He dreamed of her – of the mermaid with stardust in her hair and a dragon at her feet. Isra had haunted Pan ever since he left this place on the moonlit night, and he wanted desperately to see her again. Oh, what stories he would tell her… of a golden pool, a perfectly sculpted shell, old friends rediscovered. It was all so fanciful, and if anyone could appreciate the irony in how his life had changed since their last meeting, Isra would. She had been the first to encourage him to hold onto the dreams… and slowly, the dreams were becoming memories. Slowly, his past was returning to him, and the future had never seemed brighter.
There is a skip to his step, excitement dancing in his belly as his green eyes take in the temple in the distance. Blissfully ignorant of the crimes that had taken place in this world, he begins to poke around, whispering for the mermaid and her dragon.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, the boy stepped into the temple, his hooves clattering on the cold stone. Torches light his path with a muted glow, and he gulps as he follows them down the quiet corridors, abandoned by all on the night when Moira called to them. In other circumstances, he might have investigated the nooks and crannies of this place, committing it to memory and finding the best hiding places. But tonight, worry creases the boy’s brow as he pressed on, following the candlelight as a beacon.
As he grows toward the place where Moira called to them, Pan begins to hear low whispers, though he cannot make out the words. His steps are hurried now as he pushes through the final curtains into a grand hall, abandoned except for the brilliantly hued Pegasus and the familiar red stallion who had comforted him only days before in the forest. Gulping, the boy steps forward, hesitating for a moment as he takes in their worried expressions. He clears his throat, asking in a broken and innocent tone,
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