Chapter Thirteen - Lest We Forget.

Hallow didn't dream when she slept.

She had thoughts, things half formed and incomplete in a pit of darkness. But they were not dreams. She hadn't dreamed in centuries. The Sandman couldn't reach her, and her own mind preferred to drown her in memories. So sleeping was more like death with a less permanent state of being. She lay calm and still on the bed. Unmoving save for the soft rise and fall of her breathing. The sheets moves with soft rustling noises around her, like the movement of the ocean waves on the sand. Orange hair fanned out around her face, some still flecked red with her blood. Cuts half healed across her body - her wrists, her chest, her legs, her throat. No longer bleeding sluggishly but still not quite healed over. And beneath it all was the scars on her old heart, nestled inside a child's chest

Hallow did not dream when she slept.

That did not mean she didn't remember.

No one sees her. She walks back through her village, trying to cat people's attention. She is met with only blank faces. Eyes that look straight through her. No ones sees her because she is not alive. The corpses they bury have no belief in them. They had their lives, and the dead have no place amongst the living, so they are not seen by them. They do not expect to see her. So they do not. She screams at people as she passes. Begging for a response, a reply. Anything to stop the crushing emptiness threatening to consume her. The children she once played with pass her by, still content to continue their routines without her. The fields she once helped tend are full of new hands now. She had her time, now it is over.

But where does she go? Tears begin to fall as she looks around. She has nowhere now. Wrapped up only in the ragged Fae clothes she had designed for the festival, she falls to her knees and sobs. She knows the spirit world, and with it the afterlife, exists. But she knows not how to reach it. Or what would be waiting when she did.

Only when the dim dawnlight is cast into shadow over her does she look up. A man stands in front of her, dressed in darkness, his hair in spikes. He watches her, and in turn she watches him. For a moment, there is stillness between the two, before the man – creature? She is not sure what to call him. – kneels, resting a hand on her cheek and brushing away her tears.

"Good morning, Hallow Eve." She does not move when he calls her by name. This man she has not met. Somehow, it does not surprise her. Although she knows it should, no one is turning to this man either. No one sees the two of them, plain as the morning light. He is like her, and that calms her. Despite the worry that she knows should be present, there is only relief. Someone can see her. She is not alone. Surely, if there is one more will follow. Accepting the hand to help her up, she gives a small smile,

This was going to be alright.

It was with a broken sob that her eyes opened again, yellow irises overflowing with tears. They sting when they drip into the first cuts on her neck, but she makes no move to brush them away. She had been a blind child. She had been so worried about being forgotten, about being alone, that she had latched onto the first thing that offered her any hope of company. And it had simply driven her further away from the world she had tried to desperately to stay a part of.

Slowly sitting up, she looked at the bandages covering the worst of the cuts, wincing when the stitches in her abdomen protested her sitting up. Lady Mab had taken more than usual again. If she did that a third time, something would have to be done. Picking up the glass of purple liquid Hallow knew would have been left for her by Sally, she downed the glass in a few long gulps, setting it down again after. It was not the first time she had relived that memory. It seemed to be a popular one, reminding her of her biggest mistake. Looking out of the window at the huge expanse of land, she though about how much power this place took. It would not be able to run like this forever. Even with Lady Mab running it for six months a year while she recuperated, it would eventually collapse in on itself. And if she did not watch her power more carefully, she knew it would be sooner than later.

"Only inevitable" she sighed. She knew she was weak. She knew she needed belief to keep this place running, belief to give her the power she needed. Sometimes it shocked her she could still stand most days. Flopping back onto the pillows, she mumbled to her self again, "over one thousand years…and not a single child ever realised I was there…" she gave another broken sob, burying her head into the black sheets until she could control herself again. There was only so long a person could keep something this big up.

Unwillingly, she began to wonder how Jack had done it. Stayed strong all the time he was ignored. If it hurt her, it must have hurt him too. But she knew of what had transpired between the guardians and Pitch. Even whilst she was asleep, some of her creatures walked the Earth and brought her back stories. Jack had not given in to Pitch. Despite promises she knew first hand he could fulfil. The girl closed her eyes again, resting there, arms heavy and pale from the lack of blood, wounds still healing into what would be silvery scars for a few weeks before fading away to pale skin. Jack was different to the other guardians. Despite how she had snapped when he arrived, despite how she had accused him of prejudice and wanting to poke fun at the one who made such mistakes, he hadn't done anything but try to find out more about her. A small part of her, buried past the hurt and the hate and the betrayal, wanted to trust him. Wanted to let someone in again. Wanted friendship that she had so dearly missed.

The stronger part, that reminded her of her mistakes, the part that existed in the tattoo over her heart, the key resting around her neck, etched into the scars on her body, that lay around her shoulders like a shroud and followed her every day, told her not to. It warned her of the dangers of trusting someone. Of letting someone into your life when you knew next to nothing of them. That part of her remembered every day what she had done and what had been done. For if Jack knew the full extent of the damage and destruction she had caused, there would be nothing in all the Earth or After-earth that would make him continue to talk to her.

Jill looked up to the castle as she felt her mistress awaken. As she continued planting each pumpkin seed, row by neat little row into the soil, she allowed herself to think back on Jack Frost. The Prince of Winter. Guardian of Fun. Mistress Eve help no personal vendetta against him, but there would be nothing stopping her from destroying him if he did something wrong here. She smiled,

"Jack Frost treads a thin line here, does he not, Miss Sally?" turning to the ragdoll, she gave a soft smile. It was returned in kind with a thin stretching of the stitched mouth,

"You could at least pretend you don't know when someone is nearby, Jill."

"Where would the fun be in that? Now my dear, I find it unlikely you came here to talk to me about that" Looking up at her sack cloth face, Sally looked away from the intense violet eyes. The two were not friends, by any means. But they shared a close understanding of what Hallow needed even when she didn't. It brought them closer as individuals.

"I suppose I'm just worried for her. There is so much going on, and this is going to be our biggest Hallowe'en yet. She doesn't have the strength to continue as she is, and I can't help but feel like there's something in the wind-"

"You feel it too?" Jill cut in. Sally nodded, looking down at the Spritekin, "You're right. Something is foul in the forests and the Mountains. It feels like it is waiting for something, my kin speak of the phoenix birds fleeing to higher ground and the gargoyles seeming afraid. I fear for her myself, Miss Sally. The things behind that gate will crush her in the state she has driven herself to over the last few years. She is not like the other guardians nor does she need to be. But she is not strong enough to stand alone.

Sally sighed sadly, looking up to where she knew Hallow's room to be. "She'll have Jack, won't she?"

"She will have us all if we are willing to stand with her. I simply hope it does not come to that."

"Time is running out for us all if it does though. What do we do if she can't fight this, if we can't fight with her?"

Jill's wings flicked and settled. She knew the answer, though she did not like it. Whatever was coming would come, and if they could not fight with her…

"We fight for her."

So you're starting to see a little more into the plot now. There will be more to this with luck, but this is my first fic and also the furthest I've ever gotten writing a fanfic (about 20,000 words) and I will do my best not to abandon it. I have a very busy two weeks coming up so I won't get much done, but I'll try to keep writing in my spare time so you won't be waiting three months again. I still want to keep the happy chapters with Hallow and Jack, but this was a necessary chapter. If you have any questions raised so far, such as what's going to happen and what was up with Hallow and the Fae, please ask in a review or message so I make sure I answer them.