ATTENTION 3/23/24
THIS STORY IS DISCONTINUED AND REWRITTEN UNDER THE NEW TITLE "FROZEN FIRE"
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Epíphantos
Chapter Seven:
Of Ice and Fire
The winding columns of the hallways intertwined stone and ice in a way that had Sam staring, mouth agape, as she followed Phantom through the frozen abode. The crippling fear and anger she'd felt since waking up in the Ghost Zone was miniscule, at least for the moment. She trudged behind Phantom, ducking her chin into the cozy neckline of her furry coat.
Considering her situation, she supposed she should be feeling more apprehensive about sharing a room with a mob of ghosts, but her curiosity overrode her reason. Her nervousness was present though, in the jittery hunch of her shoulders and the hurriedness of her steps.
Phantom's stride was tense. He looked back at her over his shoulder occasionally, with his acid green eyes eyeing her warily. After the third time of him doing so, Sam finally snapped, "What?"
They rounded a corner and then walked under an archway of carved ice. He shook his head. "I don't understand how you're being so calm."
Sam arched an eyebrow. "Would you rather I continue being pissed?"
"No . . ." Phantom amended, though he seemed unsure.
"Okay then," Sam said, smiling a sickly sweet smile that she was sure seemed borderline psychotic. "Don't complain then."
The look he gave her then was one of incredulousness, accentuated by widened eyes and the shaking of his head. "You have got to be one of the strangest humans I have ever met."
"Oh, are there other humans here you've kidnapped to compare me to?" She couldn't help the glare that wormed its way through her façade. She was playing with fire, and she knew it. With nothing to protect herself with, Phantom could easily obliterate her with a single ectoplasmic charge from his palm, but—for some reason unfathomable to her—continued to refrain himself.
To his credit though, the ghost was pretty pissed. Green eyes simmered behind his messy white hair. They slipped under another archway, this one leading into a large opening in the cave where the passageways began to web themselves in every direction. The ceiling rose higher than it did anywhere else, carved into a dome where light centered itself. Icy snakes wound their way up the walls, enhancing the strange glow.
Sam's brow scrunched in concentration as she took in every detail. If the ghosts followed their word—a feat Sam wouldn't hold her breath to—she figured she would at least be alive long enough to begin pinpointing an escape out of this frozen maze. What concerned her though was what existed beyond the ice and masonry. So far, the Ghost Zone was nothing like the world she'd often dreamt about. Where were the swirling green pits of hell? Where were the flesh eating monsters that hid behind floating doors?
This . . . was nothing like what she'd imagined. She found herself eyeing the rainbows that cascaded like small rivers of color along the floors, dancing as she walked as the refraction of light changed with her movement. She never thought she'd associate the word beauty with the word ghosts before, but there was just no denying the absolute splendor of the caves and tunnels Phantom led her through. Everywhere they walked was a work of art.
Distracted, Sam almost walked right into the ghost when he abruptly stopped in front of her. She looked up from the floor and nearly tumbled backwards, realizing how close they were to each other. After a quick step away from him, she narrowed her eyes. "Jeez, could you warn me the next time you're going to stop like that?" she snapped.
Phantom rolled his eyes. "We're here."
It was then that Sam noticed they were standing near one of the archways. It didn't lead directly into a room, but instead another hallway. This one, to her surprise, was more stone than ice, and instead of the strange emanating light she'd seen so far, torches lined the walls. She became entranced by the flickering tongues of orange light, shocked by the presence of real fire. At the end of the hallway a brighter light shone, warm and inviting.
"There are a few things you should probably know," Phantom said after a moment of silence.
When he didn't continue, Sam frowned and arched an eyebrow. "Okay . . .?"
Finding his words, Phantom took a moment to shift from one foot to the other. "The Yeti are peaceful, and won't fight unless it's in self-defense. No one will hurt you."
Sam scoffed. "So I take it choking someone around the neck is a ghost's definition of peaceful?" she said a bit too harshly. Easy, Manson.
He winced. "Icefang was just trying to protect us from you. Humans aren't exactly his favorite."
"Well ghosts aren't exactly favorites of the humans either," Sam spat with her hands on her hips.
"That's another thing. Whatever you do, don't call them ghosts."
What? Sam was brought up short, unsure on how to respond. What did that mean?
Phantom must have noticed her confusion. "There are a lot of things you don't know, and I'm sure my father will explain some of it to you tonight," he said, vague as always. "But please, for the sake of my sanity, behave."
She was about to retort, but he cut her off. "One last thing. I warn you now that when it comes to guests, the Yeti tend to get a bit . . . extreme."
XXX
If she could, Sam very much wanted to make a snide remark to Phantom about how much of an understatement "extreme" was. She would, too, if she weren't currently under the fierce scrutiny of a room full of enormous, furry ghosts with red eyes and teeth that were barely contained by their massive muzzles. She did glare at him though, with her eyebrows low over her eyes and her jaw firmly set. His response was an innocent and somewhat sheepish grin that he gave her from across the stone table, followed by an offhand shrug that screamed: "Told you so."
Sam resisted the urge to sigh. The whole situation was absurd!
After he led her through the stony, fire-lit hallway she had begun to hear voices. They amplified upon reaching an equally stony room, but hushed as she entered. And then there, sitting sparsely around a table at the center of the room, were the spooks from her earlier encounter. Every one of them. They had at first stared at her with wide eyes, frozen in a state of shock at her presence. Phantom had discreetly placed a hand at her elbow then, beginning to guide her until she sat in a chair between Sleetjaw and Frostbreath, and then took his own seat.
Torches around the room were lit, but the main source of light was a chandelier of ice suspended at the domed center of the ceiling. From here, Sam noticed the source of light was actually a sphere of blue energy that undulated from within, so bright that it hurt her eyes to look at. There was an intense bout of silence as the beasts watched her with unwavering eyes. It was almost as if they were waiting for her to sprout a second head, or something equally disturbing. Sam's eyes flickered over each of them, twiddling her fingers and uncomfortable in the steady silence.
To her far left and at the head of the table, Frostbite broke the silence by booming: "Welcome! I am glad you decided to join us, human!" he gestured grandiosely with a large arm over the table. "Please, eat. I am not sure what a human diet consists of, so I made sure to have our servers prepare a variety of different selections for you to choose from!"
Finally noticing the food, Sam took a moment to look around at the many colorful trays and cups adorning the table, all of them made out of stone or ice. They were full of unidentifiable fruits, meats, and other odd-looking edibles that she had never seen before, and all were lavish in their presentation. Shiny slabs of stone were before each of the room's inhabitants, she included, with strange utensils laid out on either side. She eyed what looked to be a purple apple the size of her head, and frowned at it.
Frostbite was watching her, smiling a wide smile that revealed every one of his fangs. It then became clear to her that he was waiting for her to make a selection.
Extreme, my ass.
This was when Sam began glaring at Phantom, to which he shrugged. What was she supposed to do? It was as if they orchestrated the feast in her honor, but she had no idea what anything was or if it was even safe for her consumption. A dark thought suddenly occurred to her that maybe everything was poisonous, but then that wouldn't make sense either. They had ample time to kill her already, so why would they expend the unnecessary energy to do so now?
The silence dragged on, so Sam grabbed the safest thing she could think of, and that was a bowl of greens that was within arm's reach. She seized it, fumbling slightly at the bulk, before snatching some of the enormous leaves and placing them on her plate. There were a few more seconds of uncertainty as she debated whether or not to coat them in one of the colorful liquids she saw within some of the ice cups, but ended up deciding against it. Taking a deep breath, she picked up one of the leaves and took her first tentative bite.
Crunch!
The sound of the leaf between her teeth was so loud that every one of the spooks jumped at its suddenness. But Sam didn't care. While the taste wasn't exactly that of Compound lettuce, it was also so much better. She nearly moaned at the taste, much to her embarrassment, and quickly engulfed the entire leaf. Somewhere in her mind her consciousness niggled at her, reminding her to remain cautious and to not eat food given to her by ghosts, but for the first time in her life, she ignored it.
The tension lifted as Frostbite roared with laughter. He slammed one of his fists onto the table as he was overcome with his mirth, causing trays and cups to leap and spill. "Our guest has taken the first of bites," he said, addressing the other ghosts. "Now let the feast begin!"
So much for ghosts not being able to eat, Sam thought to herself as she watched them dive ruthlessly into the food. Where did it all come from, anyway? She found herself cringing as Frostbreath reached from her left and grabbed a large pinkish slab of meat, plopped it onto his tray, and began carving it with one of the knife-like utensils. Sleetjaw's selection was less disturbing when he reached for one of the purple apples; it crunched loudly as he took a bite of it. Across the table, Phantom and Elle were too busy arguing quietly with each other to pay attention to the food, despite Frostbite's multiple attempts to hush them. Icefang also wasn't eating, and instead maintained a steady glare at Sam, rapping his claws on the table.
To Sam, the whole situation was so utterly bizarre that she had trouble swallowing the lump of mulch in her throat, too consumed by her amazement. She ended up choking on her food and forced herself to cough it free, only for it to spew unceremoniously from her mouth and all over her tray. She continued to cough for few moments afterwards, so hard that tears sprung from her eyes. In a moment of uncalculated desperation, she reached for the nearest liquid to clear her throat, but what she grabbed tasted like bile and she immediately spat it back into the cup, nearly retching from the taste of it.
Well, she thought as she wiped her chin, at least I'm not choking anymore.
She wasn't choking, but when Sam's eyes lifted upwards, she was once again under the steady gazes of her dinner party. Red tinted her cheeks as each and every one of their gazes conveyed variations of disgust, with some of their expressions even locked in a sort of sickened horror. Mortified, she pushed away her cup of bile-juice and began the process of wiping leafy spew from her coat.
Shaking his head at her from across the table, Icefang muttered, "Humans are barbaric."
"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen," Elle said. She was also shaking her head, and pushed away her still-empty tray. "Goodbye, appetite."
Frostbite was fascinated. "Is this a typical dining habit of your kind?"
The redness of Sam's cheeks deepened. "Uh, no . . ."
Frostbite's brow furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head sideways, and then asked, "Then why did you rinse your mouth with fish oil?"
She blanched. What? What did he say? Fish oil? She was coughing again, wiping her tongue with the sleeve of her jacket. Sleetjaw shuffled over to her a cup of ice water and she downed it, almost inhaling it in her quest to rid her tongue of the taste.
"Everything alright?" Frostbreath asked with a worried frown.
Sam shook her head, and then reached for one of the purple apples. "I don't eat meat." She wrinkled her nose at the thought; at the utter invasion of fish oil having touched her lips and tongue. It was disgusting. "Or any sort of animal byproduct. Nothing that ever had a face." Why was she telling them this? They weren't likely to understand any of it.
"Are all humans this way?" Frostbite asked.
"No," Sam said after a pause. "I'm a vegan, and the only one that I know of."
"Vegan," Frostbite repeated in amazement, his eyes wide and his expression riveted. "What do they call you, human girl?"
Sam didn't respond immediately. Her first inclination was to lie, to not tell them her name out of defiance. But then her eyes drifted astray, only momentarily, and met Phantom's questioning gaze. He arched an eyebrow, and somehow she knew he was waiting to see what she would do. It occurred to Sam that they knew her name. They were testing her, wondering what name she would tell them. After only a moment of hesitation, Sam decided she would play their game.
Holding her chin high, she looked Frostbite in the eye. "Sam," she told him. Not Samantha, or Sam Manson, but Sam.
"Sam." A slow grin arced at the length of Frostbite's gigantic muzzle. It was odd to hear her name roll off his tongue with as much familiarity as Tucker would speak to her; and it was unsettling, to say the least. "Sam of the Very Vegan, destroyer of ghosts." A low rumble erupted from his chest as he chuckled to himself.
Sam felt her pulse quicken. What did he mean by "Destroyer of Ghosts?" Did she really have such a reputation, or were these words that were passed on from Phantom? And the most puzzling of all, why did this not seem to alarm him, or any of them for the matter? Sure, Icefang and Elle were still looking at her frostily from the other side of the table, but aside from that, the rest of them were fascinated. But why? They were ghosts!
Are they?
Her confusion resurfaced as she mentally catalogued all she had learned from their behavior. They were strange creatures, and were nothing like the ravenous spooks she had encountered back in Amity. Everything she had ever known about ghosts had somehow been compromised during her time spent here in the Far Frozen. Was everything she'd learned over the years wrong? She couldn't help but ask the question as it bubbled up from the darkest, most unforgiving recesses of her mind: "Are you a ghost?"
The room fell into a long, deathly silence. This time it was Icefang who broke it as he jumped to his feet, moving the table a couple inches in the process. He was leaning over it, snarling at her. "Have you no respect?!" he said, so loud that it was almost a yell. His large, yellowish fangs were bared at her, the hair on his body bristling.
"Peace, Icefang," Frostbite said while shooting the seething brute an authoritative glare. "We cannot condemn her for ignorance."
"Ignorance?" This time it was Elle's voice ringing shrilly throughout the room. She also soared to her feet, and began backing towards the entryway with her hands balled into fists. "She's human."
"Elle . . ." Frostbite warned darkly.
"No, father," she hissed. "I'm trying. I'm trying, okay? But—this—I can't. This is wrong." She glared pointedly at Sam, a fire igniting in the depths of her emerald eyes before she spun away, disappearing into the corridor.
Phantom rose to follow her, but Frostbite stilled him with a large hand to the shoulder. "Let her go," Frostbite told him. "She needs to calm and find peace, which cannot be done unless she is alone."
Conflicting emotions flickered across Phantom's face. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, and he looked for moment as if he would pursue Elle anyway, but instead decided to heed Frostbite's words and fell to his seat with a huff. Slumped indignantly, he began pushing a small portion of food across his plate, glaring daggers at it as he did so. Sam realized she was staring as he abruptly looked up at her with raised eyebrows. She let out an awkward cough and tore her gaze away.
Ever the attentive host, Frostbite began apologizing. "I am sorry for my daughter. Humans were a cause of great pain for her in the past." His red eyes simmered with compassion as he shook his head. "A past she has yet to overcome, unfortunately."
"A shame it is," Frostbreath murmured in agreement, and just as Sam was about to question the past events that they were referring to, he quickly added, "I believe you have a question to answer for Sam?"
"Ah, yes!" Frostbite said a little too loudly. "You wanted to know if I was a ghost, correct?"
That was strange, Sam thought, narrowing her eyes. So Elle's past wasn't up for discussion? She filed away a mental note to somehow ask Phantom about it later. If she was even still alive later. She had no way of knowing how long they would continue to keep her alive, regardless of how friendly they currently seemed. She took a deep breath to calm any anxious nerves threatening to betray her cool resolve, and then nodded.
"Frostbite . . ." Icefang warned, growling as he allowed a scowl to flit between Frostbite and Sam. "Remember what you are talking to. Giving our secrets to."
Frostbite waved off his warning with a flourish of his gargantuan hand. "I understand your concern, Icefang, but for relations to be established between our kind and the humans, it is imperative that we first begin building our foundation." When he spoke, his eyes remained on Sam's. With one of his great hands he reached for a knife and began twirling it delicately. "Sam just may be our bridge, and I have come to realize that she will not trust us until we are completely honest with her."
Sam's couldn't contain the sudden onset of her nerves, unable to tear her gaze away from the great beast before her, and the knife at his clawed fingertips. She was reeling and unsure, no longer within the gravitational pull of her universe, and suddenly propelled into a world where she could not find solid ground. She was terrified of what he was going to say, aware that the very balance of her universe was now on the ledge of a revelation. Despite everything—all the years of war and capturing subjects for study—Sam was coming to the painful realization that the human race barely knew a thing.
As if reading her thoughts, the knife in Frostbite's hand stilled. With an unceasing gaze that barely registered the continuation of Icefang's vehement protests, Frostbite, exploiting a quickness that Sam didn't think possible for a beast of his size, dragged the serrated edge of the knife over his palm, deep enough to bleed. Congealing in blots, the stuff leaked from his palm and trailed down into the fur of his wrist, staining the whiteness of it.
Not green, but a deep, dark purple that discolored his fur almost pink.
Her carefully constructed world came to an earth-shattering standstill as Frostbite calmly told her: "The Yeti are not ghosts."
XXX
In an alternate dimension and underneath a mile of dirt and rock, Valerie Gray was angrily releasing the bounds of her anger. The rubber dummy ghost flexed underneath her punches, its horrid yellow eyes glaring at her as it merrily wobbled back and forth, grinning at the salty tears that brimmed at her eyes. She punched with as much force as she could muster, attempting in vain to push away the darkness of the present and the thoughts than swam along with it.
Valerie was bawling.
She never cried. Not like this. Sobs heaved from her chest as she jumped and punched, not even bothered by the singed wisps of burnt hair that were matted to her forehead with sweat. She ignored the pain that shot up her arm as raw and marred flesh made forceful contact with the rubber dummy. She didn't care. She couldn't care. Her capacity for caring was overrun with the memories of losing Sam and Dick Belair in the Wasteland raid two days ago.
Her tears brimmed and fell, and she tasted the poison of them in her mouth as her punches came harder. Sam's death had been the hardest for her. Valerie had be so close, having only missed Sam's outstretched hand by mere inches, right before her former best friend had been lifted into the air and carried off and probably devoured by a horde of soul eating, spectral monsters. Their group had gone looking for her, but then Belair's old heart had chosen in that precise moment to give up on him, and before she knew it, they were dragging his stiffening body back towards the Compound.
The funeral was tomorrow.
Valerie collapsed onto the ground, hugging her knees to her chest as she wailed. Despite their recent animosity towards each other, Valerie did care. She and Sam had been friends for years before the Compound went underground, attracted by the unanimous quest to become recognized Warriors. The rift that formed between them had been a result of Vlad Masters, when Sam didn't share Valerie's unquestionable devotion to him.
She didn't understand why things went so wrong. Everything had been correlated and quantified, spectral energy pinpointed into a pattern weak enough to enable travel. The readings had been accurate until now, so what changed? Why didn't they see that ambush coming beforehand?
Valerie's hands became fists in her lap. She hadn't been strong enough to save Sam, and because of her weakness, Sam paid with her life. With that thought now in the forefront of her mind, another sob ripped painfully through her chest and screamed from her throat. Her hands flew to her hair and pulled, causing the dark ringlets to crumble and free themselves in massive clumps. The image of the once beautiful and deadly Valerie Gray shattered, falling in pieces to the floor and landing amongst the clumps of her hair.
She was so immersed in the depths of her sorrow that she didn't even notice when Vlad came upon her. She only noticed when a cold hand was at her chin, forcing her watery eyes to meet his as he knelt before her.
"Oh Valerie, my dear," he murmured in his silky voice, bringing his hand higher to caress her cheek and effectively clearing it of her tears. "What am I going to do with you?"
Despite everything, Valerie smiled, leaning her face into his hand. Vlad would always be there for her. Since the death of her mother, he was the only person she knew she could trust that wasn't her father. Vlad would make things right, as he always did, and she would follow his lead with an unquestioning devoutness. Though her eyes still brimmed with residual tears, Valerie felt the shattered pieces of her person reassemble themselves into something new.
Her face hardened, and she set her jaw as her gaze became resolute. Vlad had always told her that the best of Warriors must first be hardened by circumstance, their armor forged by the fiery hot embers of failure and loss. She knew, just by the look in his eyes, what thoughts were snaking his mouth into a smirk. His chilly touch was continuous on her cheek, stroking the soft skin in careful ministrations. All the while the smile of a shark twisted at his mouth, his eyes glinted deviously under the florescent lighting of the training faction's overhead lights.
Sam died as a martyr, and as much as Valerie continued to grieve for her fallen friend and comrade, the knowing smile that curved at her lips was one of calculation and understanding. Now that Sam was gone, Vlad could focus his time and energy into training her, molding her with his image, so when the time came, Valerie would rise to the rank of Warrior Leader with an iron first as stringent as her father's. Sam would become the fuel to her fire, and then together she and Vlad would work to end this god forsaken war.
But what Valerie could not have seen in her calculations, too blinded by the throes of devotion and grief, were the ulterior motives darkening at the edges of Vlad's twisted smile.
XXX
The crackling and hissing of the fire from the stone hearth was calming, tongues of warmth lapping over exposed forearms as Danny slouched in his chair. Across from him was his hulking father, and visible trails of condensed air wafted in swirls about Frostbite's muzzle as he sighed heavily. The pair were quiet, comforted by the silence of each other's presence. The stifling tension from dinner had long since passed hours ago, after Danny had unceremoniously deposited Sam into her room, sealing the entryway with a layer of ice.
It had been for her protection. At least that's what he told her, right before she cussed him out with a flippant gesture from her hand that he didn't understand. Danny couldn't help but grin as he thought back on the dinner's discussion, when his father had revealed to her one of the many secrets of his foster kin, and how skepticism had clouded her eyes. She had paled, but refused to let her confusion show through her impassive mask. Thankfully, his father had refused from answering her following questions, promising she would learn more with time.
"Something funny, son?" Frostbite asked as he noticed Danny's expression.
Danny's grin turned into a short laugh and he shook his head. He leaned back further into his chair, sighing at the warmth of the fire on his skin. Back in Amity, he was constantly moving, shifting back and forth between the dilapidated human world and the Middle, where most of the insubstantial ghosts lurked. It had been a good way to remain undetected, at least until his fateful encounter with Sam and a Fenton invention that literally ripped him through the seam and into physical existence.
Shuddering, Danny flicked off an ember that had landed on his arm. Even the memory was jarring. The Middle, as it was so eloquently called by his kin, was an area of space and time where the very edges of the material and alternate worlds overlapped, just enough, so ghosts could exist in tandem with the humans, but without actually existing. Danny was one of the few ghosts that could shift between the two states. Being forcibly removed had been excruciating, and utterly terrifying, but had also been the catalyst for his meeting with the lavender-eyed girl called Sam.
She was a force to be reckoned with, Sam Manson, with her brazen words and sharp intellect that constantly left him reeling. Considering what she was, they should be mortal enemies. But then, Danny couldn't deny his ever-present curiosity. He'd known who she was long before their physical meeting, as he'd watched her on the many occasions she'd venture from the security of the underground pit, amble across town, just to sit in the park, smile, and relish the freedom accompanied by the open air she breathed.
Danny would have never believed in a million years that he'd make contact with her for a second time. The first had been sheer luck on her part. But now? Danny bit his lip and shook his head, suppressing his incredulity. Now, she was in his home in the Far Frozen with her simmering anger that always seemed to boil when he was in her presence. Funny how things like that happen.
Footsteps from the outside corridor snapped Danny from his reverie. He and Frostbite turned in unison, just in time to see her as she padded hesitantly into the room, her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast. She flopped into the empty chair beside Danny, running her fingers through her long white hair.
Frostbite smiled warmly at his daughter. "Feeling better, Ellie?"
Elle's smile was wry as she met Frostbite's eye. "Wonderful, just wonderful," she muttered. Her hands drifted from the hair at her shoulder to her throat, where she fingered the puckered edge of a scar that peeked out from the neckline of her shirt. Then her arms crossed to form a barrier over her chest. "Sorry about . . . dinner."
"It's alright," Frostbite replied. Her reached forward and pushed a fall of hair away from her eyes. "I should have known it would upset you."
Elle didn't have a response for him. Instead, her eyes met Danny's. "So, Danny, you ready to kick some butt now that you're back?"
Danny's brow furrowed. "How bad has it been?"
Elle snorted, just as Frostbite said, "The raids are becoming more constant." The firelight reflected in the deep red irises of his eyes, flickering over the ominous expression dominating his face. "The damage to the town is only minimal, but with Elle by herself we've barely been able to keep the ghosts at bay."
"I do fine on my own!" Elle snapped. "I just . . . could use the help."
Frostbite sent a dark look at her. "Your sister has yet to learn the limits of condition," he said in a low growl, frowning at the defiant look she shot at him in response. "The past few raids have been close. Too close. I fear what this pattern signifies."
Danny nodded, his eyes drifting back to the curling orange flames. Raids had been intermittent before he left for the material world, and Elle had proven herself more than capable as a defender, despite her degenerative condition. Too much ectoplasmic power utilized in a small amount of time was detrimental to her, but she was still strong enough for most forms of combat. Elle's fighting style was mostly physical, anyway. Even still, if things were truly becoming more severe, Danny was glad he was around to help her now.
Elle was watching his expression curiously. Her white eyebrows were arched high over her eyes. "What was it like?" she asked suddenly with a hushed, secretive voice. When Danny frowned at her in confusion, she quickly amended, "The human realm. What . . . what was it like? What are they like?"
"Quiet," Danny responded honestly. He began describing to her his experience over the past few years. Humans were infrequent, buried beneath the ground. Aggressive ghosts remained out of his territory, while the others were led safely through the Middle to natural portals bordering Amity Park. The Infi-Map had guided him in his quest of leading the war-torn, homeless spirits and benevolent ghosts to safety as Pariah Dark's army continued to destroy their home realms.
Throughout the tale, Elle's eyes became as wide as saucers and she tucked her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them in a childlike wonder. Frostbite remained silent and grim, though his eyes sparkled with fondness as he regarded his adopted children. Danny told them everything he had learned about the realm, which surprisingly wasn't much. Sam was the only human he'd made contact with, while other instances had remained purely visual. The rest of his time had been quiet, aside from the refugees he'd guided through natural portals to the Far Frozen.
While he talked, he carefully left out the absolute brutality he'd witnessed from the humans. The devastation he'd observed in the beginning, before he established his territory, when the city had yet to be completely evacuated. At the brink of their extinction, the humans had been cruel, both to the ghosts and each other. How many benevolent ghosts had he not been able to save because of "Warriors" and their need to capture and destroy? Granted, most ghosts were under the control of Pariah Dark, but the aftertaste of their dismemberment was still bitter in his mouth. Danny shuddered. These were things he would tell his father when Elle was not around, so for now he told his revised version.
What he refused to tell either of them was the crippling loneliness and fear he'd felt during his two years in Amity, with the highlight of his time being spent watching the murderous Warrior girl as she travelled alone through the city. They would never know how he'd made sure to protect her in her travels, sensing the safety emanating from her aura, even though she was one of them. Neither of them needed to dwell on his discomfort, nor did they need to know his fondness for the human, so he would keep it all to himself.
With the conclusion of his amended tale, Frostbite met Danny's eye. "And what state is the material world in now?"
Danny's mouth opened to respond, but instead he could only shake his head. His father's expression darkened and he turned, working his massive jaw so canines flashed in the firelight. Silence fell once more over the small room, pregnant with tension and grim thoughts.
Frostbite reached forward to stoke the fire, his expression now thoughtful. "I think the human girl is the key," he said, and both Danny and Elle looked at him with furrowed brows and obvious skepticism, causing the great beast to sigh.
"She's human, dad." Elle's nose wrinkled as if she smelled something unpleasant. "Humans are too primitive to understand anything outside their realm. Not to mention they're so stupid. She didn't even have table manners, for King's sake!"
Danny shot a glare at Elle. "She's not that bad."
"I beg to differ!"
"Alright, enough!" Frostbite snapped, exasperated. "Humans are a young race, but that does not mean they are anything less than what we are. We cannot win this war alone. With Sam on our side, she may be able to rally her kin in our favor."
"She hates us, even though she knows nothing about us. Not to mention she's a killer!" Elle leaned forward in emphasis, her eyes blazing brighter than the orange flames. "Nothing can change that!"
Frostbite's eyes narrowed. "She is ignorant. If she is truly what you say she is, she would not have let your uncle live." When he saw that his daughter had no argument for that, his gaze softened. "I believe that with time she may come to trust us, but first we must begin by trusting her. We cannot blame her or any of the humans for their ignorance. They only believe what they see in their world, and right now their world is on its path to destruction due to Dark's army and plagued by his ghosts."
"Whatever," Elle grumbled, burying her face into her knees. "Just keep her the hell away from me."
Unable to contain himself, Danny chuckled at her, and when a green eye peeked over her knee to glare at him, he only laughed harder. His sister was many things, and childish was definitely one of them. It was sometimes hard for him to comprehend how lethal she truly was, especially with the way she acted when not faced with prying eyes. But then, he could say the same for himself. As Frostbite's children, both of them had been raised to wield several masks. Outside their home, they were the dignified destined rulers, unblinking and stoic—Daniel and Danielle. In Amity, Danny had been Phantom, ruthless and superior.
But here, in the small room with three chairs and a fireplace, they were Danny and Elle, the laughing, mischievous twins with green eyes and white hair.
XXX
Frostbite's smile was warm while he continued to watch his children quip playfully with each other. He couldn't help but laugh when Elle, fed up by her brother's antics, leapt from her chair and punched Danny hard in the gut. They began to grapple with each other, spitting insults and other various threats until they too succumbed to fits of pealing laughter, happy to have their small family reunited once again after nearly two years of separation.
Looking away from them to stare once more at the fire, his gleeful expression began to drift into thoughtfulness once again. He began mulling over the upcoming gathering he would have to hold for his tribe and all the tension and excitement it would cause the villagers. Danny's return coupled with the arrival of the human girl, Sam, was bound to be interesting. Perhaps even revolutionary.
Frostbite grinned.
Tomorrow, the fun would start.
A/N: Wow, SO, SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE. To be honest, this is the unedited version of this chapter. I felt bad for how long it took to write, so I am uploading it now and will probably update it when my beta sends it back. I don't know what happened or when the revised chapter will be ready, so this is coming out now. Sorry for how long it took.
As for life . . . I GOT A JOB! *Insert spastic dancing here* Life has been SO crazy. As some of you know, I am a welder by trade, and finally got picked up by a good company. I am the first woman to ever work on their floor in the history of their company, so the guys there have definitely kept me on my toes. I have been so busy between that and everything else that this story has unfortunately been put on the backburner for a while, but hopefully now I can make time to work on it again.
Also, reiterating what I said above, the chapter count has changed. I like it this way better, as it doesn't seem so unorderly as before. However, there ARE some mistakes now. There are a few time jumps that may not make sense (I've been TRYING to find them to fix them, lol). Aaaaand I JUST noticed I have been spelling Valerie surname wrong since the first chapter. So, now her name flipflops between "Gray" and "Grey" because I haven't found all of 'em yet. Oh well, it all reads the same, right? I'm TRYING. Haha
So what do you guys think so far? Any comments/suggestions? I know a lot of you wanted to see some of Danny's POV, so here you go! I'm trying to go easy with it, though, because the whole fun of this story is learning things WITH Sam, and being in his POV would give away a lot of things sooner than I wanted. But I think I found a happy medium now. What do YOU think, though?
Thank you to Captain Ozone, for letting me use the character Sleetjaw. Read more of him in her awesome story, Shift!