A/N: Okay...so, you know that thing where I wanted to stick just with "Shards of Ice" and NOT start a chapter story?

Well, that plan got screwed. Congrats, people, you now have the beginnings of a chapter story.

Don't make me regret this...

BTW, this is very. Very. Very AU. I repeat, very AU. This is so AU I can't even...

So if you come to me with complaints along the lines of, "well, this isn't really what happened in the movie..." then I will not be held responsible for my actions.

Got that?

Okay.

Now here's a short prologue. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own a computer, a sarcastic streak a mile wide, and a load of sass, but not RotG.

Emily Nordwind Overland had always known that her son was a strange child.

Oh, she may try to deny it, and hide it, and avoid it, but the fact remained that her dear Jackson was very, very, very far from normal.

She had realized this when he was but a little child, when his chocolate-brown eyes would glaze over slightly, gazing at something far away that no one else could see. He would stay utterly frozen for a few seconds, before abruptly coming back to his senses and shaking his little 'fit' off.

At first, Emily had thought nothing of it. As long as he didn't hurt or damage people or things, she was content.

Then, it started getting worse.

His 'fits' grew longer, and he would sometimes freeze for hours at a time, barely blinking and barely breathing as he looked intently at something only he could see. Sometimes, his mouth would open and he would mumble half-intelligible phrases and words that meant nothing (at least, as far as she could tell. The words he uttered during his 'fits' were more slurs than anything else, but she was able to make out a few, such as "Angel", "trapped", and "mine").

It only grew worse and worse. Doctors could do nothing for him, not even when his 'fits' grew more violent. She still remembered that time when he had smashed a plate during one of them.

Then, the climax came. Jackson had been playing with other children when one of his "fits" came upon him. From what witnesses had claimed, 'that strange Overland child' had stared oddly at one of the older boys, before he had, without provocation, attacked him. The boy had sustained several injuries, and the worst part was that when Jack came back to his senses, he had no memory of his assault on his playmate.

It had gone too far.

It didn't mean that she didn't love him all the same, however. A mother's love is constant and unchanging, and just because her child was not quite right in the head didn't mean that she didn't love him with every fiber of her being.

But these were troubled times, where superstition and fear abounded, and being 'strange' could have drastic and bloody consequences. People were only too willing to rip other people apart, just because of an inkling of a suspicion that a person may be possessed, or a witch, or a demon.

Personally, Emily didn't believe in such superstitious nonsense. But it wasn't her opinion that mattered, after all.

So they had moved. Moved away from the village, to a small abandoned cottage in the middle of the woods. It was a cozy place, with game to hunt and a lake nearby for fishing. And it was here that she and her husband had their second child, a girl they had named Emmaline. A beautiful, kind, charming, blissfully normal girl.

Needless to say, Emily and her husband had doted on the child. Emmaline had grown up in a world where everything was perfect and the words "No, Emmaline" did not exist. She had been practically spoiled. And Jackson (inept, crazy, sick, broken Jackson) had been left on the sidelines, left to watch as his parents and younger sibling lived in a small world of their own where he had no place. No one had noticed when his 'fits' grew more frequent and longer, when there were times that he felt he had no control over his limbs or mind, when he slowly began to spiral into the depths of terrifying insanity.

And it was only when her husband died, that Emily realized how utterly stupid she had been. How callous she had been to abandon her son when he needed her most. How horrible she had been to her only son.

The problem was, by that time, it was too late.

The mother of two pressed her back against the wall, the tiny hand of her daughter held tightly in her fingers. She knew what was going to happen. It was inevitable.

But such was her fate, she mused. She had sinned when she had abandoned her son, and now it was time for her to face the consequences. She could only hope that her daughter wouldn't get caught in the crossfire.

She gazed into the eyes of the boy in front of her (not her son, that fiend was not her son). She ignored the knife the fiend was holding, she ignored his strangely blank and emotionless face, she ignored the dark red liquid staining his fingertips. She had eyes only for his own.

"Jack, don't do this. Think of your sister."

The fiend stared at her, his face still blank, his brown eyes hazy and unfocused.

And then he spoke, a harsh, disused sound, as if he had been swallowing pebbles.

"I am not Jack."

He moved closer to her, the pungent smell of coppery pain clinging closely to his frame. Emily's heart faltered as he suddenly grinned at her, and she noticed with a jolt that his white teeth were now more like pointed fangs.

Then the knife was at her throat, and her breathing stopped.

And the gravelly voice spoke once more.

"My name is Angel."

A/N:

Oookay, Sparky, so here's the deal. Jack has some weird multiple-personality issues. His alter ego is named Angel (later Snow Angel). Jack is good. Angel is a killer. Jack can't remember anything he does as Angel and vice versa. Ya see?

...

Meh, don't worry. It'll all become clear soon.

See ya next chappie, folks! ::waves::

P.S. Also, if you review, you get cookies! :3

Nah, just kidding. You won't get any cookies. But you'll get a happy authoress...who will update faster...(yes this is bribery).

...Think about it?