His first memories were of cold, darkness, fear, the moon which melted his fear and gave him his name, and the wind who had since been a constant, silent companion.

His next few memories were of the wonder at his powers, the freedom of flying with the wind, and the pain that came with no one being able to see or hear or touch him. The pain of being walked through as if he were nothing but an illusion.

The next three hundred years were a time that he did not look back on with nostalgia or fondness or anything but a please-no-don't-let-me-go-back-to-that-don't-make-me-please. More often than not he chose to not think about it. He steered clear of the subject even when the Guardians brought it up out of concern for his wellbeing, usually brought on by something concerning his health.

Like not eating, or going days without sleep, or how ragged and worn his clothes looked, or how he froze over water rather than swim in it, or how he couldn't read, how he reacted when someone touched him, or anything and everything else they found that they wanted to change. He was open to some of it, of course. He welcomed the bed, the room, the food and the new clothes they gave him. He couldn't stop grinning for days after he finally learned how to read and would lean in to hugs after he realized they cared and that they weren't going to just throw him away.

He refused to go anywhere near water though and the other Guardians weren't sure how to broach that topic and so eventually let it lie for a while. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it forever though.

Jack Frost's memories of the years after Jaime and Sophie and the others grew up were fuzzy. It hadn't been a good time for him. He had been slow to gain believers, and though the Last Lights never stopped believing in him or the rest of the Guardians, they were busy, they were teenagers, they were adults, they work and college and family and no time to throw away worries, even for a day.

After that? Years after that? The world shook and groaned and shifted and cracked. It was the only way Jack knew how to describe it. The world was besieged by dragons and other legends made real. The land burned, shrunk and sank beneath monster waves. No mortal creature was spared. Not even the living myths themselves.

Believers dropped like flies. The other Guardians grew weaker by the day. Jack, however, stayed the same as he had even when no one had believed in him.

His memories of those days consisted mainly of fear.

For mortals, the Age of Luxury as they call it shifted into an Age of Tragedy. For Jack, it was an Age of Distress and Adjustment. The Guardians who once protected only the children of the world had to change themselves, their very nature, to survive this and they all knew it.

It had been a time which they all came together, becoming more of a family than they had even in years past. North tapped into the winter season which his holiday had been in, expanded his workshop and his ability and skillset. He changed so much of himself that a physical change was needed to handle the shift in power, just as it was for Tooth, Bunny, and the Sandman.

North was still large, but now most of that was muscle and he towered over all of them, even Bunny when he was standing on two feet. He created things and left gifts for all of humanity and, occasionally, other creatures to. Gifts that they needed more so than the little wants of children back during Luxury. There was no Nice or Naughty list. There was only The List. The list of people that desperately needed something to get them through winter. He was colder to the touch and although he may never gain the mastery over winter as Jack, what with Jack being the spirit of winter itself, but wherever he went, the temperature lowered enough the people could see their breaths.

Tooth changed in that her dragonfly wings shifted to feathered hummingbird ones and there were four of them still. Her fairies changed along with her. She didn't change so much in size as she did in shape, though. She looked a little more human now, her ears became pointed and longer and Jack thought once that she was more like how humans thought of elves not associated with Santa. As she worked throughout the year and had no true holiday, she tapped into something else for the strength she needed to get through this lack of belief.

Wherever Tooth went now, one would be reminded of good memories, soothing ones that eased their troubled minds. By extension, her mini fairies also had this effect, but Baby Tooth was different. She changed more out of all of them. Her feathers shifted to grey and silver and white and ice blue. Jack could understand her easier than he had been able to before.

He found out that was because he had Named her. She was changing to better handle the winter weather he brought because ever since she had been Named by him, she had been tied to him. It took until now for her changes to affect her physical appearance though. She was his scout, his messenger, his assistant in the same way North had his yetis, Tooth had her mini-teeth, and Bunny had the sentinels and googlies. Sandy had his dream sand, which according to Toothiana, was something of a mix between what the Wind was to Jack and a physical assistant like Baby Tooth.

The Sandman changed in that, wherever he went, your eyelids would feel heavy and your mind would ask for sleep. Lullabies may sing in your mind and though you can resist it, though the Sandman could restrain it, you may still feel the call of sleep and rest. Only if you needed it, they found out. For a well-rested person, it eased their aches and pains for a little while, allowing their body to rest and recover and wake up a bit more as if they had gotten another night's rest. He could also turn himself into dream sand. That had freaked everyone out the first time he tried it.

Bunny changed a lot to. His holiday had been tied to Spring, and so while it seemed at first that he hadn't physically changed at all, his change had been simply waiting. Vines grew out from his shoulders, and ankles, wrapping around his arms and legs. He found that he could manipulate them, move them as he would his limbs and that, as he walked, little seeds of at least a hundred different plants would form from these vines, break off, and drop. Supposedly this was so they'd be buried in soil and grow wherever they landed.

Jack wanted to change to. He didn't want them to be the ones to have changed all so they could survive while Jack didn't.

So Jack looked at his Center. He found Joy, which for him often took the form of Fun. He found Winter and all of the concepts associated with it, spanning all of the human cultures which managed to survive till now.

And there, he found something else. What it was, he couldn't say. It was like a thought or a word at the tip of his tongue. Almost there, ready to spring to the forefront of his mind at any moment, but not near enough that he could say it.

Jack dove head first into it, grabbed it tight and pulled.