First off I want to apologize for taking forever with this update. I've been focusing more on my other fanfic (The Ultimate Spider-Man if any are intrested) and so heres the next chapter so please enjoy those of you who are still interested.
The Gardian of Wonder and Christmas hummed merrily as he worked on his newest idea. The ice cluttered around him as he worked but he paid it no mind -the elves would probably deal with that. The big man subconsciously stopped his work to grab a cookie the elves had brought in earlier.
Yes, this would be a good year and North smiled just thinking about going out on the cold snowfilled night and leaving gifts for the children who slep soundly.
North's smile fell into a small grimace - a sad smile because there always came a time when he realized that the children were growing as another year came to a close.
He like all other Guardians had to accept that children had to grow up and with that, they stopped believing. Of course there was always those few that retained the echo of belief but those were few.
North jolted back to the present and he shook the saddened thoughts from his head, reaching for his pick and hammer.
It was then that he felt the room grow cold; the shadowed parts of the room grew longer and darker.
His hands flew to his belt where his swords usually hung but in the safetly of the Pole he didn't ususally feel the need to carry them. The air became chilled and frozen as if stilled in time.
Then a feminine smokey, eerie voice behind him, "Busy year North?"
The Guardian spun around to face the unexpected guest. As soon as he saw who it was, he took an involuntary step back.
"I haven't come for you North...not so soon."
The figure spoke and North released a breath he haden't realized he'd been holding and he took in the spirit before him in somewhat more calm. The spirit was garbed in a long black cloak, the cowl pulled up to shield the face of the wearer, only allowing dark eyes to be seem gleaming through. The only other part of the spirit to be seen was a skeletal, pale hand. An aura hung about the spirit that radiated cold and hidden power.
The spirit floated a few inches off the ground and the most noticable feature was the trademark item of the spirit -a long sharpened scythe.
Oh yes, North knew who it was, everyone would have known. The Spirit of Death, guider of those who had passed. In the back of his mind North knew that over the centuries, there were many death spirits.
They worked much diffrent than regular spirits, always changing and none knew where they came from or where they went when they disapeared and were repalced by another. And now the newest stood -floated- before him.
She had been around for only a few hundred years and she, like all previous death spirits, had hardly been seen.
North realized that she was still waiting for him to speak. Hasily he cleared his throat,
"Alora, what are you doing here?"
The cloaked spirit finally allowed her feet to land silently on the floor, the scythe making a dull thump on the ground.
"What else would I be doing here North? Something is coming...Death is coming and I've come to warn you."
North felt the begining of panicbuilding in his stomach but he had never been one to outrightly panic. And he had bigger concerns than himself. The very thing that the Guardias existed to protect.
"Is it the children? Are they in danger?"
The spirit ran her hand down the blade of her scythe. "To an extent, yes. I can sense the death of all and even sometimes...the life that comes from death. But I can sense when deaths are coming to those who's time is not yet here."
North's eyes narrowed, "who is responsible for this?"
Alora looked directly into North's eyes. "You have battled before. He will return with a vengece and so will another. Another much more power."
North growled deep in his throat, "Pitch will return then. I thought as much."
"Yes," Alora went on, "Pitch Black will return but he is only the spirit of nightmares. He will bring with him a spirit of much greater power and long nurtured hatred and anger. A spirit much more...ancient."
North's mind was already reeling; thinking about what he would say to the other Guardians. Then he thought of another question.
"Wait, why?"
Alora's hooded head tilited in a questioning guesture.
"Why are you warning me?"
The Spirit of Death lifted from the floor, "If things are to go as they are set for now, the Guardians will all cease to be."
North gave a short sound of disbeleif and shock.
"But that was never meant to be so soon and so I must act and so must you if the clocks are to be changed into the course they are meant to take."
North turned towards the door ready to assemble the Guradians and put a stop to what could be worse than Pitch Black but the voice of Alora halted him just as his hand touched the handle.
"North? Do what you can. I have no wish to collect those who are not meant to be collected before they are meant. And if nothing is done, the first I am to collect will be Jack Frost."
So here's chapter 2 and please tell me how I did. I promise I'll try to update faster next time. Until next time dear reader(s) I will be back...