A/N: Hey, you! Yeah, you! Thank you so much for your continuous support! Don't worry, I didn't die while on that short hiatus, I was just extremely busy (plus, this chapter took a while to write and edit)! So, I'm really sorry that I had to keep you all waiting for so long! I'm hoping that the length of this chapter will make up for it though. Anyway, welcome back to The Serendipity of a Misunderstood Winter Spirit! This chapter has a flashback (from two days ago when Jack encountered those spring spirits). The start and end of the flashback will be indicated by this "❀❁❀" symbol. So, lay back, eat some snacks, and relax (I wrote this in rhyming fashion because this chapter is pretty long)!

So, without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 7: A Change of Heart, Asking for Reasons, and a Boy's Fear

"Can you believe the nerve of that little frost imp?" Camden, one of the many superintendents of the Spring Court, said through his teeth to surrounding spring spirits, "daring to let snow fall again after being taught a lesson!"

Nearby, a spring nymph clad in a purple-blue, chiton-like dress, walked away from the ranting group at a faster rate upon the mention of Jack Frost's most recent, impertinent act. This spirit, Sarila Fioralba Thaw, lowered her light brown-haired head as she walked away briskly, hoping to draw less attention to herself.

Of course, she didn't want to get involved in their conversation; she was simply just passing through Mother Nature's Palace when she overheard the bigoted spring spirits talking up a storm about their hatred of Jack Frost like no tomorrow.

Admittedly, before she had actually met him, she did the same with her friends. But now, from all the dirty looks that spirits gave her now and the hushed whispers of gossip, she was certain that they all knew what she had done that day when a few spring spirits including herself decided to teach the infamous winter spirit a lesson. So, Sarila avoided the very mention of Jack Frost lest her actions of disloyalty were brought up as well. By now, she was very lucky to not have been seen by the spring spirits she went with, especially May Flowers.

Soon, this evasive spring herald reached the giant carved doorway leading out of the Court of Spring and into the lonely hallway where few spirits wandered, and sunlight peaked through the far wall composed of entwined vines and various other plants. It was a sanctuary where she could relax her nerves and not have to worry about being scornfully scrutinized by the very same seasonal Court she belonged to.

It wasn't always this way, she knew. Pondering through it as she walked down the corridor, she remembered that it had all started after she had refused to take part in teaching Jack Frost a lesson almost two days ago now.

In short, Sarila had a big change of heart.

As a spring spirit, she had always been told that winter spirits were bad, especially the one known as Jack Frost. These spirits were the ones that brought the death and the cold that Spring sought to protect life from. The season of Winter was a natural process, she knew, but when the heralds of Winter were callous and unrelenting towards all forms of life, that is where the Court of Spring and its spirits drew the line.

And it wasn't just the Court of Spring; despite their differences, the Courts of Summer and Autumn also thought the exact same of Winter and its seasonal heralds¾that the entire Court itself was an utter disgrace, more or less a plague upon the Earth.

Moreover, she had definitely heard of the lone winter spirit, Jack Frost. Freezing innocent spirits solid, cruel pranks that messed with the other seasons, and killing humans all seemed to be his passion. He even claimed that Winter was "fun" because of these reasons. In short, Jack Frost was a cruel, malicious, troublemaking spirit that deserved to be put in his place for all the wrongs he had caused. Not surprisingly, most considered him to be a mistake of Mother Nature and hoped he would eventually fade on his own somehow.

The saddest part?

Sarila had wholeheartedly believed all of this without a doubt.

Granted, almost all winter spirits she had ever happened to bump into were rather churlish, but she had never truly known them for who they really were or even seen the one known as Jack Frost himself. However, these rumors and notions of them were all that she had heard continuously throughout her existence so they couldn't have been that far-fetched…right?

Wrong.

About two days ago, when she was invited by May Flowers, an esteemed and popular superintendent of the Spring Court, to track down Jack Frost and give him a piece of her mind, Sarila gladly jumped at the opportunity as any sane spirit would and went along with a few other spring spirits (Verde, Landon, April, and of course, May) to deliver their "message."

Undeniably, a while back, Jack Frost had destroyed the Ritual of the First Flower, a ceremony crucial to the Court of Spring and especially important to May Flowers herself, by killing all of the flowers with his frost. Sarila hadn't been there to witness his act of audacity herself, but she had heard it was despicable, and everyone in the Court felt that some payback was definitely long overdue.

At that moment, Sarila reached a secluded stone bench at the corner of the corridor next to the far wall. She smoothed out her dress after sitting down, and once settled, she resumed her thoughts.

She was definitely no stranger to what they would do to Jack Frost; she had heard many stories of seasonal spirits, specifically of the wintery kind, that messed with Spring. In short, no one messed with Spring without getting away with it.

It was the same for the other seasons too. No one messed with Summer without getting away with it. No one messed with Autumn without getting away with it. And, more or less so, no one messed with Winter without getting away with it. For the most part, the other nature spirits stayed out of their way.

And although they all knew that Mother Nature disapproved of this system (she expected them all to be familial-like or at least nice to one another while even the Supreme Ministers of the Seasons seemed apathetic towards her idea by continuously quarreling amongst themselves), there was definitely a strong unspoken rivalry and even prejudice between the four seasonal types that would probably never be extinguished.

And how could it be anyways, Sarila thought. They were all way too different. Spring spirits were usually gentle but could be rather practical and demanding at times; Summer spirits with their hot-headed yet passionate and carefree personas overwhelmed most; Autumn spirits were generally meticulous and snarky enough to drive someone insane; and winter spirits were reclusive, indifferent, harsh and Jack Frost was the absolute worst of them.

In short, Jack Freakin' Frost definitely deserved what he had coming.

And that was exactly what Sarila thought until she actually saw him for the first time.❀❁❀

That morning, almost two days ago by now, when they had found him trying to flee on the North Wind somewhere above Pennsylvania, it was still cold despite it already being Spring. And as if the chill in the air brought on by his presence wasn't enough fuel their ire further, looking down on the surrounding landscape, it was very noticeable that frost laced every surface, causing even more anger to bubble within Sarila and the others. How dare he continue to spread Winter when it was Spring.

After Verde and Landon knocked the icy spirit out of the sky, and he had made contact with the ground with a harsh thud, Sarila watched from a short distance away as his arms were pinioned behind his back, and his lean form struggled against the grip of the two strong spirits of Spring.

Suddenly, Sarila's expression of loathing changed in an instant, and uncertainty bloomed within her as her purple-blue eyes looked him over.

His whitish-silvery hair that was now disheveled, pale skin that was now starting to glisten with sweat, and icy-blue eyes that seemed like they could shatter ice itself made it clear to her that he was definitely a winter spirit.

Other than that, he looked nothing like she expected the infamous Jack Frost to look like.

For starters, from hearing all that he's done for three centuries, the spring spirit imagined him to be more…more…well, intimidating and physically older-looking. He physically looked to be about her age, and he seemed to be well-built but slender (as most winter spirits were) and not as sturdy-looking as she thought he would be. This paired with his modern-day apparel (a "hoodie" she had heard some human children call it) that was, of course, blue (a color of the Winter Court) seemed to give off the impression of a harmless teenager. However, the defiant and hateful glint in his cold eyes assured her that looks could be deceiving.

Scrunching her brows together, Sarila tried to regain her hostile expression, but almost immediately, her face fell; something just didn't seem right. Looking back at the winter spirit's restrained form again, taking revenge just didn't feel as satisfying as she had thought it would.

As May Flowers and her older sister April Showers made their way to stand in front of and make themselves known to the retrained winter spirit, Sarila couldn't help but not move out of sudden hesitancy. After Jack Frost glowered at the two superintendents of the Spring Court in front of him, he shifted his icy glare directly at her and she froze.

Their eyes locked for a few moments. Then, with his dark brows still furrowed, he looked down to her hip where the bandage-filled pocket of her dress was. Earlier, she had stuffed the pocket with some bandages as a precaution in case anyone sustained some type of injury from facing the dangerous winter spirit. However, it seemed pointless considering he was so quickly captured and restrained. Presently, Sarila had no idea that she'd been holding her breath until the winter spirit's frosty gaze left her entirely, and she sighed softly out of relief.

Meanwhile, all around them, the East Wind (just as April and May "commanded" it to) and the North Wind (just as Jack Frost probably "commanded" it to) were both battling, causing the trees to sway and debris to be thrashed around as the two powerful forces howled throughout the landscape; for the most part, the East Wind seemed to be triumphant over its celestial sibling, a great sign for the spring seasonals.

Moments passed, and as her fellow spring spirits continued to threaten the notorious herald of winter, the warmth of their aura began to take its toll, and Sarila began to see right through him like thin ice.

Then, like an ice-cold wave, full remorse washed over her as she saw the pity-inspiring look in his eyes.

He was scared.

He was tired.

He was in pain.

He had feelings. He was just another spirit. What was she doing? What were they doing? No matter how horrible a spirit may be, no one deserved cruel punishment inflicted upon them. In spite of her original notions of Jack Frost, Sarila was disgusted that it had come to this. Why didn't the others see it in that instant that what they were doing was so very wrong?

The sound of a voice she had never heard before followed by a sharp smack snapped her out of her thoughts.

Sarila immediately looked back up to see Jack Frost shoved into the ground with a handprint beginning to form on his left cheek and a furious-looking May Flowers towering over him, her wavy honey-blonde hair almost seemed to be bristling with ire as her normally sweet face formed a nasty scowl.

"Shut it, Frost!" May fumed without restraint, "I'm tired of you always ruining things! You never learn your lesson, and I hope this is the last I ever have to see of you, you cold waste of space!"

May then rose her hand again to strike, and something inside of Sarila snapped as she saw the winter seasonal wince away.

At the drop of a hat, just before May brought her hand down, Sarila sprung out in front of her, grabbed her wrist, and the rest is history.

Time slowed for Sarila as she realized what she had just done; not only had she protected Jack Frost, an enemy of Spring Court, but she had also just blocked the strike of one of the superintendents of the Spring Court. Briefly, her stomach had twisted into knots, but she continued to stand her ground as she stared sternly back into the shocked eyes of May.

At the same time, Sarila could sense a pair of surprised icy-blue eyes gaping at her back. After sending her group a glare of disapproval, she turned around and looked down to see that her suspicion was correct; Jack Frost's eyes seemed to be filled with the shock that someone actually stood up for him, and to Sarila, it was all worth it.

In the end, even though she tried to stop what was to come, the spring spirit knew that April, May, Landon, and Verde were as stubborn as she had been mere minutes before. And with her new sense of moral, she couldn't bear to watch what they would do to Jack Frost so she took her leave, vowing to herself that she would return when they left.

And now, everyone knew. She could see it in their eyes every time they passed her while walking through the Palace. They knew. They knew that Sarila Fioralba Thaw was a traitor to her own Seasonal Court.

Sarila just prayed to fate with all her heart that they never found out that she had healed him afterward. She would like to not think about what they would do to her if they ever found out.

All in all, to her, it was rather odd; she had betrayed her own Court for the sake of a winter spirit that was known to be very dangerous, despicable, and cruel.

It was simply fantastic.

Knowing herself better than anyone else, she was not one to rebel or speak out against injustices she had noticed the Court possess before, but what she had witnessed that day had really irked her.

What surprised Sarila the most out of everything that happened, however, was that Jack Frost didn't seem to be as…evil as everyone said he was and she believed him to be. Granted, she approached him the second time when he was injured, which meant even if he did try to hurt her, he really couldn't (plus, the specific kind of spring spirit that she was deterred most harmful effects of the cold that would typically harm other spring spirits), but he still didn't seem to be the spirit that everyone ranted about. In fact, although extremely hostile at first (especially towards her when she had confronted him about treating his injuries), he overall just seemed…very sad, lonely and…misunderstood. Surprisingly, whilst getting his injuries tended to, he was more scared of her than the other way around considering he was the one that was supposed to be dangerous.

In the afternoon, by the time she came back to find him sitting upright on the ground, his breath rasping, and his fatigued body beaten and bruised, her heart broke a little. At any second, he seemed like he could collapse. Unsure of how to approach him, the spring nymph hid behind a tree and waited a few moments. Peaking out from behind it, she observed him while the chilling North Wind murmured softly throughout the land.

In the winter spirit's right hand was a wooden staff (a conduit, she presumed) she didn't know he had before. From what she could tell from her vantage point, he had a black eye, split lip, bloodied nose, and the way his left arm bent and his breathing rasped made her stomach tie itself in knots.

The spring spirit could not believe that she was out in a forest somewhere in Pennsylvania alone and about to approach Jack Frost and ask if he wanted her, a spring seasonal, to treat his injuries that were caused by her very own "friends" earlier. Realizing that he would probably not be too happy to see her again, she briefly debated whether or not she should just leave him alone to fend for himself. Her compassion, however, was too strong to ignore. So, taking a deep breath, Sarila stood out from behind the tree to reveal herself, and the murmuring of the North Wind instantly died.

Sensing the disturbance, Jack Frost snapped his head in Sarila's direction, and his wary eyes landed on her as she prepared for his reaction. It only took the winter spirit a second to realize what she was, and after faltering a bit, he shot up into the air quicker than she thought possible in his condition and landed on a nearby tree branch. With a threatening glare and stance, he pointed his staff in her direction, ready to deliver a bolt of fatal ice that she'd seen many winter spirits use before.

Regardless of this unnerving fact, Sarila remained unfazed; being a "Thawing" spring spirit, the spring warmth she radiated exceeded most other spirits in her Court so she was kind of impervious to most cold-based attacks. This fact, along with his weakened form rendered him rather harmless so the light-brown haired spirit calmly stood her ground as he glared on at her with as much anger as he could muster.

And just when the spring spirit thought he couldn't look any fiercer, their eyes locked and he seemed to have recognized her because, with a wave of his staff in her direction, an icy bolt was produced with her name on it. However, the ice attack never hit Sarila and just melted as it neared her instead (as she expected), much to the winter spirit's surprise.

Sarila had remained calm throughout the rest of their interaction, but after trying to convince the infamous winter herald that she was just trying to help and receiving nothing but angry shouts of incredulity from him, she was sure that Jack Frost was going to be just fine on his own; his stubborn and standoffish attitude was persistent throughout their entire conversation, much to her unexpressed annoyance.

But then, when he turned to fly off the tree branch and make his leave, he teetered, lost his footing, and her purple-blue eyes widened as she watched him fall. Before Sarila could even attempt to catch him, an invisible force she could only assume was the North Wind itself caught him mid-fall and placed him gently on the ground, his back to it.

Cautiously, the spring herald walked over to the unmoving form of Jack Frost and awkwardly prodded his shoulder once with her bare foot.

Yep, he was unconscious…for quite a while it seemed, too.

Well, Sarila thought as she took a step back, this just got a little easier.

True, it would be easier to treat his injuries since he was unconscious and no longer squabbling at her, but…

Sarila had never actually treated a winter spirit before.

She had healed many spring spirits, even some summer and autumn spirits, sure, but she had never treated a winter spirit before. Understandably, their standoffish and reclusive nature convinced her that even if they had been injured, they'd rather lick their own wounds instead of having them treated by a spring spirit. As a result, she wasn't quite sure what precautions she should take. Sarila did know, however, that winter spirits needed the cold to heal.

But how would she get him somewhere cold?

She would haul him herself using little breezes, but that might take too long. Plus, she thought as she gave a worried glance at his sweat-glistened face, if I carry him for too long, he might just melt…

She had the ability to teleport, but the downside was that she could only take herself.

She could call upon the East Wind (if it would actually listen to her for once), but then it would know that she was trying to help Jack Frost, and undoubtedly spill her secrets to the other spring seasonals. Plus, she doubted that the North Wind wanted to deal with its sibling after everything that had happened recently.

Speaking of said Wind, Sarila noticed that it began to murmur something. Being a spring seasonal, however, she couldn't understand what the Wind of Winter was trying to tell her. Sarila thought it was odd because the North Wind should've known that the only Wind a spring spirit could automatically understand was the East Wind, the Wind of Spring. Nonetheless, the Wind of Winter continued to speak, gently tugging at Sarila's long, wavy light-brown hair and causing her dress to billow.

After a few moments of this, Sarila shook her head at the air and spoke, "I don't understand."

The North Wind didn't cease, though. Instead, it focused its power on Jack's staff, which his right hand still clutched, and lifted the conduit into the air a little.

It wants me to…take his staff?

After giving a small shrug and a nod, Sarila walked towards the unconscious winter spirit, and stooped down to take the staff but found it was secured in a rather tenacious grip. So, hesitantly, she pulled his cool, pale fingers off of it one by one.

The moment she pried the staff from Jack Frost's hand completely, the language of the North Wind immediately filled her mind. Although taken aback at first by the sudden intake of new knowledge, Sarila quickly understood what She was trying to tell her:

'If you carry him, I shall take you both north, where 'tis cold and the warmth of spring cannot find him so easily.'

After Sarila listened to the ancient being, staff still in hand, she stood confidently in place and gave a nod. Truth be told, Sarila was shocked that the North Wind was so willing to talk to her, a spring spirit nonetheless. Usually, the East Wind was so hard to get to talk, and when She did talk, She only ever talked to certain spring spirits that she favored. Maybe with the North Wind it was different, maybe She talked to or at least tried to talk to everyone she came across. At that thought, Sarila felt a small pang of jealousy swell within her as she slightly leered down at the unconscious herald of winter at her feet.

That small pang of jealousy vanished almost immediately, however, when Sarila's purple-blue eyes recognized the small grimace of pain present on Jack Frost's unconscious face. The herald of spring quickly sat down to his right and looked over his torso, trying to figure the best place to pick him up without hurting him more than he already was.

After tucking loose strands of her light-brown hair out of her face, she quickly scanned over his visible injuries, her gaze eventually landing on the ones that marred his face. A split lip, bloody nose, and a black eye were what she had noticed from a distance beforehand, but up close, she could see the total damage which was composed of small scratches and bruises that made her heart hurt.

She leaned in closer, put her hand gingerly on the side of his face, and sighed. Jack Frost was probably not as cold as he should be.

At this rate, the spring maiden realized that she would have to wait to examine his injuries later if she wanted him to remain in good health. The only problem with that was that she just couldn't pull her eyes away.

Even with the blemishes, Sarila admired the way his face was angled and the shape of his nose, mouth, and eyebrows. His abnormally pale skin and silvery-white hair were as foreign to her as they were strangely beautiful. And his striking eyes, when opened, of course, reminded her of what she imagined the sunlit sky of Antarctica to look like, cold but undoubtedly wondrous.

It only took her a moment to realize that she'd never seen a winter spirit in such a vulnerable state.

Without warning, the North Wind howled fervently, and Sarila snapped her head up, startled.

Whether the Wind of Winter howled with laughter or impatience, Sarila couldn't tell. The spring spirit was too busy fathoming what just transpired and blushed. The North Wind howled again, and Sarila shook her head and focused on the task at hand; fully tending to and checking on his injuries would have to wait for now.

Eventually and ever so awkwardly, with her arm underneath his own and wrapped around his limber back (while avoiding his injured arm), Sarila managed to pick Jack Frost's limp body up. And with the infamous winter spirit's staff tightly gripped in her hand, she nodded to the North Wind, and they were off.

It only took an hour before Sarila couldn't take the cold anymore. During their flight, the landscape had changed drastically, as did the temperature. Being a "Thawing" spring spirit, she was sure that the warmth she radiated would've made the cold, unforgiving temperatures of a taiga somewhere in the northern wilds of Québec somewhat bearable. And it did…for a while, at least. Now, however, even with the North Wind encouraging her, she just couldn't go any further; her hands and feet were becoming painfully numb.

Plus, she was certain that Jack Frost was close to gaining consciousness because he had shifted in her hold a few seconds ago. It would be best if he woke up on the ground and not in the sky being carried by a stranger.

"This is as far as I can go…" Sarila had murmured whilst she looked up to the sky, hoping the Wind of Winter would understand her dilemma.

Slowly, the Wind of Winter let them descend until her bare feet reached the snowy ground. Upon contact, the cold shot through her body and she shivered. After a good moment of looking around, she saw a snowbank about thigh-high and trod over to it before laying the winter spirit down in it.

The effect was immediate, and Sarila wondered if she had imagined it; Jack Frost had visibly relaxed in the morbidly freezing snow with what seemed to be a sigh of relief. She, on the other hand, simply shivered once more but remained steady while leaning in to look over his wounded form, holding onto his shoulder for support.

After a few moments, Sarila remembered that she was still holding onto his staff. So, she laid it across his torso to reach into her pocket for the roll of bandages with her new free hand.

That was a mistake, it seemed.

Immediately, Jack Frost snapped his eyes open to glare directly at her and she paused and retracted her arm, wondering if he had been awake for long. He did initially startle her, but she remained calm whilst staring back into his fiercely threatening eyes with the softest, most trust-yearning gaze she could muster.

Sarila saw in his cold eyes that the winter spirit before her truly thought that she meant to harm him, probably thanks to the countless spring spirits that she had heard harass him in the past. Understandably, mere hours ago, she used to be one of those same spirits after all. That is, before her change of heart, of course.

Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, the light-brown haired teen kneeled down beside him, the top of the snow bank now at her stomach. She tried her best to not cause alarm as she cautiously reached over to what she presumed was a sprained arm, his dangerous glare still piercing. When she had pulled up his blue sleeve to examine the injury, he sneered at the contact in protest.

Ignoring him, Sarila easily recognized what seemed to be a large bruise surrounding his swollen elbow, and sympathy bloomed within her; it looked terrible, and it definitely needed to be wrapped in order to decrease mobility which would allow it to heal. Meeting his gaze with a look sympathy, she hoped he understood that she really did want to help him.

"Please," she began, her tone pleading. "Hold still…"

In response, the white-haired spirit produced an incredulous look while seemingly lost in thought. Taking that as an okay, Sarila went to reach into her pocket again but faltered slightly as her knee sank into the snow beneath her, causing her to accidentally tighten the grip on his injured arm. This elicited a small whine and a grimace of pain from the winter seasonal, breaking him out of his thoughts as he sent an angry glare in her direction. Sarila sent a fleeting apologetic look to him but resumed her action of reaching into her pocket for the bandages she had.

That was also a mistake, it seemed.

Almost immediately, in an attempt that she could only assume was in self-defense, the white-haired spirit struggled vigorously against her grasp as she continued to reach into her pocket. The gray sky above fervently began to release snowflakes, signaling his distress and panic to her further. And to say the least, the spring spirit's heart broke once more at seeing the expression he made when he finally understood that she actually wanted to help him, bandages now held out in full view.

It was like he was stunned, his beautiful eyes wide with shock as his hostile demeanor melted. His gaze then met her's, and she elaborated her motive yet again, the cold making her shiver.

"I told you, I-I wanted to help. So, please…just be still, okay?"

In response, the snowflakes immediately ceased their descent from the sky, and the winter herald seemed lost as he tried to make sense of what she had just told him. And just when Sarila had thought he would remain unmoved, he sighed. Then, the spring spirit watched gratefully as he relaxed back into the snow bank, utterly exhausted, it seemed; he was finally convinced.

Without another moment to lose, she tucked the loose strands of her long, light-brown hair back behind her ear and went to work with her bandages on his sprained arm. With his elbow slightly bent, she slowly began to wrap around it. The spring seasonal tried to be as gentle as possible when doing so, but she still saw the winter seasonal wince and grimace a little at the contact. Pity filled her expression but disappeared as she saw him catch glimpse of it. And as she continued to wrap his arm, Sarila noticed something interesting from the corner of her eye that unexpectedly made her heart flutter.

Jack Frost was eyeing her. She imagined that she had the very same look whenever she had...admired…his face earlier…

Without thinking, Sarila flickered her purple-blue eyes to his and watched with unexpressed mirth as he startled slightly and looked away, suddenly fascinated with examining the staff in the grip of his other hand. Sarila went along with it, acting like she wasn't even aware of what had happened. Before looking away to finish up wrapping his arm, however, she noticed a light purple-blue tint quickly flush his cheeks.

How cute, the spring nymph thought, her heart continuing to flutter strangely, Winter spirits blush blue…

Sooner than she had thought, Sarila looked down at his bandaged sprained arm and concluded that it was finished, satisfied with her work. It was now brace-like and should remain that way for many days to come, allowing his arm to heal properly.

When she shivered from the biting cold yet again, the spring spirit remembered that she wanted to double check the injuries on his face (not to mention, see him blush again).

So, without warning, she quickly leaned down and grabbed the sides of his face with both hands, holding him in place as she closely examined the injuries (and also took joy in the cute, startled expression he made at the close contact, their faces inches apart). She felt a shiver come on again but tried to stifle it as she spoke next.

"These s-should heal up in about a week, so don't worry."

After a few more seconds of this, she pulled away, leaving Jack Frost rather stunned (but unfortunately, not blushing).

"I d-don't have any more bandages, but I'd be happy to see what else I can do to help. Do you hurt anywhere else?"

In response, Jack Frost immediately shook his head "no" as if he hadn't even thought about what she'd just asked. Despite his quick answer, however, if she remembered correctly, the way he breathed when she'd first found him was more than concerning. Looking at him now, though, the thought that maybe the cold helped alleviate his raspy breathing (as it did to cool his heated skin) entered her mind, and she shrugged the thought off.

By now, Sarila knew full well that it was time to say goodbye to this so-called infamous spirit with him being patched up and her fingers and toes beginning to feel rather strange from the cold. So, with a final glance at his face for her memory to keep, she spoke her parting words.

"Well, goodbye and good luck."

Promptly, the spring seasonal stood up and began to walk away. She didn't expect him to respond since he hadn't done so in such a long while. However, when she was just about to teleport, a voice completely stopped her in her tracks.

"Thank you."

She stayed frozen for a long moment, unable to process those words for a while until, with a warm smile and lively eyes, she turned around to look upon the winter spirit once more. His crystal-blue eyes, although fatigued and one blackened, were gleaming with gratefulness, something she had never seen in a winter spirit before now.

Taking hold of the skirt of her purple-blue dress, she curtsied, responding with a "You're welcome."

Jack Frost smiled, and her mind briefly went blank for a moment at the sight; his white teeth sparkled like freshly fallen snow. Sarila smiled back warmly before turning around to teleport to Spring Haven, leaving the very interesting winter spirit beh–❀❁❀

Suddenly, the same voice from earlier, which she immediately recognized belonged to Camden, interrupted her thoughts as it echoed from the Court of Spring and into the corridor that she was currently in.

"What do you mean the Guardians were looking for him?"

A hushed murmur of whispers began to surge after that statement. Sarila, too, was puzzled as she tried to make sense of it. What did the Guardians want with Jack? Did they want to kill him?

At that thought, Sarila Thaw hoped that wherever Jack Frost was, he was safe.

The immense whiteness stretched beyond the horizon. Only the sparse coniferous trees that dotted the area seemed to interrupt it, but even they were overtaken by the overwhelming colorlessness of the snow.

They were now in a snowy taiga somewhere in northern Ontario, and Jack had never felt better. The extreme chill breathed life back into the winter spirit as it enveloped his injured form. He could already feel his arm slowly healing as the rest of his body did the same. The winter spirit turned his face towards the clouded sky, snowflakes tickling his cheeks, and closed his icy-blue eyes. For a good moment, he stood there in his spot in the snow and reveled in the feeling. Time stilled as he thought nothing could ruin this moment for him.

That is, nothing except for the now-shivering mini-fairy cuddled into the crook of his neck, wrapping a portion of his blue hoodie around her for warmth.

Jack opened his eyes and looked at the cold fairy with concern.

"Sorry, I kind of forgot you were with me," the wintry teen said apologetically. In response, the mini-fairy whose name he had found out was Baby Tooth (which was quite ironic, he thought), buried herself further into his neck as she continued to shiver.

Jack winced. He, a being whose utter essence was made from this unforgivable climate, relished the feeling of the cold. Looking around, however, he remembered that the snowy taiga truly was no place for a creature like the little fairy currently shivering into the cold cloth of his hoodie and freezing skin of his neck, trying to produce warmth.

In all fairness, he did try to warn Baby Tooth not to come with him earlier, but she insisted on going with him. Nonetheless, he knew he needed to get her somewhere warm before he went any further north; he didn't want to see what would happen to her if she stayed with him. Besides, he also didn't want the Tooth Fairy to find out about their misadventure together that was just waiting to happen either, not that Baby Tooth would tell her anyway, he was sure of it.

So, Jack took to the sky slowly and watched as the fairy stirred and cracked her eyes open, possibly wondering why he was turning back around to fly south. Before Baby Tooth could squeak out her question, though, Jack explained, "I am taking you back to someplace that is warmer." He paused as his gaze shifted back up to the sky. "There, I will have to leave you."

Being as cold as she was, Baby Tooth couldn't protest. Instead, she gripped the winter spirit's hoodie tighter in her small hands and waited for what was to come.

After about half an hour, when it noticeably started to get a little warmer, he remembered a question that had been clawing at the back of his mind ever since he befriended Baby Tooth about three hours ago. It was a question he was sure would make things tense between them, but he just had to know the answer to it. And even though he didn't fully understand her language, he could make out different gestures along with the tone of her chirps and squeaks which helped him understand. Eventually, with his mind made up, Jack cleared his throat a little to draw the fairy's attention before speaking.

"So, before I drop you off," he started, watching Baby Tooth cock her head as she listened. "I've had this question in the back of my mind for a while now, and I was wondering if you would answer it…"

Baby Tooth nodded curiously, wanting to know the question now, and Jack took a deep breath.

Here goes nothing…

"Would you mind telling me why the Guardians of Childhood tried to…kill me earlier?"

Now it was the Baby Tooth's turn to give him an apologetic look.

A long moment of silence past. Even Wind quelled her continuous soft murmur as he flew through the sky, listening for a reply.

And just when Jack thought Baby Tooth wouldn't answer, the fairy gave a small squeak of sadness.

With her head bowed, she nodded reluctantly before looking up to meet his eyes with an expression that told him he probably already knew.

After shutting his bedroom window, Jamie Bennett sighed.

"That was way too close," he thought aloud to himself, relieved.

That snowflake was coming straight for him, and he was glad he saw it before it had touched him. After a moment, he trudged over to his bed and plopped onto his back. He stared blankly up at the ceiling of his bedroom before frowning slightly at himself.

He had just lied.

To his friends.

He had just lied to his friends about having unfinished homework so he could avoid having to go outside and play with them.

The reason?

It was a snow day, and snow days meant snow, and snow meant Jack Frost.

Jamie shuddered involuntarily at the thought and curled in on himself as memories came flooding back into his mind.

Last year around this time,

Jamie Bennett loved to ice skate; it was one of his favorite winter pastimes.

something had happened to him.

One winter day, Jamie stumbled upon a lone frozen lake in the forest near his home.

When it had happened,

Later that evening, Jamie convinced his friends to go ice skating with him on this new lake that he had found.

it was so sudden,

When they arrived at the frozen lake, they eagerly donned their ice skates after checking the ice to make sure it was thick enough.

and cold, it had knocked the breath out of him. Immediately,

Jamie was the first on the ice, playfully zipping circles around his friends as they soon followed him onto the shimmering surface.

he coughed, and cold liquid filled his lungs. In response,

Jamie and his friends were having so much fun gliding on the frozen water.

he desperately tried his best to refrain from coughing again as he felt for the surface, his arms eagerly reaching out in front of him, prepared to pull himself out of the numbingly-cold water. However,

The fun couldn't last forever.

the only thing that met his arms was the cold, slick feeling of sturdy ice. After opening his eyes and looking around,

Jamie couldn't believe how much time had passed; the Moon was higher in the sky than it had been when they had first arrived at the lake, and the sky had darkened immensely.

there was no opening or break anywhere in the surface of the ice; it had somehow froze over. His eyes widened as he realized he was trapped. Eventually,

They would have to go home soon.

he started to cough again, his lungs filling with more and more water. He desperately pounded his fists on the underside of the ice, hoping with all his might that his friends would rescue him. Unfortunately,

His friends wanted to go home by now, but Jamie wanted to stay and keep skating; he didn't want to fun to end. His friends made their way to the shore of the lake and began taking their skates off anyway.

his friends were taking too long. He heard muffled yells and frantic footsteps from above as they tried to help him. Suddenly,

A strange noise then echoed across the lake as the boy continued to skate.

he couldn't cough anymore; his lungs were painfully full as he gasped for the oxygen that wasn't there. Soon enough,

Jamie and his friends realized it was the sound of ice cracking, much to their horror. The boy froze while his friends quickly yelled for him to get off the ice.

his struggling became feeble, and he began to sink away from the ice, his unmoving body feeling cold, sore, and heavy. He began to think of his family and friends and their futures. Before him,

He noticed a crack forming in the ice, however, and he was too terrified to move. He slowly looked back to his worried friends with an equally worried look.

the darkness was so immense, but the Moon seemed to chase the darkness away as it's light refracted through the ice. Something rather unsettling, however, began to cackle evilly from the darkness itself. Before he even had a chance,

The ice beneath him suddenly shifted, and he plunged into the cold water with a yell of shock.

that something continued to laugh mockingly, and it terrified Jamie more than the fact that he was currently drowning. This thing was the one that caused his life to be endangered; this thing wanted him to not ever see his family and friends again; this thing wanted him dead. Suddenly, the light of the moon was then shattered as something smashed through the ice above. Immediately,

He coughed, and cold water filled his lungs for he had fallenthrough the ice on that fateful winter's day.

as he was pulled from the water, his body sliding on the slick ice, he coughed, the cold water inhabiting his lungs, gushing out. He opened his bleary eyes to see his friends circled around him, saying something muffled that he couldn't quite make out. He coughed again, tightly closing his eyes as more liquid painfully expelled from his lungs.

When he opened his eyes again, however, he didn't just see his friends circled around him.

No, he also saw the silhouette of an ominous figure in the distance floating in front of the moon; the shadowed figure had the form of a teenage boy with a crooked shepherd's staff in his hand and an equally crooked smile plastered on his face that made Jamie's skin crawl, his friends rushing around him all but forgotten as he stared on in fearful bewilderment.

Just when Jamie was about to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't just seeing things, the same cackling laugh from earlier began to echo in his mind, haunting him until his vision grew dark and he passed out.

In the end, he knew that it had to be Jack Frost. A week before the event happened, his mother had mentioned the name of Jack Frost before he went outside without a hat, claiming that he would nip at his nose. And for a while, he believed it to be true so he took extra precautions to prevent the mysterious wintry being from bothering him.

However, that seemed to only irritate Jack Frost. That's the reason Jamie fell through the ice. Jack Frost was evil; He was angry that Jamie avoided him so He wanted him dead.

Well, with no solid explanation, that's the way Jamie saw it. Either way, though, it had to be true.

No one believed him, but Jamie was absolutely sure that the figure he saw that night was Jack Frost. It had to be.

After all, his nightmares told him so.

A/N:

Oh, snap! It seems poor Jamie has got Jack Frost all wrong! Or…does he? Something dubious is going on, but I'm quite sure you already know who the mastermind behind it is…And wait, what?! Jack has a believer that he doesn't even know believes in him? Hmm...Anyways, a lot of things happened in this chapter! Sarila revealed her opinion of Jack Frost, and the Seasonal Courts' views of Winter and its supposedly notorious herald were also revealed by her as well. Meanwhile, Jack asked Baby Tooth why the Guardians wanted to kill him while, at the same time, traveling southward so he could leave her somewhere warmer. In the next chapter, expect our favorite winter spirit to meet the Guardians yet again. ]:}

Also, school is my #1 priority at the moment so please expect me to update next month at the earliest (winter is coming)! I will probably give you a Q&A before that as well! Anyways, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I would appreciate it greatly! If you have any questions, feel free to ask, and I'll try to answer them in the next Q&A update! Thank you so much for your amazing support, and until next time, bye!