The Sweetest Dream of the Spectral Boy

Chapter 9

Shadows weighed heavily on the ship as the fearlings, discombobulated as they had been with one another until this point, began to find a synergy through the force of their hunger. It didn't take long for them to sniff out the few remaining living beings left, and Kozmotis scrambled for his sword, jumping in front of Emily and Nightlight, slashing wildly just to keep the dark creatures at bay.

Emily's heart thumped unnaturally loud as she awoke with a start. The first thing she saw, the image of a Nightlight without any glow and completely conked out, being gnawed at by something dark and feral that she didn't have the time to understand before she'd gathered all her strength and smacked it away with a forceful kick across the room. Desperate and scared, she leaned over Nightlight and placed her hand on his chest over his heart in a child's attempt at checking for a pulse, tears already welling in her eyes.

Kozmotis took a second to glance down at Emily and Nightlight to ensure their safety and found that there was no way the three of them were going to get out of this alive. It was hopeless. Nightlight is possibly dead or infected, and Emily was just a child. Kozmotis was vastly outnumbered here, and he was no great warrior. Never had he so much as seen fearlings with his own eyes before this journey. He'd hardly even been trained.

In a search for something, anything that wasn't just giving up, a series of blindingly bright memories began flash through Kozmotis' mind.

One after the other, pieces had been placed in front of him, by Nightlight. From the moment he first saw him. Despite being vastly outnumbered, Nightlight stood against the fearlings and his light shone to cut through the dark. Kozmotis had never seen anyone who was not only so brave as to do so, but to give everyone the feeling that they would be safe. In the short time they'd known each other, Kozmotis had learned to interpret and understand a lot from his vague gestures and playful smiles. The spectral boy may have always been enigmatic, but he practically exuded peace.

He'd learned to have courage to stand against hopelessness.

If worst came to worst, they would all be infected. Kozmotis had to do this right. There must be no room for fear in his heart.

All within the span of a few seconds, Kozmotis dropped his sword and yanked the nearest fearling toward himself and promptly bit hard into the nebulous substance it was made of. The creature shrieked and Kozmotis felt himself trying not to gag on the sensation as though he'd just eaten a rotten egg, and found himself nearly suffocating as the darkness of the varmint flowed into his eyes and nose as well as his mouth. When it was done, nothing was left of the creature, and Kozmotis felt...powerful. As though instead of infecting himself with a virus meant to weaken, kill, and eventually take control of him, this act had instead fortified his bones and strengthened his resolve to protect Nightlight and Emily.

Emily stared in wonder as Kozmotis seemed to grow the slightest bit taller, looming over the fearlings as if they were his prey and not the other way around, and biting them one at a time until all had either hurried away or been absorbed into him.

It was scary, but when he turned around for her to see his face once all the danger had gone, his face had become gentle and caring. There was no sign of infection or evil in sight, and she immediately ran to him, sobbing as she shut her eyes and grasped her arms around the neck he presented as he bent down to pick her up, offering soft reassurances and rubbing her back.

Without letting go of Emily, Kozmotis reached with his free arm toward Nightlight's motionless hand, feeling no pulse just as the room was rushed by soldiers there to rescue them.

For nearly everyone on that ship, it was just too late.

They of course immediately checked the three of them for infection, all negative. In a blank daze, Kozmotis reported to them about the attack, and they responded by telling him of how many other survivors on the ship there were and about who had started the distress signal, but it all felt unimportant. Even his managing to somehow miraculously rid of those fearlings felt unimportant, if not for Emily. There'd been such an adrenaline rush of belief that things would just work out as long as he held no fear, but instead, now all he was left with was numbness and a crying child. He was glad to have saved her, but if belief was the answer, then why couldn't he have saved Nightlight? Or any of the now-dead refugees all over the ship?

Why did he get to live, when the only person who was truly courageous had died?

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When Pitch awoke this time, he was crying in Kozmotis' stead, why not, when he'd been so unable to cry over what happened to Nightlight back then, too stuck in the shock of it all? Now, there was so much space within Jack's mind where he was allowed to breathe and understand how hard of an experience it had been. Jack himself was right there beside him with an odd and somewhat goofy look on his face, and it felt like a home.

"That's disturbing." Pitch blinked and glared at Jack as though that odd thought had been all his fault.

"No, what's disturbing is you saying something cryptic and then falling asleep on me." Jack cocked an eyebrow and gave a halfhearted smile. "I didn't see anything. Do you...wanna talk about it?"

"Talk?" Pitch asked, acting as though the very concept of communication was new despite it coming out a bit strangled.

Jack nodded gently, taking a deep breath only to release it slowly as he gathered courage and reached out to him, his hand wiping away some wetness on his cheeks to make a point.

The point was well made. In that soft moment, Pitch did feel like maybe he could talk to Jack. Tell him everything about how he felt. But that would be far too much, so he would just start with this. "You saw nothing because Nightlight died. It was so long ago, and I wasn't me yet, and you died."

Although he tried not to, Jack felt a little happy that Pitch would wake up crying to the knowledge of his death- to know that he cared that much....but it wasn't really Jack. It was Nightlight, he reminded himself. He was a different person- a person that Jack hardly remembered being at all. Once that was all sorted through in his head, though, one thing just didn't seem to add up. "But...I'm...? Not dead. I mean, I am definitely very dead, but that's not-"

"No, you're right. Nightlight never truly died. I met him again, years later."