Jack once again met the Sandman, but this time he stayed on Emma's roof. He felt just happy to watch the small man. Yet, unknowingly to Jack, the Sandman brought a friend. He had arrived earlier in the week, especially after a long talk with the Golden man. Curiosity and the opportunity for a new story drove him to travel to the village during the cold winter. It took a three day trip, but he arrived. And he waited. His reward had finally came.
Jack Frost saw a fifteen year old boy looking up at him, motioning for him to come down. He noticed that the young man had jet black hair that contrasted with his emerald green eyes. Jack remained unsure if the other guy actually did see him, refusing to leave the tree limb he had been sitting on.
Jack Frost," He heard the teen call out. "Come down and tell me about you."
"Who are you?"
"I'm called by many names," Jack heard the teen answer. "But call me Story. I gather the tales and stories of people and the lands, and take them to other places and lands. So, do tell me what you want for me to know and tell others. Tell me your story Jack."
The morning passed as Story listened to Jack tell about his powers, of his adventures and getting a true quickly noticed a shift in Jack's talking, and instinct told him that the boy was almost finished. He waited until Jack told about seeing the Sandman again and Story smiled.
The Sandman told me about you," Story said, after taking a sip of his hot drink.
Jack looked at him, "What did he tell you?"
"That you were new to things and I love newness!" Story said grinning. The excitement was very clear and very infectious as Jack found himself grinning. "Just thinking of the possibilities for new tales to tell makes glad that I'm alive."
"Wait" Jack said, the grin fading into a smile. "You are like the grownups, yet you can see me. How?"
"I'm not like the other adults," Story told Jack. He motioned with his hands and fingers as he started his own tale.
"Since the day that I was born, I have always been able to see the things that the grownups have forgotten to see. The children see them, and all adults all thought that I, naturally, would forget also. But I didn't."
"I can actually talk to the other Spirits, understand them and I made sure that I told every spirit I met. And it was then that I discovered that I had Magic!" Story said, as a smoky mist started forming from his fingers. Jack listened, watching Story quickly shape the mist into shapes that showed moving pictures as the teen continued talking.
"I left my first home, and traveled around gathering all the fables and tales of many villages and shared the ones that I collected. I quickly discovered that I could draw my powers from two sources. One was from the children, all who believed and thus could see my moving pictures. And the other," Story said, quickly whipping the mist into shadowy shapes around a fire and the people- with adults and children- and Jack looked at it and saw that they seemed afraid. "From the stories of ghosts and fear."
Jack listened, but shuddered suddenly. Story smiled, glancing at the boy, and changed the picture. This time it showed the Sandman with smokey lines moving away from him. Jack knew what that was and he smiled.
"But I found out I got more power for my tales when I helped to make the world better. More cheery," Story said, finishing up. "I found out that people want hope that something good will always happen, even in the face of darkness. So I help to brighten up every person's life who takes the time to listen to my words."
"Just like the Man in the Moon," Story said grinning and waved the mist away. Jack looked at the teen and blinked. "He made me who I am, just like he made you. You have a purpose. And you will definitely discover what you are to do. And if you ever need help, or anything, you can always seek me out Jack. I'll always take my time out for you."br /Jack found himself liking what Story told him, and the Storyteller left the Frosted spirit to think over his words, while he sat down by the hearth to tell of a story of a Monkey King.
It was evening again and the Moon found Jack sitting on a brand of a large tree overlooking the pond.
It had been hours ago that Story had left the village. But the boy had been given some advice from Story, that Jack was now thinking about.
"Always remember this Jack," Story told him before he left. "Things always happen for a reason. Never stay angry and never be mad at the Moon."
Jack slowly started to feel stronger than the night before, and he jumped up onto his feet. He grinned as he grabbed his staff and ran right off the roof. The wind caught him and he flew into the night sky.
"Take me where Story is," He said. The wind whistled and soon Jack found himself over a bigger village. He landed on a rooftop and wondered how he was going to find his friend when he heard the laughter of children. The boy, curious about what was going on, dropped to the ground and looked through a window to see Story. Jack looked, seeing his friend telling about a boy who was the prince of snow. Jack grinned as the smokey mist figure looked alot like him. Then suddenly Story whipped his fingers forming a name out of the mist and Jack recognized it to be his name.
Jack Frost smiled mischievously and touched the window with the crook of his staff, making the window frost over with ice. Then the Winter Spirit drew a picture of a snowflake into the frost.
Suddenly Jack found alot of faces in the window and barely heard laughing and the sounds of amazement. Surprised, he stumbled back, hearing Story laughing before Jack took off away from the crowd of children that he attracted. He landed nearby on another roof and chuckled to himself. He grinned as he felt invigorated and alive.
