Everything around me was… soft… warm.

For a few minutes, I just floated there, between sleep and consciousness, in that safe place I almost never felt anymore.

Then, something brushed against my side. My eyes fluttered open, and a face came into focus. I just stared for a moment.

Green eyes narrowed in silent concentration... freckles... red hair… pink lips pursed.

She noticed my eyes were open and leaned back to pull off her gloves. She stood and turned her back to me to fiddle with what looked like medical equipment on the dresser.

I recognised the rounded, gold walls and the silky sheets laying over me. We were in my castle, alone. I was nestled in my bed with the covers pulled up to my shoulders, but I oddly felt cold. The doors to the balcony were open. I could hear distant mermaid song echoing over the ocean.

"I found your first aid," Aila explained. "There weren't many tools, but I did my best."

I tried to sit up, but winced when a stab of pain shot through my chest. I lifted the blanket to see my shoulders and collarbone were wrapped in bandages. Stunned, I shot a glance up at Aila.

She hesitated, then sat down on the chair beside the bed. "I… I was a doctor in my lifetime."

I furrowed my brow, but then shook my head. I nodded thankfully.

Aila pursed her lips and averted her eyes. "Of course… you took a pretty harsh blow for me. I should be the one thanking you."

I turned away, feeling my cheeks heat up. There was a long moment of silence as Aila fiddled awkwardly with her thumbs. Finally, she cleared her throat and insisted, "You should rest. It's not a deep laceration, and it'll heal quickly, but you certainly don't want to reopen it… trust me."

I wanted to argue with her, but I could barely keep my eyes open. I shoved the fatigue down and lifted my finger. I began to push myself up on my elbows. A sharp stab shot through my side, and I recoiled.

"No, you shouldn't get up," Aila insisted, but I continued to push.

She bit her lip and released a disgruntled sigh. "Here." She reached out her hand.

I stared at the pale, delicate palm for a moment. I could see all the blue veins. Her hands were steady and sure; they always had been like that. No matter what kind of pressure she was under, there was never even a tremor.

I placed my hand in hers. Her skin was soft and warm. I sat up with her help, wincing at the pain in my shoulder.

"Careful," Aila warned gently. "You don't want to disrupt your stitches."

My heart ached.

I smiled at her gratefully and eased to the ground. My chest was still smarting. I massaged it gently as I waved to her.

She hesitated, but followed me out the door. I led her through the castle and couldn't help but notice the way she gawked around, a quizzical expression on her face. "You have a brilliant home," she replied. I could practically hear the questions bouncing around in her head.

I grinned thankfully, stifling a yawn. We came to the guest room at the end of the castle. I opened the door and guestered inside for Aila. A small grin pulled at the corner of her lip. "Thank you for your hospitality. But please, you need to lie down—"

My heart thudded anxiously. I waved for her to wait, then conjured a dreamsand set of silk pajamas, a robe, and an eye mask for her.

Her brow furrowed, and I just happened to see the split second of hesitation before she accepted them. "I have a pair of pajamas just like this at home."

I swallowed hard, but the suspicion was gone in an instant. She just smiled and said, "Thank you," as she set the garments down on the bed. "But really, you need some sleep. You look exhausted. I can walk you back to your room if you'd like."

I wanted to say no, but I suddenly felt anxiety eating away at me at the thought of being alone and surrendering to sleep.

The two of us headed back in silence. She left me at the door, thanked me one last time, and then left. The door shut behind her, and then I was totally alone again. The room felt strangely hollow. Everything was so quiet, I could hear my heart thumping against my chest.

I just stared at the door for a few moments longer. My posture slumped, and I clasped my wound. When I pulled back my robe, the gash was irritated and red. Clenching my teeth, I limped to the balcony and shut the doors. I hovered there for a moment as well, until I finally realized I was prolonging the inevitable.

I tugged myself into bed, tucked under the covers, and just like that, I was out.


Aila

I pulled the door to the guest room shut behind me. The entirely golden room was elegant and very spacious, with a large, perfectly made bed. The pajamas laid on the corner of the mattress. One wall was entirely windows with drooping, sheer curtains hanging over the sides. There was a dresser as well, with a round, ornate mirror where I could see my reflection. My appearance certainly had seen better days.

I leaned closer to the mirror and tucked my hair into a bun. I wiped a bit of blood from my elbow.

I normally was not nearly this messy. But of course, I normally did not have to operate on someone with nothing but the contents of a first aid kit. It had been an ill-equipped, out-of-practice procedure, even if the first aid kit was packed with various types of medical equipment, some average people would have never even heard of. But it would certainly do. He would feel much better by morning.

The muffled sound of singing suddenly reached my ears. The sound was coming from outside, and as I watched, I thought I saw something stirring in the ocean. Curiously, I opened the window.

A mermaid sprung from the water in a graceful arc before diving back under the surface.

I leaned forward, trying to see better. I had always been fascinated by mermaids, even in my lifetime when I believed they were nothing but a myth. I'd seen plenty of strange creatures on the Isle of Stranded Souls, but I had never gotten the chance to see a mermaid.

I left the window open so I could listen to the spirited tones as I lifted up the robe still sitting on the bed. Up close, the golden material almost looked like sand. But it didn't feel gritty and coarse. Instead, it was buttery smooth, even softer than true silk.

I set the robe down on the bed again and brushed my hand over the blankets, up the headboard, then across the wall. Even though the walls were somehow hardened and rock solid, it was all still the same velvety sand. It was just like him.

I'd never operated on someone quite like him… he was indeed made of this same golden sand, but somehow also human underneath… or at least partially human.

By now, he had to be asleep. The poor sap had practically been dreaming on his feet.

I cracked the door open and peered through, scanning the hall. There was nobody there, so I crept out. I entered the foyer, and for the first time, got a good look at the beautiful entrance.

The roof, like every other room in the castle, was round. Everything from the furniture to the chandelier was made to resemble a sand castle, and it gave off a light of its own so everything glowed gently. There were several rounded windows lining the walls with a view of the ocean waves breaking close on the bay. The castle felt… peaceful. In fact, I suddenly felt a bit wabbit myself.

I stifled a yawn and kept moving, peering into room after room. There was a room with a golden Christmas tree and a sofa facing an open wall with a stunning view of the water, the biggest bathtub I had ever seen, and, strangely enough, a giant mass of swirling sand. I hesitated in that room for a moment, sending a glance around. There was nothing else there besides the gold particles drifting haphazardly throughout the room.

I hesitantly took a few steps closer. Immediately, the sand bunched together, and I watched in awe as it began to take form. The shapes fit together into vaguely familiar patterns, and suddenly, there was a globe hovering before me.

I leaned closer in awe. The globe was covered in specks of light scattered throughout each continent. When I touched one, the form collapsed back into the billows of swirling sand. I hopped away with a gasp.

I headed back into the hall and wandered a bit longer before coming across a grand staircase. I was halfway down when the light began to disappear.

At first, I thought it was a ruse of my eye. I paused on the step and blinked hard. Inexplicably, the glow of the gold sand was waning. Within a couple seconds, I was standing in the middle of the staircase in nearly complete darkness.

I groped for the banister, growling under my breath. If I had my bag, I usually kept a flashlight on me, along with some emergency medical supplies and a few beauty products. I would have my bag if someone hadn't kidnapped me.

Once I found the banister, I shuffled slowly down the steps. My eyes adjusted by the time I made it to the bottom, and I could see two long hallways on either side. In front of me, there was a strange portrait. As I squinted and stepped closer, I could see it was him. But not quite.

He was rounder in the portrait, with no drawn facial features except a brow and nose. His arms were extended, and gold sand was pouring from his palms. There were several pictures surrounding him, including one of a sleeping child and one of a castle.

On the frame was an engraving: Guardians.

What is a Guardian? I wondered.

The question lingered in my mind as I made my way down the left hall. I opened the first door and was delighted to see a library. Finally! Some information.

I rushed inside. Shelves of several hundred books reached high above my head, and there was a lounge and a table in the center with a pair of half moon spectacles and a book sitting on top. The room jutted out longer than the others, and, to my awe, the far wall and round ceiling were all windows. Underwater windows. I found myself staring directly at a manta ray gliding over the ceiling. I watched as the brilliant sea creature passed and disappeared into the depths.

How the physics of the room worked, I had no idea. It should have been impossible on many levels. But I had seen stranger things in the past couple of days, so I tried to ignore it.

I scanned the books on the shelves. Dreamweaver, Heather's Escape, The Dictionary of Dreams… The spine of one caught my eye: The Guardians of Childhood. I pulled the book off the shelf with an accomplished grin.

I hesitated for a moment before stepping under the glass ceiling, but eventually was able to make myself comfortable, spread out on the lounge chair. I opened the book.

The first page was a table of contents.

Introduction

Chapter 1: Sandman

Chapter 2: The Easter Bunny

Chapter 3: The Tooth Fairy

Chapter 4: Santa Clause

Chapter 5: Jack Frost

Chapter 6: The Enemy

At this point, total confusion clouded my mind. Yes, I had met a variety of spirits and oddities in the past… but Santa Clause? The Tooth Fairy? Surely they were myths.

I flipped to the introduction and scanned through. In summary, it explained the Guardians were mythical beings chosen by the Man in the Moon (who apparently existed as well) to protect the children of the world. Each of them represented different ideas: dreams, wonder, hope, memories, and fun.

Before becoming spirits, the Guardians led human lives.

My eyes lingered over the line.

Slowly, I turned to the first chapter. There he was. The same exact portrait of the golden little man that hung on the wall was the cover of chapter one.

The Sandman, Guardian of Dreams

I read on.

Sanderson Mansnoozie, commonly known in folklore and legend as the Sandman, is the eldest and arguably most powerful of the Guardians. The Sandman is known by the mortal world as the bringer of dreams: the mysterious being who carves and delivers their dreams, leaving sandy residue, also known as dreamsand, on their eyes.

I glanced up at the golden room. Dreamsand.

Very little is known about the Sandman's past life, but in the present, he is creative and peaceful, but also a fierce protector with a direct line to the children of the world.

There was no way this was real. The Sandman was a myth, and so were the other "Guardians."

And yet, I was sitting inside a castle made of golden sand, and the same mythical being staring up at me from the book was lying in bed upstairs. I huffed and turned the page.

Of course, there is also a bringer of nightmares: the Sandman's opposite, the Boogeyman, more commonly known as Pitch Black (see page 124).

Immediately, I pictured the ashy grey man who had attacked us before. If anyone had looked like the Boogeyman, it was him.

There was a knock behind me. I jumped so strongly the book flew out of my hands. When I turned, a mermaid was at the window. She grinned and waved cheerfully.

I hesitantly smiled and waved back, then she turned, did a flip, and disappeared into the blue expanse.

Grumbling slightly, I stooped down and picked up the book from the floor. When I lifted it onto my lap, it had turned to a new page.

The Tooth Fairy, Guardian of Memories

Memories. I eagerly read on. Similar to the Sandman's page, the chapter discussed the Tooth Fairy's place among the other Guardians and described her job of collecting the teeth children lose in their early years. But one line in particular made me freeze.

The Tooth Fairy makes her rounds at night, gathering the teeth from under children's pillows. She collects them in small containers. When the owner of the teeth touches their personal container, they can watch their memories play out in front of them.

The room faded around me.

My memories.

My heart was racing now. I could know my life! I could see the missing pieces! And maybe I would even know why my memories had been erased.

I dropped the book onto my lap.

I could get off the Isle of Stranded Souls.

At that moment, another book grabbed my attention. Squinting through the dark room, I could just barely see the torn up cover jutting out over the shelf.

I placed the The Guardians of Childhood on the table and inched over to the book slowly, as if I was afraid of what I would see.

The spine slipped naturally into my hand. For a split second, I saw myself alive, reaching to take the book off my shelf.

I scanned the front. There were no words: just a blank, well worn, leather cover. I cracked it open. The way the book laid open in my palm, so big it almost hurt my fingers, felt hauntingly familiar. I gasped at the first page, my hand clasping my heart.

The Study of Medicine

I reached to turn the page and found my hand shaking.

The castle burst into light. I dropped the book as my hands flew over my eyes. The light flickered down again.

"What the devil is going on now?" I exclaimed, rubbing my eyes. When I opened them again, I gasped. The golden walls of the castle were turning… black. An eerie, bone-chilling sensation seeped through my bones. I rubbed my eyes again, but the black sand was still crawling across the castle.

I rushed out of the library and back into the hall. The walls there were turning black as well. I raced up the steps.

Finally, I came to his room, out of breath, and cracked open the door.

For a moment, everything was quiet. He was still sleeping. I drew close enough to see his face from across the room. The Sandman.

He rolled harshly, chest suddenly heaving.

Instinctively, I rushed to his side. I paused. Images made of black sand were writhing over his head. I leaned forward a bit, and I could see the black image was him. Was this… his dream?

In the dream, the ashy grey man— the Boogeyman— rose up behind the Sandman's black form and drew his crossbow taut. The Boogeyman released. The arrow plunged into the Sandman's back.

He tossed in bed again, clenching the sheets with his fists. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

I couldn't watch anymore.

I pressed my hand into his shoulder. "Sandman!"