Open your eyes.

Will squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He had been sleeping so peacefully, before this infernal voice had interrupted him. "Go 'way," he mumbled, through his sleepy lips.

Open your eyes, William Scarlet. You might not get a second chance.

Groaning, Will's brown eyes fluttered open against his will, and he sat bolt upright. "What is—what is this?" he asked, scrambling off the ground. His voice echoed strangely, throughout the darkness around him. "Where am I? What's going on?" His side didn't hurt, which he couldn't even begin to fathom at this point. He was more concerned with where he was.

The room had been a ballroom at some point. The white marble, flecked with black imperfections, covered the floor, the walls, and the columns around Will. Yet now, some of the columns had collapsed, some smashed into a thousand pieces, others only broken apart into a few. The ceiling was gone, yet no moon or stars shone through. Strange black thorns protruded from every crevasse and opening possible.

As if in a daydream, Will walked through the destroyed ballroom, his boots not even clicking against the marble. The silence seemed to press into his ears, like someone had pushed cotton into them. "Where am I?" he whispered again.

See this world. See what becomes of those who incur The Editor's cruelty. See where one of your friends will meet the fate of Final Death ...

Will's heart nearly stopped. He froze mid-step. "What? Who? When?"

I cannot tell you. But you may yet be able to prevent it. Accept the help of the one I will send you to. Find the truth about Final Death. But be warned. If they suffer their fate, you will not be able to stop them from leaving you forever. You must find out the truth before your friend dies.

"Where will my friend die?" Will whispered, his voice shaking with worry. "Tell me!"

Look down at your feet, William Scarlet, and see. See where your friend will die ...

Will looked down, as he had been asked to. Slowly, he knelt down, his fingers wrapping around what lay at his feet. He held it up, looking straight through the glass slipper in his hands.

. . . . . . . . . .

Will woke up again. His heart was racing, his breathing came in ragged gasps, and he sat up. His side twinged in protest, but he ignored it. The first thing he did when he had recovered his breathing was look around. It was bright, bright and sunny. With relief, he realized he wasn't in that terrible place anymore, and he breathed a sigh, wanting to lay back in his bed and go back to sleep.

Except he wasn't in his bed. Once again, he sat bolt upright, scrambling to his feet. He was outside again, on a grassy hill. The sky was blue above him, the sun shining high in the sky. As he became more awake and aware of himself, he realized his injury wasn't hurting as much as it should have. Slowly, he put his finger to his side, feeling the lump of a scar there. It took him another few seconds to remember that his injury was less than a day old. There was no way a deep sword cut could've healed and scarred over in that short a span of time.

Shuddering a bit in confusion, Will decided to focus on figuring out where he was. "Hullo?" he called, just in case another strange, ethereal voice wanted to start talking to him. There was no answer. "Well," he muttered to himself. "At least I'm not going completely mad."

Still not really convinced about his words, though, he looked around, absently rubbing the scar as he did so. Finally, his gaze settled on a large tower in the distance, about two or three miles away from him. It was mostly downhill, and his woodsman's eyes estimated it would only take him about twenty minutes or so to reach it. Perhaps answers would be waiting for him there.

It turned out that Will had underestimated the time. It was a little over an hour later when he finally reached the base of the tower. It was much, much bigger than he'd anticipated as he stood at the bottom, tilting his head back to look up. And, strangest of all, there didn't seem to be any sort of a door. He scratched his head, absent-mindedly, trying to figure out what was going on. "Alright, so ... what now?" he mumbled, squinting up into the sunlight. "It would be nice to have Merlin here to tell me what to do, like he always does."

But since Merlin wasn't there, Will tilted his head back further and chewed his lip. He decided that Merlin's tactic would be a vastly different way than his own, and let go a long breath. Then he yelled as loud as he could, "Hullo!"

His voice echoed up the tower, bouncing back down to him after a couple of seconds. He figured that if this whole thing was a trap for him, then they were already expecting him. Yelling couldn't do any harm.

After only a few seconds, during which Will began to doubt there was actually anybody in the tower, he finally got an answer. "Hello! You're definitely not Fritz!"

Will looked surprised. The voice was feminine and sounded distinctly amused. "No, I'm not!" he called back. "I'm William Scarlet! I'm lost! I'm not really sure where we are!"

"Can't you yell any louder?" the girl shouted back at him. "Actually, wait, never mind, give me a minute, alright? And look out below!" Will backed away, not exactly sure what he should expect from the unknown girl high above him. The last thing he really did expect was a golden rope of some sort to come spiraling down from the window high, high above. "Climb up!"

A little bit reluctantly, Will grabbed the rope. He frowned at the peculiar texture of the rope. It felt a little too fine and soft to be actual rough rope, but he wasn't sure what else it could be. Gripping it tightly in both hands, he wrapped it around his waist and started to climb up the tower. As he climbed with the golden rope, the girl who had originally yelled to him pulled along with him. She had to be remarkably strong, because he reached the window high above the ground a short time later.

Once he got to the top and climbed through the window, he untied the golden rope from around his waist. As it slipped to the floor, he found himself trying to find where the end of the rope was. Slowly, he followed it around and around the floor, circled over the chairs beside the small circular table, and even wrapped around the beams in the ceiling, until he traced it finally to a taller young woman standing by another window. She was twirling a strand of the golden rope around her finger—and that was when Will realized it wasn't a rope at all. It was ... hair. Tons and tons of hair, all over the tower, leading back to the pale-skinned, brightly green eyed girl.

She had her free hand on her hip, and grinned slyly at him. "Well, now. I've never seen a prince with hair quite so red as yours. Where'd you come from, scarlet prince?"

"I'm ... I'm not a prince. Far from it," Will confessed. "I'm an outlaw. Well, former outlaw."

"You're far from a prince, you're an outlaw, but you're not an outlaw," the girl said, with obvious amusement. "Have you a name, prince of outlaws?"

"I—of course. My name is William Scarlet, but everyone calls me Will," he said, giving a very Alan-like bow. "And you, miss?"

"Well, either you have absolutely no idea about any of the Stories, or you're just an absolute idiot," the girl answered with a grin. "Since you're too cute to be the latter, I'm going to hopefully go for the former. I'm Rapunzel."

"Lettuce?" Will asked with a frown.

Rapunzel gave a disgruntled sigh. "For heaven's sakes, you have no idea how many times I hear that. No, I'm not a piece of lettuce. My fake mother named me that because my mom was craving the rapunzel leaf and she was going to die if she didn't give me up for the stupid plant. Okay?"

Will was now just beyond confused and stared at Rapunzel for a few seconds before settling on saying, "Um ... okay?"

She must have been satisfied with his response, because she didn't pursue the subject anymore. Or maybe she just figured it was pointless and she would always be referred to as a piece of lettuce. "Of course, that's not my true name. Who the heck knows what my real name was."

Will studied her, his eyebrows shooting up. This girl was getting stranger and stranger. "Your ... true name?" he asked curiously.

"Of course. Rapunzel is only my Story name. I don't remember what name I went by before I got written in," she said, her tone a little bit rambling and her fingers tapping against her arm repeatedly.

"Written in?" Will repeated. "Does that make you a Guardian, then?"

"I was one, yes," Rapunzel said. "But you know a whole bunch about me, and I know absolutely nothing about you. You said your name is William, right? William Scarlet? Like, the William Scarlet?"

"I prefer Will," he said awkwardly. He was distracted by her long golden braid. Despite her height—she was just as tall as he was—her hair reached all the way down to the floor, and ... it just kept going. And going. And going. Will traced the hair with his eyes, finally finding it at the window, where it had been thrown out to be used ... as the rope he'd climbed out of. The hair was far, far longer than anything he had ever seen before in his whole life. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, his gaze turned back to her slowly. "Is this all your hair?"

The girl eyed the long, heavy braid with a rueful look. "Darn. You mussed it all up," she said. "Yes, it's all my hair. Now I have to redo the whole thing." She shot Will a wink before she tapped the long locks. Immediately, the braid slipped undone, like invisible hands were twisting it out into endless waves of hair. If possible, Will's eyes popped even further, seeing it moving like the tide rolling out to sea.

His reaction only seemed to amuse Rapunzel further. She gave him a cheeky wink, which drew a certain heat to his cheeks. "You think that's something? Wait until you see this." She tapped her hair with her index finger again. It immediately began raveling up, binding itself into a braid, neater and less mussed than the previous one. It somehow also managed to shorten her hair, just barely down to her heels once it was fully done. As Will's mouth opened and closed, trying to formulate a response, she put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows. "So? What do you think?"

"That's ... that's fantastic," Will said, looking around the tower. It was a circular room, with some stairs leading to a floor below them. The stone walls were a bright white stone, or, at least, what he could see of them. Almost every single inch of them, as high as the blonde girl could reach, were covered in big bookshelves. And on every single one of those shelves were books. Hundreds of them. Even with his illiteracy, Will knew somehow that all those books had to be Story books. "These are all yours?"

"Yeah. Every written-in Guardian has some," Rapunzel said. "I just so happened to need more than everyone else, considering how I spend years of my life in solitude."

"How many years, Rapunzel?" Will asked, looking surprised.

The girl dug her bare toes into the floor, brushing her heavy braid back. "Oh ... sixteen at a time. Every Story cycle, I live for sixteen years by myself, visited only by the nutty woman who made my mother sell me for some pieces of lettuce. About the only good thing in my life is Fitz, but even he gets pretty boring after he does the same thing over and over again every single time. What I need in my life is some excitement, William Scarlet."

Will leaned against her bedpost, watching as she sat on the windowsill and stared across the forest. "Every time I finally get a chance for freedom ... every time Fitz sweeps me off my feet ... it starts all over again. I end up right back in this tower. Sixteen years for one day, my wedding day, then it's right back in here. It's a misery, William."

Sympathy sparked up in Will, but he also found himself fighting down guilt too. He had written Rachel into The Story, to save her life. Yet, had he been wrong to write her in? Had he unwittingly put her through a netherworld of punishment, just like this unfortunate girl in front of him? "I'm sorry," Will said quietly. "That sounds terrible. You're not the first written-in Guardian I've met, though."

"So maybe you're not as silly as I first thought you were." Rapunzel turned back to him, her dark green eyes flicking up and down with renewed interest. "So how much do you actually know about The Story, William?"

"Enough," Will said softly. "But there's one thing I don't really know about. Final Death."

Rapunzel let go a long breath, and Will saw her pale significantly when he mentioned the words "Final Death". "What is there to know? It's unknown and scary. The idea of something like that happening ... it's not pleasant. Besides, nobody in their right mind actually goes looking for Final Death answers."

"Who said I'm in my right mind?" Will answered. Rapunzel's lips twitched into a little smile. Emboldened slightly by her reaction, he went on, "I need to know, Rapunzel. It could mean a matter of life or death to one of my friends. I can't let that happen!"

"You act like I even know who any of your friends are," Rapunzel said.

"My greatest friend is Alan-a-Dale. If you've read my ... Story ... then you probably know who he is. But you also probably know my other friend," Will said. He paused for dramatic effect, taught by the best of performers. "Rachel Andric."

Rapunzel pursed her lips. "Who?"

That was definitely not the reaction he'd been hoping for. His shoulders deflated a little bit, and Rapunzel's lips twitched again a tiny bit. "You don't know who Rachel Andric is?"

Rapunzel spread her arms. "Hello? Tower? You're going to need to be a little more specific."

"She rewrote The Story. Or, well, she did most of it, and I did the rest," Will said. "You can't honestly tell me that you didn't notice, can you?"

Rapunzel sighed and rolled her green eyes. "Oh, her. I haven't really heard too much about her, but she's the reason my prince hasn't shown up. I guess I should thank her, he was getting boring. Like, really boring."

Will was beginning to get a little exasperated with her. "That's all you got out of that? She was risking her life for everyone in The Story. To give you all a better life. And all you can say is that it was a good way for you to get away from your prince?"

Rapunzel crossed her arms. "I know what she was trying to do. And I do appreciate it. I was just teasing you." When Will opened his mouth to speak again, she held up a hand to interrupt him. "And that's obviously a very touchy subject, so I won't tease you about it again. However, if you're going to be poking your nose into the terrifying unknown that is Final Death, you should know ... people around The Story get very touchy about it. Not to mention, not everyone is thrilled with what Rachel Andric did to The Story."

"What do you mean by that?" Will asked softly.

"The not-thrilled part? There are some people who would have preferred that The Story stay the same way," Rapunzel answered. "But you should know something else. If you go looking for answers about Final Death, it could backfire in a big way."

Will sensed an unspoken story in that, and he sat down at the foot of her bed, motioning for her to speak. She slowly sat down on a stool across from him, folding her hands on her lap. "I already told you that I used to be a Guardian. I was written in, a while ago. I've lost track of the time it's been."

"Why were you written in?"

Rapunzel took in a shaky breath, folding her hands on her lap. "I delved too deeply into Final Death. I can't remember the exact details, but it ... it involved me trying to figure out what happened to my—to members of my family. And it triggered the Final Deaths of everyone in this Story."

"What? How?" Will's eyes widened. He couldn't imagine being responsible for that many people's deaths, Final Death or otherwise.

"It was my punishment. I threw off this Story through my research, and the Guardians punished me by writing everyone in it out, and replacing the Rapunzel before me with ... well ... me."

"That's—that's awful, Rapunzel," Will said. He could clearly see the emotion etched deeply into her face; whatever had happened to her, however it had happened ... she had horrible guilt built deep inside of her. He ran his fingers over his arms thoughtfully. "So getting written out ... that means Final Death?"

"How should I know? I never got that deep in," Rapunzel admitted. "And whatever knowledge I did happen to gather, they made sure I forgot. I don't remember what I learned."

Will chewed his lip. It couldn't be a coincidence that he'd woken up here, with this odd girl who shared his fascination with Final Death. Whoever had sent him that eerie dream wanted him to look deeper. And that meant allying himself with Rapunzel. "Do you want to relearn what you forgot?"

Rapunzel flinched. "That's a dangerous question you're asking there, William. Bad things happened the first time I tried to delve into this stuff."

"But the Guardians are all dead now," Will protested, trying not to flinch whenever she called him "William". Only his mother had ever called him that. "So they can't punish you. Plus, whoever warned me that my friend would die told me that you could help me."

"So you're just going to believe this magical voice without really knowing who it is or why they sent you the message they sent you?" Rapunzel asked, arching her slim eyebrows as she studied him.

Will chewed his lip, trying to best determine how to convince her to help him. "Well ... yes. I am. There was just a feeling that I could ... I felt like I could trust them."

Rapunzel tilted her head to the side before groaning softly. "Well, it's better than nothing, I guess. But now that you've got me thinking, I do remember a couple of things. I kept up my research even after I'd been written in. I stumbled on a deep, dark secret the Guardians didn't want anyone knowing. They are only tasked with protecting The Story. All Final Deaths are monitored by one person. The Editor."

"The Editor? They're the ones who pick and choose?"

"Well, technically, yes. But I'm pretty sure it went on auto-pilot after a while. That's why any Guardian who did a minor infraction in The Story got written in."

"Except for Rachel," Will pointed out.

"Except for her. Which leads me to believe The Editor wants a challenge," Rapunzel said. "There's no reason why—"

"Unless the blood of The Four of The Story is enough to overpower The Editor," Will said, his excitement getting the better of him. He would never have interrupted a lady otherwise. "That's why The Editor couldn't undo what Rachel did!"

"The Four of The Story? What's that?" Rapunzel looked genuinely clueless, blinking slowly at Will. It had never occurred to him that people wouldn't know these things he considered to be common knowledge. It gave him a good idea of what people thought when he didn't know certain details about The Story.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," Will said. "It's four people whose blood has the power to rewrite The Story. I'm one of them."

"Oh, very fancy," Rapunzel said. "I had no idea." But her brow was furrowed, like that was familiar to her. Something that was right there, but just not clicking. "So ... if what you're saying is true, then that could very well be a cause for The Editor to come after you. To want to get rid of you."

"That does make sense," he said. "I ... I sort of wish it didn't, though."

"Well, too late to chicken out now," Rapunzel said. "I'm ready to go on an adventure if you are. Unless, of course, you are chickening out?"

Will pursed his lips, staring out the window of the tower. "I want to do this. I have to do this," he said after a long moment. "I can't back out now. My friends ... they need me."

Rapunzel eyed him with something that resembled a mixture of admiration and gentle needling. "My, my. You are braver than I gave you credit for originally. And it's a very good thing you came to me, isn't it? Because I don't believe you are capable of opening and closing Story doors." She grinned and backed up.

Will's mind was racing. Now he actually had a method of getting around The Story, and someone whose mind could hold secrets about Final Death nobody else knew. It was too much of a coincidence. He couldn't figure out who it was that had sent him to Rapunzel, or even if they were friend or foe, but they obviously wanted the truth about Final Death to come out. And if it meant saving one of his friends, than Will would have done it no matter who asked him to. Even Carson.

Lost in thoughts, it took Will a moment to realize that someone was calling outside of the tower. He glanced at Rapunzel as the elderly voice called up, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your golden hair!"

"Who is that?" Will asked, raising his eyebrows.

Rapunzel gave an anguished groan, grabbing her hair and pulling her hands down through it aggressively. "It's my mother! She has the absolute worst timing!" she complained. "Well, not my mother mother, but my adoptive mother ..."

"And ...?"

"And if she finds you here, you won't be here in less than ten seconds. Because she'll throw you out of the tower, without my hair. You have to hide, now!" The voice echoed up to them again, repeating the words with irritation now.

Will went down on his hands and knees beside her bed, but he shook his head as he looked up at her. "There are too many books under here!" he whispered urgently.

Rapunzel groaned again. "That curtain, there." She pointed to a heavy maroon curtain beside the window. "Hide behind that, and do not move!" Will scrambled behind the curtain, hiding behind and hardly daring to breathe. Rapunzel knotted her hair around a hook at the top of the window and threw it down. Her brown freckles stood out on her pale face. "There's someone with her. She never brings anyone," she murmured to him.

Will didn't answer. He tried to swallow, but it was like there was sand in his mouth. His side felt empty without his sword, and he struggled to control his panicked breathing. If he was found, the only thing that was between him and the window was the feisty blonde currently pulling her mother up with her hair. Judging from the fear in Rapunzel's eyes, Will didn't exactly fancy his odds.

After a few minutes of almost heart-stopping fear, an old woman with wavy grey hair and a younger man climbed into the tower, one after the other. Will struggled to see the figures through the curtain, but his view was hazy at best. Rapunzel really liked to block out sunlight, Will supposed. He pressed his back further against the wall, hoping that the fact that he couldn't see them meant that they couldn't see him.

"Hello, Mother Gothel," Rapunzel said, almost making him jump out of his skin. He hadn't expected her to speak first. "And who might this handsome devil be, that you've brought to me? You've never brought visitors before."

The woman gave a screechy laugh, the sound vibrating like sword on sword. "Him? This is Guy of Gisborne, of course. Quite the eye-catching boy, isn't he?"

Will's breath caught in his throat. Guy? What was he doing here? Last thing Will remembered, he'd been attacking him, then ... then what? Why was Guy here now? Why was he standing right there, beside Will without even knowing the outlaw was there? His head was spinning with questions, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stand still.

Gothel spoke again. "Search the tower, Gisborne. I know there's someone hiding here. I felt a Story door open, my sweet child. So who are you hiding?"

"Hiding?" Rapunzel sounded indignant. Even though he'd only known her for such a short time, Will knew she was crossing her arms and making a funny face. "Who in the world would I be hiding in here? Fitz? He's long gone, and you know it."

"It could very well be your jilted bride, darling Gisborne," Gothel crooned. Will tried not to cringe at her tone of voice or at the insinuations of what she was saying. They knew he was here. And, if Guy's attack on him earlier was anything to judge by, he wouldn't hesitate to hand him over to Gothel, who would then toss Will out of the tower.

He really wanted to avoid being tossed out of the tower.

As terror coursed through Will, he was vaguely aware of Rapunzel chattering nonstop in the background to her mother. Either she was nervous or she just couldn't help herself. Either way, Will knew it would be over soon. A quick survey of the room would reveal that there was only two places for Will to hide: under the bed, and behind the heavy curtains.

He heard Guy's heavy boots muffled by the carpet under his feet. Heard him stop, and the squeak of his leather clothes as he bent down to look under the bed. Rapunzel's voice had faded into nothing more than a background noise. All he could detect with his ears was the sound of blood rushing to his head, and the leather boots pounding out his death knells as they drew closer to where Will was.

The curtain moved back. Will was face to face with his old enemy. Dark brown eyes stared back at Will from a pale, drawn face. The two just stood there, frozen, their gazes locked in the most intense staring contest Will had ever experienced. He couldn't tear his eyes away, and the outlaw knew one thing, and one thing only:

Guy was going to give him away.