My Sister's a Guardian (RotG Fanfiction)

Chapter 60: The Change

(There are no content/trigger warnings for this chapter.)

--Ranya--

Butterflies clogged the sky. At first, I thought I was still hallucinating with all their colors, but then I realized that beneath my feet, the mud was brown and stable. Everything else—the lake-size water puddles, the surrounding trees of varying seasons, the sky—wasn't an eye-aching shade or swerving, too.

I spun at footsteps at my back and saw the rest of my family standing outside the lair entrance.

Something is wrong.

Pitch hadn't killed me. He hadn't killed the Guardians when he'd had the chance. And the Watcher and the soother hadn't stopped Isabelle or me from defeating Pitch. Like they weren't even trying to win.

But when I looked at my family standing there, smiling and unharmed, I could ignore it for a minute. Isabelle ran to them with a great smile—still mumbling under her breath; I couldn't hear it, but her mouth moved—and I followed. We embraced our dad first.

"Ranya! Isabelle!" he cried, and my mom joined in the hug. Zachary latched onto my leg and laughed.

"You're all right!" our mom said.

"Are you all okay?" I asked.

She nodded.

Pitch hollered behind us, and I let go and spun—as fast as I could with Zachary clutching my leg. Isabelle also turned and whimpered.

The butterflies no longer swarmed the Nightmare King. Instead, the Guardians had cornered him against a thick oak tree with red-leafed branches. His hands were raised in mock surrender. I was wondering why the Guardians didn't just attack when North spoke.

"What is your goal?" His grip on his sword tightened, then loosened. He knew this fight wasn't over—Pitch would just teleport away if struck. "What are you, the Watcher, and the soother trying to do?"

Pitch laughed. "You don't even know their real names. You don't even know who they are."

He vanished.

The Guardians spun, their eyes darting everywhere. I myself watched for signs of Pitch. A shadow, or a voice, or Black Sand. Isabelle's butterflies covered her as she scrunched into a ball.

I ducked out of the hug circle and pried Zachary off my leg. Bent and picked up the dagger from where I had dropped it when paralyzed. Mud on the handle slid down my palm and fingers.

I straightened. "Afraid, Pitch?" I shouldn't be insulting him anymore, right? But how else can I provoke him to reveal himself... This isn't even a good insult.

The wind pattered through the trees. Animals skittered along the forest floor. My parents and brother were silent. They probably, at least my mom and dad, thought I had made myself important in this fight. They didn't question me.

North furrowed his thick brows and rubbed his face. His eyes narrowed. "We must figure out Pitch's plan and stop his team."

I stepped forward, eager to join the hunt.

Bunny narrowed his eyes at me. "Not you."

"Isabelle," North called. "Join us."

Isabelle stood stock-still.

A twig snapped on the left side of the clearing. I turned. A middle-aged man with a sunburned face and pasty arms, his blue athletic shirt and shorts drenched, wandered through a gap in the trees. Beneath his long root-colored hair, his gray eyes were wild. Too bright.

He paused and glanced around.

I stepped forward as he looked over at my family and me.

"Do you know the way out of this forest?" His voice faded in and out in an abrupt manner.

"Sir, are you okay?" I grasped the dagger's grip hard.

Butterflies took off Isabelle as she tried to step away from our family. My dad gripped her shoulder and held her back. Did she not notice the risk? I moved in front of her.

But she said, "That way," pausing her mumbling and pointing to the far end of the woods. "Follow the path of destroyed trees."

The man didn't look where she pointed, or acknowledge her at all.

"Sir?" Her butterflies flooded the clearing and pushed our parents and me away as she approached the man.

My dad cried Isabelle's name.

I tried to burst through and swat the insects back, but they grabbed my arms and legs and pushed them together. I could hardly move.

"Sir?" Isabelle said. With all the butterflies, I could hardly see her reach out to touch his arm. But I noted the instant her hand passed straight through. She froze. The woods hushed.

Her face paled to white ash.

"Excuse me?" The man stumbled a few steps toward my family. He couldn't see her.

We'd both known she was a spirit now; her symbol had been complete for some time. But it was different seeing the repercussions.

(A/N: I appreciate all votes, comments, adds of this story to your reading lists, and follows!)