"Once upon a time, the oldest of times, a time before legends, when the earth had not yet begun its wild revolutions around the great star but moved slowly as if still discovering its purpose...Once upon this time, there was only north and south.

In the north, there was only winter, and in the south, only summer. In the north, even the brightest days were as twilight, while in the south, the midnight moon shared the sky with the sun. The myriad cities of this bright summer hemisphere answered to countless kings, but the north...the north knew only one: a fierce warrior they called The Winter Lord.

The north had seen its share of princes and kings, but all were destroyed, all were crushed beneath the icy blades of the Winter Lord's chariot. No one knew whence came the warrior in the long white cloak with his hair as black as night, nor was it known when his rise to power begun, yet every man, every woman and child understood that with the thundering of his war elk's ironclad hooves came destruction...despair, and death most terrible. Some questioned if his men were at all and not demons freed from the spits of hell.

The Winter Lord's council consisted of only one: a witch woman by the name of Hecate. in the throne room of the Winter Lord's tower, Hecate sat beside him whispering secrets behind long white fingers. She lurked in the corners of his banquet hall, a white shadow who saw all. And when the Winter Lord went away to battle, Hecate could be seen at the topmost window of the keep, muttering strange incantations as the wind screamed through her silver hair. What council did the witch give the great warrior that made her so valuable?

What could one woman's verses mean to the man who ruled atop the world? Everything, in fact, for though the Winter Lord possessed strength and battle courage, no man could predict the outcome of the field. But Hecate could. The enemy might hide his hands, but Hecate could count the rings on every finger all the same. And Hecate could break those fingers from a hundred miles away.

Her magic-as magic does-came with a price. This price was often cruel to pay. The greater the magic, she would say, the greater the cost. "Bring me the head of your favorite elk," she might command, "and you will crush your enemy before the sun rises." The Winter Lord would do as she asked. "Grind your most precious jewels into dust, and there can be no doubt of your victory," She would say, and the Winter Lord would do as she instructed. The sacrifices required of him often gave the Winter Lord cause to hesitate, but for every sacrifice he had made, he had been repaid ten times over.

When he remembered this, he would bring Hecate whatever she requested, and thus his rule over the north was secured. And once he had acquired the north, he set his sights upon the south. But victory did not come so easily in the summerlands. He did not understand the terrain. His soldiers were not prepared for the heat, and the sun blinded them. He claimed many cities to be sure, but for all his power, he could not hold them. Soon, he was driven back to his frozen fortress humiliated and enraged.

"You have handed me many victories in battles past and all the north is mine," he said to Hecate, "But still I have not won the south." he fumed. "No, you have not," agreed Hecate. "you know how it can be done," seethed the Winter Lord, "and yet you have not told me. Why?"

"Indeed, it can be done," Said Hecate, "And no, I have not shared the way with you. Because-as with all things-such a way does not come freely. And this time the price is surely more than you can pay." That angered the Winter Lord, "How dare you presume!" shouted the Winter Lord. "Name this price or die where you stand!" 

"very well," Said the witch, and with a smile she continued. "Find eight children pure of heart. Their innocence must be certain. And while they still live, cut out their hearts. Then bring their hearts to me along with their bones, and stain your cloak with their blood."

The Winter Lord fell silent at once.

He had no special love for children, but such a sacrifice would surely anger the gods whose punishments were swift and severe. Until now, he had believed that Hecate's gift came from the gods themselves, but murdering innocents did not align with what he knew of even the north's blood thirstiest divinities.

Said the witch Hecate, "With their hearts, I can give you unstoppable force. No mountain will impede you, my Lord. No army will slow your progress. You will become a legend."

"And with their blood and bones?" asked the Winter Lord. "With their blood," said Hecate, "I can give you eternal life, and their bones will rise to carry your chariot from battle to battle, traveling through the air with the speed of Hell's winds."

The Winter Lord thought on this many days, seeing no one and speaking not a word. By the thirteen day, he had reached no conclusion and so decided to seek the wisdom of another. There was a priest, a wise man called Jonathan who lived in a mountain monastery known as The Frost. This priest was said to know all things concerning the gods.

If there was any man who could offer true wisdom to the Winter Lord, it was surely Jonathan of the Frost. That day, the Winter Lord set out alone in search of truth. but no sooner had he left his fortress when a new thought crept into his mind.

For every sacrifice he had made he had been repaid ten times over. Surely, he thought, it must follow that the mothers and fathers of the good children he must claim would bear many more children and then forget their grief. "They will say it was the will of the gods," the Winter Lord told himself, "and perhaps they will even praise me."

This was how the Winter Lord convinced himself to pay the witch's price. He turned back at once, and thus his fate was sealed. It was no simple matter to find eight truly innocent children-children without insolence or deceit. Good, loving children who knew neither spite nor selfishness.

But when the Winter Lord did find them, he ordered them slaughtered in the way the witch had instructed, and he pillaged and burned the homes of their families. "Fear not," he told the grieving, "for the gods will repay you."

When it was over, the children's bones were gathered into chests. Their blood was splashed over the Winter Lord's white cloak, staining it a deep, dark crimson red. Their hearts he collected himself and placed into a sack which he carried over his shoulder, his own heart void of any remorse.

"You've done well," said the witch Hecate upon the Winter Lord's return. "See how your destiny is written upon the stars." Before the Winter Lord's very eyes, Hecate's magic made her promise truth. He saw the children's bones rise up and reassemble onto all fours like his own elk, taking the animal's skeleton shape, the green flames of the underworld emanating from their empty eyes.

He sensed strange new blood coursing through his veins from his bolstered heart. He felt his own invincibility embrace him from the fibers of his bloodstained cloak. "Now go," said Hecate, "and take what is yours."

And this the Winter Lord did.

He conquered the south as swiftly as he had taken the north. He flew around the world with all the speed of lightning, taking what he wished almost single-handedly. In very little time, all the world one cared to rule belonged to the Winter Lord.

"I am a legend now," he said to himself, "and I will be legendary forever."

All his desires achieved, the Winter Lord had naught to do now but revel in his victories and, at long last, to sleep. But sleep would not come, for that very night, a visitor hid in the Winter Lord's bedchamber, announced only be the odor of decay and a chill no fire could overcome.

"Who trespasses here?" the Winter Lord demanded from his bed. "A thief? An assassin? Coward, show your face!" No assassin lurked in the shadows. No thief watched from the dark. It was only a boy who emerged. A little boy surely no older than six years. His face was as white as death.

Blood ran from a great hole where his nose should have been, where a battle axe had all but cloven his head in two. the Winter Lord reached for his sword but it wilted in his hand like a weed.

"You took our hearts!" said the boy in a small and lonely voice. "You bewitched our bones! You wear our blood upon your cloak!"

"What is this?" snarled the Winter Lord. "Is this some trick? Who is responsible? I'll have his head!" But the boy only repeated those cursed words. "You took our hearts! You bewitched our bones! You wear our blood upon your cloak!"

"Be gone! Be gone, I command you!" the Winter Lord ordered. And yet the boy drew even nearer, gliding across the stone floor without moving a foot. For the first time in his life, the Winter Lord knew fear, and he was paralyzed with it.

"You took our hearts! You bewitched our bones!" said the boy, his hands reaching out to the Winter Lord in a plea for which there could be no answer. "You wear our blood upon your cloak!" The Winter Lord must have fainted, for in a blink it was morning, and he was blessedly alone.

But his relief was quickly replaced with rage. At once he summoned Hecate, demanding the meaning of this spectral visitation. "Forgive me, my Lord," said the witch, "but I have no power over the spirit world. Only that which carried their souls. I can no more dispatch this spirit than I could have summoned it...But I can prepare a sleeping draught for you. Drink it every night, and this wraith will disturb you no more."

The Winter Lord downed the draught that very evening and waited for the rest that was denied him the night before. But if it came, it provided no barrier against the spirit of the dead boy. Again the child appeared, and again it spoke those wretched words. "You took our hearts! You bewitched our bones! You wear our blood upon your cloak!"

The Winter Lord pleaded with the ghost, but just as before, the ghost would not be ordered away. This time the Winter Lord summoned Hecate immediately, but the witch could not be found. She had fled. To where, no one knew. The Winter Lord's anger burned hot, cooled only by his helplessness. If ever he found the witch, he vowed, she would learn the meaning of suffering.

The warrior Lord sought the help of other witches and wizards, but all fail him. And so the ghostly appearances continued. At first only in the night, and then in the day as well. It mattered not if the Winter Lord was alone or in company, the boy was always there.

Only the Winter Lord saw the dead child, and he saw him everywhere- so pale, so small, blood perpetually streaming from the cavern in his face, sad eyes accusing. In search of distraction, the Winter Lord kept himself surrounded always by people. He held grand feasts everyday and every night. All the witches and wizards of the world could not relieve him of this insanity now.

But there was one man he had not yet visited, a man whose wisdom he nearly heard before madness and the fear began. Before he turned back, and the darkness invaded his already shadowed heart. "I must see Jonathan of the frost," said the Winter Lord, "And this time, I can not falter."

The sun had not risen when the Winter Lord rode his one living elk to the mountain monastery. He told no one he was leaving nor where he was going, He rode alone. When he reached the Frost, the man was already waiting for him. "Malik," he said, calling the Winter Lord by his true name, and at once, the Winter Lord fell to his knees. "You have committed a great sin, Malik," Said Jonathan of the Frost. "Yes, wise one," said the Winter Lord, "and I seek forgiveness. I wish to put the children's souls at rest. They torment me so. My wine tastes of blood, my food of ashes, every song I hear is drowned out by their voices reminding me of what I can not change."

"And what would you be willing to do to end this torment?" asked Jonathan. "I would give up all that I have," said the Winter Lord. "I would give up this undying life and live out my remaining days in humility and poverty. And I would be grateful. What need have I for power and wealth now? I am sick with it. I am disease in ermine robes." The Winter Lord had meant his words, and when he looked up Jonathan had hope. "I shall tell you who to see, She can have these children put to rest but in time." Jonathan said, as the Winter Lord rose up. "Who?" He asked desperately.

"A demon-fairy, she can help. She lives in the forest, you might stumble upon her or it may take time. But be careful she like to play mind games, now go." explained Jonathan, as the Winter Lord did, he wondered through the forest for some time as the sun was beginning to set. The boy soon returned to bother the Winter Lord once again, as he set his path back to the kingdom and will continue his search tomorrow for the Demon.

"How can I get rid of this spector?" the Winter Lord had muttered to himself, he stopped and ran a hand threw his hair trying to ease the tension. "You can't." a voice said on the wind, as the Winter Lord looked for the source.

"Who is there?" The Winter Lord said as his voice nearly faulted, "I am." The voice said with humor in the what would be a feminine one. "No games, what do you know." The Winter Lord said sounding almost desperate, for which he was.

"The boy, he is the symboliquement of guilt, the one of which you have for killing the innocent ones...I can see it in your eyes, you knew of better times in this land till a new king made it difficult, you decided to take the rein and send this land back to better times, for a better future, did you not? You then were caught in the thrill of things, the lust for battle and war, deciding to take the south." She said with no emotion in the words. "I can see you were doing it for the right reason till you were led astray, now it is haunting you is it not? He will be there till you put him to rest."

"How?" The Winter Lord asked, "Please tell me how." He Pleaded for the answer. "You have to make sure to do the right thing from now on like you wanted to those years ago, your friend the witch Hecate had left to find the same answer you seek. She did because you two are friends, no? You have friends around you that you do not notice, do not deny them your attention, friends are loyal and help each other." the Winter Lord shook his head, "We are getting off track."

"Are we? The only way to carry the guilt of the past and put the boy to rest is to know three things: one, what has been done can't change, and do not wish for it to do so. Everything happens for a reason, like a storm there is beauty after it. Two, know what you did wrong and prevent it from happening again, let the boy be that reminder. Three, learn from it." The Winter Lord was confused, "Learn from what exactly?" 

"Learn not why, nor how, learn that not only is it wrong, but also that you may help others who would do such a thing. wisdom is not granted unless you have learned from these mistakes. On the day you have slaughtered the children I shall help you, we, shall help you build a shrine, a tribute to them for such a sacrifice you had burdened the children with. But until then, take care, I shall send Hecate news and have her return back to the kingdom, and please, try and socialize with people. Hear their needs, and try and help them, this will please the boy as to not bother you so much. Get to know your people, and those loyal to you." The wind had then changed direction, as the Winter Lord then wanted one more answer.

"Wait!" the Winter Lord shouted as the wind itself froze and then peacefully let the snow fall again. "Just why are you helping me?" The Winter Lord asked, curious of who is helping him with such a task. "I'm merely just someone who likes to help those who are lost...I was once lost long ago, and had to find the way again on my own. It was a difficult task for one person...that is why I know a burden can not be carried on one shoulder alone. I help those who need it, that is why I'm helping you."

The Winter Lord was about to say something before the voice continued, "Yes, I am the Demon-fairy that Jonathan had spoke of, My name is Marceline, just come out to the forest and call my name if you may need me again. Good Luck." and with that the wind picked up again. "Marceline." the Winter Lord whispered to himself seeing how the name rolled of his tongue like water. The Winter Lord had done what she asked of him from then on there. 

The Winter Lord had helped many of his people both from the north and south, in doing so he had not heard the boy speak and had seen less of the boy as well, for the boy could only be seen at a distance away from the Lord. The Winter Lord had began to talk with his people and had heard greatness slip from his knight's mouth's when in the mead hall talking to one another. Soon Hecate was once more seen in the kingdom wishing to the Lord for forgiveness in which he gave knowing of what she went to do for him, gave Hecate to be his advisor for which she accepted greatly. After a month had passed, and the Lord was somewhat missing the girl from the forest.

The Winter Lord had set out to call her forth from the white bare trees of the forest. "Marceline!" He called out, as the wind died down to a peaceful drift. "Yes?" the Winter Lord heard soothing his worries, "What need of me?" She asked, the Winter Lord wished to lie yet he somehow couldn't, not to her. He never once thought of why he called her but to chat he believed. Marceline must have known of the Winter Lord's quiet pause and spoke happily, "What did you do for your people to set them in such a cheer?" 

"I did what you had instructed, to help them as such." the Winter Lord glad to have her speak so that he wouldn't have to lie. "And of the boy?" She then asked, "Quiet and distant." the Winter Lord said simply as to wish to get off the topic. "Sad. A child shouldn't be that way." She spoke, "He should, his words were dipped with insanity." the Winter Lord growled. "Then you haven't grasped what he was saying then, did you?"

"What to grasp, but the obvious?" the Winter Lord said taking a seat upon a lone rock, "He was, yet he wanted to know why? So enlighten me, why did you do it? afraid of death? your enemies, of time? or do you not know?" She spoke, in truth he did not. "You were just in the middle of things true?" she said after the silence drew long when the Winter Lord wished to have an answer for her. 

The Lord just nodded in shame of his actions. "Just a few months till we set the children at rest, until then, I bid thee ado." she said as the wind picked up, leaving the Winter Lord to know that she had left. The Winter Lord was somehow always enchanted by the words spoken of the demon, and how some of there chats fly off topic most times. The Winter Lord would go out to the forest around sun down every day and speak with the demon, as she told him she would tell him what day to put the children to rest and so months passed, until she told the Winter Lord the news.

"In four weeks time, those children will be finally put to rest. There will be a list of things that will be needed to be done," She spoke, as the Winter Lord sat on the rock he had been accustom to over their talks each day. The Winter Lord nodded for her to continue.

"Firstly, there will be a place in the center of the city for the children, a tribute for them, a stone pumpkin hollowed out with a large candle and carved out face, And a small tomb slab for them to carve their names in to be remembered. Secondly, other Pumpkins will be needed, carved in face designs and patterns. Every person will have one done, and left by there door step. Thirdly, Candles will be placed in every Pumpkin for there pattern and design will shine, as well as placed around the kingdom to light the paths and streets. Fourthly, everyone will need a costume, of anything from knights armor to pelts, all will need a mask to hid their face. Finally, there shall be a yearly celebration upon this day, a masquerade ball held at the castle after the ceremony, tables of food for all, the whole kingdom invited. The ceremony before is for everyone to pay respects to the children and release a paper lantern into the sky with a pattern or symbol." She spoke telling the Winter Lord what needed to be done.

"Look behind you, it is a scroll of instructions of how to do everything. Now get to it and comeback to me before the final day." Marceline said disappearing once again from the Winter Lord, who did just that. Everything was set into motion as the Pumpkins were grown and given to everyone in the kingdom and instructed on how to carve their Pumpkin and such.

Soon the Winter Lord had made his way back to the forest as the final day was upon him. He was confused to see two Pumpkins and a black wolf mask on the rock, one of black the other of white. Both had been carved out, the white had a snowflake the other a raven or crow. "Marceline." The Winter Lord called out for her to answer.

"A Mask for you, and Pumpkins picked out for both of us, take both and set them next to the stone slab before the pumpkin, and do carve a face into the white one as well. I had taken the liberty to carve a design in them and a face in mine." She said, "Now the Ceremony will start near sundown when the sun has just touched the tree tops, you will be at the entrance to the kingdom with your paper lantern which is lit and once the Sun has sank halfway down make your way to the center and knee down in front of the stone slab. Once your head in down in respect show the lantern then let go of it, that will be the signal for everyone else to do the same. Afterwards lead everyone to the castle to party and celebrate in the souls rest. oh, and don't look back when walking to the center of the city please, the children will be behind you. trust me." She instructed once more, as the Winter Lord did what he was told.

At Sun down the Winter Lord was out side of the Kingdom gates, wearing the black wolf mask and the hood of his crimson red cloak up, the sky clear of any cloud and falling snow, the wind at a breeze and the paper lantern with a snowflake symbol on it lit inside. Once the Sun fell half way down he started his trek to the center of his kingdom, the sky turning black as he soon was kneeling down in respect as the Pumpkin's candle lit and the names carved themselves upon the stone, only cracking as the chips of the stone fell. Soon after it fell silent he released the paper lantern as the sky had grown brighter, the stars were shown and the light of the lanterns only increased the night sky's colors. The Winter Lord could only stare in aw, as he then needed to lead his people to the party, for them to dine and relieve there stress and tension.

The Winter Lord would have danced and relieved his tension of his 'Guilt', but was missing something... Or someone, for he liked the conversations him and Marceline would have. The Winter Lord swirled his wine in his glass, as the doors opened and all turned. A female of long Black and blue raven hair pulled back with blue ribbon, pale white skin and mismatched eyes of crimson red and sky blue. She had a black gown an gloves completed with a black crows mask, she made her way across the room to the Winter Lord as the doors had shut on their own. The room went back to the party though some muttered upon themselves of the mysterious lady of black.

She was soon in front of the Winter Lord who sat upon his throne, he could only wait for her to speak as he sat there, watching her then she smiled at him, "What Lord, don't fair the party?" She said as the Winter Lord recognized the voice, "Marceline?" he said shocked, as he finally noticed her canine teeth and pointed ears, as her smile widened. "Thought I stop by for the night, care to dance?" She spoke holding out her hand for the Lord, as he instinctively took it.

The Winter Lord and the demon-fairy danced as he soon felt right at home for once in his own castle. "Like I said, a burden is for more than one to carry. I can help you take care of this Kingdom so long as we both live?" She spoke, as the Winter Lord soon noticed it was a proposal, one he wished not to refuse, as they danced the night away.

The kingdom had put souls to rest on that night from then on, the Winter Lord and the demon-fairy lived in peace for as long as time could tell. And not a problem arise that they couldn't solve for those suffering, that night... Of Halloween. The Night Of Rested Souls."

(ok I know long, and such. Hope it was a good story/legend. this story is my version of the real one, (The WinterLord by Katy Towell/Children R Skary) ( look it up on YouTube, its an audio book.) P.S. the real Winter Lord is a Christmas based story just for the holiday spirit.)

(Note: I will not be updating for about a week, I have dog sitting for my oldest sister and will be staying at her house. So I will not be making a chapter for awhile, so please be patent. I have given you guys two chapters for my apologies. Thank you.)