The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Two

As my consciousness slowly returned, I felt the warm soil fall between my fingers, reclaiming their place along the dry sand. My head ached from the journey and my figure pressed firmly against the earth-- my back sinking into the ground. I raised my body, letting my nerves sting my fingertips and toes, a refreshing breeze running through my hair in the dark of night. The scent of the sea entered through my nose as I inhaled, but the sounds of the forest flooded my ears: deer frolicking, eagles cawing, squirrels chirping with the occasional ruffle of leaves in the thick bushes.

I opened my eyes with difficulty, the inability to focus sending my mind into a frenzy. I felt the icy atmosphere sting my face, sending chills across my body. Out of habit, I pulled up my military green hood, hiding my ears and hair, displaying nothing but the lower half of my face.

I glanced around at my options: left-- the sea-- or right-- the forest. I contemplated for a while, either one seemed like a lousy choice. Sure, I did just fine in the water, my lineage said it all, but I was unaware of which creatures lay lurking in that ocean, waiting for someone as unprepared as I to turn into an exquisite meal.

The plankton laced waves crashed along the shore, producing a glowing effect, but dark shadows lingered underneath.

Eerily disturbing forest it is, I thought as I treaded along the pale sand. It expressed such beauty in the shadow of the glimmering crescent high in the dark, starless sky. Starless except for one bright, white dot in the eastern hemisphere.

As soon as I placed my foot down onto the wet grass, the distant sound of an object zipping through the air faster than light caught my attention.

Almost on instinct, I ducked as the object lodged itself into the bark of the tall oak tree behind me. My head spun toward the direction of the arrow's arrival, my eyes immediately searching for its source, but my hood still blocked a fraction of my view.

"Oh, well that's no fair," sounded a young male voice. My mind twisted in all directions. My heart pumped faster against my chest as if it was a prisoner trying to break free. "What's your name?" the voice asked, containing traces of curiosity and spite, "I was most certainly not expecting you."

Should I give him my name? What happened to 'don't talk to strangers'? My mind trailed off, attempting to solve nearly unanswerable questions.

"Well? Are you going to answer me, or not, laddie," he continued on, emphasizing the last word and confirming that I had spaced out entirely.

Does he think I'm a boy, I thought.

I was wearing a dark green jacket, its hood shielding my facial features.

"My name?" I asked aloud, muffling my voice with a hard gulp, trying to speak in the deepest tone possible for a girl of age sixteen.

"Yes, your name," he verified in an obvious manner, stepping out into the moonlight and revealing his position.

Although his face was shadowed, I could easy sense those familiar deep green eyes to match the surrounding terrain glaring daggers at my own. I could feel his judgement in my bones. Just his stare brought out my worst nightmares, my most painful memories.

His dark clothes resembled leaves and leather foraged into a somehow wearable outfit. His weathered brown boots were laced with red wiring up to the knee, and a green shirt loosely fit across his torso, his wardrobe seeming somewhat environmental as a whole.

"Um..." I was at a loss for words, unable to explain myself. I felt a new type of fear, one that I hadn't sensed in years, but it was difficult to place, as if something was guarding my memory.

"Do you not know your own name? These boys continue to grow dumber and dumber," he questioned me before muttering under his breath, clearly intending for me to hear. The adolescent male's light brown curls reflected the moonlit night, manifesting a dirty blonde illusion as he yelled into the sky a mating call of some sort.

Seconds after, younger boys descended into the luminous night, yielding their location as well, taking their positions behind their master. But what caught my eye the most was how there were no girls. Not one in sight. All boys. Boys whose clothes were tattered and caked with mud, scars lay across their young faces. Their hair was messy and uncombed, various height and sizes representing different ages and stages in their youths.

"I know my name," I shouted, taking offense to his prior comment and puffing out my chest in courage, which soon faded to nothing.

He raised his eyebrows in both amazement and disappointment before responding, his face immediately transforming to one of anger and resentment, "You will never speak to me that way. Understand?"

I knew his question was rhetorical, but I wished to press his buttons. To see the extent of his will. "Why not," I asked, once again in my failed attempt at a male voice, slightly anxious for his response. "What are you to me? My king?"

He shook his head in disapproval. "We don't have any kings in Neverland," he paused for more of an effect before completing his statement, "just me."

Neverland? Where is Neverland? It's not on any maps, is it? I thought.

"Now remove your hood," the male demanded, "and it will not be necessary for you to suffer, as much." He lifted his eyebrow as he spoke the last two words. He smirked as he glanced back at his army of younger boys.

I knew that anything he could do to me, my father had already accomplished. "No," I countered, realizing that if I detached my hood, he would notice that I was no boy.

"No?" He raised both eyebrows this time, his eyes widening, and straightened his posture. "Did I hear you correctly?"

He gradually stalked toward me, one step at a time, stopping when our figures were less than a foot apart. I could smell the odor radiating from his body, but nature was on his side. The faint scent of mint and vanilla filled my nose as I inhaled, unable to make eye contact with him.

I shook my head and fought through the fear keeping me from speaking. "Yes," I croaked as my voice cracked, portraying me as the weak and frightened girl I was trying so hard to bury. His glare was keen enough to pierce a hole through my skull the size of a quarter, at least.

He turned away and was readying to take a step in the opposite direction of my form, authorizing me to let go of my breath in a sigh of relief.

But my hope was false.

At a speed quicker than light itself, he reached out his hand and gripped the back of my hood, giving a quick tug and allowing my hair to flow out over my shoulders.

Not one did not let go of a heavy gasp.

"A girl?" questioned an older blonde boy as he stepped forward toward his boss, his height only a few inches taller. "This must be some mistake, Pan." The male with the curls remained silent, as if pondering if I truly was 'just a mistake'. His next actions are what took me by surprise.

"Why are you here? Who sent you!" He screamed at me as his grip held my body to the rough tree by my throat. The tips of his fingers embedded themselves into my skin as the stem of the arrow punctured my back. The torment sent a throbbing sensation up my spine, and the pain was mesmerizing. As if it was preparing my torso for paralysis.

"No...one," I managed to spit out, though everything was telling me not to waste my breath. "The shadow...it-" He loosened his grasp, allowing cool air to enter my lungs. But of course, it wasn't over. It never was.

"Put her in the cage," he commanded. His voice was drained of life and his tone a dreadful one.

And with that, he walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the forest once more as his footsteps faded, leaving me in the hands of his immoral minions.