The Snowflake Ball

Neverland was a truly peculiar island. Its inhabitants rarely aged, unless they chose to, and the Never Isles teemed with marvelous, magical creatures. From the majestic Neverbird soaring above to the mermaids guarding the deep waters of the lagoon, wonders never ceased.

Everywhere you turned, there was something fantastical to see, though none seemed quite as extraordinary as Peter Pan himself. Wendy, however, had a different view. While she thought Peter was a delightful boy full of surprises, she couldn’t help but find the seasonal divide of the Isles the most captivating feature.

For you see, Neverland was most peculiar in how its weather worked. Rather than pass a year going through each and every season, the Isles were so indecisive over which season they liked better, that all four were always happening at once.

The beach and jungle in which the lost boys and Tiger Lily’s tribe made their home, enjoyed days of endless summer. Perfect for afternoons of adventure and long, lazy nights around a fire, telling ghost stories, courtesy of Wendy.

In the Lilac Wood, where it was forever spring, fairies lived peacefully alongside other faerie folk, hosting midnight markets where Wendy and the boys bought most of their necessities, like food and fabric. Slightly proudly owned a fine sewing kit, said to have been assembled by hobgoblins—renowned for their domestic skills, according to his mother.

In the twisted swamp, where autumn never ended, the Boogeyman dwelled among misty, monochrome trees. Sadly, it was the only place on the island where pumpkins grew, making them rare for the children—much to Nibs’ joy. Never had there been a boy who so deeply disliked gourds.

The children were forbidden from setting foot in the swamp, by Tiger Lily. She was the only one with the guts and gall to don the black cloak and make her way through the trees, driving the nightmares back into the mist. Wendy envied her greatly. She loved anything dark and mysterious.

At the northern tip of the island, with its towering mountains and icy emerald sea, lay the Tundra—a place where it was always a frigid winter’s night. Peter swore the sun never rose there, but if you looked up at the endless inky sky, you’d see one of Neverland’s many moons, blowing on a pipe that released the most beautiful lights imaginable. They painted the barren white landscape in shades of blue, yellow, green, and turquoise.

Among the craggy mountains stood a palace of hard, glittering ice. Tall and splendid, bathed in the colors of the lights. That, Peter said, was the home of old Grandfather winter, the mysterious ruler of the season, who kept a watchful eye over the ice wraiths and lumbering abominable trolls of the frost.

Peter promised Wendy he would one day take her to see the river of light, though even he hesitated to enter the Tundra. When John once asked him why, Peter’s blue eyes hardened and he refused to explain. For a time, John imagined the ruler of Winter as terrifying as the Boogeyman—twisted straw limbs, a gaudy stitched smile, and gnarled fingers always reaching to snatch them.

Tootles assured him otherwise, saying Peter’s dislike for the Tundra wasn’t born of fear. He didn’t elaborate, claiming it was Peter’s story to tell, not his. The answer, however, was soon to come.

It had been a quiet day. The pirates’ airship kept its distance, and Peter and Wendy spent the day at the lagoon. They were planning to visit the midnight market, discussing their shopping list, while mermaids lounged around them, basking in the sun and looking beautiful.

That was when Wendy and Peter first heard the news. Two mermaids were talking nearby.

“I hope it’s not as cold this year,” Maya groaned.

“Of course it will be cold,” Merrow sighed. “It’s cold every year. You know that.”

“What are you two talking about?” Wendy asked curiously. The mermaids turned toward her.

“Oh, nothing—just the Snowflake Ball,” Maya replied with a knowing grin. “I suppose you don’t know about it, being new to the island.”

Maya loved being in the know, but even more than that, she loved explaining things to those who weren’t. She was an insatiable gossip.

“What’s the Snowflake Ball?” Wendy asked, but Peter cut Maya off before she could answer. “It’s nothing important to anyone,” he said curtly, his good mood vanishing at the mention of it.

“Nothing?” Maya scoffed, and Merrow giggled behind her hands. “Peter Pan, you know full well the Snowflake Ball is the most important party of the year.”

“You can’t expect him to care,” Merrow chimed in, “since boys are never invited.”

“I wouldn’t go even if I was invited!” Peter snapped, prompting more laughter from the mermaids, who found his annoyance adorable.

“Peter, what is the Snowflake Ball?” Wendy asked again. She had never cared for parties, but Peter’s odd behavior made her think he was hiding something.

“Tell her, Peter,” Maya pressed. “It’s only a matter of time before she gets an invitation too.”

“Me?” Wendy looked at the mermaids in disbelief. “I doubt I’ll get invited to any parties. I’m not really well-known around here.”

Maya gave her a cunning grin and pulled herself onto Marooner’s rock. Sunlight glistened on her pink and yellow scales.

“Oh, honey. You will get an invitation. He knows there’s a new girl on the island and every girl gets an invite.”

“Who is he?” Wendy asked, seeing Peter’s muscles tense at the mention of this person.

“He’s only the most eligible bachelor on the four isles!” Maya exclaimed, clearly enjoying how much this conversation was annoying Peter

“Most eligible bachelor my….!” Peter composed himself before he said something too crass in front of the ladies." Look, I don’t understand what you girls find so charming about him. He’s nothing but a goon who’s so in love with himself that he never shuts up about how great he is!”

“You two must get along great…” Wendy quipped, earning howls of laughter from the mermaids and a death glare from Peter.

"We most certainly do NOT get along, Wendy! He’s the most bullheaded person I’ve ever met!” Peter continued to rant, unaware of the fact that he was, in truth, describing his own less favorable traits.

"Well who is he then?” Wendy asked again, more determined than ever to learn who this mysterious figure was that had Peter’s blood coming to a boil.

Peter crossed his arms, not wanting so to speak any more on the subject and when Wendy would not put it to rest, he flew away, forcing her to take off after him before the mermaids could give her any more information on the Snowflake ball and its mysterious host.