Jack stared down at the hole in the ice, body numb with shock. He had been at Jamie's, goofing off as usual, when he sensed it happen. It was already early May, and Jack hadn't bothered to reform the ice over the pond, thinking that no one would be foolish enough to go out on the thin frost; he, unfortunately, had been wrong. The Guardian of fun sunk down on the ice, the fragile surface immediately solidifying under his touch, a dozen or so centimeters of ice freezing thickly into place. Through the numbness Jack could only feel guilt; the emotion washed over him in waves as he thought of the dozens of different ways he could have changed this child's fate, so that she didn't have to die.
"You couldn't have done anything to save her, Guardian," a voice spoke from beside him, Jack's gaze moving over to stare at the figure that had appeared from nowhere. She appeared a few years older than Jack's physical age, standing on the bank of the pond, bored expression in place. Curly red hair, the color of bloodied flames, was tucked back into a large, black hood of the cloak she wore, emotionless grey eyes staring down at Jack. Her skin was as pale as his, though while his had a touch of rosiness to it hers was a sickly shade of grey, of death. Beneath the cloak she was almost as barefoot as Jack was, the sight of bandage-wrapped pale feet barely visible from underneath the hem of black trousers.
"It was her time to die after all," the woman continued, moving forwards to step on the ice, following Jack's previous footsteps as to not crash through into the pond as well, though they both knew it wouldn't, couldn't, kill her.
Jack didn't respond, merely hugging his knees to his chest, watching the woman crouch next to the circle in the ice, right arm disappearing into the watery depths, moving about as if she were searching for something. "I'm supposed to guard children," Jack eventually murmured, causing the woman to pause and give him a thoughtful look. "I've been a Guardian for five years, and now because of me she-"
"You are not expected to guard the children from all there is, Jokul Frosti. Death has to claim all in the end, and some sooner than we may like," the woman cut in, her emotionless expression shifting slightly, a soft glare touching upon her features. "You will have to come to terms with this sooner than you may like, but it is the truth. Even one day your precious Jamie will be taken-"
"You leave him alone!" Jack exclaimed, immediately on his feet as a surge of protectiveness raced through him, staff held tightly in his grip. "Don't you dare touch him, Reaper!"
The woman sighed, shaking her head while muttering something in Nynorsk before looking up at the winter spirit, the emotionless look once again in place. "Relax, Frosti. It is not his time yet. Though," she paused, sending him an almost pitying look, "Jokul, he is not of your or my kin; he is a mortal, and will eventually die."
Jack started at this, as if it had not occurred to him before; he mentally smacked himself a moment later, because of course Jamie would die one day, he was human. Jack had not given the concept thought yet, not while Jamie was only fifteen and as childish as ever, and he did not want to for several decades, . "…I told you before, Reaper, call me Jack," he finally sighed, backing down in acknowledgment to her logic.
"And I have told you before, do not call me Reaper. There are hundreds of reapers from all sorts of different beliefs; I am merely a manifestation of one," she chided him, finally pulling back from the hole, the arm that was inside the frigid water coming up, unaffected, and grasped in her hand was a bright orb, glowing softly, no bigger than someone's eye.
"Yeah, yeah, well Reaper's easier to pronounce than your full name," Jack quipped, before staring at the orb in her grip, a mourning expression returning to his face as the guilt surged back to the surface of his mind.
The crimson haired woman sighed, shaking her head. "You could simply shorten it if three syllables is too arduous a task for you." Grey eyes seemed to flash a teasing expression at him before glancing down at the soul in her palm. "Did you know her?" she asked in curiosity.
"Not too well, she didn't believe in me," he replied with a shake of his head. "But she was only nine, and she had lived here her whole life…"
"Do not mourn her, Jokul. Instead celebrate the life that she lived, and pray for her happiness in the next life." With that said the soul disappeared inside the vastness of the woman's cloak, the reaper moving forward to place a comforting hand on the Guardian's head.
Jack looked up, sighing once before giving a curt nod in response to her advice, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll try. Until next time then, Val?"
"Yes, though hopefully under more favorable terms. Farewell, Jack," she murmured with a soft smile, before with a sound of flapping wings, she disappeared.
Bahhh just a little concept that's been jabbering about in my head as I decide which way Make A Choice will be going plot-wise, ignore me OTL