I got bored. Had time to kill— but I'm not posting anything for Because of Her for a while, because I want to have a lot done for you guys when I do post. So... onto my new obsession for now— Rise of the Guardians!
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Somewhere along the way— they stopped believing. The wave of children who once believed— those children had children of their own. And those children had children. And somewhere along the way, the magic was lost. The belief was slowly fading. And somewhere along the way— fear was reborn...
Her grandfather was a loon.
He had to be.
Here he was fascinating her younger cousin with stories of snow days and egg hunts and warding off nightmares and something about a man made of golden sand. Alice wasn't even sure anymore, she had resided into the comfort of her book halfway through his story. All this talk of a Russian Santa and the six-foot tall Easter Bunny and Jack Frost of all things was ridiculous.
When her grandfather got to the part about horses made of black sand and bunnies made of snow—Alice left the realism of her novel and turned to him. "Grandpa Jamie," she whined, "Jack Frost is just an expression." Thomas seemed horrified—pressing his finger against his lips and making a shhh sound—which of course warbled and whistled through the gap of his recently lost front tooth. "Don't thay that!" he pouted, "Jack Frotht might not bring winter if you don't believe!" Alice placed her hands up and retreated back to her book, as Jamie just smiled warmly, "He'll always bring winter, Thomas, don't worry."
Deep down, however, Jamie himself was worried. Now that he had turned 95 years old not too far back, and had hair as white as Jack Frost, he worried for the Guardians, as he was slowly realizing that the newer generation wasn't very strong on believing. He and his friends—some of which who had already passed of old age—all had met more than a few kids with the same reactions as Alice. The Tooth Fairy is a myth. There's no such thing as Santa. The Easter Bunny is nothing but a hoax. The Sandman isn't real.
Jack Frost is just an expression!
Yes, deep down Jamie feared for his immortal friends—but after 87 years, he was sure nothing truly bad would happen. As long as at least one person believed, they would be okay. That he knew for a fact.
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Crippled would be the right term. Or maybe devastated? Or, perhaps there was no possible word to describe the heavy feeling in Jack's chest when he realized just how close to the end Jamie was. It had been a blast—the snowball fights and sledding and skating and snowman contests and building igloos—and now his first believer was at the end of the rope. It destroyed Jack inside—watching Jamie travel with a cane— and his hair! It was as white as his own! The Winter Spirit didn't want to imagine Jamie being gone.
Even when Jamie became too old to play with him in the snow—the believer urged his children to enjoy the snow day in his stead. Jack journeyed into the memories for a moment—and he had to admit, when Jamie became a father of two sons and a daughter, the frostbite nearly had a conniption. It was shocking and amazing and frightening and beautiful at the same time—Jack felt the pride an older brother would. Then he had grandchildren as well. His daughter adopted a boy named Thomas and the older son married a woman with gingery hair—like the color of a carrot. No surprise when his granddaughter took after those same carrot-colored locks.
Jack couldn't help but smile in spite of himself—Jamie would be gone soon, but that still didn't stop Jack from having wonderful moments with him in the past. Jamie gave him a purpose—and Jack wouldn't let that go even if Jamie wasn't there.
Speaking of Jamie…
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"But she ith real! She hath to be!" Thomas whined. He wouldn't let it go—Alice didn't believe in Jack Frost, or Santa, and she had mumbled something about the Tooth Fairy being a lie! Thomas knew for a fact the tooth fairy was real! He got a quarter for each one of his baby teeth, just like he would get one tonight!
"She's not. None of them are."
Alice tied off her loose ginger tresses back into the braid they had so sloppily come out of. She was tucking Thomas into bed, and he would not stop insisting these so called Guardians of Children were real.
Alice hadn't believed in them for a while—and being that she was 15 she wasn't going to start believing now.
"Yeth they are!"
"Tommy," she groaned, "Just put the stupid tooth under your pillow, please." Realizing the bitterness she expressed, Alice quickly said something different, "If you don't hurry up, I can't read you a bedtime story."
That got the 6 year old boy to jam his baby tooth into the pillowcase and lay down. He loved the bedtime stories—they prompted good ideas for his dreams. The dreams he knew the Sandman had to be behind.
"What book would you like?"
Thomas smiled softly, "Frothtbite."
Alice let out a moan of frustration, but nevertheless grabbed the book from the shelf. She briefly inspected the cover, her eyes scanning across the name of the author— being someone named Jackson Overland Frost and she cringed. Fitting alias, she assumed. It wasn't until she gave the book attention that she realized it was long. "Thomas," she mumbled, "This is at least 30 chapters…"
"Pleathe?"
Alice sighed, and with that she began to read…
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Jack waved through Jamie's window, the elderly man quickly smiled and nodded—a signal the frostbite had recognized for when Jamie wanted him in but didn't want to get up. Jack pried the window open, and slipped through into the house.
"Hey, kiddo," Jack grinned. Jamie beamed, "How've you been, Jack?" The Winter Sprite just shrugged, "Preparing for winter, considering giving the kids a couple extra snow days… what do you think?"
"Does that mean I can assure Thomas that winter will come?" Jamie gave Jack a soft smile, his eyes tired. Jack tried to ignore the paleness in his old friend's face as he chuckled, "Yeah. Why was he even worried? Jack Frost always comes through."
"Because…," Jamie's eyes shifted, "… Alice said you were just an expression."
Jack winced playfully, "Ouch." Okay, so maybe not as playfully as he wanted. It hurt—knowing that Jamie's own grandchild thought of him as a myth. Well, one of Jamie's grandchildren. And regardless there were plenty of other children who believed, so he didn't fear of being forgotten.
"It's alright though," Jamie tried to sound happy, "She went and tucked Thomas in and she's going to read him a story—no doubt he'll choose yours."
"That old thing?" Jack laughed, "I almost forgot!"
Of course he hadn't actually forgot. It was when Jamie was in high school that he wrote a short essay on his experiences with Jack Frost—and when the teacher approved his vivid imagination, Jamie asked Jack if he could write a novel based on his life. Jack didn't exactly mind—the book would be proof that the Guardians were real, although he was almost shocked when Jamie put Jackson Overland Frost as the author's name. He remembered hugging Jamie and bursting out in happy tears and all the other joy that followed.
"Thomas has been wanting to read it for a while," Jamie grinned, "I think he really adores you. The other Guardians too—he's been fussing over trying to catch the Tooth Fairy all day."
"Little one lost a tooth?"
Jamie nodded, and Jack just laughed, "I'll have to tell Tooth to make this a personal visit, then."
The frostbite smiled, before heading back for the window. "Hey, Jamie…," he whispered. The man looked at him, "Yeah?"
"You're an amazing friend, you know that?"
Jamie just smiled weakly—he knew what was on the Guardian's mind but he wasn't sure how to ease it, "Same for you, Jack…"
The Guardian smiled before taking off in the night.
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He felt weak.
Alert, but weak.
The darkness swiveled around him as if pestering him to get up—yet he wouldn't. He needed to bide his time, not waste energy on petty thing like getting up.
Not yet, anyway.
It had been 87 years, and Pitch was still waiting. He needed to wait for the right time to strike—wait for his perfect opportunity. Soon, but not yet.
His yellow irises scanned the room—and he continued to wait.
When he was free—when he was at his full potential and when no one suspected his arrival, he assured himself he had one task that was most important. One task that he needed the elements of strength and surprise to be at its max.
One task…
Kill that damned frostbite.