Jack Frost has gone.
Exactly fifty years after the Guardians' showdown with the shadow manipulating Pitch Black, the Winter Spirit has disappeared.
The remaining four Guardians called upon the Man in the Moon for help. He warned them that there was...
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Darkness. Silence. Emptiness. Her eyes flicker open. Nothing changes. She cannot hear anything. She cannot see anything. Her heart thumps loudly against her chest, and her mind wanders to what she last remembered. She remembered her friends, as small as specks. She remembered the failed plan. She remembered the feeling of frost against snow. Elda's eyes slowly focus on her surroundings, adjusting to the dim light. Three blank, stone walls. One line of bars. One slate of cobble. One trapped and afraid immortal. Time passes slowly as the fear sets in. It felt like hours since anything had happened. Elsa is sat in the corner, and hugging her knees as her only source of comfort. A bead of sweat travels down her forehead. The others are looking for me. They'll find me. ... Won't they? Her icy blue eyes flicker over to the bars, and suddenly notice the shape of a figure. She pales slightly as she stares at it, trying to decide whether she was being watched or if she was imaging things. "Took you long enough to notice," A cold voice echoes around her cell. "W.. what?" She stammers softly, before taking a deep breath to calm her stuttering nerves. "What do you want with me?" "Not me. Pitch. Pitch wants you for something. You'll find out soon enou-" His statement is interrupted with a groan, and the dark figure stumbles back against a wall. "Come out of the shadows," Elsa murmurs, watching the figure still. He obeys. Jack Frost isn't Jack Frost. His usually frosty white hair is black. His usually icy blue eyes are black. His usually snowy white skin is... grey. It looked like the darkness was consuming him. Her eyes widen, and Elsa finds herself at loss of words. He noticed her expression. "That's not the worst part." He murmurs. His confidence had weakened in a matter of seconds. In fact, he sounded... afraid. Almost as afraid as she was. He leans his staff against the wall, before using his hands to carefully lift his hoodie part way. A patch of entirely black was on his chest. Elsa pushes herself to her feet, walking slowly to the bars, her eyes transfixed on the darkness. "Does it hurt?" She asks softly, moving her eyes back up to his. He nods a little, swallowing slightly before letting it fall back down and taking his staff in his hand, as if suddenly realising what he was doing. A stern look flashes across his face again. "Like I said. Pitch wants you for something." He mutters, going to step back into the shadows. "No, wait..." Elsa reaches through the bars and grabs his hand. Unlike before, she felt nothing. No pull towards the other winter spirit, no attachment like she'd felt before. Nothing. She bites her lip slightly and looks at him. Jack glares at her now, tugging his hand away and disappearing into the darkness. As fast as he'd come, he'd gone. "You didn't feel anything that time, did you?" A voice snickers. This one is less cold, less guarded. More powerful. It was a voice that made her want to retreat back into the corner. He doesn't wait for a reply before he steps out of the shadows. Elsa steps back, staring in fear at the immortal before her. Pitch Black himself. Never before had she, or the other Seasons for that matter, seen him. Hadn't seen his grey skin, his glowering golden eyes, his significantly taller figure. Hadn't seen how the darkness seemed to bend towards him. It's a lot to take in. "Wh.. What did you do to him?" Elsa manages to stammer, her eyes lowering and avoiding his. He smirks. "You help me, you can save him. I'll release him from his current state." "And- uh, what if I don't?" He shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, Jack would still do it. It would be harder for him, and probably kill him. If it didn't, the shadows would." "I thought.. I thought you can't kill an immortal." "There are ways. That's one of them." Elsa swallows, staring strongly at the ground, unsure of what to say next. "It's your decision," He states, watching her. Jack... "What do I have to do?" She asks quietly, hugging her arms to her chest and finally raising her gaze. Pitch Everything in her mind told her not to, not to agree, not to trust him. But for once, she didn't listen to her mind. She listened to her heart. And her heart told her that that poor, broken boy needed putting back together.
Hey guys!! Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter. I don't really have a great excuse - I'm just tired and can't concentrate. Welp. So.. QOTD: How has your day been? ((AOTD: Meh. Tho I did go archery so that has raised it's quality by like 20%))
