Good God, I'm so so so sososososososososososo Sorry! I had no idea that this would be so hard to write, but it was. Please forgive me for not posting sooner!

Seraphina watches as her father stands in what's left of Darcy's room.

Borea had sent a message on a passing breeze about what's happened; Jack was currently looking for her in the best places that he could think of, and she had joined him.

Before she'd traded herself for Jamie, Darcy had had some sort of fit (or perhaps a fight? She wondered aloud, looking at the destruction with some surprise; despite the 'confrontation' in the kitchen, she'd have never thought that the broken girl being possessed by such an ancient being could be capable of something like this); the bed, mattress and blankets and pillows, are ripped apart, springs and stuffing scattered on the floor. Claw marks are torn into the walls, dug in deep (it must have been her Magic, Darcy doesn't have nails long enough for that). The balcony's spell is gone, the doors broken out, and snow is pouring in, the wind moaning sadly (she'd sent all the winds to search for Darcy, because, even if she didn't like her, Seraphina knew that she was important to her father), snow and ice coat almost everything, but shining through the whiteness are frozen crimson, seemingly from the mirror that had been broken, the pieces shattered and glinting up that them from the floor, like some sort of kaleidoscope.

Pitch is staring at the only thing left in the room that is still whole; the golden book.

Seraphina, frankly, is clueless as to what to do; everything in Pitch just looks…broken, somehow, like everything in the world has just rested itself on his shoulders. His eyes look like dying embers, and she'd never felt more sympathetic then right now.

The child in her just wants to walk up to her father and wrap her arms around him, but she can't do that anymore. Her pride won't let her, and besides that, there is an inherent fear of him at this moment, because she's never seen him in such a state, even when she was a child.

Back then, in the days of light, there would be a day when Kozmotis Pitchiner would lock himself away in his study, and Seraphina would be asked by their house keeper to be an especially good little girl, that day, and to leave her Papa alone and be quiet. Seraphina would play outside, or read, or do her lessons until Papa would emerge from his study and they would spend the rest of the evening together, Papa telling her about the mother that she'd never known, or missed.

To Seraphina, Pitch has always been a pillar of strength; even at his lowest, he would find a way to come back, and even though she's been forced to barricade her heart from feeling anything for him, she's respected the part of him that is a survivor.

Now there is nothing left of that in him.

Part of her wants to be disgusted, but she just can't be, not at him.

"Hello, Seraphina." He greets quietly, and she steps closer into the room.

"I see that Darcy left a mark." She stated bluntly. He smiled thinly, but it was a ghost of a true smile, even for him.

"Yes, that's a remarkable gift of hers."

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"No. Why are you here, instead of searching for her? Or organizing an attack? Or anything? Why are you sulking?" If the words came out angry, it was an accident; Seraphina was going by instinct, doing what she could think of to get him moving.

"The Time Palace was deserted. He'd cleared out almost immediately after I escaped. Ombric is lost to the wind, and Darcy with him." Pitch mumbles, and Seraphina grits her teeth.

"If you'd get moving then she'd be found."

"Pardon?"

"Honestly, do you know nothing about Mates?" Seraphina bites, this time even she can hear the sarcasm in her voice. "The moment I got here I could feel Darcy's Magic on you; she's tied herself to you, her Magic is entwined with yours now. You've consecrated the Bond, yes?" She tries to disassociate herself from exactly what that means, but she can see the ghost of a blush on Pitch's face.

"…yes…" Pitch admits quietly.

"And you know nothing about what I mean?" He shakes his head. "Honestly. You know that when two Mates become one, their Magic is exchanged, to ground it, right?"

"Yes, North explained it to me."

Seraphina groans in frustration.

"Let's go." She throws caution to the wind and pulls Pitch behind her, leaving the room in long strides. She braces herself for any sort of hostility, but a look at her father's face makes it clear all that he feels is confusion.

"What are we doing, Sera?"

"We have a way to get to your mortal, Papa."

(Line)

The little girl's room has evolved, now containing a roaring fireplace with a soft rug before it, where she is lying on her stomach, legs kicking back and forth softly as she reads the large book of Fairy Tales that it has provided for her.

There are so many interesting books here, she's found; books on people's minds, on plants, on animals; every subject imaginable. She's read through nearly all of them, taking great joy in it, giggling at the funny stories and gasping in surprise at others. Only one bookshelf is left untouched, and she has the strangest aversion to it.

The books there are prettier than the others, bound in what looked like silk and gold. There are no titles, and the shelves themselves are even more beautiful than the others as well, a wood so strange that it doesn't look like the material, and there are glass doors to open, to protect them.

The girl is curious, but when she steps up to the shelves, there is a sense of dread and fear. Her body feels too heavy and all that she wants to do is run away. So she stays away from it.

But she doesn't think about that, instead she's entranced with the picture of the Beast in Beauty & the Beast, and she's staring at it with a cocked head.

The Beast isn't a monster, not at all, in fact, he looks almost human, save for those sharp teeth, and the intense eyes that seem to read you from the page; the Beast is tall and lithe, seeming to step out of the shadows.

"He sure doesn't look like a Beast…" She mumbles to herself as she turns the thick page to read on.

At the end of the story is a picture of the Beast and the Beauty, and she's even more fascinated by it than the last portrait.

"They look so happy." She whispers in awe at the strange looking duo that seems so…complete, holding each other.

The girl stands up and puts the book away, neatly sliding it into the empty place on the shelf.

She's deep in thought, contemplating, for the first time, consciously, her existence.

The giant mirror had melded into the wall sometime ago, and now, curious, she approached it to study herself, tentatively raising her hands and prodding at her face, making expressions and observing the reflection. Cautiously, she touched the missing piece of her chest, only to withdraw quickly, shuddering. The feeling that she got was icky. It was like reaching into the dark and finding something you weren't expecting; you're hyper sensitive and whatever you touch feels like something else.

Except it was almost like reaching into the dark for something you know is there…only it isn't anymore.

She stares at herself in the mirror.

"Who am I?"

A feeling struck her and she looks around, nervously. "I'm not allowed to ask that?" She whispers in surprise; the firelight flickers, and she ducks her head, hearing harsh words and feeling ashamed.

She has all that she needs here in this room, why should she ask for more? Whatever she wants, or even thinks about, the room will create it, so be happy and Don't Ask Questions.

The little girl feels sick all of a sudden, ashamed of being so ungrateful.

But…

Why?

A seed has been planted, and she returns to the stories of Magic, contemplating exactly why she feels so strange, she thinks about why she's here, what this room is, and why she Can't Ask Questions.

Moreover, she wonders about her identity, and closes her eyes tightly, trying to remember what came before the room, only to flinch at the sudden pain in her head, like she's been struck.

Deep in her subconscious, a thought is beginning to bloom, slowly, in the darkness that is her missing piece.

(Line)

"Are you sure that it's this way?" Jack asks Borea, who is no longer entirely corporeal (what little color she had has faded to almost nonexistence, and her limbs, hair and torso have expanded as she carries him so that he can search).

"I feel it." She answers simply, the voice that he'd instantly recognized at the party; after all, it'd been the only voice that spoke to him specifically for more than 300 years, and he'd spoken back. The funny thing was that he'd never actually registered that the Wind, his only friend for so long, was female.

"What do you feel, specifically?" He asks; they were somewhere over Greenland, so high up, and going higher, that the lights of the city below looked like tiny pinpricks.

"A rift; there is a portal here, the magic is disturbing…I suspect that Ombric is hidden there." Borea explains; Jack likes her voice no matter what form she has, but when it's like this, it seems to echo and wrap around him.

"What about Darcy? Can you feel here?"

"No. Earth and Air Magics are entirely different, and besides that, Ombric's found a way to cloak her powers; our best bet is to go after him and hope that he hasn't spirited her off somewhere." Borea explains to him, and Jack nods, and they continue their journey, and Borea reflects on the small ice imp in her arms.

Borea is one of the most brutal wind spirits in existence, she is the first to admit this, and she does it without hesitation. She does not like to be tamed, held down, or being forced into servitude. Naturally, when Seraphina told her that she would be tied down with the newly risen Jack Frost, she was angry, and it reflected in his first few flights; she would drop him to the ground (or nearest tree) from 10 feet or higher, and let the gnawing cold and ice hit him as they traveled at top speeds (she was aware that the cold couldn't hurt him, but it made her feel better nonetheless). She would try to rip the shepherd's crook from his grip, and many other unpleasant things.

But after seeing Jack ignored for more than two weeks, and the way his very soul seemed to hurt from the silence, she began to relent, and spoke to him in a whisper. Just a whisper. But the smile that seemed to warm the blue-toned skin and made his eyes gleam…Borea couldn't help herself, and she found herself becoming attached to Jack. With every passing decade, she held him more tightly as they flew, until she wondered at times where she ended and he began, and marveled at the cheerful mask with which he hid his loneliness.

"Whoa…" Jack says in surprise, and Borea knows that they've arrived at the new Time Palace.

Ombric's new lair, and even Borea is stunned into silence.

The palace looks like a fortress like that of the dark ages, impenetrable and forbidding, certainly when compared to the open looking castle that he'd formerly been residing in; the only windows are thin and long, only able to see out and not in, and resistant to most attacks, only one door, and plenty of spires and towers; Borea is sure that the old bastard has a magic eye on them now, maybe some sort of trap that was set off when a magical being got too near.

"It's huge, Borea." Jack whispers in awe.

"Yes. What do you wish to do?" Borea asks, letting Jack think it over.

"What else, we go in."

"That doesn't seem very wise, Jack." Borea warns, trying to dispel the idea.

"Maybe not, but why call the rest of them when we aren't sure that he's holding her here? We'll investigate real quick and then head back for a report when we're finished."

Unless we're caught. Borea thinks to herself, but listens to her…boyfriend. She smiles a bit at the thought, but the truth is that they haven't really decided on a course of action regarding their relationship, and had decided to take action once Darcy was recovered or Ombric taken care of, whichever came first.

The drifted closer to the castle, looking for some way in, before discovering a weak point in the stone structure; Jack easily froze the material holding it together, and broke the stones out, the two of them slipping into the fortress as silently as the wind (the irony was not lost on Borea).

Although Jack was as light of foot as any forest animal, Borea didn't release her grip on him; in the need of a quick getaway, it wouldn't do not to be able to fly, and having to waste precious time transforming to her human form could be dangerous, and so she stays the way she is.

Jack's body is taught with nervous energy, and his very body language is that of prey in the predator's territory; his pupils are blown wide, he sniffs the air, trying to discern danger, his ears are catching every sound that can be caught. Although his memories are gone, Jack was first born a human in a hostile environment; his breed were concerned with survival, and expecting the unexpected, and right now, that is what he is ready for. Without meaning to, his body is relying on muscle memory from a previous life to keep him and Borea alive. His mind is ticking in overdrive, every corridor, corner and stairway imprinted in his memory, and assessing any possible escape routes, creating a map in his mind.

It's amazing that, although they are in the Time Fortress, that time seems to be relative here. Their internal clocks, such as they are, are thrown off, and neither Jack nor Borea are able to ascertain exactly how long they're searching for any sign of Darcy or Ombric (Jack counts 56 stairways, 18 corridors and 134 corners), before he hears an eerily cheerful voice talking to itself.

Jack tightens his grip on his staff and continues towards the sound, sure that he can feel a heartbeat pounding wildly, before peeking around a corner and nearly falling down in shock.

Darcy's skin is chalk white, almost to the point of neon, her eyes darkened with a heavy amount of eyeliner, lips painted blood red. Her hair is in perfect ringlets, remarkably controlled. For a moment, he's sure that she's seen him, but then he realizes, that there is no recognition in those eyes, and, after another moment, he realizes that those eyes are empty. The glow that was in them, the color, the life, is all gone, instead leaving nothing more than a color that seems flat and two dimensional, absorbing the light, but not reflecting it.

Darcy's back is perfectly straight, her expression perfectly formless, hands folded neatly in her lap amidst the flounces of black lace that adorn the black Lolita gown that Ombric has dressed her in.

"…my, this doll like expression certainly becomes you, doesn't it, Darcy? But we must be ready for when the Guardians arrive." Ombric chuckles and pets her hair gently. "Yes, they'll come, pet, but they won't succeed in retrieving you, or stopping me." Darcy's eyes don't even flicker. "Don't worry, though, Darcy, I'll make sure that it's painless for them."

Jack stifled any sound he wanted to make, instead backing up until he's back around the corner, and then taking off to leave the way he came.

Jack and Borea flew as fast as they could in such a confined space, retracing their steps, until-

"JACK BEHIND US!" Jack glances behind them, and nearly shrieks.

North has told them of the Tick-Tock Creatures that Ombric has under his control; the brass work and spider automatons that are a combination of his powers as Lord of Time and his magic as an Atlantean Mage, they serve and are loyal to only Ombric, and, thanks to the poison in the various blades hidden throughout their bodies, they're deadly.

The Creatures snarl in a tinny voice and before he can react, they are upon him, and Jack can only scream out a warning to Borea before he is wrenched from her arms, and swarmed by the copper looking monstrosities. Borea screams, but doesn't stop-what good what it do to Jack?-she flees, but is unable to stop a wail that is heard on the ground miles below.

"I'll bring them, Jack!" She shouts behind her, and then Borea is nothing but an invisible spirit again, sorely determined to turn around and fight for him. But the cold anger of her nature reminds her that being caught by Ombric will solve nothing.

She flies as fast as she can back to Santoff Klaussen, swearing vengeance for him, and for everyone that Ombric his pained.

(Line)

"Why is this important?" Pitch demands, slightly embarrassed at Seraphina's revelation to the Guardians (no not all of them, where is Frost?).

"Honestly-Papa, when an Atlantian Mage…consummates with their mate, they share their power; not only has she taken your power into herself," everyone looks faintly shy about the situation, so no one-not even Aster-makes a comment about the accidental innuendos, leaving Sera to continue her mortifying explanation, "you've taken in some of her power; it's not common that Darkness and Earth Magic are present in two beings-it should be relatively easy to find her by tracing Magic." This is met with a heavy sigh from North.

"We thought of this, Seraphina- Ombric has managed to hide the signatures."

"Yes, I've thought of that-" Sera interrupts impatiently; she begins pacing the room, and Pitch notices the way that flowers and vines and leaves are beginning to sprout from various parts of the room. "Listen-Papa is connected to Darcy in a way that is unheard of to us-they share their Magic now and that Magic gives them access to one another's emotions, thoughts and locations!"

Just like that, it's a flurry of activity, mainly from Pitch, whose Darkness expands to encompass the room.

"How?! How may I find her, Seraphina!"

"Papa-you need to sense her; feel out the bond between you and trust your Magic." Seraphina struggles to explain: this is something that she's never done, so she can't explain it.

Pitch takes a breath-

Then Sera's eyes widen and her mouth opens in a silent scream.

She collapses to her knees with a wail-

"They've taken him!" She whispers, Tooth and Aster rush forward, but Pitch is already at her side, cradling her head in his lap, stroking her hair comfortingly-like the father that he should have been.

"What? Who?"

"Ombric-taken Jack-Borea's panicked! Over Greenland-but there's a portal-hurry! We must go!" Seraphina looks at Pitch; "Papa, we can get there using the shadows faster than the others."

"What about sleigh?" North questions, Seraphina shakes her head, "the globes won't work fast enough; even Aster's tunnels may take too long. You use the globes, we'll go by shadow; Borea is waiting to guide you." Seraphina accepts Pitch's help getting up, but it's clear that she doesn't need it.

Sera looks up at him, and he nods, before they sink into the shadows.

(Line) Mo Ghile Mear

Pitch has never traveled through the shadows so quickly, and he doubts he'll do so ever again; they're going so fast he feels the burn on his exposed skin, and he finds himself holding Seraphina in a way that she won't feel it.

Faced with imminent death, he finds himself saying quietly, and as delicately as he can.

"I'm sorry for everything, Sera." Her eclipse Eyes blink owlishly up at him and she shakes her head.

"No, I…I was wrong to have hated you for so long. You had standards to live up to, you couldn't turn down your mission." She smiles up at him and he shakes his head, leans down and presses a kiss to the end of her nose, like she was still small.

"I did have standards, but none were more important than being a good father, and in that I failed. I left you alone and I ruined your world. I apologize for all the pain that I've caused you, it was far from my intention."

Seraphina knows how hard this is for him, and she nods, satisfied; she knows he'd never want to hurt her, not while he has memories (even in battle, when he didn't remember her, he had been hesitant to harm her). Just the fact that he's acknowledging this makes her feel…better, somehow. Although she knows that this means he doesn't expect to come out of this unscathed…she refuses to think (he doesn't think he'll live).

"I forgive you Papa," she says, because that's what he needs to hear right now, more than anything.

The smile he gives her breaks here heart, but she smiles back; nothing about their past matters right now, other than their forgiveness, and their acceptance.

"We're here," Pitch announces, just as they are pushed, gently, out of the shadows.

The Hall of Time is far different; it's less welcoming, and that much more sinister; the clocks seem to tick with malicious intent, and the very air is charged with evil. At least, that's Pitch's impression; for all he knows it could just be his psyche playing tricks on him; absently, he summons his scythe.

"It's too quiet," he notes, and she finds herself agreeing.

"Papa, you know that wherever he has Jack, he's bound to have Darcy near?"

"Yes, I know." He furrows his brows in sudden thought, and looks at Sera. "Can you feel Frost out?"

"No…yes! Yes, I could, but…here, my senses are dulled." He makes an angry noise, and they begin to walk through the main hall.

"OMBRIC! Come out and fight you old coward!" Seraphina calls, and Pitch is amused when several clocks explode.

"So you two are on good terms again?" Ombric mocks, or, his voice does.

Pitch steps closer to his daughter, eyes darting around for the threat, but Ombric was nowhere to be seen at present.

"Our personal affairs are none of your business, Ombric! Where are they?" Pitch demands, but he's careful to keep his voice calm.

"Who? Oh, the Frost child? He's fine, a bit occupied, but unharmed."

"And Darcy?" Seraphina ventures, Ombric chuckles.

"What does it matter to you two?"

"Jack is mine; he is a spirit of nature and under my charge!"

Ombric seemed to ponder this new fact, "that may be true, but Darcy traded herself in exchange for Jamie. She belongs to me, all of her." He enters the hall surrounded by his TikTok creatures, and in one hand he carries a glowing orb.

Sera takes one look at it and looks ready to be ill, and Pitch is stunned; any spirit would know a magical core on sight, even if they didn't know to whom it belonged, but from the way that his own Magic seemed to cry out and reach towards it, Pitch knows that it belongs to Darcy.

Ombric smiles nastily, knowing the reaction that Pitch must be having to his mate's magical core, oh it's so delicious; the absolute rage and helplessness on his roman face! He snickers again, banishing the orb away with a flick of his fingers.

Darling Darcy is stowed away where they won't find her, her mind anyway, and dear Jack is unconscious and bloody.

(Line)

She's bored.

The girl paces the room, unable to explain the sudden restlessness that stirs her blood and makes her antsy.

Something is creeping into the safe sanctuary where she is hidden away, and she's afraid…

No…

This feeling, she feels empty…

Her hands fly to the missing spot in her chest, and she ignores the shudder that goes through her.

Something is wrong!

Panic erupts and she's torn, she wants to stay away from this, this trouble that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but another part of her calls her to action, to fight.

"Fight what? What am I supposed to fight?" She asks aloud; she's confused, she's afraid.

But she doesn't want to run.

(Line)

Fight?...what…?

Pitch hears the echo in his head, and he knows immediately that it's Darcy. He knows the glow that her energy leaves behind, like a trail.

"You've got her mind hidden." Pitch says, and Ombric looks as if he's been slapped; he's right, he knows it.

The TikTok creatures rush at them, but the flood of nightmare sand that materializes and floods the hall is enough to crush them, and Ombric flinches at the forms of NightMares that rise from the sands.

"Tell me where she is, Ombric!"

Ombric bares his teeth in a tight smile, before turning to look behind him.

"Darcy, pet, come here."