The Man in the Moon was a very patient man. A very patient, powerful and immortal man.

But very long ago, before he was the Man in the Moon, he was just a man. A man who desperately wanted something.

Manny had always been alone, unwanted and unknowing of where he belonged. His existence was empty and lonely. And more than anything, it was love he desired.

Any kind of love would do, he would think to himself often, any love at all.

And one day, he met a woman.

This woman was unlike any other he had ever encountered. He was drawn to her, inexplicably, gravitationally.

She regarded him with curled lips, appraising him coldly and condescendingly. Yet still, she was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. Manny cared not what expression she wore, nothing could mar her profound perfection.

In that moment, he knew he would do anything for her.

Her name was Earth, Manny learned. He learned many things about her.

Earth was in love with the Sun. But Sun was a fiery ball of egomania and narcissism. Earth circled him each day, in hopes of catching his attention and yet she could not. And though Earth deeply loved Sun and could not resist him, she still desired a companion. Someone to circle her for a change, to worship and love her as she worshipped and loved Sun.

"Do you love me?" Earth asked Manny abruptly.

Perhaps if Manny knew a bit more about love, he would've chosen his words more carefully.

He declared, "With all my heart."

And so Manny became the Man in the Moon.

Each day, he circled Earth, lavishing her with his adoration and love. In the night, as the period of darkness where the Sun couldn't be bothered to shine for Earth became known, Manny had her all to himself. And for a time, the Man in the Moon was happy.

But soon, he realized that it is horrifically painful to love one who does not love you in return. The Man in the Moon only reflected the Sun's light, he was merely a stand-in for when Sun was not there. He was second choice, always.

Manny was lonelier and more empty than ever before. He cried many tears, and they splattered the black night with spots of radiant light. They hung there alongside him, glimmering and inescapable. Thus, Manny's only company was his own grief.

After an immeasurable amount of time and an endless number of circles, mortals began to wander the realm.

Manny was grateful for something besides his own eternal longing and lonesomeness, and grew fond of humankind, watching over them in fascination and delight.

However, Earth was jealous and hateful of anything that distracted her Moon from her glory, and so vowed to make life as miserable as possible for the mortals who dared to steal Manny's attention.

She rumbled fiercely and unleashed corrosive red fury that took all in its path, onslaughts of water that flooded and drowned, tumbling boulders to crush and squish. From the shadows she produced a terrible creature. The King of Nightmares as she called him; the very essence of fear and misery, and she unleashed him on the world.

Inexorable was her wrath, and so was the pain and death of mortals.

Manny ached for the loss, and yearned to protect the blameless mortals from this cruelty, as it began to corrupt their innocence and break their spirits. Alas, no matter how he shouted and pleaded, humans could not hear his warnings. He was powerless against Earth's fury.

Over time, Manny noticed a pattern. There were simply some mortals who possessed... Something special. Something that, somehow, cut through the gloom and despair, something that inspired joy and light in the darkness around them. Wherever they went, happiness seemed to follow and it was catching, infectious.

It was these mortals specifically that Earth killed.

She feared that they would dispel her perfect darkness.

Manny decided that these were exactly the kind of people who needed to be around forever, not ripped from the world so soon. These were the souls who could carry out his mission.

So, whenever such people were dying, barely inches from death, Manny bled some of his own immortality into their bodies.

"You were chosen," he would tell them softly. He could speak to them now. He had given them a piece of himself; they were linked to him and he to them.

"You were chosen to protect humankind from the dangers of the world. You are a Guardian."

After more time still, Manny noticed another pattern and had an epiphany.

Children were the most important creatures to exist.

If their pureness was touched by the evils of the world around them, without wonder, hope, dreams and memories to protect them, they grew bitter and became the evil by which they were corrupted. The cycle would continue if not stopped.

And so the Guardians protected children above all else. And the world finally began to come out of the dark.

And for a time the Man in the Moon was less empty, less lonesome. He served a purpose, other than to worship a petty, spiteful woman whom he loved despite all that he tried not to. He was, in the very loosest sense of the word, happy.

However, this is not the Man in the Moon's story. This is a story of friendship, of forbidden relations and the accidental intwining of two souls that would change fate irrevocably, forever.

And it begins like so:

Once upon a time, Jack Frost fell in love.