I shot up from my bed in a frenzy, wildly searching the dark room around me as the covers crumpled at my hands.

My eyes adjusted, and the familiar surroundings began to comfort me. The sand castle sensed my consciousness, and a gentle glow began to spread through the walls. In the golden, tender light, I held my shivering body and kneaded my forehead. My pants echoed against the empty room.

There was obviously no falling back to sleep now— I was wide awake. With a sigh, I pulled myself from my blankets and dropped to the floor. I could see my reflection in the mirror— weary eyes rimmed with dark circles and weighed down by heavy bags, gold hair matted from tossing and turning.

I brushed my fingers through my hair. A tiny, half-hearted grin pulled at the corner of my lips. What an irony it was… the bringer of pleasant dreams haunted by nightmares.

Shaking my head at my reflection and rubbing the worried expression from my face, I left the mirror. I was about to move out of the bedroom, but I hesitated at my dresser. Against my will, my eyes shot towards the bottom drawer. I quickly turned my head.

I knew I shouldn't open it. All it ever did was make things worse.

I tried to step away, but my feet wouldn't move. Images from my nightmares resurfaced all at once… just a flash of red hair, a shining smile, an arrow, fire.

I knelt down and pulled open the drawer. It was totally empty except for a small, black box which I lifted to my face and paused, just staring for a moment. I hesitantly grabbed the top half. I just barely cracked the lid open, but then released a sigh and allowed it to snap shut again.

I shook my head and grimaced. It was stupid to pull them out, stupid.

I gently placed the case back inside the drawer and pushed it shut. I gathered myself and left the room without looking back.

The warm glow of the sand followed my steps, lighting my way through the halls of my home. Everything was silent except for the distant, solemn tones of mermaid song in the ocean.

My shift was starting soon, judging by the retreating sun on the horizon, so I gave myself a stretch and a shake and brushed my hair back into place.

Outside of my castle, the ocean was painted by the sunset, red and purple and blue. The mermaids' voices hummed in the air, though their tones sounded strangely solemn tonight.

I created an airplane of dream sand and, ignoring the exhaustion pulling at my limbs, took off into the night sky.


. . .

Sandy was late again.

Every night, Jack Frost always looked forward to seeing the beautiful dreamsand spiraling from the clouds above, the careful work of his short, friendly counterpart.

Sandy never failed to deliver. At the same time every night, the graceful tendrils of gold light would descend over Burgess, gifting the young children with their own perfectly carved dreams.

For years, Sandy had always been on time. Which was why Jack began to worry when he started showing up later and later.

The young Guardian bounced around the trees on the outskirts of his frozen pond, searching the skies. The woods were eerily quiet, and the sky was dark. Everything looked exactly the same as it had an hour ago. Jack flopped down on a branch with a huff and leaned against his staff.

His eyes flicked up at the sight of a familiar golden glow. There was a vine of dream sand flittering before him. He smiled in relief, but the expression quickly melted from his face.

Something was... off about the dreamsand. It seemed dim, and instead of the graceful movement he was used to, there was an awkward stiffness. When he reached out to brush his hands through, the normal silkiness had somehow become coarse.

A shadow of concern passed over Jack's face. He turned his attention back to the sky. All the dreamsand stemmed from one particular spot hidden in the clouds.

With a glance at the moon mostly hidden by the overcast weather, Jack allowed the wind to sweep him upwards. He popped his head through the clouds and, sure enough, there was Sandy.

The short guardian's back was turned so Jack couldn't see his face, but he could tell his friend moved with less spontaneity and life upon his cloud of dreamsand.

Jack waited there patiently for Sandy to finish his work… creating dreams took concentration he didn't want to interrupt.

Just as Jack was about to approach the Guardian of Dreams, Sandy paused and glanced around, a strange look on his face. Then, instead of retreating back into the sky and heading off to the next town as usual, he directed his dreamsand perch downwards.

Jack tilted his head and furrowed his brow. Curiosity took over. He sprung through the clouds after him, allowing the glow of the dreamsand against the mist to guide him all the way back to the pond. There, Sandy disappeared into the trees.

Quietly as he could, Jack followed. As he crept through the woods, a dark thought crossed his mind. He quickly dispelled it. There was no way Sandy was going there… Why would he do that?

But as Jack rounded a patch of bushes, his heart clenched. Sandy was hovering over a hole in the ground, completely still, his arms wrapped around himself in a hug as he stared down into the pitch black darkness.

Finally, Jack emerged from his hiding spot. "Sandy?" he called.

Sandy jumped and whipped around. The momentary expression of pure terror that passed over his face caught Jack off guard. When he recognized Jack, Sandy let out a breath, hand over his heart, and gave a smile, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"What are you doing here?" Jack questioned, approaching him. He peered down the never ending tunnel. A cool breeze wafted from the depths, and he leaned back as adverse memories flooded him.

Sandy didn't respond. Instead, he fixed Jack with a somber gaze. He didn't have to try answering. Jack could tell by his friend's expression what was going on in his brain. Sandy needed to make sure Pitch was still gone.

"I know you've been… anxious lately… but Pitch is gone." Jack sighed, kneeling to Sandy's height and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Those fearlings are never gonna let him go."

Sandy averted his gaze to the ground and nodded slowly in understanding, but his nervous eyes still flicked back to the depths of the tunnel.

"Why don't we get away from here?" Jack suggested with a smirk, "It's creepy."

Sandy nodded yet again, gaze still shifting to the side. Just as the two began to turn away, there was a noise from below. The whinny of a horse.

Jack hesitated, and Sandy went rigid. Slowly, they exchanged a glance. Sandy gulped. Their gazes travelled together back to the hole.

"No way. That's not possible," Jack grumbled, half to himself.

But the whinny came yet again, an echo rattling off the walls of the tunnel.

Jack approached the hole and peered down through the darkness. He glanced back and Sandy, who, as if reading his mind, held out his hands and shook his head.

"Don't worry," Jack replied lightheartedly. "I'm just gonna check it out. I'm sure it's nothing."

Without waiting for a response, Jack leaped into the hole. He plunged through the darkness and nimbly touched down. Before him stretched Pitch's familiar cavern, reaching endlessly into the ground, with cages hanging from the ceiling and a dank scent lingering in the air. The cave had always been derelict, but now, after several months of neglect without its master, it was falling apart.

There was a light thump behind Jack as Sandy joined him.

"Pitch never was much of an interior decorator, was he?" Jack quipped as he strolled down the cracked, brick pathway.

Sandy clenched his teeth, but reluctantly followed. The Guardian of Dreams tugged on Jack's hoodie and pointed back to the exit.

"I'll just be a few seconds. I want to look around a bit," Jack promised, ushering him away.

Sandy huffed in frustration with a stamp of his foot, but he trailed after Jack.

They descended deeper into the lifeless cave of shadows, but nothing seemed to stand out. Everything just looked dead and dreary.

Finally, Jack stopped and leaned against his staff. "I guess it really was just nothing… We should probably get out of here."

Sandy nodded vehemently and gave a thumbs up, but Jack was no longer paying attention. Instead, his eyes wandered to the other side of the cave.

"His globe is still glowing," he admired absentmindedly, pointing to the large sphere.

Before Sandy could stop him, he leaped into the air and glided swiftly across the chasm. He neared the globe. It was covered in something. Were they… papers?

Suddenly, Sandy floated past him, almost as if in a trance. He approached the globe and rested a hand on it, then immediately clasped his fingers over his mouth.

"What is it, Sandy?" Jack asked hurriedly, rushing to his side.

There, tacked to the globe, were multiple large paintings of a woman in beautiful dresses and jewels with long, ginger ringlets of hair falling over her shoulders. Her glinting smile seemed bright even in the faded paintings.

Sandy began to back away, his eyes searching the pictures with his hands still over his mouth. He and Jack made eye contact for a moment. The Guardian of Dreams had turned pale.

"Who is she?" Jack wondered aloud.

Before Sandy could respond, a voice echoed against the walls.

"I promise, this is just a minor setback," came the slightly desperate sounding voice.

Sandy and Jack exchanged a glance, then rushed backwards and ducked around a corner. Safely hidden there, they peered around.

A chillingly familiar black figure hunched over the globe, surrounded by irritated nightmares huffing and snorting.

"It's not like she's missing… I know exactly where she is. The Isle of Stranded Souls is simply... difficult to infiltrate."

Sandy sent a frightened glance towards Jack.

"She's all we need, and then we will have gained the upper hand… We should leave immediately. It's time to do this job once and for all."

There was no mistaking that grinding, scratchy voice.

Pitch Black was alive.