Peter Pan lay in the immaculately green field, his back gently caressed by the ground beneath his body, and the grass teasingly poked his exposed flesh of his arms. He gazed up ahead at the bluest sky, his lips forming an easy smile, and his green eyes shimmering with delight. He could faintly smell the scent of lavender, for up head on that large field, lay another field of lavender. The breeze picked up abruptly, and he shivered as the goosebumps prickled his skin.

"Peter." A voice called out faintly. "Peter, where are you?"

He lazily blinked out of his trance, before slowly pulling his back off the ground, and sitting upright in the field. Up ahead, he could see Syrinx, daughter of the River God, Ladon, slowly approaching him, and he smiled ridiculously. She was absolutely breathtaking. Syrinx had the most striking amber eyes, ones which possessed the ability to see right through your soul. Her raven hair swayed at her hips in luscious curls, and her dimpled smile was enough to bring world peace. She was so captivating to Peter, and his heart thumped against his ribcage frantically. The way she made him feel so flustered simply by her presence never seemed to get old.

Peter scratched at his neck subconsciously, and yelled out, "Over here, my love!"

Syrinx's gaze shifted in his direction, before she broke out into a dazzling grin, causing Peter's heart to skip a beat. She sauntered over to him, and clutched his hands the moment she reached him, after he stood up.

"Why are you away from the main city?" She asked, pouting lightly.

Pan gazed down at her affectionately, before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose adoringly. "You know I enjoy my solitude, Syrinx."

Syrinx sighed contentedly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, as he snaked his own around her waist and gently tugged her further into him.

"Not without my presence I hope." She teased quietly, causing Peter to laugh lightly and kiss the top of her head.

"Never without you."

Peter blinked himself awake, his mind still dazed by the vivid memory haunting his dreams, but as soon as he'd registered what he'd been dreaming of, his face scrunched up lividly, and he screwed his eyes shut tightly as he clenched his jaw. Why now, of all times, has Lyrinx invaded his dreams intrusively? He gulped harshly, before forcing himself up and out of bed. His bare feet padded over to his treehouse's window, and he set his gaze outside. The sun had just started to rise, and he could see a few Lost Boys loitering about, just commencing cooking breakfast for everyone else. It appeared as though it was Theodore's team's turn, and his eyes narrowed on Felix, who looked as though he were bickering irritably with Elijah, although Elijah looked amused if anything. Peter sniffed, his mind momentarily thinking about where Metanoia was, before turning away and heading for the shower, absolutely scorning the idea of thinking the sharp-tongued girl.

~•~

Metanoia stood beside Idris and Timmothy, a pleasant mood taking over her as her hands stayed wrung behind her back and watched Pan walk across the training clearing. He looked slightly perturbed, and Metanoia could only tell by his excessive pacing, otherwise, he looked as he always did. Brooding, scowling, and as though something had been shoved right up his -

"Today we'll be training with swords. Everybody, get into pairs."

Idris offered her a silent look which suggested to be her partner in this exercise, and Metanoia smiled in return. However, her content aura was rudely disrupted by Pan's irritating voice claiming with a drawl, "No, Metanoia - you'll be doing this training with David."

She almost whined. Why did it have to be him? Although Metanoia was beyond grateful that the Demon King hadn't paired her up with Denzel for the millionth time, she was still quite wary of David - and for good reason. He still had a threat hanging above her tauntingly, menacingly cackling at her anxiety brewing in her stomach knowing that he knew something he shouldn't. And he was using it against her. Without uttering a word, but making her distaste quite clear, she marched her way towards the pile of swords and snatched a random one. David did the same while the others went ahead and got into their own pairs. Why Pan had chosen to place her with someone and didn't bother doing the same with Lost Boys, Metanoia hadn't the slightest clue. However, she wagered it was probably to smugly get on her nerves, and it was working as much as she hated to admit it.

As soon as Pan gave them the green light, David's sword instantly landed on Metanoia's, who blocked his hit easily. She swung her sword to his side, but David was quick to jump out of the way and swing at her legs. Metanoia jumped to miss the sword, and spun her own sword up to swipe his head, but David leaned back to avoid the sharp blade.

"What's the matter, Noia? Don't wanna hurt me?" David teased nastily, and Metanoia clenched her jaw and swung her sword forward, but David blocked it swiftly.

"Far from it, really. If it were up to me, you'd be gutted right about now." Metanoia snarked, and dodged David's sword that was aiming for her hip.

David smirked. "Aw, don't be so glum for being paired up with me. After all, I have been keeping your little secret safe, haven't I?"

Metanoia clenched her jaw angrily, and managed to knick David's ankle. He only winced a little, but that aggravating smile was still plastered onto his annoying face, and he cooed, "Seems like I've touched a nerve."

"You better keep your mouth shut, David." Metanoia threatened quietly, just loud enough for him to hear, before David swung his sword to her front, and she blocked it with her own. Struggling at each other's strengths, David leaned in closer to her face and whispered with an arched brow, "Or what?"

Metanoia's nostrils flared, before she wedged her leg between his own, and kicked his right leg. He wobbled to the slight for just a moment, but it was sufficient time for Metanoia to bring her sword up and point it at his neck. David froze, and slowly raised his arms up in surrender after dropping his sword to the ground.

In that very second, Peter was passing by the duo and he looked unfazed by the matter. "It looks like Metanoia is taking down Denzel and his friends one after the other, isn't she?"

David's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, too afraid to meet Pan's eye.

"It's a blow to a boy's ego to be defeated by a girl." Pan mused with a condescending smirk as he gazed over at David's fuming face. "But quite satisfying for a girl to render a boy useless and helpless."

He shifted his gaze over to Metanoia, whose breath hitched at her throat against her will when he nodded at her in acknowledgment, a faint twitch to his lips flickering over, although his eyes disdainfully regarded her. "Well done."

Both Metanoia and David were stunned by Pan's remark. Neither one of them had anticipated him to compliment her on anything, even if it was a very stiff compliment, as though it physically hurt him to say it. But Metanoia latched onto it, and she grinned toothily, smugly shifting her gaze onto David, who was already glaring at her furiously.

"Don't go around suddenly thinking you're invincible though, Metanoia." Her name sounded awfully bitter coming out of his mouth, almost causing her to wince as she glanced back at him. He had one eyebrow carefully raised as he observed her, void of any emotion, before adding, "Nate can still beat you to a pulp."

"He wouldn't." She immediately bit back, jutting out her chin confidently.

Peter scoffed, rolled his eyes and stepped closer to her, his body frame towering over her much smaller one, and he wore a condescending smirk. "Darling, if I commanded Nate to fight you to the death, he would do so willingly."

He breathed down at her, and she could feel his warm breath fanning her face, for he was standing this close, and Metanoia couldn't bring herself to take a step back and away from him. She was too captivated by his forest green eyes, which fascinatingly exposed little to not emotion, and Metanoia knew this wasn't normal. He was masking what he was feeling, she was certain of it.

Peter made to tuck a stray strand of Metanoia's dark hair behind her ear, and she involuntarily flinched, not because she was afraid, oh no, Metanoia did not necessarily fear Peter Pan, but it was because she was foreign to his touch. It was too cold against her delicate skin, and she went rigid - trying not to shiver. Pan was satisfied with her reaction, his eyes suddenly glinting with arrogance when she flinched, knowing how much of an effect he had on her, and whispered, "I am a lot more powerful than you let yourself believe, my dear Metanoia. The only reason you are still breathing right now, is because I allow it."

David suddenly felt too awkward to be standing so close to the two of them, and he glanced around him, envious of those who were still too occupied dueling, though he noticed Nate had repeatedly glanced their way, and Theodore had stopped completely, both he and Elijah watching them attentively.

"Let this be a constant reminder for you, and who knows? Maybe it will humble you." Peter laughed humorlessly, and finally stepped away from her, but Metanoia was utterly fuming by now.

She opened her mouth, ready to shoot a witty remark that would surely lead her to trouble with Pan, before David caught her forearm and subtly shook his head. Metanoia clenched her jaw, and yanked her arm out of his group.

"Don't touch me ever again." She hissed through her teeth, glowering at David's handsome yet now infuriating face, and David instantly scowled.

He cocked his head to the side when Pan was no longer focused on them, and sneered, "Perhaps I should no longer look out for you then."

Metanoia rolled her eyes and picked up her sword. "Please, when have you ever even looked out for me?"

David's face hardened. "You're going to regret saying that."

"Sure, I will." She sarcastically remarked.

~•~

Peter Pan lay later that night in his bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling of his treehouse, his mind drifting into a train of thought accelerating at an alarming speed. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his jaw, eyes unblinking, and nose flaring every time his mind drifted over to her. The Grand Seer's confession to the truth of Metanoia entirely changes everything for Peter and his malicious intentions towards murdering the girl. Instead, she was to be a massively large help to pursuing his vengeance, but how could he be thrilled at the idea when he could barely even look at her without recoiling in disgust. He was undoubtedly curious, of course he was, but at the end of the day, Metanoia was still in the infuriating, irritating, insufferable, loud-mouthed, lazy and immature girl that Peter knew since she set foot onto his island.

He was painfully conflicted; he knew he couldn't stand the girl laying a few treehouses away, probably asleep at this hour, but he couldn't shake away his thoughts on how he could use her to his advantage. Did he have to be nice to her? Because he'd tried to be since her initiation, and he just couldn't do it without wanting to gag. How is he to lure her into trusting him and willing to do his bidding when he couldn't even think about her without angrily clenching his fists?

Peter huffed exasperatedly, before a loud knock sounded across his treehouse, and he instantly whipped his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they glared at the door. A second later, he was standing up, and taking big strides to the door, before yanking it open, and a large scowl rested on his face immediately.

"What do you want at this ungodly hour? I swear, David, if it's something as pathetic as you are, I won't hesitate to feed you to the piranhas." Peter fumed as he watched David's face contort with fear, and fiddling with his hands anxiously.

"I need to tell you something important, Pan. Trust me, you'll want to hear this." David's voice was wobbling, but his point was made when his feet remained rooted in front of Pan instead of swiftly scurrying away.

Raising a single brow at him curiously, Pan's scowl softened ever so slightly and replaced with a thin line playing across his lips. Sighing, he opened the door wider, signaling for David to step inside. The Lost Boy hesitantly moved forward, his eyes cautiously darting to every corner of Pan's room, for he'd never been inside before - no one has but Theodore as his second in command to discuss important matters with Pan without prying eyes and ears. Pan shut the door behind him, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, what is so important that couldn't wait to be told tomorrow?" Pan's intimidating voice bounced across the walls, and David gulped, staring at his King nervously.

"I found something that I know belongs to you, Pan." David replied, miraculously calm, and straightened his back.

Pan was unfazed and unmoving. "And what might that be?"

"Your Locket of Hidden Truths." David replied swiftly, and Pan's posture changed.

He dropped his arms to his sides, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the boy, his mouth twitching. "Where did you find it?"

"Metanoia stole it." David responded, his nose scrunched up in disgust, and Pan clenched his fists, feeling an inexplicable surge of rage swallow him whole.

"It's in her treehouse." David added, but before he could say anything else, Peter's hand flew up to silence him.

Pan hissed. "Bring me Theodore and come back with him. Now."

David rapidly nodded, before hurrying out of Pan's treehouse and disappearing from view. Pan breathed heavily, and clutched the bridge of his nose, his eyes fluttering shut. He knew it. He had a strong feeling that Metanoia was the culprit behind stealing his locket, and yet, he did not bother to prod further into the matter. Why hadn't he done anything about it? In all honestly, Peter was occupied with more pressing matters, but he never forgot about his stolen possession, and thieves will always pay for their actions. He growled to himself, his eyes wildly wide, dancing with menace, and he refrained from flipping his desk over and making a mess of the place.

Metanoia had to suffer.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Peter demanded for them to come in. Theodore looked worried, while David seemed to be enjoying himself now - smug smile evident on his face and eyes glinting.

"Come in, Theodore. David has proved himself useful. It appears that your little girlfriend is a thief."

~•~

"Athena?" Metanoia uttered the Goddess's name as she sauntered into Zeus's throne room. "What's going on? My father is nowhere to be found."

Athena was standing beside Zeus's throne, who was sat with a wary look in his eyes. Athena snapped her gaze onto the girl, and grimaced.

"Metanoia, I'm afraid you will not be able to see your father anymore." Athena spoke in the most sympathetic tone she could muster, but she was still cautious enough to stay alert to Metanoia's reaction.

Metanoia only frowned uncomprehendingly, her eyes laced with suspicion as her vision shifted from Athena to Zeus, and back to Athena. Her concerned voice had suddenly hardened, detecting the guilty expressions on their faces, and she demanded, "What have you done to him?"

Athena cooed gently, "Metanoia, you must understand that it is our duty to keep the safety of Mount Olympus in our best interest. Your father was endangering our land."

"What have you done to my father?" Metanoia snarled. "I will not ask you again."

Zeus gulped, before confessing firmly, "We banished him."

Metanoia's breath hitched in her throat, feeling her heart literally shatter in her chest, and at that very same moment, heard the thundering collapse of a monument in the distance, followed by the frantic and horrified screams of citizens. Zeus and Athena's eyes widened as their bodies stiffened in fear, fear of Metanoia.

"I always knew you hated him." Metanoia whispered brokenly, but her glare only proved that she was far from weak. She was livid. "I just never thought you'd stoop so low to shun him."

"Metanoia, my dear -" Athena started, but was sharply cut off by Metanoia's cries.

"No! How could you?! How could you do this to me, to him?!" Metanoia yelled in anguish, and heard yet another collapse of a building, and yet more screams.

Zeus glanced out the windows of his throne room anxiously. "Metanoia, you need to calm down. You are involuntarily causing destruction -"

"To hell with calming down, Zeus!" Metanoia snarled. "Where have you banished my father?!"

"We can't having you looking for him, Metanoia!" Zeus spluttered, Metanoia took a threatening step towards them.

"I will make sure Mount Olympus suffers until you tell me where my father is, Zeus. Mark my -"

She gasped, her eyes widening when she felt something pierce her flesh, right at the back of her left shoulder, and she sunk to her knees, her vision going foggy. She twisted her head to the side, catching a glimpse of a finely crafted arrow stuck to her shoulder, and she frowned. Metanoia shifted her gaze to the entrance of the throne room as she felt herself losing control of her body, falling to the floor with a soft thud. Her vision was so hazy, she could barely see the silhouette of a woman stepping inside.

"What did you do?!" Athena hissed.

"I did what needed to be done." Artemis's voice rung through Metanoia's ears, and her heart clenched at yet another betrayal from another friend. "She would've killed us all if she stayed conscious."

Suddenly, Metanoia felt herself being restrained by a cool metal chain, and she whimpered helplessly, her mind clouded and so was her vision, and now even her hearing was starting to fade out as she blinked slowly.

She awoke with a harsh gasp that ripped out of her throat painfully, jolting upright on her bed, and her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Unbeknownst to her at the moment, the locket tucked under her pillow was vibrantly glowing, hot against the mattress, and Metanoia gulped thickly. It was too real. Too real to just be a dream formed from her imagination and subconscious. It had to hold some truth to it, for it felt like Metanoia had lived through this before. It felt like a memory. But how can it? Was this her stolen memory? After all, it was in fact the Locket of Hidden Truths that she kept with her, so it only made sense for this 'dream' to be a memory.

She took a deep breath as she tried to steady her frantic heart, her mind urging for her to do something insanely idiotic, but it was what she needed to do if she wanted to understand these absurd dreams she'd been having ever since she got her hands on the locket.

She needed to speak to Peter Pan.

Metanoia forced herself out bed before she could change her mind, snatched the locket and hid it in her cloak's pocket, and hurried out of her treehouse, her wobbly arms and legs struggling to climb up Peter's rickety ladder. As soon as she was face to face with his door, Metanoia felt her