Disclaimer: Rise of the Guardians and Harry Potter belong to their respective owners.
Quote: Flying is simple. You just throw yourself at the ground and miss.
Chapter 2: A Meeting Between Ice and Wind
Wind, for it had long since forgotten its own name, had the largest body on Earth. Mother Nature, who was the only one who might have been a rival for the title, limited herself to a humanoid form and simply spread her awareness throughout the Earth. Wind was the opposite, its body spanning the globe, but its essence was contained in a single breeze not much longer than an average human was tall.
At this point in history, Wind's essence was flying over a recently settled area in a land which had been much less populated during Wind's first visits across the great water. The village was called Burgress, although names were not important to a creature which had no one to converse with. It was night, and a full moon gazed down serenely on those who walked the Earth. Wind had passed Burgress and was just passing over a frozen pond when it heard a crack.
Confused for the first time in its memory, Wind swirled around in a slow circle, trying to determine the origin of the strange noise. More cracks followed, sounding much like breaking ice. Or rather, exactly like breaking ice as Wind soon found out, turning its attention to the ground. The pond was breaking up.
Emerging from the frozen depths was a boy. He was tall, the Wind decided, and skinny. The boy was dressed all in brown with hair white as the snow surrounding the pond. An odd, thin mist swirled around his back and all the way down to his calves. He was, a small forgotten part of Wind noticed, rather handsome. The boy stumbled on the ice, slipping slightly on the slick surface as the ice beneath his feet mended as though it was the middle of winter.
Wind was intrigued.
It watched as he looked around, confused and lost looking. One pale, bare foot brushed a crooked wooden stick lying forgotten on the icy surface. The boy started, yanking back like a skittish colt. Slowly, as though the stick might suddenly turn into a venomous snake like that of Moses and the Pharaoh of Old, the boy picked up the long piece of wood and held it in front of him, face twisted in concentration. Blue light shown in the knots and twists, and the boy jerked back, the sudden movement causing the end of the stick to make contact with the already frozen surface of the pond. What happened next startled Wind and the boy equally.
Icy frost, similar in design to ferns, erupted from the stick and carved their way across the pond. Wind startled. How interesting. Apparently the boy thought so too for he tapped his new staff against a tree, marveling when the patterns curled around the bark. He tapped the wood against another tree and watched the patterns appear again. Whooping and shouting, the boy ran back to the pond, dragging his staff across the surface and delighting in the patterns which occurred.
Wind was struck by the beauty of the icy designs on the smooth surface and was seized with a desire for the boy to see his own work. Decided on a course of action, Wind spread its essence to more of its body and zoomed down to the ground, shakily picking up the boy and hovering over the pond. Startled, it took a few moments for the boy to notice he now had a perfect view of the work he had made on the ground. When he did notice, he exhaled rather shakily, a bit in awe of his own work.
Stunned by the ethereal look on the boy's face, Wind lost a hold of his body and he dropped. Wind winced as the boy crashed through branch after branch and finally came to rest on a relatively strong limb, his own limbs wrapped securely around the wood. Feeling a little guilty for dropping him, Wind flitted down to the boy's level, relieved when he hopped back up as if nothing had happened, laughing in delight.
Wind watched as the boy's attention was caught by the lights glowing dimly in the distance. Immediate understanding came as the boy crouched, muscles tensing as he prepared to spring off his perch. Wrapping some of its breezes around the boy, Wind slowly transported the boy to the village. Having never tried to actively make someone fly before (birds and other flying creatures simply shaped its body under their wings), there were many dips and sudden drops on the trip. After a rather abrupt landing, Wind turned around and prepared to leave, content in the knowledge that the boy was back where he belonged and it could continue on with its existence.
Absently it listened to the boy's chatter as he greeted the townsfolk.
"Ah, hello there, ma'am. Oh excuse me, could you please tell me where I am-ahhh."
And then it stilled for a long moment; something it hadn't ever done to its knowledge. The boy sounded injured. Whipping around it stared in growing concern as it spotted the boy with a pale, long-fingered hand pressed to his chest as though to soothe some unseen pain.
The townspeople grabbed their clothing as a quick wind stirred up the cold air before glancing at each other in confusion as the sudden breeze disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
Wind circled around the boy, trying to find how he had been injured. It was unable to find anything. The boy stumbled back into the path of one of the townsfolk and Wind tried to warn him of the inevitable collision. But Wind was unable to be heard, and the villager stepped unheeded through the boy. Another and another followed.
The boy looked around in horror and pain at the town full of people who were unable to see him. Deep in Wind's mind the echo of a memory stirred and a feeling of invisibility and look at me! washed over it. Wind swirled a little in confusion, not knowing where the feeling could have originated.
Desperation quickly appeared on the boy's features. It was the desperation which got to Wind. Gently, it threaded a few breezes (fingers) through the boy's hair, trying to offer comfort in the only way it knew how.
The boy's eyes pleaded with the unseen spirit to take him away, and Wind obliged. It picked him up and carried him away, flying him from place to place and where ever the boy wanted. It hadn't realized (had purposely forgotten) how wonderful companionship could be, even if your sole companion didn't believe he was talking to something that was actually alive.
The boy – Jack Frost he had introduced himself as – lived and discovered fun and pain and life, dragging Wind along for the ride. Wind quickly discovered that the Jack's powers were tied to his emotions and will. A perfect example occurred almost five winters after Wind had first met the winter spirit.
Confused, lonely, and in pain, Jack had screamed his emotions to the sky. And the sky had answered back. A thick snow fell, seemingly never ending. Wind stilled its body as much as possible, well aware that if it moved it could create a blizzard which would kill thousands.
Jack released his pain on the world for seven sunsets and Wind wept, unseen and unacknowledged by his side.* It wished desperately that it was able to be heard as more than a shriek or a moan, both were things that would only worsen Jack's depression.
Jack was not alone. And Wind would never let him be alone. Wind knew (and how was that possible) that having even just one person recognizing your existence was wonderful and uplifting, but not enough for social creatures such as humans. It would have to get others to realize that Jack existed, to get them to care for him too. But to do that it would have to be able to speak, and be seen and it would have to let Jack know that from the very beginning it had always been there, would always be there.
And so Wind began the long task of regaining its self, of becoming who it should be. And it would begin with making itself understood.
*Great Snow Storm of 1717