No Matter The Form

Guardians

——————3rd POV

The Guardians went to bed, not knowing what the morning would bring. Just at dawn was the point that Fera Flame would be strongest. In between the day's heat and the night's darkness. That is when she planned to strike.

Fera stood in the woods, she dawned armour that was blacker than her dreams. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulder, fire burned at her fingers. Nightmares, stronger than ever, a mixture between both fire and darkness stood behind her, ready for battle.

She smiled a cold and sinister smile, knowing victory was within her reach.

A man stood atop the moon, he was a powerful man, trapped in the moon and for eons he had played with the people down below. He infused them with bits of his power and made them play a dangerous game. A game he was all too willing to watch.

Their deaths and defeats did not sadden him, their victories and content did not fill him with joy. He was all too familiar with the ways of the world and yes, he did assist the Guardians, they were his champions, heroes, and chosen victors. But they had gotten old.

This time, the Guardians would face a threat bigger than themselves, more powerful than they were on their own. But that didn't mean they would lose, they weren't on their own.

Fera was a vengeful woman, she cared not for tactics and plans, she missed what made Pitch so close to overthrowing the Guardians. She left the world alone, setting her sights on the Guardians first.

But that is like attacking a concrete table. You have to remove the legs to topple it, but she did not. She thought she could use a powerful force to break it instead.

The man did not know which side would win in this battle, not this time.

If she had removed the legs, they might have toppled. But Pitch showed it was not all that easy. A table taken apart can be put back together, Pitch proved this. Fera wanted to break them, if she hit them with enough forces, they would shatter. They could never be put back togther. But that takes quite a bit of force.

Even the all powerful man of the moon did not know that fate that was to be decided with this battle.

The Guardians laid in their beds, sunrise was on it's way and they were not prepared for the battle that was to come knocking on their door.

Two Guardians however were awake, a factor Fera had so blindy not anticipated, the other was a factor she would have never known of.

The one she was too blind to see, was the Guardian who worked in the night. Toothina was usually the one, but tonight she had slept, worn from the days activities.   It was Sandy who was awake.

He stood atop the workshop, golden sand hovering around him, taking the shapes of animals and people. Creating delicate stories for people to dream of, he sometimes wished for another gift. One that people could remember, his beautiful creations often forgotten by people as they awoke. Leaving only the happiness they created.

That happiness is why he continues on, bringing people wishes to life, dreams that a may never come true may be a reality in the night. He could make a temporary paradise.

He would soon be snatched away from his work however, as people began to wake before dawn and during. An army would also make it's appearance and he would have to leave people wondering what the end of their story may be.

He would have to fight again, fight for the people he creates happiness for. He would accept this job because he was determined to keep his people safe.

The other Guardian that was awake now was Percy Jackson. He had awoken early, a habit he had from his time on quests, constantly traveling to retrieve and save lives. His time in Rome, a tight schedule where he would wake early. His time at camp, waking for breakfast before the other campers could steal it all. His time on the argo where he would wake often to take his shift of watching for monster threats.

Especially his time in Tartarus, barley sleeping at all, monsters constantly trying to kill him and Annabeth.

Annabeth and I.

He thought, sitting, gazing over the empty workshop, wondering what was going on with his world.

The gods could not find him, he disappeared from the underworld. If the gods could no longer find him, than he wondered of the moon. No mythology he thought of told him of any powerful moon that took dead people and made them protectors.

It wasn't as simple as the Kanes then, or Annabeth's cousin in Valhalla. This was different, something new. But it wasn't all that bad, if only he could be with Annabeth though. If what the Guardians say was true, and he suspected it was, then he was an immortal dead guy.

He would never find his way back to Esylem. Back to Annabeth. But he still had hope, if Pitch could die, maybe he could too, just not like a god, like a mortal. Not fade, but die.

The sun peaked over the earth. Barley lighting Fera's army in it's advance.

She stood with her army, ready for battle.

Sandy stood atop the roof, watching his golden dreams. The sun had not yet shown the army that Fera controled. The sky not yet bright enough to cast their shadow across the landscape.

The sun rose higher into the sky, Fera's army stood in the quickly shrinking shadows, almost ready to charge the workshop.

In the workshop, quite a few Yetis woke. As on schedule they began to make toys, readying for Christmas once more. This caught the attention of Percy, who had been overlooking the workshop.

He noticed an empty paint bucket and bfore the Yetis were there, he left to find more. Knowing that they would be in a large shed outside.

He walked through the door and saw Fera's army, which had been revealed by the light. They were now slowly advancing on the workshop, their hooves quiet besides a small cruntch in the snow.

In the lead stood Fera Flame herself, she sat upon a mare, this one unlike the others, more fire than darkness, and her armour was ablaze. It was made of datk coal and burned brightly. She herself was a fiery warrior, a fire going without her needing to support it.

Percy's eyes widened and he looked up sharply, seeing Sandy, who was turned away from the approaching army.

Quickly, Percy climbed to the room and got the attention of the mute dream maker. Sandy sent a message to the Guardians through their dreams.

This would be the final battle.

Word Count: 1150