Lahar stares into the night sky. The light of the moon shines down as only four stars shine in the clear, dark sky. Lahar sits under a massive tree, larger than any tree she has seen. The branches stretch far, with each sprouting a multitude of leaves. The leaves resemble snowflakes falling on a winter morning in color, with none repeating in shape.

Lotus flowers are scattered about in the field, each giving off a faint glow. Lahar has no memory of walking here. She stands up and faces the tree. The bark is freezing to the touch, and the wood splinters and cracks. Lahar can't shake the feeling that she is being watched. She closes her eyes and starts to feel the Source flowing around her.

A light shines intensely, and a flurry of colors envelops the light. It takes the shape of the tree she is facing. Lahar steps back from the blinding light. Before she opens her eyes, she notices something. The hairs on the back of her neck rise as streams of light are pulled from the tree behind her. She doesn't turn when a chill runs down her spine. She remembers this feeling, this presence that stands behind her.

"I know you are there." Lahar pushes out her throat. "Are you just going to stay quiet and hide, or are you going to speak?"

"Look who's improving." The voice runs through her mind in a dark, familiar tone. She turns without opening her eyes. She sees a black hole absorbing the light of nearby stars in the silhouette of a person. She opens her eyes to find Void standing there with the same dingy cloak and the same white flames flickering in his eyes.

"You weren't there before. Why were you hiding?" Lahar says in an intimidating tone. Her hand slowly reaches for the water gun holstered at her side.

"So that I can make a grand entrance. A hero always makes a grand entrance," Void says, flaring his arms theatrically.

Lahar's shoulders fall a bit as she sighs in disappointment, not moving her hand away from the water gun or lowering her guard. She knows she can't take him lightly.

"You are the hero now? Last I heard, you were the fairy godmother in this tale," Lahar says. She blinks, and then he disappears. She turns around to find him lying on his back on a branch up in the tree. He has an apple in his hand, and his arms and legs hang off the sides.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"I feel the roles are interchangeable. The hero usually is brought by or needs the help of the fairy godmother. Essentially, she creates the hero and the tale. So in reality she is the hero. Don't you think?" Void says. He holds the apple up in the air as he stares at the red fruit.

"Not if they do it for ulterior motives. Sometimes they do it so they can progress their story. Maybe retrieving a specific something or using them to hurt others. I can think of someone who would fall into the category," Lahar says.

He continues to stare at the apple. "I assume you are talking about me," he says with spite. "What does this taste like?" he asks Lahar.

She is caught off guard by this question. She stares at the apple as she speaks. "Like an apple," she says with an eyebrow raised.

"Yet how does it taste?" he asks.

"Well, sweet, not overbearing, as well as juicy," she says.

Void places his fingers where his mouth would be. "I wonder what 'sweet' taste like." He turns his head so that he can stare at Lahar. "The ability to taste things of any variety, to feel what you touch, the cool of winter or the heat of summer, to feel the rain on your skin and the sand below your feet, to go where you want—this is what you all take for granted. You all don't know how massively important these things are unless they are taken from you."

Void goes silent for a moment. He stares back up at the leaves in the tree. "Do you think a bird gives a second thought that it can fly or about how amazing that is? If its wings were to be clipped, it would. That's what I am—a bird who has had its wings clipped. Better yet, I am a bird who wasn't given wings to begin with."

Void drops the apple. Lahar watches it fall toward the ground. Before it can hit the grass, Void catches it, as he is now sitting against the tree in front of Lahar. He looks up at her, with the flames in his eyes burning bright. "This is my quest; this is what I fight for. I fight for the right to leave and to live. I will achieve this no matter the cost."

"You say you would pay the cost no matter what it is. Even if it means gaining your own life, another must be sacrificed," Lahar says with her hand firmly on the handle of the gun and spite in her words.

Void looks up from the ground. "If it needs to be done. With that said, I don't hate him—Arena, that is," Void says, his eyes drifting to the four stars in the sky. "That is to say, I do hold some animosity toward him, but I wouldn't say hate. Either way, this would benefit us both. Deep down, he knows this."