Prologue: Part 2
"Time is almost at an end, my friend."
The man in the moon sighed heavily to himself as he once again stood beside the sacred lake.

Lost deep in his own thoughts as he stared into the crystalline waters; allowing them to flicker between images as they so pleased. His brows furrowed with a frown in his expression as he found himself worrying about the next three hundred years. Two hundred years had gone by in the blink of an eye since Father Time had given the warning of the war, and in those two hundred years nothing he did seemed to alter the line that would eventually lead to his demise.

The celestial being had attempted to nudge the spirits of the world to become stronger, through training and focus; however could not divulge why. Breaking the timelines of the future entirely was never an option, the backlash that would come from the universe itself would be too great. The man in the moon could honestly say that he was proud of the progress being made, the spirits growing stronger and appearing well protected within their hidden homes. But he knew it wasn't enough, he needed more.

With that thought the waters of the sacred lake began to settle. The sudden stillness of the previously rippling and constantly changing images catching the attention of the celestial being; the taller man leaning closer as he was pulled from the racing of his mind. However, the man in the moon frowned in confusion when the sight before him was one that lacked any real importance. A frozen pond in winter.

"What am I looking at?"
He questioned out loud, knowing the magics of the universe held their own rhyme and reason, but could not place the significance of what he was being shown. Until he began to recognize the frozen pond that is.

It was a beautiful little clearing, ice and snow sparkling under the moonlight with tall pine trees creating the deep woods that surrounded it. During the warmer months the land beside the clear water was lush green with flowers and the trees towering above created plenty of shade. The rocks on one side of the pond, currently frozen over, creating a gentle waterfall pathway for a small stream that came from higher in the mountains. The children of the nearby town, Burgess, loved to play here all year round. That's when he remembered.

"Jackson Overland?"
The man in the moon's expression became a bit more surprised than anything else, remembering the 14 year old boy that still lay somewhere in the frozen water where he had died one hundred years ago. The sacred lake expanded the picture and gave a more clear image in response to his reaction.
"I don't need a child-"
The celestial being frowned disapprovingly but the image grew larger and drew closer to the pond, as if the sacred lake was attempting to disagree and speak over him.

Only then did he actually contemplate this thought process further. The boy had acted selflessly, sacrificing himself for his little sister and taking her place upon the cracked ice and as such in death as well. The man in the moon had never transformed a child into a spirit though, feeling they would miss their loved ones far too much and deserved to rest in peace when the worst happened; and they were claimed into an afterlife. Jackson Overland deserved this as well, having died in a very honorable way. However…perhaps Jackson Overland was exactly what he needed.

Someone who was selfless and someone who was willing to sacrifice himself for others. Given a new life, given a new and overwhelming power. Surely whatever enemy was to come would stand no chance. He wished he could choose someone else, someone living and able to make that decision themselves. But he did not have the time to find someone who was willing to die like this boy was for his sister. With this thought process finalized, the man in the moon let out a sigh of resignation and nodded in agreement to this decision. Kneeling beside the deep clear waters with the image still reflecting on the surface and taking one last breath to calm his nerves.

"Forgive me for this. I will not watch what becomes of you, I refuse to intervene."
The man in the moon declared as he began to gather the stars themselves, though only bits and pieces. Intending to gather the child's soul back from death itself; which had never been done before.

Whether the boy stumbled or strided to the finish line was unimportant; so long as he reached it. Despite the celestial being's intentions he could not find it in himself to leave the boy without at least a name. Jackson Frost would suffice, the boy would not recall his old one after all.