Chapter 17: Beginning of the Time of Darkness
Standing, Hell gestured at the magical bindings which incarcerated the winter spirit, and Jack was jerked harshly onto his side. He gave a small whimper of pain before Hell cast a spell that sent him into a state of deep sleep, one that only Hell, the spell's caster, could wake him from. The bindings glowed bright red in the semi-darkness, throwing eerie shadows across the floor and onto the Guardian's face. Hell nudged Jack once with his boot. Jack gave no response, and now satisfied with his work, Hell turned to face the empty center of the Lair, gripping his trident in anticipation. He could feel Jack's fear growing stronger with every second that good lost its battle to despair in his mind.
Then, a black mist rose out of Jack's chest. It moved slowly, but gradually it condensed at the Lair's center. It began to churn and grow like an inky-black thunderstorm, threatening to unleash itself upon the Earth. The darkness filled the entire Lair. Finally thought, it cleared, and a boy (clearly younger than Hell) was revealed to be standing in the center of the Lair. His head was bowed, the last few filaments of darkness rising up from the floor and wrapping around his arms and legs like coils of smoke. When the boy raised his head, his raven black hair was brushed out of his face by a silent breeze. He had amber eyes, with rays of cerulean radiating out from his pupils.
"Thank you." The boy had a soft smile, one of relief from someone who had just been granted freedom. Hell walked forward and the younger boy raced with childish glee into his arms. The siblings embraced with a hug that rivaled those from Nicholas St. North.
"Welcome back, Dark." Hell gripped his fifteen year-old brother's shoulders. Dark wore a black long sleeved shirt, dark gray jeans and simple black boots, all covered by sections of metal armor the color of dull obsidian. The armor's color constantly shifted between black and various shades of gray.
That was when Dark spotted the winter spirit, bound to the wall with inescapable chains around his wrists. Jack was still unconscious.
"You traded part of his soul for mine?" Dark asked, walking over to stand beside Jack. Hell nodded. Dark swept his hand through the air above Jack's body and a formless black shadow rose into his hands, slowly shaping itself a bow and an arrow. Jack stirred slightly and mumbled something unintelligible.
"It is good to have a weapon again. This must have been his favorite?" Dark looked the black arrow up and down in a satisfied nature.
"No, actually. I'm rather surprised. Your weapons always come from someone else, manifested in the form of their most feared or favorite weapon. Jack always favored his staff, used it for almost everything...Until it recently took a permanent dive over the edge of a very tall canyon." Hell smirked slightly, looking over at his brother. Dark turned to watch Jack struggle to breath as more shadows seeped out of him, coiling around Dark and melting into the bow and arrow in the young spirit's hands.
"Maybe our dear sister knows why the staff didn't appear for you?" Hell suggested.
"No, I doubt that she would even know of this event yet. He's not, you know, dead yet," Dark countered, gesturing at Jack with his bow of shadows. Then he smiled for a moment and commented, "Do you still remember that time we messed with Father Time and he sent us to the future as punishment?"
"I fully remember the incident; it was not so much a punishment as a learning curve. Wasn't it...2258, or something?"
"Yes, I think it was. The man I got my weapon from was from a Federation of some sort. Learned that I really do like laser guns, phasers, blasters and worm-hole grenades."
"That was, however, an experience that I do not wish to repeat. Ever. I'd rather live to the future than skip to it."
"I didn't know you of all people could skip in any way, shape or form."
Hell rolled his eyes but grinned anyway. "Very funny."
"Anyway, that's what kept me going while I was imprisoned in Death's domain by our beloved sister. Thinking about dumb things like mortals' stupidity, you skipping, or that time you almost set Pitch's hair on fire." Dark smiled as he spoke. Whipping around, he suddenly fired an arrow into the dark walls of Pitch's former lair. Hell nodded, impressed as the arrow sank halfway up its shaft into the stone. Dark held out is hand and another arrow swirled into existence. Holding the arrow and bow together, the two melded, the arrow becoming part of the bowstring.
At that moment, the three inflamed lines on Jack's face flared a brilliant red, as did the cut from Pitch's dagger. They glowed like burning coals. Then Jack Frost's eyes burst open.
His eyes, once completely blue, now glinted with rays of amber, like fiery spikes of gold piercing through cold sapphires.
Please review (my random Star Trek references and all!)
*I also know this fic has gotten a little darker over time, but if you stick with it to the end, I promise it will be worth it. I already have the ending completely written and edited. Now we just have to get there...