Rise Of The Guardians - The Life Of A Spirit

Mabon Hærfest

Jack sighed and rested his head on the trunk of the tree behind him. It had taken him a decade or so to manage to sit comfortably on tree branches for extended periods of time but now they made the perfect beds. But despite his comfort, he was not content. He had been alone for twenty-five years and was desperate for someone to notice him. He had some success with animals who he was able to touch and occasionally play with. He had even befriended a stray cat in Russia that he visited daily for a few years before it had died, leaving him alone once again. He stared down at the frosted grass he had just finished creating, marvelling at the way it sparkled like stars in the pre-dawn light. He was somewhere in Europe, he didn't know exactly which country, but he knew he wasn't supposed to be here this early into Autumn. The weather was only just cooling down again. But he was not inclined to move just yet. It wasn't as if someone was going to tell him off or anything.

A cool breeze ruffled his hair and he frowned, lifting his head again to stare out at the field. It wasn't one of his; it was much too warm. As he was searching, he caught sight of a shape darting between the trees at the opposite end of the field, too fast for him to see properly, just a brown shadow. Was it a bird of some kind?

Abruptly, it rose to hover above the tree tops and Jack could clearly see it was a person, or rather, a spirit like him. They were dressed similarly with leggings and a woollen tunic, but the other spirit wore a sheepskin vest under a long brown cloak which seemed to have something woven into the back of it. As he watched, the spirit seemed to ponder something among the trees, tapping his chin with a stick before dipping back down to skate along the treetops, his stick held out to brush the leaves as he passed. And before Jack's eyes, the leaves changed colour, shifting from shades of green to vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. Like ripples in a pond, the leaves of the trees he touched all changed colour until the entire other side of the field was a sea of bright colour. The spirit then appeared to notice the frost on the grass and frowned, dropping so he floated just inches from it as he examined it.

"Interesting motif," he said in an accent that sounded somewhere between English and Scottish, "It's a little early for frost but I can work with this."

He sounded as if he was giving advice for a painting and Jack realised the stick in his hand was actually a paintbrush and on his cloak, were a number of bright orange leaves sewn into the wool. He was also sporting a large leather satchel at his side also adorned with leaves. Jack had no doubt now he was observing some sort of Autumn spirit. The spirit rose from the grass and began to circle the field, passing close beneath Jack's tree but not appearing to notice him. As he did, a trail of mist began to rise from the frost behind him, floating several feet above the still frozen grass. When the entire field was partially cloaked, the spirit stopped and nodded to himself before calling, "What do you think?"

At first Jack wondered who he was talking to as his back was to him, but abruptly the spirit turned and stared directly at him, making Jack's heart skip several beats. He saw him. He had never encountered any other spirits who acknowledged his existence.

"Well go on!" the spirit continued, floating closer, "Any critique or advice? I think it will look amazing in exactly five seconds."

Before Jack could even think of mustering his unused voice to answer, the sun rose above the trees behind him and the forest ahead seemed to catch fire. The various shades of reds and oranges glowed with brilliance in the dawn light and the fog caught the reflection and appeared to swirl with colour. The frost below shone even brighter than when Jack had first created it and he couldn't help releasing an awe-filled gasp at the sight. The spirit nodded with satisfaction and said, "So adequate then?"

"It's amazing," Jack breathed, in a voice rusty from disuse.

"Oh, good. I was hoping for absolutely dazzling but it's still early in the season."