A/N: Gratuitous self-fulfillment present. You have been warned. Also, Slight crossover with another series; kudos to whoever recognizes it first.
I do not have a beta, so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me.
Sylvie ignored the mocking words being thrown her way by the other girls. For the sake of normalcy, however, she pretended that their insults were having an effect on her, allowing a few drops of clear liquid to fall down her cheeks. Personally, she thought the attempt at crying could only be described as quite pathetic, but it seemed to be enough to convince the other girls of her apparent distress at the moment.
On the inside, however, she was glad. For every effort that they made at bullying her, it would also keep the others away, in fear of becoming one of the group's targets as well. She much preferred the silence of a solitary existence, though she did not understand why. It was simply based on some form of intuition within her mind, which had firmly told her that getting close to people would be a very bad idea.
She… is abnormal.
Even disregarding the presence of a voice inside her head, the utterly apathy that she feels towards her current predicament would no doubt validate the statement easily. There are also certain… urges present within her that would happily attest to that as well. Urges that had always existed, even since the night she had been found on the side of the road in Burgess almost ten years ago. Those urges always rang when she is close to other humans… whispering into her mind about what things she should really be doing to them with a malicious glee. She did not know what the 'things' were exactly, but she had a pretty good feeling that it would not be pleasant.
One might argue that she is simply 'special' and should not be treated any different, however, even those with such optimism cannot deny the truth of this observation──
──Sylvie Evans' perception of the world is 'flawed'.
Though this fact bothered her on some level, she was still able to hide it under the demeanor of a meek and submissive seventeen year old, for she does not wish to arouse any suspicions upon hers.
Once again, the intuition was the reason for this behavior.
It stopped her from reacting as she trulyintended when the bullying first started. It told her of the consequences that would arise should she act on her instincts without a second thought; consequences that she would not want, nor have the ability to deal with.
Something cold collided with her head at that moment, the force of it causing Sylvie's body to jerk awkwardly to the side. Speckles of white covered her blonde hair, some falling onto her face as the snowball reaches its intended goal.
The culprits were, unsurprisingly, revealed to be the same group of girls that had tormented Sylvie before. It seems that instead of verbal attacks, they had decided to take it to a slightly more physical level. The snowball that had been thrown her way was picked up from the side of the road, deliberately mixed with dirt and grime for the effect it gives after splattering.
Not that it mattered really, she mused on the inside, as the hit barely affected her. Sylvie simply wiped the dirty snow off her face. The abnormality of her existence is not only limited to her mind, but pertains to the state of her body as well. From as far back as she could remember, her innate strength seems to far exceed that of a normal person of her age. Wounds and cuts sustained would heal within a few hours, she could run and jump better than all her peers, and lifting up items that would normally require a dozen adults to do the same was done with little trouble on her part. All these facts combined together gave birth to a theory so utterly ridiculous, so entirely alien that most would dismiss it without a second thought.
This absurdity stems from that reasoning that for a person to display so many unusual traits, ones that normal humans simply do not possess, by the logic of elimination it must mean that Sylvie Evans… simply wasn't human.
Her distorted sense of reality accepted the theory almost as soon as it formed within her mind. There just couldn't possibly be another explanation that would describe her with such appropriateness.
Following that line of reasoning, then, it can also be concluded that in order for something unnatural like her to exist, there must be others in the world that had created her too. It would be too arrogant of her to even consider anything otherwise.
… And so very, very lonely.
Humans are social creatures. While Sylvie may no longer consider herself as fully human, she was still brought up in a society where their values were indoctrinated into her from an early age. If she truly is the first (or perhaps last?) of her kind to walk this earth, Sylvie Evans would be the loneliest being to ever exist. The small part of her that is the bullied seventeen year old girl would not—could not accept that.
So she has no choice but to believe.
Fortunately for Sylvie Evans, the conclusion that she had reached through reasoning had been correct.
In the world she currently resides in, there are indeed other beings that are much like her.
In fact, one of them had watched over her for most of the girl's life, as he had watched over all the children in the world from his place in the sky.
The Man in the Moon ponders at the curious case presented before him.
Sylvie Evans, as her adoptive parents had named her… was not of this world.
It had been little under ten years ago, when he first laid eyes on the little girl that had somehow Crossed Over. While he was unable to see much into the world of her true origin, what he was able to glimpse had angered him immensely.
It was a place where War would've thrived greatly, had the horseman existed in that world. Many had suffered, with the most of all being the young girls who were left with no choice but to become weapons to an organization after losing their family. He had felt the hope in their once bright eyes being extinguished by the harsh realities of their life.
Sylvie Evans had been one of them, but by some miracle, for it cannot be described as any otherwise, she had been able to Cross into this world that is much more peaceful.
Ecstatic that one had managed to escape this fate, the Man in the Moon had carefully watched over her as she grew up. Having seemingly lost her memories as she made the Crossing, the little girl was able to start her life anew as Sylvie Evans, adopted daughter of Desmond and Katherine Evans.
She fell into her new role as the Evans' daughter with ease. He was quite surprised to find out how well she had adapted to the situation. While there are certainly a few… quirks in Sylvie that aren't usually present in a normal human, the girl was clever enough to know how to hide it away from the prying eyes of others. By all means, with the way she has settled into her new family, her story should've had a Happy Ending.
That was not the case.
Perhaps it was a piece of memory that somehow remained inside her mind even after Crossing, or perhaps her body simply remembered the previous life it has gone through- whatever the reason, Sylvie Evans had realized the difference between her and the others. While the humans around her could not have known about her origins, they were able to sense, on a subconscious level, the abnormality of her existence. The almost predatory nature of the girl, so very contradicting to her shown personality, was the reason that had led to the children acting as they did now.
He had worried, of course, for he knew the she had the potential within her to bring about much destruction. It was his duty to look after the children, meaning that he would also have to eliminate any potential threats before they become serious.
Despite that, however... she was a child too, someone that he had sworn to always protect.
And she is one of the few that still believes.
In the end, that is enough for him.
Sylvie adjusted the grey scarf around her neck as she slowly made her way across the park. The group of girls had gotten bored with her after a while, deciding to leave her alone for the rest of the afternoon in favor of going to the local mall. School had been let out early due to the snow, and without anywhere else to go, she found herself lingering at the local park to pass some time.
She had settled herself on one of the unoccupied swings, nudging herself back and forth with a steady rhythm. She could hear the sound of laughter coming from the playground, where a few kids were having a snowball fight after school had finished for the day.
It was a common scene to witness during the season of winter, and were it not for one of the unusual participants in the game, Sylvie would've ignored their presence completely, as she had done so often enough.
It was a barefooted boy, with hair as pale as the snow around him. That in itself was strange enough, but the figure made even more of an impression when the long wooden staff in his hands came into view as he hopped around the clearing alongside the children.
Her observation of the boy was cut short, as a loud bark could suddenly be heard by all the people present. All activity ceased as a large dog made its presence known. Towering over most of the park's occupants, the animal was a terrifying sight to witness as it gradually made its way towards the group of kids. When a menacing growl began emanating from the back of its throat, the children squealed fear and scattered off to all directions, leaving only the white haired boy behind.
It would've chased after those children, were it not for the remaining boy's antics the next moment. He threw a snowball at its direction, the round projectile sailing an arc through the air, finally landing precisely on the animal's flank with a thump.
The dog barked angrily, turning around to face the attack's perpetrator with a low growl. However, as it saw the boy behind him, the dog's demeanor changed as it suddenly let out a frightened whine. The whimpering grew louder when the boy picked up another snowball, his intent clear as day. He had witnessed how the dog had terrorized the children of the neighborhood, and thought this to be an appropriate way of sending out a warning.
What he did not count on, however, was the voice that suddenly rang out behind him.
"I would advise against that…" Sylvie's words startled the enough into dropping the snowball. Whirling around in surprise, he had to stumble around for a few seconds until his mind was finally able to muster up a response, "What…? Are you talking to me?"
There was no one left in the playground, as far as he could tell, so he in fact already had the answer to this question. A flare of hope began to burn within him as he considered the possibility of finally having his deepest prayer answered.
The boy was not disappointed.
Sylvie's gaze did not pass through him as countless others had done before. Instead, the grey, almost silvery orbs were now peering at him with curiosity in response to his strange behavior. She gave an affirmative nod to the question.
The boy's mind boggled as he frantically tried to wrap his mind around the situation. After so many years of being ignored, it couldn't possibly be…?
He stretched his hands towards her with a sole purpose in mind. A look of wonderment spread across his face when his fingers felt something solid, something warm... Something human, his mind supplied helpfully.
The boy prodded the soft flesh a few times more just to be sure he wasn't dreaming. After almost three hundred years, one can never be too sure about these kinds of things, and he wouldn't put it past his mind to be desperate enough to conjure up an illusion like this.
"…" Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Sylvie carefully moved away from the fingers that were poking at her face.
The boy blinked owlishly when his hands met empty air once again, before his eyes widened in utter astonishment, "You can see me! And touch me too! That's amazing!"
Not having an appropriate response to that, Sylvie simply nodded again.
The boy seemed to finally realize how odd his actions must've seen to her, for the next moment he immediately lowered his arms with a sheepish grin.
"Oops… Sorry 'bout that. What were you saying before?"
Oh, right. She had nearly forgotten the main reason that the conversation was happening in the first place. She shook her head at this lapse in focus, before shifting her gaze back towards the expectant looking boy.
"… Though it is unlikely anyone would put the blame on you, it would not be a good idea to attack Mr. Robinson's dog."
The boy snorted dismissively. "I'm not afraid of him."
"Ah …It seems that you've misunderstood me." Sylvie cocked her head to the side. "While they are both indeed quite…unpleasant, the dog is Mr. Robinson's only remaining companion."
Unpleasant was an understatement. Mr. Robinson was an old man that lived at the outskirts of the town. His explosive temper was considered to be almost legendary amongst the residents of the town. Many have witnessed (and been on the receiving end of) his sharp tongue and cutting words, which were known to be able to reduce a grown man into a weeping mess within minutes. His wife and his dog seemed to be the only exception to his temper. After the death of the former from an illness three years ago, the man had developed an even worse aversion to people, often choosing to seclude himself inside his house majority of the time. The dog was the only company he kept. If the animal was to be hurt, it is unlikely that the old man would be able to afford the veterinary bills, ultimately resulting in an experience that would be painful for the both of them.
Sylvie explained all that to the figure standing in front of her. Truthfully, however, she had begun to lose interest on the topic, and was only continuing on the conversation out of common courtesy. Furthermore, the issue itself was now almost non-existent, as the dog in question had long scampered off at the moment the two had started their exchange, wasting no time in running away as soon as the boy's attention was directed away from it.
To her satisfaction, her explanation worked its intended purpose of stunning the boy into a temporary silence. A look of guilt had made its way across his face during this time as the implications of her words were processed.
Feeling that her work here was done at that, Sylvie politely inclined her head at the boy as farewell, before turning away to begin her trip back home.
The retreating form was what shook the boy out of his stupor.
"W—wait! Come back! Hey!" He grabbed on to her wrist before she could move any further, and it was all Sylvie could do to not rip the offending appendage off permanently right…then… Wait. She paused at the thought that had suddenly appeared. Where had that come from? The subject of her thoughts seem to not have noticed anything amiss, instead continuing on with his talking with barely contained enthusiasm—
"— Do you know who I am, then?"
Sylvie tilted her head quizzically.
"Right, of course not." The boy's face felled in disappointment, but then brightened up just as quickly the next moment. "Allow me to introduce myself, then." Flourishing his hands outwards, he raised his voice in order to produce a dramatic effect —
"— I am the Spirit of Winter and Cold. The one and only… Jack Frost!"
A moment of silence followed the declaration, a far cry from the grand reaction that he had pictured in his mind.
"Oh…?" Sylvie frowned slightly as she jogged her memory for information, "The one that makes snow and frost to arrive? Nipping the nose of people in the cold weather?" she asked.
"Yep!" he beamed happily, "That's me, in the flesh!"
"… Hmm." She paused momentarily, "…I don't believe you."
"…Huh?" Jack was taken aback, a look of incredulity upon his face. "What do you mean, you don't believe me? You have to believe me in order to see me in the first place!"
For a moment, the strange wording of his statement confused Sylvie. Jack seemed to become lost in thought, as he paced back and forth on the snow while mumbling under his breath.
"… Doesn't seem like she's joking, either, I don't understand, how is this possible...Wait, I've got it!" An idea suddenly popped up in Jack's head. He grinned inwardly at the pure genius of it, before turning to the girl with renewed determination.
"I'll just have to prove it to you." He raised his arms to the air, spinning the staff in his hand to form an intricate pattern, "Watch, you're gonna love this." He promised.
As if responding to his words, the next moment a loud roar can suddenly be heard as the wind suddenly intensified. The snow followed soon after, covering the two figures under a shimmery layer of white as it gathered on top them. Against all logic, the rest of the playground was a picture of serenity as it remained undisturbed by the weather change. Jack had ensured this when he called upon his magic, so that other could not dismiss the phenomenon as a mere coincidence.
"Do you believe me now?" He smirked.
Sylvie's expression was unidentifiable, but neither did she deny his words directly. Jack's smile widened as he took that as a sign of success.
"Told you so~" He sang out, looking triumphant.
Sylvie considered this for a moment longer, before finally conceding to his argument. "Alright, you've convinced me. I believe you're Jack Frost." She then continued on, with a completely innocuous tone. "Now what?"
"...…"
The simple two words stumped him. Jack had opened his mouth as if to respond, but was forced to shut it again when he found that he did not have an answer to that.
Now what?
That… was indeed a good question. For as long as he had sought to be seen and believed in, Jack had never actually given thought to what he would do after the goal had been reached. The winter spirit was at a complete loss.
Sylvie had smiled then, before turning away for the final time that day.
This time, he did not stop her.
