Wind sighed heavily when she had reluctantly taken his hand.
"Attagirl. Now was that so hard?"
She gave Pitch a weak glare as he pulled her - into the shadows, not to her feet like one may have expected. In her state, the journey gave her a headrush and when she stumbled to the cold stone, she fought against the urge to vomit. They were back at his underground hideout.
Wind snatched back her hand and stumbled away from him.
"Pitch," she hissed. Jack's blank expression remained frozen at the back of her mind as it probably would for as long as she was conscious.
"Yes, well, I'm not all that happy with you, either. To think, it used to be us against the world. Now, this is what I have to resort to."
Pitch looked down at her like she had disappointed him.
"Ha, resort to? No need to pretend, it's called not respecting my choices."
"It's called saving you from yourself, actually. I thought you'd be a little more grateful. But I don't have time for this. Come with me."
Wind's glare never faltered. "And if I say no?"
"You'll find yourself sorely regretting it."
She would fight him more on this but she felt too weak to argue further. Her entire body was still reeling from the pain of the severed bond. Pulling herself to her feet, she hid her transparent left hand behind her back and followed Pitch through twisting dark halls that echoed with snorts and shrieks of the Nightmares that shivered in every corner. They were there waiting, hidden in the shadows that filled every nook and cranny of the blasted place.
She sluggishly floated barely an inch above the ground and quickly gave it up in favour of touching down and stumbling after Pitch's brisk pace on wobbly legs.
Wind gasped as they came to a stop at a small rocky ledge overlooking a familiar cavern filled with anxious twitters and gleaming golden piles.
"Go on," Pitch prompted with a gesture of his arm.
She stared at him warily, her breathing steadying as she slowly got used to the ache in her chest, slowly got more in control of her body after the shock of losing what had essentially been a limb to her.
"Don't look at me like that, I know you want to look. It's the least I can do considering what's ahead."
She scoffed. "Glad you realise how much you're asking, old friend."
She limped to the edge of the ledge, turning her back on him so she couldn't see him flinch.
"You didn't take them… for me, did you?"
Wind waited, gaze transfixed on the gold as wind rushed in her ear but still she resisted, waiting for the answer.
There was a brief pause before he answered. "Of course not. It was all part of the plan."
"Right. The plan."
Even the anemoi in her head were silent and this time there was little hesitation when Wind threw herself off the ledge. Still unused to having all her power to herself, she faltered mid-air, leaving her to a plummeting dive straight into the gilded boxes. In her desperation, she barely flinched, the sight of the gold reviving her strength and soon she was shooting through pile after pile, inspecting every single box.
Not it… not it… not it… not it…
Somewhere above her, she was half aware of Pitch watching her with intense eyes. He knew the answer. She kept searching anyway. She kept listening for a call that was never there. What name would it call if it did?
Pitch found her hours later at the very centre, curled up in a small circle clear of the boxes after clearly blasting them away from her in a fit of emotion.
He exhaled gently as he approached her still form quietly. Wind tensed when she heard him but when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she knew it was Pitch, her friend, not Pitch who hated the Guardians. (The two were not as closely related as she once had thought.)
"It's not there, Pitch. It's not there."
"I know," was all he said, his voice an echo that only made the cavern feel bigger and colder.
"Tooth must have known all along. That bastard definitely knew and he never said anything on purpose, he never…"
Sobs broke up her speech and suddenly she was in Pitch's arms, burying her face in his chest like nothing had changed. She felt his breath catch in his chest and she froze. Before she could apologise and back away, his arms tightened around her, leaving her no room to possibly let go. So she didn't.
"I don't exist, Pitch. I never did. All this time I've been searching for an answer, for the person I must have been before Wind. Before Aeoleus. Just like you and Sandy and the others. My teeth aren't there… No memories… That means this is all I am..."
It broke Wind, more than losing Jack twice, more than losing Pitch, more than losing the Guardians faith and more than every lonely night screaming at the Moon. She wasn't human, not that she had ever thought herself to be. But she'd never had a family, she'd never had a name, she'd never lived. She was just… the wind. Cold and cruel and lifeless. Nothing more. She'd never been anything more-
A hand was rubbing her back hesitantly and Wind flinched away, forcing the hold to break. She turned her back on Pitch and stared into her broken up reflection in the glinting golden boxes that twinkled coldly back at her.
"Please… give me some time."
When Pitch spoke, it held nothing of the softness or warmth from moments before, no longer the old Pitch.
"I can't give you very much time. We have a battle ahead of us. When I come back, I expect you to be ready. I advise you to channel whatever you are feeling. There is no more Jack for you, no more Guardians. Just me. Don't you forget that."
He was gone by the time she turned around and she took the opportunity to release her remaining two anemoi who had been begging to be released since she had tossed the last box to the side.
Zephyrus and Notus both hovered before her grimly. Wind's almost completely transparent form flickered.
"Master, are you sure about this?"
Aeolus nodded decisively. "I've got… nothing left. I'll see this through, one last time."
"But you'll hurt him," Zeph protested while Notus simply bowed her head in understanding.
Notus always understood. Zephyrus cared too much to see the necessity of such things and sometimes, Nota cared too little. It was good she had sent Boreas and Eurus away. The two were too stubborn, too willing to fight, albeit in their own ways. For Eurie, it was the thrill of it. For Reas, it was their strength and unwillingness to yield.
Aeolus accepted Zeph's hug with a tired smile.
"When have I ever not? At least this time, it may be the last. They don't need me anymore."
Pulling back, she gently tucked a strand of Zeph's hair behind their ear. "Everything will end as it should. I just have to push through. Besides, I've still got some anger left in me."
Her eyes darkened and she forced Notus and Zephyrus to return to the back of her mind, her form flickering one last time before stabilising and rendering her skin no longer transparent, with the exception of her left hand.
"It's time for the Guardian's wake-up call."
When Pitch returned with his hands clasped behind his back and a satisfied smile on his sharp face, she was ready for him. "Welcome, Aeolus. It's so good to have you back. Come this way, I still have some of your old armour."
Wind had spent centuries searching for herself. The fact that the answer all along was nonexistent was yet another instance of the Old Man laughing at her from above.
Everyone she had seen had an origin, a starting point, a place they came from. A person they were. It's what made them real and what attached them to such human values that formed their core traits. The Guardians, she was talking about. They had all gone on a journey, lived a lifetime of laughter and pain, had found themself and come to terms with who they were. What they brought to the world.
What did Wind bring to the world? Bravery, North had tried to tell her. Bravery, Sandy had told her in his beautifully wordless way of communicating. Bravery, Pitch had scoffed enviously.
Bravery, nothing. Wind could howl and bring a thousand storms but that would never change the truth. Because the truth was, it didn't matter what anyone else thought if she didn't exist, had never existed, with nothing that made her real because what was she? A personified force of nature? Some monster the Man in Moon had willed into existence?
She bet they were laughing at her now, for thinking she could possibly be their equal. They'd never taken her seriously because of course they hadn't. She was nothing but a tool to be used, a weapon of war.
No memories, no past, no name. Who was she? Nothing. An echo in the sky, a faded attempt at life, a messy blast of emotion and pain.
But you know what? She was done. Done with this, done with them, done with all of it. Who cared anymore. Moon was too scared to get his hands dirty? Couldn't put a stop to all this?
Well, Wind may not have started any of this - or maybe she had, it had been too long and who cared anymore to remember such a thing? - but she would certainly end it. Whether they liked it or not.
'Wake-up call' indeed.
