Since the Queen's dark curse ravaged their land, Robin has never felt completely safe or at home anymore. This is where they live, the place they inhabit, but these desolate paths they tread through the forest aren't home. He'd once dwelled so peacefully amongst the trees and now most of them are barren, scorched, dying. There are ogres roaming the land and resources are scarce, leading to terrible violence at times between those left behind. Robin's grateful for his men, they've all kept each other safe and everyone's vowed to keep his son safe above all else.
But everything is dying. Including the people.
For the past two weeks, they've been roaming between villages, gathering what food they can and seeking out some sort of shelter, something they hope will be more permanent. But a fight breaks out when they try to gather up some chickens, and Robin and his men flee quickly into the woods once again. A few days ago, a few of them men became ill, desperately ill. They'd been forced to take shelter in the woods; not the safest or most comfortable place these days, but necessary. One of the men had lapsed into a coma by the third day, and then to his horror, Robin awoke to discover Roland was sick. His son, his precious boy, burning up with fever, seized with coughing fits that burned his lungs.
It's been three days now, with Robin up around the clock tending to his son, trying to keep him hydrated, doing everything he can to bring the fever down, but it's not enough. His son lapses into a coma as well, breathing but not waking up. He's desperate. He can't lose his son, he can't. This place has magic and though Robin has never wielded it, he knows there are other realms beyond them. Maybe someone, somewhere, can help them. He'll try anything. He has nothing left to lose. By nightfall, he's holding Roland in his arms. In the palm of his hand, he's cradling a small magic bean one of his men found. Magic beans can open portals and travel to other lands. Perhaps they can transmit messages as well. He's not sure what this one will do when he uses it, but he speaks to it, begging it to save his son, whether that means taking them somewhere else or bringing a cure here. And then, he throws it a short distance, waiting for something to happen. The bean levitates in the air and seems to disappear; he can't see it in the darkness of night, but it floats up skyward and travels to another realm entirely, far into the depths of space. By now, it's not a bean anymore, it's a signal, a beacon transmitting a message with coordinates. Robin's desperate message plays in a loop over and over again.
Back in the Enchanted Forest, Robin thinks he's simply failed his son and he's just waiting for the inevitable, for death to take one more person from him. He presses his forehead to Roland's, stroking his dark curls back from his forehead, and then he cries. He just cries and hopes for a miracle.
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But everything is dying. Including the people.
For the past two weeks, they've been roaming between villages, gathering what food they can and seeking out some sort of shelter, something they hope will be more permanent. But a fight breaks out when they try to gather up some chickens, and Robin and his men flee quickly into the woods once again. A few days ago, a few of them men became ill, desperately ill. They'd been forced to take shelter in the woods; not the safest or most comfortable place these days, but necessary. One of the men had lapsed into a coma by the third day, and then to his horror, Robin awoke to discover Roland was sick. His son, his precious boy, burning up with fever, seized with coughing fits that burned his lungs.
It's been three days now, with Robin up around the clock tending to his son, trying to keep him hydrated, doing everything he can to bring the fever down, but it's not enough. His son lapses into a coma as well, breathing but not waking up. He's desperate. He can't lose his son, he can't. This place has magic and though Robin has never wielded it, he knows there are other realms beyond them. Maybe someone, somewhere, can help them. He'll try anything. He has nothing left to lose. By nightfall, he's holding Roland in his arms. In the palm of his hand, he's cradling a small magic bean one of his men found. Magic beans can open portals and travel to other lands. Perhaps they can transmit messages as well. He's not sure what this one will do when he uses it, but he speaks to it, begging it to save his son, whether that means taking them somewhere else or bringing a cure here. And then, he throws it a short distance, waiting for something to happen. The bean levitates in the air and seems to disappear; he can't see it in the darkness of night, but it floats up skyward and travels to another realm entirely, far into the depths of space. By now, it's not a bean anymore, it's a signal, a beacon transmitting a message with coordinates. Robin's desperate message plays in a loop over and over again.
Back in the Enchanted Forest, Robin thinks he's simply failed his son and he's just waiting for the inevitable, for death to take one more person from him. He presses his forehead to Roland's, stroking his dark curls back from his forehead, and then he cries. He just cries and hopes for a miracle.