CHAPTER 4: QUESTIONS & ANSWERS
A diadem lay abandoned on the floor of the ice palace foyer for several seconds, as it had for days already. Then, a slender hand – the same one that had first discarded it nearly a year earlier – reached down and retrieved it.
Elsa stared down at the item in her grasp, running her fingers over its perfectly forged gold and finely cut jewel. It was strange that it stirred any memories at all when it hadn't been in her possession for even a collective full day of her life. Nevertheless, she recalled how it had been placed on her head just before she'd turned to face the world for the first time as Arendelle's Queen, managing to keep her powers just concealed enough. How it had stayed there when she'd snapped at Anna to stop causing a scene, ironically causing one herself by losing control and revealing her powers. And how it had been torn from there after she'd fled society and resigned herself to life in solitude, letting her powers truly run free for the first time in thirteen years. The diadem looked just as it had then.
Suddenly, something changed. There was a flash of motion reflected in its metallic surface. With the adrenaline of the recent ordeal still surging through her body with every heartbeat, she quickly looked around by reflex – even though she knew full well who she would see. Sure enough, Jack had stalked deeper into the room, his steps slow and careful in his search of every inch of the palace for even the slightest clue. To Elsa, though, the clues were not slight, but on full display when she looked at them.
The foyer was a complete mess. The lefthand staircase was entirely shattered. The delicate railing of the attached balcony had been broken like twigs. The fountain had been smashed to pieces, and even the floor beneath it featured a large star of cracks. Most unsettling of all were the huge claw marks peppering the crystal walls. The room told much more of a story than the diadem did.
It might have been shallow, but Elsa was visited with a faint sense of embarrassment. She could only wish Jack had been able to see the foyer when she'd first built it, as it was nothing to be proud of now.
Then again, it's not like he hasn't seen my work at its worst already today. she thought, embarrassment morphing to shame.
It was hard to believe that barely fifteen minutes had passed since she, Jack, and Marshmallow had been locked in a relentless clash. Everything had been happening so fast, her sight had been assailed with too many images per second to process. The noise had been tremendous, as evidenced by how much her ears were still ringing. And whether it had been because of Marshmallow's earthshaking movements or just her thundering heart, the whole world had seemed to be shuddering. Those fresh memories felt like an entirely different lifetime now.
This one had had a very mixed beginning. While she'd at first felt relief that her loved ones were largely all right, it had quickly been replaced with horror. No longer worried about any more harm coming to her or anyone, she could now clearly see much of the harm that had already come. The market had been practically flattened, with every stall crushed to wood chips and every vendor and shopper long since fled for their lives. Worse, though she hadn't seen it yet, she knew that whatever path Marshmallow had carved on his way into town would be no better. Seeing any portion of her kingdom reduced to ruin like this had been too similar to the worst of the Thaw last year, and she'd been brought to the verge of tears. This, she'd been ready to declare, had been all her fault.
To her credit, she was still sure that it at least partly was. But, sensing her distress, Jack had quickly assured her that she was not to blame, even questioned why she'd thought so (he hadn't understood yet that the monster he'd just fought was her creation). He'd seemed reluctant to do it, but he'd shown her and Anna what they'd missed; a patch of ice full of black sand, its grains still vaguely in the shape of a horse. The comfort Elsa had felt at the revelation had been sparse. She may have created a weapon, but at least it hadn't gone on a wrecking spree because of her. Instead, it had fallen into much worse hands.
Before the full magnitude of this development could set in, Jack had decided aloud to investigate this incident, and Elsa had automatically volunteered to accompany him. Naturally, her Guardian Angel had initially refused to take her anywhere potentially dangerous, but when the truth that she was behind this snow monster had come out, he'd hesitantly accepted her help. And so, though it couldn't have been good for her public image as Queen, she'd left with Jack before help for the wounded or work clearing the damage could even begin. They'd taken off for the North Mountain, set on searching Marshmallow's post. So far, all they'd found were signs that his rampage had begun long before reaching Arendelle.
"So."
Startled out of her musings by the silence breaking, Elsa looked to Jack again at the sound of his voice.
"That was what you made to kick Anna and the crew outta here last year?" he observed, not sounding the least bit accusatory. Despite this, Elsa still winced.
"Yeah..." she confirmed helplessly.
"Seems kinda like overkill, but... hey, got the job done. Your guy could've given the yetis a run for their money."
"I'd say you gave him one." She didn't really want to make smalltalk at the moment, but she knew Jack didn't like uncomfortable silences (hence his efforts to defuse it right now), so she indulged him. "Looks like those bō staff classes paid off after all."
After his inauguration into the Guardians last year, he'd long since told her, Jack had been advised to refine his fighting skills. North had told him that his power was impressive, but his technique was lacking. Because he was so fond of his staff, he'd recommended looking into martial arts that would make good use of it. Heeding his words, Jack had interspersed the following few months with visits to some old warriors in Japan who continued to hone their craft. Invisible to them just like everyone else, the Guardian of Fun had learned bōjustu by training alongside them, and had continued to practice even on his own. Eventually, every move – including some magical ones he'd added himself – had been memorized to the point of being second nature to him in battle, as he'd demonstrated to his fellow Guardians later on (Bunny had been a worthy opponent, but even he couldn't win them all).
Better yet, Jack hadn't slacked off in his training since proving himself, either. Elsa had even watched him train in the courtyard a few times since he'd come into her life. Like the warriors he'd learned from by observation, he stayed in fighting shape in case his world was ever seized by war again, much as he'd had his doubts. At the moment, he was probably glad about his commitment.
"Not really." Jack replied glumly. "The way he kept patching himself up, all I was doing was buying time. So don't sell yourself short."
That might have been praise among the Guardians, from one warrior to another, but to someone dedicated to nonviolence like Elsa, it only made her squirm as the truth of the battle she'd participated in crashed back into her. She'd been the one to end it. She'd been the one to stop the threat to her kingdom. She'd been the one to...
Not wanting to go there, Elsa returned her focus to the diadem in her hands. Her feeling of anxiety slowly gave way to suspicion. Jack was still searching the room for any important information, but she sensed that something about the diadem was relevant as well. She just couldn't quite place what. It didn't look any different than she remembered it looking when she'd thrown it away. But when she did throw it away, she'd been on the upper floor of the palace. Had it just ricocheted off a wall and tumbled down the stairs all the way down here? It must have, because the only alternative was that... Marshmallow had found it, and taken a liking to it. Perhaps after dragging himself out of the chasm, he'd carried it around like a lucky charm, or even worn it. Perhaps her palace's guard, designed to be simple and singleminded, had defied the odds and developed an interest in something other than his duty. Perhaps... he'd begun to live something of a life of his own.
And she'd torn that life out by the roots like a weed.
Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. It was no good. No matter which way she tried to focus her thoughts on figuring out how this attack had started, they kept coming back to how it had ended; with a death by her hand. She had killed Marshmallow.
Now, all her mind's eye could see was the look on the snow giant's face in his last moments. Madness had given way to shock, savagery to fear. He'd forgotten whatever had driven him to this, and had been afraid for his life. Afraid of her. Afraid that she could end his existence. And she had. She was now responsible for two deaths, his and Anna's last year.
Elsa's eyes opened. Anna's death had been reversible, thank Heaven. Maybe this one was as well.
Despite what had just happened down in Arendelle, the young Queen turned to a relatively empty corner of the foyer and summoned her magic. Sure enough, winter blew to life inside her, ready for her commands. Sensing as much, Elsa gave them. Focusing on her memories of Marshmallow – huge, malformed, dull, but loyal – she willed them into existence through snow and ice.
To her surprise, all her hand produced was a few icy blue sparks that withered and died before they even touched the floor. Nothing else happened – which was a first. Elsa's powers were always more than willing to manifest even when she didn't want them to, to say nothing of when she did. For one wild second, the Queen almost believed that her powers had disappeared, but she quickly deduced that wasn't the case. As always, she could feel the ice beneath her surface, forever ready to come out. That hadn't changed. But this time, the magic seemed somehow confused. It was ready to serve her, but it was as if it hadn't understood her wish.
Perhaps her approach had been wrong, Elsa thought anxiously. Perhaps she wasn't supposed to think of it as resurrection, or even creating life. After all, when she'd created Marshmallow, not to mention Olaf, that hadn't been her intention. Ironically, that frame of mind might have been the one she needed to do it.
Hoping against hope, Elsa put down the diadem, reached out with both her hands, and thought back to last year. Regardless of how terrible the memory was, she thought back to how Anna had come all the way to her palace, mindlessly throwing herself into danger's path. Desperate to protect her from that, Elsa had created Marshmallow to escort her out and block her reentry. Now, she tried to relive that moment, and recapture that awful feeling. Getting as close as she could, she pushed with her magic again. But again, there was barely a flicker of power.
Frustration and worry rose up inside Elsa, and she desperately tried something else. She willed a lump of snow and ice to form in front of her – and, to her relief, it did. Her ability to create winter was not impaired. Seeing this, she took control of her creation, and forced its shape to change. The mound of snow twisted and warped like clay in the hands of an artist, rapidly reforming into a body with two legs, two arms, and one head. After a few seconds, Elsa relaxed her magic and looked up at the rebuilt Marshmallow.
Rebuilt, but not reborn. The snow giant before her stood motionless, not even appearing to be waiting for her orders. He – it – was just a lifeless snowman. Having expected this, Elsa readied her powers again. She took control of every aspect of her magic that she knew of, aimed them at the Marshmallow replica, and willed it to come alive. With all her heart, she commanded it to live once more, to move, to... be Marshmallow in any way.
To her dismay, it remained lifeless.
"Whaddya doing?" she heard Jack ask uncertainly.
Elsa didn't look around, afraid of whatever look she would see.
"I'm trying to remake him." she answered.
A faint whoosh told her that Jack had levitated closer.
"Why?" he asked.
The pain inside Elsa abruptly tripled. It was all she could do to keep it from spilling out through tears, but her powers nevertheless betrayed her; fractures started to spread throughout the floor from where she stood, and a freezing wind slowly began to whistle through the room.
"I can't do this, Jack." she answered after a few difficult breaths. "He's... because of me, he's... I... He was hurt. He was sick, and he didn't know what he was doing. He needed help, and... I..."
Unable to finish, she brought her hands up to her eyes, desperate to stop herself from crying. Suddenly, she felt Jack's arm across her shoulders, infinitely comforting at the moment.
"Elsa. You didn't." His words somehow soothed her even more. "You didn't do that. You set him free. You're right, he was sick, and scared, and I dunno if there was anything anyone could've done for him. So you did the only thing you could. You switched him off and took his hurt away. That's not killing, Snow Angel. That's kindness."
It had a slow start, but before long, Elsa felt the truth of what Jack was saying permeate her. He was right. The creature that had possessed Marshmallow had effectively killed him – condemned him to a living death. She couldn't imagine what sort of torture it had been to be imprisoned in his own body, maybe even seeing the havoc it was being used to wreak. Ripping him out of that had been an act of mercy, and if he were here, he might even thank her for it.
If he were here... she thought, her relief faltering.
"Anyway, that thing is gone now, so it's probably safe to rebuild him." Jack added.
The small, grateful smile Elsa had been wearing disappeared back into sorrow.
"I've been trying." she said. "But I can't. I just can't... get him back here. No matter what I try, even when I rebuild him, I... can't give him his life back. It's like it's... part of me forever now."
Released from Elsa's control entirely, the giant snowman crumbled into a heap of ice crystals just like the real Marshmallow – and her hopes of bringing him to life again.
"Whaddya mean?" Jack asked curiously.
"I think... Marshmallow was a part of me. A part of... my heart, my soul. When I built him, I... I think I put that piece of me into his body, and made him alive. But now I've taken it back and... I don't think I can do it again."
As if to ram the point home to herself, Elsa looked inward, as if trying to feel her very spirit and discover the fragment that had once been Marshmallow's life. Oddly, it felt no different than it had before the attack. But then, what did she know about the soul? She didn't even know how she'd detached parts of hers and infused them with snowmen in the first place.
Realizing that she hadn't received a reply from Jack yet, Elsa looked at him. To her surprise, his eyes weren't even on her. He was staring across the foyer. She turned her gaze in the same direction, but whatever he was looking at escaped her.
"What is it?" she asked.
She didn't get her answer right away. His expression darkening, Jack removed his arm from her to stride across the room, stepping weightlessly on broken shards of ice that couldn't even pierce his skin. He stopped only upon arriving at a wall no less slashed up than the others. In fact, it might have been the most damaged, featuring the longest, deepest cut of them all. Elsa found herself holding her breath as Jack reached carefully into it, and brushed his fingers along its inside.
To her relief, nothing happened. No enemy jumped out, no trap snapped shut on Jack's hand. After a few seconds, the Guardian of Fun withdrew his hand from the gash, and he looked down at it. Stepping closer, Elsa finally saw his find; a small handful of black sand. How Jack had managed to spot that from across the room was beyond her.
"All right, so that settles at least one thing." she broke the silence. "It happened here."
Silence lasted for a few seconds before Jack responded.
"He was here."
They'd come to it at last; the reason they were here, the reason this had happened, the one whose hands her creation had fallen into.
Pitch Black was something Jack had been reluctant to talk much about for as long as Elsa had known him. Though he'd hardly omitted the Boogeyman's existence from the tale about his rise as a Guardian last year, he'd certainly glossed over many details surrounding him, leaving the exactness of most of his actions, words, even his appearance to the daring imagination, and for good reason. Not only had Jack not wanted to scare her with graphic descriptions of one of the world's oldest evils, but he and the other Guardians didn't want the truth about the Boogeyman to get out and begin poisoning children's minds again. Even if Pitch was dead, horror stories about him could still influence the world's future generations – maybe even bring him back to life.
Therefore, the best course of action was for him to fade from human memory. The children in Burgess knew about him, of course, but they were over their fear of him. With luck and guidance from their Guardians, they would go their whole lives without letting his memory affect them, and keep their past involvement with him largely a secret from others.
Aside from them, the only humans who knew Pitch had been real were Elsa, Anna and Kristoff. The iceman had been told the bare minimum by Jack, if only to understand the Guardians' duties and how he became one in first place. Thankfully, Kristoff didn't seem disturbed by the story's antagonist, and he wasn't the type to blurt it out by accident. He wouldn't be a problem. (Sven had been with him at the time, most likely listening, but Jack hadn't been worried about him telling anyone anything.) Anna, on the other hand, wasn't as careful with her words, chatterbox that even she admitted she was. Thus, she'd been told just as little as her boyfriend, with both Elsa and Jack putting extra emphasis on the importance of discretion about this.
(Olaf had been kept ignorant about Pitch. Though Elsa and Jack loved him dearly, they sadly weren't sure they could count on him not to accidentally mention it in passing, especially when he was so popular with children.)
Being Jack's girlfriend, Elsa had been privileged to hear a little more than the others, but Pitch's involvement had still been largely kept to the important details. Now, she was wondering if there were any such details that had been missed.
"You said that he was dead." she reminded Jack hesitantly. "His own nightmares killed him."
"I thought so." came the sombre reply.
When Jack turned back to Elsa, she almost felt her heart stop for a moment. He was almost unrecognizable, the look in his eye was one she'd never seen there before. She wasn't even sure how to describe it. Grim, most inarguably. It was clear that Jack believed Pitch was back for revenge, and he'd already resigned himself to fighting him again. But there was more than a hint of fear too. No matter how committed to the oncoming battles Jack was, he was nevertheless haunted by the last ones.
Worst of all was the anger. Though it was contained for the moment, bubbling beneath the surface, it was clear that Jack was furious about this – furious that an enemy who'd been defeated was back, and that he'd retaliated in this way.
"I never saw a body." he confessed coldly.
That was definitely something he had failed to mention before.
"Oh." Elsa responded, unsure. "Well, that... changes things."
"I never thought it was possible he survived." Jack snarled, clenching his fist full of sand and beginning to pace aimlessly. He seemed to be talking to himself more than her. "Last time I saw him, he was literally put six feet under! A hundred feet under! It was kind of assumed! It was over!"
The Guardian of Fun was on the cusp of shouting now, and it troubled Elsa enough for her to remind herself that it wasn't at her. A menace that he'd been tasked with containing had beaten the odds, escaped, and run rampant. Now he blamed himself for not doing more. She probably had a better idea how he felt right now than anyone could.
"Jack, this isn't your fault." she told him calmly.
"We should never have let his pet monsters have him. I should've speared his brain with an icicle before they showed up."
Elsa's eyes widened, having never seen this side of Jack. Though she'd never really witnessed his anger, she'd known it existed in him like everybody else. She'd known that he could hold his own in a fight and slay enemies if he had to. But this went beyond being angry or a warrior. To speak of such violence with that sort of meaning and intensity... it was almost like the Jack that she loved – the one who stole kisses when he thought no one was looking, carried her with care during flights, and held her close when she slept at night – wasn't here anymore.
The only thing worse than that was that he was. Elsa knew he was only this warlike because she'd drawn the attention of his enemy, and nearly gotten hurt because of it.
"Jack..." she said, appalled. "Do you even hear yourself?"
Hearing that, Jack paused and turned his hateful eyes on her. All that outrage dissolved to horror, then shame upon seeing the alarm he'd fostered in her. A long moment of silence passed before the Guardian finally sighed.
"Sorry..." he murmured, approaching. "I... I shouldn't have said that. I would never really do that..."
"I know." Elsa answered with equal softness, reaching up to touch his chin. "Because you're not like him."
"I'm just... scared. Seeing that... thing coming at you... Losing Sandy last year was hard enough, and that was after knowing him for five minutes. If I lost... you... If I hadn't been there..."
The first half of that last sentence was all it took for Elsa's current quest to spring right back to the front of her mind, and she almost jumped. If nothing else, this attack had only confirmed what Jack had been saying the other night. He couldn't afford to lose her. She couldn't afford to leave him. But she had come awfully close today, all thanks to her frail, mortal body. If Pitch really was back, then it seemed that her need to achieve immortality for Jack had just grown. Thankfully, she was already well on her way.
At that, she was tempted to tell him. Knowing that, quite possibly very soon, she might be as immortal as him would surely settle him down, and goodness knew she wished him some calm after such a frightening close call.
"Possibly", "might"... those words wrestled down her temptation. She still had no guarantees – and therefore no reassurance – to offer.
Before she really made a decision, the last of Jack's words registered in her mind. If he hadn't been there...
"Why were you here?" Elsa realized aloud.
Her Guardian Angel paused and looked at her, all his outrage fading away to surprise in a split second.
"I told you." he answered innocently. "I was just passing through, and I heard the noise. Kinda lucky when you think about it."
"You said you were working out east for the next couple of days. Did you finish already?"
"Oh, yeah. Uh, almost. I-I dunno, I just decided to switch to North America shift for a bit, so I was on my way there."
Elsa didn't look entirely convinced. Seeing this, Jack gave in, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"And I thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing. If that's a crime, then colour me guilty."
Unable to help it, Elsa finally chuckled to herself. If Jack was cracking his usual jokes, then he really had calmed down, which was all she'd wanted.
"Well, I guess it is kind of lucky." she said. "Lucky for me that you love me so much."
Jack smirked. That smirk didn't vanish back into hate as he looked at the sand in his palm again. Casually, he formed a small globe of ice around the grains, and stuffed the whole into his sweater pocket.
"C'mon, let's get outta here." he said, taking Elsa's hand. "We're not gonna find anything else. I need to warn the others. And Arendelle needs its Queen right now."
Elsa nodded and, pausing only to retrieve the diadem, she made her way out with her Guardian Angel.
Glancing at him, though, she couldn't help but feel something off. Something about the way Jack had answered her questions hadn't seemed entirely honest. She had no doubt that he'd told her the truth – but she got the sense that it hadn't been the whole truth, like some things were being held back...
Internally, Elsa sighed. Perhaps she was just mistaking her own secrets for his. All this secrecy was starting to mix up messages. But then, that had to be better than sending one clear message that would definitely hurt.
The Queen couldn't wait for these secrets to be out. She couldn't wait to be able to tell Jack that they could have forever together. And at the moment, she couldn't wait to get to Corona, and find whatever secrets waited there to be discovered.
Where once there had been stalls and carts, there was now wreckage and rubbish. Where once there had been shoppers of every day, there were now survivors of a disaster. And where once there had been business as usual, now there were search and rescue efforts.
Anna had been a part of the latter practically since Elsa and Jack had flown off. It hadn't even really been a conscious decision on her part. Wandering around the scene of the attack, she'd just been asking herself what she was supposed to do with them gone when a pained groan had reached her ear. Following it, she'd discovered its source to be one of the castle guards – Geoff, she was sure his name was – trapped under a large chunk of a counter, his leg broken beneath it. At the sight of someone distressed, instinct had taken over, and Anna had moved to help. Though she'd ultimately had to ask for others' aid in lifting the surprisingly heavy piece of furniture, her efforts were not for nothing.
The Princess didn't know or care how it happened, but from there, she'd participated in every task she'd caught wind of. She'd helped clear away the debris holding the chapel doors shut, freeing some people who had become imprisoned inside after taking refuge from the rampage. She'd found a few more people in need of medical attention, waited dutifully at the side of an injured man until others returned with a stretcher for him, even helped Mrs Solberg recover a few of the pies she'd been selling at her stall. All of these Anna considered personal victories. They weren't Mrs Norling's or Vilde's problems, but at least these were ones she could actually start to fix.
But there was still a long way to go. Every time Anna looked around for another job to do, that responsibility got lost for who knew how long as she just took in the ghostly echo of the market that had stood here less than an hour ago. She couldn't believe this was even Arendelle. It was odd how fascinating something so terrible could look.
As if to prove it, she wasn't the only one who couldn't help but stare around. In one place, some men stared up at a house, theorizing how best to get the remains of a cart lodged in its second floor down. In another, the gaze a woman little older than Anna slowly swept back and forth across the scene, unsure where to even start. A ways off, five or six people were crowded around, staring at something on the ground.
That last one earned Anna's intrigue. Brushing sawdust off her skirt, she got to her feet and started purposefully toward the group. They were hardly clearing debris, but from their relative calm, it didn't seem like they'd found someone else in desperate need of medical attention. The Princess prayed that they weren't staring down at the remains of someone beyond saving.
Technically, they were. Anna realized where they were standing just as she arrived; the site of Marshmallow's defeat. They were looking down at the leftover snow and ice.
At the sight of those remains, Anna felt the weirdest rush of sadness she'd ever experienced. Marshmallow, she realized, was truly gone from the Earth (unless Elsa managed to remake him). Not that he'd really been in her life this past year, but she'd never forgotten that the big, snowy jerk was still out there, probably playing castle guard for an empty palace, as was his lot in life. But now, he wasn't even that. She shared all of one memory of him, but Anna almost felt like his death was like the loss of a relative. A relative who had thrown her out of Elsa's palace, hurled a tree at her, and been unnecessarily rude to her, but still.
As she drew closer, Anna nearly tripped over an overturned pail, causing a loud noise. The group she was approaching looked around in response.
"Princess Anna!" a few of them exclaimed gently. Most of them bowed or curtseyed respectfully.
"Is everyone okay?" Anna asked.
"We're quite all right, your highness, just a little shaken." Ms Menzel replied, sounding the part.
"Half my house has been demolished!" Mr Eikemo complained. "My ancestral home..."
"I'm so sorry, Mr Eikemo." Anna apologized. "If you want, I can have a room prepared for you and your family at the cas-"
"I don't want a room!" Mr Eikemo snapped. "I want answers! What was the Queen's guard dog doing down here?"
"Reidar!" another woman Anna didn't know retorted. "Don't speak to the Princess as such!"
"Oh, come on, you're thinking it too! This past year, we've all known the Queen had another of her snowmen up on the North Mountain! But she assured us all that if we didn't bother him, then he wouldn't bother us! What happened to that agreement?"
"He... does make a good point, your highness." Mr Pauss spoke up uneasily. "Did your sister or mister Frost say anything about how this happened?"
Unconsciously, Anna's eyes darted to the nearby patch of ice for a fraction of a second, and she had to fight the urge to squirm uncomfortably. Admittedly, Jack had reassured her and Elsa that none of this was their fault, and Anna would have loved nothing more than to tell Mr Eikemo that right now. She was not going to have anyone blaming Elsa, creator or not, for what Marshmallow had done. But if she shared that, she would be forced to reveal all of what Jack had said – that it was most likely the Boogeyman behind this. At least a few of her people wanted someone to blame right now, and more sympathetic she could not be, but she had been sworn to secrecy about Pitch months ago and, despite how notorious she was for thinking with her mouth, she hadn't broken her oath yet.
It wasn't a fun choice. If she answered no, then people would keep blaming Elsa, maybe even suspect her of plotting something. The Thaw had been bad enough, but this would send public faith in her plummeting. But if Anna cleared her name by making Pitch Black the scapegoat now, then people's fear of him would be reborn. The Guardians would lose power, and if Pitch really was back, then that power would go to him, putting the whole world in terrible danger. Of course, that was if these people even believed her.
Sorry, Elsa... Anna mentally apologized.
"No." she shook her head. "They went up to the mountain to find out. I'm sure they'll be back soon."
"Well, maybe this has something to do with this." another man spoke up, still staring at the ground nearby. "Princess, what do you make of this?"
I see nothing. I know nothing. Anna reminded herself as she made her way over to his side and followed his gaze. As expected, she found herself staring down at the remains of the nightmare Jack had slain, now entombed in a sheet of ice that still hadn't begun to melt. It was all she could do to keep the words "sand" and "nightmare" off her tongue, knowing this group couldn't see anything but...
"Ice." Anna answered innocently. "Ice is what I make of this."
She wasn't sure, but she could swear some of these people rolled their eyes.
"Well, yes, Princess, we see that." Ms Menzel spoke up patiently. "But I think Anders was talking about what's in the ice."
"Yeah, what's all that black and purple stuff?" Mr Eikemo chimed in unsurely.
Anna blinked, stunned, before furrowing her brows in suspicion. She looked back and forth between the ice and its observers a few times as the truth dawned on her.
"Wait, you... you see the sand?" she asked, almost completely forgetting to keep playing dumb to all this.
"It does look like sand, doesn't it?" Mr Pauss replied, obviously interested. "Reidar here thought it was ash from that lantern."
"Well what kind of sand is black?" Mr Eikemo retorted.
"I think it's kind of shaped like a horse." another spoke up.
The citizens continued to debate amongst themselves, each word shocking Anna even more than the last. She stared around at them as they chatted, mystified.
They all seemed like the most normal people. None of them seemed haunted by their childhood fears, let alone believers in checking under their beds for monsters. True, they believed in her mythical future brother-in-law, but that was just because she, Elsa, and the rest of the gang hadn't been subtle to the people of Arendelle about his existence. Had getting them to believe in him left their minds open to other living legends? Or...
"Um..." she interrupted the conversation hesitantly. "Do any of you believe in... the Boogeyman?"
Anna knew she was taking a risk. Not only was she risking her own credibility by asking people who would probably answer no, but she was introducing Pitch into the conversation, something she'd promised not to do. But she felt like she'd caught the scent of something, and needed to know where it lead.
Unsurprisingly, the citizens all looked surprised, perplexed, even disbelieving at her question.
"The Boogeyman, your highness?" Mr Pauss repeated. "Hiding in closets and under beds?..."
"No, I can't say that I do." Ms Menzel replied uncertainly, shaking her head.
"Yeah, I outgrew that phase a long time ago." Mr Eikemo stated.
"No, your highness..."
The rest of the group all agreed no, much as Anna had suspected. Looking back at the ice and black sand, she came to the only conclusion left; even without believing in Pitch, these people – adults, no less – could see his black dream sand. Had it always been like this? True, people could see Jack's ice without believing in him. Was that how it was with other mythical beings?
No, Anna realized. She'd watched Sandy go to work in Arendelle a couple of times, reaching his lines made of golden sand that practically glowed in the dark all across the kingdom. If any adults had caught sight of his work, she was sure, there would at least have been talk about it the next morning, which she didn't recall. Nope, dream sand was invisible to people who didn't believe in it or the ones it belonged to.
Then... they can see it because it's... in ice? she pieced together.
That was the only explanation that made sense.
But then, what did that mean? Anna didn't know. But if Pitch really was back, she was sure that she had stumbled onto an important piece of the puzzle of whatever he was up to. The Guardians would know what to make of it, so she would tell Elsa and Jack as soon as they were back.
"Look!" someone cried. "They're back!"
Anna looked in the direction of the mountains. Sure enough, she sighted the familiar shape of Elsa being carried like a bride through the sky by Jack. Before the two even swooped down for a landing, Anna began running toward them, leaving the common folk behind.
"Are you okay?" she couldn't help but ask as Elsa was set back on her feet. "Did you find anything? Or... anyone?"
"We're fine." Elsa assured her with a sad smile.
"Yeah, you could say that." Jack added with a smirk. "Someone wants a word with you."
Before Anna could ask him what he was getting at, the familiar sound of hooves reached her ears. She turned just in time to see Sven race around a corner and into the clearing, Kristoff stop him, still dressed for work. When he slowed his reindeer down and jumped off his back, he ran over to the Princess, his expression suggesting he'd just had the fright of his life. As he took her into a fierce embrace, Anna realized he had.
"Oh, thank goodness..." he murmured breathlessly, relieved. "Thank goodness... You're okay..."
"I am, how about you?" Anna got out quizzically, wrapping her arms around him in return. "What're you doing here?"
"Saw the tracks... Me and the crew were doing a run... and we found tracks. I knew whose they were, and I just..." He didn't need to finish.
"And we ran into him on the way back." Elsa interjected.
"We told him you were okay, that you held your own." Jack reasoned obviously. "That didn't seem to put his mind at ease."
"I dunno if I wanna yell at you or laugh..." Kristoff spoke up again, finally releasing Anna to give her a disbelieving smile. "You set that thing on fire? You haven't changed a bit."
"You know me." Anna responded with a teasing smile to them all.
She was surprised to see Elsa and Jack weren't looking at her, but around the ruined market again, their grins gone. In their place was an air of confusion, even worry on their faces. Anna followed their gazes.
Work around the crime scene had ground almost to a halt. Nearly everyone around had paused in their tasks to stare at... the four of them.
No, not the four of us. Anna realized. Just Elsa and Jack.
It was just as she'd feared. Not knowing that something else had forced Marshmallow to run amok, the people of Arendelle turned their suspicions on his maker, maybe even winter magic as a whole. It didn't matter to them that Elsa and Jack had risked their lives stopping the giant snowman, fighting fire with fire (or ice with ice). Their power had ultimately lead to all of today's chaos, and so trust in it was shaken. No one approached even to get some answers, preferring to give them a wide berth. Even the ones Anna had just been talking to made to leave, preferring to take the long way than come anywhere near the bringers of winter.
"I'm gonna book a room at the inn..." Mr Eikemo muttered, quietly refusing the room at the castle he'd been offered.
Barely stopping herself from launching into a rant to defend her sister, Anna settled on embracing Kristoff again, needing to be held together when she wasn't sure she could do it herself. After the terror of Marshmallow wrecking the market, striking down Jack, and closing in on Elsa, his arms felt like the safest place in the world, and she could well have stayed forever.
"Can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" she heard Kristoff joke quietly.
Suddenly, it was all Anna could do to stop herself from throwing herself out of his arms, which felt much more like a cage for her than a shield against outside threats.
Kristoff had made the joke about her being unable to go any length of time without finding trouble multiple times before, even once recommending she get a babysitter (resulting in her refusing to let him touch her in any way until he'd apologized). So why did it feel like he wasn't kidding this time? Was she just imagining it because she actually had run into such trouble while he'd been gone? Or was he really suggesting keeping her in sight at all times from now on? It sounded all too familiar.
Anna shuddered at the image of herself reduced to something like Mrs Norling or Vilde, submitted to her lover's designs on her and cut off from the rest of the world – maybe including her sister. Kristoff had been slow to trust Elsa last year, knowing that her power could hurt someone (he'd experienced Marshmallow's wrath right alongside her).What if this incident had reignited that distrust, and he was as uneasy around her as the rest of Arendelle were right now? Losing Olaf, Jack, the whole outside world she'd embraced, and most of all, Elsa... to Anna, it sounded like a nightmare worse than the one here.
It had barely been more than two days, and Anna's belief in what her marriage to Kristoff was going to be had been all but destroyed. She couldn't take it anymore! If this was what being married was going to be like, for her or everyone, then she needed to...
But was it?
Rrrrgghh, I don't know! she raged internally.
Again, Anna didn't know the situations of enough couples to make a clear judgment. Two marriages couldn't speak for them all. She was almost desperate enough to conduct a survey by every married couple she came across, but even with her limited knowledge on social norms, she knew that was a terrible idea. No, she needed someone who knew and trusted her enough to share all the important details – someone who could understand both the situations Anna had heard about, and that of a princess who had grown up away from the wider world, leaving her unclear about what marriage really entailed even when she was about to be wed to a man who wasn't of noble blood.
Several seconds passed before the answer crashed into her like a runaway sleigh. Anna almost beamed as she realized that the latter description didn't only apply to her.
Looks like I've got another letter to write. she thought.
"Wow..."
Anna, Kristoff, Elsa, Jack and Sven all turned at the familiar voice. How long he'd been doing it was unclear, but Olaf was trailing along behind them, marvelling at the mayhem that had been visited upon the market.
"Oh, hey, Olaf." Jack greeted him easily.
"Hi, Jack." came the response. "This place looked better after that time I drove Kristoff's sleigh through it. What happened? And... why's everyone staring at us like that?"
Normally the memory of that misadventure was enough to get a laugh out of all of them, but today was anything but normal. By reflex, Anna looked around again. As expected, almost everyone around was still eyeing them distrustfully, especially Elsa and Jack... and Olaf?
Are they serious? Anna wondered disbelievingly. Are they really afraid of Olaf now, too?! He's like the size of a barstool! What could he actually do to anyone?!
Kristoff sighed.
"It was Marshmallow, buddy." he finally answered Olaf's first question.
"Marshmallow did this?" Olaf clarified, amazed. "Why'd he do that? What's he doing here? Where is he?"
No one answered right away, but Elsa held up a diadem that looked vaguely familiar to Anna. Suddenly, she remembered the topic of a certain conversation she'd had with Olaf this past Sunday; the lifespans of living snowmen. They'd never gotten an answer, but while they hadn't really said it out loud, she was fairly sure that they'd both assumed that Elsa's living creations would last forever.
It looked like they'd been wrong. And, exchanging uncomfortable looks with the others, Anna prepared to break the news to her friend.
As calmed down as he'd been when he'd left Arendelle, the flight to the Pole was more than enough to get Jack agitated again. With the sky all to himself, he was all alone with his thoughts... which wouldn't leave Pitch... for over an hour... with the weight of the orb of black sand in his pocket... like he was carrying a piece of the Boogeyman with him... while the rest of him could be attacking Arendelle right now...!
To say he was taut as a bowstring by the time he arrived would be an understatement. When he touched down in front of the entrance, and two yetis popped out of hiding to intercept him, he didn't exchange the usual one-sided pleasantries.
"Lemme in." he growled shortly. "Boss and I need to talk."
For once, the yetis actually looked unsure. On the one hand, Jack was one of the Guardians now, and was entitled to access to the Pole as long as North allowed it (a far cry from their treatment of him in prior years). On the other, it was their job to deny entry to threats – and right now, Jack looked about as harmless as the Boogeyman.
Realizing this, and how Elsa would feel about it, he struggled to get his emotions under control for their benefit – to conceal, not feel.
"It's important." he insisted quietly. "Please."
The yetis swapped uncertain looks for another moment – not helping Jack's temper in the slightest – but finally, one of them went to the door, unlocked it, and gave it a push open. He turned back... only for Jack to rocket past him as fast as his staff could go.
The Guardian of Fun crossed the antechamber in barely a second, weaving between obstacles and passersby with incredible precision, then ascended as he entered the atrium. Only then did he slow to a hover, letting his gaze sweep the room in search of two things. One was a fellow Guardian, and the other was the means of reaching the others.
"Jack?" he heard the former call, audibly confused.
Looking down, Jack spotted North enter the cylindrical room from one of its many hallways, coming to rest his hands on the railing. It seemed he'd been notified about his arrival.
"What are you doing here?" the Guardian of Wonder queried.
For the first time in his eternal life, Jack felt a ripple of anger upon seeing the Christmas icon, and he barely restrained himself from sneering. He wasn't the only one who'd had Pitch cornered and vulnerable over a year ago. Any and all of the Guardians could have put an end to him for good, but they'd all decided not to and let justice be poetic instead of effective. North, Tooth, Sandy, Bunny, they were all as much to blame for his return as Jack was.
So he settled on ignoring North now – chances were, he'd come running – and going straight to the other reason he'd come. Scanning the atrium again, he sighted his other quarry; a large board of metal and wood, adorned with several levers and buttons, at one of the main floor's railings. Jack swooped over, narrowly missing a gizmo sailing by, and landed before these controls. Before he even touched them, the shouting started.
"Wait! Jack!" North protested indignantly, racing up the staircases to this floor. "What are you doing?! Don't touch that!"
"Maybe you shouldn't have given me a crash course, big guy." Jack muttered to himself, recalling how North had walked him through the controls' various functions for the unlikely event that anything ever happened to him. He had made the new Guardian rehearse their sequences out loud again and again for several long hours. Consequently, Jack still knew today which one control he needed; the big dial at the bottom right corner of the board.
Ignoring North's continued objections, he grabbed the dial's handle, spun it one quarter of a counterclockwise turn, and pushed it down. A powder blue light came on beneath it, but it was rapidly outshone. Looking up, Jack watched as an aura of light, looking remarkably like the glow of an aurora, flared to life from all of the Globe of Belief's continents. Within seconds, that radiance reached up to the ceiling, pierced the circular skylight, and spread across the arctic sky.
"Ugh! JACK!"
Jack glared back in time to see North had reached the main floor running, only to slow down upon seeing it was too late. The Northern Signal had been fired, and the others had to be on their way. Now, instead of running to intercept him, North stormed to lecture him, irate.
Then he can join the club. Jack thought darkly.
"Jack, what did I tell you?" the Guardian of Wonder snapped, returning the handle to its original position. "Just look for Sandy, he's not that hard to find! The Signal is for emergencies only!"
"Yeah!" Jack shot back. "I know!"
Whether he was startled by Jack's unusual hostility or he understood his implication, North's demeanour literally changed in a blink. His annoyance was replaced by surprise and confusion, and he stared silently for a few seconds, as if expecting Jack to go on. The only thing about the Guardian of Fun that went on was the severe look on his face. Finally, North relented, though the hint of grimness in his eyes warned that there had better be an emergency. He waited nearby until their fellows showed up, and didn't speak again until then.
It wasn't a long wait. Tooth, punctual as always, was the first to arrive, babbling to some tagalong fairies about freshly fallen teeth as she zipped in via an upper window. Upon sighting Jack and North, she fluttered down.
"I saw the Signal!" she greeted a touch breathlessly, not seeming too worried yet. "What's going on?"
"You'll find out." Jack replied flatly, not quite meeting her gaze.
Toothiana furrowed her brow quizzically, but didn't get to question further before the trademark hiss of shifting sand reached their ears. Sandy was the next to arrive, doing so with his usual flair. When Jack looked up, it was to see him riding atop a humpback whale made of dream sand (making him idly wonder what entrance had accommodated something so big). Still as serene and unhurried as Jack remembered, the Guardian of Dreams dispelled his transport with care before easily levitating down, a casually optimistic grin on his face. North immediately moved to welcome him, and Tooth offered a quick greeting as well, but Jack only nodded.
Ever the renegade with better things to do, Bunny was the last one to show, racing in through the front entrance on all fours, a grimace twisting his features.
"Awww, why?!" he complained, heading to the fireplace nearest to the group to warm his feet. "It's July, for Moon's sakes! Why is it still so ruddy cold?"
"Okay, Jack." North turned to tower over the Guardian of Fun, a warning hidden in his expression. "We're all here. This had better be good."
"It's not." Jack answered, reaching into his pocket.
When his hand reemerged, the icy globe was secure in its grasp. Its owner took another look at it and, deciding its contents weren't easy to see all spread throughout its substance, willed the ice out of existence. When he held his hand out to the others, all that rested in his palm was black and violet sand.
Slowly, recognition, shock, even disbelief conquered their faces.
"He's back." Jack confirmed, the venom of hate and fear clear in his voice.
"Where did you get that..." Bunny asked in a hushed tone, his eyes never leaving those grains.
"You brought that filth in here?!" North asked in something resembling a hiss, appalled. "What were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking better here than in Arendelle, where I found it." Jack nearly snarled. "After an attack. Which Elsa had to hold off by herself 'til I got there!"
"Oh, my gosh!" the Tooth Fairy gasped, dreading the worst as she hovered closer. "Is she all right? What about Anna, and Olaf-"
"She's shaken, but she'll live." Jack narrowly stopped himself from adding "no thanks to you guys". "They all will. Some people did get hurt... the whole market was trashed, and a few houses are gonna need renovations, but Arendelle 'll bounce back."
"Hold on, what?" North asked, thunderstruck. "'Hurt', 'renovations'? Pitch just... raided the kingdom in broad daylight? That's not like him at all. And even if it was, there's no way he has the numbers, or the belief."
The Guardian of Wonder wasn't entirely wrong. Though black dream sand was still a relatively new discovery to them, it seemed to follow the same rules as ordinary dream sand. While it could be used to cause bad dreams and sow fear in any sleeping mind (though adult or animal minds took more effort, and the consequent fear could not be fed on), it couldn't be physically seen, heard, or felt by someone who didn't believe in it or its master. Even in his prime last year, Pitch could have had a dozen nightmares attack one non-believer when they were awake, and the most damage they would have inflicted was a mild sense of unease.
But even if his nightmares could touch people who didn't believe in him, the Pitch they knew would never just take them on a murderous spree. He was looking for belief in and fear of him, and there was neither to be had from dead victims.
"He didn't need 'em." Jack answered grimly. "He just needed one nightmare to possess a certain snowman..."
The horrified shock of the Guardians doubled. Even the Sandman opened his mouth in a muted gasp, and Jack thought he might actually say something for once.
"He did what?!" North beat Sandy to the punch.
"Pitch put a nightmare inside Olaf?!" Bunny almost shouted.
"You said he was okay!" Tooth was on the verge of hysterical.
"No, not Olaf, Olaf's fine!" Jack quickly assured. "Oh, boy, this is gonna take some explaining..."
Out came the whole story over the next few minutes. From the moment Marshmallow had stormed into town to the moment he and Elsa had left the ice palace, Jack told his fellow Guardians everything – and he told it in extreme detail, even mentioning Marshmallow's origin in the Great Thaw. He couldn't afford to pass over anything. Pitch was up to something, and if they were going to figure out what before it was too late, they had to assume that every little thing was a clue. (And, admittedly, Jack might have been trying to emphasize how he'd been there to be a Guardian today, but none of the others had, to his continued annoyance. It wasn't like him to be so hard on them, but after seeing Elsa in mortal danger against their enemy...) There was a lot of detail in what he said – but North was the first to notice one detail in what he didn't say.
"Wait, so..." he observed. "You never actually saw Pitch."
Jack blinked, the momentum of his storytelling and his anger faltering.
"That's your takeaway from all this?" he asked incredulously. "What does that have t-"
"You didn't see him."
For a long moment, Jack could only stare, unsure what North was getting at. All the Guardians were waiting for his answer, doubt creeping in their eyes. Finally, he realized what he was being asked.
"... N-no..." he confessed. "No, I didn't. But... this was definitely him, wasn't it? Who else would it be? Who else would this be?" He held out his find from the palace – a deliberate, cryptic clue as far as he was concerned – indicatively.
"That is true..." the Guardian of Hope granted in a mumble.
But Sandy shook his head in disagreement, to Jack's surprise.
"Whaddya mean?" he asked suspiciously.
Seeing that he had the group's attention, the Guardian of Dreams went to work forming a series of images out of dream sand over his head. For his part, Jack could only understand a few of them individually – one was definitely Pitch, another Sandy, and he was sure another was the kids in Burgess – but not make sense out of them as a single statement. Luckily, North had much more experience reading this language.
"You're right, it's possible..." he said thoughtfully to himself.
"What?" Jack asked.
North looked at him.
"I'm not arguing that one of Pitch's nightmares was involved, мальчик. But that doesn't mean it was Pitch. Perhaps... this was only one of his surviving nightmares."
Jack cocked an eyebrow skeptically, a silent queue to explain further.
"This attack is simply not like him, Jack. It's just too reckless and primitive. But Sandy has a theory, and I second it." North took a seat to share his theory, looking Jack dead in the eye. "Pitch is dead. His nightmares... tortured him and fed on his fears... until there was nothing left. Now maybe that was enough to keep them alive for a while, but now, they're starving. They've probably left his lair looking for a new food source, but without Pitch to guide them or children's fear to sniff out, they're lost. Just wandering aimlessly, looking for a way to stay alive."
"Raging against the dying of the light." Toothiana interjected, nodding.
"And this one in Arendelle just happened to get lucky and find Olaf's cranky big brother." Bunny finished.
"Is that even possible?" Jack questioned. "For Pitch's monsters to survive without him?"
"Sandy's dream sand did." Tooth took over the discussion. "After Pitch killed him, remember? It didn't disappear, it just got taken over by Pitch. And when Jamie and his friends came at it without fear... it was real dream sand again. Pure, and alive, and healthy, even without Sandy."
Jack had to admit that the Guardian of Memories had a point, that incredible moment replaying in his head. Sandy had been dead, but dream sand had continued on without him, even allowing him to be reborn from it in the end. But he couldn't quite bring himself to nod.
"But what if he is back?" he asked quietly.
"Then we'll stomp him." Bunny replied with a menacing smirk.
"Why are you so sure he's gone?" Jack specified, ignoring Bunny. "Why can't this be some crazy new master plan that's too big for us to even see yet?"
North visibly weighed how much his sage answer was going to infuriate the Guardian of Fun before delivering it.
"Because I think Man in Moon would have told us by now. Few things are too big for him to see." He looked up at the ceiling. "Eh, Manny?"
Following his gaze, Jack saw the pockmarked granite disc of the moon overhead, somewhat faded in the blue sky of midday, but nevertheless present and watching down on them all. At the sight, he couldn't help but feel the usual pang of annoyance at his creator who never spoke – including now. All the Guardians stared up at the celestial body, reverently or dubiously, for several long seconds, waiting for even a whisper of guidance. But as always, none came.
"Yeah, 'cause he's always so chatty..." Jack muttered unpleasantly.
"He warned us about Pitch last year, Jack." Tooth promised. "There was a threat, and he told us. Just like he told us about you."
"But he's not saying anything today." North pointed out with reassuring quietness. "I think Pitch is really gone."
"Oh, what, your belly's not enough to go off of?" Bunny sarcastically remarked.
Out of nowhere, a large hand made of dream sand waved for attention, easily winning it. Everyone looked over at the Sandman, who pointed to the dark grains in Jack's grasp, then created a tiny nightmare out of his own dream sand before making one more obvious gesture.
"Good point, old friend." North concurred. "Pitch may be off the board, but his last knights are still at play."
"If Arendelle proves anything, those last nightmares are still a threat even without their master." Tooth clarified.
"The missus doesn't have any more of those things, does she, Frost?" Bunny asked.
"No, just him and Olaf." Jack responded. "And I can't see him getting possessed and running wild."
"There might be other ways for the nightmares to cause trouble, though." said the Tooth Fairy. "We'll have to hunt them down."
"Agreed." North said grimly. "Everyone, keep your eyes open for the time being. You see something, you know what to do."
Sandy created another miniature nightmare replica before putting a hand to his ear and slowly swivelling his head from side, pausing only when said ear was aimed at his creation. Even Jack understood this to mean that, being so bonded with dream sand, he would keep a special lookout for any that was no longer his.
"We should probably let the Burgess lot know too." Bunny suggested. "They could be a real big help if one of those beasties shows up. Don't even need a weapon."
"I'll do it." Jack volunteered. "I'm from the neighbourhood, and it'd be nice to see them all again."
As the Guardians all committed to this course of action, though, Jack couldn't help but wonder if it was the right one. It was true that he'd found no evidence to support it, but he couldn't get over this feeling that Pitch was behind all of this – striking from the shadows and letting his enemies think it was all just the random actions of mindless animals. Was the Guardians' conclusion part of his plan too? Were they all being manipulated?
The youngest Guardian shook his head. Or he was just being paranoid. Elsa coming so close to getting hurt might have rattled him worse than he thought, and he was jumping at shadows that really were just shadows. He had to be on guard, but if the Boogeyman was gone for good, then he wouldn't waste time on conspiracy theories that he was back. He didn't have that luxury when he had different investigation to conduct.
That last thought reminded Jack that, before looking to talk to all of the Guardians today, he'd been looking to talk to one of them in particular. And as the team bid each other luck and farewell, that one was already in the process of making a giant dream sand kite to fly him out of the Arctic.
"Hey, Sandy!" Jack called, starting toward him. "Wait up!"
The little golden man paused in his conjurings to look curiously up at his approaching fellow.
"Uh, got a minute?" the bringer of winter hoped aloud. "Can we talk?"
Sandy looked surprised for a moment, but then deadpanned a look as if something obvious had been missed. As he lead the way to the nearby dining hall, Jack realized what he'd said wrong.
"Um... right, not 'we'." he corrected himself, trying not to chuckle. "Just me, I'll talk..."
Smirking, the Guardian of Dreams levitated onto the table. As if on cue, a yeti carried over several small cups of eggnog on a tray, which Sandy helped himself to before turning back to Jack with a question mark of sand over his spiky head.
"So... yeah, you've seen some stuff, right?" Jack queried, gesturing no to an offer of drinks. "I mean, you've been around a while, so you've probably noticed a few things in your time. Discovering America... Marco Polo... fall of the Roman Empire... heck, I bet you even saw the dinosaurs!"
Pulling an expression that combined insult and amusement, Sandy manifested a hand of dream sand behind Jack just to have it smack him upside the head. Through it all, Jack couldn't help but snicker.
"Anyway..." he went on. "What about... pieces break off the moon and wind up down here?"
His grin almost completely vanishing, Sandy quirked an eyebrow up in suspicion. The look in Jack's eyes showed that he was being serious now.
"Ever seen anything like that?" he hinted.
The Sandman eyed his fellow Guardian apprehensively for a long moment before slowly nodding, though he said nothing else.
"Can you tell me where?" Jack pressed.
Sandy visibly hesitated, but then put down his drink and motioned for him to approach. Jack obeyed, but upon reaching the edge of the table, Sandy merely repeated the gesture, wanting him to come closer. Perplexed, the bringer of winter leaned in, wondering what the Guardian of Dreams wanted to share with him so discreetly. Was he as worried about how the Man in the Moon would feel about this as North?
Sandy leaned nearer as well, opened his mouth as if to speak, paused for a moment... then gave a silent sneeze, blowing a handful of dream sand in Jack's face.
"Oh, should've seen that comi..." the young Guardian muttered as he began to fall and all went black.
Jack made his way across a wide plain – which was odd, because he didn't recall standing up, much less coming here in the first place. Realizing this, he caught himself and looked around. At least, he tried to look around, but his body wouldn't respond, his head refusing to turn in any direction. Panic rose up inside him as he realized he was trapped!
Struggling to stay calm, he tried to think of a way out of this. For that matter, how had he gotten into this? He searched his memories, but they were slow to respond. The last thing he could remember was... lying in Elsa's bed Monday morning, realizing she would die and leave him forever if he didn't find a way to make her immortal. He'd gone to work as a Guardian afterward, learned of the existence of Moonstones and... who had allegedly seen one...
Everything came back to Jack just as he found himself looking to the south, catching a glimpse of his hand – his small, somewhat gold-hued hand at the end of a short arm wrapped in a thick sleeve of golden sand. After the attack on Arendelle, he'd gone to alert the Guardians, learned that it was probably just a few rampant nightmares, finally gotten to talk to Sandy about some Moonstones... and promptly been put to sleep. This was a dream.
No, not just a dream... Jack suspected.
No matter how bizarre dreams got, he couldn't remember ever having any where he hadn't been in some kind of control of his movement. He'd never dreamt of being imprisoned inside his own body, much less another Guardian's, while it moved independently of him. No, Sandy had to be controlling what he was seeing and feeling right now, and it was for a reason. He'd done this in answer to his question...
A memory! the answer exploded in Jack's mind.
An involuntary look to the left only proved his deduction right. He was seeing everything from the Sandman's point of view right now because he wanted to communicate exactly what he remembered. Sandy was more than answering his question; he was showing him where a Moonstone had fallen. From his limited ability to look around, Jack couldn't make out any specific landmarks yet, but from the trees, tall grasses, and a nearby flock of sleeping flamingos, there was no mistaking the central African savanna. In the distance, he was sure he saw a plume of smoke from a campfire.
Jack wasn't sure why, but all of a sudden, he – or Sandy – looked up. As expected, the full moon illuminated the night sky. Barring how it seemed a little bigger and closer than usual, it looked pretty much the same as it always had, although...
If Jack could have furrowed his brow in confusion, he would have. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Or was an orb of orange light blooming on one far side of the moon? It wasn't a trick, he realized. Just as North had explained, something had crashed into the celestial body. Honestly, Jack hadn't expected it to be so violent and bright. The explosion was brighter than any star in the night sky. More than that, he'd never imagined the moon looking so close to disaster. He had no doubt that it and the Man inside would be fine, but they would both be feeling the effects of such an impact.
When the Sandman's eyes squinted, Jack could even see dozens of tiny rock fragments, looking as small as motes of dust at this distance, flying out from the blast. Most of them were already arcing back "down" to the moon, recaptured by its gravitational field. But a few of these shards escaped this pull, soaring out in various directions and diving into space to strike back at other celestial bodies. And Jack could see that it wouldn't be a long wait for one of them, as it grew hot and bright rather than vanishing into the darkness. He didn't know how long it took, seconds, minutes, even an hour – it was impossible to tell when in the real world, Sandy might be editing the speed of this memory to save time – but as Jack watched through his past eyes, a shooting star formed high above, growing bigger and brighter the further it descended. Whatever had brought the past Sandman out here seemed to have been forgotten, Jack couldn't help but notice, as he remained motionless, gaze ever upon the object falling closer and closer, but never too close. Finally, the shooting star disappeared behind the horizon. Only a deep boom followed to alert anyone of its arrival, and even that soon faded.
Even if Jack could have moved, he didn't know that he would have. Having witnessed something so surreal (even by his standards), he couldn't help but remain there, absorbing the reality of the moment. North had been right; the moon had been struck by another stellar object, smashing off fragments and sending at least one of them down to Earth. And if that part was true... could the rest of it be?
He wasn't sure exactly when he woke up, but eventually, the bringer of winter realized he was no longer hovering in an African field. Instead, he felt carpeted floor beneath the svelte body he knew as his own, which moved when he wanted it to. Feeling the freedom in that, he got right up to find Sandy still standing on the table.
"When was that?" Jack asked him numbly.
From the look on the Sandman's face and the way he tilted his head from side to side, he didn't seem to know for sure – as the oldest of the Guardians, he could be forgiven for not remembering everything – but he still summoned some dream sand and formed it into an answer; "1330s".
Before Jack could even react, Sandy reshaped his answer from when to where. The digits collapsed into sand on the tabletop, where they rearranged themselves perfectly into the continent from the memory he'd just shared. Once this was done, their master reached out and drew a small ring inside his scale model, very close to its centre. Jack had been right; this had happened in central Africa.
"Thanks, Sandy." he told his friend. "I owe you one. Oh, what am I saying... if this works, I'll owe you everything."
Selfless as ever, the Sandman waved Jack's gratitude off before showing both his hands with a tentative look. Jack took this to mean he was asking if there was anything else he could help with. One of the oldest, most experienced people on the planet was offering any additional knowledge he'd acquired over his long life.
Upon realizing this, Jack actually did stop himself from saying no, contemplating the opportunity. He was tempted to ask if Sandy knew anything about using Moonstones, but then thought that if he did, he would have shown him that already. There were plenty of other questions about the world they lived in, its rules, and the one who made them that came to mind, but Jack stopped himself from slipping down that slope. He had to stay focused on his mission to make Elsa immortal and change her fate from every other human's.
The thankful expression on his face disappeared as one question occurred to him. He looked seriously into Sandy's eyes.
"What's it like?" he asked quietly, to the Sandman's confusion. "Death? What is there, after?"
The oldest Guardian's eyebrows rose in surprise at the query, but Jack maintained his humourless expression, showing that he wasn't joking. He knew that all mythical beings (including him) had died at some point, their human lives ending so they could become what they were, but Sandy was the only one Jack knew had died and returned a second time. If anyone in the universe knew what there was after life, it had to be him.
The Sandman spent a long time pondering, until finally, he sighed soundlessly, pressed his lips together in a neutral line... and with a nod to Jack, turned away and hovered out of the dining hall.
Jack watched him go, but didn't try to stop him. Just witnessing his murder at Pitch's hands last year had been traumatic for him, still haunting his dreams now and then. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the actual victim, even if (or because) he did ultimately return. He couldn't blame Sandy for keeping his mouth shut about it in every way.
That still left Jack pretty clueless about what came after death, though. All he remembered before seeing the Moon was darkness. It had been dark, it had been cold, and he had been scared. Was that all there was after life? Or was his amnesia just leaving his afterlife as blank as his mortal one? He couldn't help but wonder – not for his sake, but Elsa's.
Like many humans, she believed in a paradise waiting at the end of every mortal life. She'd told him this before, believing that her parents were already there. But if that was the case, in trying to make her immortal, was he looking to keep her from that? If he succeeded, would he be saving her from endless darkness... or holding her back from reaching the light and the parents she missed so much? If it was the first, then great, but if it was the other... did he have the right to take that kind of gift away from her? Jack loved her more than anything. He wished her all the happiness in this world or the next. But which one would give her more?
I wish to be with you forever. his memory reminded him in her heavenly voice.
Jack felt himself relax a little at the thought. Even if he found a way to make Elsa immortal, it wasn't his choice, but hers. And the other night, she'd chosen to live. She'd chosen him. His Snow Angel wasn't the type to speak thoughtlessly. She was a queen. Considering all the possible outcomes and costs, and picking her words carefully based on that, was like breathing to her. If she had chosen to spend eternity with him, she must have known that it would mean forsaking her chance at the world after death – no matter how blissful it was.
At that realization, Jack felt more moved than he ever had in his over three hundred years, leaving all his doubt to melt away like ice.
Author's note: Fine, I admit it! The only reason I write these obnoxiously long author's notes is because I like listening to the sound of my own voice! There, I said it! I've confessed, just like you've always wanted me to! I hope you're happy!
*Laughs*
No, but in all seriousness, I actually write my thoughts like this because I genuinely find them interesting. I like to think a curious reader will understand some of my creative choices more this way. But then, I'm sure most people find their own thoughts interesting, and that doesn't mean that it's true. So, yeah, if my opinions and anecdotes don't grab you, that's okay. Just skip over all the bold text in my works and move right on to the next chapter.
For those of you who don't skip and move right on, here's another little pearl of wisdom I'd like to share with you all. If there are any stories you like here on FanFiction – from me or anyone else – I advise you to make backup PDF copies of them if you want to be sure you can reread them. See, the way the site is built right now, any stories writers upload only exist on the site for one year before they go down, which is such a stupid setup. Yeah, it does allow writers to go back and make changes (even I make the odd spelling mistake and only spot it after the fact), but it's not worth their work disappearing from the net forever. Granted, writers can renew their uploads, giving them another year on FanFiction, and I think most writers here (even a lot of retired ones) do that. But if the stories disappearing from my Favourites list are any indication, not everyone does – either due to not caring anymore, forgetting, or... worse things. Yeah, think about that. If I step into the road, get run over, and die tomorrow, then my stories' days on the internet are numbered – three hundred and sixty-five of them at the most. I haven't got a backup in place for that event, like a friend I've entrusted my login information to so they'll come in every year to save my work again. So if you like anything you see on this site, and want to come back to it someday, take a minute to copy it down in case the worst happens.
This has been another behind-the-scenes tip, and you're welcome.
Mikaelus, November 6th, 2024