Fairytale Fate: The Legend Begins

♚ C H A P T E R • T H I R T Y - T H R E E ♚

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"Fantasy mirrors desire. Imagination reshapes it." - Mason Cooley
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Aura, Carolyn, and Bailey were at a loss for words at what awaited them as they walked through the wall of ivy into camp.

Dozens of the canvas tents were either ripped to shreds or burned to the ground in a pile of ash. The lopsided stands in the center of camp that housed the food supply and rations laid in a crumpled heap, robbed of everything aside from a few stray, mushy vegetables. The large pots that typically held the daily stews laid on their sides, their broth seeping into the dirt.

Residents of the camp were clumped together as they attempted to treat their bloodied neighbors' injuries with the miniscule amount of supplies they had. Mothers kept an ironclad grip on their children's wrists, their gaze as sharp as bear as they surveyed every moving thing.

"What the hell happened?" Carolyn asked, a knot tightening in her chest as she scanned every face she could see. He's not here.

"The Sheriff and his men decided to pay us a little visit," a deep voice replied. The girls looked to see Little John lumbering their way, his towering frame looming over them. "That slimy piece of cac waited for me, Will Scarlett, and a few other men to leave for our usual visit to Nottingham to strike."

"Is everyone alright?" Bailey asked as she rummaged through the small satchel slung over her shoulder, pulling out the few first-aid supplies she had brought from Earth.

Little John graciously accepted them as he led the girls deeper into camp. "For the most part, can't say the same for a lot of the tents, though. I guess he was tryna find ol' Robin, but the bloke hasn't been back since the last time we saw yous." He handed some of Bailey's supplies to a young woman who was hard at work patching up an older fellow with a gash along his arm. "A week ago a friend of yours returned a few horses and gave word that Robin was in her care, but she hasn't been back since."

Carolyn's stomach dropped and could feel stinging bile begin to rise in her throat. Has Althea not returned because Robin died? She felt like she was going to be sick. "How far is Althea's cave from here?"

Bailey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she thought. "About a week I would say?"

Carolyn placed her cloak's hood onto her head. "Then let's go, I don't want to waste another minute."

Little John nodded and led the girls to the bare grazing patch, where the three mounted two of the camp's remaining horses. They said a quick goodbye, and with a yank of the reigns they sped off through the curtain of ivy and into the late afternoon sun.

They travelled at a steady pace for hours, straying from the main path to lower their chances of an encounter with the Sheriff or his men on the off chance they were still nearby.

Carolyn perked up when the forest around them grew quiet, the birds in the trees seemingly going mute. She studied the ground as the grass became a pale, sickly shade of grey until everything around them was coated in a thin layer of ash. The faint scent of smoke lingered in the air, stinging her nostrils.

"Bailes...?"

"This is the only route I know by heart without my father's map," Bailey replied in a strained, shaky voice, her bottom lip beginning to quiver.

Through a gap in the trees, all the girls could see was a wide clearing where the shadow of a charming village loomed over the land in pockets of ash and blackened wood.