A Castle Made Of Dreams

WALLACE HAD ALWAYS believed in the existence of a higher being. It didn’t matter who it was but he was sure that there was someone out there more capable than the average human being. When Paige appeared in his little pub in the middle of the night, lifting off tables and talking about sentient hats, his belief was confirmed. There indeed was someone with more power than he.

Of course, the world operated on a hierarchy chart. If there was someone more capable than Wallace, then there would also be someone stronger than Paige. In the case of Neverland, those at the top of the food chain were spirits.

They were wispy little things that took on a humanoid figure, standing at the same height as a grown human being in their prime years. Their bodies weren’t built to be gender-specific and all of them had more or less the same facial features. The details on their faces were also blurred out, with subtle definition and no irises, pupils, or wrinkles.

Hovering in the forest before Wallace, he could count about ten of them, all in a different shade from the last. While some were colored azure like the skies above them, others burned red as the sunset, or green like the emerald moss. Their hair, some long and some short, all floated around their faces as if they were dipped underwater. From what Wallace could see, their hair didn’t move as each individual strand but rather together as a whole, never separating, perfectly even like a body of water.

“They are nature spirits, guardians of Neverland. They’re the ones at work to keep the balance and ensure prosperous life here in our little world. Our powers — us caretakers from the orphanage, I mean — come from them. We Neverlandians have a belief that they are the messengers of the gods above,” Paige explained in a hushed whisper.

Wallace watched with Paige from behind a bush, entranced as the spirits weaved and swerved around the flora and fauna, going about their day as if having the best fun of their lives. They weren’t doing much, but depending on what color each spirit was, certain things occurred whenever they danced. For example, whenever the pale gray spirit turned, a strong gust of wind would be sent over the land, rustling the leaves of the trees. Droplets of water moved along with the arms of the azure spirit, following its movement unconditionally.

The two continued to watch in silence all the way until the sun had long set, descending beyond the hills and turning the skies into a vivid violet before eventually indigo with glittering silver stars and a matching round moon.

In the center of the gathering of spirits, a pure black spirit awoke, lifting itself from the ground. Its body was filled with numerous white dots and only upon closer inspection had Wallace realized that the dots weren’t imprinted randomly. They were stars that formed various constellations known to humanity.

“The spirit of the night dances to bless Neverland with sweet dreams.” From beside Wallace, Paige softly smiled as she watched, her eyes never leaving the dancing spirit. “Sometimes, if I find myself sleepless, I’ll come over and join the dance.”

Wallace pondered to himself silently for a moment before he tapped Paige’s shoulder. When she turned, he extended his hand to her, waiting for her to take it.

“Would you like to dance, then?” He proposed, waiting with his hand outstretched.

An excited, childish grin stretched over Paige’s lips as she took hold of Wallace’s hand, nodding fervently as they stood up. Masked by the night, they waltzed under the stars. Their steps were light, barely even gliding over the forest floor. With every step, Paige’s green skirt swished, brushing against Wallace’s shin, light as a feather, feeling as though a pair of powdery butterfly wings had just touched his skin.

When Wallace let both of his hands drop to Paige’s small waist and lifted her off into the air, she copied, bringing him up into the skies with her. He gasped out in surprise, eyes wide with shock but Paige took no mind. She only giggled, eyes shining just as brightly as the stars above their heads, filled with the same mischief that she always wore on her features.

To Wallace, Paige had always been a child beyond her years. She had the maturity of a fully-grown adult but she also knew how to had fun like a child should. More often than not, she acted younger than him despite being free from the clutches of time. She could be hundreds of years old, decades older than he was, or maybe even mere years, but Paige could act younger.

She was younger than him at heart.

Suddenly unable to contain blossoming feelings in his chest, Wallace pulled Paige’s body close. He was immediately perfumed by a wave of flowers, her bright scarlet hair fluttering right by his cheeks.

“I don’t want to leave, Paige,” he confessed, murmuring right by her ear. “I want to stay here forever. With you.”

He felt a hand on his hand, lightly combing down the strands of his hair. It reminded him of the older generation of his family whom often did the same when he was younger and needed comforting.

“Then stay,” she replied. “Neverland will always be a home for dreamers.”