Prologue

Darkness.

That's the first thing I remember.

It was dark, it was cold, and I was scared.

But then…then I saw the moon. It was so big, and it was so bright…too bright.

I shrank back into the cave from whence I crawled from. The light… it burned my skin in a way I could not fathom. But why? It was beautiful… Like the fool I was, I found myself reaching for it again; how could I not? It seemed impossible that something so sublime could hurt me. But it did.

Really…what did I expect?

Eventually the moon went down, and I must admit, I stayed up all night to watch it. When it left me, I again ventured outside of my little crevice. The sunlight at least was tolerable, though I did get the most irritating itch wherever it touched exposed skin—well, 'skin' being a loosely defined term. I've often thought about it; why does the sun not inflict pain on me equivalent to that of the moon? The closest answer I can come to is that it must have something to do with fire.

Fire…such a lovely thing. Such a lovely, wicked, disgusting thing, and I its master.

I did not travel far before I came across a village. It was there that I found ordinary people living their lives in harsh conditions, fighting bitter, horrible cold and a low supply of food. They did not see me, even in daytime. I stuck to the shadows and watched—oh how I watched. Everything was so normal, and though these tiny people had nothing, and though they wore scraps of cloth for clothes, they were happy. I still do not know why.

Weeks passed, and my vigil never ceased. I learned quickly that the world of man could be cruel, but I also witnessed how deeply it could love. The event in question that brought my epiphany to light (if you'll pardon the pun) occurred at the pond just outside of town. A boy, a little younger than me, gave his life in order to save his sister. He saved his sister from the ice, and how did the world thank him for it? With indifference. His life meant nothing simply because fate demanded it. That's what I thought anyway.

The boy's name was Jack.

It was a nice name. One I could use.

It was only a matter of time before I saw them; the woman with her feathers and wings, the fat man and his reindeer, the rabbit with his eggs, and the man of sand. They did not see me either. I watched them as they drove the darkness into a hole, and lit up the world with a wonderful light; a light that would hurt me whenever it touched.

Hopefully—or should I say, 'naively'—I thought I could be apart of it. Every night, the townsfolk would have a large fire burning in the middle of the market. I had not shown myself before, and I was nervous. I chose a day in the fall when the moon was dark, and steeling myself, I stepped forth to be bathed in glorious golden light.

But then it all went wrong.

While no one but the children could see the Guardians, creatures made of hopes and dreams, everyone could see the nightmarish creature that was me. My smile and raspy voice did nothing to soothe the clamor that followed my appearance; they were too afraid to listen, and I soon discovered why. The image of the creature in the nearby window was not of this Earth, but of an abyss fouler than anything any writer or poet could conjure.

The bottles and brick flung at me passed through my body like smoke. I pleaded with them to stop, I implored for them to understand that I meant no harm; that I could not if I had wanted to. Needless to say I eventually found myself talking to nothing but air. Thin air…and the fire.

With palms at my sides, I stared long and hard into the flickering light. I held my hand up to it; it did not hurt! But the angry tears that swelled from my yellow eyes hurt more than any beam of moonshine could. I was hurt. I was furious. I was bitter.

And it was that moment that I consider to be my true birth.

Moonlight hurt, the Sun ached, and the Earth would shun me whenever it saw my face.

If I could not become one with the light, then I would take some for my own!

The fire welcome me like an old friend. It was warm, and it felt right. I gathered it inside my body and held it there for as long as I could, but it would seep out through my eyes and mouth when my concentration slipped. So I grabbed the nearest thing in sight; a pumpkin, oddly enough; one large enough to fit over my head, and with it I fashioned another face to keep the fire inside. But that wasn't enough. I needed a way to keep the rest of that filthy, disgusting light off of me. A nearby long-coat offered me solace, and as soon as my fiery hands touched it's leather it turned into a shade of black as dark as night. It melded to my body, growing to fit my skeletal proportions and billowing about me like an angry swarm of locusts.

It was only then did I know my true calling, and the reason why I was summoned to this world. It was to erase the light. All of it. And all of those who would shun the darkness.

I would not fail like my brother. Oh no, he was too impatient; too ambitious. I would hide, and bide my time. And that's exactly what I've done. I've waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited to the point where I've gone mad.

But now I am ready. My brother has failed twice now; he does no service to the darkness. To give him credit though, he did reveal one thing about the Guardians this time around: their weakness. Oh Guardians, I have such a surprise for you.

I know they will fight.

I know they will lose.

And soon, the world will know just who the real Jack is.