Lost Girl || Complete

Chapter 9: Enchanted

    Finally, the conclusion that there was no getting off the island became real. Believe me, I fought it; rafts, smoke signals, even jumping into the endless mass and swimming. Nothing worked. Each attempt only ended with me coughing, sputtering, and losing hope. 

    Just when all seemed lost, I remembered something from ages ago… 

    “It takes Pixie Dust, sweetheart. You’ve got enough Pixie Dust, you can make it anywhere you want… even the Mainland…"

    What was it he said? 

    "You have to go out and get it from an actual Fairy."  

    Of course, I thought. An actual fairy. Maybe the secret had been in Pan's riddle all along. 

    But this time was going to be different - I mean, I wasn't about to ask the boys where a fairy might hangout. It was up to me to figure out. 

    Meanwhile, I gradually withdrew from the Lost Boys and all their shenanigans. I don't think I even noticed until they invited me to "dinner" again (for the first time since my second night on Neverland). Hardly interested, I turned them down. 

    Of course, no one expected me to show up. So you can imagine the shock on their faces when I strolled in, not a weapon in sight, and my brown hair let down from its usual ponytail. Two red-headed boys whispered for awhile then merged into the dancing ring; after that, no one noticed me. 

    "What’re you doing here?" 

    Or I thought no one noticed me. 

    The young man who'd gotten my attention smiled but seemed confused. He wore a sash over his bare chest which was painted with white, yellow, and blue streaks. I wondered if it had to do with his heritage, but more than likely it was a Neverland celebratory custom. 

    "I, uh, was invited," I replied awkwardly. 

    "Yeah I know, but… no one really expected you to show up." 

    I was surprised to hear this. "Because of what I said when they asked?" 

    "Uh… no…" He rubbed the back of his nearly-bald head. "There are those of us who figure you won't be associating with us much nowadays." 

    The hunt. 

    He seemed almost… embarrassed at having to talk to me about it. I finally concluded that what he was exposed to wasn't his fault and said, "Well, you guys made quite the stew last time, so I couldn't pass that up." 

    He eased up a bit and flashed a smile. We both turned and faced the ongoing parade of drums and conversation and dancing. 

    After a few moments, I glanced at him and, for the first time, noticed the scars on his arms. Then on his shoulder blades. He was way too fit, though, for them to be from battles gone wrong; he could destroy any opponent he came against. The scars were from rigorous training. 

    "Your name isn't Barosa by any chance, is it?" 

    He turned, shocked. "Um… yeah, that's me." 

    I just nodded and smiled to myself.

    "How did you know?" he asked. 

    "Oh…" I replied, not wishing to give away too much, "someone told me of your skill as a warrior. Your reputation precedes you." 

    He beamed with pride. Apparently satisfied with that answer, he folded his arms and faced the glowing fire that danced right along with the entourage. 

    After awhile, boys started demanding Pan's attention. "Play the flute, Pan!" "C'mon, make the music!" they shouted, pushing him out in the open. 

    "Alright, alright," he finally agreed. How happy he looked, laughing there in the middle of them.

    From the inside of his tunic he pulled a set of makeshift pipes. Crafted from bamboo shoots and tied together with green rope, they were actually beautiful in their natural state. You could tell he held them close; the edges where he gripped them were polished from untold nights of play. 

    Boys gathered around in anticipation. Even I couldn't help my curiosity as he got situated and kept us all in suspense. 

    Right as he was lifting the pipes to his lips… he spotted me. Through the crowd of already-dancing boys, he studied me for a moment, and I him. As if in response, he raised the pipes to his lips again and blew… eyes on me… the hollow tube echoing an eerie note. Then another. Glorious harmony melding each note into one fluid motion. 

    How can something so bad create something so beautiful? 

    He averted his gaze and continued playing as the Lost Boys kept time. One, two, they danced in a ring around the fire. By the end of it, not one bystander was left on the sidelines. 

    Suddenly, the music started pounding. What is that? I lifted my hand to my head to no avail. Something's… fighting… 

    That's when I got it.  

    Pan played his pipes and watched each warrior get lost in the sound. I don't know why it didn't have the same hold on me, but it most certainly did them. I wanted to rip the instrument right out of his hands, but something held me back… 

    It was eerily beautiful.