Jack, not Jackson

Chapter 21: A Story For the Forest.

Jack Frost: POV.

I woke in the clearing before dawn. There was fog swirling in silent patterns through the thick grasses, and mist was reflecting off the sinking moon like fading starlight, unknown to the world.

I didn't move. the stutter in my chest had faded to a dull ache, though it never really went away. For awhile, I just laid and watched the moon fall and the sky lighten. The trees were still whispering, but much gentler now, almost at the edge of hearing.

I didn't hear any words but I had a general feeling that the trees spoke of me and of worry. They had never seen me like that. I hardly ever let anyone see this side of what I am.

No one understood how old I was. And if they did, they certainly wouldn't understanding just how young I was either. I had put up walls for a reason and had no intention of bringing them down now.

Because what I was, was some sort of broken. And now that the forest had seen that, I knew I would have to explain, if I could. What I could, anyway. The forest deserved that much.

I sat up and the forest stilled.
For a moment all was quiet. I sighed, and broke the silence.

"Around 1960 or 61, I was in the middle of the Vietnam war.  The medic in my assigned unit was from Japan.
     He had been helping with a ground breaking study there before he moved to England and enlisted not six months later.
He was the one who told me what was happening. Explained it to me best he could, speaking mostly Japanese. Good thing too.  If anyone else had understood what he said and what it meant I would have had to leave the battle.

takotsubo myopathy he called it. It's better known as brokenheart syndrome now. I've had it since the camp burned."
The Forest seemed to shift restlessly in a gust of wind before I added.

"Don't worry, It can't kill me.
Nothing can. Oh it's tried to kill me sure. Would have gotten me before this all started if the damn gods hadn't cursed me."
I said lightly, laying back down for a bit to watch the moon disappear below the trees.

The Forest spoke slowly so that I could understand. Keeping concepts simple.
"So the warrior (more like Battle Born) is broken?"
I closed my eyes to answer. They seemed heavier then before.
"Yes. The warrior is broken. "
I whispered back in the language of the forest."

I laid there in quiet comfort as the trees spoke softly to me, murmuring gentle nothings like you would to a frightened child. I stayed until the sun was up, then I got up and started the ever longer walk back to the hut to retrieve Himadri.

I had to be at Hogwarts by ten and I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get there. Shapeshifting wasn't the best idea at the moment, so my own two legs would have to suffice.