Finally got this story started, thank God. (took you long enough, Gina... :/ )

Anyway, this is the redone version of a story I previously wrote... and deleted because I'm putting that part in this story anyway, so... kind of pointless to have the same scene in two different stories, right?

So, I'm testing that waters with this story. I'm trying to write longer chapters for things because that seems to be my big problem. I don't seem to put in enough detail and I'm working on that with this project.

Um... reviews would be very helpful. Let me know what you think of this so far? I think this story's going to be cool, but encouragement from others helps me a lot. So... yeah... I'll get out of your way now...

The richness of the Italian sun shined down on the high-heeled boot, welcoming in a new day that began to bid adieu to the Man in the Moon's form until the evening would come once again. The orange and yellow light danced off of the mountain ranges lying behind the open land and bustling cities. Yes, only sunrise and the day already seemed promising to the residents of the country as early risers began their morning rituals, completely unaware of what the peaceful, snow-capped mountains in the distance hid from their sight.

Carved into a mountain side that was nearly impossible to climb up without wings or some form of magic, ruins of an ancient establishment rested in serenity. The sunlight made its dull clay bricks give off a yellow tint that reflected off of the patches of snow scattering the space. Its crumbling stone pillars seemed to barely support the roof above them that appeared to merge with the mountain itself, while other pillars and some scarce statues littered the roughly paved floor in front of a massive marble door, faded and cracked from age. Above the heavy mass of rock, a small hourglass was carved into the façade of the building.

Despite its apparent age, this fortress was much more than the eye could behold. Inside the ancient ruins, one might mistake it for an eclectic castle that was polished moments before their entry. Past the aged door was a library of great proportions. Shelves were lined in rows that reached the peak of the high ceilings and each shelf was packed with literature of all types, in countless languages. The space was decorated in red furniture with golden trims that were accented with multiple golden statues of multiple time-keeping devices.

Sitting amongst a stack of opened books sat a man that appeared no older than thirty, immersing himself in the adventure that was messily scribbled across the handwritten pages. He scratched his chin intently and let out a quiet chuckle. A caw sounded in the distance, gaining his attention. The man nonchalantly turned to the source of the sound, a crow fluttering down to his level and letting out on more cry.

"That time already, is it?" The man sighed, folding the corner of the page he was on and closing the book. He stood from his seat and opened his dark brown trench coat, peering at the many hourglasses resting inside. He inspected the containers of silver sand for a moment before a smirk crept onto his face, noting that many were nearly filled on the bottoms. "I guess it is." He held out his arm to the crow. "Come."

Without hesitation, the black bird landed on his forearm and climbed to a rest on her master's shoulder. The pair walked toward a set of seven doors in the library. The man stared at the carvings above the doors, each depicting a different continent of the planet. He settled his eyes on his homeland of Europe and stepped inside. He effortlessly strode down the incredibly ornate hallway that lied in wait on the other side of the door. He passed more doors, which all had the name of a country printed on a silver plaque. "Germany" "France" "Spain" the list carried on as he passed them all by.

Coming to the end of the hall, he found the epicenter of the library, which contained what it was created to protect. A giant hourglass, filled with silver sand that spiraled inside like a small tornado, sat in the middle of this room. The distinguished fellow approached the marvel before him and stroked the crow's head, causing it to coo. "I guess it's time to renew time, eh, Kali?" The crow cawed again happily before shooing herself away from her master, who once again opened his trench coat, revealing the silver sand in the hourglasses was then also swirling inside their glass barriers. Soothing light began to shine through the skylight over the massive hourglass. The man in the trench coat peered up to see the dim crescent form of the Man in the Moon looming over it. "Right on time, Manny." He smiled and released his grips on the coat, which then stayed opened on its own. He motioned his hands delicately and slowly drew the sand out of the containers in his pockets. The freed particles of time itself circled the man and the sands still contained within the giant hourglass intensified in speed. When Manny's light showed stronger upon the hourglass, the top cracked open and the free flying sand propelled itself inside, dancing in the moonlight. The sands mixed with what was already inside the glass; light faded and the lid closed again.

A sparkle of silver spattered down upon the man and dispersed, collecting itself within his tiny hourglasses. He smiled as the sands settled in the largest hourglass, at the top half of the structure, and began to trickle down to the bottom. Kali reappeared on his shoulder and was welcomed with a gentle hand running against her feathers. "Shall we return to library, my dear?" With Kali's caw as his only response, he closed his trench coat and strode back down the hallway he came from.

The walk was silent between the man and his feathered companion. It was soundless in the library, as normal, but something irked them both as they glided down the corridor. It was… almost too quiet to be content. Shining silver eyes traced the molding on the ceiling and every dark wood door. The air was thickened by an unknown source that added an unwelcome pressure onto his usually relaxed state. He hadn't seen any other crows from his flock in some time and their distant caws and the sounds of their feet scurrying about the bookshelves behind closed doors were nonexistent. There was something really off; something he couldn't quite describe.

Re-emerging in the main part of his library, his fears were realized. The man and his bird were met by a form of darkness seated where he had been before he left the room. This tall shadow of a man had the book opened to the folded page.

"Viking times…" A velvet voice spoke. The form turned to the man in the trench coat, with an evil grin made from jagged teeth. The intruder was none other than the boogeyman. "I figured you were over that time period by now, Father Time?"

The man groaned at his title. "You know, I still don't understand how I acquired that name; I'm not a married man and I lack children."

"Living under a pile of dirt does that to a man, doesn't it?" Pitch called back. "But there was that interesting rumor about you and Mother Nature awhile back, wasn't there?"

"That was five hundred years ago, Pitch." Father Time responded. "What interests me is how you're here. Last I heard, the Guardians defeated you and you vanished not long after that."

"They did and I was." Pitch replied "Fear can't simply be snuffed out." He closed the book. "But that's not why I'm here."

"I suggest you leave before I have to deal with you myself."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, time keeper." Pitch purred "If I know correctly, you have just offered the Man in the Moon all of the sand you've accumulated over the past twenty-four hours. Your entire personal supply is depleted back to him, correct?" Father Time's face fell at the comment. "I figured as such. Now, I'm feeling rather generous right now, so I'll offer you a deal. Either I get what I desire from you or it will be taken from you by my Nightmares." At the sound of their name, five black horses of corrupted dreams emerged from the shadows of the library and eyed their objective. "Which will it be?"

Father Time scanned his surroundings and clenched a fist. He glared at Pitch Black with fierce hazel eyes. "What do you want, exactly?"

"Oh, it's nothing much. I only require some of your sand is all." Pitch walked towards his target, smirk clear on his face.

"Never." The time keeper answered plainly. "I would rather die than risk an imbalance of something so precious as time." Kali puffed out her feathers, in an attempt to scare fear itself.

"I was afraid you'd say that, I really was." Pitch sighed. "Because that can be arranged."

With a snap of Pitch's fingers, the Nightmares leapt to life and charged towards Father Time. Whinnies accompanied the clopping of their hooves. Yellow eyes bore onto their prey, showing no mercy in the slightest.

"Kali, go!" Father Time shook his shoulder and catapulted the bird off of him, allowing her a quicker takeoff as she vanished into one of the many small holes within the walls that were used by she and her fellow birds. Her master glared at his attackers and shot out an arm that was quickly followed by tiny trickles of his silver sands. Somehow, the minuscule amount of sand birthed a scythe for their commander that he took into battle against the Nightmares. A swing of the scythe sliced through one of the black horses and it disintegrated back into the state of black grains. Another swing, this time the target was missed; the same result from two more failed strikes that the Nightmares easily evaded. A kick met Father Time's back and a bite went to the calf of his right leg.

Though difficult in his weakened state, he managed to escape the bite and gain distance between himself and the Nightmares staring him down. Sliding a shaking hand down the scythe, he scraped grains of silver onto the tips of his fingers. Quickly, he commanded them to meet in his palm and he tightly clenched a fist. The Nightmares jumped for him.

There was stillness once more. But, this time, it soothed Father Time. He opened his previously shut eyes. The room around him was in a state of suspended animation, though he remained the same. He studied the horses as they moved only slightly in that instance, his fist still clenched. "It really is a shame I have to destroy something so fascinating." He pouted before stepping out of their paths. He peered around his library and found two things out of place. He could not find Pitch or the book he was holding in his hands.

Neighs began to sound at a turtle's pace behind him. Time was returning to normal as the sand dissolved in his hand. Father Time gripped his weapon and released his fist. He watched as the action intended for him was carried out to an empty space that was surrounded by the remaining four Nightmares. Shocked by their goal not being met, the horses desperately glanced about the space, searching for him. In the confusion, Father Time scanned the library for signs of Pitch's presence and found the door leading down the hallway labeled for North America was cracked open, ever so slightly. As soundlessly as he could, he rushed into the corridor and raced to the other side. The neighs of the Nightmares grew closer as he raced back to the room with the giant hourglass and came to a screeching halt.

There was Pitch. Just standing there, staring at the trickling sand inside of it. Slowly, he raised a grey hand to the glass. "How much would I need from you?" He muttered to himself.

"Don't you dare touch that hourglass!" Pitch swiveled on his heels and took Father Time; scythe poised to strike and rage in his eyes, in his sight once more.

"How did you get here; I thought you were occupied?"

"I'm very resourceful under pressure." Father Time snarled. "Step away from that and maybe we can settle this like gentlemen."

Pitch lowered his hand back to his side and stared blankly at his opposition. The slightest evil grin showed on his face. "No." The Nightmares stomped into the room. The horse in front of the others snorted in resentment and the encircled their king's could-be attacker. "Take care of him until my business is done here." Pitch commanded.

The Nightmares stomped and shuffled their hooves against the ancient granite floors. Father Time deeply inhaled, tightening the grip on his weapon until his knuckled turned white, and swung his scythe almost like he was on auto-pilot. Evading the attacks thrown at him, he put up a much better fight now that he knew the stakes were higher than anticipated. Pitch getting his hands on his sand was something he would never allow, as long as he could help it. He whisked his bludgeon through the air but that's also all that he managed to hit. He could feel his scythe get weaker with every swing as it began to fall apart. He simply didn't have enough silver powder to maintain his weapon of choice. He knew that, but he had to fight on. He just had to.

One more swing; this one was a hit. The scythe destroyed one more horse before it finally gave way and went back to simply being sand, retreating inside his coat. Father Time's expression hit the floor within an instant. His power was used up for the time being; he was defenseless now.

"Such a shame." Pitch sighed. "And you were putting up such a fight."

Father Time turned to the Boogeyman with a stiff glare. "Who said that the fight was over?" The black horses surrounded him, snouts and eyes flaring with a great hunger that he would hate to admit he was satisfying at that moment. He balled his fists and crouched, preparing for a strike by the Nightmares… but it never came. He glanced up and around and noticed no Nightmares around him. Only he and Pitch remained in the room.

"I admire how hard-headed you are." Pitch approached Father Time with an effortless stride. "But you may want to pick your fights more wisely… in time."

A harsh blow to the time keeper's head propelled him to the stone floor, leaving him gasping for breath. All at once, the walls and ceiling became one. The rich reds, golds and silvers merged into one confusing spiral that faded to black. Faint hooves clicking on the floor sounded through the ringing in his ears.

"And thank you for your hospitality. It's much appreciated." Pitch's smooth voice chimed with an eerie echo. Then a crash, glass shattering, retreating footsteps and a whoosh sounded within seconds of one another. Then… darkness... silence.

The world began to come back into focus with the fluttering of exhausted eyes. Father Time rose from his place on the ground, rubbing his silver eyes with a painful groan and his world became a whole image once again… but it was far from a lovely scene to awaken to. His gaze immediately turned to the hourglass in the center of the space, which now had a gaping hole in the top of it; shards of its glass and piles of silver sand covered the surrounding floor. The hourglass' keeper gaped in shock at the sight before him. With adrenaline beginning to subside, he felt a harsh throbbing coming from the back of his head. He ran a hand over the source of the throbbing and gently rubbed it. He pulled his hand back in front of him to reveal the slightest traces of blood on his fingertips.

"This cannot be happening…" Father Time worriedly stated; letting out a wince at the pain he felt enslaving his body. "Kali!" He called as he began to lift the fallen sand from the ground with a flick of his hand. The black bird swooped down to her master with five other crows in tow, each carrying a significantly smaller hourglass in their talons. "Good, very good. Late is better than never, right?" He divided the silver power among the five containers and the lids closed when they had their fills. "Set those by my desk. We're going to have company." Father Time stumbled to the far wall and slid part of the wall aside, revealing a lever. He pulled it down, causing a beam of light to escape from the skylight. The light transformed into the aurora borealis, which fanned out over the skyline of Italy. He watched the lights dance, worry in his silvery irises. "Please hurry… please…" He shifted his gaze to the broken glass littering the floor. "I had better find out what that madman wanted with that magic, Manny." He rushed to the hourglass and started at the sand that was still falling inside. "If I couldn't protect it this round, I'm not letting Pitch use another grain."