Chapter One - Pyrophobia

William Blaze slipped down from the rafters, smirking to himself. The old wood of the barn would catch fast and light up the night sky. Gazing at the makeshift pyre with pride, he tapped his dark wood staff on the ground. From the tip webbed a series of bright red lines across the floor, catching the hay and sparking to life. His eyes reflected the fire that leapt to the rafters, casting jumping shadows on his otherwise impassive face.

"You're worse than your brother," a voice echoed from the hayloft. Will jumped, watching the shadows carefully, gripping his staff like a weapon.

A man coalesced out of the shadows above him, leaning forward as if ready to fall.

"Oh, it's just you, Pitch," Will muttered, lowering his staff. He leaned on it, smirking up at Pitch, the fire shining in his eyes.

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Don't act so excited, William," he said, dropping through the loft and appearing in front of Will. "Put these flames out," he said, waving a hand. "I need your help."

"My help?" Will repeated, raising an eyebrow. He flicked the top of his staff and the flames snuffed out around them. "And why, pray tell, should I help you? Didn't the Guardians kick you into oblivion last time? No one believes in the Bogeyman anymore." He smirked, pushing his black hair out of his eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, Blaze," Pitch said. "You're not all that important to me. I'm just going to let you have a little fun."

"And how do I benefit from this?"

"Well, your brother is a Guardian now. Haven't you always wanted to one-up him?" Pitch flitted into the shadows, throwing his image on the walls around Will. "This is your chance. You can show him who is more powerful; who is more important."

Will, who had started to get angry, looked up sharply as Pitch reappeared before him. "I am," he snapped. A flame sparked from his fingertips, flickering erratically out of anger.

Pitch grinned. "I know you are. Isn't it time you showed him that, instead of constantly living in the shadows?" He faded away again, his voice echoing around the room and around the boy who stood there rooted to the spot, gritting his teeth and contemplating his choices.

"How do we do that?" he asked finally.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"William, you're on," Pitch said, floating over to him on a black stallion of shadows. The boy stood on the roof of a church, watching as the tendrils of golden sand slowly turned black over the city. He nodded and vaulted across the lane, landing precariously on the windowsill of an unremarkable townhome in a row of similar-looking houses on the street. Peering through the frosted glass, he saw a young boy tossing around in his bed. The black sand jumped around his head in the form of flames. He smirked, propped the window open and pointing his staff towards a corner of the room.

A fire sparked up in the corner, growing brighter and hotter. Will blew into the room, fanning it higher.

He waited for a minute until the boy's eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp. He saw the flames leaping at his wall, and let out a scream. A moment later, footsteps pounded in the hall. Will snuffed the flames with a snap of his fingers, crouching back against the windowsill.

The boy's mother burst into the room, looking at him wildly. He was frantically pointing at the wall. "Mama, there-there was fire!" he cried.

"Shh, shh," she whispered, pulling him close. "It was just a bad dream."

Satisfied, Will leapt lightly onto the ground and strolled towards the church, twirling his staff. Pitch appeared in front of him out of the shadows of the church doors. "Perfect," he said. He looked up at the sky. The black sand was swirling in the chilly night air. "He'll be here shortly. Make like the shadows, Will," he added before slipping back into the darkness.

"Ha, ha," Will muttered, slamming his staff into a crack on the ground. He melted into the shadows under the church's steeple, watching the sky.

Sandman came on a golden cloud, his eyes wide as he watched the black tendrils snake through the houses in the town. He watched in horror as red-eyed black horses on fire galloped through the night. He reached out to touch one, only to pull away as it snapped at his fingers. He drifted over to one of the houses across from the church and watched through the window as the black flames danced around the child's head.

Sandy looked around for the cause of the nightmares, angry that someone would dare to toy with the innocent dreams of children. But why couldn't he change the nightmares back? He whizzed away in a fury.

Pitch slinked out of the church in front of Will, causing the boy to jump. "I'm going to burn you one of these days if you keep that up," Will grumbled. "Where's he gone off to?"

Pitch lazily shrugged one shoulder. "Gone off to tell the others, I suppose," he drawled.

"Tell? That thing doesn't talk," Will sneered. "He's a squat little man who gestures and talks with pictures hanging over his head."

"So then what are you worrying about, William?" Pitch asked, slithering back into his realm of darkness. Will tapped his staff on the door of the church, an irritated gesture he was prone to do, and frowned. He turned around, following a snaking tongue of black sand towards the next house, repeating his performance. The girl's screams carried him to the next three houses.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Oh, right on time, Sandy," Jack Frost said, sitting on a telephone wire as Sandman appeared overhead in a fury of golden sand. Night had fallen moments ago and the children had been tucked into beds - with much complaining because it had just started snowing.

Sandy shook his head frantically, face set in a definite pout.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, getting to his feet, balancing with the crook in his hand. "Slow down, Sandy," he added as the pictures above Sandman's head changed at dizzying speeds.

Sandy's shoulders slumped, and the pictures stopped. Then, he gestured, mimicking his dream tendrils lancing through the night, followed by a picture of a flame above his head.

"The kids are dreaming about fire?" Jack asked uncertainly. Sandy nodded, an exclamation point bouncing up and down above him.

"Why?"

Sandy puffed, pointing at the image of fire again. It turned into a question mark and Sandy shrugged.

"Oh, you don't know," Jack guessed. "Well," he pushed himself off of the wire and into the night air. "I suppose I have nothing to do. Show me what's wrong."

Sandy nodded curtly and flew off in the direction he came from, followed closely by Jack. They stopped at the first house at which Sandy had noticed the nightmares and Sandy pointed through the window. The black flames were still swirling around the child's head.

"Didn't you try to change them?" Jack asked, nervously watching the flames. Fire made him uncomfortable.

Sandy put his hands on his hips and nodded. He pointed at the black sand, then snapped his teeth.

"It tried to bite you?" After being with the Guardians for nearly a year, Jack was finally starting to understand the Sandman as quickly as the others - when the images weren't swirling like a tornado above his head.

Sandy nodded again, looking sadly at the child tossing in his bed.

Jack glanced up at the black sand twisting through the night sky, obscuring the stars in patches. He followed one tendril to another house and frowned. It squeezed through the windows and leapt around the room like a bonfire. Jack pushed the window open and blew a gust of frigid air and snowflakes into the room. He gasped as the fire roared up and leapt higher. He shut the window with a snap and turned back to Sandy.

"We should tell the others."

Carter: Oooh, Jack has an evil brother? What will the Guardians do against this new threat? Things will start picking up in the next few chapters so stay tuned!

Ellis: Please review! Review if you liked it, review if you didn't.

Carter: We DO love reviews.