Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or its characters. I make no money off this story. My OC Pyralis/Azar belongs to me, so no stealy :)
Summary: A few years after the "death" of Pitch, the Guardians return for a happy reunion at Tooth Palace, only to have it ruined when a new threat threatens not only the lives of children and the Guardians, but the whole world as well. Will we survive…or perish?
Rating: T
Warnings: Ask
SladinForever
It was night and it was cold. Oh so very cold. Darkness and shadows filled the city of Paris, France, all the lights dimmed or snuffed out. One of the iconic buildings, Notre Dame, was also unlit, the gargoyles gleaming in the pale moonlight. One seemed to be missing, though the magnificent structure looked undisturbed. The city itself seemed peaceful enough. However…the streets were deserted, not a single soul in sight. Not even a whisper on the wind could be heard. Was it simply a blackout? Or was there something more? Something…that would strike fear into those that saw it?
"…HrrrrAWRRRRRRR!"
There was a sound like an air horn, a sudden gust of wind, and then the crashing noise of something hitting hard stone. Grey dust rose swiftly in the air around the front of Notre Dame. As it began to clear, an ash-skinned man with wild, spiked-back black hair, and wearing black pants and black cloak that was exposed at the sternum, pressed his hands to the pillar and began to stand. The ground trembled beneath his feet. He looked up and saw a giant stone gargoyle slowly coming near him on all fours, its wild, stone eyes faintly glowing white. Its long, spade-ended tail lashed around behind it. Thick, sharp, stone nails left cracks in the inlaid, cobbled stones with each bone-chilling step. Gritting pointed, pale white teeth, the man stepped forward, holding his arm out to the side a few inches. Swirling, black shadows wrapped around his wrist and out towards his fingers as he glared at the gargoyle.
"Die."
Vanishing, the man reappeared high in the air above the gargoyle before he came down at its head. Placing his hands against its skull, the shadows pressed down hard, forcing the gargoyle over sideways. The ground quaked violently as its stone body crashed into the stone. It snarled as it fell. Its tail swiftly came whipping up from the right, the end slapping the man right in the neck and head. He cried out in pain as he was sent flying, blood flying from a wound that was sliced into him against a neck tendon. He crashed sideways into the stone before bouncing once and landing on his back. He slid back a few inches before stopping, his legs both turned to one side and his arms sticking away from his sides.
Grunting, the gargoyle dug its front claws on one foot into the ground and tried to get back on its feet. It was a troublesome feat, being made out of solid stone and weighing several tons and all. It even used its tail for support as it forced its way up. Facing the fallen man, the gargoyle growled and then opened its mouth wide to screech again. Out of nowhere, a large blast of burning hot, orange and red fire came hurtling towards the gargoyle's face. Its eyes widened seconds before the immense blast hit, sending it flying at tremendous speed into the door of the cathedral. Feeling the ground shake beneath his body, the man dug his elbows into the ground as he sat up, slightly disoriented. Shaking his head, he looked over and saw smoke and flames surrounding the front of the cathedral.
"Can't even stop a measly little gargoyle?" a young, male voice asked. Jerking his head to the left, the man saw a young male with flaming red hair standing a few feet away, staring at the cathedral. "And here I thought you were stronger than that…" The young man turned his head in his direction, smirking and adding, "Pitch."
Pitch Black's—also known as the Boogeyman—cold, black eyes narrowed. Who was this suddenly-came-out-of-nowhere boy? Before he could even ask, the sound of rocks crumbling and falling away reached their ears. Looking over, they both saw the gargoyle step forward, pieces of its head falling away into shards. One ear was broken off in half and one of the cheeks had a small crater in it. Gritting its stone fangs, the gargoyle opened its mouth wide again.
"GRRRAWRRRRRRRRRR!"
The young man grinned maliciously. "It seems this one has been enhanced to endure devastating attacks. Then again, fear is a strong motivator…"
Pitch's eyes widened. "I do not believe you and I have met, Lord…?"
The gargoyle charged at them.
"My true name is Pyralis, but I much prefer Azar," the young man answered. Lifting his right hand by his side, Azar formed a hot flame in the palm of his hand. Pitch began to stand, never having heard of him before. At the moment, he seemed to be an ally. "You better pay close attention, Pitchy." The flame began to grow, spreading around Azar's entire hand. "Because I am about to show you true power."
Before Pitch could yell, "wait", Azar ran forward, a trail of smoke falling behind as he ran towards the charging gargoyle. When they were a few feet away, Azar leaped high into the air, curled his fire-engulfed hand into a fist, and then aimed a punch for the very top of the stone gargoyle's head. As the two opposing forces touched, everything that happened, happened so fast. What was almost mistaken for an explosion, fire erupted from the gargoyle's head and engulfed Azar and its body. It cried out into the darkness, forcing the flames to widen their assault and shroud Azar and the gargoyle itself. A blast of hot, fiery air flew at Pitch. Gasping, he quickly lifted his arms in front of his face and chest and was hit by the aftershock of the blast. He flew back fast, crashing into the steps leading up to the cathedral and tumbling down a few within seconds. After he rolled, he reached out and grabbed a step, causing him to smash down on the steps below. With his eyes closed, he growled in pain as it spread through his chest and legs.
Soon, all that could be heard was the roaring sound of the fire that remained and the sound of millions of stone pieces as they fell to the ground. Slowly lifting his head, Pitch pushed up off the step with his hands and looked over the landing. He saw the flames crackling high into the air, covering a wide range of street. Looking around, he couldn't see Azar anywhere. But, then, something caught his eye towards the center of the field. Getting up and placing his right foot on the next step above, Pitch's eyes narrowed in a glare, his brow furrowed as he saw the silhouette emerging from the rising smoke and flames. Azar slowly raised his arms in the air from his sides.
"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen! It has been a real pleasure serving you today! Now, now, no need to bow!" When Azar was near the top of the steps, he stopped, dropping his arms. "Just doing my civic duties and blah, blah, blah, you're welcome, don't forget to…wash your socks or something." Pitch stared in annoyance at him. "How did you like that, hm? I just saaaay-aved your life."
Snorting, Pitch seemingly glided up the stairs, dropping down half an inch when he stopped a few feet from Azar. "I did not need your help, boy. I was going to destroy that nightmare-"
"How? From the ground?" Azar asked. "Pa-lease! That thing was ready to bite your spiky head off!It was a good thing I have been keeping track of you for some time now, Pitch, otherwise you wouldn't be here anymore. Then no one would know fear and the meddlesome Guardians would win. Is that what you want?" Pitch didn't answer. "Darn right I'm right." He paused. "So, what do you saaaay-?"
There was a long pause. The fire behind Azar was starting to dissipate. After a few more seconds, Pitch turned slightly to the right and started to walk around Azar, examining him from head to toe.
"Who exactly are you?"
Azar looked at Pitch over his shoulder. "I am Pyralis, Creator of fire, Provider of light, Maker of passionate heat, and Master of roasting stone gargoyles, to name a few." Azar paused to chuckle. "Heh, that last one was a joke."
"As I am well aware…" Pitch uttered, chancing a sidelong look at Azar from the corner of his slitted eye. He stopped a few feet away to Azar's right, his hands behind his back. "It seems to me that you have the makings of a Guardian. So why, is it, that you saved me?" Azar didn't answer. Pitch snorted, looking straight ahead. "What do you want with me, Pyralis?"
Azar turned to face him. "I prefer Azar. As for what I want, well…I have a proposition."
Piqued with interest, Pitch turned to him, his arms returning to his sides. "Go on…"
Looking slightly to the right, Azar lifted his hand and formed fire in it. "Did you know, that fire can reflect the events to come? If you look close enough-" Azar brought his other hand around the growing flame and lifted it up to stare with pale yellow eyes. "-You might just see a…ah, flicker." Holding his hands out, the fire sparked heavily, sending up a clear image of Pitch lying in a hole, his life flickering out like a dying ember from his eyes. The real Pitch's eyes slowly widened as he saw Azar appear by fire!Pitch's side and reaching down for him. As soon as it came, the sparks dissipated and Azar brought his hands back in. Closing them, the fire was snuffed out completely, smoke wisping out from the cracks and spaces of his fingers and palms. When they also vanished, Azar lowered his hands, staring calmly at Pitch. "One day, you will die, Pitch. I do not know when, I do not know how, but you will. All I do know is this." Azar was suddenly in front of Pitch, making him jump in surprise. The young man's eyes were narrowed. "Before your last dying breath, I will come to you and I will save you. And when that day comes, you will owe me."
There was silence. Pitch didn't understand it, but he felt…fear. Those penetrating, yellow eyes were dangerous, almost demonic, just below the surface. Azar seemed to be more than meets the eye and it caused worry in Pitch. What favor would he owe this still very mysterious young man?
Something suddenly flickered over Azar's eyes. Unable to hold back any longer, Pitch said, "I understand." He barely bowed his head forward before turning away, finally glad to be away from those eyes. Azar watched him start to walk away. "Until we meet again, Pyralis."
Soon, Pitch was out of earshot as he almost blended in with the darkness. Azar stared after him, his eyes narrowed. "I am looking forward to it, my naive little friend…" Turning around, Azar headed down the steps away from the cathedral, the fire snuffing out completely. It didn't take long for him to be deep in the city. A minute later, the clouds began to shift and a bright light began to pour from the heavens. It crossed Azar's path within seconds, making him stop. A voice, just a simple whisper on the wind, spoke to him. He listened closely for a few seconds before he smirked. Turning slightly to the right, Azar looked up at the full moon, whose bright light illuminated where he stood. He snorted in amusement at the Man in the Moon's warning. "One day, you pathetic old fool, you will rue the day you denied what was rightfully mine. Then I will become the greatest Guardian who ever lived!" Looking ahead, Azar started to walk away, chuckling behind a dark grin. "And not even your precious Jack Frost will be able to stop me."
Silence. Nothing stirred. Slowly, the clouds moved back across the moon, shrouding the city into darkness once more.
