"The first step toward success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself."
- Mark Caine
LIL'S POV:
I can't open my eyes. They feel heavy - as if weighted down by something. I struggle to force my eyes open, but all I manage to do is get glimpses of the world around my through blurry peaks.
There are hands grabbing me all over, but not in a threatening way. They're all fighting to check on me - to get to me first. They all want a chance to see for themselves what's wrong with me. At just like that, the hands disappear. I'm alone, cold, until suddenly I'm blanketed by a warmth. Two, strong arms lift me up and carry me somewhere.
Blindly, I try to hold on to whomever is holding me, but I don't even have the strength to move my arms. I feel my head loll back and I have no control over it, but the person's arm gently nudges my head onto my chest. Somehow, I crack open an eye.
It's Peter who's carrying me. I should have guessed. He's always there for me. I can't think of one occasion where he's faltered. Even back in Ireland he was there to rescue me from my parents.
My parents. I have those... right? Yes, I must. I'm having trouble remembering what they look like. My Mother has... blonde hair? No, that's Peter. My Father wears... a hat? No, that's the Lost Boys. It frightens me that I can't remember their faces, but I do remember one thing. I ran away. I ran away because they did something awful. And if I ran away from that, than I am never going back.
I open my mouth to say something to Peter, but my tongue feels swollen.
"Aren't I supposed to be saving you?" I rasp, eyes closed.
I feel his chest move in a chuckle, "Not now, Lilith. This isn't the time for your jokes."
"My jokes?" I weakly whisper, a throbbing in my forehead making me see stars behind my closed eyelids.
Peter doesn't respond, but I feel the bounce of us walking. His chest rises and falls calmly as he carries me, and as I feel sudden chills rack my body I nuzzle my head onto his chest. The fire that I once felt melting my insides has turned into a blizzard, leaving me shivering and struggling for breath. Still, I cannot get my eyes open nor rid myself of the sleepiness in my mind.
I still can't figure out what's wrong with me. Why am I so weak? I feel as if all my energy has been involuntarily sapped from my body. Leaving me a fragile shell.
"Peter," I dreamily say as I feel darkness sweeping across my mind, "I don't feel good."
"I know," He gently responds, "Just relax. You need some sleep, that's all."
I try to shake my head, but my attempt fails. Unconsciousness sounding delightful right now, I give in to it's pull, and go limp in Peter's arms.
"Hello?"
My shrill voice echos off of empty cavern walls, bouncing back at me. The hollowness of the room and stale smell in the air tell me I'm underground somewhere. I spin in a slow circle, unsure of where I am. The gravel crunches beneath my feet as I take a step forward, and when I look to my left, I see an opening. My heartbeat picking up as I hear a shout from down the hall, I follow it. Soon enough, I begin to hear other voices.
Deep, hearty laughs reverberate in the small system of caves and men's voices travel into my ears. I press myself against the wall and make my way around the bend, and when I do, I see the pirates.
They're all smashing wooden cups of rum together in celebration, and squabbling over a barrel of it. A few of the sober men are sharpening swords, grunting inaudible phrases at each other, while some of them drunkenly toss pebbles across the room and erupt with laughter as they hit their comrades in the back.
Where the heck am I? How did I get down here?
I'm watching the pirates drunkenly celebrate, my eyes just barely peeking from behind the rock,when I feel a sharp sting in my upper shoulder blade.
"Looky what we got here boys!" A man from behind me shouts.
I grit my teeth as he pushes me forward, out into the open and in full view of the drunk pirates. Their heads turn to me, and I bit my tongue in fear as I realize I have no weapon, and they're coming right for me. They form a circle around me, slowly closing in with evil snarls on their faces.
"Stay away from me!" I shout, my hands flying to my face.
The second my face is covered, the scene around me changes. No longer am I in a cave with pirates, but I'm in my bedroom, back in Australia. My fuzzy, purple carpet tickles my feet as I stand in the center of the room. It looks normal. My television in the corner, my bookshelf overflowing with books and knick knacks, dirty clothes in a pile by the door.
Why am I here?
"Lilith!" My Mother calls, "Dinner time."
"Mother?" I say, scratching my head.
I cautiously make my way to the closed door, and turn the silver handle. When I open the door, I'm greeted by a wall of flames. A bright, red fire blazes outside the door and when I open it, the flames lick their way inside. I gasp, and run backwards. The fire follows me. I feel the heat on my face, burning my skin. I cry out, tears evaporating on my cheeks just as fast as they fall, until I suddenly fall backwards onto something wet.
I turn my head, confused as ever, to see I've landed in a pile of snow. I lift a cold hand of snow and look at it. The snow melting in my hand, I look back at the flames to see they've disappeared and have been replaced by miles and miles of flat, white snow. Shivering now, I push myself up from the wet mush and look around. The pale snow glistens from the sun that beats down upon it, casting a bright reflection into my eyes.
It's silent. Too silent.
In the blink of an eye, the wind picks up and snow is thrown everywhere. I feel the cold biting my face and snow plowing into my bare arms. My limbs are frozen solid as the snow storm rages around me. I bend over, sheltering my torso from the bitter wind, when yet again the snow stops.
This is getting bizarre. What the actual hell is going on? Am I dreaming?
The call of a bird pulls me out of my huddle. When I look up, I'm in a forest. Tall, beautiful oak trees loom all around me. Old-Man's Beard drapes from their branches and the sun illuminates a leafy wonderland around me. The floor is scattered with fallen leaves of different colors, and the air is laced with the sweet smell of hibiscus flowers.
The bird speaks again and my eyes find him perched on a low tree branch. His little body is covered in dark brown feathers, and his chest in a lighter brown. A tiny, orange beak protrudes from a honey colored face, and he looks at me. He turns his head, as if studying me, and opens his mouth. But now instead of a squawk, he begins to sing. A solemn but hauntingly beautiful tune that sounds familiar, but I can't place where I've heard it. The bird keeps singing, and slowly the scene around him begins to dissipate. I realize through a dawning memory as the dream entirely fades from view, that the small bird who sang for me was a nightingale.
When I groggily opened my eyes, the tune of the bird's song was still fresh in my memory. It's melody vibrated in my ears, disorienting me, but it was soon replaced by the upbeat sound of a flute.
Turning my head, I see Peter sitting in a chair on the other side of the room. He's got one foot propped up beneath him, and the other is slung over the side. I watch him take short breaths and blow them out into the unique, little pipe in his hands. He repeats the same six notes. Each time starting on a high octave, and skipping around until he hits a low one. It's a catchy song, I have to admit.
"Where'd you learn to play that?" I ask, hearing strength in my voice once more.
Peter looks up, a small smile on his face as he toys with the flute in his hands, "I don't remember. I guess I've just always been good at it. I've been playing it my whole life."
"And how long is that?"
"Don't know," He shrugs as he gets up and sits on the bed beside me, "A while."
Stretching out my arms, I sit up and yawn. I rub away a dried chunk of eye-dust and run a hand through my hair. Through some miracle or another, it's still in a braid. No annoying curls to deal with.
Peter furrows his brow at me, "What happened to you? I was waiting for you to come back with whatever you had to get and I heard the Lost Boys shouting. Then I see you on the floor."
I rub my arms, which are sore for some odd reason, and rack my brain for an answer.
"I'm not sure," I finally reply, my mouth moving slower than my brain, "I felt weird all night but I'm sure it's nothing. I feel better now that I've slept."
I look out the window to my right and see the sun is already up, "I slept all night?"
Peter nodded, "Like a log.
I cringed, "Please don't tell me I snored or anything."
"No, you didn't snore."
"Thank goodness." I breath.
"But you did talk."
"What!" I exclaim, "What did I say?"
I never talk in my sleep. There's the rare occasion where I snore, which is why I asked, but talk? Never.
Peter shook his head, "It was nonsense. A lot of babbling."
"Fantastic..." I sighed, swinging my legs beneath me, "Did you manage to get any sleep?"
As I said this I noticed faint, purple bags under Peter's eyes. He didn't exactly respond to my question, but looking at him clearer now I saw it. He looked exhausted. Drained.
"You didn't, did you? That's it." I announced as I stood up, "Get in this bed right now and get some sleep. Why would you stay up all night?"
Peter curled his fingers together in his lap and kept his head down,
"Do you remember what Bubs told you before you passed out? What he said he couldn't find?"
"Peter, what does this-"
"Do you or do you not?" He forcefully asked, looking up at me now.
I put one arm across my chest and bit a nail on the other hand.
What was it Bubs told me? Let's see if I can remember what happened. When I brought Peter in his room, I asked Bubs to find me Alina - I may be alright with diagnosis but actually carrying out the prescription was not something I wanted to do alone. Bubs left. Peter and I talked - really talked. Talked until we almost kissed, until I ruined the moment... again. But that was because I burned. I literally felt like I was on fire.
When I got into the hallway, Jonathan stopped me to talk about our kiss. Oh, by the second star. What am I going to do about that boy? He's one of the kindest people I've ever met. He's got the cutest laugh, and the softest lips, and he's a ball to be around. I'm always laughing when I'm with him. I do like him. I really do. But, I still can't tell myself I chose him over Peter -- and that worries me.
Okay, back to what Bubs said. So, after Jonathan tried talking to me I felt all woozy again. That pain made it hard to walk. What was that? I made it into the living room where all the boys were, Bubs came bursting through the front door and he told me about...
He told me that...
That...
"Alina!" I gasped out loud, the memory tearing my world in half all over again.
"She's missing! Oh my gosh, she's gone! Bubs said they couldn't find her! They looked but, she just vanished. Nobody could find her! Peter, we have to go look for her!" I cried as I ran for the door.
Peter flew quickly to stop me at the door by standing in front of me.
"What are you doing?" I yelled, "We have to go find her!"
He shook his head, eyes filled with sorrow, "I already know where she is."
"What? Then why are we still here? We should go see her. The fairy guards found her, right? She got lost or drunk or something and they found her in the woods and brought her back to her palace... right?"
I could feel the cry stuck in my throat. Peter looked at me, but kept his mouth shut. This couldn't be good.
"Right?" I said, a tear rolling out of my eye.
He quickly pulled me into his arms and held my head against his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Lilith."
Oh no. Oh by everything good in this world, please don't let this be true. Don't let my best friend... don't let Alina be...
"Is she dead?" I cry, squeezing my arms around Peter's large torso.
"No, she's not dead." He replies.
She's not dead. She's not dead! I want to shout off a rooftop in happiness and dance my way to the end of the world! She's alive!
I push myself away from Peter, wiping my tears, "If she's not dead, then where is she?"
He took a breath and put his hands on his hips, leaning against the door, "Have I ever told you that the mermaids are dangerous?"
"What? Yes. Jonathan has as well; it's because of them that he almost died."
"Right. They're vicious - deadly. That's one reason why nobody messes with them. They can skewer a person with their spears from on board a ship. They can sing a song so enchanting that you willingly walk into the water, where they drown you, and eat you. They're teeth are also poisonous, if you were to get bit, and they have a strength that is unparalleled to anything on Neverland."
I throw my hands in the air, "It's great to be getting a set wildlife tips about the mermaids, Peter, but what does this have to do with anything right now? Where is Alina and why aren't we going to save her?"
I was getting ticked off. I had to go save Alina. She is always there for me, my greatest companion, and now she's in some sort of trouble. If Peter doesn't tell me where she is soon and stop droning on about these stupid mermaids I may just slap the information out of him.
"Let me finish." He argues, putting a hand up. Impatiently, I tap my foot, waving a hand at him as a sign to hurry up.
He clears his throat, "Like you know, the mermaids are creatures that nobody messes with. Partly because of how dangerous they can be, and partly because of what value they hold. Yes, any old sailor would pay a big price for a mermaid -so they are valuable in a sense of money- but the value they hold is in something else. Something far better than money. Information.
"They know things. They trade secrets with other creatures, it's their form of money. If you ask a mermaid for a favor, and she decides not to eat you, you have to repay her with information worth something. Now, most mermaids spend their time in Mermaid Lagoon. They wait for the occasional pirate to find his way into their grasps, and they sing songs all day. But some of them, the few looking for adventure, swim to another side of the island where they meet up with me. On a weekly basis, we trade things. I give them treasure that I find -gold and lost things- and they give me any information I ask for. It keeps me informed on what's going on in my island."
"Great!" I say, "Let's ask them where Alina is!"
Peter glares at me, annoyed that I interrupted again. But how could I not? This story really doesn't matter to me. I just want to get out there and save Alina!
"Last night, the reason I didn't get any sleep was because I went to our meeting spot. It wasn't our usual meeting time so it took a while for them to show up. Even then, there were only two of them when there are normally five. Anyway, in exchange for a golden dagger and a ruby necklace, a mermaid named Amethyst told me where Alina was."
I nearly jumped out of my skin, "And?"
Peter took another deep breath, dragging a hand across his tired eyes, "Apparently setting off a gigantic explosion on the pirate ship did nothing to kill them. A good many of them, including the swine Smee, survived. How they did it, I don't know, and neither do the mermaids. All we know is that they made it to shore alive. Somehow, Amethyst explained to me, they managed to capture a mermaid. They dragged her out of the water, forcing her to turn human, and chained her up. They used this mermaid as a threat, saying that unless they were granted safe haven in Mermaid Lagoon, she would die.
"The merfolk are fiercely protective of each other, so they obliged to Smee's demands, and now the pirates have set up a camp in Mermaid Lagoon, with the forced protection of the mermaids preventing anyone from getting close."
I shake my head, stomping my foot in agitation, "Why does this matter? Why does any of this matter? Where is Alina, Peter?" I raise my voice, "WHERE IS SHE?"
Peter leans forward, throwing his hands in my face, "They have her, Lilith!" He, more calmly, puts his hands over his face and mumbles through them, "The pirates took her captive."
OMNISCIENT POV:
The sun in the clear blue, afternoon sky beat harshly down on the Lagoon as bodies hustled on it's shores.
Captain Smee whistled a chipper tune, twirling a set of rusty keys around his index finger as he calmly strode along the bank. In the other hand, he carried a small flask of whiskey that he occasionally took a swig from. And why shouldn't he? Today was a good day.
A splash in the water caught his attention, and he turned his bearded face towards the sea. Beneath the crystal clear surface he could see iridescent tails swishing back and forth, stalking him as he walked. But he wasn't worried. Not one bit. He had everything figured out. The mermaids wouldn't attack him or his crew as long as he held one of their sisters on land. Here, she was weak, and her powers had no effect. She was easily contained by being chained to a tree, deep in the forest where no other mermaid could get to her.
Captain Smee chuckled to himself, and whistled his tune a little louder.
He hummed, "We pillage, we plunder, raid villages too - drink up me hearties yo ho!"
And with that, he stopped and took a long gulp of his drink, feeling it's warm burn as it travelled down his throat.
"Cap'n," One of his crew shouted from across his new set-up, "It's all ready."
Captain Smee screwed the cap back on his drink, pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose, and walked over to the newly pitched tent he was called into.
Stepping out of the hot sun and into the shade of the tent made him sigh.
"Sure is a scorcher out there today," He wheezed, his wounds just beginning to scab over, "I know you can't see it for yourself so, I'll do my best to explain it to you."
The little fairy trapped in the glass jar banged her arms furiously against the sides. Her futile attempts only caused a soft, tinkling sound. Captain Smee chuckled to himself again.
What a silly, little thing. She couldn't possibly think she could really escape that jar. Though she sure wishes she could. So she could fly back to that precious friend of hers... that Kulethe...and warn her about everything she'd accidentally overheard. In fact, if she hadn't followed them to Mermaid Lagoon, she would probably be free. But fairies are stubborn, and when she began to overhear Captain Smee's plans she knew she had to stay and hear the whole thing. That's when one of Smee's men caught her in that jar, spying on him as he talked to his men.
Captain Smee walked up to the jar and tapped a dirty fingernail on the glass, "Stop that fussing, you. It'll all be over soon."
He stood up straight again and walked to the mouth of the large tent, "Soon enough, all your friends will be dead. One of them already has it coming. When the rest come, you'll have a front row seat, watching them all die. And finally, finally, I'll get what I've always wanted. Absolute control."
The fairy continued to bang on the jar, but Captain Smee wasn't bothered by it. Smiling to himself, he started to sing again.
"Hmm hmm hmm, and really bad eggs."
He opened his vest and took out the vile of whiskey.
Today was a good day.
"Drink up me hearties yo ho!"
A/N: Hola my lovely readers! Have I told you all how much I love you guys? I'm so so so so so thankful for all the kind things you all say and I feel like I've developed friendships with quite a few of you. Even if you never comment, but you read this story anyway, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each and every one of you ❤
I had my first experience with some hate about my writing (particularly this story) this week and it really shook me up. I felt awful. I didn't wanna write anymore. But you lovely people, you WONDERFUL people inspire me to keep writing. So thank you:)
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