Author's Note: this is the prologue/teaser for a set of fanfics I shall be posting soon :3 The first book is actually a RP of specific moments in the life of my one RotG/GoC OC Esteia 'Stella' Luxia Pitchiner. That one is yet to be converted into fanfic material. The second book was inspired by the MLP song "The Moon Rises" by Ponyphonic (With many many feels).
(after a few Roleplays of Kozmotis!Pitch and then THIS...I'm starting to feel so bad for him )
~quick summary of both~
A horrible misunderstanding frees Kozmotis Pitchiner from the clutches of a thousand Fearlings, and now his sister, the Spirit of Wishes, starts out to help bring one of his true. Thus sparking a series of events that soon lead to a new Golden Age on Earth. But as things get sweeter, old wounds take it with a grain of salt, and the balance of the cosmos finds this an opportunity to rectify itself yet again...
Enjoy the little tidbit :3 thanks for reading, and stick around for next actual thing! :)
And to my actual readers - XD sorry I haven't been exactly...alive this summer. 2 months of camps and trips, with free time filled by . XD I'm cracking down on myself, now, though. Look! This was as only written yesterday! XD
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR THE OC ESTEIA. NO NOT EVEN THE MUSIC THAT INSPIRED THIS OR IT'S LYRICS. OR THE AWESOME MOVIE AND BOOKS. THIS IS A FANFICTION FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THANK YOU.
Kozmotis stepped out onto the long balcony he and his sister shared, looking out over the capitol city and the last of the sunset smeared just above the horizon of the mountain range. He closed his door gently, quietly, not wanting to disturb Esteia next door whether she was sleeping or Wish Meditating, as both their rooms opened onto this balcony and it bordered the length of both rooms' far wall. He moved to the railing and propped his elbows on it with a desolate sigh, looking out over this newest golden Age with a faraway, conflicted gaze.
Just over a thousand years ago he had reveled in the sight of the peace and prosperity he and all the other current Spirits had presided over for the past ten thousand. But about 1,500 years or so ago, Kozmotis had started feeling...restless, perhaps is the best word. Outcast yet again.
He'd started nit-picking and brooding over certain things, such as how many, *many* more subjects stirred or came to speak with he and his sister (as for some reason the people of Earth had grown to view them as slightly higher than the rest) *during the day*, which Esteia had grown to have closer association with after he was freed from his cage inside Pitch Black. Sure, this...'fascination' with how much the people like her - and maybe even *all the others* -more than him had started very, very slimly, almost unnoticably, and he'd tried to disregard it once he caught himself with such horrid thoughts (how could he think that of his sister, and his fellow Spirits?!), but still...his mind kept being drawn to it, and soon over the course of a century he decided to simply observe.
Everyone's habits...
Their manner at different times and around him and Esteia...
How many Earth creatures and Spirits were up and about...
...during the day.
Even after Esteia got the vast majority of humans to know that 'The Boogeyman' wasn't a monster under the bed for mean reasons anymore, the collective population still had it engraved in their instincts to be wary of the night; of the time when you can't hardly see unless MiM was full. When deadly, nocturnal predators could be lurking around. When that lanky man Tsar Kozmotis, whom you flinch at even though he is amiable to everyone and you know it, would probably be skulking around the globe, watching over his time which you seem to so rudely value less than the day.
Seriously, the day was caused by a star. What was the night sky bejeweled in? Stars! heck, Stella didn't always have slightly closer ties to day than night! Before the Spirit of Summer caused the cave-in that cost Pitch his life, she had been more in-between, like the twilight her truer home rides on.
The former general took a sweeping gaze over the Capitol once again and sighed. Still hardly a soul out and about, other than the usual few remaining Fearlings that shaded every town but were well kept in check by the nice balance that had been established with Pitch's death.
They still ignored him, after all those years...
Nothing's changed. Not really, not since the tail end of the original Golden Age.
His gaze hardened a little, and he looked up from unconsciously bowing his head to look at the capitol's taller buildings once again before letting himself melt into shadow.
Tsar Kozmotis Pitchiner reappeared in a large field ten miles outside of the city, his noble dark purple uniform coat with golden spiral embroidery along the edges dancing round his ankles in time with the three-foot grass in the light mountain breeze. The field was in between a few mountains and a large, swift river that had kept very early settlers out, which was why his sister had always liked to stargaze there for the last 40,000 years - hardly any city light ever reached it enough to make much difference to the quality at which the constellations above were visible. That was why he had dubbed it 'Stella's Valley' not long after breaking free of Pitch, because when she was down to Earth she could often be found there, and why the two of them liked to come here sometimes. It was secluded and scenic. They had even gotten a rule voted on that nothing 'man-made' was allowed to be established within ten miles of that secluded meadow...
He clasped his hands casually behind his back and paced along the edge of the thick forest bordering the field, the woodland to his right and a small hill a few feet to his twelve-o'-clock.
"Now the hour has come at last
The soft and fading light," Kozmotis thought out loud to himself,
"Has crossed the west horizon
And has bidden us goodnight."
He looked up from his steps and looked out over the nocturnal field to his left fondly. "And what a lovely night it is
To walk a moonlit field
To see the softer shades
That are by starlight now revealed," he mused as he stepped into the shade cast by a few tree limbs and stroked a branch shadow that fell on his hand, letting it snake around his fingers and hand happily.
He did not speak again until he meandered up the middle of the rise and sat on its crest, the full moon hanging just behind him, having risen at the perfect time to appear to rest on the crest as well. The Tsar could see the Capitol city from here. Somewhat. Not because of the dark - he could always see beautifully clearly through it - but because it was nestled between the foot edges of two mountains a few miles away in front of him, and the cool blue-white light it cast at night was easy to pick out.
He sighed as he sat down heavily, his coat flaring out behind him, knees bent before him and wrists resting on them so that his arms were suspended between them and his shoulders. His gaze was tired and sad, and if one looked excruciatingly close, they might see a flare - a microscopic flare of anger and jealousy, leaping about as if trying to tear at a the backs of his pupils.
"So why is it that now,
When all is quiet and at rest," he began to lament, starting to feel a good deal of confusion and sadness welling up inside of him as he thought about it more,
"When candles glow and all the world
Is at its very best
The people of the Golden Age
Should lock themselves away
To shun the moon and wait instead
For Sister's sunny day?"
He trailed off, sight focusing absently, somberly, on the grass pushed down near his feet.
In umbra Nocte est, the positive-vibrating male voice of the moon whispered sadly, carried down to the tall man's right shoulder by a quivering moonbeam after a moment of depressed silence.
Kozmotis gritted and bared his teeth in annoyance and a fresh bit of rage. He knew what all Manny meant by that: he was upset, and Manny didn't like seeing him upset. Also, he was somewhat in Esteia's shadow, but shadow can always be stepped out of, in this case talking over his concerns with his sister and maybe even the other Spirits instead.
But it was MiM's attempt to stop something horrible that helped trigger it, on accident. As it usually is when advice is given to those drowning in a sea of emotions.
Kozmotis stood and whirled around on the moon, gesturing behind himself at the city, expression twisted in rage...as well as a bottom tint of sorrow. "Am I so wrong to wish that they
Would see things like I do?" he roared accusingly. His next words were just as harsh and saddened, but he visibly and audibly softened with more sincere sorrow than heat in them.
"And am I so wrong to think
That they might love me, too?" The former general dropped his gesturing arm as he spoke this, bowing his head, closing his eyes and clasping his hands over his old, guilt-tortured heart. He sharply turned his back to the moon's face again, scowling at the earth at his feet and clenching his arms stiff down at his sides, "Why shouldn't they adore me?
Is it not within my right?"
He whirled around to Luna again, this time standing straight and proud as a general should. "I'll not be overshadowed!
Mine is not the lesser light!" he proclaimed, tapping half-curled fingers like claws to his chest in desperate emphasis. He curtly turned away yet again, straight and clenched as before but now looking off to the side and down, as if not wanting to meet the capitol's eyes in grudge, nor the satellite.
"I've waited long enough now
For them all to come around!" He gestured openly to the city in question with one arm and stepped to stand sideways and glare at the moon.
"And though the Sun may plead and threaten,
The Moon will stand his ground," he declared courageously as he turned a little to look at the city again, softening a little before standing proud, straight, and obviously stressed again.
...A meteor streaked the sky above the city. Kozmotis paused, panting heavily to himself like an enraged bull though he stood strongly, to watch the infinitely short yet distantly long-feeling line of light, thinking about his dear old friend Sandy who was probably fervently wishing on it at that very moment for personal reasons.
Too bad no one else was probably out to Wonder at it...
Wait...
He held up a hand to himself and summoned some of his shadowsand thoughtfully. After a dead silent moment his stressed teeth spread onto a clever 'eureka!' grin like tempting devil, brought upon his usually always-stalwart face by an absolutely brilliant idea.
He felt it was brilliant, anyway.
He remembered blotting out suns before. It shouldn't be too hard again. Although, he didn't have to go that far...at least not right away...that might hurt Stella...why, a nice dome of shadowsand, with its mismatched color that scientifically absorbs heat and quite closely mimics the night sky, as well as being proficient at blocking out light in all its forms, would work just as swimmingly! It would keep that blasted Star Child sister of his busy and maybe even weaken her, either way, immediately or eventually, as she tried to keep the world bright where need be for her scrambling subjects. She always was somewhat meddling. Hey, maybe even the other Spirits would scramble to assist! Maybe they would beg for him to let the Light back through the Dark, forfeit most or all of the blessed acknowledgement that the people hadn't been owing him.
He swirled the sand a little in his fingers, gaze floating up to his zenith with that grin and air of pride. "And all will know the wonder
Of my dark and jeweled sky
When all the world is wrapped
In an eternal lullaby..."
His gaze drifted back down to the earth, the very dying rays of the previous day just barely winking over the horizon of mountains to his right, as if scrabbling for a handhold on the planet. Kozmotis's gaze cooled, and he spoke slowly as he watched them be dragged away by Sol, just as slowly growing a thin smile. "So say goodnight at this,
The final setting of the sun
Tomorrow dawns in darkness
The nighttime has begun!"
At the last word, he blinked. Normally this is such a normal action, but when the blink opened again his warm chocolate-amber eyes were gone, replaced by faded silver-gold irises that the Earth knew all too well...
The Fearlingless, new and improved Pitch Black cackled richly with satisfaction to the sky, clawing hands held out to the sides as if he could already expect his victory to rain down upon him from the twinkling diamonds overhead. A small group of shade from the tall grass and tree limbs even darted out to circle the Tsar.
The Man in the Moon sighed and stepped away from his telescope.