A Lonely Boy

Late at night, an immortal boy with snow white hair, ice pale skin, and crystal blue eyes, lies on a frozen lake. He has been lost and alone for a long time. Far longer than any child should ever be left to his own devices.

It is not by his own choice that he lies alone in the middle of the forest on a lake, frozen solid by his own magic, staring up at the stars and the Moon with millions of unanswered questions running through his head. Questions, sadly, that won't be answered for a long time…

"Why am I here?" he asks the Man in the Moon for, perhaps, the thousandth time in his sixty plus years as an immortal. "I know that I'm supposed to spread snow, Wind told me that, but…is that all?"

As usual, he was answered with nothing but the steady and unwavering glow that the Man in the Moon emitted. In recent years, he began to doubt there even was a MiM at all.

The boy rolled onto his side, taking comfort from the wooden staff and the gentle ruffling the wind gave his hair...reveling in the contact from his only friends. He no longer wished to look at the Moon. He use to take comfort from the glow of the Moon, believing that the man within it was watching and protecting him in the nights it would glow full and bright. Now, however, it only made him wistful and bitter. To see the Moon glowing so bright, believing with all of his heart that the man within it was his maker and protector, and yet, never receiving answers from the one he knew could provide them. The Moon had ignored his pleas for more than half a century now, and the hope that MiM cared for him began to diminish.

Wind ruffled the boy's hair again. Her boy had been swimming around in bitter and dark thoughts for too long now. She would do anything for her boy. He has always been so kind and caring, starting games with the children in villages all over the world. He loved to play and have fun, and Wind enjoyed the innocence that her winter boy possessed. He made her ancient self feel…joy, young, and many other things that she had not felt before she pulled him from the lake at MiM's request all those sixty plus years ago. He loved to play games and laugh, and she loved to indulge in his antics.

He made time move slower. Before him, Wind had not paid attention to the lives and the world she blew through. She did not care for the beauty and joy that her boy seemed to see in everything! But he had taught her different. He got her to slow down and look at the world, really look at it! His never ending wonder never failed to make her twirl in happiness, for it was the closest she could come to smiling.

Now, there were times like this, where he becomes overwhelmed with such horrible sadness. Even though she knew he was never truly alone in these times, fore she would never leave his side, Wind had come to the conclusion that his heartache came from a longing to have contact with someone who was actually…solid and who spoke with a real voice. She supposed it was because he was so much like the mortal children he so dearly loved to play with, who needed mother, fathers, and friends to be happy and comfort them. She would try of course, to give him comfort, but he would never be truly soothed without the embrace, ones like the mortals share when they seek comfort, from someone solid and with a real voice. Wind could always try though…

The winter boy smiled gently, knowing he was worrying his dear friend.

"I'm sorry Wind. I know I worry you when I get like this." He told her. The boy sighed deeply now. "Do you think I'll ever know the answers?"

It were in situations like this one when Wind dearly wished she had a mortal's voice. She wished she could tell her beloved spirit that she believed with all of her being that, one day, he would have everything he dreams of so often. He was too kind and good to not have his wishes granted. But, above all, she wished she could tell him that even though she wasn't solid and couldn't give the soft words and loving embraces that one who was tangible could, she would never leave him. Wind, at least, would always be there for her boy.

She could not say these things though, so instead, she blew a gentle breeze across his cheek, hoping it conveyed the love she felt for him within it.

He smiled softly and sighed gently through his nose. His eyes were drifting shut, so Wind blew some snow from a nearby snowbank on to the surface of the solid lake to surround him. Soon, sleep would take him, and Wind would watch him as he rested, curled around the staff that had been with him for as long as she had.

High above, the Man in the Moon smiled down at the gentle child he had saved decades ago. Well, he hoped he had saved him. There were several ways that this winter child's story could go, many of them ending in despair. Sadly, MiM had to admit that leaving the boy to this lonely existence arose from selfish reasons. He needed him to be lost, and to be hurt. This was his trial period, should the boy's path end where he hoped it would; as a Guardian. But MiM needed to know that this is why he had chosen to bring the boy back from a frozen grave. Not because he took pity upon his premature death, but because he had truly seen a protector, a Guardian, within the boy. MiM knew that if he could survive the loneliness, and pain that his current life was bringing him, and still find wonder, beauty, and fun in the world that refuses to acknowledge him, then this winter boy could become the best Guardian that MiM has ever chosen.

However, if he let bitterness and despair take him over, then MiM would have done nothing more than have made a perfect and powerful ally for a certain dark spirit…

But the only way to know, was to see who the boy would be after suffering through a solitary existence.

MiM felt guilty for it. He knew it was selfish, but perhaps, when it's all over, and the winter boy has the happy ending MiM hopes desperately he can give him, the boy will forgive him…or, at least, understand.

MiM smiled down at his winter spirit. He sent a moonbeam down over his closed eyes, sending magic along with it to help him drift into a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

"Sleep well Jack Frost."