A/N: This is AU obviously. Sandy, Pitch, and Manny are gods of a sort in this universe. I hoe you enjoy this prologue. I'm posting this on my AO3 and accounts as well. I'll post the links here in a comment when they're up. ^_^


The night was quiet except for the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance as Pitchiner sat by the fire. The stars glittered high above, one specifically. It always amused him how that one star glittered and flickered so. It was almost as if it was trying to get his attention. If it was, it worked.

Every night Pitch saw that flickering star and smiled. It was always there. Always shining. It was the one constant in his life right now. Ever since his daughter had died, he had been lost. He consigned himself to be a Dark Huntsman, forever searching for his daughter. And forever hunting the monster that wiped all traces of his beloved little girl from his life.

It hadn't always been this way. He had once been a living nightmare. The God of Fear and Nightmares. The Nightmare King, scourge of the skies and destroyer of light. His Nightmare Men had served him loyally and his Fearlings had been free to wander the land. And then his wife died leaving behind his daughter, beautiful, innocent Seraphina.

With her birth, most of his bloodlust left him, and he grew complacent and nonaggressive, attacking only when provoked. His underlings had not necessarily enjoyed the situation, but they acknowledged his power and obeyed his wishes.

But there were things older and darker in this world then a fleet of nightmares. And this unknown darkness reared its head one day and took Seraphina from him. In a furious rage, the Nightmare King Pitch Black fought and forced the ancient darkness back, locked into a vault deep within the shadows. But the fight had cost him.

He was now mostly powerless, practically mortal. He was forced to feed on the fear of children and pilfering some of Sanderson's dreamsand to create Nightmares, lovely horses that followed him everywhere. But even they were not enough to relieve his loneliness.

It had been over one hundred years of slowly regaining his power, but he was still weak. And then he found that tiny, flickering ice blue star. At first, it was an annoyance. He never liked stars, they represented dreams and hopes and wishes. But this little star was different. He could swear the darn thing followed him! If he didn't know better, he'd say the star had a crush on him. But it was a star.

A star he'd grown to adore. Especially during his years of solitude. It was always there, giving him hope, restoring his energy, and keeping the ever encroaching claws of darkness from sinking its claws into his heart. He'd come to rely on that tiny star, his little Frost. It shone brighter to him then even the moon.

The moon was full and exceptionally bright tonight, but clouds were moving in from the west. If he was right, then he would wake up to rain shower. That is, if he ever actually fell asleep. Recently, he'd grown accustomed to simply staying up late into the night and staring at that star.

That one star.

He'd even given the flickering light a name. Frost, because of it's gentle blue glow. It reminded him of silver light shining on the cloudy day reflecting off the snow and icicles. He'd always been fond of the cold, however strange that may seem. It reminded him of happier days.

But his reminiscing was distracted by a red glow from the horizon. It rippled and moved like aurora borealis, but had the intensity and threatening edge of a distant, raging fire. Standing to get a better look over the low bushes surrounding him, Pitchiner stared.

The light faded, then burst straight into the sky in a brilliant pillar of red that pierced the heavens. Never in all his years had the huntsman ever seen anything quite like this. Not even remotely like this.

And the silence... There was no sound, no bang, no whooshing of air. Just a long, echoing, ear-shattering silence.

And then it was over. Pitchiner blinked in surprised, hand moving to grasp his sword waiting for some unknown threat to appear. But again, there was nothing. Just silence. Even the owl had fallen silent.

Eventually, the huntsman relaxed his stance. If something was going to attack, it would have done so already. But his senses still tingled. That phenomenon could not be natural. And this silence grated against his ears. It was so loud.

He sat back down and tended the fire, taking care not to knock the water filled pan sitting precariously close to the fire pit into the flames. It was only after he grew comfortable once more that he raised his eyes to the heavens again.

The star was gone.

Instantly, his heart stuttered to a stop and his eyes scoured the heavens for his little, flickering Frost. But to no avail. The tiny star was gone. Only a vast, empty blackness filled the place it had once filled.

At that moment, it felt like his world, which had been previously held together by haphazardly sewn stitches, finally tore apart and shattered. His star, his north star, his little flickering star, his Frost...was gone.

He was truly alone.

A/N: I hope this was satisfactory. ^^;