Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, wandered throughout cities, bringing nightmares to children. He enjoyed hearing the terrified screams of children. It brought him joy.

While visiting one of his favorite children to create a terrifying nightmare, he heard a music box playing. An old memory came to him, that tune from a song from long ago. A faded, tiny voice singing. A twirling of of a small body with black hair. A little girl giggling. Her calls echoing.

**********

Flashback

Emily Jane Pitchiner yawned as she felt herself awaken. She last remembered sleeping in her Papa's arms. She felt so safe after that terrible nightmare last night. Her Papa held her all night until she fell asleep, promising to protect her from the bad dreams. The General felt Emily stir and woke up. He gave her a gentle hug.

"Shall we have the help bring breakfast to us?" he asked her.

"Oh yes, please, Papa!" the child said with a big grin. "I like eating with you."

When they ordered their breakfast, they sat together. The child munching happily away at her favorite meal. She looked at her father with wide green eyes.

"What are you doing today, Papa?" she said. "Maybe we could walk in the garden after breakfast. I'd like to see the lilacs. Many of the butterflies go to the sweetest flowers."

"We can do that, Emmy," he said, sipping his tea.

To see his daughter happy both made him happy and sent a pain through his heart. He didn't want to have to spoil the whole morning by telling her he must leave after lunch. The Tsar had another mission for him and his Golden Army. Despite that he hated leaving, he had orders to follow like a trained soldier. His life was devoted to serving and protecting.

"I can't wait to spend the whole day with you, Papa. We can do all the stuff I have planned for today."

She talked while eating her breakfast; crumbs and pieces of egg fell from her mouth on her nightgown.

The General raised his eyebrows in amazement. "The whole day? What do you have planned, Princess?"

"First, we'll chase the butterflies, smell the flowers, then we'll have a picnic and read underneath the magnolia tree. Then, we'll watch the clouds and point out the shapes. Then at dark, we'll watch the fireflies and look for shooting stars and make wishes," the child spoke, getting more excited as she spoke.

He froze with wide eyes. How he wished he could do all that stuff for his beloved daughter. But he had better break the news sooner or later.

"Emmy, perhaps we can choose a few of those things?" he said. "Well...I am sorry to say, Princess, but we will have to save the fireflies and stars for some other night..."

The child frowned. "What do you mean, Papa?" she said.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Emmy...but I must leave after lunch."

The child dropped her breakfast on the plate, frowning deeply. She wasn't happy that her father had to go away again. It wasn't fair.

"But you just got back!" she whined, pouting.

"Emmy, please don't whine..." the General said placating.

The child continued to sulk. "For how long?" she asked.

"I have been after a particular pirate. He is rumored to be in port. I...I will be gone until he's caught."

"That seems like forever, Papa," Emily said. "Who is this pirate you're after?"

"He's called Dread."

"He must be a scary pirate. He probably sails among the stars in his black ship with black sails with all this crew, who look just as scary as him."

Pitchiner chuckled as he listened to his daughter. She had such a great imagination. He admired her for that.

"He is indeed frightening. Do you want to know a secret, Emmy? It makes your Papa shudder to think of seeing him, he's that terrifying. Please, let us keep the fact that that I am going after him and his crew between you and I. It would upset your mum."

"OK, Papa," she said. "As long as you come back alive and well. C'mon, papa! I'll go get dressed and we can do some of the stuff before you go. I'll bring my butterfly, Jewel: she'll like seeing the gardens."

He gave her a hug. "Go get dressed and get Jewel, alright?"

Nodding, she hopped off her Papa's lap and disappeared to her bedroom. Lady Pitchiner appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, dear husband," she said solemnly.

"M'lady. How does the morning find you?" the General spoke, turning his attention to his wife.

She was a handsome woman with her black hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her dress was a dull gray. She was prim and proper. She made sure Emily would turn out to be a fine young lady despite she had a distaste of her running wild and she was impossible to tame. Pitchiner respected his wife to train his daughter to be a lady, but he liked Emily just the way she was.

"Very well, dear husband," she said. "And you?"

"With a heavy heart...I had to tell Emily I had to leave after lunch."

"She didn't take it too well, dear husband?" she said.

"She doesn't like it when I am gone. I know that. But she seemed to take it well."

"That's good to hear," she said, nodding with approval. "Did she make any plans with you?"

"She did. I had better go and meet up with her" The General kissed his wife on the cheek.

"For your sake," Lady Pitchiner said. "I'll allow her to skip her lessons to spend time with you. It's the least I can do for a daughter who won't see her father for a long time, I presume."

"This mission won't be easy, m'lady. But I shall do my best to come home safe to you."

The General's wife smiled approvingly, keeping her feelings concealed at the fact her husband had a dangerous job. It was tough, raising a daughter alone while her beloved husband went out, sacrificing his time with his family and following orders by the Tsar. She hoped this would be his last mission.

Soon, Emily was dressed and groomed by her maids. She skipped out of her room to join her father, holding her beloved Jewel, a toy butterfly that he had given to her from his last trip. She wore his favorite color: a green dress that he liked seeing her in.

"I'm ready, papa!" she said, showing him her toy, giving him a twirl.

"And you look lovely" he declared with a smile. "Shall we take Jewel to visit the garden?"

"Yes, Papa!" she said, smiling.

She took her Papa's hand, leading him towards the gardens; her black hair bounced as she pulled him along.

"What do you wish to show Jewel first?" he asked.

"The roses," she said. "They're the largest and the most beautiful flower of all."

Emily held the butterfly, holding it above her head, making it look like it was flying. She imitated the whooshing of the wind and the flapping of her wings.

"This is the garden, Jewel," she said. "Where all the bees and butterflies come to drink from the flowers."

The General stood back, watching his daughter. He smiled, feeling proud. His daughter was so bright. She had a grand future in front of her as well. There had been many springs that he had missed the flowers blooming. He sighed. He loved his daughter so much that it pained him to leave again.

"And here is the roses," she said. "The biggest and most beautiful flowers. They are all colors-red, pink, yellow, and white. They all mean something, especially when you give them to someone."

She told her butterfly what each of the flowers colors meant. She made her butterfly land on the rose to have a drink from them, getting covered in pollen.

"Jewel says the roses nectar is delicious, Papa," said Emily.

"Butterflies do love the roses best..."

"They sure do," said Emily. "They also love lilies, Papa. They smell so beautiful-even in the spring time."

"Aye."

Emily continued to skip through the garden, singing. Her mother was giving her lessons.

Lavender's blue,
Dilly dilly
Lavender's green
When I am Queen,
Dilly dilly
You shall be queen

Pitchiner listened to his daughter sing. She had a lovely voice, like her mother. He joined in with his silky baritone.

Who told you so?
Dilly dilly
Who told you so?"

Emily giggled. She liked it when her Papa sang. She sang with him.

I told myself
Dilly dilly
I told me so

When I am Queen
Dilly dilly
You'll be my King

The General lifted her in the air and spun her around. Giggles burst from the little girl.

"You know I would never leave you if I didn't have to," he confessed to her. "If I had a choice, I would stay home with you and your mother."

Emily nodded, looking at her father. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Maybe when you come back," said Emily. "I'll give you something that you can take with you so I can be with you all the time."

"I would love that, Princess."

"Maybe Mama will take me shopping after you go," she said. "Will you write to me while you're gone?"

"Of course I will. And you know your mama will be up for shopping with you. She adores you like I do."

Emily nodded, but was still frowning.

"Why is she so strict with me, Papa?" said Emily. "Sometimes I feel she doesn't like it when I want to do stuff I like."

"She wants what is best for you. To grow up to be a proper young lady. To marry well and to raise a family."

Emily made a disgusted face. "I'm never getting married!" she said determined. "I'm going to be a pirate queen, sailing on my ship and fighting the dream pirates. Like my Papa."

She raised her arm up in the air, pretending to be holding a sword and swung it around, making pirate noises. Pitchiner laughed as he watched in amusement.

"I am honored, Princess. But you will eventually fall in love. And that will lead to a family of your own."

She shrugged. "Maybe I will...maybe I won't," she said. "How much time do we have until you go, Papa?"

"I must leave as soon after lunch as I can."

She nodded. "Let's have a picnic then," she said. "That way we can have lunch together before you go."

"An excellent idea," he smiled. "Shall I let the kitchen help know?"

"Yes, Papa!" she said. "We'll make ham and cheese sandwiches. Then delicious strawberry tarts and peppermint tea."

He nodded and rang the bell that connected the garden to the kitchen. A servant came out and the General gave the order for the picnic.

"As you wish, milord," said the servant.

"And bring out a blanket as well," said Emily.

"As you wish, milady."

The servant brought out the picnic lunch and a blanket out to his master and the young miss. He spread the blanket on the ground in a spot that he was certain was perfect for them.

"Lunch is served, milord," said the servant.

"Papa, do you have tea with the Golden Army?" she said. "What are they like?"

"I do have tea with them. They are just like the rest of us believe it or not. They all have dreams, goals, expectations and fears."

"Wow!" said Emily fascinated. "That's amazing that even the bravest soldiers of the Golden Army have all that. I wish I could meet them."

"Perhaps someday you will, my dear."

"Are there women in the Golden Army?" she asked.

"There haven't been any yet."

"Oh," said Emily, her face falling in disappointment. "Well, I'm going to be the first! No more being a lady-I'll wear the famous Golden Army armor and fight alongside with my fellow comrades with my Papa by my side."

"I would love that, princess...but what about your mother?"

Emily frowned. "Oh right," she said, looking disappointed. "But if you see the Tsar, do tell him that women can fight as well as men. I think he might like it."

"My Lord," said a servant. "It is time. Your carriage is here."

The General nodded to the servant. "I'm sorry Emily, I must go... But I shall talk to the Tsar about women in the Golden army. He's a reasonable man."

Emily looked at her Papa one last time. She hugged him tightly as she could.

"Goodbye, Papa," she said. "Please write and think of me."

She kissed him on the cheek, giving him one last farewell. He didn't want to let her go. When he finally did, a lump formed in is throat. He pushed it aside as a feeling of already missing her.

PRESENT DAY
In a nearby garden, Pitch phased through the shadows, watching Mother Nature doing her work, growing plants, planning the weather for the week, and so forth.

Sighing, she moved a strand of black hair aside, pleased at the way the garden looked. Feeling sad, she looked up at the moon, wondering where her father was. If he would ever come back. The memory of hearing that her father was dead from one of the Tsar's Golden Soldiers devastated her. She refused to believe her father was dead. He had to be out there somewhere.

Pitch sighed, watching the little girl that had grown up into a beautiful woman. He felt proud of her as he watched her from a distance, growing up into a fine young woman. True to her word, she was quite independent and free-spirited. Yet there was a loneliness about her. He promised to watch over her, wishing he could send her something beautiful and yet knowing full well he couldn't. He heard her humming the tune as she was continuing to grow more plants.

Mother Nature sang in a soft tune of a silver soprano, thinking of a fond tune she loved to sing with her Papa:

Lavender's blue, dilly dilly
Lavender's green
When I am Queen, dilly dilly
You shall be my King

Pitch joined in, singing quietly; his baritone voice carrying with the wind.

Who told you so?
Dilly dilly
Who told you so?

The nature spirit turned her head, hearing something; her black hair whipping her face. Her green eyes narrowed as she looked around.

"Is someone there?" she called.

The Bogeyman remained silent. He couldn't face his daughter. Not ever. He was a monster who thrived on the fears of children. She wouldn't understand. Every day he could picture himself meeting her for the first time in years: the fear on her face when she beheld his new form. Her rejection of him. He was certain she'd be angry at him for not keeping his promise when he left for the last time.

Mother Nature shook her head, shrugging. She was probably just hearing voices. Maybe a distant memory that time she and her Papa would sing that song together when she was little. She'd always imagine that he'd be close by and he'd come back, hugging her. After thousands of years waiting, she figured he was long gone at this point. Yet she still thought of him every day. She looked up at the stars with a sigh, closing her eyes and imagining her Papa was out there somewhere.

"I love you Papa," the spirit of nature whispered, looking up at the stars.

Pitch could only smile as he heard those words.

"I love you too, Princess," he whispered.