As time went by, I watched my little sister grow up from a girl into a woman. I constantly visited her, and she always said hello to me no matter how many strange looks she got from everyone else. When she had children of her own, she would lull them to sleep every night with a song she made up about their uncle Jack Frost nipping at their noses.
She would always tell them I was the one who made it snow in the winter, and they believed her… for a while. I would play with them, having snowball fights and building forts and snowmen, but as they got older they started to ignore me. My sister asked them about it, and they said, "We're too old to believe in that stuff anymore, Mom. Imaginary friends are for little kids." No matter how she tried to convince them I was real, they never saw me again after that.
They eventually had children themselves, and even though they didn't believe in me anymore, they still told their kids about me, singing my sister's song at night and encouraging them to play with me until they were grown up too.
This went on for generation after generation, and eventually I got used to the constant cycle of ups and downs, the fluctuations I could feel deep down in my soul; a crushing sense of loss every time a child got too old for their imaginary friend, a delightful burst of elation when one reached the age of understanding at which they could rationalize the significance of what believing in something means.
For a while I thought I would never leave my hometown of Burgess, but after my sister died the grief was too much. I left the place I'd always known in order to travel the world seeking solace.
The children who believed in me at the time begged me not to go, but I promised them I'd be back again someday. True to my word, I returned every year, but only for the colder months: from late fall to early spring. I didn't stay the whole time through, however; I had learned that I could command the wind, so I rode the gusts and breezes high into the sky in order to travel long distances quickly.
And so, with the wind at my back and my staff in hand, I roamed the earth for countless years, playing tricks wherever I went, hoping that by keeping a smile on my face I would be keeping the sadness at bay as well. Gradually the pain dulled until it only hurt when I stopped having fun; I held on tight to the good times and pushed the bad ones to the back of my mind.
A/N: NorthernMage, thank you as always for your review, and since you didn't want me to get rid of the angst? Here's a double dose of it just for you.
Thanks also to Natalia Faye, dragonfox123, LunarCatNinja, Puella Pulchra, and Xiaberri for your reviews, and rest assured there is more to come! Sorry this one is so incredibly short, but it is just an interlude.
