Hello! I'm back with Chapter Eight: Shadows Versus Light! Hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Rise of the Guardians or the Guardians of Childhood series! I only own my OC!
Chapter Eight:
Shadows versus Light
The Boogeyman had watched Nightlight search for something he couldn't tell he was looking for. He simply prowled the woods, scanning every inch and surface he could find. Then Nightlight started to call out Wisp's name, and he couldn't help but grimace. So, that was what he was looking for….
Pitch hadn't intended to be caught- in fact, he startled himself when he snapped the twig. But he had better play along; after all, he was probably preparing to duel him, by the looks of it.
Pitch let out an icy-cold laugh, though it didn't seem humorous. In fact, it sounded more like a roar of rage and recognition. But Pitch remained with his teasing demeanor.
"Greetings," Pitch addressed in a way that was anything but welcoming.
"What are you doing here?" Nightlight demanded. His fear was divine: it wasn't of Pitch, it was for someone else. Pitch could sense his fear.
The children, perhaps. Pitch thought.
"So I am not allowed to go anywhere, now?" Pitch replied, chuckling. Nightlight's grip tightened on his staff so his knuckles whitened, though Pitch didn't notice; his hands were pale as it was.
"You're not going to attack me for wandering in the woods, are you?" Pitch said in a melodic voice. "After all, I have a freedom to go where I please."
There was a crash!, like two metal swords clashing on one another. Pitch had his enormous trademark scythe and hand, and Nightlight was landing cat-like on his feet, having just attempted to attack Pitch. It was on.
The Guardians argued among themselves, now oblivious to a weary-looking Wisp. Bunny had started something to do with a lot of eggs to finish up, and North had replied with some snide comment, and a small form of hell broke loose. Jack was the only one who actually noticed Wisp looking quite exasperated. He shrugged as if to say: "Sorry about them."
But Wisp had pretty much had it. She just wanted to go back to that clearing and figure out why she was here. She wanted to talk to Nightlight. She wanted to know why the moon spoke to her. So, before anyone could say another word, Wisp was gone.
Wisp flew out the skylight, and instantly began shivering. She hugged herself , but it wasn't much use. The cold was too fierce. She flew as fast as she could, and within a few moments, she was flying over an ocean, and it gradually became warmer.
She flew over all of the places she and Sandy flew over, occasionally slowing to look at some of the places she particularly liked, but never stopped.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached the border of Burgess.
Nightlight and Pitch fought like cats and dogs, except much worse. Pitch was skilled, Nightlight knew; the great General Kozmotis Pitchiner would never, ever go down without a fight. He could nimbly dodge Nightlight's attacks, despite the weight of the scythe, and suddenly attempt to bring it down on his head, Nightlight barely being able to dodge it. They fought for several minutes, none of them noticing that the sun was going down. It was absolutely exhausting, but Pitch seemed just as energetic as he was from the beginning of the duel. Nightlight's stamina was slowly wearing down. It began to show when Pitch finally nicked his cheek and blood trickled from his face.
Pitch had been used to this intensive fighting- he was a former general, for the moon's sake! He worked with those heavy weapons daily for hours at a time. Only on those days had he been exhausted enough to collapse on any kind of surface and fall asleep.
Pitch smirked at Nightlight taking large gulps of air. He could do him in, any moment now. Using all his might, Pitch swung the scythe at Nightlight faster than he had ever in his life.
Blood splashed onto the ground and Nightlight crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut, exhausted and still clutching his staff. His glow dimmed a considerable amount as the red bodily fluids made a puddle around him. The moon was out and it seemed to flicker….
Pitch put his foot on Nightlight's chest in a superior manner, grinning wickedly. This was it. He was a goner, for sure. Nightlight prayed to MiM that Wisp would be kept safe, and the children would be brave and hopeful and strong, and most of all, he would be avenged one day.
Pitch let out a cackle of triumph. Victory was sweet.
"Any last words, oh, what's your name? Nightlight?"
Nightlight's eyes suddenly turned white and glowed as bright and radiant as the sun. He began to float towards the moon. Pitch fell over and let out an agonizing shriek. He felt like his body was on fire. It was torture. He was not supposed to be in light. What on earth was happening?
Nightlight's mouth opened and sang out in a sweet, comforting tone as he floated towards the moon.
Night light, bright light.
Sweet dreams I bestow.
Sleep tight, all night.
Forever I will glow.
Then, as soon as it had began, all went dark, as it was nighttime.
Wisp inhaled the crisp scent of pine trees. The forest had a certain smell, caused by pine trees. Wisp loved it. She loved everything about it. It felt like home.
All of a sudden, everything went bright. What? It was nighttime. It was supposed to be dark!
Then, she calmed down immediately as a sweet singing voice caressed her ears. It seemed to calm every soul in Burgess.
Night light, bright light.
Sweet dreams I bestow.
Sleep tight, all night.
Forever I will glow.
Then, as if nothing happened at all, it returned back to darkness.
Wait a minute. She had known that voice. It sounded exactly like-
Nightlight.
Her eyes lit up and she glowed slightly brighter. She took off in the direction of the voice like a bullet.
She skidded to a stop when she saw a person next to a puddle of blood. He was in dark robes with a golden ring around the neck and waist, his hair was slicked into spikes, and he had gloomy gray skin. Except, he seemed a lot paler than usual. He was supported by one hand, one hand caressing the side of his head and the other trembling, supporting him on the ground. He was letting out sharp gasps of air, as if in pain.
Pitch.
Wisp immediately ran over to him and gently touched his back. He didn't seem to notice. Shakily, he picked himself up and stood up. He was carrying himself with confidence, but it was clear that he was shaken to the core. He towered over her and Wisp cautiously asked, "Are- are you… all right?"
"Fine," came the curt and slightly shaky reply, even though it was obviously a lie.
"Are you su-"
"I said I'm fine!"
A ringing silence fell between the two. Pitch swallowed. Wisp's eyes fell on the puddle of blood, and her stomach lurched.
"What is that?" Wisp asked, horrified.
Pitch didn't answer.
"I said: what is that?" Wisp asked with the same gentle yet horrified tone she'd been using. When Pitch didn't answer yet again, Wisp made her own conclusion.
"That's blood, isn't it?"
There was a very long pause.
"Yes," Pitch finally answered.
"Is it your blood?" Wisp said with growing dread. She knew the answer before Pitch had time to answer the question.
"No."
"You killed someone, didn't you?" Wisp nearly whispered. She couldn't believe it. She wouldn't believe it.
"Not yet," Pitch said with malice.
Although Wisp didn't know who exactly Pitch nearly killed, she flew off anyways. She had to find Nightlight. He was the only person that had any idea what was happening with her. She had to.
MiM rode on his lunar moths towards the spectral boy with a ghastly expression on his face. Once he got closer, he could begin to see his injuries, one consisting of a long cut across his stomach and chest.
No. No. No! NO! This couldn't behappening! Tsar Lunar wouldn't allow it! Nightlight, MiM's oldest friend and Guardian, would not die!
Nightlight's glow was extremely dim and MiM felt a pang in his chest. For one of the first times, he knew fear, and his fear only made Pitch stronger.
With shaking hands, MiM took Nightlight as if he was the most precious thing in the universe. To MiM, he was.
The lunar moths jetted back to MiM's palace as fast as their wings could carry them. MiM assessed Nightlight- other than the cut on his abdomen, nothing too serious, a cut on his face, a few swollen bruises. But what on the moon was he going to do for the large cut?
By the time MiM and an unconscious Nightlight made it back to MiM's palace, the lunar moth's back was smeared with blood. MiM sprinted into his palace as fast as his stout legs would go and into his own bedroom.
It was a dome-like place with a large, soft bed with even softer and warmer sheets. It had several telescopes and a few devices on a side table whirring and puffing. It was surrounded by windows which let in a soft, blue light that seemed to be coming from nowhere except the moon and stars themselves.
MiM quickly sat Nightlight down on the bed and ran off somewhere. When he came back, he had a torn piece of cloth and wrapped it around Nightlight's torso. MiM had never been more confused in his life. He had never healed a person before, unless you counted reviving them and healing fatal injuries along with it-
Wait a minute….
He could revive people with his staff… their fatal wounds would always be healed… so that meant….
MiM tripped while trying to run to the other room.
He needed his staff.
That's it for now! Don't be afraid to leave a review!