Escaping the clutches of the Fomori, Tinker Bell wandered through the veil of night, her wings heavy with the weight of betrayal. The world was silent–no rustling leaves, no distant calls of the night creatures. Only the slow, rhythmic crash of waves below.
And yet, someone was calling her.
Not in words, not in sound.
In Echoes.
The echoes gnawed at her mind. They slithered through the air like phantom threads, pulling at the edges of her thoughts. Go back. Stop him before it's too late. "Stop who?" She hissed into the empty night. No answers came, only the rustling of unseen forces stirring the leaves. Yet, the weight of their meaning pressed against her chest like a hand gripping her heart.
There was only being she had ever feared enough to run from. One who had stood beneath the full moon and reached for her with a silver-tongued promise and shadowed intent. George.
Of course, it was him. Who else could bend fate in such a way that even the winds whispered his name?
The whispers curled through her, weaving into very bones. They weren't spoken, yet she understood them. They weren't commands, yet they pulled at her with an urgency she couldn't ignore.
"Stop the ritual"
"What ritual?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The whispers carried a chilling prophecy—a ritual to create a cambion, a being born of infused blood from a Fomori and a human. This creature, they said, would inherit the raw, untamed power of demons, a force so potent it could unravel the very fabric of humanity. The cambion would walk among mortals, its presence a harbinger of chaos, its purpose to lead humanity into ruin.
She shut her eyes, shaking her head. No. I won't go back to him. George.
His name alone brought a bitterness that clung to her like dust. She had once been drawn to his charm, his way with words, his way of making her feel special. But she had learned the truth too late. He was never kind. He was never hers. He had always belonged to something darker.
And now, he was about to finish what he started.
The voices–were they moon gods? The spirits of the forgotten fairies? She didn't even know. But she could feel the magic shifting, bending, breaking– something in the world was changing, and she was running out of time.
Tinker Bell turned her gaze to the sky. The moon was full, bathing the ocean in liquid silver. Luminara was quiet beneath the waves, hidden for now.
"Go Back."
Her heart pounded.
Could she really stop him?
Did she want to?
For a moment, she hesitated. But then–a sudden chill passed through her, and she knew. The ritual had begun.
It's now or never.
With a burst of light, she shot forward, wings cutting through the night like a falling star. The moon light raced beside her, urging her on. She didn't know what she was about to face, but one thing was certain. This time, she would not be fooled.
When Tinker Bell arrived, she was met with a sight that defied all logic–Peter, who should have been an infant, had already grown into a striking young boy. If she didn't act now, he would soon become an adult, completing the transformation George had intended.
Summoning every ounce of her power, she willed the moon to hide behind thick storm clouds, shrouding the ritual in darkness. In that fleeting moment of confusion, she seized Peter and soared into the skies. Below, George let out a guttural roar as the unfinished ritual backfired– his form crumbled, dissolving into the dust of darkness.
Above, Tinker Bell clutched Peter tightly, her heart pounding. He was no ordinary child. He was a Cambion—half-human, half-demon–a being not meant to exist in the mortal world unguarded. If he left here, he would either be hunted or worse... claimed by the darkness he was born from.
Then, from the celestial realm, sensing the dangers that loomed over Peter, the moon goddess Selene whispered to Tinker Bell, urging her to take the boy to Never Land. Unlike the mortal world, where time marched forward without mercy, Never Land's essence was bound to the Prime Moon. Here, neither age nor decay could take hold–everything remained in an eternal state, untouched by the passage of time. This is the only place Peter could be safe. Guided by Selene's light, Tinker Bell carried him to Never Land.
Unaware that it was George's soul residing within Peter's body, the sentinels believed they had successfully stopped the orchestrated birth of a Cambion. But the truth was far more cunning—George had outmaneuvered them all. Rather than the infiltrating ritual as expected, he had found a stillborn child and, in an act of calculated deception, poured his Fomori soul into the lifeless human form. With this, the Cambion was born—not as a product of dark magic's interference, but through George's sheer will to manipulate fate itself. Now, Peter walked as a mortal, appearing as one of them, hiding the sinister force within. The sentinels remained oblivious to the deception, and the dark powers believed they had failed, unaware that the true mastermind had played them all. Yet, the question lingered—how long could George maintain the illusion before the truth unraveled, and the world faced the consequences of his defiance?
George had unknowingly paid the ultimate price. The ritual had stripped him of everything—his past, his identity. Now, he was just a teenage boy with no recollection of the Fomori he once was, his name replaced, his history erased. The dark powers that once defined him lay dormant, buried deep within, waiting for the moment they would awaken. And yet, even in this new life, in this unfamiliar existence, something remained—a lingering feeling, a quiet ache that he could not explain.
A name, soft yet distant, echoed in the depths of his heart. Tinker Bell.
Drifting through the air unconscious, George was unaware of the blessing that had unknowingly fallen upon him. Now, he was simply a boy, free of his burdens, untethered from his history—a blank slate upon which fate would write anew