The Boy in the Tower
by Sirenfox
In Which a Tower is Found
Aster, 300 Years Later
Spring was in the air. The scent of new green life drifted into the cool early morning breeze vying for attention against the crisp scent of a light snow.
It was all so perfect; just the kind of morning Easter was made for! But it was early, and the ankle biters were still tucked in their beds, sound asleep, unaware of the lone pooka working hard to give them the most perfect holiday he could.
Aster's tunnel broke the surface and he poked his head out, cautiously scanning the area for any wily children thinking they could sneak a peek at the Easter Bunny.
What he found came as a surprise, and he hopped out of his tunnel, landing lightly on a patch of grass so dark it was almost black.
The area he found himself in was odd almost misshapen with the shadows clinging to the decrepit walls and dripping from archways. It was as if he was looking through a fun-house mirror everything once normal distorted in grotesque ways. It was because of this strange veil of unease that clung to the buildings that he didn't realize where he was right away. It was with dawning realization, and no small amount of horror, that Aster's eyes roamed over the ruins, his mind automatically filling in gaps, rebuilding crumbling walls and draping the whole thing in brilliant red and gold tapestries.
He knew this place. He'd spent a good amount of time walking these halls when the building was new, when it was still filled with life and people milled about as they worked. He'd known this castle when it still sat in the middle of a bustling city and went by the name of Camelot.
This looked almost nothing like the once great kingdom he'd helped build. But his heart knew it, his soul crying out in recognition. Memories danced before his mind, drawing him back to when the kingdom was still at it's peak, when Arthur sat on the throne, peace and prosperity ruled alongside him.
That peace hadn't lasted. Camelot fell when Arthur died, and Aster thought Avalon had claimed the mighty structure and it was simply lost to time.
This was certainly not Avalon. Although the entire valley it rested in reeked of magic the pooka didn't recognize the location at all. He took a cautious step forward, his ears flat against his skull and his nose twitching.
Pitch. The stench of the Nightmare King hung heavy in the air blocking out any other scents that might otherwise have revealed any further secrets. It was strong enough to raise Aster's hackles, he knew Pitch had to be up to something; what he had no idea and he could only hope it wasn't a pressing matter he didn't have time to deal with it right that minute.
Easter couldn't wait. It wasn't something he could really push off and deal with later. He still had googies to hide and hunts to supervise (the googies always got a bit excited and were prone to wandering if not watched). He wasn't sure what had drawn him here, to this small dale, but he promised himself that he would return as soon as he was able to investigate further.
With one last look at the single remaining intact tower , Aster tapped his paw against the dark ground and disappeared into his tunnel, leaving behind a single bright yellow flower to brighten up the gloom.
***Frostbunny***
Jack lay on his bed late into the day, staring up at the ceiling in complete boredom. He'd woken up ridiculously early, but couldn't bring himself to climb out of bed. Yet the longer he lay there, the worse his boredom became until he started to twitch.
The boy rolled off the edge of his bed, pulling himself to his feet he stretched his back in a long satisfying line before snatching his staff up from where it was leaning against the wall. Then the boy slowly trudged his way out of his room and towards the door leading to the outside. Jack's room was located at the very top of the tower, a small balcony connecting it to the long steep staircase curling around the outside of the tower. It wasn't much of a balcony, the stone floor ending after just a couple feet. Naturally, Jack had expanded the space outwards with a thick slab of ice until he was happy with the width, he'd done much the same with the stairs, his father commanding them be iced over to prevent easy access to the tower.
Jack never really used the stairs anyway; the boy stepped up to the edge of the balcony, the wind gently buffeted against him in greeting. Grinning, Jack leaned forwards into the wind, trusting it to hold his weight. It stayed steady, easily supporting Jack's feather light frame. He hung there, suspended for a good thirty seconds before Wind grew bored of this game and dropped him like a sack of rocks.
Jack laughed as he plummeted towards the rocky ground. The wind raced down beside him, teasing his hair and wrapping his sheer white shirt around his thin torso in a playful caress. Jack had a brief thought for his cloak still hung on the shelf by the door, but he didn't really need it so it remained in it's place inside the tower.
The two danced, spinning faster and faster in their dive, Jack loved every adrenaline filled moment of it. As the ground loomed dangerously close the wind curled into the boy's stomach, curving upwards and guiding the boy into a quick loop before dropping him daintily onto his feet.
Jack landed lightly; the boy started walking swinging his staff in front of him carelessly, grazing the dark grass and leaving a fine layer of frost clinging to each blade. He didn't stay still for long, heading into the maze of ruins to have a bit of fun…that stuffy old tower could get so boring.
Every step his took, frost spider-webbed out in all directions. But it never lingered very long, melting way in the muggy atmosphere.
It was always like that and Jack had to constantly monitor any ice he used, like his balcony, to make sure it didn't melt on him. Frost was easy to make, but ice took time and energy to restore. Because of this, he liked to replace his ice as seldom as possible, once a week was ideal.
Jack wandered through the ruins slowly. He knew every brick and stone by heart, which was not very surprising considering he'd been exploring it since his father brought him home all those years ago. He assumed it had all been familiar to him before, this was where he'd grown up after all. But even now Jack couldn't remember anything before waking up in the lake. It wasn't like he hadn't tried. He'd spent years agonizing over it, trying to force the memories back.
But nothing ever worked, his mind remained as blank as the day he'd risen from the water. He wasn't even sure why he had been at the lake in the first place, his best guess was the Big Four had kidnapped him and tried to drown him. But he didn't remember, so he couldn't be certain. It was the only thing that made sense, though.
Father refused to talk about it, he'd grow cold and leave shortly after the topic was brought up. Jack figured it was hard to remember, coming home and finding his son missing. He never wanted to put his father though something like that again, it obviously tortured him even now.
So Jack resigned himself to life within the tower. He knew he should stay up in his room where it was safe and he knew if father ever found out he even came down here to play in the ruins he would be in trouble, but it was just so boring up there. He had to do something to keep from going mad.
Jack knew the ruins so well, in fact, that he quickly became bored again. He still had a couple of hours before night fell, so he decided to start up a little game. He gathered little balls of snow in his hands and started hurling them at anything that moved. It took a lot of imagination since he was the only living being in the whole clearing.
But if the centuries more or less spent by himself had given him anything, it was an excellent imagination. A little bit of magic was all it took, he quickly frosted over the walls and floors until everything gleamed with an ethereal blue glow. Then he gently coaxed that frost into shapes, pulling them off the walls and up out of the ground, they stood in front of him looking much like fairy creatures in the darkness.
The empty halls of the ancient castle quickly filled with fantastical monsters intent on laying siege to his Kingdom. They lurked around every corner, hunting the young man as he stalked the already damaged corridors of his home. Since his father, the King, was visiting a neighboring land it fell to Jack, the crown Prince, to defend his home.
A movement in one of the rooms caught the boy's attention and he quickly spun away, ducking behind a crumbling wall to keep out of sight. He steadied himself, his heart racing with the thought of what monster may be waiting for him in that room. Taking a deep breath the boy dove around the corner, letting loose a volley of pure white snow-bombs loose at the enemy. The bombs exploded upon impact with the creatures, turning the deadly foes into a handful of white glittery powder.
Miraculously, three of the monsters lurking showy corners of the room managed to dodge away from Jack's attack. Jack barely had time to see their long white bodies shimmering with magic in the darkness before they lunged at him.
Jack dropped into a roll, easily sliding between his opponents. He came up behind them, brandishing two more snow-bombs. He turned, launching them back at the beasts before they even realized he had disappeared. Everything exploded in a cloud of white glitter, but they weren't always so easily felled and so Jack blasted them with a ray of frost as well, just to be sure.
Yet even with this group felled the battle was far from over. Jack could hear the sounds of fighting further down the hall. The young prince dusted off his tunic and quickly scanned the room to make sure it was well and truly cleared before headed back out into the fray.
He followed the sound of fighting down the hall towards the staircase leading up to the next floor. Mounting the stairs quickly Jack ducked into the nearest room. He froze in the threshold, staring in shock at the monster lurking inside. It looked to be seven feet tall with long white horns curving back away from his sharp face and his glowing green eyes. The creature was grinning at him with long ivory fangs dripping with venom.
Aster. The Hoarder of Hope.
A black hole gaped sinisterly behind the demon, an opening for the others to follow behind. Jack swallowed nervously, he had to find a way to close that portal.
The young prince pulled his staff in front of him defensively as he tried to think fast.
"Alone at last." The creature rasped in a voice that sounded like death itself, "Daddy isn't here to save you and by the time he does find you it will be too late. You're mine now."
"Never!" Jack growled, lashing out with a barrage of icy daggers, the pooka leapt, agilely out of the way, sending his own attack at the prince.
Jack couldn't exactly see what it was he was throwing, that didn't stop him. Jack didn't even hesitate as he dove out of the way, rolling under the flying projectiles then leaping up at his attacker.
Aster snarled as they crashed together, grappling as they fought to maintain dominance. Jack thought, for a wonderful moment, that he was winning. But then the monster turned the tables on him, Aster gripped him tight around the middle and slammed him back into the wall. Only there was no wall behind him and Jack went flying out the window instead, dragging the pooka down with him.
The two grappled as they fell, both trying to gain the upper hand before their collision with the quickly approaching ground. Aster snarled, gnashing his dripping fangs at Jack's throat. Jack countered him by slamming his head up and head butting him right between his long curving horns. Aster didn't even flinch, but it was enough of a distraction to break the demons hold on the portal. Jack could feel it closing behind him the magic that had been holding it open fading away. The chill the portal had brought with it had been unnatural and with it gone Jack finally relaxed.
He smirked up at Aster, using the demon's distraction to pull himself way. Wind caught him easily, buoying him up carrying him safely out of the pooka's long reach. Jack watched with satisfaction as the creature landed with a loud thud. A thrill of pride curled inside his chest and he landed beside the felled pooka smugly, his chest puffed out as he looked down at the demon he had slain. Father would surly be impressed when he returned home. How could he not?
As Jack circled around his fallen enemy, something strange caught his eye.
He blinked in surprise, his made-up world vanishing to reveal the real world, in all it's drab paltriness.
What on earth was that? Jack had never seen anything like it before and couldn't stop himself from moving closer.
Right where his imaginary demon had landed was a bright yellow flower. It looked so strange sitting in the middle of the gloom he called home. But it was new, and different and Jack absolutely loved it.
He also knew his father would hate it; would destroy it the moment he saw it.
Jack just couldn't let that happen.
I wish I had thought to post this last week for Easter, but it completely spaced my mind. Oh well, we can pretend.
Also a quick note, I write with both the books and the movies as cannon and as so I take things, names places events, from both. In the books no one ever calls the Man in the Moon Manny, it's always Mim, that's his name in the books. I like it, and I'm sorry if it bothers anyone but I'm not changing it.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you in a couple weeks for the next one.
Review!
