Mend
Drifter
If words could describe the cold behavior of the guardians, Pitch did not know of it. They watched him in a detached manner, cautious of him, and yet worried for him at the same time. He acknowledged them in the same manner. For he felt some bit of remorse. Not because of their feelings, but rather that he did not see the signs that he was actually awake. It weighed heavily on his mind, his obliviousness. He stood about aimlessly, his mind was bereft of much thought as he focused his energy on dealing with his…injuries.
He had not again tried to speak, during the week since he'd come back, he'd not try again, for the silence brought solace to his mind, if anything. Besides, no guardians had come to speak to him since Jack, thus he'd had no reason to bother. Regardless-
A commotion sounded in the hall, and it sounded as if one of the Guardians had tripped. The sound stunned Pitch, he woke from his trance and watched the door, when nothing came through, he walked to it, and poked his head into the hallway. Whinnying echoed down the halls, Likely from the great room, or beyond. The clash of metal, and the sound of ice shattering added to the dissonance. Pitch left the room, his dreadful curiosity reared its head again. He cared little that he may have been walking into battle, as he had confidence that even in his…current state that he'd be able to handle what could be thrown at him. Upon nearing the great room the commotion died down. Whatever the guardians had been fighting, it had not been enough to overtake them. A smattering of black sand greeted Pitch as he entered the threshold, it permeated the air even as it drifted to the ground.
"You know North, this wouldn't have been as dangerous, if you know who had helped."
North glanced at Aster, a mildly disappointed look crossed his face.
"He would have helped us fight them, and you know it!" Aster called, as North went to look at the sand.
"I want Pitch to heal, it would be wrong to send him to fight as weak as he is." North muttered.
"And how long will that take? How long will he just sit there and stare off into space, Nick? You and I both know we don't have the months to wait or him to catch up."
Pitch watched them calmly from the doorway.
North glanced once more at Aster, and sighed, "Give him some more time. Then- " North paused at the strange look on Asters' face. He followed the pookas' eyes then frowned when they landed on Pitch.
"Pitch, what are you doing here?"
He tested his voice, and muttered under his breath about the sand which had begun to coat his clothing.
"Were these nightmares," Pitch whispered when at last his voice seemed presentable, though the ache in his throat disagreed. A bit of sand had collected in his hands, and he rolled the lifeless grains between his fingers. The sand seemed almost heavy, and he wanted to feel bad- but he could not bring himself to miss the nightmares that had once been. North looked cautious when he nodded. Pitch sighed at the response. The nightmares always were insurrectious little deviants.
"What did you need me to do?" Pitch released the sand in his hands.
Aster cast North a pleased look. However, North ignored Aster and answered, "You've only to tell us any weaknesses in the nightmares, and help us defeat them, simple."
Aster scoffed, "You make it seem easier than it is. We've been dealing with them for the past year, and we still haven't found anything that actually helps us fight them."
"Perhaps if you hadn't convinced them to leave me, this wouldn't have happened," Pitch muttered.
"Well, if we hadn't you'd be parading the globe and casting it in fear," Aster snapped.
"Not necessarily, you could have imprisoned me, banished me. Anything would have been better than- better than loose Nightmares and Fearlings right?"
North frowned, "Fearlings?"
"They're wisp like, most of the time. But given a command or a purpose, they can change at will." Pitch responded casually.
"We...have not encountered anything like that,"
"Well, they are not under my control, and given what they are, I'd assume they're wreaking havoc while the nightmares distract you."
A scowl marred Asters' face, "Great, just what we need."
"Would you prefer I'd not told you? Let you think you'd fixed the problem, when nothing would have changed?" Pitch responded coldly, he'd grown bored with Asters' contemptuousness. The pooka did not respond, though the irritation in his face was more than enough of an answer.
Pitch turned his attention back to North.
"When I remade Sanderson's sand into Nightmare sand, I fixed what imperfection in his sand that I'd found. By that logic, there is likely little that could be considered weak about my- the Nightmares. It's been some time since I looked at them, so even if I did know their weaknesses, I'd not be able to tell you without a living one."
North paused, contemplating what Pitch had said.
"Oh no, no, Don't tell me you're thinking about bringing him a live Nightmare," Aster countered, a bit flustered by the idea.
"Why not? It isn't like we could not deal with a single Nightmare," North replied.
"Besides, you don't need to bring me a nightmare, the sand in this room is more than enough for me to reconstruct one, but it will simply be a tad more difficult to make one than it would be to find an already living Nightmare." Pitch glanced at the sand around his feet.
"This is a horrible idea…you could just see the in action instead, that seems simpler than all of this." Aster complained.
"Not so, destroying them and fighting them will not give you any clue as to their weaknesses if it hasn't already. Rather than waste the time you hold so precious, let me find the weaknesses of my Nightmares." Pitch countered harshly. Aster looked as if he'd had more to say, but North stilled him.
"Fine,"Aster relented, "I'm going to check on the others." Aster turned and left the room.
Pitch scooped up the sand upon the ground.
"From this I will make a Nightmare, I will give you the findings." Pitch muttered to North.
North nodded, and followed after Aster.
He waited until the great doors closed behind North before he slipped traveled through the void. "Pitiful,"Pitch hissed. The shadows in the void fled his path as he closed back to his room and looked upon the heap of sand at the center of his bed.
"And to think, I was proud of you once."
Edited 6-27-2016
