❖ THE SPOOKY FOREST ❖ (C/Solo)

The Spooky Forest. It wasn't all that bad like many of the locals on Mt. Hakobe said it'd be. Maybe it was the uprooted trees and eerie howls of the wind that frightened these people, but not Fane. It did not frighten him, but he never felt at ease, either.

When Fane took a step, the dead leaves underneath the soles of his feet took one with him, a notable crunching noise ripping apart the silence. The tips of his ears and nose were blushed in red as a winter wind nipped his face. But this was only to be expected since he was just coming down from Mt. Hakobe and had been wandering these woods for a few hours since. The only object that shielded him from the wintery elements was a thin and dirty shawl he was wearing when coming down the mountain. It was enough to sustain him, but his body never could seem to reach a comfortable temperature.

The blonde-haired wanderer meandered through the Spooky Forest with deep thought burdening his mind. He looked troubled, glaring down at his feet as he walked with his hand stuffed in his pockets. Ever since he came down from the mountain, memories from years passing seemed to have slowly become... elucidated. Not in full, of course. But the fragments he had been holding onto seem to be somewhat clearer, while still only being fragments.

His name was Fane Howler and he heiled from The Pergrande Kingdom. Not only that, he came from a line of men and women whose whole family lived to serve His Lord and his descedents. There was nothing else significant about him, after all. But because of his servitude, he acquired unordinary skills to best serve his Lord. Sewing, cooking, brewing, navigation, massaging, swordsmanship, and other abilities pertaining to his status. Fane had also always had an affinity for butchering things because of his Lord's taste for fresh meat—it was only natural that he learned so.

Despite the litany of skills he had acquired, he could not, for heaven's sake, recall his Lord's name! Every time he tried, a sudden pain overwhelmed him and surrounded his skull. He couldn't even remember what he looked like. But, alas, this only encouraged him to find out just what became of this man which he, apparently, held so dear to him.

There were other mysteries, too. Just why and how did he end up in Fiore and even more specifically, Mt. Hakobe, if he recalled correctly? He imagined that he would have to cross Bosco and Iceburg just to see the borders of his homeland, and while he fully intended to do so, felt bewildered all the more. But this all seemed trivial in comparison to his biggest question—was he dead?

He was dead, wasn't he? He was sure of that. In his final moments, defending his Lord's land, all he recalled was the rain piercing his face, and then a overwhelming calm consuming him. That was death, wasn't it? Was it not? But it was, wasn't it?

Fane heard himself bicker between the two realities for what seemed like forever, only confusing himself even more. Everything felt real, and he showed all signs of being alive. There wasn't a single mark on his body that could've suggested otherwise. And yet. . .

Before he could finish the thought, something small and weak tugged on his shawl, and Fane stopped dead in his tracks with a layer of cold sweat caking his complexion. His blue eyes fell down to a much smaller figure—a young boy with snot covering his upper lit and tears brimming in his black eyes.

"Can you help me, sir. . .? Please, I'm lost. . ." the boy said with a trembling, indignant voice.

"Pardon?" Fane replied, confused.

A young boy was the last thing that Fane was expecting to see out in these woods. Not only that, but a boy dressed as he was! He was wearing a backpack bigger than he was, biege cargo shorts, and a bicolored fleece hoodie. He would've looked like a travelling merchant if not for four feet and some inches making clear his youth.

The boy sniffled away the snot smearing across his upper lip and looked up to Fane with a distinctly ugly expression that children often wore when sobbing like this. "I—I—I—I lost. . . my—my Papa. . . I—I mean. . . I didn't lose him! I just w-went to go get—to get some. . . some water for—for the r-road. . . and. . . and. . .!!" the boy whimpered, beginning to cry again. How cute!

Fane smiled widely and knelt down, petting the boy's head by the center of his scalp. Upon seeing the young boy, he recalled how much he liked children and his ability to get along of them. "Calm down now, kiddo. How are we going to find your Papa with all that crying?" he grinned at the boy as he would pet him sympathetically.

Strangely enough, the boy suddenly stopped sobbing! He looked up to Fane with glistening eyes radiating relief and anticipation. "Y-you mean, you'll help me find my Papa?"

Fane nodded. "I will certainly try my best. I'll have you know that I can have a knack for these things."

The boy smiled sheepishly in response, his cheeks blush and red from all of his sobbings. "I'm Jack!" Jack announced in between snotty sniffles.

"Hello, Jack. I suppose you should call me Mr. Howler." Fane pointed to himself before removing his hand from Jack's head, "So then, let us get right to it, shall we? Where were you last with your Papa?"

Jack thought about it for a moment, letting go of Fane's cloak to fiddle his thumbs. "The—the, uhm. . . Haunted Village." Jack sputtered over his words.

"The Haunted Village? You mean the just east of here?" Fane looked surprised for a moment.

"Uhm. . . I think so."


"Well, count yourself lucky then, Jack, for I happen to be heading for the Haunted Village myself. It isn't far from here, see?" Fane pointed to the night sky, the atmosphere speckled with stars, but Jack couldn't understand what he meant,
"It's just a little ways off from here. If you stick with me, I'm certain that we'll arrive in due time." he smiled again. The blonde-haired wanderer seemed so confident in his travels despite never traveling here before and couldn't help but make the young Jack feel the same.

"Okay!" Jack nodded excitedly.

Fane began to walk in the direction he had pointed. "Brilliant. Let's be on our merry way, then!"

So the two did exactly just that and went off on their merry way. Fane's bright and infectious smile continue to stretch ear to ear and Jack couldn't help but feel equally jolly and reassured.

There was an awkward silence between Jack and Fane while they walked. Fane's smile eventually faded as he stepped over roots and in between bushes to get to the Haunted Village, appearing as if following an unmarked path. Jack watched him nervously, unsure of what to say. He wondered if anyone was supposed to say anything at all in these sorts of situations. Or, that's how he appeared. He seemed to be struggling between speaking and not, opening his mouth to say something, pausing, and then returning to fiddling with his thumbs again. This silence continued upward of twenty minutes during their travels. It took around that much time for Jack to finally muster up the courage to speak.

"S-So, Mr. Howler sir. . ." Jack started excitedly, fumbling over his words.

Fane peered over his shoulder in-between steps, his friendly, nerve-easing smile returning to his expression when he did, "Yes? What is it, Jack?"

Jack's expression suddenly lit up when he saw the distinct smile of Fane's, suddenly springing from behind him to walk just adjacent to him. "Why are you out here in the Spooky Woods all by yourself?" Jack inquired expectantly.  

"Myself?" Fane scoffed kindly, pinching his chin in contemplation, "Ah, well, yes—I suppose you would be wondering a fellow like myself would be doing out here, wouldn't you? Alright, I'll tell you." he smiled brightly, looking down and over at Jack more keenly, "I'm trying to leave Fiore and was told that this was the best route. Convenient, isn't it?"

Jack nodded excessively in agreeance, "Oh, for sure!! My Papa and I come and go from Fiore all the time and we always, always go from the Haunted Village!"

Fane laughed again, "My, my, is it? I'll certainly hold you to it, then." he continued. Their chitchat seemed to be endless after that point. Endless, well, until something had abruptly caught the young boy's eyes. In the distance, a deep, rough voice could be heard.

"Jacksy-boooooy! Over hereeee! Jacksy-boooooy!" a big-bellied man with a beard so thick that it covered his neck was waving back to Jack. Fane stopped and stared.

"Papaaa!!" Jack flailed back excitedly before turning and pointing at the man, "Mr. Howler! Mr. Howler! Look! That's my Papa! We made it! We're at the Haunted Village!"

Fane smiled, surprised that he hadn't realized that they arrived. Jack sprinted for his Papa and suddenly became illuminated in the bright, warm lantern light of the village. Fane's gaze followed, and lo and behold, there it was—the Haunted Village.