Okay, not my favorite chapter, but an important one nonetheless. Shout out to Shadow-Strike Raven, thanks and I hope you like this chapter! I don't own RoTG and enjoy.
The wind tore at my face as I shot away from the workshop. I didn't care what happened to the Guardians at this point, I didn't care who won the war, and I certainly didn't care what happened to me. I just needed to get away. The strange feeling in my heart had only increased and my desire to fly away as fast as possible kicked in when the Guardians rejected me.
The oceans sped under me as fled and a certain island came into view. Ireland. The one place a spirit, whether good or bad, is always welcome. I landed on a cliff next to a lake shrouded in mist. For once, I was too angry to try and clear it away. I looked down at the tooth box in my hands. Who would have though the wish to get my memories back would cause so much trouble? I placed my tooth box onto my dress and a dull gray tooth box appeared. Not even my storage items gave me a ray of hope.
"I thought this might happen." I didn't turn around. That voice had caused me enough trouble, but for once, it wasn't threatening. He almost sounded caring, if that's even possible. "They never really trusted you. I just wanted to show you that. But I understand." That was it. I whirled around, sending a gust of wind in the direction of Pitch. A blockage of nightmare sand appeared.
"You don't understand anything! I had a life, friends, and you took that away from me! You turned me into a monster!" I shouted as I shot a jet of water at Pitch. He blocked it and swung some nightmare sand in my direction.
"You don't think I've felt that way as well? People casting you out like you're a disease?" Pitch shouted back. I jumped up and sent a combination attack of water, clouds, and wind. Pitch's nightmare sand met my attack and an explosion erupted. A thick fog surrounded us and I cautiously landed, slowly letting the fog die out. I looked back at Pitch, ready for anything
"No one trusting you? Never having anyone to talk to? Longing for someone to understand?" I stayed silent. He had just voiced what I had been feeling for the past twenty-five years. For once, Pitch and I had something in common. I looked up and locked eyes with him.
"All of those years in the shadows, I thought that there was no one who knows what this feels like. Now I see I was wrong," Pitch said. I gripped my flute tightly. Was Pitch the only person who accepted me for who I was? The only person who really understood?
"We don't have to be alone Misty. I believe in you, and so will the children. But more importantly, I trust you," Pitch said. This wasn't a trick. I could feel it. He was giving me the chance to be believed in. To be seen. To no longer be alone.
"You really think kids will believe in me?" I asked.
"Yes! Look at what you can do," Pitch said, motioning to a sculpture made of clouds and water that was most likely created when I attacked Pitch. I walked over to the sculpture and placed my hand on it. Did I really do this? I didn't realize I could.
"How many spirits could do that? And the little storm you created was quite impressive," Pitch told me. I didn't respond, but I knew a lot of spirits could control clouds and wind just fine. As for the storm, I could think of a handful of spirits who could create a super-monsoon, certainly Mother Nature.
"And how many spirits could bring to life anything they chose?" Pitch asked. I considered that question as well. I probably was the only spirit who could bring images to life, but there were others who could create stuff as well. North for one, and so could Ombric. However, I hadn't seen another spirit with the combination of powers I had, so I suppose I was a little out of the norm.
"Misty, you are powerful, and most certainly not a monster. We can make the children believe, in the both of us," Pitch continued. It sounded like a good deal, but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to take up the offer. A stabbing pain in my chest brought my hand to my heart. I turned away from Pitch, trying to stop myself from falling over. The strange feeling in my chest had increased and I felt lightheaded. Pitch seemed to notice because what he said next almost made me fall on the ground in shock.
"And, you wouldn't have to worry about the children's belief anymore." My eyes widened. How did he know? Not even Jack knew, and we had been friends ever since we were born. I had tried to hide it as best as I could, but in my heart I knew somehow, people would find out. I was connected to the children, but not like the Guardians. I was only affected if children stopped believing. My energy waned and I slowly would fade away. I got no extra benefits if kids believed. When Pitch tried to defeat the Guardians nine months ago, I had almost completely faded when something happened that returned my energy in a heartbeat. And now Pitch was offering to get rid of that? It seemed too good to be true. I could have all my power back, have kids believe in me, and never have to worry about fading ever again.
"What is your answer?" Pitch asked. He offered his hand out and I wanted to grab it, to agree to become a Nightmare Princess, to finally not be alone.
But something stopped me.
A little voice inside my head kept me from reaching out. Maybe it was Acionna, maybe it wasn't, but whoever it was stopped me. Is this what you really want? the voice asked me. At first, my answer was yes. I wanted to be seen, I didn't want to be alone, and I didn't want to fade away just because the kids deemed it so. But then I looked inside myself, really looked, and I realized, that's not what I wanted. I didn't always like painting clouds and giving kids new, fun ideas. Morality has always been a bit of a struggle for me. For a period of time, my only focus was to get someone to see me. I tried everything, and I mean everything. Thick fog that people could easily get lost in, torrential rainstorms that sent mass flooding, even a couple of tornadoes in the hope that someone would at least notice me. But it never worked. All I got from those incidents were lots of people crying, lots of people hurt, and me feeling guilty. I had tried fear on once, and I didn't like it.
The little voice inside my head also asked me if Pitch was right. Is he the only person who understands? The truth is, he wasn't. How many other spirits had gone through the same things I had? No one seeing you, always being alone, that was the life story of countless spirits, not just me. And there were people who understood. Lily and Auty understood me. Sandy understood me. Jack understood me. Acionna certainly understood me (after all, she's me), and none of them ever judged me because of who I was. And in truth, I was never really alone. Acionna was always with me. How could I forget that?
And finally, my little voice asked, Can you really trust Pitch? That was the easiest one to answer. Of course not! Pitch was responsible for turning me into what I was. He destroyed Sandy, turned North into a fearling, hurt Jack, and killed Stella. Why had I ever believed that Pitch was trying to help me? I couldn't accept. Kids wouldn't believe in us. They would fear us, and I couldn't do fear again.
And if it meant that I would continue to fade away? So be it. I turned around and faced Pitch.
"My answer is no," I stated. Pitch's smile turned into a frown in a manner of milliseconds. "I want to be believed in, not feared, and that's what you are offering me. Now if you don't mind too much, please leave." I spun around and started walking away. I could almost feel the hatred cascading off of Pitch.
"You want me to leave. Done. But first…" I heard a laugh that reminded me of a cackling shadow. I looked back at Pitch and saw a horrific sight. Little Sand was in a lead cage and a fearling circled the cage. Little Sand looked terrified and I pointed my staff at Pitch. The wind whipped around me in fury.
"The staff, Misty!" Pitch shouted over the wind. I let the wind settle and we stared at each other. "Now, hand over the staff, and I'll let the little fairy go." Little sand furiously shook her head back and forth, but the fearling only crept closer to her. I clenched my teeth. I had messed up once with Little Sand, and I was determined that it would never happen again. Against Little Sand's wishes, I handed Pitch my staff. The blue stone in the center stopped glowing. Pitch causally flipped my staff around.
"Okay then, let her go," I said, reaching out to the cage. Pitch considered this for a moment and then gave me a sneer.
"No," he said. I mentally cursed again. Another simple trick. "I think this fairy will make a fine nightmare, don't you?" The fearling passed through the bars of the cage and swallowed Little Sand. I couldn't help but scream. Pitch laughed and my rage swelled. I didn't have my staff, but I was too angry to care. I rushed Pitch and grabbed Little Sand's cage right out of his hands. Pitch looked shocked, but he collapsed my staff into my paintbrush. He then took it and snapped it in half.
If I had thought the energy draining hurt, this felt a thousand times worse. I felt like someone had snapped my soul in half. Everything hurt for a spilt second, and then it was replaced by a dull throbbing in my head. I couldn't do much except groan. Pitch used that moment of weakness to push me off the cliff. I fell down the side of the cliff, my body going limp. I landed on a ledge maybe halfway down, every bone in my body screaming in agony. Through teary eyes, I saw two small wooden splinters fall. They landed next to me and I looked at them. My paintbrush was splintered in half.
Somehow, I'd managed to hang onto Little Sand's cage. I opened the cage, not expecting Little Sand to still be there. To my astonishment, I saw Little Sand on the floor of the cage, but she looked weak and sickly. I picked her up and started stroking her head.
"Oh Little Sand, I'm sorry," I said to the little dream helper. I moved out of the wind and placed Little Sand on my lap. The wind howled around us as I sat there, unable to do anything. My powers were gone. I couldn't even summon a little bit of wind.
"Pitch was right. I get myself in the worst of situations," I mumbled to myself. I looked at Little Sand and I noticed that her hand rested on the gray drawing of my tooth box. I brought it out and sighed.
"I guess I can look at my memories now. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," I said to myself. The girl painted on the tooth box smiled back at me. I regarded the picture curiously. Could that really have been me? If that little girl was me, she was long gone. I looked the tooth box over, looking for an opening of sorts. Nothing. As I stared at the box in confusion, my eyes traveled to the large blue diamond on the top. I placed my hand on the diamond and the whole tooth box started to glow. My vision, starting from the center out, turned from normal, to flipping diamonds. I watched as the landscape turned from a rocky cliff to a wooded glen. A small house rested not far from two very familiar ponds and I gasped.
I was in my memories.
The next chapter will mostly be Misty's memories and I think you may be surprised (if only a little bit). Please review and see you soon!