Burgess
It was a mess. The throne room were nearly placed into ruin—the enormous pillars almost surrendered in bearing the weight of the lair, large cracks and falling rocks resonated over but the darkness never changes. The throne chair were destroyed, left in an undistiguished shape. The cold floor were filled with dark sand.
And at the inner hallway, where another room is located, welcomed the most intimidated foresight the King of Darkness could see.
The rusting cages on the ceiling were broke open—rather, they had escaped from his watch. At the sight of it, the keys were forced to be removed and unlocked. No one was left. Even just one person that Pitch can use for threat and vengeance. No one.
Filthy Guardians.
Pitch sneered.
They escaped and run away. And the worst, they lived.
The King of Darkness was standing at the center of the lair. His back shivered—with anger and terror. The black globe were alive, the yellow lights constantly flicker at his sight.
"They're helping them. The Guardians are helping them." He hissed. "I can feel it—they tend to regain their strengths and powers they lost."
Gothel listened. She was watching him from behind.
A portal opened—like a mirror that shows whatever is happening from another realm. Pitch eye's sharpened, like a dagger, he watched attentively.
The colors shone and danced through their skins.
"Idiot!" He splat.
A drop of fresh scarlet fell from the end of his pale lips.
The golden blonde kneeled onto the cold ground and neared beside the lifeless redhead—she was paler than before... weaker than before. The two men watched behind her. Anticipating with a tremendous beating heart.
She placed her trembling hands over her chest. The redhead was struck and blasted by an unexplainable force. Her veins were tinted black—it was visible over her pale skin.
The golden blonde closed her eyes and silenced.
Until a bright blinding golden light spread through the darkness like sheet. It almost blinded him...
Pitch turned his back away. His hands were fisted by his side because of ruthless anger.
"I should have killed them! I should have taken the chance and showed no mercy!" Pitch breathed. "And imagine what I could do now."
Regret. It tasted bitter all over his tongue and mouth. Pitch should have known better—drowned them with fear and killed them in his very eyes. Strangled them. Poisoned them. Stabbed them with a dagger.
He could have done all of these.
But he waited and plotted plans... for nothing.
Pitch had lost a battled between the Guardians. Him and Gothel failed. And they've taken something important against his will. Pitch hid it too well and they've found it within a snap.
Of course, two against four.
His nail prickled through the golden object. Pitch held it tightly in his grasp—so hard it can be shattered into pieces. The only one left.
The only one.
They've stolen two memory boxes. What a surprise.
Pitch cannot form into a plan of his. His mind trudged through every corners. He knew, one wrong move, it will be his end and doom. He needed to do something now.
He needed to.
It will be a shame, he thought.
Oh, but still, he have the remaining memory box. He still have a chance.
He will unleash everything that remained in his veins and at his fingertips. Time will tell... and Pitch will reveal how powerful he really is.
At the very hour, the night latter darkened. The sky scowled at the corners as black sand covered the entirety of it, the stars did not shone nor twinkled. The wolves howled. The wind growled like tornado. The trees swayed uncontrollably. And at every corners of Burgess, shadows escaped from their prisons and into the moonlight. Nightmare flew in large groups—an army.
Pitch whispered to their ears to hunt and kill everyone they passes though.
No mercy.
He neared through the portal... a mischievous smile painted his lips.
His eyes shone deadly.
"Kill away."
****
North Pole
The workshop once again bloomed in life. The elves and yetis worked continuously as they've woken up from slumber. Even them, were hunted by nightmares. No one can guarantee what really happened during their sleep.
It was years. A decade.
The Guardians were circled through a wooden table. A gigantic globe located meters across—larger than Pitch's... livelier than what the King of Darkness has.
They have regained their own true powers. North—who woken up firstly, felt the energy in his veins. Like fireworks lighten a dead breathless man. The four teenagers had found a way to near each other—until a narrow bond had formed.
Pitch cannot guarantee his victory, North thought.
As long as the teenagers live, the Guardians will be alive as well. They were feeding through them and they would help back as a debt.
They have to.
If not, this realm will drown in chaos and havoc.
Because of Pitch's ruthless vengeance.
"We have to launch another attack!" The Bunnymund exclaimed. "If we'll stay here longer, that 'frickin old man will bury as in our own graves! Ya don't understand mate."
The angry Easter bunny paced around the room. It smelt of wood and magic. He had been holding the boomerang in his furry paws ever since they've arrived from the first battle against Pitch, which happened a day ago.
"It isn't that easy, Bunnymund." Toothania flew pass through them.
Her violet eyes trembled in warning and determination.
"Don't ya see, mate? He'll attack again and were too late to even notice it!"
The Sandman were silently listening at the center. Golden sand smoothly flew in air as he waits for North to say something—or The Man in Moon to finally show himself.
North touched and smoothen his beard. A dark tattoo of 'naughty or nice' painted on one of his arms. His sleeves are folded. His gaze shot through the globe with million of lights—blinking.
And at a certain continent, four bold lights shone the brightest among them all.
"Do you know what brought us to life?"
His thick and rasp Russian voice echoed.
"Those kids!" He threw his arm at the direction of the globe.
"Jack Frost, the two Princesses and the Viking! Their bond brought us together again. We wouldn't be here if they remained separated and divided."
North ducked his head low.
"But... we aren't the only ones who's trying to help them."
The toothfairy cocked her head and flew quickly to his location. Her body gleamed in sparkling glitters.
"The witch from the Kingdom of Dun'broch." She answered.
"Yes. She might met one of them or encountered a Princess—thinking she have great potential. She had stolen one of the memory box by the use sorcery and send it to the outside world—none of us saw it. We were left in deep slumber. The witch is wise."
Bunnymund had finally calmed down.
"Well, we can't stay here forever."
North faced all of them. Their faces was drawn together—to satisfy their own inquiry and curiosity.
"Yes. I know." He muttered.
His mind stopped for a moment. Ever since they've escaped from Pitch's lair, he had communicated with them. He thought, they needed his help.
The voice, the man behind the voice—it was North all the time. He mastered the power of telepathy.
North gazed at the memory box in his grip. One. It shone in bright gold. They had retrieved it back at the exact day of the battle but they were too outnumbered not to notice they've only snatched two.
Two.
"Ya'v thrown the other memory box into the portal like hour ago... what do ya plan now, mate?"
North stared at the golden cylindrical object. A familiar and similar face plastered at the end of it.
"We have to strengthen our defenses at hand. Now or never, we have to be stronger than Pitch... smarter than him. We all know, his mind is full of chaotic plans." North's voice louden and tightened.
He snatched one snow globe in his pockets—it served a teleportation for them as the guardians of children. North forcefully threw the snowglobe at the floor that shattered in tiny pieces...
Until a portal appeared. The swirling color stiffened and cleared. Like a door—it fits anything that comes in.
"None of us will survive at the outside world. How much we insist of traveling through portals to help—even Pitch, we cannot travel to other realms."
"Why is that?" Toothania cleared.
"If we'd fail a certain mission, we will rot and die at that realm... and we cannot return here. Ever."
Of course, North had considered the idea of traveling at the realm where Pitch threw the teenagers—to help them, bring them back here... but there is no assurance. The King of Darkness is always watching. Always.
"Once again, I'll throw this into that same place."
As what North said, he payed a final look at the memory box. He send the object through the moving portal—like a force field, it passed through and disappeared. The portal shakes and faded away.
Waiting for the person to find the box for himself.
"This night or the incoming days, we have to be prepared." North warned with two swords in his hands.
Bunnymund played his boomerang. Sandy collected his power together, into a massive compacted ball. Toothania floated around with her allies.
They are so close to unlock answers. Whether it happens within a snap of fingers, they are so close to defeat Pitch, whatever plans he have in mind.
North's eyes darkened.
His face tightened.
"There's only one left."
-
At the land of Burgess, The King of Darkness moved out from his lair. Pitch wandered through the grass fields—burning it and turning the soil into ashes. His army stood behind him... and Gothel.
And within his grip, laid the last memory box.
The last one.
He smiled devilishly.
And sneered.
"I'm ready."
****
Author's Note:
Tada! Another chappie! :)
I just wanted to make it clear tho XD: The first memory box, which was retrieved by the Witch belongs to Merida.
The second one belonged to Punzie, which is by the way, the first memory box North threw at the portal after the very battle.
And... the third, which North used a snow globe to open the portal. Who do you think it belongs to? :)
Finally, the last one! Gah, things is getting complicated, tho. Haha! I hope you enjoyed reading and 5 more chapters to go!
Lots of love :)