Sophie Overland being born would indeed be one of the happiest days of Jack's life... and the saddest. She arrived in late July of 1831, making Jack almost eight years older than her.

He'd been Emily's shadow during her later stages of pregnancy, helping out as much as he could with household work and sometimes finishing cleaning up all by himself on days she felt too tired.

It would warm her heart on days he said, "You rest, Mama. I'll go sweep!" He would proceed to sweep the entire house while she relaxed in bed. It wasn't as though he had much else occupying him, but Jack did this out of the love he had for his mother and his worry about her and the baby both being safe the day she was born.

That winter following her announcement, Jack would bring her an extra blanket so she and the baby would be warm. Sometimes Emily was almost moved to tears. Such a loving little boy... What a wonderful friend the village children would have if only—

No, don't think about that. He'll have a brother or sister soon, and that's all he'll need!

The day his sister was born, the very doctor who had done a last-minute check-up on Jack seven years ago helped deliver her. Jack was told to wait in his room, Nicholas assured him everything would be all right. Though there had been painful moans and bloody sheets, Emily delivered a healthy baby girl. She was completely covered in sweat, her face was flushed, and she was taking deep breaths as the doctor let her be the first to hold baby Sophie.

When the doctor left, Nicholas walked with Jack into their room.

"Hello, my sweet girl." Emily whispered to Sophie, cradling her in her blanket. "Nicholas, isn't she beautiful?"

Nicholas was in awe of his newborn daughter, as he had been with his son years ago, "The most beautiful little girl in the world."

Jack peered over the bed, desperate to see Sophie's face. Oh, she was so adorable! She was so tiny! Had he been that small too? Jack slightly leaned onto the bed and reached out to touch Sophie's hand—

"Jackson! Don't!" Nicholas took his hand away, panic surging over him as Emily herself was taken aback.

"Nicholas," she chided rather briskly. Her son's heartbroken face ruined the entire moment.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He whimpered, backing away.

"No, no. I'm sorry," Nicholas said, "but... we want to wait before we let you touch her. We can't let her get cold."

"I won't make her cold!" Jack assured, even though the room was already chillier.

Emily hated to do this, but Nicholas was correct. Holding Sophie closer, she said in a gentler voice, "Sweetheart, your father's right. For now, just... go play in your room. She won't do anything but sleep for now anyway."

Jack silently backed out towards the doorway. He hid the fact he was fighting tears as he walked back into his room.

...

Emily rocked Sophie in her chair while singing her favorite lullaby to her, the one she had sang for Jack as well.

Vyssan lull, mine kjære små.
På himmelen reiser mange stjerner.
Månens stråler danser
på den buede broen,
Og tåken flyter
på den fjærlette sølvskoen,
Og ønsketidsdrømmer kommer og går.

Vyssan lull, mine kjære små.
I verden er det sorg og glede.
Du har mye å lære,
lite forstår du ennå.
Vær rask med å gi,
og forventer å ikke få,
Når ønskedrømmer kommer og går.

Some nights, she would sing, others, she would hum the tune. Either way, it was one that would always remind her children of a mother's love.

Although he was supposed to be in bed, Jackson was peering into the nursery to see his mother and sister. He wished he could rock her to sleep just once, or get to help put her to bed. It had been two months now, and still he could only watch her from afar and try to make her giggle with her toys.

Tonight, Emily was having trouble getting Sophie to quiet down, and she'd tried everything from feeding her, to changing her diaper (although it was completely dry) to resorting to begging under her breath for her to go to sleep. Jack wondered if maybe tonight there was a way he could help.

He still had a small teddy bear that Emily made for him when he was a baby. Maybe Sophie would want it. Taking it from his nightstand, Jack walked into the nursery where Emily spotted him, "Oh, honey, I'm sorry to keep you awake." Her eyes were dark-lined and her voice was scratchy—she was the one in need of some sleep.

Jack shook his head, "I wanna give this to her." Emily had almost forgotten about that stuffed bear she'd made for Jack; it was just one of many toys she'd made herself. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Well, let's see." At this point, Emily would try anything. She gingerly took it out of Jack's hand and grinned at Sophie, "Honey, look! Your big brother brought you a present!"

Showing her the bear, Sophie's fussing dwindled, her eyes focused on the tiny object and her small hands reached out for it. Emily beamed at Jack, who was lighting up as he watched the scene play out. Sophie was grateful for the new friend and when Emily placed her into her crib with it, Sophie cuddled quietly with it.

Emily and Jack gazed at her from behind the bars. "Look at you, being my best helper." She ruffled Jack's tousled hair; he was simply a natural with her already. "Gods, you never cried that much. You were always so calm, even when you were a little baby." She noticed the elusive sadness in his eyes and she knelt to his height, "Sweetie?"

"Mom, does Sophie love me?"

"Of course she does!"

"But how? She never really sees me. I don't get to play with her like you said I would."

Emily held his cheek, "I promise one day, when we're sure it's safe, you will. But know this, Sophie feels your love. Even if you're not holding her, she can tell just how much you love her. That's why she loves you too." She could see in her son's face that he wanted to ask something else, but was struggling to keep his lips together. "Jack, what is it?"

"Will she... Do you think..." He paused a moment longer, "Will she have powers too?"

Emily tensed, "I don't know the answer to that, min elskede."

"If she does, would you let me play with her?"

"Jack," she took both of his shoulders, "that's something we're not gonna talk about." She tried to be firm, but knowing she was hurting her son's heart made it difficult. She cupped his face, "Your father and I love you both just the same, powers or no."

"...How come I have powers and nobody else does?" Jack's eyes went glassy, "What's wrong with me, Mama?"

"Oh, Jack," she held him tightly and he did her, "nothing is wrong with you."

"Then why can't I go to school? Why can't I have friends? Why can't I hold my sister?"

"Shhsshh, sweetheart, please," Emily rasped, choking up. "It's not you, it's other people. We just want to protect you from them. I can't let anybody hurt you over something they don't understand." She pulled away and looked into his eyes, "If you were to go outside and show anybody your powers, even by accident, they wouldn't see you. They'd only see your magic, they think it's a bad thing. Do you understand that your father and I can't let anyone take you away from us?"

Jack hesitated, then nodded, not fully comprehending the emotional weight of it all. As smart of a child he was, Jack was still only a seven-year-old.

"It's not your fault that they're this way. Truly, I wish the world could see your powers and how beautiful they are."

Jack pulled away from her. "You always say that!" His loud voice was beginning to rouse Sophie, who whined softly. Jack remembered then, always keep his emotions in check. Whenever he got like this, the room would get cold, and sometimes it would rain snow from their own ceiling. He tried to calm himself, but he was too angry. He went to his bedroom and slid his back down his shut door. He wished he could take the magic back.

He wished he'd been born normal like his sister had, and every other child in the world.

...

Nicholas rocked Jack back and forth, "Just calm down. It's all right." His shaking, sobbing son held him tightly as he breathed heavily to try and catch his breath.

In the other room, Emily was trying to comfort Sophie, who Jack had woken up with his piercing screams. Her cries were welcoming to Jack's ears, however. They told him she was alive.

"It was only a dream." Nicholas said, holding the back of Jack's head to his chest. "That's all it was." The boy's grip began to loosen and his breathing slowed. "Everything's fine." They looked to the door and saw Emily with the whining Sophie.

"Jack?" She'd wanted to comfort him, but Jack instead pulled away from his father and hid under the blankets. He wanted in no way to harm his sister. "Sweetheart, it's all right." She came close, which made Jack tense up. Nicholas looked at her; was this a good idea? Emily thought so. She sat down on the bed. "I think someone wants to see you."

Jack peeked out from the blanket and eyed his three-month-old sister. Her cherubic face was still warm and rosy, not pale and sallow like in his dream. He'd tried to play with her and made her cold; then she became sick. The terror of his parents panicking to save her had felt too real and Jack's own fear made the house colder.

Emily lightly kicked Nicholas's leg so he'd encourage their son. Though reluctant, he said, "Show her that you're all right, Jackson." Jack couldn't believe this. He looked up at him as if to ask if he was serious—to get his blessing one more time. "Go ahead." He said tenderly.

At a glacial pace, Jack crawled out from under the blanket and was handed Sophie from his mother's tentative arms. "There, like this," she showed him how to cradle her, "support her head." For the first time, Jack held his baby sister. He took his first good look at her face and she did him. Sister. Brother.

"Am I holding her right?" He quietly asked, to which Emily gave him a relieved nod.

"See? You can't hurt her."

"Just be careful." Nicholas threw in, which made Emily glower at him. He trusted his son, but with how easily he seemed to lose control, one couldn't be too careful. He realized his error and cleared his throat, "Babies are very delicate. You have to be gentle with them." He fixed his statement.

Jack daintily felt her face, "She's so soft." Emily giggled at the wonder in his eyes. It was his first time holding a baby... She had longed for this moment where he got to hold his little sister. "Does this mean I can play with her now?"

Both of his parents grimaced. "Well..." Emily twiddled her fingers, "She's a bit too young to really play."

"I can read to her and feed her," Jack suggested. All he was asking for was minimal interaction! Not even getting to hold their baby brother or sister was lunacy to any sibling. If only they knew Jack's predicament.

Nicholas held his shoulder, "Son, we'll let you hold her if we're there to watch... But I'm afraid everything else will have to wait." He'd nearly frozen his entire bed just minutes ago! It wasn't completely unreasonable for Nicholas to be cautious. For Jack, it was just another way to delay his happiness.

Still, he was sure time would go by quickly, and sooner than ever, Sophie would be the best playmate in the world... His only playmate.

...

"Again!" Sophie cheered.

"Okay, okay!" Jack laughed, flipping back to the beginning of her book. He read what had become Sophie's favorite even though she was only two. "Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else. So she was always called Little Red Riding Hood."

"Uff!" She chirped, pointing to the picture of the wolf. She was trying to say ulv.

"Ulv." Jack corrected, seeing if she would follow along. He made sure she knew to make the V sound. He read onto the next page before Emily opened the door to Sophie's bedroom where she found them both on her bed.

"I thought I heard you two in here."

Jack closed the book. He wasn't supposed to go into Sophie's room without permission, "Hi, Mom..." He blushed.

"Big bad wolf!"

Emily knew exactly what she was talking about, "Oh, is big brother reading you Little Red Riding Hood?"

"Uh-huh!"

Jack still looked guilty, "She wanted me to, Mom. Really."

Emily sighed, "I believe you." She sat down between them on the bed. Sophie crawled into her lap. She loved to snuggle with her Mama. "It's somebody's bedtime." She said to her daughter.

"No." She whined.

"Oh, yes it is." She picked her up. "Jack's gonna go to bed too." She winked at him.

"Oh, yeah!" He played along. "I'm sooo tired!" He dramatically collapsed onto Emily's lap and she rolled her eyes.

"A little less drama next time." She teased and he rolled off, laughing.

"Jack night night." Sophie cooed, reaching for his sleeve. His eyes widened.

Emily said, "You want Jack to sing you night night?"

"Yeah."

Jack reddened. He wasn't used to singing. "Um– Mom's a better singer..."

"I dunno, I think you sing pretty sweetly when you think Mama can't hear you." Emily smirked. Jack blushed even harder.

"Jack sing night night!" Sophie insisted again. He usually just hummed to her, since he wasn't comfortable singing with his mother or father watching, but now she was begging for him.

"All right," he acquiesced, "which one should I sing?"

"Just sing whatever comes to mind." Emily assured and laid Sophie next to him. It amazed her how much she already looked like her brother; big brown eyes and chestnut-brown hair, even with the same freckles on their faces.

Taking a moment to work up the courage to sing in front of his mother, Jack began.

Nå i ro slumre inn,
lille hjertevenn' min.
Når du legger deg ned,
vil til drømmenes sted
dine tanker fly hen
til du vekkes igjen,
dine tanker fly hen,
til du vekkes igjen.

Visst en engel du ser,
når i drømme du ler,
som i lysende prakt
ved din seng står på vakt,
og med kyss på din munn
vugger ømt deg i blund.
og med kyss på din munn
vugger ømt deg i blund.

The lullaby, sung in Jack's soft voice, put Sophie right to sleep. Jack beamed, proud at how quickly he could put her to bed. Emily touched his shoulder, "Now, little darling, let's get you to bed."

...

The boy of nine years woke up in the middle of the night to find his entire bedroom gone. In front of his bed, there was a maze made of ice.

"Mom? Dad?" He timidly called, afraid to enter. It appeared he had nowhere to go but into the labyrinth if he wanted to find them. Jack looked down at his hands. Did I make this?

Climbing out of bed, he wandered inside and was met with twisting pathways and dead-ends. He purposefully left patterns of frost with every step he took, letting him know where'd been, but it seemed no matter where he turned, he couldn't find his way out.

Holding himself, Jack began to shake. He called for his parents again, his voice echoing against the walls. What if he'd trapped them inside in his sleep? He had to get them out quickly! Jack then realized how foolish he was being.

He didn't have to follow this maze's rules—it was made of ice.

Jack moved his hands smoothly across the air and created archways that took him straight across the valley of snow.

The deeper he went, the calmer he felt even though his family was nowhere in sight. Perhaps they were somewhere safe. Feeling curious, Jack began to experiment with his powers.

He created geometric shapes with the snow and started building small creations. To reach the end of the maze, he had to create certain patterns and shapes.

Hexagons.

Birds.

Baskets.

Carriages and horses.

Houses for families.

Castles for kings.

Mountains.

Planets.

Jack created everything that was being thrown at him, the creations getting bigger, his hands moving faster. His mind and powers were spiraling, creating a burst of light all around him, and then...

He woke up with a start.

Jack was shocked to find himself back in his bed, confused about what had just happened. Was it really only a dream? He couldn't fathom how real it had felt.

Beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. What a dream it was! Breathlessly looking down at his hands, he wondered, was he really that powerful? Could he make all those things with his magic? If he could, how would he ever know?

He supposed he shouldn't linger too much on a silly dream. Lying back down, calming himself, Jack tried to go back to sleep. He wanted to have his favorite dream; the dream where he was playing with friends in the snow.

Days later, the boy had another wild dream. The dream most likely came from reading the Poetic Edda before bed, as Jack stood at the edge of Bifrost, unallowed to return to Midgard unless he obeyed Odin's orders.

The dream was vivid; constellations twinkled above him and the landscape of Asgard was high in the clouds with a magnificent castle floating above the ground. Instead of getting to explore the realm as any curious child would love to, Jack was scared. He would never see his family again if he didn't succeed in Odin's challenges.

He created the ice sculptures Odin demanded of him. He counted all of the bread in the kitchen and delivered it to each God in their respective rooms. Jack kept dropping the bread and would be yelled at to bring them a new loaf when he did. He pulled all the weeds in the massive garden. Then, Odin told him to capture every bird in the sky, but Jack couldn't... there were no birds! Odin wouldn't accept this, and in his desperation to get home, Jack created a bridge so he could reach Midgard on his own.

The world grew dark and his bridge began to shatter. Odin was enraged, and being only a child, Jack panicked. His fear caused snow to fall and ice to spiderweb at his feet.

"You will never return to the human world!" Shouted Odin, causing the tearful child to cower. Ice was spreading all over Asgard. "You will stay in Niflheim, the land of all things cold and dark, where freaks like you belong!"

Jack was bawling, "Please! Give me another chance! I want to go home!" He pleaded. He wanted to see his family again! Ice was growing all around him, his powers spiraling out of control. Asgard was falling apart. "Mom! Dad! Help me!"

Odin descended from the clouds. He forcefully grabbed Jack's shoulders and said—

"Wake up!"

Jack's eyes flew open with a startled cry and a full-body twitch. It was not Odin, but his father who'd been shaking him. "Wake up." He repeated, softly but sternly. There was a hint of terror in his eyes. Jack noticed his father's visible breath and he looked around to see ice had climbed so high up the walls it was almost touching the ceiling. The frame of his bed was coated in frost and spikes of ice littered the floor.

Nicholas had been trying to wake Jack for a good five seconds before he finally succeeded. They were the longest five seconds of his life as he watched the ice nearly consume his son's bedroom. "You were having a nightmare."

"I'm sorry." He panted.

"No, no," he took his face, "don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Breathing heavily, Jack raised his hands and removed all the frost and snow. Soon, his bedroom was back to its normal self, except the wooden boards of his bed were dripping with water.

Panic settled in the boy's sorrowful face, "Did Sophie see?"

"No, she's asleep. Your mother is too."

The boy leaned into his father's chest, "I was in Asgard, it was like it was real! Odin said I had to finish his tasks if I wanted to go home. I couldn't, then he got mad at me and—"

Nicholas sighed, "Jack. It was only a dream."

"But I got scared! When I get scared, I make it cold, and—"

"Shh..." He gently touched a finger to his lips. "Calm down. Worrying about it won't help. The dream's over. Don't think about it anymore." Nicholas then had a thought. "Do you have nightmares often?"

"No?"

"All right." Nicholas pushed aside some of Jack's wild hair. "If something's ever bothering you, you can tell your mother or me. You know that, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Okay," he whispered and leaned in to kiss the top of his head, "go back to sleep, Jackson." Before he could stand to leave, Nicholas nudged something with his foot. He smirked, "Huh," he picked up a small book, "I think I found the culprit." He was holding up Jack's copy of the Poetic Edda, worn from years of reading.

"I like that book." Jack said, eagerly taking it. "You used to read it to me."

"Looks like I should regret ever teaching you how to read." He joked, ruffling his son's dark hair.

"...Do you ever get bad dreams, Papa?"

"Of course. Everyone does."

"Do they make you scared?" Jack innocently asked.

"They do, but only for a moment." Nicholas replied. "What I do is I put it out of my mind as soon as it's over. You'll be able to do it too." He reassured, scratching his son's chin. "Good night."

"Good night, Papa." He grinned, feeling better about falling back asleep. Nicholas closed the door behind him and Jack set the book on his nightstand. Although he'd been instructed to not think of the dream, it was all that went through Jack's mind. What still puzzled him was how he had full control of his magic in most of his dreams.

Yet in this one, he could barely get it to obey him. It was as if it had a will of its own. But that was just a silly dream; Jack knew he could control his powers... And his family still didn't believe it enough to let him go to school and play outside like all of the other children.

Jack tried to take his father's words to heart; don't think about it anymore. Jack chased away all thoughts of his bad dream and was able to close his eyes so he could fall into an easy sleep. He didn't dream again that night.

...

As Jack grew older, reaching his teen years, he earned some privileges to go outside. He would step out the back of his house to help his father chop wood or rake up leaves.

They were menial tasks, but for Jack to finally feel the sun on his face and smell the fresh air, it meant everything. By the time he'd turned twelve, Jack became used to his new chore list and would work efficiently to get them done. Sophie was four now, and would sometimes ask why Jack couldn't go to village parties with her and their mother or play outside with her. Nicholas would make up that Jack would go out with him to help with the mill or take the goats up the mountain.

Really, he was at home, hiding in his room like always. Jack had proven he could keep his powers in check, but it was still too much of a risk for his parents to take. That was their excuse, anyway. When he wasn't doing work around the house, Jack did a lot of reading. If it wasn't his school books, it'd be one of the novels his mother had let collect dust on the shelves.

Reading was also a nice distraction from the strange things that had been happening. In just one summer, Jack grew taller, he couldn't get through a single sentence without his voice cracking... and his crotch seemed to have a mind of its own. Many-a-morning, he woke up with a surprise under the sheets and was too embarrassed and confused to inquire his father about it.

Jack was also more antsy to explore—not that he hadn't wanted to see the world before, but it was becoming almost maddening to not be able to leave his home, get away from his parents for just a minute and be around other people. Yes, he knew he was different than most pre-teens as it was, but he would like to have someone his age to talk to about what he was going through to see if they were experiencing the same thing.

Then there were the other questions he had... Like what did kissing a girl feel like? Why did boys and girls kiss? He'd asked his mother when he was much younger why grown-ups kiss on the lips and she would give him the generic 'because adults like to' answer. He'd always been told he'd understand when he was older... Now he was older and he understood nothing.

Apparently, it was called 'adolescence.' Jack wished he could skip the entire thing.

He didn't feel much different otherwise; he still saw himself as the kid that liked to play with his sister. He still read to her at night and would sometimes put on small plays based on her storybooks together. Sophie was naturally more exuberant and extroverted than Jack, so it was a relief that she had no powers that needed to be hidden.

Sophie could have as many friends as she wanted when she got older, and even already had some playmates she saw on the regular. It would be a lie if Jack said it didn't irk him sometimes. Sometimes he'd find himself being angry at her, even though he knew it wasn't her fault.

If only he could tell her... He'd bet Sophie would love his magic. If Sophie told anyone, he knew that the adults would all think it was the imaginative ramblings of a young child. Showing her should be safe enough, but he couldn't bring himself to upset his parents. It had been a long twelve years for them as well.

...

"Jack...? Jack."

"Mm..."

"Jack!"

Jack startled awake, he'd just been a deep sleep. "Huh? What?"

His five-year-old sister was at the edge of his bed. "I can't sleep. I'm scared"

Jack stared at her blankly for a moment. She'd woken him up instead of their parents? Part of him was too tired to deal with this, but the other couldn't turn away her sad gaze. "It's okay." He rasped, rubbing his eyes. "Let's get you back to bed." He said, removing his blanket.

She took his hand and walked him back to her room. "I can't find my teddy."

Jack yawned, "It's somewhere..." He was half-asleep, his eyelids were drooping in their desire to stay closed for another four hours. Sophie climbed into her bed and Jack knelt down to check for her toy under the bed.

"Jack, stop!" She suddenly cried.

"What?" He jerked up, his voice still dripping with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look under the bed! The Boogeyman's down there!"

Even though he was exhausted, Jack still creased his brow in confusion when he heard those words. "Where'd you hear that?"

"My friends at school say they saw him! He hides under their beds!"

Jack shook his head. "Don't be silly. The Boogeyman's not real." He then stuck his arm under the bed and felt the soft teddy that had gone missing. He presented it to her. "There. See?" Sophie beamed and immediately clutched the teddy to her chest. Seeing her so happy made Jack grin. "Now then, I think it's time for me to go back to sleep."

"Wait!" She yanked on the back of his shirt and Jack sighed.

"What?"

"What if the Boogeyman is real and he comes out after you leave?"

"I'm sure someone in the house would hear you." He joked, his half-asleep brain not remembering he was talking to a five-year-old. She gasped and hid under her blanket. "I'm kidding!" He tried to pull her out, but she wouldn't move. "Sophie, the Boogeyman's not real. Even if he was, I'd never let him get you."

"You promise he's not real?"

Jack snorted. "Promise."

Sophie peered out from her blanket. She didn't look totally convinced. Jack put himself in her mindset and he knew the perfect remedy. "What if I tell you a secret that Mom and Dad don't even know?" Her brown eyes glimmered. She peeped her head out even more and Jack leaned in like he didn't want anyone else to hear. "That teddy bear is magic. It protects you from monsters."

Even at her young age, Sophie was skeptical. She gave him a telling look.

Smarter than I thought. Jack laughed, "Really! It kept me safe when I was little, but since I don't need it anymore, I gave it to you. But," he held up his finger, "he can only protect you when you're asleep. That's when he comes to life and fights off the bad guys."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen him do it, but only once. It's because I was pretending to be asleep. He fought away a Huldra that tried to get into my room."

Sophie's face glowed with wonder. "Whoa!"

"Now, get to bed." He ordered.

"I will!" She tucked herself snug, holding her teddy. "I'm gonna try and see teddy come to life."

"Well, don't let him see you looking. He's shy."

"Mhm! Now go! I gotta pretend to go to sleep!"

"Okay, okay!" He laughed at her persistence. "G'night, Soph."

"I love you, Jack." She said.

"Love you too." Finally, he left her room and fell flat onto his bed. Before he fell asleep, he thought to himself how easy it was to make children believe in magic.

If only she knew magic was real...

One day. He told himself. One day I'll show her my powers.

...

That day came.

One horrid January night Jack and his family would never forget. One that had the villagers hiding their children out of fear that the warlock would take them. One that threw the Overland home into disarray, as they dealt with searching for their missing son (who was only a fourteen-year-old boy) and the mob of frenzied neighbors pounding at their doors demanding answers.

For three and a half years, it would be misery.

...

In the desolate, winter valley, Nicholas trudged against the ankle-deep snow and piercing winds that raged against his skin.

"Jackson!" His voice was an echo across the bustling mountains. "Jackson!" For how long would he be doing this? What good would finding his son do if he died along the way? Just to know he's alive or... the other option, that'd be enough.

Jackson was smart, he was resourceful... But he'd never seen the outside world for what it is. All he knew about survival was what he read in books and stories Nicholas himself told him. His sheltered life was Nicholas' own fault, and now it was about to be his son's own doing.

"Jackson! I—" The strangest thing happened to Nicholas on the mountain pass that moment. His voice caught in his throat, which felt like it was swelling up. He was sure it was the blizzard blinding him, but his eyes were getting watery. "I..." He tried again, but wasn't any stronger. His eyes filled with tears that began to pour down his face. Knees crumpling, Nicholas knelt down in the snow, "I'm sorry!" He wiped his eyes to no avail. "I'm so sorry!" He thought he was shouting to the heavens, but his voice had given and the only one to hear him was himself and the Gods... if they existed.

It was too cold to keep up this breakdown, so Nicholas got a hold of himself and stood back up. There was no way to go any farther, not in this storm. It took all his strength, but Nicholas turned around and carefully began back home.

...

Nicholas returned days later, hoping that enough time had passed for some of the snow to melt.

Properly equipped to face the elements, he left town, carried on down the trail that would take him to the forest and...

"...Jackson?"

Across the valley, he saw Jack. Was it really him?

Nicholas dropped his walking stick and ran to him. He wished he'd moved this fast when Jack had been running away. It didn't matter now. Nicholas reached him and held him in his arms. He hadn't held him like this since he was small. "Jack, my son...!" His eyes welled up and he buried his nose in his hair, "My boy," Jack wouldn't answer. Instead, he seemed to go limp in Nicholas' arms. He looked over him, "Jack–?"

In his arms, it wasn't the young boy he knew. His eyes were faded, his skin ghostly pale, and his limbs were heavy with death. Even though his eyes were looking back into his father's, no one was there.

He'd lost him.

"Jack!" Nicholas jerked awake in a cold sweat, chasing his breath. It was dark and it was freezing. Next to him, he saw Emily had once again cried herself into a deep sleep. He could still feel his imagined son's corpse in his arms. Fraught with terror, he couldn't let his nightmare become reality.

Before he left, he wrote a note,

My Love, I've gone to look for Jack. I have someone covering for me at the mill. Tell Sophie Daddy's just gone hunting, I don't want her to worry. I shouldn't be gone long. I'm no fool, and I won't try my hand against mother nature. I promise to return if it gets too dangerous.

I'll find him. I promise.

Nicholas

...

Months later, when things began to quiet down in the village, the Overland family had become more reclusive than ever. They now knew what it was like for Jack to live as a prisoner inside of his own home, either too afraid to go outside or too unmotivated. Emily could only manage to walk Sophie to and from school; some evenings she wouldn't even feel like cooking and crawl straight into bed.

Nicholas spent weeks memorizing maps and looking for Jackson, but the mill wouldn't pay him if he kept giving away his shifts and he was forced to put his work first so his remaining family didn't starve.

Some neighbors were sympathetic, leaving baskets with food and a note with kind words. Some would say simple things such as, I hope your son comes home safe.

Others contained verses, like For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, or Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Not even these words of acceptance comforted Emily and she would throw these notes into the fire.

Not everyone was so compassionate. Nicholas would never tell his wife, but he heard talk among others of his 'heretic family' and his 'abomination son.' Nicholas wanted to throw down whatever tools he was carrying and charge everyone who dared put his son's name in their mouths, to beat them so deep into the dust that they were unrecognizable.

But Nicholas contained his anger—he hoped he could use it to find Jack when he could afford to leave again. He'd be gone for days at a time. Some men had offered to help, but he couldn't be so trusting—for all he knew, they wanted to take care of the man who'd planted the seed of this 'devil child.' He was sure some of the proposals were genuine, but Nicholas had a gut feeling Jack would never approach him out in the wild if other people were with him.

It was what he'd taught him, after all...

...

Nicholas lied awake in his bed. Two pools of light from their candle lamps filled the room; they often kept the house lit in case Jack returned home himself.

Nicholas turned to his side and frowned when he saw Emily stirring. It appeared that her sleep was troubled; Nicholas reached out to wake her, but upon closer inspection, he saw her lips curl into a grin. Although they were closed, her eyes were squeezing out tears. Unsure of what to do, Nicholas gently placed his head next to her head on the pillow and whispered, "Em?" He stroked her hair, "Emily?"

Her eyes fluttered open, "Jack?"

"It's me." Nicholas answered, worried he'd caused a sweet dream to end too early.

"No, he's..." Emily sat up and looked around. When she realized she'd been asleep, her heart broke all over again. Nicholas pulled her into his arms. She whispered, "I dreamt about our Jackson... He was standing right there," she pointed to the wall that was next to her side of the bed, "he kissed my cheek and said 'Mom, I'm home...' I couldn't hug him, but I saw his face." She looked up and caught a trace of his reaction.

Nicholas shook his head, "I'm sorry I woke you." A question came to mind, "Did he look the same as we last saw him, or was he older?"

"I couldn't tell. All I saw was our little boy."

For some reason, their daughter came to mind. She'd been so strong through all of this, certain Jack was going to come home. Even when one year became two, then three... "I checked on Sophie earlier. She's sound asleep."

"Maybe I should go—"

Someone pounded on their front door, scaring them both. It had been a long time since a neighbor had bothered them, so they had no idea who this could be so late at night. They looked at each other before Nicholas let go of her and got up to cautiously answer the door.

To his astoundment, it was a well-dressed soldier. He'd rode there on a large carriage. "Are you Nicholas Overland?"

His heart skipped a beat. "Who's asking?"

"King Agnarr, in Arendelle. He's inquiring about the family of someone named Jackson." Nicholas' face turned white, unaware of what he might hear next.

He hadn't anticipated the most fantastic news of his family's life.

...

As he had for years now, Jack woke up alone in his castle.

His ice palace was intricate and detailed, the result of Jack's long-buried creativity and his deep appreciation for beauty. What was strange about this night in particular is that he had no recollection of going to sleep in his castle. The last thing he remembered was being in Arendelle—his family was there, he was holding hands with Princess Elsa, who smiled as they created a snowfield for the children to play in and turned the castle courtyard into an ice rink for the adults. Everyone was enamored and amazed, not afraid.

Jack sighed. He should have known; it was only a dream.

Sitting up in the bed, Jack gazed out the balcony doors, which were left open. He looked at the elaborate carvings of snowflakes within his palace; they glowed and shimmered in the moonlight. He wished so badly that the people in Arendelle could see this place—the only people that knew about his magic had seen what devastation it could cause.

Jack curled up, his loneliness weighing heavier than ever.

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" A voice came out of nowhere, but Jack was used to his lone companion appearing from the shadows whenever he pleased.

He wasn't in the mood even for his company tonight. "Go away, Pitch."

"Oh, think you're too good for my friendship now that you've had a taste of real company? If only you knew what they were thinking." His dark sand began to swirl around him, like Pitch was taunting him. "They all know that you're a freak."

That word stung Jack to the core. It felt like a punch in the gut and he bristled. "I—I'm not a freak!" He said, deciding for once to stand up for himself.

Pitch appeared in front of him, face-to-face. Did he dare defy him? "No?"

"No!" Jack stood up. "There are people that care about me! You just wanted me to think I was a monster so you could use me!"

"I didn't have to make you think anything! You proved it!" Pitch disappeared into the shadows, the balcony doors slammed closed and the castle was growing darker. Jack looked around for Pitch. In front of him, the sand took the shape of his mother and father, "Your parents, they never wanted you." Then it changed to Elsa, "Your precious little princess, did you honestly think she'd ever love you?" He mocked. Finally, to hit home, Pitch's sand turned into the small shape of Sophie. "And your sister. We both know what—"

"Stop!" Jack tried to wave the sand away. He felt like he was being backed into a corner. "M-My sister... Sophie..." He stammered, terror seizing his soul. "You're a liar! My sister's fine! She—"

"She's gone." Pitch's sand and shadows were everywhere now. "They're all gone. You came all this way to be alone, and now you are."

"No," Jack meekly said, trembling. It wasn't true! He had to escape! His family was waiting for him! When he turned, he indeed saw just who he was hoping for. His mother... His father... Only they were disgusted. They wouldn't even look at him.

"I carried you for nine months. If I'd known I was going to have a monster I'd have..." She stopped herself. Jack had never heard his mother say such venomous words. It stunned him.

"Mom–" He reached for her, but then his parents vanished.

"I should've stayed away." He recognized her voice before he saw her. Elsa. "If I'd known what you were I never would've spoken to you that day. Now everyone knows about the freak I brought to the castle. You made me a freak."

Jack felt tears sitting in his eyes, unable to even answer. He was clutching his own arm, falling into absolute despair. He held his head, "Stop! Pitch, please! Stop!" In his struggle, Jack whirled around again to see his child sister. She was dripping wet and shivering, sobbing. "No..." He whimpered. He knew what was coming.

"It's your fault, Jack." She took a step and ice crackled beneath her feet. He didn't want to hear it again, her horrific cry of panic as she fell into the water. He had to snap out of it! This was all Pitch!

It's not real. It's not real. It's not...

But her scream had been real, and Jack heard it again. And again. And again. Unable to bear it, he screamed over her.

Then he woke up with a panicked cry. He was breathless and sweating, gulping the air.

"Jack?" He didn't even have time to process what had just happened when somebody beside him said his name. Turning, he saw the pale young woman with her flaxen hair draped over her shoulder. "What's wrong?" She asked. She'd been scared awake by his own scream.

Chasing his breath, Jack felt relief settling in. "Nothing. I had a bad dream."

"About what?" She asked, taking his hand.

Jack pulled it away, "It's fine. Go back to sleep." Something overcame him then. Sighing, he crawled over her and held her in his arms; she held him close in a cradle. She could feel his hammering heart through the fabric of his shirt. "I was so scared. I thought I was alone."

Elsa knew what that meant. She gently wove her fingers through his hair. "You're not alone. I'm here. Your family's here." She moved his head so she could kiss his lips. They were so warm every time. "You'll never be alone again."

The way she said those words told Jack she meant it. He reminded himself to do what his father had taught him and put the dream out of his mind. Then, as his mother taught, he told himself what was real; he was in Arendelle holding the love of his life in his arms. His family was all sleeping in their own rooms, and everyone knew about his powers... Yet they weren't afraid.

Most importantly, it was over. The pain and solitude were finally over.