A Rise of the Guardians / Guardians of Childhood Fanfic
By Sakura Martinez
Author's Note:
One of the questions I can be sure some of you are asking at the end of the previous chapter was: "Where are Jack and Pyro?". Well, this chapter aims to answer that. So, I hope y'all enjoy it and leave a review.
Also, I am thinking of compiling this entire fanfic into an ebook for easier reading. That is, if there are people interested in revisiting the story again after it's done. The ebook will be clean of grammatical and typographical errors, and will include images...which, begs the question: what scene would you like to be turned into an artwork? I'd like to know before I set out to work on those (after finishing the story, of course). No need to suggest character portraits of the OCs, I'm already thinking of adding them. So, yeah...tell me what you guys would like and I'll see if I could get those done...or if you're interested in said ebook.
Dream on; Fly on!
Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or the Guardians of Childhood series. It would have been awesome if I did, but I don't. Those belong to William Joyce and Dreamworks Animation.
Summary: Pitch's parting words to Jack and the other Guardians of Childhood during the Battle of Belief held a clear message: The Guardians may have won the battle, but the war was far from over. Now, Pitch is rallying the forces of darkness, calling to arms a dark and sinister group: The Fright Knights. The battle to end the war is underway, but are the Guardians ready?
Rise of the Fright Knights
Chapter Fifty-Four
The Battle Rondo of Light and Shadow, Part Three
Pyro Jack couldn't believe their luck. He was itching for a fight. Sparks—literally—was flying around him, making Jack equal parts annoyed, amused, and worried. They had circled around the entirety of Pitch's domain, and yet had found no signs of the Nightmare King himself. So far, all they've been dealing with were Nightmare Men and Fearlings—all of whom were not enough to satiate the Autumn Spirit's thirst for payback.
"Are you sure we're at the right place, Pyro?" Jack asked. They were at the central hall of the Nightmare King's underground palace after having searched for any paths and rooms they may not have checked before.
"Of course we are. I think I would know the place I have been living in ever since Pitch took me in." Pyro retorted. "Besides, the Nightmares and Fearlings wouldn't be here if Pitch is no longer making use of this place."
"Then where is he?" It was an acceptable question. "Maybe he up and left when he learned of what you've done."
"Pitch wouldn't. If I'm to guess, Nyx and the monkey told Pitch I've been dealt with. He would have no reason to leave." Pyro mused, hands under his chin as he spoke. "He spent two decades building this place up after you trashed his previous underground hideout. He wouldn't just throw this all away. No. This is still the Nightmare King's palace. I'm sure we're only missing something, like a secret doorway that leads to where Pitch is hiding and watching us."
"Then we have to find that secret doorway, and Pitch, fast." Jack was up in the air again. Pyro needn't ask why he was being antsy. Jack Frost was worried about Toothiana who would have been fighting by now.
The Autumn Spirit nodded. Just as they were about to resume their search, he said, "You know, I didn't expect this 'search for a needle in a haystack' scenario. I thought, as soon as we got here, Pitch would be welcoming us with a fight."
Jack shrugged. He expected the same thing, but then again, this was Pitch Black they were dealing with.
"I think it's safe to assume that when it comes to Pitch, it's better to expect the unexpected." Jack shared with Pyro.
Pyro snorted. He knew that.
The Sandman began to hate the Monkey King more and more. It was really the first time Sandy felt any kind of intense distaste for someone. Even Pitch Black, after all he had done, never made Sanderson Mansnoozie feel that way.
It wasn't only because of the fact that, for someone who was once royalty, he was uncouth, uncivilized. He also spoke of Toothiana in a way that no one should. It made Sandy's blood boil. For her sake, Sandy was going to make sure she would never have to deal with the Monkey King ever again.
The Monkey was tiring. Sandy's faux Toothiana was making quick work of him, which made the monkey angrier. Still, it wasn't enough. Not after what the Monkey King had done to Toothiana.
Seeing as he had nothing left to lose, the Monkey King, in all of his desperation, fought wildly. He swiped his sword whichever way, hoping to hit his enemy with it. Surprisingly, he managed to struck the dreamsand Toothiana with it, right where the real Toothiana's heart would be.
He let out a howl of victory, thinking that he had finally did what he had sought to do for a really time. To his surprise, however, that Toothiana suddenly crumpled into nothingness.
"What is the meaning of this?" he cried out, turning in place and looking spooked.
The Sandman couldn't help but grin. He had heard how easily the Monkey King was frightened. He then began to recreate the dreamsand Toothiana from where she had been struck down. As she materialized into being once more, the Maharaja's face registered nothing but shock, fright, and befuddlement. And then, it dawned into understanding.
"Sandman…" the Maharaja growled. "I should have known Toothiana would not be able to handle me on her own!"
Sandy shook his head as he descended from the rafters and showed himself to the Monkey King. He wanted to tell the monkey that he was mistaken. Toothiana could handle him on her own, she had just decided not to.
"It doesn't matter if it's you or her." The Maharaja spat. "I will kill you, and then I'll kill her. I will kill all of you!"
The Guardian of Dreams glared at the Monkey King. The Maharaja continued his expletives as Sandy descended, there was not enough soap in the world to clean his filthy tongue. It was apparent that the Monkey King didn't get the memo of not making said Guardian mad.
Once his foot had touched the ground, Sandy didn't waste any time in attacking with such ferocity you would not have thought of him as a pacifist.
His attacks were fast, swift, and unrelenting. His dual whips lashed at the Monkey King in quick successions. All the Fright Knight could do was block them as he staggered backwards. And even then, he was unable to stop them all. Several of the attacks hit, creating gashes and other wounds.
For every attack of his that connected, the Sandman waited for a reaction. He waited for his dreamsands to take effect and for the Maharaja to fall asleep. It was taking a lot of time, though. And time, at the moment was something he didn't have. Toothiana was going to bring the next Fright Knight. He had to be finished with the Monkey King by then.
He glanced at the container hanging around his neck, the one that contained his strongest and purest dreamsands and weighed his options. Once again, the words of the Mermaids—their warning—rang true in his head.
Only when all hope is lost.
Hope wasn't lost, that much Sandy knew was true. But he also knew that he had to take the risk and not prolong the battle further. He had to prepare for the next fight.
But, it I use it…will I still be able to prepare? And will it actually work? It's obvious the Monkey King has protection against my dreamsands…As much as I don't like him at all, I don't want killing him to be the only option left now…They said I'll be in trouble if I used it haphazardly…but, I'm not really using them indiscriminately, am I?
The Guardian of Dreams was thinking so hard that his attacks slowed down a bit. This was all the Maharaja needed, however, to start his counterattack. Whatever footing Sandy had before was lost, as the Monkey King found within him a new energy. Where he found it, the Sandman had no clue. Still, Sandy berated himself for losing focus.
"You think you've already won against me, didn't you?" laughed the monkey. It was his turn to attack. "I'm not that easy, little man."
Despite the pressure the Monkey King was trying to place on him, the Sandman wasn't at all perturbed. There was one big difference between the monkey and himself. And it made itself known when the Monkey King suddenly staggered to the side, thrown off by an attack he didn't see coming from an attacker he hadn't noticed: one of Sandman's golem-like sand creatures.
Sandy took that moment, to open the container around his neck. The Mermaids' warning still echoing, but he paid it no mind. He had made his decision. He was going to accept whatever consequence comes his way.
He then used some of the sands inside to recreate his whips. The whip felt heavier with the pure dreamsands. He could feel the power in the sands, however, and it was providing a strong energy that made even him sleepy.
Without waiting for the Maharaja to recover, Sandy quickly wrapped his whip around the monkey. He allowed the dreamsands in his whip to touch the monkey for much longer than he usually does. Then, using all the strength he could muster, the Sandman flicked his wrist and sent the Monkey King flying to the other side of the room.
He knew, even before he floated to where the Monkey King had crashed-landed, that he had knocked him out. He felt smug by it.
One down, two more to go. Sandy thought to himself as he began to encase the Fright Knight in a coffin made of his dreamsands, sprinkling a bit more of the pure ones in to make sure that the Maharaja would not awaken for as long as he was inside said coffin.
As soon as he was done, Sandy dusted his hands and nodded to himself for the job well done. He was about to return to his perch up at the rafters to prepare for the next Fright Knight when he suddenly felt dizzy. The world around him spun around and around, even when he was standing still.
His hand quickly shot to his head, caressing it as though it would sooth his discomfort. It didn't. And that dizzy feeling only intensified. He then began to stagger. He couldn't even get himself to fly.
'D-Don't tell me…' Sandy looked at the container hanging around his neck, still open. He struggled to keep his eyes to focus; to keep himself from losing consciousness. 'This…This can't...happen…Tooth…'
The Guardian of Dreams failed. Within seconds, he laid sprawled on the ground, out cold.
"We're getting nowhere," Jack groaned. They had finished their search, but no matter how many times they looked around the Nightmare King's castle, they could find no hint of him, nor of any kind of contraption that may open up any hidden passages and secret rooms. "I really am starting to think Pitch isn't here."
"No kidding," Pyro sighed, arms crossed. He didn't like to think about the fact that they had wasted a lot of time trying to find the Nightmare King in his palace. But what's done was done. There was that particular question to be answered, however, "But, if he's not here, then where the hell is Pitch Black?"
"I'd hate to think…" Jack trailed off, shaking his head. He wasn't going to entertain wherever that particular thought was going to take him. He'd probably never forgive himself if his gut feeling was right.
Pushing himself from the wall he had leaned himself into, Jack added, "If he's not here, then we'd better go back and help the others."
Pyro smirked. He wanted to tease Jack Frost about why he wanted to go back to 'the others'—whom he supposed was really just Toothiana. The Guardian of Fun hadn't shared much apart from his earlier statements, but Pyro was certain that whatever the two argued about, Jack Frost wanted to fix.
"Alright, if I can't pummel Pitch Black to the ground, I might as well take out all my frustrations on the monkey."
As they were leaving, both caught sight of a shadow's movement. It was so quick. Had they blinked at the same time, they would have missed it. The two Guardians looked at each other and nodded. There was no need to put it into words. They were going to follow that shadow.
The shadow took them down winding pathways and strange, seemingly-directionless staircases as though it was trying to lose them. Though it had a form of its own and humanoid in shape, the shadow was not of the Nightmare King. It made the Winter and Autumn Spirits suspicious, but with no other leads and not wanting their journey to Pitch Black's domain be an entire bust, they had no choice but to follow the mysterious silhouette.
The path it led them to was not new to the two Guardians. They had been there before. Again, they couldn't help but think if it was a trap setup by the Nightmare King.
It doesn't matter, Pyro thought to himself, never once taking his eyes off of the shadow. If it is Pitch's trap, then at least we'll know where he is hiding.
They continued following the shadow, having lost count of the minutes that had ticked by since finding it. They have also lost count of how many twists and turns the shadow took, especially when the hallway it passed could have been reached several intersections ago. If its intention was to confuse them with its roundabout ways, then it had done a perfectly good job.
"Where is it taking us?" Jack asked.
"Who cares?" Pyro answered Jack's question. "Besides, if we knew where it would be taking us, we wouldn't be following it now, would we?"
Jack rolled his eyes. It was only just a rhetorical question. There was no need to Pyro to actually answer. Another long silence descended on them after that. They kept their eyes and ears peeled for any sign of an ambush.
There was none, however. Even as the shadow led them to a dead end, no Nightmares, Fearlings, or Nightmare King launched themselves to attack. As soon as they thought they had cornered the shadow, however, it disappeared on them. It didn't even leave any signs that it was there to begin with, promptly making Jack and Pyro wonder if they had both hallucinated the same thing.
"Again, that is a complete and utter waste of time!" Pyro couldn't help but kick the wall beside him in aggravation. "Nothing but a stupid, wild goose chase! I swear I'm gonna strangle Pitch Black for making us run around in circles like that!"
"I don't think it was for nothing, Pyro," Jack said, though he chose his words carefully.
"What are you talking about, Frost?"
Jack gestured to the wall. There was something odd about it. He couldn't really explain what it was, just that it felt as though it didn't belong.
"Look at this wall." He said. "Don't you feel anything strange from it? It's…sort of familiar."
"Sort of familiar? What are you talking about? Every damn wall in this place is familiar. They all look the same!" Pyro retorted. Just what was Jack Frost trying to say? Had the Winter Spirit completely lost his mind? "Heck, even the decorations are all familiar. I've seen them countless of times."
"No. Not like that." Another eye roll, Jack was pretty certain he had developed it as a reflexive reaction every time Pyro said something that was meant to be condescending. "It's just…do you think we can destroy this wall? I think the secret room or passageway we're looking for might be behind it."
"I don't know about the secret room and passageway, but I like the idea of destroying stuff." Pyro replied, rubbing his hands together. "While we're at it, why don't we just destroy the entire palace?"
Jack grinned. That sounded like a good idea. Besides, if they were going to end this war with Pitch, the Nightmare King wouldn't need his palace for long.
"Alright," Jack nodded, eyes twinkling for the first time since he and Pyro partnered up. "But only after we checked if there is something behind this wall."
"Deal!" Pyro had no qualms about that. "I hope you don't mind me doing the honors."
"No," Jack shook his head. "By all means, go on ahead."
Pyro didn't waste a second after that. He quickly charged his fist with Hestia's flames, making it glow white—the color with which flames present themselves at its very hottest temperature. With a grin that was bordering on maniacal, Pyro punched the wall as hard as he could. The moment his fists made contact, the white flames burst out from his balled fist and shattered the wall as though it was made of glass.
Jack whistled at the sight, "Wow. Why didn't you use that flame on me when we were fighting?"
"It was because during your first few battles, he did not have me with him." It was Hestia's voice that answered before Pyro Jack could make something up. "And when he finally did bring me along during your battle in Burgess, I could not bring myself to help him. He was being an idiot, after all. I do not wish for my flames to be used in such an unrefined manner."
"Says the person who went on a rampage in Toothiana's palace." Muttered Pyro.
Hestia, having heard what Pyro had said, materialized right beside him and gave him a good smack at the back of his head.
"W-What was that for?" Pyro asked, voice raised.
Instead of answering, however, Hestia returned to the lantern hanging by Pyro's waist. The exchange between the flame and its wielder prompted a hearty laughter from Jack Frost who was watching it. When Pyro glared at him, while still rubbing the spot Hestia had smacked him, Jack stifled his laughter.
As the dust settled, their somber mood returned. There was, indeed, a path hidden behind the wall.
The Demon of Yule's attack was powerful. It sent a loud, reverberating clang when his metallic, Tainted Moonbeam-imbued claws met with Nicholas St. North's twin sabers. Sparks flew at the friction their weapons caused. Yet, despite the large built of the demon, the Guardian of Wonder managed to keep Krampus' from pushing him and his weapon from injuring him.
Of course, Krampus was only just half of his problem. The other half was the Nightmare King who chose not to stay in the sidelines, even as Krampus began his assault on North. If North had been the person he once was, before Krampus almost killed him and Big Root saved him, he doubted he would have stood a chance between two powerful foes. Thankfully, he wasn't. He now had the complete arsenal of magic he once wielded.
It was strange how he had forgotten them up until that point. It made him feel bad. After all, Ombric had done all he could to tutor Nicholas St. North when he was still young. The last Atlantean had shared with him all that he knew. But North also knew that he couldn't help forgetting. He had buried everything about Ombric, Katherine, and Nightlight as far back in his memories as he could. He wanted to keep them there, at least, when they had all chosen to leave him. He didn't expect that doing such a thing would make him forget about them and what they had taught and given him in the long run.
But now, he had a chance to make it up to them. He was going to use everything he had learn from them to defeat the enemy they had been trying to defeat for a very long time.
Still, it wasn't to say that North didn't have any difficulties facing two strong opponents. He had. But he didn't have much of a choice. Bunnymund was still unaware of what was going on, probably because he was so busy with overseeing the children in his Warren—not that Bunny would be able to provide any support on such a fight. And of course, the other Guardians were indisposed of as well. Tooth and Sandy were still fighting the Monkey King and Nyx, and who knows what had happened to Jack and Pyro. It was up to him now.
The attacks both parties dealt were not graceful in any way. It was raw with power, primitive even. There was no room for grace, poise, or any of that sort in a battle where brute strength can play an important role.
Still, watching North fight was like watching a gymnast with his flips and gravity-defying movements. His attacks did not come as fast as Toothiana or the Sandman does, but his movements made it seem like there were two of them. Whenever he could break himself away from the deadlock against Krampus, he would flip in the air and focus his attention on the Nightmare King, before returning to the Demon of Yule once more. It was a wonder how North could do still deal damage against his foes.
But Pitch Black and Krampus both knew—as North did—that the Guardian couldn't keep such energy up for so long. North needed to eliminate one of them as soon as possible.
And so, North focused most of his energy on Krampus while still keeping an eye on Pitch. He mixed up his attacks, dealing magic one second and then letting Tsar Lunar XI's sword pierce through Krampus' skin the next—long-ranged then short-ranged, and then back again.
Soon, not only was Krampus riddled with wounds from North's sabers, his dark fur had also been burnt and electrocuted in some places. Yet, no matter how much damage Nicolas St. North seem to deal on the Demon of Yule, Krampus remained steadfast and unrelenting. Even when North had successfully cut off a large chunk of Krampus' flesh, the demon seemed not to take notice. It was as if he could feel no pain.
"You will pay!" Krampus bellowed as he swung his good arm at North. North managed to jump out of the way and swipe his sword at Krampus. The attack hit, and still no reaction of pain whatsoever. It was utterly disconcerting.
"Have you noticed it yet, North?" Pitch asked during a lull in the battle as both sides gauged each other once more. "No matter how many times you wound him—and no matter how fatal that wound may be—Krampus will just shrug it off. The same is true for the other Fright Knights. They're much stronger than how they once were, after all."
North flexed his fingers. His hands felt wet with sweat, clammy, as he held on to his dual sabers. Pitch's revelation spelled trouble for him. Nothing short of death would stop Krampus now, and that bothered the Guardian of Wonder.
Despite being an ex-Cossack in his previous life—and being hailed as one of the fiercest and most feared bandit of his time—Nicholas St. North had never taken another person's life. Even in his early adventures as a Guardian, his hands had never been tainted. It was not just because he wouldn't take a man's life. It was also because he couldn't.
This was something Pitch Black knew about the Guardian and had decided to use against him.
"What are you going to do now, North?" Pitched laughed.
If looks could kill, the look North was giving the Nightmare King would have done it. Still, North forced himself to calm down and to think.
There has to be a way to win, Nicholas St. North would stop at nothing until he finds it.
Both Jack Frost and Pyro Jack couldn't make heads or tails of what they were looking at. The secret passageway had led to an equally secret room, filled with all sorts of mechanical and bizarre contraptions. Tubes—long, transparent ones—snaked across the walls, the tables, and over some of the equipment as well, transporting a liquid of a strange kind.
Gears rotated and clanked together, stream shot out from all sorts of places. Large, cylindrical containers towered near the center of the room. It was bigger than all the Guardians combined and as wide as it was tall. There were other glass containers hanging on the walls and sitting atop the tables, all of them dark-colored, hiding whatever they had inside from view. From these tinted containers, more tubes connected it to the large one in the middle of the room.
There were also a lot of control panels and overhead monitors, all buzzing with some calculation or another. Dark-hued lights flashed on some of the machinery, while others provided graphs of different kinds.
It looked like a mad scientist's lab.
"What the heck is all of this?" Jack asked after picking his jaw from the floor. "Is this what Pitch has been busy with for the past twenty years?"
"Harvesting…" muttered Pyro, suddenly remembering what he had overheard before. His eyes were fixed on the large cylindrical container at the center of the room, too foggy to see the actual contents inside.
"What?" Jack turned to face the Autumn Spirit, uncertain if his companion actually said anything.
"I think…" Pyro spoke slowly. "I heard the others talking. I'm not really sure what it was, but they spoke of harvesting…something. I was caught up with Nathalie to really notice. All I could gather was it had something to do with the children."
"You think this has something to do with that." It wasn't a question, just a clarification. "Whatever it was that Pitch and his goons harvested from the children are being kept here?"
Pyro nodded. He pressed a hand over the large container, trying to get a feel for it. He wasn't ready to press his face and take a good look inside. He was worried he wouldn't like what it was that he was going to see.
"Then we have to find out as much as we can!" Jack rushed towards the monitors, searching for anything to would give proof to what Pyro had said. "Maybe there's information here that could help the Man in the Moon's Moonbeams as well."
Pyro nodded, leaving the cylinder to join Jack. His eyes scanned the data being displayed. He could barely understand what they were, too many numbers and formulas. What he could understand where the shapes that looked like the Fright Knights. Next to this display were a bunch of numbers, fluctuating every other second.
Jack, for his part, was struggling to understand another set of monitors. They didn't have as many numbers and formulas on them, but they were filled with jargon that only Pitch Black would be able to make sense of.
Both Guardians groaned at the same time. They were faced with something that was too big for the two of them. Just when Jack was about to give up trying to understand what all the data being displayed on the monitors was, he felt that same familiar feeling he had felt back at the dead-ended hallway.
He looked around, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. He moved slowly, carefully, as he tried to remember what that strange feeling was. Eventually, he had found it was coming from the large cylinders.
"It's coming from here," Jack told Pyro. Pyro had no idea what he was talking about, and he didn't bother to hide that fact at Jack. This prompted the Winter Spirit to explain. "That familiar feeling I told you about before. It's coming from this…thing."
Before Pyro could fully comprehend what Jack was talking about, the Winter King went to work trying to break the container and free its contents. The first strike did nothing, except make Pyro frantically ask Jack what he was doing. The second strike, similarly, had no effect, though Pyro had stopped his questions and just stood back as Jack tried to break the large container. The third one, however, made something leap out of the container.
The two Guardians jumped back in surprise. The 'thing' looked like a dark goo. It looked sticky and was pulsing with crimson light. It was also sentient.
"W-What is that thing?" Jack clutched his staff tighter, then watched in horror as it transformed into a familiar form, albeit sinister-looking than he remembered. "No way. It's a Tainted Moonbeam!"
"It looks much more grotesque than the one I used," Pyro observed, keeping himself away from the creature.
"No kidding. But, if that thing is in there…" he trailed off. Jack didn't want to think that the familiar feeling had been a monstrous Tainted Moonbeam. "We've got to destroy this cylinder."
"What? Are you out of your mind?" Pyro exclaimed. "That's a Tainted Moonbeam that came out of there. A mutated one, by the looks of it. Surely you haven't forgotten what it can do to us!"
"Yeah, but it would be better to destroy the thing now than leave it alone." Jack pointed out. "Besides, I don't think that was the cause of what I was feeling before."
The Flame Spirit looked at Jack Frost as though he had grown two additional heads. He was about to tell the Winter Spirit to leave him out of it when Jack added, "It will piss Pitch so much if he learns his Tainted Moonbeams have been destroyed."
And that was that. It was all Pyro needed to hear to motivate him. He immediately agreed with Jack's plan. If it meant annoying Pitch Black, he was willing to do anything.
Had both Guardians thought it through, however, they would have opted to try something else than using brute strength. Because the moment they destroyed the container, hundreds upon hundreds of Tainted Moonbeams converged on them.
