Chapter 3: The Toy Man's Scheme (2)
That night, as they were all settling down for dinner by the campfire, Ethan couldn't help but notice Bluebell's erratic behavior.
His eyes would twitch, and he would pick continuously at his blue feathers. Then, they had dinner - roasted Uni-Corn skewers.
His father's hunt had been successful yet again - and they had loaded the shelves with weeks' worth of Uni-Corn meat for salting. It tasted like nothing he'd ever had before! Soft and tender, yet sweet. He quickly finished and patted his full stomach. Then, Ethan laid himself by the fire; eager to feel its comforting warmth.
This was not a new experience, and maybe that's why it felt so deeply calming to him.
He felt drawn to it, that lovely orange fire; the way it flickered and grew, continuous and steady. It lulled him to sleep. He was so tired in fact, that he did not realise that the two shadows on the edge of his vision were arguing. One shadow's back turned in his direction stilled as the other shadow's voice grew in intensity. But there was no time to ponder it - his eyelids were simply too heavy, and with that, he promptly fell asleep.
When he woke up, something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
The curtains were gone, and so was most of the furniture. Sitting up straight, young Ethan felt his eyes roam his once-familiar home; now a shell of itself. Gone were the cupboard drawings and the carpets, the chairs and the trinkets; in their place were huge bokses, stacked high by the Garden Trees. He could hardly believe it.
Were they renovating?
He tried to locate his father in the house, but he was nowhere to be found. For every room he searched, his stomach felt worse and worse. Dread spread inside his heart, a small inkling inside telling him that whatever he found, he wouldn't like it.
He was right.
Eventually, he found his father - but he seemed so... different. Instead of his usual light green overalls and shirt, he was now wearing a stuffy silver suit and blood-red cape. His hair was slicked back, and his hood was down, allowing Ethan to see scars running from the edge of his jaw to his eye. He had no idea his father had scars...they gave him an unnerving feel. They made him look much more serious...and he wasn't used to thinking of his goofy father this way.
He turned his eyes back to him. Oddly enough, there was such an air of resignation and despair in him; that it made Ethan, who had known him his whole life, halt in his step. His silver hair looked so unfamiliar, styled, and prim; but the worst part was his eyes.
Usually full of mirth, they now looked dead.
Ethan felt his fears settle slightly; he rushed outside the house, to his father's side, eager to ask him what was going on.
Instead, he was treated to silence.
'Take it all to the address I gave you,' Ethan's father, Sterling Mann, barked at the poor Moving Geese. They nodded and began to cast magic to make the books levitate. Seeing this, he scoffed. 'Curious and curiouser... I didn't realize magic was required for such a simple task. How convenient,' he commented. A tense silence brewed as the Geese continued to do their work. He could tell the Geese felt uncomfortable underneath his domineering gaze.
Even now, Sterling refused to look at him.
'Dad,' called Ethan. Ignoring the silence, he tried again: 'Father. What's all this? Are you redecorating?' Ethan held hope in his heart that this was just a case of his father wanting new colors in the kitchen, and not what his gut feeling told him.
He wanted to ignore how oddly his father was acting - and even ignore the way he heckled and hurried those poor moving gooses, reminding himself that this was not normal behavior from his father.
Finally, he spoke. Sterling Mann uncrossed his arm, before turning his body in his direction, smile on his lips: 'Don't worry, Ethan. I haven't forgotten about you.'
Ethan's eyebrows furrowed. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
Sterling scoffed. 'I had a talk with Bluebell. He said some... interesting things,' he hissed. 'About not wanting to stay here anymore. About wanting to explore. Even talks of, going on fanciful journeys and leaving us all behind. You want to leave me, do you, Ethan?'
Then, his air changed. 'But I suppose the worst thing I heard was that spiel about following your destiny.'
He turned to the boy, hands clasping tightly on his shoulders. 'Who was it,' he boomed. 'That filled my dear boy's head up with thoughts of destiny? When you thought it all to be nonsense just a while ago? Who do I need to hurt,' his voice was frighteningly even, conveying a deep sense of rage.
Ethan's heart dropped, fear enveloping him. 'What?' Taking a step back, his father's jaw clenched, revealing barely held-back fury in his jade green eyes.
In his anger, he hardly knew what to do with his arms, shifting and turning, knuckles completely white.
Sterling Mann regarded him silently. He stated, 'I can't say I'm not disappointed, because I am. A son of mine, saying he wants to 'chase his Destiny'. Do you even know, Ethan? The sheer magnitude of what you said back then?' Quiet judgment laced his once-soft voice. He didn't have to raise his voice for Ethan to sense waves of disappointment.
It didn't make sense...all this for wanting to be a Tin Man like his Father?
Ethan took a step back, confusion clear in his hooded eyes. 'I, I just thought it made sense - that's how it works here,' he tried to reason, his father snorting in ridicule. 'Everybody has a part to play. I'm even meant to be the main character of my very own Destiny! I am very blessed, Dad. Not everybody gets to have as cool of a Destiny as I do, so I don't understand-'
Then, it felt like something broke his father. Sterling Mann, a once calm and stoic man, felt fury burst from within him, rivaling even the sun's intensity. He started to chuckle a long, bitter laugh, hand on his face.
'That might be the smartest thing you've said all day,' he snarled. Though the hurt was evident in his eyes, the words that came out of his mouth felt like lava.
'I mean honestly, it's like speaking to a brick wall. Ethan, listen to me! I know better, I've lived it! If,' he paused to breathe, ' If you are ever going to listen to anything I have to say, know this. Don't wish for your Destiny. Don't cling to it! It hates people like us. Destiny is the one that made me this way,' he gestured to himself, from his scarred face to other areas Ethan had never noticed before. His father's leg had an unnatural sheen of silver he'd never seen before.
He couldn't even walk properly...how had he never noticed this?
'Destiny will one day do this to you, too. I've shielded you from the worst of it, given you better than I had, so don't you dare draw Destiny back when I've spent seven years keeping it at bay!' Sterling shouted, vitriol tainting his words.
Guilt pooled in his stomach and Ethan felt his eyes become glassy with unshed tears. 'B-but, you seemed fine. You always seemed okay...Father, are you sick?'
Sterling just stared, eyes pained. 'In ways you can't imagine.'
'If there was ever anything I have regretted in this life, it was being born. I hate my destiny, and I hate everything to do with it. And if you don't want me to hate you, then you won't ever trouble me with such nonsense.' Finally, Sterling turned his back to him.
Ethan blanched. The shock of that statement hit him like a slap to the face. He began to inch closer, 'Y-you're lying,' he whimpered. 'That can't be true, you have to be lying,' he tried again, but the visage of his father's broad back did not change. It did not even move. 'Why are you being like this? So cold?'
'Tin men usually are,' he whispered.
A silence spread. Ethan, exhausted, couldn't help it when he asked, 'What now?'
Only then did Sterling say, 'Whatever you want. Unlike the rest of your life, the choice lies with you.'
He stared, 'If you cease your idiotic wish of following your Destiny, I will overlook this and we won't have to leave the Enchanted Forest. But if you don't...' he lingered, 'I will leave you behind. No son of mine will be a tin soldier, not while I live and breathe.'
Ethan's heart broke. This was his life's biggest dream, and his father wanted him to choose between his dream and him.
'You're making me choose,' Ethan trembled. 'Why? Why are you forcing me to choose?'
His Father's lips twisted into a bitter grin. 'I wish my Father had. Instead, he kept me in the dark about that curse until I could no longer run. He let me think I had a chance, a life to live, only to rip it away once I had already reached that Lion's Den they call 'Ever After High'. Listen, Ethan. For everybody else, life in the Main Lands is a joy. For people with happy Destinies, there is nothing to fear. You are not someone with a happy Destiny.' his father revealed, his eyes searching Ethan's face for understanding.
'Don't you understand? You will never separated from fear,' Sterling tried to reason. His voice was passionate, he cupped his son's tear-stained face in his hands. 'You'll live a life neither alive nor dying, always fearful of what's coming next. That is what lies before you.'
'Do you not want to escape that? I will protect you, I know I will,' he reassured.
'That's against the rules,' Ethan managed to croak. 'Why are you trying to do this, Dad? My Destiny isn't bad. You're talking like I'm to be the next big Villain! I'm not,' Ethan mumbled. 'Is it that bad I wanted to leave? I can let it go, just don't lie like this.' the boy begged his father.
'I'm not lying, Ethan,' Sterling snarled. 'You-' then, he paused. 'This is crazy. That Destiny is horrible enough. No matter how angry I am with you, I don't want you to hear the truth. Not yet. It's too awful,' he said, as if reasoning with himself.
Ethan regarded his father; the way he kept biting away at his fingernails, mind reeling from some far-away scenario.
He tested the waters, 'Did you lie to me? When you told me about my Destiny?' the young boy asked. His mind told him that this must have been a misunderstanding, but from the way his father spoke...
'You won't like it. You might hate me forever,' his father warned.
Ethan exploded in anger. 'Tell me! You have to tell me! I-' he breathed, sorrow filling him.
'Please. I have to know,' he begged.
'Oh, Ethan. I'm sorry for bringing you into this harsh world.' Sterling embraced his son, awkward and rough. He could barely see him anymore. Tears blurred his eyes, yet his heart was thankful. The pain on his son's face was too much to handle.
'Ethan,' he breathed, 'You aren't Destinied to be a brave Tin Soldier. You're meant to fall in love with a ballerina, and be so in love with her that you sacrifice your life for her, and you both die in a burning fire. You're destined to lose your foot once your tale begins,' Sterling's voice rose in intensity, 'Ethan! You will die for her without gaining her love, so entranced in her beauty that you won't care. And the worst part - the only thing left of your body will be your metal heart,' he ended.
Ethan's mind stilled. 'Ethan?' his father called. 'Ethan,' he tried again.
But Ethan couldn't hear him anymore. That was his Destiny? He was destined to...live like that? And die, so painfully? Why? That was just so cruel...!
'It's true,' Bluebell admonished weakly. His eyes were downcast, wings fiddling with stray feathers. 'Now, I'm sorry, Ethan, but I know just how much Destinies have hurt your Father's life. He is the only Tin Soldier alive in twenty-five generations; people might think he's lucky, but he's sacrificed a lot to even be standing here, breathing,' Bluebell continued to lecture, 'It's not an easy Destiny. It's dark and bleak - but there are ways; if you just do what your Father says, you can at least survive before Graduation Day of Ever After High. Before the clock begins, before your story starts! Ethan,' Bluebell appealed, 'Please...I know he's been...scary today, but your Father always means well. Don't lose your life to the Fairy Tales, not when we can help!'
Suddenly it clicked. Ethan regarded Bluebell, -his words and the shock of betrayal stinging equally harshly. 'You...you told,' he said instead. 'You made all this happen!' he accused, hotly.
Bluebell's eyes widened, but he was quick on his feet 'Now, I only wished to help,' he started, but Ethan interrupted: 'But you didn't! You caused all this, then you act like you didn't do anything? You're a snitch! A vile, cruel, evil snitch!'
Sterling put a hand before Bluebell, shielding him. 'That's enough, Ethan,' his deep voice boomed. 'Don't take your anger out on Bluebell. He only wanted to help me.'
Ethan hated the way Bluebell's feathery face brimmed with satisfaction. He was only happy he'd saved his hide from the fire that engulfed them all.
Ethan's ire grew. He could hardly believe his father.
'And I don't? All I wanted was to be like you,' Ethan sniffled. 'A brave tin soldier, protecting and saving people in need. But you're no brave man - you're a coward! And Bluebell's even worse. He can't tell his beak from his tail, always spying and relaying information about me to you. I-, I trusted you. You were a dear friend to me. How could you just betray me like that?' Ethan sobbed.
'Um...Oh, maybe we should take a break. Tensions are high. Can we not go inside and talk about it? You'll see that your Father has it all under control,' Bluebell continued to squeak anxiously, his awful voice grating Ethan's ears. He had effectively ignored Ethan's words, waiting only on Sterling's command.
'Let's,' Sterling agreed. It was then that something snapped inside Ethan, and he turned on his heel and ran.
Sterling's eyes widened. 'Ethan? Ethan!' he barked, but he didn't stop. 'Come back here! Don't do something you'll regret!'
'Let him cool off,' Ethan heard another voice say. 'When he's learned his lesson, he'll come back. He's only a child, what could he even understand? This is why you should've waited, like I said. I know better.' Bluebell chimed in unnecessarily.
'I suppose.' Sterling agreed.
Pained by everything, Ethan felt both betrayed by his father and former friend, but also hurt they would relegate him to a child once they believed him to not be capable of understanding their opinion.
It was his life! And now that he'd seen what his father was really like...He felt dread towards the future, and a hollowness inside his chest.
His dream was over. He'd never become a real Tin Soldier - only if he was lucky to survive, a sad bitter man, whose only friend was a lying magical bird.
How was any of this fair?