The first chapter of several to come.
Normally, Jack Frost rode the North Wind. He and the Wind were friends in their own way. It played games with him and was always ready to take him away or take him home.
But Jack had a family of sorts now, and he grew bold.
He tried to ride the South Wind.
South did not like Jack, and the poor boy realized this too late. Half way through dumping snow on San Antonio, it tried to buck him. And then, just north of New Orleans, it tried to drown him.
Of course, South Wind knew nothing of the Winter Spirit's origins, so when he pulled himself desperately to the surface of the lake it sent waves crashing over to tumble the boy below again and again. The spirit couldn't die, but South wanted him to remember; no one rode the South Wind.
When Jack finally pulled himself to the beach the air around him was still as the grave but he was gasping and sobbing, trembling so badly with fear his teeth chattered. His mind struggled to cope with something his heart wasn't ready to repeat. He didn't know where his staff was but he was too afraid to move, let alone to try fly to find it. The memory of his death, hidden from him from so long, was now agonizingly fresh. As though it was all happening again he could feel every cell in his body cry out as it died, he could feel the darkness consuming him.
"North!" he called out in terror, glancing tremulously at the sky, "Tooth! Bunny! Sandy! Please!" He cried for his new friends now in the way he wished he could have that fateful day, hoping against hope they would hear him. "Please!" he choked, "Help me!" But no one came, and tears consumed him until he finally drifted off to fitful sleep.
A/N: Please review. In addition to receiving many bonus Christmas points from me the review lets other people know that the story is worth a look. Thanks!