Willow shut her eyes instinctively, but some of the dust had flown into her eyes, making her rub them furiously. She wondered if Lark hit his head somewhere before he came to rescue her, that might be the only reason for him to act like a crackhead. "What's wrong with you, Lark?"

But Willow received no reply. Willow knew then that he had surely gone mad in the head, because this was not the time to play hide'n go seek. Willow tried to open her eyes, but to her shock, her eyes opened without them hurting at all.

Willow gasped when she saw what was before her. She blinked, as she was dumbfounded. Because in front of her stood no more the trees nor the mansion behind her, instead she could only see a huge white palace before her blanketed with the dark sky of the night, gone was the bright sun.

Willow scrunched her brows and wondered what sort of drug did Lark blow onto her face. Whatever it was, the moment the drug will wear its effect off, she was taking someone–Lark–to the police station.

But as she thought about it, wasn't everything that had been happening to her weird? From the moment she woke up in the middle of the night to being rescued by Lark, then being drugged with, probably cocaine and in the end of her evaluation it all pointed to how Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Willow was in dreamland!

Willow chuckled. But she abruptly stopped chuckling, shouldn't she wake up by now, since she had already guessed what was happening? Willow pinched herself, but she still didn't wake up, out of dreamland.

"No." Willow shook her head, maybe this won't work out, she should just sleep and then she would probably wake up. Yes, she was going to do that.

Willow looked around, for a place to sleep, but she couldn't find anywhere. But since she was already dreaming, why won't she just imagine a big bed in front of her, but even after multiple attempts, no bed popped up from the ground.

Willow could have walked in the palace and found somewhere to rest, but her body was too stiff, and she felt like she had cramps all over. This was, the reason for sleeping in weird positions, she just hoped that she won't wake up with a back pain.

Willow then looked down at the ground, and after a big debate in her head, she lied on the cold marble below her. She placed her hands on her stomach and shut her eyes. And started counting sheep, to wake up.

"What are you doing?" Willow heard a very familiar voice, filled with joy, she opened her eyes hoping to see the the familiar ceiling and find Lark standing in front of her, asking her to make some sandwiches for him.

But what she was greeted with was, yet again the dark sky filled with beautiful, glittering stars, a bit too many of them, as if it had been splattered off a paint brush onto the canvas. And of course there was also Lark who stood above her, staring at her as if she was the one who had gone crazy.

Willow scrunched her nose at Lark and turned on her side, making herself more uncomfortable, but then again, the more uncomfortable she was the faster she would wake up.

"I didn't bring you here just to let you sleep here."

"Get lost." Willow mumbled. "Let me go back in peace."

"If you want to go back, you should stop wasting your time." Lark scoffed.

Willow sat up, and stared at Lark. "What do you mean?"

"I want you to meet someone. So hurry up."

"Meet who?" Said Willow. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You have to meet this person."

"But, why?" Willow cried.

"Well, why did you ingest Vampire blood?" Said Lark. "You got yourself in this mess."

"When did I drink Vampire blood?" Willow was confused, but then her eyes widened. Vampire blood? Did that mean that Nick had made her drink Vampire blood? Willow subconsciously felt like vomiting, but she wasn't able to.

"Come along now." Lark started walking into the white Palace. Not knowing what else to do, she followed him.

"Lark?" Willow called. "What's happening? Am I dreaming?"

"You'll know once you meet the person I want you to meet."

"But how can this person even help me? I don't even know him."

Lark turned to look at her. "You know him."

Willow narrowed her eyes, she certainly didn't know anyone who lived in a pretty white palace, the only person who even lived in a palace was Rowan, but his palace was nothing like the one before her, since the one in front of her looked like it was cut out of a big block of LED. It was too bright.

Willow looked around and noticed that there weren't much people in here, and they all looked like they jumped out of Vogue, with their perfect faces kept blank, their clothes were just as white as the palace she was in. Willow felt embarrassed walking down these bright walls in her pink pyjamas.

But Willow was thankful that no one kicked them out for trespassing, or at least she was, until someone stopped them.

"Prince Lark of the Seelie." Greeted the person. She, just like everyone else was wearing a bright white colored long dress.

"Ah, it's Yasmin, just the person I was waiting for." Said Lark, sarcastically. "I thought I'd have to walk for a couple hours before I'd be able to find you. Bet you were hiding from me."

Yasmin, stared at him blankly, it seemed as if she didn't even want to talk to the immature person before her. "I'm glad that I came just in time."

"Now that's no way to treat a prince." Lark scoffed.

"I don't serve you." Said Yasmin, her eyes widened when they moved over to look at Willow, who stood behind Lark. "You bought her." She nodded. "Follow me."

Lark made a face at Yasmin, who had already started walking down the hallway.

After multiple hallways, they finally stopped in front of a large double door. Yasmin knocked on the white door, lined by gold. She opened the door without sparing much effort when the person inside responded for them to enter, which shocked Willow, because the doors looked quite heavy.

Willow stepped inside after Lark and was hit with the familiar smell of paint and wood. She looked around and was awestruck when she saw easels and canvases all around the room.

"You're here." Willow heard a familiar voice and then she noticed the person inside the room, who was holding a palette in one hand and a paint brush in another.

Willow gasped. "Dad?"

The young man's eyes widened, that is when she snapped out of her reverie and noticed how absurd it must have sounded. She shook her head, looking embarrassed she said, "No, it's impossible, my dad isn't this young, nor was was he this handsome and he never dressed up–"

"Okay, okay, you should stop now." Said the person who looked like her dad said.

"Oh I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Stop," said her dad's look alike, as he glared at her making Willow grow nervous. "How dare you say that your father isn't handsome?"

Willow was dumbstruck. Did she say that her father wasn't handsome?

"Shouldn't you be happy?" Said Lark. "She just said that you're the most handsome."

She didn't say that either. Because Rowan was the most handsome in her eyes. At the thought of Rowan, she grew worried because she had sensed him near her back when she was in the woods.

"Well yes but," said the other man. "But she also called me ugly."

Willow was speechless, what were these people trying to play with her? She had been fifteen when when her father had passed away, not five.

But Willow had to agree that the man before her had a lot of similarities with her dad. He had the same ginger hair, the same blue eyes and even his face was structured just like her father's, anyone could be fooled into believing that they were the same person, the only difference was the age. So he could easily pass for Willow's older brother.

"Lark," said Willow. "You didn't tell me why you brought me here."

Lark look at her as if he was looking at someone stupid.

Willow just wanted to return back home. She scrunched her nose, showing that she was annoyed at whatever Lark was doing. "What are you playing at?"

"That's your father."

"Yeah, and I'm your grandmother." Willow rolled her eyes.

"My grandmother is around a thousand years old." Said Lark.

"Seriously?"

"I'm serious indeed."

"Well my father is dead, so I suggest that you stop playing at this." Willow glared at Lark and the other man.

"You were born on nineteenth of November, sixteen years ago. That day was one of the best days in my life. When you were four, all you did was speak gibberish yet you had said that you wanted to be like me, your father. You used to drink hot chocolate every night before going to bed, but stopped when you turned thirteen, without mentioning why and when you were nine–"

"So where did you scout all this information from?" Willow crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look intimidating though internally she had already started to waver and in scared her, she didn't want to believe in whatever prank this was, or worse, it might be just another dream.

"When you were seven, you broke your mother's favourite antique vase."

"Holy sh–" Willow stared at the man–her father?–before her, she was indeed believing him now, but how was it even possible for her father to be back from the dead? No, he wasn't back from the dead, but he was in heaven, that would explain why everything was all white here and everyone so pretty. But what was she doing here? Did she–? No, she was too young to die! She couldn't have! She shouldn't have!

Or was it Lark who blew poison on her face, which killed her and now she was in heaven, beside her father?

But Willow had missed her father greatly, whatever it was, she was also great full that she could meet him here.

"And then we buried it under the bigger oak tree, I'm sure if I dig it out then I'll–" Axel Greene, Willow's father stopped abruptly when he saw Willow crying. "Hey, I wouldn't snitch on you, stop crying, I'm sorry if I scared you. Come here."

"Dad," Willow whispered as she stared at her father.

"Come on, I was just joking." Axel pulled Willow into a hug.

"How are you here?" Willow sobbed. "You had–" willow shook her head. "Didn't you–"

"Die?"

Willow remained silent.

"I know this might be too much for you to take in, and might not even want to believe in any of this."

"I believe you." Said Willow.

Axel smiled, even though he looked twenty years younger than what Willow remembered him to be, the smile still had the familiar hint in her father's smile. "I'm glad that you do. But why are you here?"

"Ah? Why am I here?" Willow looked at Lark.

"You see, Willow drank some blood. Vampire blood."

"Blood?" Said Axel.

Willow scoffed. "You make it sound as if I drank it on purpose."

Lark looked nervous as he said, "She was kidnapped, and then forced to drink blood."

"Kidnapped?" Axel exclaimed.

"Did you hear that? I think someone is calling for me." Said Lark, in an attempt to escape. "I have to leave now, my grandma is probably sick—no she is sick."

"You had one job Lark!"