Protector of Lost Children

| EPILOGUE |

Hello, Readers! This is the last chapter of this work. Sorry that it's short, but it's longer than the last one. In a year or two, I'll rewrite this one again, and then after that, again. I'll always try to update it in the future to keep it fresh, but for now, I'm moving on to something else. Tuesdays will be free, but there is a possibility of Fridays filling up.

~CSP2708~

| Epilogue || Family Reunion |

The most elated grin stretched across her face. All her teeth were showing, and it seemed as if her jaw would split from the rest of her expression given by how wide she was smiling.

"He's okay," she told Jack. "He's alive; he's alright; he's going to be just fine." Utter relief spilled from her words as she pressed her ear back to her father's chest, laughing in relief as, once again, she heard his breathing, felt his breathing.

Jack knelt next to her, a similar smile on his face. "That's wonderful," he said, "But what about the others? How are we going to get them out of here? Do we just leave them? Do we take them back to their rooms? What do you think?"

Lupa looked up at him, looking as if she hadn't even considered that option. "Oh," she said. "Right. Well, let's call the yetis in to help because I'm not dragging anyone in or out of here."

She stayed with her father as Jack went to do that, but Jack noticed that when he got back, she and Pitch – Kozmotis – were gone. Looking around, he saw that Emily had also vanished. Whether she disappeared on her own or was taken, he didn't know, and he had no way to find out unless he found her first. He assumed that Lupa had taken them, despite her claim that she was not going to carry anyone.

"Here they are," he told the yetis, pointing to the guardians. Just take them back to their rooms, and when they wake up, let them know that Lupa took care of Pitch, and he's no longer a threat, ever. We won't be seeing him as the boogeyman ever again."

The yetis nodded, let out a jumble of their cluttered language, and began to pick up the guardians as if they were made of glass, carrying them off down the hallway. It only took five of them – as North needed two – so as soon as they were gone, Jack collapse onto the couch once more.

"Boy, it's been a long day," he said with a sigh. Turning his head slightly, he looked at the clock. His body was immediately straight in its seat, every hair on his body standing straight up. "It's only nine o'clock?" he screamed, "Ugh!" His head hit the back of the couch with quite a deal of force, but he didn't feel it. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him to the peaceful land he so often sought – like many other exhausted teenagers.

***

As soon as Jack had left, Lupa hoisted her father onto her shoulders. Morphing into a lioness, she easily carried him and her sister out of the central control room and to a quiet bedroom – which had once been used by her.

"There you go," she mumbled as she dumped the two of them on the bed. Emily had curled up like a dog – which, Lupa thought, was strange, seeing as she was the spirit of nature, not animals. Meanwhile, Kozmotis, remained still, only the rise and fall of his chest giving her the signs that he was still alive.

Lupa pulled up a chair to he father's side of the bed and just stared at him. From Pitch, he'd changed so much. His skin was no longer ashen grey, though his hair was black as ever. His body had filled out a little with muscle as fat so his no longer appeared to be skin and bones, which, as a spirit, was quite ironic.

As her gaze fell over him, she wondered if he'd just become a good spirit, or if he was back as a mortal, because if the latter were the case, she didn't know if she could handle him dying – again. She and her sister had already lost him once, and even though either of them had remembered it until recently, she'd been feeling the pain – albeit not knowing what it was from – for many centuries.

"Father?" she asked.

"Lupa..." she heard an answer, but it was not her father who called out to her. It was Emily. The nature spirit looked over at her sister, who was not half sitting up in bed, also looking down at their father, who was still asleep and unmoving.

"Lupa, do you think he'll be okay?" Emily's words were slightly slurred, but otherwise, she seemed to be just fine.

"I don't know, Emily," she replied, "I don't know."

"I hope he will be. I don't think I could take it if he died again."

"He might still," she told her sister. "Without the Fearlings controlling him, he might just be mortal. We don't know how long they have been keeping him alive."

"Oh." Emily's gaze turned downcast as the possible outcomes of their father's demise fell upon her. Now that she was thinking about his death, she couldn't stop, her brain coming up with the most gruesome, the most plausible, as well as the impossible ways for him to die. She couldn't stop the horrid images from running through her head.

Collapsing back on the bed, Emily closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side as if to shake the pictures from behind her eyelids. Lupa did the same, albeit shook her head first, then laid it on the bed, her fingers fiddling with her father's – now a light peach colour – fingers.

"Father?" she began, not knowing how to start. "Father, I hope you will be alright. I hope you will still be a spirit, even though you're no longer under the Fearlings' command – especially now that that's so. It would mean that we could we a family again, forever, but I know that there is a great chance that you won't be. They were the only things keeping you alive all those years, and I can't even begin to imagine what that must've been like. To be preserved by a force but be unable to move or do anything yourself."

"Yeah," Emily said, "I wish we'd found you earlier, and Lupa would've saved your earlier, and we would've been a family earlier. I remember, too, being along for so many centuries, wondering if there were others like me – knowing there were others like me but not being able to find or talk to them. We'd both been so alone, father, and I'm not sure that either of us would recover if you were to leave us again."

"We'll have each other, you can be sure of that," Lupa announced, not wanting to make her father worry, "But... we wouldn't have you and we've never had a mother. I know that we're grown-ups now, or, at least old enough to be, if we'd age, but we'll always be your daughters, and we'll always want you around."

Both girls stopped talking at that point, and only looked up again when they heard a sound. It was high, and dry, and scratchy: "My girls..."

It was Kozmotis.

He was awake and speaking.

"Father!" Both girls tackled the man from either side of him, their slim arms curling around his thin body like tentacles – they were never letting him go. Ever again. "You're okay!"

"Of course," he croaked. "I couldn't just leave my girls, now could I?"

"Of course not, but... you're still unwell, please rest," Lupa said as she loosened her grip, though didn't remove it entirely.

"Okay..." he replied. "I'll sleep some more, and we can go somewhere together in the morning, as a family. How does that sound?"

"That sounds wonderful, father," Emily said, rubbing her cheek on his. "Just get some rest for now."

Kozmotis' eyes closed once more, and this time, neither girl was worried, for they knew that he'd wake up again the next day.

Word Count: 1300

Posted: Tuesday, February 13th, 2018

~CSP2708~