Pairing: N/A (Gen)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Adventure
Rating: K+ (depressing themes, no smut/direct cursing)
Word Count: 4,197
Chapter 2 - Part One: We Are Guardians
''They are now dead, they live no more; their spirits do not rise. You punished them and brought them to ruin; you wiped out all memory of them.''
''Oi, mate!'' Bunny shouted, and North looked away from the Globe at him. He gave a cheery laugh, and released the railing in favor of leaning against it, looking at the Easter Bunny.
''Yes, Bunny?'' he said, the smile plastered on his face unwavering. It was a rare occasion for the Guardian of Hope to drop by, to his home in summer. What with all the complaining about the snow and cold, North thought Bunny would only visit him if the world was in danger or if he was hosting a party and April Fools was invited. The Santa Clause supressed a chuckle - a few decades ago, Bunny had gotten so drunk, he stumbled into April and told her she bloomed more beautifuly than any other flower in his garden.
Needless to say, the Easter Bunny didn't come out of his Warren for a couple of years until the rumors subsided.
But Bunny looked dead serious now, and as he spoke, North noted a hint of worry in his voice. ''I was talking ta' a few spirits...''
''Which?'' North asked, slightly pushing himself away from the railing and standing still.
It was in the dead of night. There were no elves, nor yeti, nor toys flying about; not a single noise or sound echoed throughout the serenely empty Workshop. North himself had been ready to take a nap, but for some reason couldn't sleep. He might have been overthinking about Jack's question, and kept remembering the winter spirit's surprise when he found out that he was someone before he was chosen. The tone of his voice, the disbelief it held, kept North awake a few nights after the war they had with the Boogeyman. He figured it was guilt, but also that there was nothing he could do about it - until Jack himself decided he was ready to talk about his past.
''Some dark spirits,'' Bunny murmured, and the Guardian of Wonder couldn't help but to notice the disdain in which he said the word 'dark'. The spirit of hope looked up to him. ''They were talking 'bout Pitch.''
And just like that, the serenity in the room vanished, and gave way to eerie. The shadows seemed to prolong, as if the mere mentioning of the dark spirit made them bigger, scarier, more dangerous. The lights on the Globe seemed to flicker, as if personally remembering the self-proclaimed Nightmare King.
North merely sighed, and lowered his head, closing his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
''What did they talk about?'' he asked, lifting his gaze back up toward Bunny and crossing his tattoed arms over his chest. If Bunny was mentioning it, considering his hatred to Pitch, it must be important.
Bunny was silent for a moment, ears twitching ever so slightly. It took a few moments for him to respond, and when he did, the silence in the room was prepared for any sentence to sound dramatic after such a long pause.
''They think he's dead.''
North didn't react at first, and then his white eyebrows rose in confusion. ''Excuse me?''
Bunny sighed, getting down on all fours and hopping to the railing, where he got up and leaned against it and stared toward the Globe in worry. ''They say they haven't seen 'im in a few years. Ever since that hole closed. I went ta' check up on it, ta' make sure... It was still closed. I think the guy's dead.''
North let the information sink in, but the fact was laughable. Spirits did not die easily, and when they did, the reasons were great and very much 'possible'. Like Samhain, or that spirit of war, yet they died for good reasons, natural reasons. Spirits could die in a way that was almost natural, if destiny chose them to die. But getting killed? It was absurd.
''We don't know that, Bunny,'' North stated, gesturing with his right hand, then using it to smooth down his beard.
Bunny snorted. ''Dead or not, we have to make sure. If he ain't dead, we can easily avoid Baelana's interrogation. You know how that nosy spirit of balance gets. On another hand, if he is dead...''
''We need to meet Baelana and choose a replacement,'' North concluded, rubbing his forehead in annoyance, and groaning in protest.
''I don't understand!'' Bunny suddenly spat out, turning to North, his green eyes dark with anger, ''Why the bloody hell do we need ta' replace him!? The bloke is good for nothing-''
''Baelana had said,'' North started, silencing the Pooka with his serious expression, ''that his kind of spirit needs an instant replacement. And if she says so, I believe her.''
Bunny snorted louder, pointing a sharp nail at North. ''She is just messing with us. I'm telling you - she says whatever she wants, whenever she wants and no one questions her because of her origin.''
''Bunny,'' North warned, looking around. ''Be careful how you speak... And it doesn't matter if Pitch is replaced. This new spirit could actually be better... Perhaps we could be friends.''
Bunny's ears flattened against his head, and North knew Bunny's answer long before Bunny said it.
''Spirits of fear,'' Bunny started, lowering his arms to his sides where his hands were clenched into fists, ''are foul creatures. I will not stand ta' be in the presence of any spirit of Pitch's kind.''
''Bunny,'' North sighed out, almost in actual pain, ''What happened with Pitch was so long ago, you need-''
But Bunny had already tapped his foot against the ground, and swiftly disappeared, leaving North to finish his sentence alone.
''You need to forgive and forget.''
The silence in the Workshop was neutral, neither comfortable nor eerie. After a few moments, the clicking of North's boots echoed throughout it. But even that sound disappeared, and the silence reigned, as if in mourning.
''North! North!'' Jack bellowed as loud as he could, and all but shoved away the walking Yeti carrying toys.
He looked around, frantic to find the Russian as fast as he could. The letter in his hand was crinkled, and Jack held onto it so tightly that if it were ordinary paper, it would no longer be readable. He peered over the railing, gazing down into lower levels. Santa wasn't in his office, and that left Jack, who knew little to nothing about the Workshop's interior despite wandering around it for three years, to look anywhere he could and hope the Guardian of Wonder simply popped into view.
''Damn it,'' he hissed, and leaned away, running a frustrated hand with the letter through his hair. He looked at it again, for the hundrendth time that morning, but alas, the letter didn't change and the golden letters on it were still the way they were.
To Guardians
Below the golden letter that was written in one of the neatest handwriting he had seen in three centuries, was a scale. The small picture of the scale was golden and no bigger than his index finger; on its right side was a star and on the other was the moon, both in silver color standing above the golden plates, hovering and not touching them. He shivered. The letter itself was cold, but a cold he was not familar with, and no matter how much he held onto it, the cold oozed from every inch of it.
A terrible creature had chased him because of it.
It had been winged and mottled with the color of silver, golden and scarlet red. It had looked like it flew through massacre on its way to him, and it had startled him to his very bones when it screeched next to his ear while he was carelessly flying. He had tried to run from it out of pure instinct.
That had turned out to be a very bad idea - the creature had screeched again, the massive bird having rows of black needle-like teeth in its silver beak. It had flapped its mighty wings and caught up to him like he wasn't flying as fast as he could. It had grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and dived; more like plunged to the ground too fast for Jack to react properly. And then it had stopped a mere inch from the ground, and released Jack from its silver claws. He had flopped onto the ground like a ragdoll, and gasped, turning over on his back and staring in disbelief at the bird.
And then, as if to purposefully startle Jack worse, it opened its beak and spoke.
''Jack Frost, the winter spirit and the Guardian of Fun,'' it had addressed him, its beak barely moving, its voice surprisingly humanly female and deep. It had then flapped its silver and golden wings, matted with scarlet red that looked like blood. A single letter had fallen out of the feathers, and the bird had all but growled lowly, ''Take it to the Guardians. Baelana sends her greetings.''
The bird had left without any further explanation.
A yeti came up to Jack, grumbling nonsense into the spirit's ear. Jack jumped, feeling uneasy that at any moment the bird would return, and snap him in halves in its long beak. Jack stood and stared at the yeti, Phil as Jack recalled. The furry creature waved its hands around, mumbling and growling.
It only took Jack a few seconds to understand what the grey yeti was saying. North was with the reindeer in the barn, according to where Phil was pointing and what he was trying to portray with his hands.
''Thanks, Phil!'' he exclaimed and flew past him, making the yeti stumble a bit, and then shake his head at the fast winter sprite.
It took him less than half a minute to arrive at the barn, and see North patting the neck of a completely white reindeer. The frost sprite breathed out in a much needed relief, doubling over and breathing heavily, but not taking his eyes off North. The Russian turned to Jack in surprise.
''Jack, es something wrong?'' North asked, the white reindeer huffing out in annoyance that North stopped its patting.
Jack straightened, and walked over to North. His hand shot up not of his own accord, and the letter just stood between them for a few moments. Jack wanted to get rid of the letter. It felt like a curse, and that if he didn't pass it to North, he was going to be stuck with it till' the end of time. For one horrible second, he thought North was going to laugh and decline the letter in his hand.
But it was just a foolish thought; North reached out and curiosly took the letter. It felt like the weight of the world lifted off Jack's soulders, and the boy could finally breathe normally. He leaned against the low stall door, and gazed at the white reindeer, whose intelligent eye stared at him.
''Hey girl,'' Jack whispered, reaching out a hand and patting its white as snow neck. He faintly noted that her behind was the only one in color - it had black dots, like in a dalmatian dog, covering its top and ever so slightly. But it only reached to the half of her back, while all else was pure white. It was a strange breed, Jack concluded.
North spoke normally, without a hint of worry. ''Her name is Warda,'' he murmured, curiosity lacing his tone as he twisted the letter this way and that, not opening it, ''She's a gift from the spirit of naivety...''
''Why would she give you that?'' Jack asked in surprise. Red Riding Hood was never the one to give gifts unless for a specific reason.
North looked up at Jack from bellow his bushy eyebrows. He seemed to contemplate if he should tell their youngest member the reason, but then decided against it. ''Es not important,'' he rumbled and waved a hand dissmisively.
Jack stared at North in question, holding his hand on Warda. The reindeer snorted and pressed her snout into him, making him chuckle. ''Easy there, girl. Aren't you affectionate?''
The albino reindeer shook her head and lowered it as Jack continued patting it. The Guardian of Fun waited for North to open the letter and read it, his soul relieved that North didn't react as badly as the bird. It might not have been serious - some spirits simply felt mischievous and liked to give a scare for no apparent reason - but he couldn't help but to have a feeling that it was something bad. The feeling though might as well be his irrational fear.
''She doesn't usually send letters,'' North mumbled, one hand on his chin in thought and the other holding the letter at which he was intently staring at.
''Who?'' Jack asked, then snorted, ''Baelana?''
North's gaze came up to Jack's face in surprise. Seeing the winter's spirit questioning look, the Guardian of Wonder sighed and relaxed. He had to explain everything to the winter spirit, who was, much to North's horror a few years ago, almost completely oblivious of the way of spirit living. The boy had been isolated for so long, North wondered how he even knew who the Boogeyman was.
''Baelana is a powerful spirit,'' North explained with a low voice, waving an empty hand, ''Spirit of balance. She isn't bad, and she is. She is cruel and she is kind. She is everything, and nothing.''
Jack stared at North with expresionless eyes. North sighed.
''She's the spirit we answer to in case of misbalance, nothing more,'' he said, and looked back to the letter.
''Misbalance?'' Jack questioned, his hand still on Warda's neck.
''Yes,'' North murmured, and reached out a finger to open the letter. He then abruptly decided against it, and shoved the letter unceremoniously but with a wink at Jack into his pocket, ''We open it when our friends come visit. This is to every Guardian, not just you and me.''
A faint twitch in his chest notified Jack of the pride he still felt when North called him a Guardian, directly or indirectly, three years or three seconds.
''Finally, Tooth!'' North bellowed, waving his hands around, albeit he carefully clutched the mug in his right hand. The Tooth Fairy smiled at the Guardian of Wonder.
''Hey, North,'' she said, and buzzed around the space in front of the open Globe Room. Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, she stole a glance at the Globe. Although North seemed cheery enough, he could have might as well called them all for Pitch again. But she doubted Pitch could pull another stunt like he did with the Nightmare War. Not so soon.
Bunny and Sandy stood apart from each other, but both holding a mug of their own. Even Jack held one, and approached Tooth, who hovered above ground in front of the railing, gazing at her friends. He produced a mug seemingly out of nowhere, which looked like magic to the tired Guardian of Memories. She had barely found the time to come by on North's request. She was so busy.
She quietly thanked Jack, taking the mug when she came back to fly behind the railing, and brought the warm mug to her lips; it was hot cocoa.
''So now that we're all here,'' Bunny said, and looked to North, taking a small, tentative sip of his drink, ''Tell us the reason.''
A part of North thought Bunny had a suspicion the talk was going to be about Pitch and his replacement. He didn't blame his scalding look of warning, after all, they just talked yesterday about the spirit of fear. Nevertheless, this matter was a bit more serious.
''Baelana sent a letter,'' he said. Carefully and quickly, he scanned every Guardian's expression. All but Jack, they all held a look of surprise, and Bunny's ears flattened against his head.
''What does she want?'' he asked, taking another, even smaller sip of his cocoa. Sandy next to him, in front of the fireplace, held his mug to his chest, appetite suddenly lost.
''We're gonna find out,'' North announced, and produced the letter from his pocket, after fumbling in the already full pockets. When he took it out, the entire world seemed to lean forward to the letter, peering at it in curiosity. Tooth fled over to North and leaned over his shoulder, while Bunny and Sandy took a few steps to North and leaned as well. Jack merely watched off to the side.
''Her letter alright,'' Bunny mumbled, and took another small sip while the two of his friends leaned away a bit.
''I'll read it,'' North said. Jack was tempted for a moment to announce he was going to get the letter opener in North's office, but North merely pressed a finger to the middle of the letter, and it opened like a treasure chest. Or like a bird opened its wings.
When it did, the three Guardians surrounding North, leaned away a bit more. As if the letter suddenly released a cloud of poison. North took out the paper gingerly, letting the envelope fall to the ground. He fingered the perfectly uncrinkled paper in his hand, then gently unfolded it.
He started reading.
Guardians of the children of the world,
I, the Balance Keeper, announce to you the duty of upholding the law of spirits. As you already know, Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, is either incapable of upholding his job or dead, and thus the duty of his job falls to you - as you are the reason of his absence. You are to right this world by choosing his replacement. Should you fail to do so, you will be held responsible for the misbalance that is soon to take over this world.
And North finished. No 'signed' or 'love' or 'with respect' at the end of the letter. Though neither of them expected it, since it didn't even have a 'dear' at the beginning.
Silence reigned for but a few moments, shocked into freezing, before Bunny's outraged voice spoke out. ''I can't believe it!''
Jack and the rest looked to him. The Easter Bunny threw his mug in a fit of rage at the nearest wall. It didn't shatter, but the clanking distracted the Guardians as the spirit of hope snatched the letter from North's hands and tore at it.
Shocked, North didn't get the time to save the letter, now in dozens of tiny pieces on the floor. Bunny's mad eyes connected with his, and Tooth and Sandy sighed in exasperation, while Jack stared in a new shock at the Guardian.
''We ain't doing it!'' Bunny screeched indignantly, pointing a clawed hand at each of them in turn. ''This world doesn't need a damn fear spirit!''
''Bunny,'' Tooth scolded lightly, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation. ''If Baelana told us, it must be importa-''
''NO!'' Bunny screamed, and Jack took a slight step back in apprehension. But other thoughts of his swirled in his head like a tornado that had nowhere else to go.
Pitch is... Pitch is dead? his mind kept asking him, yet he couldn't give a decent answer due to his shock. The gauntlet still in his hoodie pocket burned against his hand, reminding him that he was supposed to return it, and tell North of the information about seeing the Boogeyman wearing it at some early point in his life.
He had thought maybe, just maybe, he could make Pitch tell who the caretaker of the Guardians had been. Jack suspected it would take many years to get the spirit of fear to talk.
He just didn't know it would take him an eternity, now that Pitch is... gone?
No, Jack thought, shaking his head, That doesn't sound right.
In Jack's mind, Pitch could never be dead. There will always be fear, as the said spirit had once said.
''I refuse,'' Bunny whispered this time instead of screaming, but somehow it would have been infinitely better if he had screamed.
The Guardians stared at the spirit of hope with expresionless eyes. The Pooka sighed, almost like he was relaxing, but Jack knew better.
''Good luck,'' he said, and tapped his foot. The small hole opened and Bunny dived into it swiftly. It closed no sooner than a flower grew out of it. The silence the rabbit left was not shocked, nor uncomfortable. It was merely neutral.
North sighed and turned to his fellow friends. ''Looks like we will have to do this alone, da?''
Sandy and Tooth nodded, but Jack stared at the Russian still in shock.
''You knew Pitch was gone?'' he asked. Only then did the room fall into an uncomfortable silence, broken occasionally by the constant noise of toy-making in the background. Tooth stared at Jack with a questioning look.
''Not quite,'' she said and approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jack got the sudden and unpleasant sense of deja vu, because he was reminded of the first time she put her hand like that. It was to tell him that he didn't know what the Guardians actually did. Protect the children, as she had gestured to the Globe and told of the lights that represented the believers.
''We aren't quite as surprised as we are accepting,'' North said, and put a hand to his chin, his thumb finger glinting a bit. Sandy nodded next to him, albeit his expression was of confusion and mild surprise.
''But... how?'' Jack accentuated the question. He had never in his entire, albeit short, life heard of a spirit dying.
Tooth and North sighed simultaneously, and if Sandy could make noise, Jack would've probably heard him sighing as well.
''Es not impossible,'' North explained, waving a hand and approaching the railing. He pressed his hands into it and stared at the lights while Tooth squeezed Jack's shoulder reassuringly. ''We are not indestructible. We are born, we live, and it is only proper we die.''
''But why?'' Jack reformulated his question, heart twitching painfully in his chest. He had only seen the Boogeyman a few years ago, how could such a powerful entity be just gone.
His look of utter confusion and a slight sadness made North speak again as the Russian leaned his back into the railing and held the cold metal in his clutches. ''Death needs no reason.''
But it wasn't what Jack wanted to hear. It wasn't what Jack expected. Pitch simply could not be dead - the spirit of fear, infinitely older than him, possibly older than the Guardians, could not have vanished into thin air just like that. Like a child's memory, plucked out of the child and the child could no longer tell apart what he was supposed to remember and what he was supposed to forget.
Pitch was not a child's memory. He was a person. He lived, he breathed, he was probably born and chosen just as the Guardians had been. He hurt, he smiled, he laughed and he possibly cried. In Jack's mind, the sentence 'Pitch is gone' did not take root, and would probably never take root. Not for as long as the memory back in Antartica remained. He thought of Pitch as alive, and would never turn his back, no matter how many times Pitch had already stabbed it.
It was a childish promise he had made to himself - that after everything settled, he was going to find Pitch and change him. Whether the Boogeyman wanted change or not. Jack knew the pain of isolation for far too long, and even to this day, when he was a happy Guardian, the sense of loneliness haunted him like a stubborn ghost of the past which simply refused to leave.
''Replacement?'' Jack asked carefully, the idea of replacing the Boogeyman like a broken toy outrageous in his mind.
''Yes, Jack,'' North said and smiled, ''The circle of life moves, and death is a mere trinket on it.''
''How?'' Jack whispered, shaking his head, still disbelieving of the Guardian's nonchalance. He hid his unshed tears by turning to look at a nearest table of toys, refusing to admit he was feeling something. He wasn't sad, and Pitch wasn't gone. ''How do you replace someone like Pitch?''
North and Tooth exchanged glances, while Sandy bowed down his head with a dissatisfied expression. North was the only one to speak.
''First you find the body of the fallen spirit.''
