There on the ice stood the Nightmare King himself, Pitch Black. He moved as silently as a shadow, stepping over to hole in the ice. At the edges it was starting to freeze over again. Everything had gone according to his plan. Though the boy's belief in the Boogeyman was questionable at best, Pitch had been able to worm his way into his frightened head. It only took a touch of fear, a few seconds of hesitation for the plan to work. The boy wouldn't be changed as the Man in the Moon had planned, but the girl would receive the powers instead.
Up above Pitch, the Moon hung in the sky, seemingly full with discontent, worry even. A self-satisfied laugh rang through across the lake's frozen water as Pitch turned his eyes skyward. "Don't look at me like that, old friend," he said jovially. "You have your Guardians, and what have I? Barely anything left. I am alone, and I will tolerate that no longer. Besides..." Pitch looked down through the hole in the ice and readied himself for what would come next, and then looked back up at the Moon. "You're not afraid of one little girl, are you?"
No response came in the silent winter air. Pitch looked into the dark hole in the ice and all below was... pitch black, he thought to himself. Perfect. From the forest around the lake slunk dark shadows, called to Pitch by his magic. Though he wasn't strong as he once was, this was a trick he had worked very hard to perfect, for it would quite possibly be his last and grandest effort to remain the formidable force he had once been. With a flourish of his hands, he sent the shadows down into the frozen water. The seemed to disappear, being just as dark and the waters below the ice but from above, Pitch was still able to manipulate them.
Neither sinking nor rising in the cold lake water hung the body of a young girl, Emma Overland. With the Moon's magic already set to work on her, her hair had begun to turn white and her skin became much paler than it was before, Pitch intended to add a bit of his own magic to that transformation. The shadows cacooned the girl, wrapping her in an impenetrable darkness. That darkness began to seep into her bones, mingling with the frost-magic that it met there. Slowly, the shadows began to lift the girl, floating gently toward the surface of the water.
Pitch stood in anticipation by the hole and soon the shaped of a swirling black cloud broke the surface and rose into the air. Below it, the water back to freeze over, black tendrils intermingling with the ice crystals. Holding her shape just a few feet above the ice, the shadows parted so that the girl became visible. Her hair swirled around her, buffeted slightly by the movements of the shadows. It was so pale blue that it was almost white - as the Moon had planned - but its ends were black and the darker color seeped upward into the lighter, much as the shadows had seeped into the girl herself. The shadows lowered lowered her and as they did, Pitch stepped closer and ran a hand through her hair. She reminded him so much of... A small, sad smile formed on his lips, an expression without any mischievous or malicious intent. She's perfect.
As her feet touched down on the ice, she gasped, waking up after a very cold sleep. Her eyes immediately met his. She'd been born with sweet brown eyes, but now they were of the palest blue, with black flecks. As he looked down at her, his smile lost its sentimentality, becoming less soft and more victorious and proud. It had been a success. Starting now, everything would change.
Pitch Black looked at the girl with whom he would rise to power once again, and said, "Hello."
***
Jack sat by the fire in his family's small house, shivering violently. He was in warm, dry clothes and wrapped in blankets, and behind him at their table sat his mother, sobbing softly. His father had gone to let the town's leader know what had happened so that no other children would go try to play on the thin ice. None of them could bear to go to the lake where Jack's discarded skates still lay. Though it wasn't said out loud, they knew it was of no use. There was no way Emma could still be alive.
Despite the blankets, Jack couldn't stop shivering. He tried to force his jaw closed, biting down hard, but the shivering won out, causing his teeth to chatter loudly. That sound though, and the sound of his mother's crying, was drown out by another sound ringing in his ears: the sickening crack of ice and the splashing and rushing sound of water. He stared into the fire, his eyes darting side to side occasionally, but he wasn't seeing the flames. In his head, the scene replayed itself over and over again. Emma's eyes on him, full of fear and pleading, and then trust... and then fear again for a split second before the water claimed her. It was all Jack could see. Tears began leaking out of his eyes and he barely blinked, his expression one of sheer terror.
Eventually, Mrs Overland rose from her seat and set to preparing some warm broth for Jack. Despite her grief, she had to make sure her son would remain safe and healthy, which meant keeping him warm. The dip in the lake threatened terrible illness, and she wouldn't be able to bear losing both of them. Neither she nor her husband blamed their son for what had happened and she vowed to make sure he knew that.
Jack was hardly aware of his mother moving around until she sat next to him and helped him drink a bowl of broth. He was shaking too violently to hold the bowl himself and though she was shaking too, her hands were steadier than his, effected only by grief rather than that as well as the bitterest winter chill. The warmth of the broth seemed to burn him inside but Jack still shivered, the cold having bitten deeply into his bones. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be warm again, but it didn't matter. The physical chill was nothing compared to the pain of loss he was feeling. It was like his heart had followed his sister through the hole in the ice, leaving a hole in his chest that would never be filled again. He curled his body tightly within the blankets and his mother wrapped her arms around him, but still his sister's scream echoed in his ears. He knew his parents didn't blame him, but Jack would never forgive himself.