Secret of Frost and Moon

Gift of Faith

Alaia Skyhawk: For those who are wondering where Jack is in terms of the year, it's explained in this chapter :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians, the Guardians of Childhood, or any related characters etc. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes.

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Chapter 85: Gift of Faith

After she spoke, Jack glanced over his shoulder at his staff. It had been a constant part of his life since he was just fifteen years old, the year he'd at last been trusted to look after the family sheep on his own. Made by and given to him by his father. A gift handed over with great pride to his son, who had cherished it ever since.

Jack bit his lip as he thought about it, uncertain.

"A new weapon? But my staff has always been more than enough, and I can conjure other weapons from frostdust if I want to."

Mother Nature's hand on his shoulder, squeezed it lightly in reassurance.

"If you won't accept one as a requirement, accept one as a gift. I doubt you could create a weapon with your 'frostdust' alone, that will match the one I can make for you. All I will need, is a small piece of your staff."

Jack twitched, immediately reluctant.

"What? But if this ever breaks, I feel it. It hurts like hell."

Mother Nature released her grip, holding out her hand.

"I only need a tiny piece, just a sliver. That staff was once ordinary wood, but has long since become much more. That, I can sense. Just trust me. You won't regret this."

Jack eyed her warily, torn between listening or refusing. But he did, after a moment, relent. He sighed as he lifted his staff from his back, gazed at it hesitantly, and upended it. He then gripped the foot of it, infusing ice through that part while his eyes watered and he gritted his teeth at the pain. Like freeze-thaw in stone or wet wood, his ice created tiny but precise cracks. He then used his fingers to pull the thin shard of wood he'd freed, the size of a toothpick, out of the base of his staff.

He held it up, still wincing from the process.

"That enough?"

Mother Nature took it from his grasp with utmost delicacy, and nodded.

"Yes. Now tell me, were there any weapons you knew how to use well as a mortal?"

Jack blinked, then frowned a little. Mulling it over.

"We had knives, but I never learnt to fight with them. I had a sling, but didn't use it much because the trees around the village got in the way more often than not. Other than that, they only weapon I've used except a stave, was a bow when I helped the village men with the hunting. I went out with them regularly after I turned fourteen."

Mother Nature smiled, laying the shard of his staff across her hands.

"Then a bow you shall have."

She closed her eyes, a soft glow of power surrounding the shard. Before Jack's eyes, it sprouted with lush new growth that twisted and twined about itself like vines. When the wood had grown to a length of two hand-spans, green darkened to brown, bark then thickened and weathered until it looked the same as his staff. When the glow then finally faded, Mother Nature held the unmistakable grip of a bow in her grasp.

She held it out to him wordlessly, watching as he shouldered his staff once more. He then took it in his hands, noting that it frosted over at his touch just like his staff, yet it seemed to do little more. Jack eyed her again, eyebrows raised, but didn't ask what was missing. Instead he trusted instinct, and channelled some of his power into the wood he held.