Hey, guys! So sorry I missed a few updates: I...have officially moved back into college. Yay...? Well, either way, it made it so that I haven't had much time to write for a while, but I managed to get this chapter done in a...relatively decent amount of time, I'd say! Keep in mind, since I am back in school, I don't know how consistent I'll be able to make updates, but this story will definitely hold higher priority than Becoming a Guardian, so...I'll do my best! Anyway, onto the reviews!
Thanks so much to Demi clayton and EveryFortressFalls (Whoa! Thanks so much for the incredibly detailed reviews on both this and Running for Life! I'll do my best to reply to as much as I can, starting with RFL XD First off thank you so much for all of your kind words! It really means a lot :) As for the song suggestions, I haven't had the time to listen to them just yet, but I'll be sure to do that as soon as I'm able to! The dividing lines between my author's notes and the story you're talking about is actually just put in by a "horizontal line" button on the FanFiction document editor, nothing too fancy! I'm admittedly slightly confused by your suggestion to mark RFL as complete, because as far as I can see, it is marked as complete. I'm not sure why it's not showing that on your end, but I assure you, I did mark it as such once I posted the last chapter! And finally, I'm flattered you'd consider drawing fanart for this series! :D Be sure to let me know when it's finished if you do decide to do it! Once again, thank you so much for your reviews, and I truly hope you continue enjoying the chapters I put out :) for reviewing!
With that, on with the chapter!
Chapter 25: Breaking Silence
Jack Frost's Personal Notes
Day One of Speech Practice: I have managed to return to the stables again today in order to practice speaking to Zephyr; in fact, I'm sitting in his stall now as I write this. I've told none of the others about this, of course. They simply believe my visits are only out of a desire to see my closest companion again...which is not wrong, obviously, just not the whole truth.
I would like to say that I'm only hiding this from everyone else so that I can surprise them all when I'm eventually able to talk again, but...I'm afraid my true reasoning is not quite that optimistic. Truthfully, I do not know that I could cope with the pressure that would surely fall upon me if they knew what I was doing...they would likely want to see my progress, push me to try to speak in front of them before I'm ready, and the like...it would be well-meaning, of course, but I believe the anxiety would be too much for me to bear, and would impede my progress rather than encourage it. I think it is best for now that I refrain from telling them anything…
As for my actual progress today, it is...minor, at best. My voice is still extremely weak from lack of use, and I have managed little more than a slight whisper. The good news, however, is that I do not seem to be gripped by fear at any point when speaking to Zephyr, though whether it is my bond of friendship with him or the fact that he is an animal and not a person that causes this phenomenon, I do not know. Nevertheless, I have merely been whispering simple words and phrases for the time being, in an attempt to strengthen my voice once more. Perhaps then, I can start attempting to mimic a normal conversation...or perhaps even verbally recount what I've been through recently in an attempt to better come to terms with it...
I'm not sure exactly why I'm documenting all of this, to be perfectly honest...perhaps seeing everything spelled out clearly in ink could be a form of motivation? To prove to myself that I truly am progressing, so that I do not lose heart? Mhm...I suppose the validity of that idea will show itself in time. For now...I must return to my room. I'm growing tired…
Day Two of Speech Practice: Aster has mixed me a potion to restore some of my strength, so I can stay in the stables longer today. Apparently, he was impressed with the amount of herbs that Lily has been able to grow down here in the city's agricultural area. The two seemed to talk for a while about it...I mostly ignored their conversation, but I believe Simon looked a bit jealous, heh. Then he seemed especially embarrassed when I wrote to him, saying that he had nothing to worry about because Aster was never exactly the romantic type. After that, Simon called me a "terrible friend"...though he had nothing else to say once I pointed out that most good friendships don't begin with amputation and attempted murder.
...I've since saved that piece of parchment, because I consider that a fairly decent line, even if he didn't.
Hm, strange how these notes have seemingly evolved into a journal of sorts without my intending for it to happen...ah, well, I might as well get to the actual point of my writing this: my speech practice.
I am once again sitting in the stables as I write this, right by Zeph's side, of course. I was able to speak a bit more today, even managing to read my previous entry aloud without too many problems. It seems that my voice comes easier to me when the words are scripted…
Even still, it did not take a terribly long time for my throat to become weary. It's an odd feeling to struggle with speaking, something that was once so simple...but I suppose I'll merely have to keep practicing until my stamina is restored, especially if I want to eventually be able to properly participate in the other Guardians' conversations about Ebon's impending revolution, without needing my parchment and quill. As of right now, all of us are still unsure of what exact series of actions to ultimately take, but the one thing that is clear is that we need to figure out where the Fearling went. Otherwise, it's doubtful that we'll be able to stop this before it spirals into disaster...
Day Three of Speech Practice: My voice has improved somewhat, due to both my gradually increasing use of it, and potions I've been given that have begun to heal my partially wounded throat...I am now able to speak in a low murmur for a couple of minutes without losing heart or succumbing to pain. It seems that slowly but surely, I'm making progress. However...there are more important things to discuss today than my speech practice.
Lily has finally managed to awaken Cynthia...although based on the poor girl's response to the current situation...I get the feeling she might have preferred staying asleep.
It seems that Ebon had already revealed himself and some of his actions to her before he placed the curse on her…she already knew about her father's death (or rather, Ebon's intentions at the time to murder Dr. Fletcher) and her brother's possession. Despite the best efforts of the Guardians, Lily, Simon, and the two remaining councilmembers, Rayla and Shiro (it seems that Ferran and Sera both disappeared along with Ebon)...Cynthia remains inconsolable. I understand, of course...I know the pain of losing family all too well.
It somewhat pains me to say this, but...Cynthia reminds me a bit of Livi. I remember watching my sister's eyes light up whenever a story about the Guardians of Childhood was told to her...and Cynthia wore a similar expression when she first opened up to me after learning I was one of them. They possess a similar aura, so to speak...though unfortunately, Cynthia seems closer to the Olivia I knew shortly before her...untimely passing.
The sad look in her eyes, the softness of her voice, the way she almost seems to pull everything about her in closer to herself to make her appear smaller than she actually is...I've seen it all before. And...Moon above, I want to do anything in my power to prevent the same story from being told twice.
I could not save my sister. Perhaps...perhaps I can still attempt to help Arios'. I still seem to require a good amount of saving myself, so I do not know how helpful I will prove, but...I must try. For Cynthia's sake.
I think I will visit her tomorrow.
()()()()
Jack was not entirely sure what exactly he was hoping to accomplish as he carefully made his way towards the room he knew was Cynthia's, both hands pressed against the icy wall beside him so that his still-wobbling legs would not eventually cause him to collapse. He was still in not much shape to be leaving his bed on his own (though he had, of course, done just that when no one else was looking), and he still was capable only of minimal speech, and specifically to a horse, at that. By all rights, he was as helpless as could be, and had no business trying to come to the aid of another.
Still, he knew in his heart that he had to try,
But try what, though? he silently asked himself as he took a short break, leaning against the wall and trying to catch his breath while also trying to ignore his own shame at being in such a pathetic, weakened state. I don't even have any sort of plan as to what I will do or say...er, write, that is. What can I even do for the poor girl…?
He honestly did not know, but he did know that no matter what his own circumstances were, he could not bring himself to sit idly by and merely watch a child suffer.
And to think...I previously thought them mad when they first named me a Guardian… he inwardly mused. I suppose my general thought process is quite in line with theirs, when it all comes down to it...
In any case, regardless of his own unfortunate uncertainties, he could not remain in the hallway thinking forever. He may not have known what he was going to do or say once he got there, but he knew that he had to go.
As such, Jack took a deep breath to steel himself, then walked the last few careful steps towards the girl's door. He gently knocked on its opaque, icy surface.
No response.
Admittedly, he had expected as much, and so he felt no impatience towards the silence. Instead, he calmly waited a few more seconds, then knocked again.
For a moment, he thought that there would yet again be no response, but after a brief hesitation, Cynthia's soft, wavering voice sounded from inside the room, just barely audible to Jack's sharp, elfin ears.
"Who...who is it…?"
Jack frowned. Now there was a difficult question. Or, rather, it was a question that was difficult to answer in his current voiceless state.
He was not entirely sure if Cynthia would be in a position in the room that would allow her to see a note slipped under the door, but he decided to operate under the assumption (or perhaps the hope) that she was. After quickly scribbling Jack onto a small piece of parchment, he bent down and slid it under the small gap between the door and the ground, making sure to rustle it as much as possible during the movement so that Cynthia would be sure to notice.
Another few long moments passed, and Jack was just beginning to fear that he would receive no response after all when he heard Cynthia's voice once again, somehow even quieter than before.
"...come in…"
The young girl sounded extremely reluctant, and Jack nearly gave up and drew away from the room completely, but after only a second's hesitation, he cast aside his uncertainty and gently eased the door open. I must not squander this invitation… he thought to himself as he entered Cynthia's room. If I don't do something now...I may not ever be able to.
When the boy looked around the room, the first thing his azure eyes fell upon was the huddled figure sitting on the bed. Cynthia somehow looked significantly smaller than she had before, her slight form almost completely hidden by the pale blue blanket draped around her shoulders. Her silvery hair was tangled and disheveled, clearly having not been properly cared for in a while, and the whites of her eyes were tinged red, no doubt from her tears.
Jack felt his heart break. He had known that the girl was in bad shape, but to see her in this state...it reminded him far too much of his own late sister's traumatized demeanor during the last few days he had been with her.
Not knowing what else to do, he silently nodded at her in greeting, sitting down in a chair across from her.
"Jack…" Cynthia whispered softly, dabbing at her damp eyes with the corner of her blanket. "Y-You're...you're here...a-are you...o-okay…?"
Jack frowned slightly, having intended to ask her the same. However, he did not reject her question, instead nodding again and writing, I still cannot speak...but I believe I am improving.
It wasn't a lie. At least, he didn't think it was. Thanks to the invaluable aid of magic and medicinal potions, his body was gradually growing stronger by the day, and he expected that he would be able to resume walking properly without his legs wobbling so badly within the next few days. His soreness was also beginning to ebb, and any residual wounds that Ebon had not already magically healed had closed up and scarred over by this point. Jack's voice was also growing stronger through his one-sided conversations with Zephyr, and though he still hadn't worked up the courage to speak in front of another person, he hoped to be able to do so relatively soon.
Overall, physically, he had indeed improved much since he had been freed from his cell (though it was perhaps mostly due to magic and his immortality rather than any strength or effort of his own).
Mentally, however...that was another story.
There was, of course, the issue of the mutism he had been conditioned into, which still seemed the most pressing matter. Unfortunately, however, his own forced silence was not the only problem he was forced to contend with: though they had certainly decreased in severity, his hallucinations had not fully left him.
It was true that he no longer saw the other Guardians' corpses lurking in the darkness, nor did he feel them clawing at his skin or clothes, trying to get his attention. Now that his mind had been thoroughly convinced that the four of them were all indeed still breathing, it no longer attempted to torment him with false visions of their bloodied corpses.
It instead seemed to switch tactics.
Jack had told no one of his new plight, nor had he even written it down in the personal notes he had begun taking, but ignoring the matter could not make it go away, it seemed. The fact remained that Jack had begun experiencing what he could only describe as nightmares...despite being awake the entire time. He had only experienced the phenomenon once, a couple of days before, but it had terrified him thoroughly, and even now, he still felt shaken from it.
One moment, he had been peace in the stables, sitting at Zephyr's side and whispering quietly to him, and the next, a loud splash sounded from the underground lake outside, and suddenly Jack was back in the cell, being forced under the scalding hot water until his lungs nearly gave out. A minute or so later, however, he came to his senses and was back in the stables, sprawled out on the ground, his horse nudging at him with his large white head and nickering concernedly. A second such episode had not yet come to pass so far, but Jack couldn't help but worry that his mind would not be so merciful as to let his peace continue.
Still, he dearly hoped that the strange occurrence would not happen again.
Suddenly, Jack became aware of the fact that he had yet to actually show Cynthia what he had written, and had been instead staring off into space, lost in thought, for some time now. Aiming to amend this, he quickly cleared his throat and shook his head to clear it, turning the parchment towards the girl and allowing her to read it.
Though her tense posture relaxed slightly, presumably with some small measure of relief at Jack's improvement, Cynthia's solemn expression did not change. "I-Improving…" she read quietly, frowning and looking into Jack's eyes uncertainly. "That's g-good, but...you still seem...hurt…"
Jack sighed. Leave it to the daughter of a doctor to understand these sorts of things despite her young age, he thought silently. I suppose I can't hide much from her…
Rather than try to convince the girl that he was just fine, as he often tended to do with the others, the boy simply wrote, You're right...I'm still hurt. But I think I'll be okay soon enough...meanwhile, I apologize for asking, but...how are you holding up…?
Cynthia flinched upon reading the last few words, and Jack inwardly lamented the fact that the inked words on the parchment could not convey any of the empathetic gentleness that a voice could. Oh, how he wished he could bring himself to speak…
"I…" The girl gulped, faltering momentarily before continuing. "I'm...not really okay...P-Papa and Arios...they're...th-they're gone…a-and I couldn't do anything...a-anything at all…"
Jack knew what that felt like. Memories of his burning village flickered through his mind: his friends and neighbors, either running panicked through the streets or charred corpses smoldering away in the flames; his parents, using their very last words to instruct him to take his sister and run; Olivia, begging him to go back for their mother and father until she was captured by fiends that would stop at nothing to make her life hell-and all Jack could do was run. Run for his life, in hopes that he would not meet a similar fate.
The young Guardian closed his eyes briefly, taking a few deep breaths to remind himself that he was not surrounded by smoke, and flames, and the dead. It was nothing more than a memory now.
When Jack opened his eyes once more, he was met with the sight of a fresh batch of tears welling in Cynthia's cerulean eyes, and the sound of her beginning to weep.
"I-I'm s-sorry…" she whispered weakly, voice and body both trembling with distress. "I-I c-couldn't do a-anything...I-I knew w-what that th-thing w-was...the th-thing th-that...p-possessed m-my brother...h-he told me b-before he p-put me to s-sleep...b-but I w-was too weak...I c-couldn't...I-I...I...c...c-couldn't…"
Jack's next actions were entirely dictated by the brotherly instinct he'd almost thought he had lost. As Cynthia dissolved completely into tears, he wordlessly stood up, took a few steps forward, and then sat down again, this time on the bed beside her, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side in a comforting embrace.
The scene was not wholly correct, of course. Cynthia was not Jack's sister. Jack was not Cynthia's brother. But at the moment, each one was the closest thing the other had. Even if they had not known each other for long, they both shared one thing in common: loss.
It had been some time since Jack had lost his family, but for Cynthia, the wounds were still unbearably fresh. Not only that, Jack also felt somewhat responsible for the death of Dr. Fletcher and wholly responsible for the reawakening of Ebon. His arrival was the catalyst that caused this girl so much pain...the least he could do was attempt to help her through it.
And so the boy held the younger girl gently as she wept, allowing her to lean into him for comfort, and to hold onto him as something of an anchor point to reality. Jack watched her, silently and sadly while she cried, his heart fracturing just a bit more with every anguished sob that wracked the poor girl's body.
And then, without thinking, he opened his mouth and spoke.
:O
...hope you all enjoyed :) Be sure to leave a review and tell me what you think (it really does help! :), and I'll see you guys in the next chapter!
For now, Sapphire316, out.
