Peter Graham was just an english boy until he was stolen by pirates and taken to Neverland, the place inbetween worlds. There, he became Pandemonium, the fearsome fae warrior who started an organisation planning to otherthrow the pirates. But when P...
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Chapter Four - Freeze Your Brain Songs - A Sweeter Place - Selena Gomez ft. Kid Cudi // ok ok? - half alive
"I, uh, apologize for my formal dress, I have a meeting with another fae leader after dinner and she demands that I wear the formal attire in her presence."
"F-formal?" Pan could feel the older boy's eyes on his chest even from across the room and he frowned.
"Yes, formal. This paint marks me as a warrior, and it is formal to declare such when you meet somebody so you can judge who is the more advanced warrior." He explained, the boy only nodded.
Pan remembered when he'd first come, the customs had been strange, but not all that removed from what he knew. A couple hundred years may have made the divide all the more obvious, considering humanity tended to move away from the past and not embrace it. Of course, the short lifespan helped. God, listen to him. He sounded like he had a stick shoved up his arse, he needed to relax.
"So, who is the better warrior?" Asked the girl beside him, the boy's sister. Pan assumed that the youngest brother had been put with Carly, she tended to take care of the younger ones.
"I don't know, I haven't seen her for many years. Last time, I was better than her but by this time she might have has progressed past me." Pan winked at the girl. "But I could probably still beat her in a fight."
He always had bested Dandelion in their matches years ago but it had been so long since Pan had trained with the fae he wasn't even sure of his own rank among them. Was he still an ele'vants among them, or had his honor shrunk? He saw the way the fae looked down on him despite his hard-earned warrior status. He'd fought for that honour. Maybe he no longer deserved it in their eyes. Or, Pan thought wistfully, perhaps it had grown in all the time he had spent fighting since.
Fighting. Always fighting. If not with swords than words, and if not with words than fists. Even times that were meant to be the opposite of fighting still turned to a fight once the lights were turned off. The warrior's curse, to spend his life fighting.
These days one fight blended to another. Blood and bruises. Steel clanging when met with steel. A cry in the night that could have been a scream.
"The others will be here soon," Pan said, only now realizing how empty the room was and cursing Cailer for leaving him.
She had gone to check on some of the other L.O.S.T but hadn't yet returned. Of course not, she would do anything to avoid these dinners if she could. He couldn't blame her. Gods, Pan would skip this part too if he could, but he carried his responsibility and loyalty on a shoulder each. They were heavy.
