Half a World Away

Jack jerked back, defensively bringing his staff across his body.

"Why, hello, Jack Frost," came the smooth voice. The darkly golden eyes were the only colour against a grey and black countenance.

"Hey," the winter spirit replied. "Fancy meeting you here."

Hands clasped behind his back, Pitch Black started walking, moving in a circle. Jack stepped with him, staff kept at the ready.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Jack?" the boogeyman continued. Beneath soft black spikes of hair, the grey face remained focused ahead.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon," Jack said. Blue eyes stayed locked on the other. "Those Fearlings looked like they had a pretty good grip."

The darker grey of Pitch's lips twitched, but his ashen hands were still held passively. "Yes, I suppose I am unexpected. Rather like how snow is unexpected in Africa, and Australia."

Jack snorted, quitting the circling game and planting the bottom of his staff on the ground. "You missed Santiago. I covered the entire city in less than an hour." Frost crackled pointedly.

The sound was sufficient to get Pitch to turn his head towards the winter spirit. "Santiago? My, you've become accomplished, Jack Frost." His black silken-stiff robe of nightmare sand hardly moved though its flared hem brushed the ground as the boogeyman continued to circle. "I hope you've not been wearing yourself out."

Jack twisted sharply to keep the Nightmare King in view, adding another layer of frost as a ward against rising temperatures. "Been fine, thanks. Actually, no thanks. It's kind of creepy having the boogeyman worry about me. What happened? Couldn't spread fear to claim the world, so now you're going to spread concern to spook everyone?"

"Ah, clever, Jack Frost, very clever," Pitch said. His circling had brought him back between Jack and Upington. The winter spirit narrowed his eyes.

A sharp swing preceded a blue burst of ice magic. Jack laughed as Pitch stumbled backwards. "You're not looking so good, Nightmare King," he snickered as the tall figure slipped and toppled over. Frost was spreading over his chest and creeping past the robe's long v-neck. Though it was hard to tell if there was difference between cloth-sand and grey skin, considering how the thing melded into his hands.

Pitch slowly regained his footing, robe parting at the waist to reveal matching black pants. "Yes…it does seem that my reflexes have diminished." His head was down, looking at his hands as they brushed away the frost. "I suppose, that you wish me to depart."

"Well, seeing as how I'm supposed to be in the city playing with my friends right now… Yep!" Jack grinned from where he was perched atop his staff, watching the boogeyman tidying himself.

"In that case, I shall retire. But," Pitch said, reaching inside his robe to get the frost that had slipped inside, "I would appreciate it if you would join me."

Jack laughed, and retorted- was going to retort- was going to leave- was going to enjoy his last day in Africa. But there was a bottle in the Nightmare King's hands. The seal was removed, the opening pointed at Jack. And there was wind, and heat. Gasping and gagging on the - Hot! Hot! Hot! Backwards in the air. Spinning, tumbling, crashing. Trees, cacti, shrubs, sand. Rolling, rolling to a stop in the sand.

Panting, in the sand. His face burned. Or did the sand burn? His hand was cool. His staff. Grip the staff, focus on it. The heat beat upon his back. Focus! And, slowly, ice spread again.

It took some doing, but Jack stumbled to his feet. He was surrounded by scruffy desert. Ha, scruffy. Get some respect for yourself, desert! Letting all these shrubs take over, honestly!

"Glad to see you enjoying yourself, Jack Frost." The voice came from behind. Jack stopped giggling, jerked around. Pitch. Pitch Black. Was that the direction he had come from? Wasn't there something important back there? Was it safety? He felt like he was in trouble.

Pitch was smiling at him. "You're…not looking so good, Jack Frost."

His forehead was damp. That couldn't be good. He wished the ground would stop trying to move out from beneath his feet.

A Nightmare rushed at him. Ice coursed, and he swung his staff. The black sand creature disintegrated.

Boreas was gone. It had been blown away by that bottle. Bottled south wind, bottled summer. And now summer reigned supreme around the winter spirit, in the heat of the sand, in the breeze blowing at his melted ice, in the sun continuing to rise.

"Feeling better, Jack Frost?" came the insidious voice, and Jack whirled again to face the boogeyman. He was smirking. A little piece of Winter lost in Summer, and Fear had found it.

Pitch opened his hand, and another Nightmare charged. The staff met it. A grey hand was lazily directing black sand to form another. Jack tightened his grip. His head wanted to spin.

The third Nightmare died. The fourth hit him from behind. Staggering, he frantically swung at it, and it was gone too. Pitch was circling again.

He needed cold. Needed winter. Jerking around to watch for Nightmares was making the spinning worse. He stopped, waiting for them to come to him. Boreas would help him.

He staggered and swung again. Looked up. Boreas was there, as always. Nudging the south, but it was strong here, and he couldn't help his wind make it down. Then he would have to go up.

Black at the corner of his eye; his staff met it. How many was that? He gripped the wood as tightly as he could, then jumped. Up, and up the heat stretched. Boreas called him. A little further. Don't give up now. A little further. His staff was cool, but his head hurt. His eyes were closed, but the ground still swayed. Go away, summer. He wanted to stop, hunch over, throw up. Just a little further. Then he was there.

Jack Frost gasped, greedily sucking in the cold air. He wanted to rest, but Boreas was too thin to lift him away.

"Enjoying the fresh air?" Of course Pitch had followed him, two Nightmares at the ready. Jack grit his teeth. Now what?

A blue spear of ice shot at Pitch. One Nightmare took the hit, disintegrating. Another appeared in its place, the grey smile remaining.

Jack scowled back. He could think now, but the only thing that came to mind was how drained he was. Boreas ruffled his hair, wanting to help. There was a spell they could cast, but how would it help?

"I find it uncomfortable here, Jack Frost," Pitch said. His hair blew with Boreas' fiercely impotent assault. "Would you care to join me back on the ground?" Jack tensed, concentrating his magic.

Dark clouds gathered as the Nightmares were loosed. Boreas, scrawny though it was, did its best to slow them. Jack couldn't call the east wind, so he formed as much snow out of his own magic as he could. Pitch snapped his wrists. The horses grew larger, pushing through the wind. The staff swung. Up, into the clouds. And the blizzard began.

Jack's mind went blank from relief as his snowflakes touched him. Or maybe he passed out from the impact of the Nightmares. Because he was falling, slipping through Boreas' thin hands. Falling, because Winter was trying to break through Summer and it needed his help. Falling, because he couldn't help, not without his staff. Falling, because Fear was laughing as it held his staff.

The wind was hot again. So hot it made him want to cry. A north wind blew south. A south wind blew north. It pushed him away from his blizzard. His wind was calling, promising it would keep the signal. But it was already so far away.

Sand. He didn't like sand. Because it reminded him of Fear laughing. Pitch was laughing. Laughing and holding his staff. "Very good of you, Jack Frost, to call for help. I do hope that they arrive soon; you are looking rather-" he paused, leaning closer for inspection, "-healthy." The Nightmare King smiled at the flush overcoming the winter spirit's pallor.

Then Fear was gone, except it wasn't, really. And he wished it hadn't gone, because it had his staff, and he needed his staff. Because he was melting.

Some of the style I used in this chapter was inspired by In The Silence by Esse (fanfiction_net/s/8756198/1/)
The '_' should be a '.' , but FF is stupid.

No particular question for this chapter, but a lot of it was new to my writing experience; did any part of it come off as weird or confusing?

Cheers,
Redemmo