Hey, guys! I'm so sorry that I'm so late - forced online college is really hard on the motivation...and time to do things - but welcome to the final chapter of RFL 2: Into the Dark! It's been a long time coming, for sure, but...it's finally here. Before I get to the reviews, I'd like to say a little something.
I realize that I've been...really bad with my schedule this time around. I've experienced three college semesters over the course of writing this story, and they all pretty much destroyed my free time and motivation to write while they were going on. Then, of course, there's the whole COVID debacle - I live in America, and obviously, we've been handling it very poorly, and as someone who already had anxiety and was a germaphobe before this...yeah, it's been rough. Because of all this, for a lot of the time, I didn't do a great job of keeping up with updates, and had a lot of unplanned hiatuses. For that, I'm really sorry, and I'll really and truly try to do better in future stories.
However, to everyone that still stuck by me through everything, to everyone who kept reading and reviewing, to everyone who favorited, followed, or even just took the time to glance at this story...thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You guys are seriously the sweetest, and I'm so happy to know that there are people out there who enjoy my writing :) You all kept me going, kept me determined to finish this story no matter what, and I love you all for that :)
As I've already confirmed, this story will have another sequel. Running for Life is a trilogy. I don't know exactly when I will start posting the third book (probably once I've already had a few chapters written so I have a buffer, haha), but it will happen, and I promise to try to do better with scheduling once I get to it. For now, though...we need to wrap up this story :) And to do that...let's get to the final batch of reviews before the end.
Thanks so much to Demi clayton, Guest (Sorry, I don't take story requests, especially not for a series I've never heard of), Taloness (Omg, thank you so much! Would messaging me on Instagram work for you? I'm sapphire_316 on there), Amiga do Vento (Thank you! And yes, there will be another sequel! :), and EveryFortressFalls (Oh trust me, Ebon is extremely fun to write XD And thank you so much, that's very sweet of you :) I'm glad you enjoyed!) for reviewing! And thank you to everyone that's reading this, reviewer or not. I love and appreciate each and every one of you :)
Now, finally...on to the last chapter of RFL 2: Into the Dark! Be sure to take a look at the official soundtrack afterwards, though ;)
Chapter 32: Moonlight
Jack couldn't bring himself to stand beside the rest of the Guardians during Sandy's pseudo-funeral. He attended, of course, but he remained back with the crowd of yetis, elves, and sprite refugees, watching as the other three lit candles and joined hands in solemn silence.
He felt awful, but he simply couldn't join them.
In the grand scheme of things, Jack hadn't known Sandy for a very long time. Though he had quickly grown to like the cheerful Sand-Spinner, he didn't feel right moving to stand alongside those that had been his comrades in arms for much, much longer. He would feel too much like an outsider, like an intruder that didn't deserve to be there.
Especially considering the nauseating waves of guilt that continued to wash over him as he watched the grim affair. He still couldn't accept the idea that he hadn't played a role in Sandy's death. How could he stand up there and mourn with the eldest Guardian's closest friends when he was certain that he was part of the reason the man was gone in the first place?
Even though he was sure the other Guardians would swear up and down that they held nothing against him, Jack knew that it would take a long time before he was able to forgive himself, before he would feel comfortable placing himself beside them again.
For the time being, despite being in the middle of a crowd, with Simon, Lily, and even Cynthia standing beside him, Jack felt very, very alone.
While most stood in silence, many of North's tiny elves were swaying slowly back and forth, the bells that hung from their hats ringing in an almost eerie melody. Jack's pointed ears twitched as he looked down at the floor, wishing that the elves would stop.
As guilty as it made him feel, a wave of relief washed over him when bells stopped and the crowd finally began to disperse. He wanted out. Guilt tightened his throat and made it difficult to swallow, his body felt heavy with fatigue, his arm still ached...he wanted nothing more than to leave so he could attempt some sort of recovery on his own (not that he was under any delusions that doing so would make him feel that much better).
And so he did. He didn't bother staying to talk with any of the others, he simply fled into the halls, eventually stumbling across the room that North had set up from him. He was extremely, desperately tired, and didn't have the energy to hold any more conversations at that time.
As much as he dreaded the nightmares that were sure to come, he knew he needed sleep.
Jack swiftly stepped inside the room, closed and locked the door, and leaned his staff up against the wall, fully prepared to collapse on his bed without even changing clothes. However, he hesitated at the last second once he saw Zephyr's saddlebags sitting on the nightstand.
I wonder… he thought idly.
After carefully placing the stuffed bear he had nearly forgotten he was still holding on his pillow, the boy opened one bag and reached inside. It took only a moment to find what he was looking for; a pale blue pouch, embroidered with silver snowflake designs.
The pouch of dreamsand that Sandy had given to him.
He felt a pang of sadness as he looked at the small pouch, but he quickly pushed his emotions away, instead gently opening it to check its contents. Sure enough, the tiny cloth bag was still nearly filled with shimmering, golden dreamsand.
Jack gave a long, slow exhale. So...it didn't corrupt, he acknowledged silently. If I need it...I still have this. He frowned. But...I doubt it will continue to replenish itself now that Sandy's...gone...I suppose I should save it…
With a sigh, he lightly tugged on the pouch's string, pulling it shut. The Sand-Spinner had once assured him that the dreamsand within it would multiply itself so that it would not run out, but he had no idea if that would still work now that the sand's source had been cut off.
He decided that he would prefer not to chance wasting it.
Without much more thought, he gently tossed the pouch back onto the nightstand and turned back towards his bed, ready for some much needed-rest. However, before he could even draw the blankets back, he was interrupted once again, this time by an odd, silvery sphere of light suddenly thrusting its way into his line of sight.
Jack blinked. The light bobbed in place for a bit, before abruptly shooting up and behind him, causing him to quickly lift his head and whirl around to follow its path.
"W-What the…?" he murmured incredulously as he stared at the spherical glow now swirling in circles around his room.
Though he was certainly confused, Jack found that he did not fear...whatever the light was. In fact, as he slowly sank down onto his bed while watching the silver sphere spin, he actually felt...calm. He felt peaceful, and content...and perhaps even a bit...sleepy…
A yawn forced its way out of his throat as he laid down on his side, curling up a bit as his head hit his pillow. Through vacant, half-lidded eyes, he lazily watched the silver light slowly drift its way down towards him, until it stopped to hover directly in front of his face.
For a moment, he was distinctly reminded of the moon.
Then, the sphere of light jerked forward, essentially colliding with his face, and dragged him fully into unconsciousness.
()()()()
Jack's eyes flashed open.
The first thing he noticed was that he was most definitely not in his room anymore. After all, his room was not located in a completely empty, silvery void.
That was just common sense.
The second thing he noticed was that he was no longer in bed-since, of course, for a void to be considered "completely empty," there couldn't be something like a bed there-and he was now lying on...something. Granted, it was something that seemed to be a floor, but it didn't look any different from the rest of wherever he was. Everywhere around him, there was nothing but vaguely swirling mist, all of it the same color of the sphere of light that had apparently taken him there.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
The third thing he noticed was by far the most interesting; he wasn't alone. As Jack slowly sat up, glancing around his odd new location, his eyes fell on a surprisingly familiar figure walking towards him. It was a man, somewhat shorter than Jack himself was, dressed in fine, silver robes, and still wearing one half of a broken full-moon mask.
Tsar Lunar.
Jack groaned as he lifted a hand to rub at his forehead in exasperation. "Of course…" he mumbled under his breath. "I should've known it was you…"
The Tsar stopped a few feet away from the boy, gazing down at him with a serene but distant look in his visible eye. "You do not seem pleased to see me, Jackson," he commented impassively.
"Well, in case you were unaware…" the boy grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. He gave the Tsar a dull look. "I don't like you very much."
"Mhm...trust me," the man stated disinterestedly. "I am well aware." He shook his head. "Although...I can't help but notice that you do not seem surprised to see me either. You know that I am imprisoned, yes? Bound in chains that restrict my magic? The very same chains I gave you and the others to seal away the Nightmare King in the first place, I might add. Why do you not question my ability to speak to you?"
Jack scoffed lightly. "You just gave me the answer," he deadpanned, gesturing vaguely at the Tsar. "You're bound with your own chains. With all your craftiness and planning ahead, there's no way you didn't devise some loopholes in the magic-sealing spell for yourself to take advantage of." As a realization struck him, Jack's eyes narrowed slightly. "...which leads me to ask: why did you let yourself go down so easily? I understand that your magic is still drained from removing the Fearling curse from me and granting me immortality, but...I don't believe for a moment that you wouldn't foresee disaster striking while you were recovering. So then...why allow yourself to be captured?"
The corner of Tsar Lunar's mouth twitched into a barely-visible smirk. "Clever boy," he acknowledged with a nod. "You are correct on both fronts: yes, my magic is not at its full strength, thanks to my recent use of copious amounts of energy. And yes, my being captured was a conscious decision." He folded his hands behind his back and inclined his head slightly, his expression still mostly blank. "It is a simple matter of energy conservation. Had I actively fought the Nightmare Army, I surely would have driven them back for now, but I would be left weaker than before. They would no doubt retreat to lick their wounds for a time, then return again for another try. I may have been able to rout them a second, perhaps a third time, but proceeding in such a way would only cause my power to continuously diminish, until they would be able to finally defeat me while I was actually out of commission."
The thought to make a snarky comment regarding the Tsar's apparent high confidence in his own ability to single-handedly drive back the Nightmare Army two or three times briefly crossed Jack's mind, but he let it pass. Judging by what the Tsar had accomplished in the past, his estimation likely wasn't that far off.
Instead, the young Guardian's dark eyebrows furrowed as the truth began to dawn on him. "So instead of letting yourself actually be worn down...you decided to surrender now and conserve your strength." He frowned. "So why bother talking to me now? Isn't this a waste of energy?"
"Jackson, I believe you're overestimating the amount of power it takes for me to communicate through a dream," the Tsar replied nonchalantly. "It is quite a trivial spell, actually. Even while my body is unconscious thanks to those chains, my mind and soul were able to perform it quite easily."
Jack's expression dulled considerably. "Right, right, you're all-powerful and amazing," he deadpanned with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "All hail you. Now I'd prefer it if you'd get to the point instead of preening yourself."
Tsar Lunar's visible eyebrow arched. "You know, Jackson, most people would show a bit more respect to their elder, direct superior, and ruler of their land," he commented.
"Yes, well, after all the hell you've put me through, I figure I've earned the right to a healthy amount of disrespect for you," Jack retorted, arms crossed. "Now answer my damn question. Why bother talking to me at all? Why not one of the others? Or why not just stay silent and leave everyone in the dark, as usual?"
Much to Jack's chagrin, the Tsar uncaringly sidestepped the question again, instead posing a query of his own. "Leave everyone in the dark, as usual, you say?" he asked with mild curiosity. "What do you mean, exactly?"
The boy scowled. "Well, let's see," he began through clenched teeth as he held up a hand to begin counting on his fingers. "First, you come to my village in disguise, secretly choose me to be a Guardian, then save me and me alone when my home was burned to the ground. Second, you leave me on my own in the wilderness for for six years to "build character," or whatever you called it, leaving me completely clueless as to why I was even still alive. Third, you tell me I'm to become a Guardian - and then nothing else, I might add - which evidently, even the other Guardians didn't know, considering you initially sent them to kidnap me. Fourth, you just happen to set us on a path that leads us not only right to my little sister, but also to the remains of my village, which makes it painfully obvious that you were deliberately pulling the strings the whole time, all while keeping an eye on us and telling us absolutely nothing. And fifth, let me take a wild guess here and say that it wasn't pure chance that I conveniently happened to be sent on a mission that took me directly over a hidden, underground city of snow sprites. You had to have known it was there. There is no possible way that I found it by mere coincidence. Am I wrong?"
For a moment, the Tsar merely looked at Jack, expression still frustratingly impassive. Then, he gave a light huff that could have been his version of a chuckle. "My, my...such a long tirade. And...hm. Not a "'tis" or a "'twas" in sight."
Jack's temper flared. He marched straight up to the Tsar, grabbed him by the front of his robes, and leaned down to glare into the man's visible eye. "'Tis none of your concern how I speak," he growled. "Answer. The. Question."
The Tsar's eye narrowed slightly. He remained silent for a few tense moments before murmuring, "No. You are not wrong. Every part of your journey thus far has been carefully orchestrated by myself...aside from, of course, your torture at the hands of that Fearling. That was merely an unfortunate, unforeseen circumstance. As for your previous questions, though...why bother speaking to you? And why you in particular? Well, Jackson...you have always been my secret weapon." The man pushed Jack's hands away from his silver robes and stepped back out of the boy's reach, still studying him with that one, infuriatingly perceptive eye.
Jack scowled. "Your secret weapon…" he repeated darkly. "Well, at least that confirms where I stand with you. Just a weapon, I suppose." He shook his head, frustrated. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not much of a secret anymore. The Nightmare King knows me all too well."
"Mhm...indeed he does." Tsar Lunar lifted his hand, a silver sphere of light beginning to form above his outstretched palm. "However...he does not know about this."
The light suddenly streaked forward, pausing right in front of Jack's chest. It darted to the side, then down, then back the other way, forming the shape of a crescent moon in the air. Then, it made contact with Jack, seeming to seep into his chest.
Almost immediately, a searing pain coursed through his form.
A scream tore itself from his throat as he dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest with both hands as if it would somehow help. For whatever reason, something in him did not want the Tsar's magic to touch him at all, let alone fully enter his body.
The pain persisted for less than a minute, but it was enough to leave him shaking and gasping for air on the ground. After a few deep, rattling breaths, he managed to stammer, "W-What...the h-hell...was that!?"
"Hm...it is as I feared," the Tsar commented lightly, more to himself than to Jack. "There is a darkness within you. It is not yet strong enough to fully repel my magic, but...it is there."
Jack stared up at him, not comprehending. "A...A darkness…? W-What...what do you mean…?"
Tsar Lunar only shook his head. "Do not concern yourself with it for now. As long as my magic resides within you, you should be fine. I have granted you my protection again - for the time being, no creature of the Nightmare Army will be able to kill you. However, at my current energy levels, it would not be wise to grant you more than one use of it. Do not squander it, understand?"
The young sprite still had questions regarding this "darkness" within him, but he did not ask. I know better than to expect any straight answers out of him, he thought bitterly.
Aloud, he said, "Sure. I understand. But...why do this again? Why me? The Nightmare King knows me, knows what I'm capable of. If he really wants to kill me, he'll surely just do it twice."
The Tsar gave a light chuckle. "Jackson, my boy...how could the Nightmare King know what you are capable of if you yourself barely know?"
Jack blinked. "...what?"
"Consider this: you have only had full access to your magic for the past few months. You do not quite have a grasp on how powerful you truly are. You are not only a snow sprite, but now an immortal Guardian with an increased capacity for magic. Your confidence is a bit...lacking, but you should have ample time to work that out before you need to fight again."
Jack decided to ignore the Tsar's last comment, instead quietly mulling over the rest of his words. "I...suppose that makes sense…" he mumbled. "But still...you could have contacted any of the others. North, Tooth, Aster..." He had to physically restrain himself from saying Sandy's name. "Why...why come to only me? Usually, I'm the only one who doesn't get to talk to you."
The Tsar shrugged nonchalantly. "You seemed to be the one that needed the most help." He arched his one visible eyebrow. "And...I believe I can trust you to keep this meeting a secret. Nicholas, Aster, and Toothiana would no doubt confide in one another...and while there is nothing inherently wrong with that, conversations may be overheard by anyone at all. I cannot risk any of our enemies discovering that I am not as incapacitated as I seem. You, Jackson...you will keep this to yourself, no?"
Jack's eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, he considered refusing out of pure spite. He knew, however, that the Tsar had a point - ideally, the workshop's magical barrier would keep out any unsavory types, but when dealing with enemies that could lurk unseen in the shadows, one could never be too careful.
"...I will," the boy agreed finally. "No one will know."
Tsar Lunar nodded his approval. "Good. Now...I have sensed the disappearance of Sanderson's magic, which means there are now only four Guardians once again...as such, you will need to be extremely careful. All of you, take the time to rest, recover, and gather forces to fight back against the Nightmare Army. Be as clandestine as possible. Swiftness is important, but rush too much and you may very well be caught and either killed or possessed." Here, what little of the Tsar's expression that Jack could see beneath the broken mask turned deadly serious. "The Nightmare King has taken you before, Jackson, and I would not be surprised if he tried to do it again. I do not have the power required to save you this time, should you be turned into a Fearling, and a transformed Guardian is a much greater threat than any sort of transformed mortal. You and the other three must not be reckless. If even one of you is turned, the fight instantly becomes astronomically more difficult. Do you understand me?"
An anxious lump was forming in Jack's throat, but he quickly swallowed it and pushed his nerves away for the time being. "...I understand," he responded stiffly. "We...we will be as careful as possible."
The Tsar nodded once more. "I expect as much. However...when you are finally ready for battle, I would advise against storming the palace from the front. Instead, go to the back, where there is what looks like a solid silver wall. Though most of the wall shines, close to the ground, you will find a slightly dulled spot. If either myself or a Guardian touches it for about three seconds, a portal to the interior will be opened, and you may enter through there. I have never had need of this secret entrance before, and so the other Guardians do not know of its existence. Do not speak of it until it is absolutely necessary, alright?"
Jack nodded. "Alright."
"Mhm...good. I am trusting you with this. Do not let me down." The Tsar glanced around thoughtfully, even though there was nothing in particular to look at. "I believe I have kept you long enough for now," he said finally. "I will likely contact you in this way again in the future, but for now, I must rest and conserve what remains of my magic. Thank you for doing this for me, Jackson, despite how you feel about me."
The young Guardian scoffed lightly. "I'm not exactly doing this for you, you know," he pointed out. "None of this was ever about you. It's about the other Guardians. It's about Simon, Lily, and Cynthia. It's about all of the refugees of New Iskald. It's about every child in the Tsardom - no, every person in the Tsardom. Everyone suffers if we fail. Everyone's lives depend on what we do next. I don't particularly care about what happens to you, but I care about all of the innocent people currently hanging in the balance. So no...none of what I'm doing is for you. It's for just about everyone else."
Tsar Lunar eyed him for a moment, then smirked in mild amusement. "'It's' for everyone else, hm?"
Jack's expression dulled. "Really, now? My accent is what you focus on." He scowled and brought a hand up to rub his forehead. "Figures that I still can't have a proper conversation with you…"
"I'm afraid I do not know what you mean," the Tsar replied innocently. "But either way...this is farewell for now." His form began to fade a bit, and the silver mist swirling around the area began to swell. When the Tsar spoke next, his voice sounded somewhat distant. "I trust that you are up to the task of preparing for this fight, yes? You will see this through?"
Jack slowly lowered his hand and looked over at the Tsar's half-translucent form. Though the fog was thickening around him, he managed to lock gazes with the Tsar a final time before he faded entirely. The snow sprite's azure eyes narrowed in determination.
"...'Tis my pleasure."
~The End~
Just to reiterate...thank you so much, to everyone who stuck with this story until the end :) I don't know when the third book in the trilogy will be posted, but in the meantime, I also do some art sometimes! My Instagram is sapphire_316 for anyone who cares (there's honestly mostly Zelda stuff on there right now, but there are a few Jack drawings, haha)! Either way, though...enjoy the soundtrack on the next page, and I'll hopefully see you guys soon for the last book in the RFL trilogy.
Until then...Sapphire316, out.
