Red Glass: ROTG
(prologue)
Rose was a fairly patient woman when it came to the Guardians. It was well known that she regarded each of them as a friend and that she respected them equally. Truth be told, she was fairly well liked back. Any cookie she made got rave reviews from North, she could understand Sandy perfectly, and Tooth always enjoyed hearing new tips on dental hygiene. The woman even had Bunny wrapped around her finger, giving him fresh vegetables almost all year round. Yes, Rose found being around the Big Four very pleasant.
The same feelings could also be applied to Pitch Black. In fact, it could be said that she enjoyed Pitch's company more. They had met up once, when a fear of life had become strong enough for both of them to take interest. The two had talked for hours about the ridiculous things they had seen children do (Pitch usually speaking of his victims waking up, while Rose talked about what children would do in her forests).
Pitch had never once during the conversation been outwardly unpleasant toward her. In fact he had been fairly pleasant, with his almost (but not quite) gentlemanly behavior and sarcastic remarks. He had made her laugh. It never occurred to Rose that the spirit might be unsatisfied with the way he was living, but maybe it was that she had just caught him at a good time.
It had never even been a passing thought, until attacks on the Guardians started happening. Attacks involving black sand and Nightmares. Attacks involving Pitch Black. What could have happened, since she last saw him? Since that day when Pitch's fear saved a young woman's life. Since the two spirits had a drink together, Rose with green tea and Pitch with his mug of black coffee. Since that laugh.
How long had it been?
She watched the battles closely from then on. For the most part she watched Pitch. There was something not quite right. He invested so much time into talking with the snow sprite that had become the new Guardian. But he always looked so... defeated once the conversation was over. No it wasn't defeated, that wasn't right. It was a combination of anger and sadness and...loneliness that flashed across his face all at once before settling.
….
She continued to watch. She couldn't have picked a side, not only due to her love of both parties, but due to her very nature. Life cannot choose between light or dark. It can only hold them for a time.
A dark shadow had flashed by her in a blur of speed during one of the battles. The Nightmare smelled the surprise that came off her and whinnied in delight. Wheeling back to taste more, the creature charged her. Then suddenly, there was white fire surrounding it. The horse screamed in pain as its sandy hide began to melt and shift. The fire soon stopped and something new stood where the Nightmare had once been. That was when Rose smiled.
Pitch sat before the Guardians, despair pouring off him in waves. How could this have happened? He'd had them... He had won!
"Leaving the party so soon? " North said mockingly.
"You didn't even say goodbye." Tooth said tossing something to the nightmare king, which he catches. He looked at the small circle of metal in his hand.
"A quarter?" He looked up just as Tooth's fist connected with his mouth. A single tooth skittered across the ice of the frozen pond. Gasping in pain, Pitch worked his jaw back and forth.
"And that's for my fairies," Tooth let out, shaking out her hurt fist.
Pitch scowled. "You can't get rid of me! Not forever! There will always be fear!"
North waved his hand in an 'don't bother' gesture, "So what? As long as one child believes, we will be here to fight fear."
"Oh really?" Pitch grinned, "Then what are they doing here?"
Hundreds of Nightmare surrounded the Big Four (or was it Five now), but no one in the small band looked too concerned. North smiled lightly, "They can't be my Nightmares, I'm not afraid." Pitch's grin slowly slid from his face, and was quickly replaced with horror.
Unlike the Guardian of Wonder, Jack Frost's smile was practically feral.
"Looks like it's your fear they smell."
Pitch's eyes suddenly rounded in terror, the Nightmares moving in around him. He tried backing away but the Nightmares had already started to pick up speed, barreling toward him. "Ahh, no...AHHHHHHH!" He tried to run but the slick icy surface of the pond was too much and the Nightmare King stumbled in his attempt to flee. The black sand steeds saw their chance. Sweeping Pitch up into the stampede, tendrils of sand lashed and wrapped around him dragging him into the surrounding forest.
"No, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Scrabbling at the dirt, the spirit of fear was dragged feet first into the entrance of his lair. Fingers deep in the soil, his torso quickly disappeared into the hole. He looked up at the moon.
'Please...not again...!'
Suddenly, a flash of red rushed by, slamming through the Nightmares one after another. Black sand showered down around Pitch, obscuring his view of whatever was helping him. Could it be North taking pity on him? Highly unlikely. Still slipping down into the hole, the Nightmare King raked the dirt, trying to get a hold on something. Only one hand was keeping him from falling into the pit.
That hand soon felt the edge of the hole.
Then, nothing but air.
Eyes widening Pitch fell, clawing the air like there was some way to get back up to the surface.
Then a slim hand snagged his wrist. The red thing rushed past him again in a blur of color, down the shaft. Knocking away the coiled shadows, it pushed him up while the hand pulled. He clung to the offered appendage with both his hands desperately.
Finally his whole body made it over the lip of the pit. Gasping, his whole body shaking, he curled into a ball. He'd been so close to being dragged back into the dark. To being forgotten and trapped. So close...
He whimpered in terror. Then he was wrapped in something warm and alive. A hand stroked his head and arms held him close to a fluttering heart. Warm, sweet words were cooed into his ear and he curled into the warm body surrounding his prone form.
"Shhhh, you're ok now. It's alright, it's alright, you're fine," the female voice whispered softly, comfortingly. Where had he heard that voice? He was too afraid to think, to see, to do anything.
"He's in shock."
'Hm so that's what they call it...' thought the dark spirit.
"We can't move him like this. Carnelian, come here a minute. Good boy, come on. There you go." He was cold for a moment and the terror struck him again. Was he going to be left here alone?
Suddenly the warmth was back, but over his whole body, not just his upper torso. Pitch relaxed some and his head was lifted onto something soft and warm. Something began to crackle and smoke spreading more of the lovely heat down his form. Peeking through hooded eyes, he tried to identify who had save him. He glance around the small glen, when his eyes fell on a intimidating sight. An impressive thoroughbred stallion stood to one side, clearly looking for more nightmares to stamp. It stood 17 hands tall, at least, and plumes of black smoke puffed out of it's nostrils. But what was most impressive about the creature wasn't it's size, but what is was made of. The stallion was made of solid, blood red glass. Living glass! The stallion looked at Pitch and let out a fiery snort.
"I made him," the female voice whispered softly. "His name's Carnelian." The horse wickered quietly. "You should sleep, you've been through alot," the voice said. Pitch turned his head and tried to really look at the woman's face. A curtain of red hair lit by the moonlight was all he could make out.
The woman stroked his hair soothingly, "It's alright, I won't leave." And slowly Pitch started to nod off, until he could only catch a bit of what the woman said next.
"...Amazing how when you heat black sand enough, it'll become red glass..."
