A/N: Wow guys thank you all for your support of the last chapter! My life has become incredibly busy these past few weeks with the end of my first college semester, the holidays, The Walking Dead, PROJECT GUARDIAN: The Rise and Fall (Seriously go read it after you finish this chapter if you haven't already, it's fantastic!) and work—plus a lovely case of writers block :/ sorry this is so late, but at least its here. I hope I got to everyone's review, but if for some reason I did not remember, please let me know so I can send you a PM! And now please enjoy the newest chapter of deliverance!

Disclaimer: I don't own RotG

Where we left off:

"Say goodbye."

Blubbering sobs.

"Bad boy."

Pitch wrenched the knee, breaking the leg at the joint. Jack screamed in anguish and collapsed against his captor. Within seconds, he was lax as sand swirled around his head, a shadowman sprung forth and slung the unconscious sprite over his shoulder. All too quickly, Pitch and his army had disappeared.

Chapter 13: From Whence It Came

The warriors of light made no move for nearly three beats. The boy they had labored so very strongly to protect had been snatched from their very arms. It almost didn't seem possible.

Seraphina wanted to scream. She wanted to scream with everything inside her screaming too, but her vocal cords were as paralyzed as her boy's and she was seeing red. Red and murder that danced a dance burning through her more viciously than any fire. Ban or no ban, she would rip the Nightmare King's head from his shoulders before the sun set on this day.

She was moving before she even registered that her feet had unchained themselves from the snow clad ground, rising into the air, her focus pointed south-west towards a certain pond and a certain cave. She would paint the snow red and black.

The high chittering of fairy wings and a slender hand on her shoulder gave the Mother of all Nature pause. She turned to face the Guardian of Memories.

"You cannot go alone, it would be a slaughter," the feathered woman said, eyes hard.

"For them it shall, I will not allow the mistakes of three hundred years past repeat themselves because of our incompetence."

"But not alone," Tooth insisted. "They are preparing for war, we need you here."

"Me? Here?" Seraphina saw red again. "He needs me! Jack needs me because if I do not come I will have abandoned him, handed him over to death and I will not do that. Not again."

Tooth looked down. "There is nothing more we can do for Jack than what is already in motion. We cannot storm a stronghold and hope to retrieve him unharmed. You know this as well as I. War is coming, and it is coming fast. Our victory on the battlefield is his only hope now."

"I refuse to believe that."

"Then you might as well kill him with your own hands because Pitch will slit his throat the moment you step out of line with his game. And if all you want is to hold him one last time, then you can watch him bleed to death in your arms. But if you want to save him, hold fast to the truth and level your head. You know as well as I what has been foretold. The great battle will be fought before the day is through and you know which side will be victorious. Now shod your feet and don your armor, today is a day of reckoning."

~o.o~

Jack awoke on the stone floor of his cell, aching and cold. Alone and abandoned. There was no source of light, the room bathed in shadows. It only took a moment for him to realize that there was someone hiding in them. Blue eyes boring into the left side wall, the winter child slid towards far wall, his leg dragging as he moved. He winced, eyes never leaving the shadows that danced in the corner.

A voice oozed from the darkness. "Quite intuitive, aren't we?"

The boy startled and slid back further. His shoulder blades hit the wall as a dark specter stepped into the center of the room. The eyes, however, were locked firmly on the wall from which he had emerged. The shadows writhed over each other.

"But then again, I would have been quite hurt if you hadn't realized I was here. We have been together for so long, Jökul, you must have picked up a bit of a sense for these types of things." Eclipse eyes turned towards the boy. His fear was potent in the air. "Did you miss me?"

The Nightmare King didn't really expect an answer. He hadn't heard a word from the spirit in over two hundred years. He doubted the boy even remembered how to speak. Even so, the child's heavy breaths and wide eyes were sufficient responses. It was time to have some fun.

"I certainly noticed your absence, Jökul." The King took a step towards the boy. "I was so distraught, I filled my halls with an army just to keep me company. I suppose now I will have to put it to use since you have come back home. As we speak, it's preparing to destroy your kidnappers, a feat you failed at so spectacularly. Only now, I have added a few more targets. The rabbit man, bird lady, sand man, and white beard will all die this very day, along with the lady in green with the long, black hair and the she-yeti with the tan fur."

Blue eyes snapped up to the grey face of his master. But there was no fear in his gaze in that instant. Only insatiable, undeniable hatred. The dark prince was at the winter boy's side in an instant, ashen hand striking out to grab ahold of the boy's jaw. Startled yet resolved, the child refused to let his fear shine through all the hate in his eyes.

"Well, well," Pitch crooned. "Two weeks away and they have managed to undo all my progress. I haven't seen that particular breed of hatred in well over two hundred years. Next thing I know, you'll be kicking at me again."

Blue eyes narrowed.

"Such courage. It will be a real treat to break it from you, Jack." The Nightmare King spat the moon-given name like it was poison. Jack didn't so much as bat an eye. With a smile, the Shadow King released the boy's jaw and gripped him hard by the hair on the back of his head. The teen hissed in pain and clenched his jaw to hold back a cry.

Pitch's other hand reached into his robe. As he withdrew it, globs of black ooze clung to his fingertips. It collected in his palm, writhing and hissing. It attempted a lurch towards Jack, but Pitch drew it back out of range. It squealed in discontent.

"This is Rākṣasa Bhūta, Jökul. Once a great phantom of the night and servant to the dark one, he was forced from his host fifty years ago. He made his way here over many years in various animals, jumping from one to another when they would die. When he finally arrived he was in a rabid dog, but without a soul to feast upon, he used up its life energy and it died. He craves the taste of lifeblood and though I fear you cannot provide him with a voice to speak with, you are an empty vessel, an immortal shell. Your power will serve as a substitute once he has devoured your soul."

The boy was shaking in fear, though the hatred never left his eyes.

"And when he has taken you and you live together in the same body for a short time before whatever is left of you succumbs, he will allow you the use of your eyes to watch as your hands destroy the woman you call mother." A twisted smile revealed rotting teeth. "And you, my dear child, will be able to do nothing but watch."

Jack had no voice to retort, no words to scream, but he had a mouth and words were not his only weapon. So when Pitch's face was close to his, Jack disobeyed Mother Nature and spat in the yellow eyes. Pitch released him in shock, hand coming to his face to wipe away the spit. And though Jack took that moment to scoot as far away from the beast as he could, Pitch was on him in an instant, forearm pinning him to the stone floor by his neck. His other hand was poised above Jack's mouth, Rākṣasa Bhūta straining to reach him. The boy closed his eyes, breathing shallow as he waited for the familiar feel of tar to fill his mouth as it forced its way down his throat. It was only now that he fully remembered the fear from the last time he had been taken.

His screams had only made the demon more vicious in its descent, tearing his throat in an attempt to elicit more fear. It had worked. Then came the pain and the melting. Horrible pangs of pain lancing though his body as he felt his mind slip away from him. He fought to keep it, but the being would not allow him this small favor. Then blackness like blankets settling over his eyes and cotton filling his ears. The being was nothing if it was not thorough. And he felt nothing after that, he was a nothing.

"No," Pitch seethed, his hair breaking its usual mold, preferring to hang in front of his face. "No not yet, Jökul. I prefer to drag this out a little while longer. I want the world and its precious protectors to watch as you choke down poison. I want to feel their fear as they realize you are dead. So for now, I'll just give you a small taste of what is to come."

Rākṣasa Bhūta disappeared into the folds of Pitch's robe, an impossible handful of black sand taking his place. He slammed his hand down on Jack's mouth with enough force to break his jaw, prying open his lips even as the sand squeezed between grey knuckles and slipped into Jack's nose. He kicked and fought as best he could, but eventually, Pitch worked the sand into his mouth and forced it down his throat. Much of it landed in his stomach, but some of the sand managed to snake its way into the boy's lungs as well. Pitch left him on the floor, hacking and heaving. The sand would not kill him, would not steal away his mind. But the pain would be excruciating, and the effects would render him too weak to fight back when the curtains opened on the final act.

~o.o~

The pole was caught in some maddening version of controlled chaos. There were feet pounding down every hall, clangs of weaponry being readied and armor strapped to furry arms. For their part, the guardians opened the chests they had locked away centuries ago and drew out the armor that had been smelted at each of their inaugurations. They were, after all, warriors at their core. Soldiers for the cause.

Bunny sighed as he pulled a pair of leather and iron grieves and painstakingly strapped them onto his powerful legs. They were heavier than he remembered, but then again, it was better than another broken leg. The breaks from Jökul had long since healed, but he had no desire to undergo that pain quite so soon. He could only hope that Jack was not in as much pain as he had been in.

And there it was. A thought of Jack. He was and yet was not the reason for this war. It was a strange phenomenon. This was a war fought over the soul of one creature caught in darkness, yet fought for all at the same time. It had long been foretold, this battle, and its many implications about the price for good and the beauty of a creator that would fight for one soul in a sea of many had long been the mantra for their cause. And now that the day of its fulfillment had arrived, Bunnymund couldn't help but wish that the lull they had enjoyed before had lasted just a bit longer. That Jack had been given just a few days more to heal.

Bunny shook his head. Thoughts such as these could cause a man great guilt and turmoil. There was no changing what had happened just as there was no changing what would happen that afternoon. It had long been foretold.

A knock on the door pulled him from his musings. A gruff admittance for entrance was all he could muster. A tall, slender frame filled his doorway. He looked with a sort of sad determination into the eyes of Mother Nature. Her robes were gone, replaced with earthy leather pants, boots, and bronze plated grieves sealed with rivulets and embossed with prints of all of nature's beauty. The breastplate she wore was bronze, matching in hue the helmet that cinched around the top of her head, under the thick braid, and swooped to cover each of her temples. The cloak of winters chill still rested atop each of her shoulders, held in place to the breastplate with broaches. A sword was clipped to the belt around her hips. Artemis herself could not have looked more terrifyingly beautiful.

She shifted uncomfortably and Aster realized that he had been staring a little too long.

"Sorry. S'jus that Ah haven't seen ya in full battle garb in hundreds o' years. I fergot how jus the look of ya can instill fear in the heart even while a man wonders at yer beauty."

Her eyes dropped briefly and she gave him a small smile as she knelt beside him and helped him lace up his wrist bracers.

"I have another favor to ask you, old friend."

"Anythin."

She closed her eyes briefly and opened them a moment later, something akin to great sorrow flashing across her features. "I fear that we will loose him this day, Aster. He's a strong boy but he cannot fight this battle and win. If we fail him and he is lost…" she paused and swallowed before she continued. "If you get a clear shot at him…I need you to take him down."

Aster's jaw dropped. "I…no."

"No?"

"No, Sera, I won't hurt tha' kid! Not again!"

"You have to!" She spat. "He is dangerous. Beyond all of my control."

"Yeh we witnessed 'is danger, but Sera ya can't seriously think there's anythin' 'e could do ta take down an army! Nuthin tha could warrant death!"

"Yes there is! You have not seen him at his full potential, at his full power. His eyes go stark white and the storm takes over. He is a phoenix of ice and death trapped in the body of an eternal child. Pitch no doubt plans to unleash that force. Aster, if he works up enough power and becomes lost to it, he has the potential to encase entire continents in ice. He will kill millions and plunge the world into another ice age. And if that happens, we will loose. Pitch will loose. Everyone and everything will die." She paused. "This war is not Armageddon. He is."

A weight as heavy as death itself settled into Aster's chest. He felt himself nod slightly. For the good of the world, he would do what she asked of him.

"Thank you," she whispered. Moments later, she stood and left him to his musings.

"Give me strength," he whispered as he looked to the sky. "But give it only if there is no other way."

~o.o~

Deep in a cavern, under the ground, a winter child lay against a stone wall and sobbed. He heaved again against his own will, gagging on air until bloody sand and bile found its way up. He had long since stopped trying to move, it only caused more pain.

Dull blue eyes rotated upwards when the steel door to his cell opened. The Nightmare King entered, followed closely by a shadowman. Pitch stopped in the doorway, disgust flashing briefly across his face at the disaster within the cell. The shadowman stepped across the pools of bloody vomit without aversion—he had no sense of smell—and picked up the boy. Jack fought him briefly, but the arms that held him were strong and he was so very tired. A stab of pain across his abdomen sealed the deal and he stopped bucking.

Pitch smiled as his winter child stopped fighting captivity and lay limply in the arms of his captor. He ran his fingers briefly through the white shock of hair as it passed him and ordered the shadowman back to his ranks of demons, nightmares, and all manner of darkness dwellers.

Then he opened shadow portals and sent his contingencies through to the battlefield. There was only one place suitable to a war of this importance: The Plains of Megiddo in the deserts of the Middle East. Where better to stage the beginning of the new ice age?

The Time has come Warriors of Light. Gather your armies and kiss your children, the sun will not set on a world left untouched. Only one will reign victorious.

~o.o~

Even in the middle of the day the moon still shone down brightly through the skylights of the Pole. The entirety of the army of light was gathered in the globe room and the level below it, centered around the five that would lead them into the fray. They were gathered to receive their blessing.

"Is dis de day, old friend?" North asked, his heavy armor doing little to change his stance.

It is, my Guardians. Gather in the Valley of Megiddo, there the armies of darkness await, and it is there that I shall meet you.

"Vill de prophecies be fulfilled dis day den?"

A deep, resounding chuckle filled the air.

Oh my Guardians, the prophecies were fulfilled at the beginning of all things. The battle is won, you only need swing your swords in the direction you are pointed. You are victors, each and every one of you. Go now with blessings plenty and claim your victory.

A great battle cry shook the very foundations of the pole as magic snow globes shattered and portals sent hundreds of solders to the battlefield. The Guardians went last, casting one fond, last look at the Pole. The battle may be a guaranteed success, but that didn't mean that their lives were. So they enjoyed the magic and wonder in the air….one…last….time…..

And stepped through the portal.

Next Stop: WAR.

Wow okay I had to cut this sucker in half it was just too big! I might could have cut it after the next paragraph instead of this one but I thought "ehhhhh bettah not" and then the nonsense of that last sentence and all its cliff hanger-y ness was born. Voila.

I'll tell you what though, I promise to post the second half by next week, but if you really wow me with the reviews I just might post it sooner :) But rest assured there will not be another large gap!

Thank you all for sticking with this story even with all the breaks, I know its frustrating, but I promise I am going to really step it up now! You guys rock!

-Victoria