The beast was close.
Sanderson could sense its dark aura as he floated carefully above the treetops. His golden eyes scanned the forest for any sign of movement. The full moon shone overhead and Sandy was grateful for the light Tsar Lunar was giving him.
He had been hunting the beast for three nights now. It hadn't dared to enter the village on the edge of the forest yet but Sanderson knew it was growing bolder. Soon the little lanterns the villagers hung outside their wooden homes would be no deterrent.
He hadn't quite figured out what it was. Using Sanderson's dreamsand as a conduit, Tsar Lunar had told him it had fallen to Earth, trapped within a black meteorite. Apparently it was some sort of energy feeder, akin to how Sanderson was powered by belief. Lunar did not know exactly what it fed on but he certainly did not like how close it was getting to the isolated village.
Sanderson didn't like it either.
He also didn't like how crafty the beast was. He had already tried setting traps for it such as golden nets formed from his dream sand. Each one had been easily dodged, destroyed or ignored by the creature. So Sanderson had decided to simply wait: to be a fisherman rather than a hunter. The creature had shown no inclination to leave: there was definitely something in the village it wanted.
'Well', thought Sanderson, 'It's not getting it without a fight'. He, the Guardian of Childhood and Master of Dreams, would make sure of that.
He had spotted it a couple of times. One moment it had been a hulking black mass with pale eyes glowing in the centre. Then it had become a sinuous serpent slipping over logs and sliding on the surface of the river. Finally, when he had thought he had it cornered, it had burst into a cloud of leathery winged shadows that had escaped into the trees.
Now, as he narrowed his eyes, he thought he could see something moving ahead of him. A chill wind blew through the trees, carrying with it an unusual sound. A gentle sound like sighing. He swooped behind the top of a particularly large tree and watched the creature approach.
It was moving carefully and quietly. In this case, it had taken on a more recognisable form: that of a large wolf. It was not perfect though. Occasionally Sanderson saw its paw melt into the dark grass or it move too fluidly to be a solid creature. As it sniffed the air, Sanderson manifested a thick rope of dream sand, taking care not to let his golden aura peek out from his hiding place.
As the creature passed beneath his tree, Sanderson leapt and landed on the creature's back, slinging the dreamsand lasso around its neck.
The creature dissolved its body instantly but could not change the shape of its head. The dreamsand was doing its work: containing the creature's powers. Sanderson used his free hand to create a sword. He slashed at the tentacles the creature was using to attack him and glared back at the wolf's snapping black teeth. He was thrown about, trying desperately to keep hold on the creature's glossy, slick hide. It took flight, barrelling through the undergrowth and trees. It banged him into rough bark and dragged him through the river. He tried to choke it and wear it down.
Finally it seemed the creature was tiring. It tentacles could not be kept aloft any longer and one by one they fell to the ground. Sanderson watched each one be reabsorbed. The creature was forced to land, its wings falling away like leaves in Autumn. The creature fell heavily on to its side and lay there, its form reverting to the shape of the wolf to match its unchanged head. A grey tongue lolled from between its teeth as it panted in exhaustion. Grey, unfocused eyes looked at the forest floor.
Sanderson had to get it into the moonlight now! Before it regained its strength. Conjuring additional golden ropes that bound its paws and its muzzle, he dragged it to a nearby clearing. The moon shone down and Sanderson could feel Tsar Lunar's eyes on him and the creature. He knew Tsar Lunar could destroy it if it was a creature of darkness. All it would take was concentrated moonlight.
He rubbed his hands, ruefully looking at the welts and cuts on his fingers.
But then smiled as he noticed a familiar sensation flapping around his hair.
He watched the moths cluster around his golden light. They always tickled!
But now was not the time for distraction. He and Lunar had a job to do.
He saw the moon begin to glow and a thin beam of concentrated light begin to creep slowly along the grass. Lunar was beginning the unpleasant task. He was a good spirit, of that Sanderson had no doubt. But when it came to beings of shadow, there was no mercy.
He turned to watch the sorry scene, causing the moths to flap away and stopped dead.
He watched the creature extend a tentacle with surprising gentleness. A single moth landed, its silvery wings fluttering as it settled.
Sanderson heard the creature make a strange noise.
It sounded…contented?
Maybe…
He hastily jumped in front of the creature, holding up a hand to the moon. The beam's steady approach ceased. Sanderson could sense Lunar waiting patiently for an explanation.
Sanderson would always more in favour of showing than telling.
Moving in front of the creature, he heard it growl as the moth fluttered away. It stirred menacingly, coiling back like a reptile preparing to attack. Its pale pupil-less eyes narrowed and a maw opened, displaying needle like teeth.
Sanderson held out a hand, palm open. Hopefully the creature was like an Earth animal that way and could read his lack of aggression.
It didn't bite him at least. It cocked it's still wolflike head curiously. Sanderson's hand rested on its hide. It was like velvet: cool and soft. Sanderson met its gaze. It still didn't bite. That settled it.
It was more than an animal. It just didn't know how to be anything else.
Sanderson stood back and prepared the magic. He would help it.
As he began to weave the dreamsand in a complex swirling pattern, the creature's head swivelled. Its eyes widened at the shining spectacle and Sanderson watched in amazement as it playfully tried to catch some of the sand on its tongue.
The net suddenly tightened and the creature seemed to fold in on itself. Eclipsed by a ball of golden light, Sanderson began to help the creature mould into a new shape. One to help it fit in. One it could use to communicate with others. One that he could understand.
Abruptly, the mass inside the circular sandstorm shrank. Sanderson was careful to contain the creature's power but not diminish it. As he sealed the spell, an unearthly roar from within was transformed into a high pitched scream.
He was finished.
Muttering the unravelling incantation, the sphere dissipated. The golden sand rose like embers and disappeared into the sea of stars.
A naked boy knelt on the ground where the creature had been. He was staring raptly at the moon. Sanderson knew who was talking to him and knew better than to intrude.
The boy was grey skinned with messy black hair. As Sandy created a robe for him from golden dreamsand, the boy just continued to stare at the moon. His eyes were narrow and to Sanderson's surprise, now a bright golden. A side effect of the magic he assumed. As he layered the clothes onto the boy's slim frame, the material became a deep black, the soft golden dream dust fading like ice melting on a pond.
After a little while, the moon lost its bright glow and drifted behind a cloud. The audience was over.
Sanderson and the boy were left alone in the clearing.
The boy tried to rise but stumbled. Sanderson floated over and offered the boy his hand. The boy took it after a moment of hesitation. His grip was strong but soft, like the creature's. Picking up a nearby staff like branch, the boy used it to stand on his new legs. He stood quietly and Sanderson could sense his uncertainty. Everything was new to the boy. Everything was scary.
'Did he tell you your name?' Sanderson asked, smiling encouragingly. He would watch the boy. He was his responsibility now. Maybe he could become a Guardian in his own right? There was no doubt that the boy was powerful. Sanderson had felt his temper first hand. If that could be tempered with patience and focused with friendship, they could achieve so much!
The boy looked at him and after a few experimental breaths with his new body, found his own quiet voice.
'Pitch Black', came the reply with a smile in return.