Can I Go to Neverland?

By A. M. Cook

Growing up—What a waste of time! Peter Pan knows better than to chase empty promises. Why grow up when you can shine brighter than the sun? Every day is another chance to frolic in the expanse of eternal youth. In the fantasy adventure "Can I Go to Neverland?" by A. M. Cook, no one knows this burden more than Gabriel "Starcloud" Aethersong, a fey-turned-human with one last wish: to go home to Neverland. 

 

"The second star to the right always appeared to look down right at me every night. It called for me like an old friend in need of help. I wasted no time trying to find him. Yet here I am, wondering what to do."

 

But the dreamer's heart harbors secrets darker than the smog of the Unseelie Court. The Feywild, the heart of Neverland, is in shambles at the hands of the most Unseelie fey: Zane Waller. Afflicted by a curse, Zane spends his days searching for the Neverforce, the binding power of Neverland and imagination itself, to reset everything. Through swashbuckling brawls and cosmic clashes, Gabriel must accept reality, or he shall watch the land of childhood dreams eclipse to dust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. M. Cook
• Release date: Feb 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224960996

A. M. Cook

A. M. Cook, D.C., M.S., is a chiropractor and nutritionist that has always had a passion for writing since the fourth grade. Like most imaginative and aspiring new writers, this passion started with fan-fictions of his favorite movies. As time progressed, this changed into fictional stories of his own. Outside of the classroom, Dr. Cook could usually be seen at your local bookstore. He is always eager to learn something new or to explore a new story. He is no stranger to venturing into the unknown. For instance, he is also a certified Skywarn Spotter. His other hobbies include playing instruments like his kalimba, guitars, or the piano. His inspiration generally comes from finding new music, revisiting old soundtracks, communing with nature, or simply living life.

Book preview

Dedication

All glory to God.

Dedicated to my late Grandma Cook, who introduced me to imaginative stories and fought a decade-long battle against Alzheimer’s. You were so brave and kind, even when the sun had set.

You are dearly missed.

This one’s for you, Grandma.

Prologue

"C

ome on out, Starcloud! Your Court needs you!" A flurry of iron war hammers thrashed the mushroom houses of the Feywild to pieces. Groans and grunts of vicious Redcaps caterwauled throughout the wooded village. Unholy conflagrations scourged the land of the Seelie Court, the birthplace of fey righteousness, or so it was believed. Wreckage spanned as far as the Court could reach. 

Hail the hero of the stars! Crown the one who draws nigh to his fey! Where is he now? Hordes of Darklings swarmed the plains. The nestled light of the Seelie Court struggled to pierce the shroud of malice, but the Darklings absorbed it nonetheless. In their rush to advance the Unseelie army, the curse of aging under the pharisaic light raced faster than their strides to glory. At the end of their vanguard, one by one, they exploded into bursts of radiance.

Where are the humans you have helped? Where are your fleshen saviors now? A battalion of fey emerged from the hollows, darting their knives and arrows at the onslaught. An odd number of Unseelie fell to the blood-stained foliage. For the first time, red appeared in the Seelie Court. The experience of gruesome death scattered some of the fey from their hiding places. Those who held their peace remained in perfect solace. The ancient trees wailed in agony over the cries of the forest. At the end of this day, it will be known the victors have had enough.

One Unseelie fey towered over the others in his status and presence. He strolled onto the battlefield, his scimitar burning the foliage he scraped with each step. All the Seelie knew him by face; only a few dared to invoke his name. But fear has a way to extract what it wants. Every fey knows that names are empowering, for better or worse, and this fey proudly flaunts his own.

It’s Zane! cried a tiny fey, cowering behind shrubs. Her friends shushed her and covered her mouth. Zane turned toward the noise and drew back his scimitar. As he swung the flaming blade, a posse of shrieks erupted from the shrubs. Another sword crossed his own before he could devastate them. The little fairies hurried off to the nursery hidden deep within the woods.

That’s enough, Zane! Leave this Court, and never return! said the one who crossed blades with him. There he is! Gabriel Aethersong, the boy who refused to grow up. Have you come to help me finish the job? said Zane, snarling and cackling.

No, I’ve come to give the Seelie Court one last chance, said Gabriel. Zane heaved his scimitar at Gabriel. He deflected with his Sword of Blinding Light and slashed at the scimitar, knocking Zane off his feet. Zane hasted back up and chopped upward, freeing his weapon. He spun and sliced at Gabriel’s sword. With vile grit, he conjured mystical energy and tossed Gabriel a great distance. Drawing his breath, Gabriel hurled his sword beyond Zane’s person. He scoffed at the oversight, but Gabriel warped and switched places with the sword in a flash. Zane had taken his eyes off it for one second too long as Gabriel landed a left hook across his jaw. In dazzling trickery, Gabriel recalled his sword to his hand, plunging it through Zane’s gut and arresting all the air from his lungs with the attack. Zane collapsed to his knees and called upon his Unseelie magic to restore his ashen flesh, but not before Gabriel could imbue the wound with the sun’s ardent power. The wound sealed with blistering pain, torching the tissues as it repaired itself.

Zane rose from the settling dust and emitted a flaming signal from his scimitar. He commanded his Unseelie army to his side.

If you enjoy tricks so much, Starcloud, wait until you see my found family! He raised his arms, letting in the rush of Redcaps and dark fey, their impious battle cries flooding the azure plains. Gabriel imbued a spherical barrier around himself in his tottering feelings of injuring any more fey, even the Unseelie. It wasn’t enough, as the bombardment broke through the defense. They clawed at him and stomped on his face. They spat on him and ripped apart his cloak, thread by thread.

This is what you wanted, right, Starcloud? Quit while you still have life within your cruel veins, said Zane, watching the chaos. His mouth started twitching after seeing Gabriel fail to yield to the shredding torment. He snapped his fingers, and the torture ceased. Zane approached Gabriel and snagged him by the remainder of his collar. Do you get it now? You’ve unleashed what you could not control and burned us out of our home! Now, you’re still scraping to be the hero. I won’t grant you the pleasure.

Gabriel summoned his sword to his hand, his strength returning to him. He swept Zane off himself and lunged backward. Through weary contempt, Zane cast a bolt of red lightning at Gabriel. He blocked it with a screen of plasma crafted from his sword.

What other secrets did the stars tell you? growled Zane. Gabriel raised his sword high and called upon the light within the Seelie Court to grant him one last wish:

"Purest day, darkest night,

Beyond the stars, I cast my light:

Fulfill the dreams of those who fight—

Neverland, I sail tonight!"

A radiant beam surged from the skies, firing upon the polluted fields. The army of the Unseelie evaporated to dust while Zane shielded himself with all he had. Almost overwhelmed, he persevered through the gleaming flares of the sun, straining at the top of his vocal cords. When the light dimmed, Gabriel was gone, leaving behind a golden, glittering cloud in his wake.

I will find you, Gabe, and I will tear you apart if it’s the last thing I do! said Zane, alone in the expanse of the Seelie Court’s outer circle.

∗ ∗ ∗

In the Queen of Light’s throne room, a servant awaits correction, and a soldier awaits reprimand. The two delinquents are the same. The Queen stands from her throne, eager to hear the excuses for her finest soldier’s unforgivable mistake.

Starcloud, said the Queen, you understand the suffering you have brought upon this once-unified land? Because of you, an unholy division plagues these Courts of the Seelie and Unseelie. Families have been ripped apart, lovers torn to shreds, and brothers killed by brothers! What do you have to say for yourself?

My Queen, I came face-to-face with the sun, and I finally saw the light, said Starcloud, his lips quivering. In the side of the throne room hovered his beloved Tinker Bell, the grand artificer of the Feywild. She covered her face to hide her remorse. Starcloud, seeing her disappointment, hung his head. No commander of the Feywild, nor the King of Neverland, should live with this power, this Neverforce. Please, seal it away from me! The Queen conjured her Staff of Light, whose power can take away or restore the most distant memory.

By the power vested in me, given by these ancient hollows and the glorious rulers before me, I, the Queen of Light, take from you your memories of Neverland and the Feywild! Starcloud raised his head and gasped. Tinker Bell uncovered her face in awe.

No, my Queen! said Tinker Bell. Take me instead!

Silence, artificer! said the Queen, creating a Glimmerweave cage around Tinker Bell. Her escape efforts proved useless, for Glimmerweave is an archaic magic wrought by illusions and refractions. As punishment for bringing a great war to our peaceful lands, I banish you to the realm of Earth, where you shall live out your days and learn how to shine again. The Queen raised her Staff of Light, preparing to cast her spellbound curse. What last words do you have for your brothers and sisters of the Fey? Do not follow the darkness, and everything will be alright, said Starcloud. Tinker Bell watched in horror as the Queen cast her spell upon him. She dispelled his aura instantly, leaving behind a golden cloud. The cloud rapidly condensed into a singularity before dissipating into nothingness.

∗ ∗ ∗

At the barren edge of the Feywild, Zane Waller has been exploring every crevice, treehouse, and enchanted pond in search of Starcloud. About to abandon his search, he heard voices coming from the forest. 

He went this way! Let’s get him! said a Feystalker. They are specially bred to seek out the most distant scent and will find you in the darkest caves. Zane sprinted further out toward the edge. No fey has traversed the boundary between worlds before. Arrows zipped past his head, and green fireballs engulfed his vicinity. Should he touch the flames, he will perish in searing anguish. With nowhere left to run, Zane focused his power and blasted a hole through the Feywild’s transdimensional dome.

Zane Waller! Where do you think you’re going, Rambler? said a Feystalker. Zane remembered the chant that Starcloud uttered before he warped.

I’m off to Neverland! he said, mimicking Starcloud. He sprung through the gap he created, the dome sealing behind him. The dimension of the Feywild would soon be a distant memory, for now. The alluring, haphazard jungles of Neverland enveloped his surroundings. Oh, Starcloud, said Zane under his breath, you’ve sure picked quite the hiding spot. But I can’t wait to see you again.

Chapter 1

Lost Resolve

T

hey say drifting clouds in the cotton candy sky are the expressway to the imagination. Whoever they are, I would like to speak with those scoundrels. I have always wondered why growing old was inevitable. Time slips into a cadaverous cavern of no escape, leaving its wanderers behind in the aftermath. How much pain could I have avoided had I known what it would have been like to grow up? Tell me why I stared at the laundry scattered across the carpet. One would think it was as simple as tidying up and putting everything in its proper place. Only a fool would believe that. It never is, no, and it never will be. The follies of vacant promises and half-witted determination paved the highway of regret. Try and try again. You will make it someday, they say. When is that day? If I knew, I’d have said so. Time is the ultimate enemy. Guess what? It doesn’t care about your goals. Each stroke of the clock is another robbery on life’s timeline, that no-good crook. Is it robbery if time simply takes back what first belonged to it? Maybe I am the thief, yet I fail to use this opportunity.

I fought tooth and nail to build my dreams up to this point. Why did it all collapse at once? The cornerstone swept me off my feet like a kid kicking a sandcastle on the beach. All those years have vanished, and I can do nothing to regain them. Going forward, all I can do is redeem them. What if I could do something about it instead of relying on hope? Instead of dwelling on dreamless sleep, I will finally enact my imagination. That settles it. I will go back in time and change my destiny. It was never mine from the start. Life has taught me this.

I raise my head and stand up from my dilapidated, crude wooden desk, the chair creaking with melancholy. If you must know, it’s made of walnut. I have just the thing in my closet that will do the job delightfully. I pull back the poorly-painted sliding door, with creaks aplenty, and part the sea of clothes. I have misplaced my red checkered kite. Here it is! I reach for a yellow piece of fabric and my red cape. They have been tantalizing me for so long. The yellow fabric was my superhero hat from childhood. It’s doing its best not to spontaneously crumple. We had so many adventures, the likes of which anyone would never believe. How did I go from being full of life to fully depressed? I swear the colors were more vibrant beyond the dust from my decaying house. Today could be the start of a new adventure. Hesitantly, I don the hat and cape for the first time in decades. They still fit, but not as snug as I remember. It is almost suffocating. That won’t stop me because I know better than to quit. I adjust myself and look in the mirror through the rotten smudges and all. I’m taking back my life for good! I hobble down the stairs and psych myself up for the journey ahead.

No more doubts. I burst forth from my front door to the streets of London. It is the beautiful hour of one-thirty in the morning. Like a madman, I am running, frivolously frothing my cape as I glide against the wind. My knees will regret this later. I do not care. They will endure once more. When I wake up, or if I do, do not remind me I should have been sleeping because I will remind you that you