The Guardian chosen by the Moon

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The north wind carried me to Toronto. The city stretched below me, an ocean of concrete and glass interspersed with snow-covered parks and streets illuminated by Christmas decorations. Light flakes fell from the night sky, casting a magical glow over the cold urban landscape. Despite the biting December cold, the streets were alive: families strolled bundled up in heavy coats, couples walked hand in hand, and children laughed as they played in the snow accumulating on the sidewalks.

I descended gently, letting my feet brush against the top of a lamppost. From there, I watched the residential neighborhoods unfold below, a mix of Victorian houses and modern constructions with snow-covered roofs. The streets were lined with bare trees, their branches adorned with twinkling fairy lights. It was a stark contrast to the city center, illuminated by store signs and the shimmer of skyscrapers. Here, tranquility reigned.

I silently glided over the houses, listening to the laughter of children inside, the chatter of families gathered around warm meals. These kinds of scenes filled me with a strange nostalgia. Yet, something was off in the air—something subtly unnatural. It wasn't the wind or the cold. It was a silent fear, diffused like an invisible wave. I might not have noticed it if I hadn't been looking for it.

As I landed on a lamppost near a school, I overheard a group of children talking.

"I swear, I saw something! Giant black horses with golden eyes... They were right behind the warehouse!"

One of the boys shook his head, laughing. "Stop it, Liam. You're just making stuff up to scare us again."

Another, more skeptical, shrugged. "And why would there be black horses in a warehouse, huh? That makes no sense."

Liam, a ten-year-old boy with messy hair, stood up straight, his gaze full of conviction. "Come see for yourselves! If you're scared, that's not my problem. I'm going back."

The others exchanged hesitant looks. Then, one of them shrugged. "Alright, we'll follow you, but if there's nothing, you owe us all a chocolate bar."

I straightened up. A kid talking about black horses with golden eyes? That was no coincidence. I finally had a tangible lead.

Silently, I followed them as they crossed the city. They headed toward the shore of Lake Ontario, where massive abandoned warehouses stood—relics of a long-gone industrial era. The wind grew stronger here, icy and sharp, whipping up swirls of snow on the frozen ground.

Arriving in front of a crumbling building, Liam stopped. The place was eerie: an old metal structure with rusted walls, its large doors half-open, creaking under the force of the wind.

"This is it," he whispered.

The other kids hesitated, but pride won over caution, and they entered one by one. I followed discreetly, my breath forming white mist in the cold air.

Inside, the warehouse was even more sinister than its exterior. Old wooden crates were stacked in the corners, covered in a thick layer of dust. Metal beams bent under their own weight, making the place look like a skeletal ruin.

The children moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. Nothing seemed unusual. No sign of nightmare horses.

"See?" one of the boys said, shrugging. "Nothing here."

Liam opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment, a chilling breeze swept through the room, bringing with it an indescribable shiver. The atmosphere changed instantly.

The air grew heavy.

A suffocating silence fell over the warehouse. The children shivered, rubbing their arms as an inexplicable fear crept over them.

Then, Liam froze. His gaze locked onto a dark corner of the warehouse. His lips trembled. "They're… They're here."

The others exchanged nervous glances. "What? Liam, stop messing around..."

But before they could finish their sentence, one of the children let out a strangled cry and fell backward, trembling. He might not have been able to see what was happening, but he could feel their presence.

So could I.

I could see them. Dark, indistinct shapes detached from the shadows. Horses made of swirling black mist, their golden eyes piercing the darkness, their manes flowing like liquid nightmares. They moved slowly, like predators savoring their prey's fear.

Liam was the first to react. He grabbed one of his friends' hands and pulled hard. "Run!"

But the others were paralyzed. They could feel the terror locking them in place. This was Pitch's doing. He was slipping into their minds, trapping them in their own fears.

I tightened my grip on my staff. It was time to act.

With a swift leap, I landed in front of the children, raising a hand. A blast of freezing wind swept through the warehouse, kicking up dust and forming a barrier of snow between them and the nightmares.

"Hey, smoke piles!" I called out, pointing my staff at the creatures. "Now's not the time to play with my kids."

The nightmare horses stopped. They saw me. They recognized me.

Slowly, they stepped back, but one let out a piercing shriek before charging. I reacted instantly, sending a wave of ice that froze its legs to the ground. With a swift motion, I spun my staff and raised a wall of snow, stopping their advance.

The nightmare horses circled around me, their golden eyes glowing with malevolence. I gripped my staff tighter and took a deep breath. It was time to end this.

With a fluid motion, I lifted my staff above my head and summoned a concentrated blizzard. Snow whirled violently around me, condensing into razor-sharp ice shards. I launched a blast at the first horse, freezing it instantly into a sparkling ice block. The other creatures hesitated, but I didn't give them the chance to flee. A second wave of freezing wind engulfed them, trapping them one by one in spectral ice sculptures.

The nightmare beasts struggled, scraping their hooves against the frost, but they were trapped. I stepped forward slowly, raising my staff to seal them completely in their prison. With a final, resonant crack, the ice encased them, and in a spectral shudder, they vanished into dust, carried away by the night wind.

Silence returned to the warehouse. The children, frozen in place, watched the scene with wide eyes. Liam, still breathing heavily, clenched his fists. He had seen everything. I turned to him with a mischievous grin and gave an exaggerated bow.

"Ladies and gentlemen, children of Toronto, I present to you: Jack Frost, the superhero of kids!"

"You're the one who fought with Thor! I saw the video on YouTube!" one of the children shouted.

"You… You're real," Liam whispered.

I knelt down to his level. "Of course, I'm real. And you, Liam, you're one special kid."

He frowned, still in shock. "I... I can see those things. But no one else can…"

I nodded slowly. "That's why I'm interested in you. Most people—even adults—can't see nightmares. But you can."

He swallowed hard. "Why me?"

I shrugged. "That's a great question. Maybe you have a special connection to the dream world. Maybe you're closer to magic than most people. Or maybe... you have a role to play in all this."

Liam stayed silent for a moment, staring at the floor, trying to process everything I had just said.

"Liam, are you coming? We need to get home! No one's gonna believe me at recess..." one of the kids called out.

He hesitated, then looked me straight in the eyes. "Do you think those… those monsters will come back?"

I gave him a reassuring smile. "Not if I can help it. But if you ever see them again, call for me. You're not alone in this."

Liam nodded, a new glimmer in his eyes. He was just a kid, but he understood that something important had just happened. And I had found my first real lead in understanding what Pitch Black was planning.