The Guardian chosen by the Moon

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I looked up at the first-floor window where I had seen her. She was still there, standing behind the half-drawn curtains, staring at me with a piercing, almost unsettling gaze. Unlike ordinary humans who walked through me without even perceiving my existence, she knew I was real. And she was clearly not happy to see me here.

Snow fell silently around the house, creating an almost peaceful atmosphere. But I didn't feel peaceful at all. Something was off. I was never repelled by a simple house. It required magic, a barrier, something powerful. And this old woman clearly knew exactly what she was doing.

The door creaked open slowly. A slender woman, her posture straight and imposing despite her advanced age, stood at the threshold. Her face was marked by time, but her eyes shone with sharp intelligence. Her gray hair was tied in a tight bun, and she wore a dark wool coat buttoned up to her neck.

I stared back at her, a strange sensation creeping down my spine. This wasn't the first time I had met someone who could see me, but her gaze carried a different authority. I could sense something in her... something unusual that made me uneasy.

I had encountered gods, spirits, warriors, and even aliens, but this woman... she was different.

I quickly composed myself, tightening my grip on my staff before clearing my throat.

"Uh... hi?" I attempted with an uncertain smile.

She didn't respond immediately. Her gaze slowly dropped to the ground, where I had tried to step inside before being violently repelled. Then, she lifted her eyes back to me, and I felt a strange pressure in the air.

"You are not welcome here, spirit."

I raised my hands in a gesture of peace.

"Okay, I don't know what you think you know about me, but I'm not a ghost."

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

"I saw what you left behind."

She gestured to the air around her, and I noticed that the winter breeze surrounding me had lingered longer than it should have. As if my own cold had left a mark on this place.

"Since yesterday, an unusual energy has been clinging to Liam. A trail of frost that hasn't stopped following him."

She placed a hand on the door, as if reinforcing an invisible barrier.

"I sensed the anomaly the moment he returned, so I did what was necessary to protect this house."

I frowned.

"Wait… You think I'm a threat?"

Her gaze hardened.

"I take no risks. You could be a wandering spirit. A poltergeist."

I blinked, stunned.

"A what? You think I'm a poltergeist?"

She didn't answer, but her defensive stance told me she was convinced she was dealing with something potentially dangerous.

I let out an exasperated sigh and crossed my arms.

"Great. Not only do most adults not see me, but when they do, they think I'm some malevolent spirit."

Her expression didn't change. She was waiting for an explanation.

I took a deep breath and planted my staff in the snow.

"Listen, I'm not a poltergeist. I'm Jack Frost."

She raised an eyebrow, but her gaze remained wary.

"A spirit of winter, a Guardian. Not a poltergeist or a wandering soul. I have a defined role, and it's certainly not haunting children."

She didn't respond immediately, but I saw her expression shift slightly.

"And so?"

A realization clicked in my mind.

"You're a medium, aren't you?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"And so?"

"That explains why you can see me."

I took a step forward, motioning toward the house with a nod.

"You saw the frost trail Liam left behind and immediately assumed he was being pursued by a malevolent spirit."

She remained silent.

"And instead of trying to understand what's happening, you put up a barrier against me."

She crossed her arms tightly.

"Spirits are not always trustworthy."

I sighed.

"I just want to understand what's happening with Liam."

I leaned against the invisible barrier, crossing my arms.

"I'm not here to hurt him, quite the opposite. Liam found a source of living nightmares, not me. I want to understand why he sees what no one else can. And most importantly, why these things are here."

The old woman furrowed her brows.

"Living nightmares?"

I nodded.

"You've never heard of Pitch Black, have you?"

She didn't react, confirming my suspicion.

"Pitch Black is the embodiment of fear. He feeds on children's nightmares, amplifying them until they become real. He once plunged the world into an Age of Darkness, and he's starting again. But this time, he's not attacking head-on. He's creeping into the shadows, planting his roots slowly, with patience. And Liam…"

"Liam sees him," she finished slowly.

I nodded.

"He has a gift. Maybe he's more connected to the spirit realm than most humans. Maybe he has a link to fear itself. But what's certain is that he's either attracting these things or being drawn to them. And that means he's in danger."

She said nothing for a long moment. Her eyes drifted into the distance, as if gathering her thoughts. Then, she fixed her gaze on me again with unsettling intensity.

"I trust no spirit. Too often, they promise one thing and do another."

I straightened.

"You don't have to trust me, but believe me when I say Liam needs help. He seems drawn to the seeds Pitch has hidden everywhere. I won't stand by while Pitch Black takes root here."

Her expression hardened.

"Liam is under my protection. I won't let any spirit near him."

I felt frustration rise.

"But why? I mean him no harm!"

She looked at me for a moment, then sighed.

"Leave, Jack. Come back tomorrow. I need to consult my family's records. Liam is far safer here, within the family home."

I stood still for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. This was only a delay. I would get my answers tomorrow.