In the heart of the Neverland Jungle, where vines hung like snakes from the treetops and the calls of various animals mingled in the dark of night with the chirping of crickets, stood the gnarled sister tree of Hangman's Tree. One might have thought it was easy to find such a colossus among the smaller trees; after all, its crown towered over the tallest giants of the jungle. However, since only Peter and a few others in Neverland were able to fly, everyone else was left to search on foot ... and having often witnessed even the native people or the pirate pack get hopelessly lost in the endless paths of thickets and shades of green, the leader of the Lost Boys was convinced that a fairy spell protected the tree.

When he searched for the way to the tree, he followed his nose, his gut feeling, and the ringing of Tinkerbell alone. Otherwise, he would have been lost in the ever-changing paths between bushes full of inviting honey-golden berries or cotton candy-rosy blossoms. The little folk was cunning and not easy to figure out. Not without reason, Peter in particular had a special relationship with them. Their heart was always full of chaos and you never knew if they wanted to do you good or bad or if their view also agreed with those of the 'lucky' one. This bond had made him and Tink friends and made the little people tolerate the boy near the tree.

Sometimes he would come to watch the Eternal Dance. Among the countless roots of the fairy tree, which dug into the earth like tentacles or rose from it in some places, was one of the ballrooms where the fairies celebrated their endless feasts. Even though he had seen this spectacle hundreds of times before, it was always breathtaking how the timeless beings turned and moved, far from the sticky threads of reality, as if they only had to reach out and reshape them. Wings fluttered between golden shimmer, fragile and more fragile than the thinnest glass.

But woe to him who underestimated the Fae and their countless offspring, which stretched like leaves on tree branches under the most diverse names into all realms of legends and stories. While he always forgot everything again, surrendered to the ease of forgetting, and lived into the day, these beings were the epitome of eternity. He usually came only for fun and games, to race the fairies in the air, or to catch a glimpse of the fairy rulers. Today, however ... he had not come for that.

With a soft groan, Peter pushed his way through the old tree's roots. The passage was so narrow that even a boy like him already had trouble fitting through. Tink flew ahead, seeming to show him the way between the tangle, and the old branches made a little room for the guest in their unhurried way. Some of the leaves on his clothing came loose from the rough bark and tumbled in a roundelay into the depths before he finally let himself sink the last bit onto a more prominent spur of a root.

The faint sounds that tuned his senses and made the flecks of gold in his piercing green eyes glow like fairy dust made the boy stop and listen for a moment. He always felt at home here, welcome and at the same time like a pebble among shimmering diamonds.

Peter drew his arm horizontally in front of his belly and placed the other behind his back, as he had sometimes seen the male Fae do in the lighted halls of London before bowing effusively.Blond hair fell before his eyes like a curtain. Waves through which the wind had brushed, salt of the Neverseas had clung, and fairy dust had made it shine.

"I request an audience with Your Highness, Queen Titania, the true and only Queen of Summer and Sun, Spring and Dawn," Peter said, his velvety voice sounding unusually rough. He was evidenced by worries that displaced the otherwise easy youth.

"Only once in a lifetime, no matter how long or short it may be, is it permitted to stand before the rulers of eternity," a voice sounded in the hall. Though it seemed tiny, Peter heard the voice echoing far away. A tinkling rose, soft and gentle, a bright sound as of dozens of tiny bells that no human could ever have forged like that. A fragrance rose to his nose, intoxicating and beguiling. Of distant lands that could not be imagined even in the wildest dreams, clear blue seas, the plumage of exotic birds, sweet honey, and cedar. It smelled of north wind and snow, spring breeze, and a first ray of sunshine.

Peter didn't have to look up to know that Queen Titania had heard his plea. Warmth and golden light kissed his cheeks, a bright light falling through the strands of his hair as he lifted his gaze and recognized the fairest of the fairies. Fabrics of a far-worldly nature nestled around the queen, who shone like a miniature sun. Golden shimmer trickled from her four golden wings to the ground, and a crown of crystal and gold jewels adorned her head. Long silky hair fell around her silhouette like a veil and flowed down to her toes, floating in the air.

"I know why you have come, Son of the Wind," spoke the Eternal, and her voice sounded bright and loud in his mind, "You want to recover what is lost." 

Power was inherent in the words, which dug down to his soul regardless of mortal shells and made it resound. Peter would never have admitted it ... but if he feared anything, it would be the Fae.

"Is there a way?" it shot out of Peter like a cannonball from the Long Tom of the Jolly Roger.

"There is only one way... but it comes at a high price Peter. You must be sure. You must not doubt."  Queen Titania's mine showed no emotion. It was fantastic, like the beautiful mask of a porcelain doll. Superhumanly beautiful, with golden lips and luminous eyes, but as cool as a snowflake. "When the sky was still young, and the worlds knew no end, the first lights strayed into the web of the firmament. Henceforth it was there, the invisible web, created by gods whose names have long been forgotten, to hold the sun, moon, and stars. The web of celestial rivers spans this world and many others beside it. Sometimes the meshes are so tiny that the smallest stars shimmer like dust. Others of the meshes, however, are large enough that now and then, one of the starlights can fall through and down as a shooting star." Titania's voice took a significant pause. "You know the stories about falling stars, Wind Rider?"

The Queen's gaze rested on him, and Peter's smooth brow furrowed thoughtfully. Tinkerbell beside him hummed and tugged at one of his strands, but he refused to be distracted.

"You mean I should ... wait for a shooting star to fall and make a wish?"

Then the queen smiled, but it did not reach her eyes."The little stars are not powerful enough to grant such a great wish as the one that weighs down your heart, Pan," she answered him. Her voice flowed without bumping as if they were talking about the steps of a dance that every child should know. "It will not do to go out and look for a fallen star. Many a man found a star and made a wish, but afterward, he held in his hands no more than a cold lump of iron - the wish unfulfilled," the queen told, and the soft ringing of her wings accompanied her as she circled the guest with a golden glow. "Only he who is free in the heart from burdens such as worry and doubt is heard by the stars. Child in heart and soul, full of faith in wishes that can come true. Only this faith gives the magic of the stars the power to become a reality." 

The fabrics billowed around the fairy's legs and seemed to flow as vividly as a river of silk escaping solid form. She was utterly different from Tink, who wrapped herself in robes of leaves and flowers.

"If you wish for a chance to give form to your wish, you must catch a star while it is still falling and before it touches the ground for the first time - for they lose some of their power there. It must be a star, big and shining, full of the old magic." The bright eyes literally bored into his. "But beware, Pan, of cutting one of the twin stars from the sky. For they are the pillars of your world and carry Neverland on their shoulders."

"And how can I catch such a star? Can you tell me when-"

Laughter interrupted his question. Laughter from several throats, bright and melodious, yet at the same time mocking his youthful ignorance. Even with several decades, perhaps centuries, it was no more than a tiny grain of sand compared to the eternal hourglass of a fae.

"Oh, Pan, the magic of the sky is different from that which belongs to us. Not even one of our race can predict when one of them will fall," Titania took pity on him, increasing his ignorance.

"To catch a star, you must fly higher than ever before. So high and so far, until thought and time are behind you and the sky mesh spreads above you. There you must cut one of the stars from the sky and catch it before it touches the ground."

Wordcount: 1.586 Words