As an adolescent transitioning to adulthood, there were several things you were taught when you became of age. When you were old enough for the soldiers at the gate to no longer impede your steps outside the city walls, your life became your own responsibility.

Tread carefully in the lands at the cardinals of your compass, for Terminians are not welcome everywhere they go. That was the first and most commonly broken rule, but fools will be fools no matter the precautions. The second was to not travel at night. While day travel with guays pecking at your head and chus nipping your heels was bad enough, bubbles came out at night and would lay a nasty curse upon you. Mortals should always fear the dark fey if they wish to live to see another day. The third -and the most treacherous to break- was never to venture into the Woods of Mystery. If you do, you will surely die.

The final rule was the one Lance decided to break today, along with his two trusted friends Orwen and Thane he had managed to coerce. Every young adult had that tantalizing desire to discover the secrets of the unknown, and he easily tapped into both of their innate curiosities. Perhaps they could be the first ones to venture into the Woods and return alive, not only as courageous adventurers but as selfless heroes?

Lance kept a brave face as he traversed into the Southern Swamp. His blood ran cold with fear, but they couldn’t know that. Courage was mostly convincing yourself your bravery was true, at least that thought sounded nice in his head.

“Mrs. Wisteria would rather have you by her side than lose her son for the hope of a cure,” his friend Thane cautiously reminded him. He had done nothing but remind him all morning, but never made a greater effort to stop him. “This is the last chance to turn back and forget all about this idea. We’re practically to the swamp.”

Lance huffed and maintained his face ever forward. He couldn’t see it, but his two companions looked at each other with a forlorn expression.

“It’s not a hope Thane; we will find the toadstool that can cure my mother’s sickness. The merchant said that it had almost more than wiped the disease out had they not been forbidden from selling it any longer,” Lance answered with certainty. Whom he was trying to convince he could not say for certain.

“There must be a reason nobody sells it anymore. I hear the Deku don’t permit people to forage in the woods anymore. They’re not greedy people. Something has to have happened,” pondered Orwen as well. Orwen was a man of few words, so when he chose to speak it was with good reason. Lance could not reply, but merely tucked his head toward his chest and spurred his horse along. They would arrive at the forest’s edge soon.

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It was under the cover of night they slipped past the nearby Deku in the swamp. The sentries appeared bored and inattentive, meaning this place was rarely disturbed. Once they slipped past the hut of the swamp witches’ however, there wasn’t a single indication of life to be seen. For a place so dangerous, the boys had anticipated a nigh impenetrable defense. This was almost disappointing.

Lance scoffed. They would take better care of protecting this place if any significant number of people went missing here. “I think the merchants are just a bunch of cowards that heard too many bedtime stories growing up. Or perhaps life saving medicine just wasn’t making a profit anymore,” Lance whispered. Then silence resumed aside from three sets of hoof beats.

Deeper and deeper into the Woods they went, cutting symbols into the trees so that they may find their way back out. He believed them to be able to outsmart the ancient woods, unconvinced they could trap someone in their maze if they were prepared. Their destination was a specific spot where this bright violet toadstool grew which according to hearsay was located where the trees grew close together and the leaves smothered the little light they would receive from the waning moon.

As they traveled deeper, Lance couldn’t help but feel his paranoia grow. The trees jostled with life, both of small and large varieties. He was certain the small bodies were that of the mischievous monkeys that were the only known creatures to understand the maze of the woods. The larger movements, perhaps snappers stalking their prey. Hopefully, they weren’t said prey.

After an unknown passage of time -had it been minutes or hours Lance couldn’t say- he finally saw something more than trees and overgrowth. Under a stream of moonlight, in the middle of a fairy ring, was a fallen tree that created a gap in the crown. All over this rotting log he could see the vibrant violet even at this distance. He could barely contain his emotions as moisture seeped from his eyes and a gasp escaped his throat.

“Orwen! Thane! We’ve found it, don’t you see?” he cried out in joy, turning to his two friends.

But they were nowhere to be seen.

“Guys, this isn’t funny. I need you to come out right now. Please, please just come out and tell me this is a joke,” he croaked as his chest clenched. He would find the toadstools again, he most certainly would. His friends needed him now.

Lance spurred his horse on down the same path for several minutes, wondering just how on Termina he could have lost them without noticing all this time. Was he truly so focused he would not notice the sounds of their horses fading away? Then he closed his eyes and focused his hearing.

There it was! In the distance ahead he could hear a pair of horses trotting, and set into a gallop. Why did their sound not get any closer? Were they riding away from something? Lance just assumed the horses got spooked and fled, and his friends had been struggling to rein them in this whole time.

Suddenly jarred out of his full-on gallop the horse dug in its heels and Lance was sent careening forward from his saddle. The flight through the air felt like eternity as he waited to crash head first and only hope he wouldn’t collide his head with a rock. Instead, he landed on something soft that left him in a stupor.

Stolen story; please report.

Once he shook the daze from his eyes and his pupils refocused to the surrounding darkness he saw he was laying on the body of a dead horse. Instantly he reeled back and scrambled backwards, failing to stabilize himself to get to his feet. It was his worst nightmare. The bodies of not only the horses but of his friends were lying on the forest floor. He, in turn, was covered in the blood of the beast he landed on. As all those sensations registered in his brain, his body began voiding the contents of his stomach in horror.

He had no time to grieve unfortunately, as he heard the sound of the hoof beats from before, and they were galloping straight towards him. Lance reached up and used the reins on his horse to balance himself upright. After struggling for seconds too long, he returned to the saddle and sped off in the opposite direction of the sound. He made a silent promise to return for their bodies one day.

The path of the forest never seemed to change but Lance continued on at a full gallop. He continued peeking behind him to see what was chasing him but it was always just outside his range of vision. Tears continued streaming down his face making it hard to see which left him to rely on the horse to keep them from colliding with a tree. He passed by the fairy circle once, twice, then three times as he kept changing paths to escape his pursuers.

Lance was fully convinced now; the maze had consumed him and was going to die. “I’m sorry Mother. I know I should have listened to you. Listening to you is what got me this far in life to begin with. I try to do the first thing I decide on my own, and I’m going to die. I’m sorry Father. I know I already disappointed you for not wanting to become a politician, but now you have no heir and will soon be a widower. And I’m sorry Aryn, we were each other’s chance at happiness and now neither of us will know it,” he whispered under his breath.

He wasn’t giving up this fight. At least with the spirits who might be listening to him hearing his apologies, he felt at the very least a little more at peace with his circumstances. There was something in his gut this entire time that told him he would probably die today, but he pushed it down in favor of hope.

The horse began to tire; Lance could hear it in his breathing and the way he was slowing down. Eventually the horse tripped over a gnarled root and sent them both tumbling down to the ground. As he fell, he was sure the horse had broken its leg. Upon landing on the ground, his head collided with a rock instantly knocking him unconscious.

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When Lance awoke, he found himself unable to properly breathe. He was inhaling something that was constricting his throat and coating the insides of his lungs. Aimlessly his arms reached out to find his horse, desperate to know if he had lured another companion to uncertain death. His fingers only grasped at the earth.

Upon opening his eyes, he saw a creature was crouching on top of his chest. Lance could not identify it by sight, nor would his arms move to push it off his chest. A raging inferno burned behind the creature, and the combination of that as well as the pressure on his lungs made breathing more arduous with each exhale.

This creature was neither animal nor human, or any other race he knew of in the land. It looked like an indistinct mass of black that fluctuated from rigid sharp shapes that could tear his flesh asunder to a blurry outline he couldn’t fully separate from the darkness of the night.

This creature’s eyes, if that’s what they were, were illuminated golden orbs with no dark blemishes on them to be seen. He could feel its face getting closer to his own, but his body was incapable of responding to push it off. Lance then felt what he could only determine to be the creature’s breath being blown into his mouth. Normally this would be repulsive, but it in fact caused his body to relax and grow more weary. His eyes closed once more.

With his eyes closed there was no perception of time that passed, only the yearning for slumber that plagued his aching body. In this state of limbo, his mind couldn't help but wander to his mother. It wasn't regret that made him fixate on her, but just knowing he was going to break the heart of the only person in this world to truly care about him.

It wasn’t until he felt the pressure on his chest disappear entirely that he remembered he had things in the world to live for, and that dying was not an option he would take willingly.

Lance’s eyes opened again to the wildfire, but no longer was there a peculiar beast crouching on his body. Instead, mere feet from his body stood a lone figure of fantastical beauty. This person was slender and a bit shorter than himself, but the white mane cascading down his back in a messy braid made his long brown hair feel inexplicably plain. Despite being moments from perishing, Lance couldn’t pull himself away from being dazzled by this creature of the woods.

The figure then approached him and kneeled next to Lance getting uncomfortably close to his face. They looked to be studying him, but there was another emotion there that was difficult to describe. Upon closer inspection their eyes were an icy blue that showed only an expression of solemn anger. Was that directed at him for his group trespassing in the forest? Lance could not take in a solid breath enough to form the words to even ask.

“A human it looks like, but he has already fallen to those that lurk in the darkness. Pity,” the stranger spoke to no one specific.

Had this being not sent that creature to attack him? There would be no reason to lie; his friends were dead, and he would be soon too. Was there a chance perhaps he might save his life instead? His eyes couldn’t help but betray that hope.

The being caught his look with a stare that pierced right into his very being. “Sorry kid, you’ve already breathed in enough smoke to kill a weaker human. Plus, you look like something made an attempt to extract your soul but failed. You’re gonna be dead in mere moments. Answer me this, though, and I may end it even sooner for you. Why did you, or whoever attacked you, set my woods on fire? Are you an agent of chaos, or simply a fool?” the stranger inquired, not at all expecting a verbal answer. They were only looking into his eyes.

Lance was barely focusing at this point as his eyes began to droop, death approaching. The stranger must have been satisfied as they then stepped away from his body. As Lance relaxed and let go of this world, his last vision of this life was the toadstools he sought after incinerating in the flames. He heard the somber notes of a flute being played, but it was not a song he could recognize.

That was the last thing he recalled before he died.

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“Young Master! Young Master Lance! It’s time to wake up for breakfast,” an older woman in a maid’s outfit was shaking Lance awake in his bed. He was used to her waking him up in this manner, but today he bolted up with a deep gasp and sweat beading down his forehead.

She stepped back with a gasp of her own as Lance took several deep gulps of air, clenching the sheets before his body levelled out. Eventually, his eyes focused. He saw he was in his own bed in his own house, and not surrounded by a forest fire.

Wait, why would he be in a burning forest? Just what was this dream he'd been having?

“What is it, dear? Did you have a nightmare?” the gentle old woman inquired of Lance. He looked up at her with a hallowed expression.

“Abi, I...I-I think I died last night.”