Though this work may be written by me, it's parallel and completely inspired by my friend xXRochiRyuzakiXx 's story, A Life Long Forgotten. If you are to read this piece, I hope you also take the time to read her beginning and continuation of the same story, in Pitch's perspective. Hers is completely fabulous and I highly recommend it, and will paste a link at the bottom. For now, here it is in Sandy's point of view.
Pitch's Light
Sanderson hung over the side of his airboat peacefully, staring down at the world below. The sun had set on Beijing, but Beijing showed no signs of it. The streets were still as active as ever. The Sandman smiled dreamily at the families still milling about. His golden tendrils radiated out of him and his boat. The children below had extremely excited dreams. The Chinese New Years festival began the next day. More than a few of the dreams fluttered around and on the boat. He gazed lazily at the golden dragons dancing before him. Beautiful. They were among his favourite this year. The child had a very detailed imagination. He pulled a small wand out of the air and guided the dragons in a dance with it, resting his head in his other hand. He hoped the child enjoyed the dream. It was his new favourite of the night.
He stopped to watch a few more for the next hour, changing little things here and there, before deciding to head back to his palace once more. He pulled his boat into it's raised dock slowly, and proceeded to slink off of it. He formed a door to lead him to the center of the ever changing fortress. This was the one room that never changed position in his castle. Right in the heart is where it stayed. Where it belonged. He had an intricately decorated fireplace in the center of the far wall. (No matter which direction he entered from, it was always the far wall.) Surrounding the fireplace, were shelves upon shelves of books. Only his favourite books dwelled in this room. Given that it was his favourite room, he figured it was only right that the best of his book collection took up residence there. He didn't put them there, they simply grew from the walls. The palace was a combination of the ever changing human subconsciousness as a whole. The entirety of humanity, combined into a peaceful chaos. The center room, was Sanderson's alone. Only his subconscious made up this particular room, so everything was the way he needed it to be. It wasn't necessarily always what he wanted it to be, but the subconscious didn't need to cater to desire. The rest of the room had seemingly randomly placed furniture and knickknacks that would make no sense to an outsider, but made perfect sense to the spirit of dreams. He floated to a chair that sat beside the fireplace, sat down and began to nap.
He thought the blinking light had been a part of his odd dream, but when the Sandman opened his eyes, he saw it there was actually a light flashing at him from across the room. He stared at it interestedly for a moment. It wasn't an alarm light, those were red. It was a steady flash of green. He floated over and touched it. Upon contact, as he knew would occur, the light flashed and a door opened up to a hallway, in which the light guided him along. He had to keep up to avoid turning into an incorrect path. He needed to see which room this particular light would lead.
After only a few minutes, the light deposited him into a room, and promptly blinked away, as expected. It was the globe room. He stared at the towering sphere in confusion. He circled around it, detecting no problem, and stood back in wonder. There appeared to be no reason for a warning light. He couldn't see anything out of place. There didn't to be any sort of issue at all. He sat down in the only chair in the room and sighed, going through a list of possibilities in his head. None of them seemed to apply to this situation. Suddenly, an idea smacked him upside the head. Literally. The palace had thrown it at him. He rubbed the back of his head, where it had entered, and took a second to mull it over. It seemed to be a legitimate idea, so he followed its lead. He walked over to the large cabinet that resided in a far corner of the room, and pulled out a smaller, and dustier, version of his Guardian globe. The only difference other than the size, was the light pattern. It had thousands and thousands fewer illuminated points, either red or blue. Red indicated awake, while blue indicated asleep. And they were placed differently. It was a map of spirits, instead of children. He rarely glanced at it. It depicted, instead of belief, the conscious and unconscious spirits of the world. It was completely unique. He'd made it long before his days of companionship with the rest of the Guardians. He hadn't needed it since their appearance. He was no longer so lonely. He looked at it in contemplation, still unaware of the problem. He inspected the lights carefully, searching for the cause of the little green light.
He brought it back to the center room to study. After half an hour or so, Sandy finally realized the not-so-much-of-a-problem. The light had illuminated simply because of a new change. A little light, that had always been red as far as he knew, had, in fact, changed. Pitch's light.
A Life Long Forgotten: s/9550591/2/A-Life-Long-Forgotten ((to use the link, put fan fiction . net forward slash before the s, without the spaces.))