Jackson Overland. That was his name. Of course, he hardly remembered it himself — it came to him in something of a dream, looking at the memories from his life before his skin turned cold. It said he was born in the early 1600s, a town called Burgess. He had a mother, always watching and worrying over her troublesome son and his mischievous attitude, him always assuring “I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine” — if only they had known. A kind father with a gentle hand, teaching him how to fish and climb trees and to listen before you speak, Jack. There are many important things to be heard.
“The ice is thin today, be careful.” Listen to your father, Jack.
He had a little sister, a small admirer padding along in her big brother’s footsteps, the target of all his pranks, of his jokes, of his kind words and gentle encouragements. He remembered the way she laughed, how she cried, the feeling of her cheek pressed against the back of his neck as he carried her home, but not her name. That was gone. He remembered the way she whimpered as the ice cracked beneath her feet, feeling a fear that paled in comparison to Her Big Brother’s for her, the way she played along with his little game. “Don’t look down. Keep looking at me.” One, two, three, hopscotch. Ignore the breaking ice, you’re almost there. He grabbed the crooked stick just near enough to reach and pulled her out of the way, just in time.
The ice broke, and he drowned.
This was the end of Jackson Overland, but the day Jack Frost was born. The Moon was the first thing he saw when he rose from the ice, skin pale white and hair turned alabaster. The Moon had saved him, saw something in him that made him grant Jack the power of immortality and cryokinesis. He would be the new winter spirit, his crooked staff at his side, bringing snow days and fun times to children wherever he went. The drawback? If you didn’t believe in him, you couldn’t see him.
And for 300 years, nobody believed in him. He was a troublesome loner, wreaking playful havoc on the now modern town of Burgess, Pennsylvania. An icy wind scattered important papers with from an unfortunate open window, snowballs fused with winter magic aimed for the back of a stranger’s head — they were all his doing. He brought fun and games wherever he went, and even though he wasn’t aware, that was the quality the Moon had seen in him. Fun. A warm heart (even with his drastically cold body) would be the perfect fit to join the Guardians.
Jack was reluctant at first, sure. Him? A Guardian? No, no, he wasn’t meant for responsibility, never mind the one of protecting the children of the world and their dreams, their hopes, their innocence. He was dragged into the fight against the boogeyman anyways, and his reluctance…began to fade away. For the first time in three centuries, he had friends — and there was a little boy, Jamie, the first child to ever see him. He gained his memories of Jackson from Tooth, a purpose in the world, and a future to look forward to.
Stories of the valiant Guardian of Fun spread, and now Jack is believed in and seen almost universally. With an eternity to exist, he’s started taking his job as ice spirit seriously and left his home of Burgess, traveling the world to change the seasons and bring winter to every far off land he can possibly explore.