Hello, readers! I just saw Rise of the Guardians. Though I wasn't a fan of the story itself, I loved the visuals and the idea. So here's a short little story about Jack's counterpart, the summer spirit. I know this has been done before but this is my take on it and is not planned as anything more than a one shot. Please enjoy! Sincerely, madlibs44.
"Witch! Burn the witch!"
I push through the crowd frantically, trying desperately to reach the front. All around me, people scream for death and wave their pitchforks and torches. My dress gets caught underfoot and I stumble. I impatiently try to shove the large man standing on the hem but he is unconcerned with anything but the riot. Finally, I simply yank my dress free, tearing off a good chunk towards the bottom. My ankle is scandalously bare but I could care less.
"Matilda Merryweather, do you confess to being a witch?" the priest asks, looking at my sister accusingly. He clutches at the Bible in his hand as if he were afraid the Devil himself would come to tear it from his hands.
I am terrified for my little sister. She's done nothing wrong. She is simply the victim of an innocent coincidence but these people will not listen no matter how much she, or I, pleads. I know I only have one option left if I am to spare her from this fate. I can only hope that she will forgive me. I finally break through the last of the crowd. My sister, only twelve, can barely stand for fear where she is tied to the podium. Poor Til is crying and doesn't answer the priest.
"I shall take your silence as confirmation of your heretical sorcery," the priest declares darkly. He turns towards the crowd. "For your crimes, you will be burned at the stake!"
The crowd roars and I can't hear my own screams of protest. I push my way up onto the stage, moving to stand between my sister and her executioners. I silently send a prayer to the God above - one that would never condone this savagery - before giving myself for my sister.
"I am the witch!" I scream. I ignore my sister's sobbing protests. "I bewitched my sister and I confess to any sorcery she may have seemingly committed."
The crowd, full of people who were once our friends and neighbors, murmurs quietly in confusion. The priest looks at me critically. "How can we be sure that you aren't just shielding your witch of a sister? That in itself is a crime against God."
I grimace. I hadn't thought of this. My mind races wildly, trying to think of a way to convince the populace that I am the witch, not my sister. I feel a warm draft of summer air hit my bare ankle and smile grimly.
"How is this for a crime against God?"
With that said, I hike up my skirt and reveal more leg than anyone but my husband should see. The crowd shrieks in rage and I am roughly grabbed by one of the guards. The priest is shouting angrily at me but I can't hear him. I can only see and hear my sister, who is screaming for me as some of the village women drag her away to 'safety'. I can only smile and say one thing to her.
"I'm sorry."
I feel the wood pole between my shoulder blades and the rough rope binding my body to said pole. All around me the people are chanting for my burning death. I see them light the wood beneath my feet, feel the immense heat biting at my skin. But I don't pay any attention. My thoughts are with Til.
500 years later…
I walk along the street and the pavement steams up behind me. But my bare feet do not burn.
Springtime is slowly climbing into the northern hemisphere as I bring the heat. Currently, I'm working up the east coast of the United States, pushing the wintery weather further north. For five hundred years I have been doing this: travelling back and forth between the hemispheres to help create the seasons. But the last three hundred years have certainly been more irksome than the first two hundred years.
Particularly due to a certain mischievous winter spirit.
I stop and glower at the offending pile of the snow on the street corner until it melts.
"Awe but I worked so hard on those!"
I turn only to receive a snowball to the face. My legendary temper is quickly rising and I grit my teeth as I wipe the snow from my outfit. Similar to the other spirits, I chose to change my attire with the times. Perhaps it was our lingering humanity that caused us to latch onto these strange human habits. As I was a summer spirit, I reveled in the heat. My fiery red T-shirt and my jean shorts – all singed around the edges – complimented my wild flaming red hair.
My coal black eyes glower at Jack Frost, who leans casually on his precious staff. As I had been several times before, I am again tempted to turn the damned staff to ash.
"You should be further north, Jack."
"But I like it here."
"It's not supposed to snow here in May."
"But the kids are having fun! They like snow days!"
I roll my eyes. We are both keeping our distance: I don't like the cold, he doesn't like the hot. I wave a hand at him dismissively. "You're a Guardian now; go play with North or something."
Jack frowns and idly draws a pattern of frost on the ground. Despite my discomfort, I step over to him, intending to melt his ice. But our opposing temperatures simply battle it out: snow drifts down from the sky but turns to boiling water on the pavement. The winter spirit's ice blue eyes pierce into my black ones. "But they can see me here, Sarah."
"Good for you, Frost," I say sarcastically. I had often wished to be seen as well. But as I had retained my memories from my human life and hadn't caused trouble with the other spirits, I hadn't been as lonely or lost as Jack had. My focus turns to another nearby snow bank. It melts swiftly under my gaze.
Suddenly, Jack grabs my hand and I gasp, expecting pain. But none comes and we both look curiously down at our hands. It's odd that we can't stand being near each other due to the temperature discomfort but touching was actually… pleasant. Apparently leaving the matter for another time, Jack smiles at me eagerly.
"Let me introduce you to some of my friends!"
To my surprise, I don't protest as he pulls me along. The wind, which works for both of us, carries us to the other side of town. We drop down in front of a rather normal house. Except for the enormous piles of snow that the kids are using to wage an all-out snowball war. But they stop when Jack approaches, running to him excitedly.
"Jack! Come play with us!"
The winter spirit kneels down to talk to them, joining the kids in their excitement. I find myself envious. As he plays with children during the winter months, I enjoy playing with them during the summer. I heat the lakes so that they can swim comfortably. I bring the warm summer breezes that fly there kites. I even keep them warm when they stay out late at night to watch the stars.
I am pulled out of my reverie as Jack takes my hand again. "I would like you guys to meet a friend of mine. She's the one who plays with you in the summer."
"Another Guardian?" a boy asks eagerly. He's looking around for me, but his gaze goes right through me. "Where is she?"
"She's right here but you have to believe she's here," Jack urges and I find myself surprised by his eagerness to have me believed in. "Think of everything you love about summer."
I give Jack a sideways glance. I can see his obvious dislike at the idea of summer but the kids don't. He looks back at me with a grin.
"Well, why don't you introduce yourself?"
A sigh escapes my lips. I honestly don't believe that this will work. But I look back at the kids. They are looking in my direction, at least, in response to Jack's attention to my particular section of air. I shift back and forth on my feet anxiously. As I bring my right foot down, a hiss of steam reaches my ears. I look down to find that Jack has conjured snow beneath my feet. The kids squeal in delight. I look back at the winter spirit with my mouth agape, unable to disguise the hope now etched in my face. With a slight squeeze of his hand, I turn back to the kids.
"My name is Sarah Cinders."
And there you go. Please review!
