Weeks went by in Neverland and still no response from Rumple. A part of me questioned if he would return in my dreams at all. Or if he was even there. The stories I've read about him did make me question my choice to owe him a favour. Apparently it's unwise, but it was either that or losing my brother for good. The only reason my thoughts were eased about this, was because I owed him a favour. One I'll most definitely have to pay the price for.
Days became more monotonous. Wake up, breakfast, train, work, dinner, train, supper then sleep.
Training has become more of a priority, which worries me more than the situation with Rumple. What if the War begins, before he tells me how to leave? Marcus can't fight in a war. Not even little Frankie can. They are children not soldiers.
After breakfast with Tom, we made our way to the training grounds.
Today's task was hand to hand combat. Great.
The training ground consisted of many things, including targets on most of the trees and a small shed that disguised as a bush when closed. There were various circles on the ground made of white chalk, for hand to hand combat. I noticed Peter leaning his shoulders on a tree at the edge of the clearing. He almost seemed stressed, but he still maintained a stern look.
I asked Tom, "What is Pan doing here? Isn't Felix the one who watches us train?"
The look on his face was written with the same amount of confusion as mine, "I have no idea. Maybe Felix is running errands for him."
We shrugged and made our way to the centre of clearing. A couple of boys were already there awaiting orders.
Ian stood by my side, "Almost the sixth full moon."
"Sixth?" I questioned in disbelief.
Ian turned to me, "Neverland has seven moons. At the moment, only five of them are full however when the sixth moon is almost full."
I furrowed my brows and shook my head, "So what? Don't tell me there are werewolves in here. This is my last straw. I can handle mermaids, but not werewolves."
They both laughed at how I snapped and I couldn't help but join in.
Thomas explained, "Once a month, on a new full moon, we play a game."
My shoulders tensed, "What game?"
"Don't worry, its just a game like man hunt or hide and seek. It's a fun thing to do after working hard all the time."
Suddenly a whistle was heard, Pan made his way so all eyes were on him, "So lost boys, Felix couldn't attend practice, so I'm taking his place. I'll be teaching you all new moves when your other opponent is armed. Can I have a volunteer?"
Everyone kept their eyes down.
"I volunteer."
I deep voice challenged the silence in the air. I look behind and saw a boy. Matching the height of Peter, he had broad shoulders and short black hair. He was almost as intimidating as Pan, if it wasn't for his friendly smile. There was something about him; the way he held himself up. As if he thinks he's better than Pan.
"Not you Adrik."
"And why not?"
"It's too easy, Frankie come out here."
The boys started snickering while Adrik's face went red. But I wasn't laughing. Neither Thomas, and especially not Frankie. He stood there in shock.
Peter spoke louder, "Frankie?"
Frankie came out from the tall forest of boys, "y-yes sir."
Peter smiled and passed him a sword that emerged from his hands out of thin air. Speckles of light following after it.
I had never seen him use magic before, seeing it before me made me shiver. It was only further confirmation of how powerful Pan is.
Frankie seemed just as tense as I, and hesitantly took the sword from him; obviously having trouble holding the weight of the thing. It was half the size of him, I had seen him practice with swords before, but they were small and dainty. Not like this one, it held an aura of authority and danger.
Peter clapped his hands, "So, if you opponent had a weapon, then your defenceless, right?" There were mumbled agreements in the background, "Wrong, you have the upper hand. They won't expect much of you, therefore they wouldn't put much effort to killing you."
He gestured to Frankie to lift his sword. He did.
"The first priority is to disarm your opponent." And with that he kicked Frankie's leg causing him to fall, in turn grabbing his weapon effortlessly. I almost stepped in to stop Peter from hurting him. But he seemed alright for now.
Peter pulled Frankie up from the ground to return the sword, "Now, if your opponent points the sword at your throat" Again he gestured for Frankie to do so, "it's wise to act cooperative. One clean cut on the throat can easily kill. Therefore, when they ask you a question, you answer with a question to throw them off. Eventually they will grow frustrated and you'll be able to do this" before we even realised it, because we were too focused on what he was saying, he managed to disarm Frankie by pushing him to the ground. The sword now in his hand and pointing it at him.
"Next time pay better attention." And with that he lightly stabbed him on the chest with the tip of his sword. I could see blood oozing out and Frankie hissing in pain.
That was enough to set me off. I pushed Peter as hard as I can, which only made him barely stumble and I went to check Frankie's wound. It wasn't bloody at all. Only a hole in his shirt, with no mark, not even a scab.
I asked in a worried tone to Frankie, "Are you alright?"
He nodded and Pan interrupted, "What was that?"
I stood up, "He stood no chance against you."
He sighed in complete aggravation, "That was the point, he needs to know how to defend himself."
If I was any more angry, I would be certain that steam would be coming out my ears, "He's a child. He shouldn't have to fight, especially for you."
Apparently I crossed a line. The sword was now pointed at my neck, threatening my throat. The audience behind us gasped, but Peter didn't care. If anything, it made him happy to know that he was superior.
He was exasperated, "I expect every single one of my lost boys to fight for me and their home. They will learn how to fight for Neverland or they will be banished."
"You are a manipulative heartless monster."
I could hear distant chatter in the background, but that wasn't my focus. Peter took his sword down from my throat, and walked up to me, "I am your leader and Neverland is home to Lost Boys. If you are not willing to fight for your home, then you are not a Lost Boy."
I stayed silent and he was unnervingly close to me. Our eyes connected and the tension was thick.
Before I knew it, he clawed my wounded wrist and dragged me out the training ground. One last glance at Thomas was all I got.
"W-where am I going?"
"You questioned my leadership and authority. For that, I'm sending you to the cage."
I tried to maintain an unaffected voice, "How long?"
We stopped when the cage was in sight, "However long I deem fit. I could have banished you, so be thankful. While your in there, understand that I'm not the villain. I'm protecting our home. Neverland is as much as the Lost Boy's home as much as it is mine."
He threw me in the cage and locked it. I was too infuriated to look scared and he noticed it. He grabbed the bamboo sticks of the cage and asked, "What is it with you?"
Staying composed, I answered, "What do you mean?"
"You're different. The way you refer to the other lost boys. You call them 'children', not 'friends'. And your protective nature over Frankie and taking the punishment for Marcus. You act like they're your responsibility."
I tried to steer the conversation, "Don't be absurd, I just don't like to see people in pain, especially those who can't protect themselves."
"That's precisely why I'm doing all this. You saw Frankie, the sword was enchanted to seem dangerous but the wounds it inflicts only take seconds to heal. If I expect the Lost Boys to fight, then they need to experience pain."
I needed to know the truth, "Fight? Fight for what exactly?"
He knew I wouldn't back down from the conversation, so he was honest, "A war."
"You expect children to fight in a war?" My voice breaking at the thought. What the mermaids said was true.
"It's not my choice. Neverland has been home to us for centuries. Most of us might look like children, but are beyond our age." Peter irritatedly
I was astonished, "Centuries? How?"
He laughed as if it was obvious, "Time stays still here. Frankie might look twelve, but he's more or less five times your age."
I stayed quiet not knowing how to process this, until I realised I needed more answers, "How do you know that there's a war? Who are we fighting?"
He began to stray away from my cage, "Well, I'm not entirely sure. There is a myth, or in other words a prophecy that the long-time folks of Neverland believe in. It states a war."
"What makes you so sure that the prophecy is true?"
"It predicted my arrival."
"What about-"
He interrupted, "That's all the information I'm trusting you with."
I started thinking, "Why are you telling me this? I clearly disagree with your actions and opposed you."
He smirked, "Now your asking the good questions. You see, like I've said before, you are different. I've never had to earn trust with my lost boys. I saved them from their broken homes, that's enough for their trust. But you are different, I saved you and even reunited you with your brother. However, I have yet to earn your trust, why is that?"
"People have betrayed me in the past. Trust needs to be earned, not given."
He nodded and was about to leave until I stopped him, "Will you tell them about the war?"
The look he gave me was different this time. It wasn't intimidating, nor pent up anger: it looked almost like respect. "I do intend on doing so. But please, let me do it. I don't want this information coming from a disobedient lost boy."
I nodded in agreement and he left. Leaving me alone in the cage once again.
Three days.
The third night in the cage was the worst. My fingers had developed a new shade of purple and I could've sworn my ears would've fallen off if it was any colder. I was also hungry. I was given food, but it seemed to be leftovers. For means of comfort, I tried to imagine something to eat. I thought of a cheese and onion sandwich. I know it wasn't creative, but I thought deeply about the crust touching my lips and the distinctive taste of the onions.
My eyes were closed in a effort to fall asleep, however I felt something light weighing my hands. I opened them to find a sandwich laying in my palm. I had to pinch myself. I couldn't comprehend what I just did, but I didn't care. I just ate it till my heart's content.
I finished it in record time. Although I was full, I attempted to make another. Closing my eyes and thinking hard. I opened them to find nothing. Disappointed with myself after a couple of tries, eventually I fell asleep.
Either I've grown or this cage is getting smaller. Thomas or Ian, sometimes even Frankie, come to keep me company during their breaks. However, training seems to have taken over most of their free time. Marcus even visited once. He was unusually nice and spoke about nonsense for the duration of his stay. It was comforting to know my relationship with my brother was restored.
When I asked about any news, they didn't mention the war. It was safe it assume Peter hasn't told them.
I was playing with a frayed end of my shirt; completely oblivious to the sound of rattling against the lock of my cage.
Speak of the devil.
The cage opened and he noticed I didn't immediately leave, "Enjoying yourself?" He asked.
"You haven't told them yet." I grudgingly said.
He sighed, "I plan on it tonight. Now get out before I lose my patience. You need to train."
I left the cage and was heading to the training grounds, until a hand on my wrist stopped me.
"Please don't do anything you'd regret."
He could be implying many things, but I was certain it was about keeping his secret about the war.
I made it to the clearing and noticed the boys doing archery.
Frankie was the first to see me and waved. I waved back and headed to the shed made of bamboo and was covered in a green tarp of sorts. Inside was a weaponry hung on the wall; various swords of different lengths; daggers of different colours; bows and crossbows and much more I didn't understand the use of.
I stood in front of various bows bamboozled.
"Need help?" Ian made his way in and noticed my obvious struggle. I nodded and let him pick one out for me. He handed me one half my size and a quiver. I took it gladly and we made our way out. I found a target post not far from Ian and Thomas saw me in the distance. He gave a quick smile and presumed his training.
Pivoting my heel in the dry soil and jamming an arrow onto the string. I stretched my arms and aimed for the target. Delicately, I let go, the arrow hits the rim of the target. I internally scold myself.
"Well done." Ian rewards, yet I look unimpressed, "You don't seem too happy with yourself."
I answer, "Because I'm not."
"Don't be so hard on yourse-"
"That was weak."
"What? You hit the target. Most boys can't do that in the first week of target-"
A loud voice erupted from the end of the clearing and I took a glance. Peter was criticising Charlie like a child. I saw an arrow stuck in a tree, above his target. I ignored them and carried on with my practice; every once in a while I would hear a degrading comment from Peter's lips. I wanted to tell him to suck a dick. Sniggering at the thought which didn't go unnoticed by Peter.
He came up to me, "What seems to be the problem?"
"Nothing." I answered abruptly. I just came out of the cage and didn't have any plans on going back in there.
He shouted in my ear, "THEN SHOOT."
I jumped at his words and obeying went back to shooting. I hated it. The way he had control over me. The way I had to submit. It was paining me to the core. But if I wanted to make it out alive, I knew this was the way.
I thanked whatever is good and mighty that caused training to end. We were walking to camp, Thomas and I at the far back of the line. He talking about Peter being edge recently, but I was too busy in my own thoughts.
"Earth to A.J."
I shook my head, then looked to him, "what?"
"Do you know why Pan is acting like this?"
I tried to shrug it off, although I hate lies, "I don't know, I don't really see a difference."
He immediately knew something was up, so I changed the subject.
"Last night, I accidentally used 'you know what'." I looked toward the others and they seemed to be a safe enough distance to talk.
Thomas's face lit up like it was Christmas, "what did you do?"
My face going red at the thought, "I made a sandwich appear."
He took a second to process it, "what kind?" He replied with a chuckle.
I nudged him, "I'm serious. This is scaring me slightly."
"You scared of a sandwich?"
"Shut up."
He stayed silent for a while, "we need to practice your magic."
I groaned, "I've seriously have had enough of that today."
"Stop being grumpy, some people would kill for your powers."
I resorted to silence, knowing fully well that he wasn't going to back down. He huffed and finally we made it to camp.
During supper, Peter had an announcement to make.
He made his way to the front of the fire pit and spoke loudly, "My Lost Boys, I have reason to believe some foul souls wish to take over our home. We will not stand for this. Neverland is our rightful home, therefore I expect you to fight for it alongside me. Live up to your title as a lost boy and defeat what scum that intends on defeating us."
He raised his hand in a fist, "For Neverland!"
"For Neverland!" The boys around me repeated.
I was dumbstruck at how easy it was for him to manipulate these kids to fight in a war for him. It made me sick to my gut.
After Peter's ludicrous speech, he brought out his pipes and began to play a slow, but thrilling tune.
One by one, the boys began to dance around the fire. A frenzy began to twist and turn in the pit of my stomach as I resisted the temptation to dance along. I strayed away from the fire, looking amongst the celebration. All the boys were so lost in the music as they danced around the fire, they didn't notice me from the back of the clearing amongst the trees.
Peter saw me through the passing of lost boys at the front of the fire pit. I was sitting on a log, near the edge of the clearing. He gazed at me uneasily, as if I was his prey. He walked closer to me with the pipe still humming from his lips. I stood up and squinted my eyes; trying my best to figure out what his intentions are. My breaths were unsteady. The closer he got, the louder his tune became. Before I knew it my foot was tapping. I stopped it, however the smug look on his face told me that he saw.
Now he was less than a foot away from me now. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a blade. The flute descends from his lips and he gazes into my eyes deeply. As if he could see me, my identity, my past and every single one of my secrets. My thoughts were left blank as he tilted his head to the side, although his eyes were intense, the look on his face spoke confusion.
To my relief, he diminished the silence, "Too tired to dance, my lost boy?"
My voice was failing me, so I nodded like a child. My heart was beating a million per second and I couldn't understand why. I was beginning to notice the flakes of light hazelnut that reflected in his hair from the light behind him. The forest green his eyes beheld, but the turquoise lagoon that rimmed around it. The dainty creases on his forehead that resembled my father's. His broad shoulders that were not so much as tense anymore, nervous maybe?
His words were gentle, but chilling, "Your intimidation is a beautiful reminder of how much I adore control."
I tried to speak out, but ended up like a whisper, "I'm not scared of you."
"Then why are you shaking?" He questioned while lightly grazing my arm, which I hadn't noticed was shaking. Sparks went through my arm at his touch and it made me disgusted at myself.
"I'm fearful for the boys and how easily they are manipulated by you."
He scoffed, "I don't manipulate them. They are happy to fight for their home and you should be too. All their life, people have abandoned them, but not me. You must understand, haven't you ever felt abandonment?"
I took a step back from his touch, "Abandonment requires expectations."