Hey, guys! Welcome back to RFL 2: Into the Dark! Just like always, let's take care of reviews before we do anything else!
Thanks so much (and welcome back!) to sparklehannah (I'm glad you like it so far!) and WickedInk (You shall wait no more, for it is here!) for reviewing! Missed you guys!
And with that, on with the chapter!
Chapter 2: Home Base
The Guardian base located in Soluna City was one of five in existence. There was one hidden in each of the five regions of the tsardom of Soluna; Iskald, to the north, Motoraus, to the south, eastern Kilatai, western Ostea, and the capital at the center of the land. Jack had never been to any of the bases aside from the Soluna City location, but he could realistically assume that no two of them looked quite the same.
In a manner of speaking, the building was directly out in the open, just waiting for someone to stumble across it. It mostly blended in well with the other silver structures surrounding it, but the elaborate "G" symbol etched into the front door would certainly have been a dead giveaway if not for the protective spell cast around the perimeter. The magic caused most people to simply overlook the base's existence, their gaze sliding from the bakery to the left of it to the tailor on its right side.
It also had a strange effect on immortal beings within its radius just outside of the building, as Jack had quickly discovered the hard way. He did not quite understand how it worked, but apparently, the protective spell reacted with the magic sustaining his newly-gained immortality and caused him to become completely nonexistent to the mortal eye-or the mortal touch, for that matter. Though he would never admit it, it had taken about a half an hour of consoling before he had recovered from the discomforting feeling of having a person walk directly through him when he lingered outside for too long.
He was told that this feature was put in place in order to further conceal the fact that the building was a Guardian base, as it would prevent people from actually seeing any Guardians enter. Jack fully understood this and thought that it was a clever tactic, but still privately found the particular effect exceedingly unnerving. He generally strove to enter the base as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further ghost-like encounters.
Such was his behavior currently, as he swiftly moved through the area affected by the magic, opening the door and slipping into the building in one fluid motion. He sighed with relief as he closed the door behind him, then ventured further into the base, waiting for one of the others' inevitable greeting.
Sure enough, mere moments after Jack's entrance, Nicholas St. North, Guardian of Wonder, approached the boy, smiling amicably. "Ah, Jack!" he called in his thick, Northern Iskald accent. "What did you think of storybook?"
"It left much to be desired," Jack replied dully, only earning a laugh from the taller man in return.
"Ah, well, is children's story," North responded with a knowing nod. "Better to keep them innocent, yes?"
"More like sheltered…" the snow sprite mumbled, but dropped the issue. "Anyway...the plans for my departure haven't changed at all, have they?"
North shook his head. "No, I believe everything is same. You will leave tomorrow at dawn, yes?"
Jack nodded. "I just need to get the last of my saddlebags packed, and then I'll be all set to go."
"Ah, excellent," North replied with a smile. "Has expansion spell been working well?"
"It has," Jack told him. "I think I could fit Zephyr himself in one of the bags if I needed to." He smiled slightly. "Thank you, by the way. I don't think I ever formally said it."
"You are very welcome!" North laughed. "Now, I will not keep distracting you. Go ahead and finish up!"
After nodding in acknowledgement, Jack headed through the main meeting area and into his room (despite the passage of five months, he still marveled at the ability to call a room his own) at the back of the base. The greatly chilled air of his accommodations eased him, causing his aggravation regarding the storybook to dissipate. As frustrating as it was to have his life's story so heavily diluted and glorified, he figured that he could cope with it so long as he was still able to tell the true tale to those who asked.
Jack's room was relatively simple in layout; there was a bed, a desk, a chair, a dresser, and a nightstand placed neatly around the area, as well as his beloved staff propped up against the wall by the door. The walls were painted a serene shade of sky blue, and the hues of the furniture followed a similar, if paler, pattern. The only details interrupting the otherwise minimalistic design of the room were the intricate, frost-like patterns etched into the furniture and floors. North claimed that the patterns were hand-carved rather than placed there by magic, and though he figured that such detailed work would take an astronomical amount of time, Jack found himself believing that the older Guardian was perfectly capable of such a feat. He only wondered when exactly North had taken the time to actually sit down and carve everything, but that was a question for another time.
Currently, a large quantity of soft blankets and plush animals were spread out across Jack's bed. Seeing as he was an immortal Guardian now, Jack had no need for most of the supplies a regular person might require while crossing the desert into Motoraus. Instead, his saddlebags were to be packed with gifts of comfort for the captured children-it was likely that he would find them shaken and scared, so North proposed the idea of providing them with soft, welcoming objects to hold in order to ease their fears. Recalling his own previous tendency to cling to his woolen cloak when anxious, Jack readily agreed with the sentiment.
The young sprite carefully folded each blanket and placed them one by one into the bottom of his last saddlebag, marveling at just how much North's expansion spell had increased its volume. He found himself easily able to fit all of the blankets and stuffed toys inside the bag with room to spare.
Amazing… he thought, shaking his head in disbelief as he picked up the bag to test its weight. And it hasn't even gotten any heavier…
He idly wondered how long it would take him to become accustomed to the wide variety of magic utilized by the Guardians of Childhood. Being only familiar with ice magic himself, Jack couldn't deny his interest in other forms of the art. From the Tsar's lunar powers to the Guardians' potions and spells, he had directly encountered many new types of magic over the past several months that he had previously only read about in storybooks as a child.
It just goes to show how far I've come… he silently acknowledged. The magic of snow sprites is impressive, without a doubt, but it's also familiar to me. This, though...I've never seen anything quite like it.
Suddenly, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the door opening behind him. His elfin ear twitched slightly at the noise and, upon turning to look, the boy was met with the sight of a familiar Pooka entering the room.
Jack snorted slightly as he placed the packed saddlebag back on his bed. "What, don't know how to knock, Kangaroo?" he asked, a dark eyebrow raised.
E. Aster Bunnymund, Guardian of Hope, rolled his emerald eyes and retorted, "Nah, just didn't think it was necessary, Frostbite."
"Of course you didn't." He leaned back against the wall, head slightly tilted questioningly. "So...to what do I owe the, ahem, pleasure of this little house call?"
"Don't sass me, kid," Aster warned. "Or I might decide not ta give ya this." He held up a small container with what looked like a white paste inside. As for what exactly it was, however, Jack was at a loss.
"And...what is that?" he asked dully. "Another teeth-cleaning solution Tooth keeps trying to force on everyone?"
Aster rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Nah, the sheila knows ya keep yer teeth clean. 'Sides, if it was that, I wouldn't be deliverin' it." The Pooka tossed the container over to the sprite, who just barely managed to catch it.
"Fair enough," Jack murmured, looking over the unfamiliar substance. "But you still haven't told me what it is."
"It's for yer trip ta Motoraus," Aster explained. "Ya put it on yer skin and it keeps ya from gettin' sunburned. I just mixed it up last night, actually. I figured since ya don't wear that giant cloak anymore, ya were gonna need a little somethin' ta protect yer pale-as-hell skin."
"Aw, that was really thoughtful of you, Cottontail," Jack teased. "My pale-as-hell skin thanks you."
Rather than fire back with sarcasm of his own, Aster simply raised an eyebrow in what appeared, oddly enough, to be confusion. "Hold up, mate," he said. "What did ya just say?"
Jack blinked. "Er...my pale-as-hell skin thanks you?"
The older Guardian shook his head. "No, no, before that."
Not seeing the point of Aster's questions, Jack responded slowly, "I said...aw, that was really thoughtful of you, Cottontail."
Aster stared at him for a few seconds, then, much to Jack's chagrin, suddenly began to laugh.
"What!?" Jack asked impatiently. "Was it the nickname? Because if you can give me nicknames, then I can-"
"No, kid, it's not that!" Aster quickly interrupted, still chuckling. "Ya just said…'that was.' Not ''twas,' like ya normally do."
Jack once again found himself blinking in confusion. "I...did?" he asked.
The rabbit nodded in confirmation. "Sure did," he replied. "Looks like over five months away from Central Iskald's enough for ya ta start losin' yer accent."
I'm...losing my accent? the young sprite thought, not with any sort of concern, but merely with surprise. Jack could honestly say that he hadn't noticed, though he supposed that it did make sense. His dialect was very region-specific, after all, and he had not heard anyone speaking like he was raised to in a long time. Even during his seven years on the run, he hadn't had enough prolonged contact with other people to begin mimicking their speaking habits. However, since he now regularly walked among the people of Soluna City, his Central Iskaldian vernacular seemed to be fading considerably.
Such a fact was not of utmost importance to him, though. He wasn't about to mourn an accent, nor would he actively try to maintain it. Some things simply faded naturally with time.
Besides, thinking back on it, such a dialect was too...uptight for his liking. If he was to be the Guardian of Fun, there was no need for the guarded formality that he had grown accustomed to. He realized that as he grew more comfortable with his new environment, he gradually slipped out of his old ways and into more casual habits. Evidently, the changing of his speaking patterns was an example of such.
At that point, Jack figured that he should offer a response to Aster's words. Thus, he merely shrugged and said, "Well, as long as I don't somehow manage to acquire your accent instead, I'll be happy."
Aster's smirk almost immediately turned to a deadpan expression as he muttered, "Yeah, yeah, very funny, mate. Anyway, ya done packin', or what?"
Jack chuckled. "What, can't wait for me to leave?"
"Exactly," the Pooka replied, not missing a beat. "A full week without havin' ta deal with yer sass? Sounds like a dream come true ta me."
"Wow, love you too," Jack responded sarcastically, rolling his sapphire eyes. "But to answer your question, yes, I'm finished with packing." He held up the saddlebag as though to prove his claims. "I'll be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning."
Aster nodded in acknowledgement. "Good. Now, it's gettin' late. Sandy wanted me ta tell ya ta make sure ya get plenty of rest before ya go. Don't forget, even immortals need ta sleep sometimes."
"I know, I know," Jack told him with a nod. "He gave me a pouch of dreamsand a couple days ago, I'll just use that." He neglected to mention the fact that the Sand Spinner had given said pouch to him after he had noticed that the youngest Guardian had been waking up with far too many nightmares as of late, but he figured that Aster could guess as much.
Aster merely nodded again. "Alright," he said. He began to leave the room, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. "By the way, North'll probably try ta do somethin' special for ya tomorrow, so be prepared," he advised. "Ya might end up gettin' outta here later than ya think."
Sounds just like North, Jack silently acknowledged. Someone as over the top as him would no doubt attempt to make my departure just as over the top...even if I'll only be gone a week at most.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said aloud. "Thanks for the warning."
"No problem, mate," Aster replied. "Now, get yer ass ta bed before Sandy comes in here ta knock ya out himself." With that, the Pooka exited the room, leaving Jack alone once more.
Jack usually preferred staying awake late into the night, but he had no doubts that Sandy would come in and force him to sleep if he stayed up for much longer. He placed his packed saddlebag on the nightstand, along with the container Aster had given him, then proceeded to get ready for bed as quickly as he could manage, lest he invoke the wrath of a certain Guardian of Dreams. He did not bother to go talk to any of the others; he knew they would only chide him for not getting rest before his journey and demand that he go straight to bed. They tended to be the slightest bit overbearing in that way.
Besides, he knew that proper farewells would be saved for the following morning. Anything they had to say could be said to him then. This in mind, Jack applied some of his personal dreamsand to his eyes, soon drifting off to sleep.
That's all for this chapter! Things should start picking up soon, I promise. Either way, hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll see you in the next chapter!
'Til then, Sapphire316, out.