I will."
Of the three gaps in the foliage before them, the right one seemed to lead deeper into the jungle, the middle one noticeably sloped upwards, while the left one appeared to follow alongside the ravine judging by the way it disappeared around the bend. Balefire threw caution to the wind and picked the left one. He reasoned that if worse came to worse, he could always throw himself off head first and hope he landed funny.
"Are you still going to jump even though it won't kill you?" Pan asked.
They both skirted a boulder jutting out across the path.
"If it does, it does. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Either way, I lose nothing."
"Except your pride."
"Bold of you to assume I had any to begin with."
His next step caused the ground to give way beneath his feet. Without warning, Baelfire was sent careening off the ledge. Tumbling down the rocky slope ass over end, he disappeared into the jungle canopy only to come to an extended rolling stop face first in the dirt. Battered and bruised he rolled onto his back, unable to contain a wince.
"Ow," he groaned.
Slowly climbing back to his feet, Baelfire's shoulders immediately slumped as he came to realize he was back where he had started: The Clearing.
Defeat washed over him then.
Tired and aching, Baelfire shuffled over to the damned knolled stump, sat his rear end down and dropped his head into his hands.
Pan's taunting snicker echoed through the trees.
"You're funny, kid," they declared, "I like that about you."
"Lucky me," he grumbled, not looking up.
"I think I'll keep you, Balefire."
Baelfire's thoughts froze.
Ever so slowly, he raised his head. Peter Pan was smiling pleasantly.
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
The sprite's smile went from mischievous to predatory within seconds.
"I know everything there is to know about you, Bae ."
Alarmed, Balefire immediately tried to shuffle back on his stump but found his body suddenly frozen from the neck down. Pan advanced on their now captive audience, aging with every step they took. By the time they stood before him, they were a lithe eighteen-year-old sporting a cruel grin.
"We've met once before you know," they mused. "Of course, I went by a different name back then. So I don't blame you for not recognising me."
They eyed him carefully. "Does the name 'The Pied Piper' sound familiar to you?"
Unbidden, a long-forgotten memory resurfaced in Baelfire's mind.
He'd been young at the time, maybe seven or eight years old and still living with his father. He had heard a melody playing in the air one night and been drawn to it. He remembered sneaking out and following it into the woods, despite knowing he was never to enter the woods without his father by his side.
What happened next, he couldn't recall. But a cloaked figure playing the panpipes had featured in his nightmares for years afterwards.
(Sometimes they still did)
Pan's face lit up with triumph.
"Ah, so you do remember! Gold was so upset when he found you among my lost boys. He was oh-so-cross with me for trying to spirit you away to Neverland."
Horror sparked through the teen.
"...I'm in Neverland?"
Pan reached out and ruffled his chestnut curls, seemingly oblivious to his captive's building panic.
"Naw, don't look so down, little fire," they teased, "Neverland is great! I promise you'll love it here!"
The shell-shocked teen shook his head as his stomach dropped out.
"No… No, I have to go home… I need to go home!"
"Oh?" The sprite crouched so they were eye to eye.
"And where is home exactly?" he asked not unkindly.
Balefire, son of the Dark One, opened his mouth to reply... only for the words to die on the tip of his tongue.
Where was his home now? He had run away from his father... He had run away from the Enchanted Forest... Now he was trapped in Neverland, the Realm Between Realms with no second Magic Bean to get him out. As much as Balefire didn't want to admit it, even if he could leave he didn't have a home to return to.
He had nowhere to go...
Still, nowhere was better than Neverland.
"Shut up. You don't know anything!" he growled. Pan patted his cheek, tutting.
"Oh, little fire. Don't lie to yourself."
Baelfire's cheeks burned.
As if to rub salt on an open wound, the pied piper continued on.
"You don't have a family and you don't have a home. But that's okay. My lost boys will be your new family. You'll finally have a place to belong."
The fae titled their head.
"Doesn't that sound nice, Balefire? Don't you want a place to belong?"
Baelfire swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He knew if he opened his mouth now he'd start to cry.
So instead, he firmly clamped his jaw shut and glued his eyes to his lap.
"Nothing to say?"
When he continued to remain silent, the sprite sighed.
"That's okay. You'll realise you belong here eventually. They always do."
As Pan stood they snapped their fingers, breaking the spell keeping Baelfie still. The second the teen regained the use of his limbs, he was rolling backwards off the stump and bolting towards the edge of the clearing. He had just reached the edge when an unfamiliar boy stepped out of the foliage and blocked his path. Thinking quickly, he swerved to the left to try and dart around him. Only for another boy and then another and another to get in his way each time.
Baelfire was quickly surrounded on all sides.
"I don't want to join your stupid gang!" he yelled/pleaded as the circle began to close in.
The sprite just laughed.
"I think you'll find, little fire, that you don't get a choice."
In a last-ditch attempt to escape, Baelfire made a desperate lunge at the weakest-looking boy in the circle. He had barely finished shifting the weight off the balls of his feet when something hard connected with the back of his head. Ears ringing, thoughts jumbled, the last thing he saw before his vision blacked out was the sole of a dirty leather boot descending rapidly towards his face.