The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Fifteen

"A key?" I asked blankly, uninterested as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Really, now?" He gave me absolutely no reason to hold his trust and every part of me was under the impression of false accusations. Not once had I seen a ludicrous wooden box in Pan's tent.

Parker nodded slowly, a grand, thriving smirk plastered across his chagrin face. "Yup."

I placed my hands firmly above my hips, leaning on my left knee for support. "And where can I find this 'key'?" I questioned further, using air quotes.

His devilish grin only widened. Parker searched his surroundings as if he was about to steal a valuable object. His eyes narrowed as his pupils dilated; he had spotted his target. He turned toward me once more, muttering, "I'm sorry." Before I could register Parker's words, he was pushing me down, his flat palms against my chest.

I collided with the earth with a thud. My bottom began to ache and I could already feel an enormous bruise forming. "What the-" I shouted from the gravel below. "What was that for?" I stood up, careful not to increase the pain, and brushed the dirt off of my bare legs.

Loud, obnoxious stomping perturbed my ears. "What did I tell you?" Pan lectured, fire in his eyes, as he marched toward Parker, completely knocking me out of the way. "Don't look at her! Don't speak to her! And definitely don't touch her!" Pan grabbed the lost boy's shirt with both fists and raised him off of the grass, his feet hovering a good six inches.

Parker sent me a look as if to say 'Hurry! Do it now!', but I was unsure of what he meant. His eyes began to quickly grope over Pan's body, shifting from me to his waist. I gave him a clueless expression, soon after following his gaze. And that's when I saw it.

An old, rusted, gold, metal stick hung from Pan's brown leather belt. It swayed heavily as Pan moved, gripping Parker's shirt harder and lifting him even higher. The deteriorating key was at least four inches in length. Two teeth-like rods descended from one end and a circular loop sprouted from the other.

I slyly smiled, briskly reaching to steal the key. Surprisingly, robbing a magical being who claimed to be all-powerful and all-knowing was quite easy, though I don't recommend it. I discreetly slid away, flinching slightly as I stepped on dried leaves and acorns.

I tried my best to casually walk back to the tent, smiling at or mumbling a 'hi' to passing, suspicious lost boys. The sun shone brightly above my head and I could practically feel Helios' mockery.

Like you're not curious, I scoffed, squinting up at the radiant, yellow star.

I gave my surroundings one last glance, swiftly craning my neck from the left and sweeping right, just in case anyone was warily watching. Feeling safe enough, I stepped into the tent, not needing to duck as I entered.

His familiar vanilla and mint scent caught my attention as I inhaled. It was intoxicating, nearly brainwashing me and forcing me to forget the mission at hand. I shook my head, clearing my mind and recollecting what I had to do. I continued to creep forward. 

Slow, but steady, I recited mentally as I raked the drawers and desks, unable to find said box.

I sighed heavily, rubbing the drowsiness out of my eyes. Foreign objects and doohickeys lined the floor, surrounding dozens of hefty, open chests, cluttered tables, and overcrowded shelves. I huffed, blowing the thin strands of hair out of my line of sight, and plopped onto the uneven ground, leaning on the base of the cot. After exhaling indecently, I ran my fingers through what clumps of hair I had left, lightly tugging on it. I sighed once more in defeat.

He lied, I officially declared. There's no such thing as a small, wooden treasure chest in this hut. It just doesn't exist. It never has, and it never will. And I knew it, too. I knew Parker was lying to me, but I still partially believed it. Everybody is right. Why am I so naive? They're all right. I'm just like Melody. 

I pounded my fist onto the dresser beside me in frustration, groaning in irritation. But I hit it too hard. Items began flying off of the shelves: ancient broken compasses, a long jar of mermaid scales, an old, bronze telescope, but what hurt the most was a small, rustic chest. It fell onto my left shoulder and I yelped at the sudden pain. The box landed on its base, the three gold knobs perfectly aligned and gleaming vibrantly as if to say 'look at me!'. Silver bolts traced along the ridges of the chest and the seemingly impenetrable, intimidating lock psychologically loomed overhead.

I bent forward, carefully lifting the small, wooden crate onto my lap as I crossed my legs like a pretzel. It was heavy, maybe a couple of pounds, but as I shook it, the objects inside, if any, didn't make a sound. It was almost as if the box was empty.

"Here goes nothing," I sighed anxiously as I removed the key from my pocket and stuck it into the lock. It clicked as I rotated the rusty rod, unlocking with ease.

My hands shook as I reached to open the lid. If what Parker said was right, this box answers the questions of my past. I shut my eyes, restraining myself from peeking as the unoiled hinges creaked. I didn't know what to expect, an old treasure maybe, but what I found wasn't on that list.

Rolled up inside of the chest was a sheet of parchment clouded with dirt from aging. A tight red ribbon held the sheet, preventing it from unraveling. The paper seemed so delicate that you could touch it and it would fly away like dust. I pulled one of the strings to the ribbon and opened the piece of parchment on which beautiful, thick, black letters lay. Almost as if a poem, it read:

Shall you neglect the strength of the ancestry tree,

The only heir to the throne of the sea majesty,

Whose history suffers a greater battle than this,

Will conquer the dull bliss of the brute demon's kiss.

Unexpected, the sovereign shall arrive,

Unaware of their ends and the leader's internal drive.

En voyage, discovering her place among the heartless ruler's quest,

The man consumed by darkness, beaten or blessed.

I stared at the sheet of parchment blankly as if it was written in some sort of foreign language. How was I supposed to understand this message? It's cryptic.

Parker was actually telling the truth, I admittedly realized. This is a prophecy.

I flipped the piece of burnt paper over, searching for an explanation, but to no avail. I reread and reread the sheet, trying to read in between the lines, but each verse was more perplexing than the last. As I continued to read it, I only seemed to grow more confused. But I was sure of one thing. If it wasn't about Melody, then it's about me.

I placed the paper onto the dresser and glanced back to the chest, rummaging the interior for anything else, but my heart began to beat loud and hard. It picked up speed as the seconds ticked on; with each passing minute, I was losing time.

All of a sudden, everything was quiet, except for the obnoxious sound of my heart against my chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" an accented voice asked, disinterest and mockery in his tone, though I knew he was angry. I continued to stand there, frozen. My eyes trailed to the prophecy, but it wasn't on the side-table where I had originally left it. I turned around, against my wishes, and refrained from making any eye contact with him. "Looking for this?" he asked again, fiddling with the fraying corners with his fingers. I felt like a deer in the headlights. He sighed in displeasure, almost as if he was sincere. "You could have just asked me about it. You didn't have to sneak behind my back, _____, especially into my own tent."

"How would I know that you weren't lying?" I mumbled.

Pan's eyes never left mine. He exhaled heavily. "You won't. They never do."