Chapter Text
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The moon shines dimly through a curtain clad window, casting shadows on the pink bedspread of a young girl. She sighs and whimpers as nightmares plague her, the dream of a prancing unicorn being contorted and whisked away, only to be replaced by a black stallion.
The creature's ribs show through its sand-like skin, stretching over its lean frame as it stares her down with pure gold beady eyes.
It does not whine.
It does not neigh.
It simply stares.
Standing above her, in the waking world. Is none other than Pitch, the Nightmare king.
He chuckles darkly as her nightmare produces him a mare, he’s always been a fan of wordplay. The horse whisks around him in a cloud of thick black sand and rubs along his cheek as he grabs it unkindly, “Now, go tell the others it’s time.” He says cruelly before pushing the creature along.
He looked out the window at the moon, and grinned, “My nightmares are finally ready.”
He pauses to let the being take in his words before uttering, “Are your Spirits?”
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Jack had been having a wonderful day, he and the children had been having a snowball fight. It was full of laughs and giggles and squeals and all the other sounds of childish delight. Some of Jack's favorite sounds to be exact.
However trouble started when Cupcake refused to join in, she’d had problems with the other children in the past, but that usually stemmed from her being angry and today she looked anything but. She looked sad.
And Jack had every right to change that, he was the Spirit of Winter afterall! And winter is fun! He can’t have a sad child on his hands.
He scoops up some snow and it changes itself into a snowball for him, just like usual. He blows on it, coating it in his magic before chucking it at her.
Now. Typically when Jack does this his magic floods its target with euphoria, but this time? Cupcake hardly reacted to the impact and no blue flakes appeared around her eyes, there were no laughs and giggles, no uncontrollable smile. Nothing.
Well that's not right. Jack thought to himself, that’s never happened before? It’s never not worked…
Thinking perhaps Cupcake's sour mood was the problem he scoops another one up, blows on it and throws it at Monty, a skittish boy who was in a decent mood. Jack cringed when the child was knocked over by the snowball but it soon turned to concern when Monty didn’t react to it either.
Something is wrong.
He looks up at the swirling clouds, as a gust of wind brushes past him, nearly knocking him off his feet. That’s odd…the wind sylphs usually always pardon him.
Far above where Jack or even the children can see, is the Spirit of The Winds, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, and he too has noticed something is off.
His wind sylphs are all out of balance, they keep dropping and picking back up at a rate that is unusual even for the most unpredictable winds.
As if reading his thoughts a sylph flies up to him, but something is wrong. It’s all wobbly and not at all graceful, “What’s going on?” he inquires.
The sylph transfers its voice into his mind, “We do not feel well, storms are building in places that the temperature will not allow.” About fifty high pitch voices speak in tandem.
Hiccup puts a hand to his chin, eyes squinting in thought, “That is not right. A tornado…In Hawaii are you sure? That should not be.”
He hums and turns to the sylph, “Round up the sylphs causing it and have them brought to me…Something is wrong. Something is terribly, terribly wrong.”
The little sylph nods and makes a gust of wind to quickly be carried off in, as it soars it brushes past a window knocking it open in its hurry and panic.
The window’s violent open startles Rapunzel immensely, nearly making her mess up in her healing of Odette’s fear.
The Spirit of Light has been at hard work as of late. It seems more and more children have been afraid and she’s been up all night going from house to house to heal it.
Poor little Odette is only 3, far too young for such vivid nightmares. It makes no sense, Halloween isn’t for another three months! If children were having nightmares then, she would understand but now?
Rapunzel feels a zap of pain through her head and sees her light flicker. What. That. That shouldn’t be! Her light has never flickered before! And especially not while healing a child's fear!
She didn’t see that. No. No she did not. It was simply just her imagination and the headache? Ah, well she’d been at this all night! Of course it’s tiring her…She doesn’t listen to the little voice in the back of her head telling her that she’s never gotten fatigued from healing a child's nightmares before.
She doesn’t feel weak. No she’s just sleepy, yes that’s it. Sleepy.
The light spirit quietly re-covers the sleeping toddler and makes her way out, using her long golden hair to wrap around a light post and swing herself to the ground.
She’s just tired and should go sleep it off in her tower, that’s all.
Nothing is wrong!
The Spirit of Fate’s morning had started out like many before it. She blew her hair from her face and grabbed her holster with her bow and unmissable arrows and she set to work.
Typically the wisps would be waiting for her patiently only today they jumped at her arrival, they floated to her quickly and tugged at the hem of her dress.
“Ah, what got ye all eager this morning?” She asked, aiming for a playful chat but the wisps were afraid. That made no sense, she’d never seen them afraid before.
They tugged her in multiple directions and one floated up frantically pointing to her temple.
“Ya want me to look at the fate paths?” She asked puzzled, they’d never wanted that before and she typically tries not to meddle in mortal fates, she usually just nudges them in the right direction.
Sighing and closing her eyes, she reaches into her mind brushing against the invisible trigger within her subconscious, when she reopens them she’s standing in a familiar grass field with stones forming a circle around her.
Three wisps followed her and they tug her down a path, what she sees causes her to gasp. The fates…The strings of fate are all frayed and…dim.
The usual brightly glowing strings of destiny look nearly severed! She turns to a wisp, “What’s happened?” She demands but the wisps simply cry and tug at her cape, her hair, her dress, begging her to fix it.
This is not right. Something is wrong. Something is terribly inexplicably wrong.
Without another moment's hesitation she turns to her wisps, “Call the other Spirits.”
And they all disperse.
She can only hope that the other three haven’t noticed anything wrong and that it’s just something with fates. Something in her gut tells her this is bigger then she hopes.