Shades of the Past

by Krondure

Summary:

Ripped forward through time at the peak of Mt Agate and reborn anew Darkstalker, now reincarnated as Shadehunter, must make do without his magic or foresight. Can he overcome the sins of his past and start again or is he bound to a cycle of repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

Notes:

• Inspired by the fathomless dark by SaltiestFurriestAlter

"the fathomless dark" by SaltiestFurriestAlter came up with the original concept of a reincarnated Darkstalker and Fathom and you should totally check it out, but this is going to be pretty different from theirs.

Chapter 1: Emergence

Darkstalker awoke to a primordial darkness so deep even his Nightwing-gifted eyesight couldn't pierce it. He was trapped somewhere, he knew that much. Trying to move his limbs more than an inch only amounted to them brushing up against a hard unyielding wall but for some reason Darkstalker's body didn’t seem to panic at the notion. It was as though being held within such a suffocating prison was the most natural thing in the world. His thoughts were coming slower to, they were less defined than usual and when Darkstalker tried to remember how he ended up here all he could bring up from the recesses of his mind was an image of Clearsight, a moonstone bracelet, the words Good-bye, my dearest love and a flood of rage, betrayal and deep profound sadness.

 

Turning his focus away from his body and immediate surroundings Darkstalker attempted to tap into his foresight, a gift he never pushed to its full potential but still cherished as a part of his birthright, only to be met with nothing. No bright futures of happiness and joy as he received everything he desired and deserved, no dark futures where everything he built was laid to death and ruin and he stayed trapped here for all eternity. Not even the mundane ones where he simply lived a boring and uneventful life. It was as though that part of himself had been surgically removed. Where once he could reach out to it with ease, now there only remained the scar of its absence. This more than anything caused Darkstalker to panic for not only was he trapped and alone but someone had taken a fundamental part of his being and stolen it from him. In his sudden fear Darkstalker thrashed and flailed blindly at the walls that surrounded him in a desperate attempt to escape this horrible strange reality he had awoken to.

 

As if in response to his movements Darkstalker sensed someone’s thoughts turn to him. Their mind was filled with fear and worry but underneath those surface level thoughts was a love that was reserved for him that was achingly familiar to one he knew so long ago. One he was so desperate to have again. Diving into the respite her mind provided, Darkstalker sensed that this stranger was looking down at a rustling egg that was nestled neatly in a satchel below her neck. The dragoness let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the egg settle down and continued walking toward a moonlit meadow where another egg laid cushioned in a nest of leaves. Upon the dragoness’ resumed forward motion Darkstalker felt his own prison shift, his body being consistently and softly jostled.

 

How can this be? I know I’m not fully grown but to move both me and my prison so easily should not be possible without magic unless… Darkstalker thought in dawning horror at the possibility of what might have happened to him.

 

Honing his focus into the dragoness’ mind Darkstalker once again slammed against the walls of his cell with all the force he could muster. Just as he feared, the dragoness looked down at her egg, his egg he realised with shock, as it moved yet again and she picked up her pace as her thoughts echoed. It’s restless. I’ll need to hurry if I want to make it to the clearing in time. I’d hate for either of them to hatch alone.

 

By all the shadows of the night. Darkstalker pondered mournfully. Somehow Darkstalker, the thrice-moon borne animus destined for greatness and power, had been reduced to nothing more than a simple mind-reading dragonet not even hatched out of the egg. Perhaps not all hope had been lost though. With how completely he had been transformed, maybe the ruins of his shattered foresight contained the vestiges of his once sealed magic.

 

I enchant myself to regain the powers of the three moons! Darkstalker thought with all the will he still retained in, what he now realised was, his much smaller and weaker body but no power ran through him. There was not a single hint of that delectable chill that would run through his body when he successfully cast a spell and when he reached out for his futures yet again, Darkstalker was met with nothing but the empty darkness that laid beneath his eyelids.

 

Moonfire and star vomit of course it couldn’t be that easy. Darkstalker cursed, desperately cloaking himself in a thin veil of anger to stave off the rising waves of despondency and fear at his own helplessness. How could this even happen? I enchanted myself to be immune to all magic from other animus dragons for this exact reason. The only exception to that rule was…

 

Fathom. That snivelling mouse of a dragon who was more scared of his magic than anything else in the world. Darkstalker had tried for months and months to get Fathom over his idiotic fear of the blessing that his magic was and the Nightwing had never even made a dent in the Seawing’s resolve. Darkstalker had had so many visions of the great things they could have done together if Fathom had just been willing to try. It was why Darkstalker had made an exception for him in his immunity spell in the first place. Darkstalker had trusted Fathom implicitly and that trust was rewarded with the Seawing betraying not only Darkstalker but also his sacred oath to never use magic again.

 

From the corner of his eye a hint of moonlight breached the shell of his egg, the first visible change Darkstalker had seen since he had woken up, and broke off his bitter ruminations. Focusing back on the mind of the dragoness who Darkstalker realised must be the mother of his egg, Darkstalker saw that they had reached their destination. The clearing she had chosen was well picked; the strange trees Darkstalker didn’t recognise were hemmed in together close enough to form a natural wall from any prospective predators but the canopy was still thin enough to let in the moonlight that's so valuable to Nightwing eggs. Warmth brushed Darkstalker’s sides as the dragoness gently lifted his egg out of her pouch and into the leafy nest she had lovingly prepared for both him and the pearlescent egg that already laid there. Darkstalker was confused when he sensed a brief spark of fear from the dragoness at seeing that the other egg wasn’t black like she had thought it should be, a fear that multiplied when his own egg changed colour. It was a short lived flare however and it was quickly overrun by a fierce wave of protectiveness for the yet unhatched dragonets.

 

“There we are little one, it is safe to come out now that we’re away from that horrid place.” the dragoness whispered encouragingly, eyeing her eggs with adoration.

 

Taking her words as a sign and having had enough wallowing, Darkstalker renewed his struggles against the walls that surrounded him and strained with all his might to break free. The sound of cracks by his feet were encouraging and after refocusing all his efforts to where he felt the egg weakening Darkstalker's back talon finally broke free. After that initial break the rest of the egg fell away easily and just like that it was as though he had never been trapped in the first place. Looking upon his new body for the first time, Darkstalker was relieved to find that at least that had remained mostly unchanged apart from its size. His horns still held their signature twist, his wing claws were still sharp and serrated, and his scales were the same midnight black they had always been. Regrettably, he still had the stripe of white along the seam of his wing but at least they no longer radiated that horrible chill. Glancing at his surroundings with his own eyes told him nothing new. It was the same moon, same nest, and the same plants he had seen through the dragoness’ mind. Although now that he was outside of his egg, Darkstalker was able to notice that the air was much more humid than the air he was used to in the Night Queendom.

 

How strange, have the Nightwings moved while I’ve been asleep? Darkstalker mused before he was unceremoniously picked up and brought face to face with the dragoness who brought him here.

 

“I’m your mother, little one,” the dragoness whispered, her eyes filled with overflowing delight at the sight of him. “I’m going to call you Shadehunter. A mighty name for the mighty dragon you’ll grow up to be if you reach even half the size of your father.”

 

At the sound of her words Darkstalker felt two violently opposing things at once. Foeslayer is his mother and Darkstalker is his name and those are irrefutable facts. To deny them would be to deny a part of himself and nothing could make him do that. To accept this stranger as his mother and this new title as his name would be a betrayal of one of the people he loved the most in his life.

 

However, through no fault of her own, Darkstalker is still undeniably the one who emerged from her egg. It would be beyond cruel of him to deny this dragoness the joy of a dragonet’s love when it was the Seawing’s foul sorcery that placed him here. Who is he to reject the waves of love and joy he can hear bursting from her mind at the mere fact that he exists. Ever since he lost Foeslayer there had been an aching, bleeding hole in his chest and here was a dragoness who was seemingly able to soothe that wound for the first time. He would never forget Foeslayer but he had been forcibly changed into a freshly hatched dragonet, was almost powerless, lost, and had just been betrayed by both his lover and best friend. The culmination of all that had just happened to him finally caught up to Darkstalker and the crushing fear and loneliness he felt made him want nothing more than to hold onto any comfort he could find and never let go.

 

Barely holding back tears at his sorrow, Darkstalker closed his eyes and leaned in to nuzzle the dragoness before him, giving in to the desire to comfort and be comforted. The dragoness cooed with joy as she pulled him in tighter to her chest and Darkstalker sank into it, letting her love for him fill him up and placate his fear. They stayed like this for a while as Darkstalker tried to make sense of his muddied thoughts.

 

I guess Shadehunter isn’t a bad name and it’s not as though anyone would believe me if I tried to tell them otherwise. Darkstalker, now Shadehunter, thought nestling further into his caretaker’s arms. It will take time for me to regain enough strength to search for my scroll anyway so it wouldn’t hurt to accept her care and care for her in turn. Mother always did say I guarded my heart too jealously.

 

Having sorted out his feelings for now, Shadehunter felt the pull of sleep that had gone unnoticed while he was dealing with his conflicting emotions start to drag him down and he let a tiny yawn escape his mouth. Shadehunter was just about to drift off when he picked up the tell tale noise of an egg shell cracking. Perking up immediately, Shadehunter re-opened his eyes and lifted his neck to see above the arms that were encircling him.

 

Sat in the nest he had just vacated was a tiny green tinged dragonet with silver teardrop scales beside each of her eyes and a silver seer’s oval on her forehead. The dragonet looked up at her mother’s face and squeaked softly before shaking out her wings and standing up to investigate her surroundings. The dragonet didn’t seem to find any of it very impressive but stopped, seemingly in awe, when she spotted the two full moons glowing in the sky.

 

Wait, two full moons? Shadehunter thought in shocked indignation. Talons and teeth if I’d waited for just a bit longer until the clouds passed I could have at least saved some of my foresight!

 

Cursing his own impatience, Shadehunter leapt from his caretaker's arms to pace angrily about the forest floor. After a brief glimpse at her dragonet’s bid for independence, his caretaker swiftly held up her freshly hatched daughter to give her a better glimpse at the moons that had so caught her attention.

 

“Hello little one,” his caretaker whispered to the twice-moon borne dragonet with the same devotion she had so recently been showing him. “I’m going to call you Moonwatcher. You’re going to have the happiest life any dragon has ever had, and you’re going to live forever and ever, and the volcano will never have you.”

 

Moonwatcher squeaked again and leaned into her mother’s warmth, obviously delighted with the older Nightwing and deeply pleased to be enveloped in all the love the dragoness had for her. Shadehunter stamped down hard on the twinge of jealousy he felt at the show of familial affection. For the foreseeable future this was to be his sister and it would do him no good to be petty. Not to mention that it was ridiculous to be envious when he knows for a fact that dragoness loves him just as deeply.

 

His mind wandered briefly to Whiteout and where she might be, but he didn't feel too worried yet. The last he had seen of her she had been alive and Thoughtful had been looking after her. He doubted that she’d been caught up in whatever spell Fathom had concocted and so resolved to find her when he could but until then trusted that she could look after herself.

 

Returning his attention to the present, Shadehunter felt Moonwatcher’s mind fixate on him as she gazed at him curiously. Opening his mouth, Shadehunter tried to say hello but what came out was a rather squeaky sounding “Urk!”

 

Cute. came the thoughts of his caretaker at his rather undignified greeting and Shadehunter sent his fiercest glare her way for that comment but to his dismay his look only deepened her amusement with the dragonet.

 

Well, looks like speaking’s out until I get more used to this form. Shadehunter thought, already dreading what else he’d have to relearn as he aged before swiftly realising that he didn’t need words to speak. Not to Moonwatcher at least. Hello Moonwatcher, my name is Shadehunter.

 

Moonwatcher chirped with delight and wiggled her way out of her mothers claws to bound closer to the dragonet who seemed better able to communicate with her. Shadehunter let Moonwatcher investigate him to her heart’s content, sending waves of acceptance and joy to her mind at her curiosity. Shadehunter knew from experience that while his words wouldn’t be understood until she was older, emotions would work perfectly. Once her initial inspection was finished, Moonwatcher swiftly pounced on Shadehunter knocking him over with playful exuberance to which Shadehunter squawked indignantly and immediately fought back.

 

The two dragonets kicked and bit and wrestled and rolled but such things cannot last forever, especially for ones so young. Before long the two of them were tucked under the wing of their mother barely able to keep their eyes open as the purrs of the dragoness lulled them into slumber. In that cocoon of love and safety, Shadehunter almost felt content. Although he would eventually get back to his plots and schemes for now, he thought, maybe it would be okay to allow himself to enjoy the innocent love these two dragons had for him.

 

But just like the silence, any possible contentment that could have been had in that moment was shattered by the raspy shout of a new dragon. “SECRETKEEPER!”

 

His guardian, who Shadehunter now guessed must be named Secretkeeper, bolted upright as a sharp, acute fear for both herself and her dragonets flooded through her mind should this mysterious new dragon find them like this.

 

As fast as she stealthily could, Secretkeeper scooped up Moonwatcher and hid her in the darker shadows of the forest and under some thick shrubbery. Shadehunter was baffled by what was going on. The love he read from Secretkeeper’s mind for Moonwatcher was as pure and unfiltered as any he had ever seen, so why did she so suddenly wish to abandon her dragonet here? Moonwatcher was confused as well and squeaked out quietly in protest even as Secretkeeper pulled her talons out from underneath her daughter’s.

 

“No, I can’t stay.” Secretkeeper replied with pained certainty. “I’m sorry. You’ll be safer if I go.”

 

And at once, the riddle that Shadehunter was desperately trying to solve was answered from within the depths of Secretkeeper's mind. Terrifying images of a perpetually shrouded, ash choked island flashed through her mind; of sickly dragons and dragonets with horrible breath and even worse carrion that they ate unquestionably. It was somewhere that was so awful that even leaving her beloved daughter alone and afraid in the middle of the rainforest was better than taking her to.

 

Moonwatcher seemed to realise this as well, for when Secretkeeper held her face between her talons and uttered, “Stay secret. Stay hidden. Stay safe.” the dragonet backed further into the hollow and scratched leaves around herself.

 

With a start, Shadehunter realised that he would not be joining Moonwatcher. For Shadehunter saw that while Secretkeeper had managed to successfully hide Moonwatcher away, she had not been able to do the same with him. With the loss of her first egg, Secretkeeper and his egg had been kept under much closer scrutiny than before by both her tribemates and her mate. Even managing to sneak Shadehunter out here to hatch had been exceedingly difficult and only by utilising the full extent of what cunning and guile she possessed had Secretkeeper succeeded.

 

With one final look back at the tiny dragon shaped ball in the bushes, Secretkeeper steeled herself as she slipped both Shadehunter and his eggshell into her satchel before winging away. Away from the curious little dragonet Shadehunter found so surprisingly endearing. Away from that moment of peace where despite everything that had happened to him things seemed like they might turn out okay. Away from a clearing with clean air and fresh food.

 

For Secretkeeper and Shadehunter were always going to go back to the volcano.

Notes:

There we go Shadehunter has entered the chat. Do you like the name, I thought it was pretty clever because its similar to his original but if you just shorten it to Shade it acts as an allusion to his past life of which he is now a shade of, both in terms of figuratively being a "shade" of his former self and also by literally haunting the continent long after his supposed death.

Hopefully I'll actually finish this one, I've been fixating on Wings of Fire quite a bit recently so fingers crossed that'll be enough to get me to write more but I'm wildly inconsistent with when and how much I work on things. Anyway if you read all this thanks so much and feel free to comment, they feed the little gremlin in my head that likes to scream about dragons.

Chapter 2: Discoveries

It took an entire week before Shadehunter was brought to Morrowseer.

 

In that time Shadehunter found the volcano to be exactly as horrible as Secretkeeper’s mind promised it would be. The air was thick with ash and smoke leaving a constant cloud covering the sky and blotting out most of the light and warmth the sun and moons would have otherwise offered, not to mention the constant pungent scent the sulphur produced.

 

The dragons they passed on their way back to where Shadehunter’s egg was supposed to have hatched all looked thin and tired as though whatever excess energy they might otherwise have had was being spent just to keep their bodies functional in the oppressive air of their island home. Even within the privacy of their minds most every Nightwing seemed downtrodden and miserable, what few sparks of kindness Shadehunter could find were shrouded under the overlying malaise that enveloped their kingdom.

 

More time must have passed then I thought. Shadehunter mused as he laid down to rest in the pile of furs Secretkeeper had prepared for him. Even if the Nightwings fled here the moment Clearsight got that infernal bracelet on me things couldn’t have gotten this bad that quickly. Not to mention I haven’t recognised a single person here so far.

 

That seed of fear, that he might not only be in a completely different body but also, that he might be displaced in time as well planted itself in the recesses of his psyche but Shadehunter refused to entertain that possibility until he could be sure. Shaking off these new doubts and concentrating only on trying to get the rest his body desired, Shadehunter reassured himself I haven’t lost the future yet, I can still find Whiteout, revenge myself on Fathom for doing this to me and claim the future I know I deserve.

 

After that first evening the rest of Shadehunter’s week was rather uneventful and dreadfully boring. Secretkeeper’s den was a small shack on the outskirts of the island, as far away from the main vent of the volcano as she could have had it built without the ocean waves literally lapping at its walls. It appeared to be recently constructed and Shadehunter guessed that it was likely made for the express purpose of ensuring that he himself could grow up as healthily as he could while they were still confined to the island. Secretkeeper had decorated it simply with many soft furs and cushions along with other assorted essentials for dragonet care but much to Shadehunter’s frustration there was a distinct lack of scrolls available to him to snoop through within the den.

 

Most days passed with just him and Secretkeeper together in the hut with the older dragoness either scratching away at whatever work she had to do on a scroll or interacting with him. When the dragoness fawned over him and cuddled with him, Shadehunter would bear it with as much dignity as he could, although privately he did preen a little at the adoration, but he drew the line at engaging with the soft toys she obviously wanted him to play with. They ate far less often then Shadehunter was used to, usually only once a day but at least it seemed that Secretkeeper was an adept enough hunter to not bring in carrion that the other dragons on the island seemed to eat. While it left him almost constantly hungry, Shadehunter vastly preferred that to being sick. When Secretkeeper was out hunting she would hand him off to her friend Farsight who was nice enough although Shadehunter would have preferred to have some time alone to himself instead as being constantly watched was starting to grate on his nerves.

 

More than anything Shadehunter wanted to start gathering information but with his current limitations it was seemingly impossible for him to accomplish that. As he was now, Shadehunter’s vocal cords were too underdeveloped and his tongue far too unwieldy to recreate the more complicated gestures needed for complex speech so asking questions was out. Shadehunter would just sneak out with the hopes of finding a library in the fortress he could see in the distance but the path between there and Secretkeeper’s hut was littered with steep canyons and cliffs he couldn’t yet fly over. Not to mention how he had to sleep what felt like every other hour.

 

Theoretically Shadehunter could scrawl a message into the floor to ask his questions but a freshly hatched dragonet capable of reading and writing full sentences was bound to bring up questions he’d rather not answer when he was so vulnerable.

 

Secretkeeper’s mind offered some information, like the fact that there was a continent wide war going on, but her thoughts were mostly preoccupied with the mundanities of her job, some sort of aide he guessed, or her worries about him and much more often Moonwatcher. In all fairness, Shadehunter was also fairly worried about his fellow dragonet, a hatchling that young shouldn’t be on their own and it gave him no small sense of relief whenever Secretkeeper came back from a hunt with thoughts about Moonwatcher’s continued well being.

 

So when, at the end of the week, Secretkeeper was summoned away unexpectedly without having the time to call in Farsight to oversee him, Shadehunter rejoiced at having some time alone to try and figure out some of the finer intricacies of what had been done to him. Holding one of his talons to his forearm, Shadehunter grit his teeth as he pressed a claw in firm enough to pierce his scales.

 

Well that answers the invulnerability question. Shadehunter thought as he watched a drop of red blood bead the section he had pricked. At least I have real dragon’s blood now.

 

Mentally listing the other enchantments he had cast in his scroll as he paced back and forth, Shadehunter gleefully remembered one that would be perfect to test the specificities of the curse Fathom had placed on him.

 

Dagger, I summon you! Shadehunter commanded as he stared down at the space between his talons where he willed the short blade to appear.

 

With a small thunderclap at the rush of air that had been instantaneously displaced, a dagger clattered into existence in front of the dragonet. Joy rushed through him as Shadehunter picked up the weapon to examine it closer.

 

A bit rustier than usual but this is definitely the same dagger. Shadehunter deduced with a thrill of satisfaction in knowing that he hadn’t been changed so completely that his enchantments no longer recognised him as their owner. So the enchantments I placed on objects obviously still exist but not the ones I placed on myself directly? If only I had placed a summoning condition in my other enchantments.

 

Shadehunter sighed in relief at the confirmation for he had been mildly concerned that Fathom’s spell would have prevented his magic from returning to him even if his scroll had already been destroyed.

 

After looking at the dagger for a moment longer, Shadehunter swiftly pried open one of the looser floorboards to stash the weapon in, knowing full well it would raise unwanted suspicion if he left it out in the open. An astute move on his part, for mere moments after the floorboard was re-secured the door slammed open as Secretkeeper burst in.

 

“Shadehunter, come here. Your father has returned from the continent and it's time for you to meet him.” Secretkeeper stated, a line of tension running down her spine.

 

Shadehunter walked up to her as she requested and was promptly placed into her satchel as she dashed out the entrance and took flight.

 

The wind brushed Shadehunter’s face as they flew, the joy of being airborne after a week of lounging around the house combatted the rising smell of sulphur as they approached the fortress at the island’s centre. For someone who was supposed to be Secretkeeper’s mate this ‘Morrowseer’ caused an inordinate amount of worry in the dragoness’ mind although the concept of imperfect mates wasn’t exactly something Shadehunter was unfamiliar with.

 

After landing on one of the balconies Secretkeeper swept inside the building and immediately Shadehunter noticed how much more active the dragons inside were in comparison to when they first came through here. It was as though they were now expected to be working that much more efficiently then they had been before.

 

Is this because Morrowseer is back or is it just a coincidence? His name seems to be at the forefront of a lot of their minds but nobody has referred to him by any titles. Shadehunter questioned as they twisted through the tight turns of the corridor that snaked through the fortress.

 

All at once they reached their destination and Secretkeeper placed Shadehunter back onto the floor beside her as they stood in front of a door that looked more lavish than any of the others they had passed on the way.

 

“Now Shadehunter your father is a very important dragon so I need you to be on your best behaviour alright.” Secretkeeper explained with her head lowered to be right in front of Shadehunter’s in the hope that her body language would explain the seriousness of the situation where words might not.

 

Internally Shadehunter huffed at the condescension but simply closed his eyes and touched her snout with his before sitting up with all the posture Arctic had spent so many years trying to drill into him.

 

Secretkeeper smiled at the display before schooling her features back into a mask of trained neutrality and raising a talon up to strike the door.

 

“Enter.” announced a deep, gravely voice from behind the door and with that permission granted Secretkeeper made her way inside.

 

The dragon behind the door was perhaps one of the largest Shadehunter had ever seen. Morrowseer easily dwarfed Secretkeeper by more than three heads and was at least two times larger than her in terms of sheer muscle mass. His scales were a similar midnight black to Shadehunter’s but lacked that tinge of navy Shadehunter’s possessed. Most striking of all however were his eyes, those twin obsidian orbs wherein the only light that could be found was in the flickering of the flame they reflected. They were cold, clinical and spoke of a practical efficiency that could look upon a corpse filled battlefield and crowning coronation with an equal level of disinterest.

 

“Secretkeeper.” the behemoth uttered in a perfectly measured tone, showing neither pleasure or disdain but within his mind Shadekeeper could see there was a small glimmer of affection there.

 

“Morrowseer, you’ve returned.” Secretkeeper replied her voice resounding with cool professionalism that Shadehunter would’ve thought was reserved for colleges and not her one and only mate.

 

After their rather mundane greeting the two dragons merely stared at each other a moment both their minds ticking away wondering how and when the other was going to broach the topic of this meeting. And whilst the two stared each other down, Shadehunter tried to figure out how these two could possible be mates when even Arctic and Foeslayer had more chemistry than them but that’s when it hit him, These two aren’t mates, at least not in the romantic sense, this is a business arrangement.

 

Secretkeeper obviously wanted dragonets to love and care for, it was plain as day in the way her mind was lovingly worrying about him and Moon constantly but the volcano was a hard place to live, let alone raise a dragonet in. However, if you have power, or better yet find someone who does, your access to resources increases and so too does the chance of successfully rearing young ones. On the other talon, Morrowseer couldn’t seem to care less about the idea of raising younglings but everyone knows that without magic no-one lives forever and everyone needs an heir. But to get an heir you need a mate and preferably one you actually like, and it seemed that for Morrowseer, Secretkeeper fit that bill.

 

“I have, I see the whelp has hatched.” Morrowseer opened and turned his attention to Shadehunter and the dragonet only barely managed not to flinch. It’s smaller than I thought it would be, surely I was never that puny. It’s not quaking in fear though so maybe some of my gene’s made it through.

 

While Shadehunter was usually pretty good at staring down intimidating father figures it was significantly more unnerving when he lacked both his animus magic and future sight. Before, even when he was first hatched, he could hiss and sneer with all the impudence in the world safe in the knowledge that he could foresee exactly how rebellious he could get without actually pushing the older male to violence. Cursing Fathom once again for depriving him of his birthright, Shadehunter utilised the one tool he still did have and squared his shoulders and scowled to imitate the image that Morrowseer’s mind desired him to act like.

 

“Yes, I named him Shadehunter, I assume that’s fine with you?” Secretkeeper phrased it like a question but the set of her brow left no doubt that she would refuse to take no for answer. I’m sure it’s vicious enough to suit your obsession with Nightwings needing to be seen as ‘powerful and ruthless’.

 

“Yes, yes Shadehunter is fine enough.” Morrowseer affirmed dismissively all the while not taking his eyes off of Shadehunter leaving the dragonet feeling as though he was being dissected by Morrowseer’s gaze alone. “Has he been keeping his food down?”

 

“Y-yes he has, it's all been progressing very smoothly.” Secretkeeper stumbled for but a moment, having been caught off guard by the question, before she managed to recover. Sky serpents! I didn’t actually think he’d care enough to ask, moons please don't let him get suspicious.

 

“Really? Every other dragonet has had an adjustment period of at least three weeks before their body gains the correct antibodies.” Morrowseer probed in surprised disbelief, swinging his head back her way in case her body language betrayed something her words might otherwise be able to hide. “You have been feeding him properly, right Secretkeeper.”

 

At his continued interrogation Secretkeeper froze, Morrowseer’s flinty glare pinning her in place. Morrowseer sighed and pinched the bridge between his nose while Secretkeeper’s wings tightened defensively.

 

“Secretkeeper, you know we have to inoculate dragonets while they’re still freshly hatched. Mastermind clearly outlined that it was best to immunise them when they’re young and still have enough fat from their egg to sustain them, to delay is to risk him not adapting in time and starving to death when he no longer has that safety net.” Morrowseer argued with a chilled frustration as he sat up to his full height and levelled a disapproving frown at the dragoness. I’d expect such behaviour from Farsight, moon-y eyed dragonet lover that she is, but I thought you at least would be pragmatic about this Secretkeeper.

 

“Why does he even need to get used to eating such filth anyway, all the other tribes eat their prey fresh and you’ve seen how much healthier Deathbringer is compared to all the other dragonets his age.” Secretkeeper rebutted hotly, her shoulders flaring and her voice not faltering for even a second. If you think I’ll just cower when my dragonet’s health is on the line you have another thing coming.

 

“Then what will happen in the winters when our prey is so scarce that we have to limit hunts to once every two weeks. He will need to make every meal last as long as possible and he won’t be able to do that if he isn’t prepared now.” Morrowseer thundered on pacing back and forth behind his desk.

 

“Then just increase the amount of times we can hunt in the Rainforest! We know that the Rainwings are practically all herbivores, it’s not like they’re going to miss an extra boar or two!” Secretkeeper continued, the plumes of smoke emitting from her nostrils and quickly rising anger told Shadehunter this was likely a well trodden argument.

 

“If I make an exception for Shadehunter I must make an exception for everyone and I will not risk ruining our element of surprise if the Rainwings-” Morrowseer cut himself off when he saw Shadehunter’s quizzical expression and was reminded that there was someone else witnessing this argument. Forgot the youngling was there for a moment.

 

Taking a moment to recompose himself, Morrowseer let out a long breath that seemed to loosen his entire stance before resuming in a much softer tone, “Let us finish this conversation in private, no need for the whelp to overhear us bickering like old fools.”

 

For the first time since the conversation had started Secretkeeper was in complete agreement with Morrowseer and the guilt outpouring in her mind for yelling in front of her dragonet manifested in a pained grimace before she muttered softly, “Yes, lets.”

 

“Shadehunter, stay here. I’m leaving for a little while but I’ll be back soon.” Secretkeeper announced gently as she brushed a talon between his horns. And maybe this time I’ll finally manage to convince that stubborn lizard to prioritise something other than his precious schemes. Thank the stars I at least got Moonwatcher out.

 

With that the two dragon’s left Shadehunter alone for the second time that day although this time there was something much more promising within his grasp. For while Morrowseer’s office was painfully utilitarian and devoid of any decorations or knick-knacks save for a single rug behind his desk it did still have scrolls.

 

Finally, it's about time I learnt a little more about what’s going on. Shadehunter thought smugly as he approached the scroll rack that rested innocently alongside the wall. The majority of the scrolls on the bottom row were blank and waiting to be filled but after lifting himself up onto his hindlegs, Shadehunter was able to grab ahold of an armful that held various titles.

 

‘A Nightwing Guide to the Dragons of Pyrrhia’ don’t need that. ‘Status Report on Seawing Movements in the Diamond Spray Delta’ intriguing but a bit too niche for what I’m looking for. ‘A Brief Chronology of Important Events from the Time of the Scorching to Present Day’ now that’s more like it! Shadehunter crowed, gently unrolling the aforementioned scroll in front of him.

 

Skimming through the scroll rather quickly to get back to the present Shadehunter’s attention was arrested when he saw that the year 3000 A.S. was listed as Darkstalker’s Era.

 

Huh, very flattering of them to name a whole era after me but I’m not quite sure I have done enough to warrant that level of attention yet. Shadehunter attempted to joke to himself but all he could think about was the full half of the scroll that he hadn’t yet unravelled. Maybe the rest of the scroll is just a detailed analysis?

 

Deciding that delaying would only prolong his misery Shadehunter whipped open the rest of the scroll and looked for the most recent date only to stumble back in horror.

 

5000 A.S.!! It can’t be! Shadehunter denied vehemently but the numbers damningly stayed unchanged before his eyes.

 

All at once Shadehunter felt the evidence he’d been trying to deny come back to him at full force: the fact that he didn’t recognise a single person here, the surprise Secretkeeper showed at her eggs turning white in the moonlight, the very island he was standing on all pointed to the fact that he was well and truly in the future and the life he had once dreamed of having was so far gone he doubted that even animus magic could bring it back.

 

Whiteout is long dead and I will never get to help raise her dragonets. Mother stayed trapped in the clutches of Queen Diamond and probably died horribly all while wondering why I never came to save her. The entire Nightwing tribe is broken beyond recognition and trapped on an island that is slowly killing them. I have lost my entire world.

 

Feeling a sense of loss and loneliness so crushing that it would be lighter were he holding the entire continent on his back, Shadehunter wept.

Notes:

Had to rip the band-aid off eventually Shadehunter. At least you still have your fun magic knife (which canonically exists btw it just only featured for a single line), does that help? No? Sorry.

This chapter felt mostly like exposition but I did like exploring why the Nightwings eat the things they do in 'The Dark Secret' along with Morrowseer and Secretkeeper's relationship. If you got this far thanks for reading and feel free to comment, they feed the brain gremlins.

Chapter 3: Mundanity

In the two years that had passed since Shadehunter had hatched in that rainforest clearing, he still hadn’t gotten used to the taste of rotten meat. From its putrid smell to the insects that inevitably crawled their way into the infected prey, every single thing about it made Shadehunter want to wretch in disgust. But sadly Morrowseer had been unassailable in his belief that it was a necessity for him to be able to stomach such food and none of Secretkeeper’s arguments had been able to shift his stance on the matter. Those two weeks his body had taken to adapt to the bacteria laden carrion had been a special kind of torture and he had cursed Fathom every other minute for doing this to him.

 

Much to his relief, once he had proven that he could safely ingest such foods Morrowseer had stepped back and allowed Secretkeeper to resume giving him traditionally caught prey but every other month or so Morrowseer would test him to make sure he hadn’t lost his ‘strong Nightwing-given constitution’. Tests like the one that was currently in front of him in the form of a pungent goat carcass.

 

Under Morrowseer’s watchful eyes Shadehunter tore into it without complaint and kept all of the feelings of revulsion off of his face. There might not have been anything he could currently do to stop these tests but Shadehunter vehemently refused to give Morrowseer the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable they made him. Shadehunter could only thank the stars that he hadn’t been put on the hunting roster for the last week, it was always easier to pass these impromptu trials on an empty stomach. With a bitter aftertaste on his tongue, Shadehunter swallowed the final piece of his ‘meal’ and levied a bored and indifferent look Morrowseer’s way.

 

“I’m not sure why you still insist on these little inspections, Morrowseer. I would have thought the ‘great prophet’ of our tribe would have had better things to do than watch a dragonet eat.” Shadehunter taunted and barely stopped the smug smile that threatened to break onto his face when he saw Morrowseer’s eyebrow ridge twitch.

 

“Someone has to make sure you can last through the winter since apparently both you and your mother refuse to face reality.” Morrowseer retorted coldly. Insolent whelp. Bigtail told me he never eats the food they bring in during class but he certainly acts like he does in front of me.

 

“You wouldn’t have to bother if you gave up some of your own food. I’m pretty sure we could give everyone on the island an extra hunting day if you shared even half of what you eat.” Shadehunter argued with a glare.

 

“My work is far too important for me to be constrained by such restrictions. As our tribe’s primary agent I am constantly flying across the continent to enact our plans and if I am not seen as a bastion of strength to the tribes that I meet with they will see how desperate we truly are. Our negotiating power will plummet and we’ll be stuck on this accursed island for another twenty years.” Morrowseer defended with a growl as he loomed over the smaller dragonet. “Is that what you want, Shadehunter?”

 

“No.” Shadehunter replied as he dropped his gaze furiously biting his tongue from letting out any of the scathing remarks running through his head. Arguing further would be pointless in the face of Morrowseer's own certainty in his actions and Shadehunter wasn’t foolish enough to antagonise a dragon with so much power over him.

 

“Good, now I didn’t just call you in here to fight, I have some news for you.” Morrowseer announced, settling back into a slightly less intimidating stance.

 

“Oh? Have you finally recognised my excellence and you’re giving me leave for the mainland?” Shadehunter snarked, though his ears betrayed him as they perked with genuine interest. News? For me? Morrowseer hardly even acts like I exist unless it's one of his strictly scheduled ‘developmental assessments’ and now he’s delivering me a message personally?

 

“Hardly, although I’m sure that with your attitude you’ll get along swimmingly.” Morrowseer snorted at the audacity, the closest he ever came to genuine amusement. “I’ve arranged for you to start combat and stealth training with Deathbringer. He isn’t here often but when he is you will report to him after class for lessons.”

 

Shadehunter’s head whipped around to face Morrowseer in shock at what he heard. Deathbringer was infamous among the Nightwings: he was their tribe’s top assassin having taken out countless key generals on all sides of the war, a master of subterfuge, and the only dragon below the age of ten to have ever been granted permission to leave the island. Nightwing dragonets and dragons alike held both great respect and deep set jealousy for him, for while Deathbringer was a vital asset in prolonging the war he was also free from the volcano almost entirely.

 

“Whose neck did you have to wring to make that happen?” Shadehunter asked incredulously, honestly curious as to how Morrowseer had managed to secure any time at all from one of the busiest dragons in the tribe.

 

“No one’s. The arrogant fool complained that we had been working him too hard so when I brought his concerns to the Queen I made the humble suggestion that he should train up a successor to take over some of his duties and allow him his oh so precious ‘beauty sleep’.” Morrowseer spat with grim satisfaction Serves the insubordinate smarmy bastard right. To have the gall to complain while our tribe suffers. I can only hope none of his inadequacies rub off on Shadehunter.

 

“Well I can’t say I ever imagined myself as an assassin but training with him certainly sounds more interesting than being stuck listening to one of Mastermind’s post lesson lectures.” Shadehunter commented dryly, shaking out his wings at the thought of listening to the rambling scientist. “Was there anything else you had to tell me or was that all?”

 

“No, you’re free to go. Deathbringer will be waiting for you in cave B-3. Don’t be late.” Morrowseer dismissed curtly, already refocusing on the report he had been reading before Shadehunter had entered.

 

Slinking out of the office, Shadehunter felt his body instinctively relax once the door closed and he was free from the suffocating air that came from sharing a room with Morrowseer. While Morrowseer didn’t actively hate him like Arctic had, there was an expectation in his gaze that made Shadehunter’s scales crawl. An expectation that, from what Shadehunter had gathered, ended badly for dragons that failed to meet it.

 

Shaking off any lingering discomfort with a snap of his tail, Shadehunter focused on making his way to the classroom reserved for dragonets his age. The windowless fortress halls were dark and maze-like, the only light coming from the torches spaced intermittently on the walls, but for all its turns and twists the building itself wasn’t actually very large and in no time he had made his way to his destination.

 

Entering the room, Shaderhunter drew the occupants attention for a moment, clearly expecting their teacher, but soon lost it when they realised it was only their missing classmate. It was a simple space with a desk up front for their teacher laden with numerous scrolls and other miscellaneous paraphernalia and several long wooden tables for students to sit behind and work on.

 

“Hey Shadehunter, did you get lost on the way here or has all the fish you eat finally turned your brains to roe.” a dragonet near the back of the room joked, flipping his tail to the side to invite Shadehunter to the empty spot beside him.

 

Of all the dragonets on the island, Mightyclaws was perhaps his favourite. His scales were charcoal black everywhere except for his underbelly where they shifted to ash grey. Both his horns and claws were a uniquely light colour, almost silver and his eyes sparkled a rich sapphire blue. What Shadehunter found so endearing however was Mightyclaws stubborn refusal to succumb to misery. Sure he hated living on the volcano just as much as anyone but where everyone else was near constantly snappish, sarcastic and irritable Mightyclaws at least tried to stay positive.

 

“Hah, if only!” Shadehunter laughed as he settled down next to his friend. “No, Morrowseer just summoned me for a little ‘chat’.”

 

“That doesn’t happen often. What did you do that was bad enough for his haughtiness to be willing to waste some of his oh so precious time to scold you personally?” Mightyclaws questioned, eyes widened in curiosity. And is there any chance I’m going to be called in for a ‘chat’ with Morrowseer as well?

 

“Me, cause trouble? You must have confused me with somebody else.” Shadehunter objected with his best pho offended tone.

 

“You might be right. After all, if a dragonet breaks the rules and nobody is around to catch them then that doesn’t count as trouble at all does it.” Mightclaws amended with a grin.

 

“Now that might sound a little bit more like me.” Shadehunter agreed, a smile breaking onto his face in a reflection of Mightyclaws’ own.

 

The two dragonets shared a laugh both thinking about the many night flights that may or may not have involved some secret fish related midnight snacks. Those nights with the wind in his wings and his hunger for once fully sated, where he and his friend were far enough away from the island’s smog to actually breathe, were some of the fondest Shadehunter had had since he’d been cast forward in time. Teaching him how to hunt fish like a Seawing was one of the few things Shadehunter was still begrudgingly grateful to Fathom for.

 

“So if your dearest father hasn’t caught onto our escapades why did he want to talk to you?” Mightyclaws asked seriously this time with a slight tilt of his head.

 

Shadehunter hesitated for a moment before answering, Mightyclaws was one of the few who didn’t care about the fact that Morrowseer was his father he didn’t want to drive a wedge between them by telling him he was also going to be working with Deathbringer as well. No this isn’t something I can convincingly lie about and Mightyclaws isn’t that petty. I can trust him with this right?

 

“He wanted to inform me that as of this morning I’ve been assigned to Deathbringer as his apprentice. My first lesson starts today after class.” Shadehunter admitted, internally bracing himself for the reaction.

 

“Since when was Deathbringer on the lookout for a successor? He’s not even ten yet.” Mightyclaws wondered with surprise, admirably burying any jealousy under a confused facade. Why would Deathbringer pick Shadehunter of all dragons? They might not like each other that much but I’m sure he’ll inherit Morrowseer’s job eventually, he doesn’t need to be the next top assassin as well.

 

“He wasn’t. I think he got a bit too brash with Morrowseer and before you know it the Queen’s already been persuaded to order him to take me on.” Shadehunter explained with a wave of his talon in the hopes of mollifying any envy before it could set in. “I’m not entirely sure if this is a punishment for Deathbringer or Morrowseer’s next step in his plan to craft the ‘ultimate successor’.”

 

“Huh figures. Even the Queen’s top assassin can’t escape Morrowseer’s schemes forever.” Mightyclaws huffed out after a brief pause as he mulled over Shadehunter's explanation. Quickly regaining his signature he bumped Shadehunter with his wing playfully before adding. “After all, if Deathbringer was going to train anyone you know he’d choose me over you every day of the week.”

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tinyclaws.” Shadehunter quipped, enjoying the flicker of flame that escaped Mightclaws’ nostrils upon hearing his least favourite nick-name.

 

Before they could devolve into any further banter, the door swung open and their history teacher, Sharptalon, arrived, arms full of scrolls and glasses askew. “Alright class, settle down and open your scrolls. Today we will be going over how the Nightwing’s successfully mediated in the ‘War of the Valleys” circa 4235 A.S.”

 

With a final parting ‘smartass’ sent Shadehunter’s way, the two dragonets focused on the oncoming lecture.

 

~

 

Cave B-3 was a large unfurnished room with a small flat clearing in the middle surrounded by a forest of stalagmites and stalactites. Upon first glance it appeared completely empty, not a single assassin prodigy in sight but as Shadehunter stalked to the centre a thought from the depths of the shadows in the upper corner of the cave pinged into his head. So that's the hatchling I’ve been saddled with. For someone who is supposed to be Morrowseer’s dragonet he’s awfully scrawny.

 

Squinting his eyes in the hopes of increasing his chances of spotting the hidden dragon, Shadehunter peered to where he believed the thought had come from but even knowing Deathbringer was there he couldn’t spot anything other than stone and darkness.

 

“Deathbringer, I know you’re here. Will you come out, I promise I’m actually quite funny and charming once you get to know me?” Shadehunter ventured, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty room.

 

Surprise emanated from that same dark corner he first heard the thought from before the sound of wings unfurling and flapping towards him revealed the dragon he had come to see. Deathbringer was larger than most other Nightwings his age, he was nowhere near the colossal size of someone like Morrowseer, he was still only seven after all, but his frame was wide and his musculature was defined and healthy. Shadehunter felt a twinge of inadequacy as he looked at the handsome dark prussian blue dragon before him compared to his own slightly emaciated body. I used to look like that, before Fathom condemned me and my whole tribe to this place.

 

“So you’re Shadehunter. Colour me impressed, not many people can sense me when I don’t want them to. What gave me away?” Deathbringer inquired in a rich baritone. his question knocking Shadehunter out of his own self-conscious ruminations.

 

“Ah nothing did. I just kind of hoped that I wasn’t talking to the air and making a complete and utter fool of myself.” Shadehunter lied smoothly, putting on his best self deprecating smile.

 

“Hah! Well you certainly sounded confident enough to fool me and in this trade confidence is one of the many tools you’ll need to utilise if you don’t want to wind up dead.” Deathbringer reassured as he opened up a satchel he had stashed under his wing and unloaded its contents onto the floor between them.

 

Instead of the myriad of weapons, poisons, and traps Shadehunter had thought Deathbringer was going to train him with, the only thing that came out of the bag was a bundle of scrolls. Feeling thoroughly confused, Shadehunter looked up to Deathbringer expecting an explanation but the only thing he was met with was a smug look of satisfaction.

 

“Forgive me if I’m wrong but I thought you were supposed to be training me in combat and stealth? I don’t quite see how working with scrolls is going to help with either of those skills.” Shadehunter queried, sincerely hoping that he wouldn’t have to sit around and read even more scrolls after he’d just gotten out of a gruelling history lecture.

 

“Oh is that what Morrowseer told you to expect? Sorry to disappoint but that’s only one small part of many in my profession and I’m not going to waste my time training you how to kill if I don’t think you have the smarts to get away with it.” Deathbringer clarified, ending his sentence with a patronising tap on the tip on Shadehunter’s snout. It’s so much more fun being on this side of the conversation for once.

 

Wrinkling his nose in annoyance at the overfamiliar gesture, Shadehunter grabbed one of the scrolls and opened it up to reveal the title, ‘A Brief Overview of Desert Ecology and its Oases. By Araceli’. Sounds riveting

 

“And scrolls on geography of all things supposed to help me with that.” Shadehunter stated as he levelled Deathbringer a flat look, tone dripping with scepticism.

 

“You need to know the terrain your targets live in to hunt them effectively, let alone to traverse them safely yourself. What natural cover is available? Where is your target likely to travel to? What route will they take to get there? How can you use the environment to set up an ambush they won’t see coming?” Deathbringer rationalised quickly and efficiently, pacing with an oddly excited energy as though he had never had the chance to talk about this with anyone before. Nobody ever appreciates all the planning involved with my work. Dragon’s hear the word assassin and all they ever expect is some spineless rogue with no more brains than your average marauder.

 

“Okay, okay you’ve made your point oh wise one. The geography scroll is in fact important and not just a cruel trick to make me read even more after enduring an entire period with Sharptalon.” Shadehunter relented, talons raised in supplication.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone call me ‘wise’ before.” Deathbringer noted, resting his chin in a talon as though deep in thought. “Amusing, sure. Roguishly dashing, constantly. But wise? No, I think that’s definitely a first.”

 

“If it makes you so uncomfortable I could amend it to narcissistic instead.” Shadehunter sniped.

 

“Nope too late, I am now and forever your wise and knowledgeable mentor.” Deathbringer vowed, bringing a talon to his heart and assuming a pose of regal solemnity.

 

In spite of himself, Shadehunter laughed at the assassin’s antics and soon enough Deathbringer joined in with a giggle of his own. Shadehunter had expected Deathbringer to be as overly serious and pompous as almost every other drake on the island and was pleasantly surprised to be proved wrong.

 

“Well if I’m spending the rest of the afternoon with my snout stuck in a scroll what exactly are you going to be doing in the meantime?” Shadehunter pointed out as he settled down onto the floor to begin reading. “I doubt the Queen would be pleased to see you gallivanting about when you’re supposed to be teaching me.”

 

Upon hearing that, the older Nightwing sighed and picked up an inkwell and an empty scroll of his own before sitting down and beginning to write, his brow furrowing for the first time since Shadehunter had seen him.

“If you must know, I'm annotating some of my own missions to give you an example of how professionals work. You should be very grateful, you know, most of this information is highly confidential and, more importantly, I’ve always hated writing.” Deathbringer grumbled between the steady scratching sound of his claw brushing the parchment but before his mind turned fully to his work one last thought tinged with grief escaped. And if I can prepare you well enough you will never have to make the choice that I had to.

Notes:

Shadehunter has gained speaking privileges and he just won't stop talking, sassy boy that he is. Not too much happened this chapter but I wanted to give a bit of a window into Shadehunter's day to day life on the volcano (we will escape eventually I promise). Also Deathbringer is here and will be helpful in providing non-supremacist discourse. I read his winglet for research and he's pretty scarily competent when he's not falling head over heels for his target.

If you made it down here thanks for reading all my non-sense, as always if you're in the mood comments are appreciated.

Chapter 4: Fable

It was nearing the end of classes for the day, Mastermind was prattling on about something to do with boiling points or atomic density, and if Shadehunter had to sit in this classroom playing student for another ten minutes he thought it might actually drive him crazy.

 

Usually this wasn’t too much of a problem for Shadehunter. Sure re-learning subjects he had already been taught wasn’t the most riveting thing in the world but occasionally there would be new scientific theories that hadn’t existed 2000 years ago or changes within inter-tribal policy and culture that would be vital to memorise once he was able to travel the continent that would catch his interest. Or if he was really, truly, dreadfully bored, Shadehunter could completely check out and read the minds of his classmates for some light entertainment.

 

However, not even that would work for Shadehunter today because for the first time since he had been reborn, he felt somebody make an enchantment in his scroll.

 

Two and a half years and nothing, not a single enchantment but now, out of the blue, someone’s used it. Have they had it the whole time and just never bothered to properly utilise it? Do they understand the breadth of its power? Is it still taking bits of my soul like Clearsight and Fathom feared? Shadehunter spiralled endlessly into question after hypothetical question, the fear of what someone might be capable of doing when unsupervised with his power blindsided him completely.

 

A light nudge from Mightyclaws brought Shadehunter back to reality and he realised with surprise that he was shaking slightly and the paper he was supposed to be taking notes in had been pierced by the steel grip his talons had been crushing it with. Taking a moment to regain his composure, Shadehunter released the scroll, smoothing it out on his desk, and counted out ten deep breaths before turning to Mightyclaws and mouthing a silent ‘Thanks’. Mightyclaws returned with a ‘No problem’ but the way the dragonet kept glancing at Shadehunter out of the corner of his eye mirrored his thoughts of, What in the moons was that about?

 

Shadehunter tried to zone back into the lesson but his mind just kept running around in the same circles. It wasn’t that Shadehunter hadn’t worried about his scroll before but it had been more of a theoretical fear, something that was technically possible but without any visions telling him it was a real possibility it was easy to pretend that it simply wouldn’t happen. His scroll had always belonged to Shadehunter and would always belong to Shadehunter even if it currently wasn’t in his possession. It was an immutable fact of the universe. Shadehunter just had to wait until this blasted war was over then he would search the continent until he found it from wherever Fathom and Clearsight had stashed it all those years ago.

 

But with the confirmation that it had been used, that idea had been forcefully disproven and it was entirely possible that Shadehunter might never get his magic back again if whoever found his scroll was smart enough. Were they ambitious enough they could even take over the entire continent and there would be absolutely nothing Shadehunter could do to stop them. The only thing that kept Shadehunter calm was the fact that whoever currently possessed it was obviously hesitant to use it or otherwise the war would be over already.

 

Of course it could just be that this mystery dragon had only just found it now and soon they’ll start enchanting every other day. Shadehunter thought grimly and shook his head as if to deny the possibility. But until that happens I refuse to give up hope, this is just a setback nothing more.

 

More than anything Shadehunter wanted to move, to excise at least some of this nervous energy he had been so suddenly saddled with, his claws tap-tap-tapping on the desk and idly scratching in some notes just to give himself something to do. So when class was finally dismissed, Shadehunter eagerly packed up his belongings as fast as possible and was going to go out and stretch his wings for a good half hour before his way was blocked by a star-speckled wing with hints of burgundy.

 

“Fearless, what are you doing?” Shadehunter hissed impatiently, rising to his full stature to glower at the shorter dragonet.

 

Fearless gulped in time with the sharp spike of terror Shadehunter felt from her mind but she ultimately pushed through with a smile that only wavered slightly as she continued to bar the exit. C’mon Fearless, Shadehunter can be kinda scary but we’re still classmates.

 

“Whoa no need to bite my head off! I was just thinking ‘hey it's the end of the week and for the first time in forever Mastermind forgot to drown us in homework’ so why don’t we make the most of the opportunity and hang out as a whole class for once?” Fearless suggested gamely, shifting her gaze to pan over the rest of the room in open invitation and was met with various sounds of agreement.

 

On any other day Shadehunter would have happily joined in but he could feel the itch to move writhing beneath his scales and he didn’t need foresight to know that if he lounged around to sit and chat he’d end up saying or doing something unwise.

 

But, she was being nice and that doesn’t often happen here. Shadehunter noted as he adjusted his posture so he wasn’t leaning in quite so intimidatingly. It's not her fault she inadvertently chose the worst time to ask.

 

“Thanks for the invite Fearless truly, but I’m really not in the mood today sorry. Maybe some other time yeah?” Shadehunter said apologetically, his head lowered to make direct eye contact in a show of sincerity.

 

Fearless paused for a second seemingly considering whether or not to insist before ultimately surrendering and moving aside to let Shadehunter pass with a pang of resigned disappointment. That would have been the end of it had an obnoxious sounding voice not broken the silence before Shadehunter could leave the room.

 

“I don’t know why you bothered Fearless, you know what they say ‘like father like son.’” Swiftbite mocked, tail thumping the floor aggressively. Who’d want him around anyway. The spoiled brat doesn’t even eat with us in class, he probably gets special permission to hunt all he wants in the rainforest.

 

“I am nothing like my father.” Shadehunter asserted with a glare colder than ice, spines rattling and teeth bared as he barely pushed down the hot coals of anger that instinctively flared up at the insinuation and demanded he claw him in retribution.

 

“I don’t know, you’re currently being a complete and utter bore that refuses to let loose. Sounds like Morrowseer to me.” Mindreader threw in matter-of-factly, her disinterested tone hiding the enjoyment she found in seeing Shadehunter's offended reaction. I knew there was a fire buried under that sly act he puts on.

 

Feeling a little outnumbered, Shadehunter sent a desperate look to Mightyclaws that made the dragonet squirm uncomfortably for a moment before, to his shock, he heard the thought. Sorry Shadehunter.

 

“Look if you really don’t want to stick around no-one's going to blame you Shade, but it’d be way better if you did. You’re always so busy training or holed up in that ocean shack of yours. It wouldn’t hurt to just have some fun.” Mightyclaws pleaded, donning such an earnest expression that should really be outlawed for how hard it was to say no to. Please say yes Shade, you looked really freaked out before and I don’t think brooding on your own is going to help.

 

“Argh fine, alright, I guess I can stick around for a bit but can we please do something other than sit around puffing smoke at each other. Listening to Mastermind makes me want to fly until my wings fall off.” Shadehunter relented as he paced back inside, dutifully ignoring the relieved expression on Mightyclaws face.

 

“Well if you wanted something tiring…” Fearless paused, wings slightly flared as he drank up the suspense from his audience. “We could always play Darkstalker.”

 

Shadehunter frowned and if he hadn’t just made a whole show and dance about agreeing to stay, he would have walked right back out of the room. In the time that had passed Shadehunter’s old name had turned into something synonymous with an unstoppable monster. Were it just the Icewings who thought that he wouldn’t mind awfully much but the fact that his own tribe feared him to such an extent left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Shadehunter often wondered what Clearsight and Fathom had said to damn his name so thoroughly that it was still remembered for 2000 years. After he had made so many enchantments that had helped his people, weapons that saved countless lives in the war, an entire mountain range that ensured their homes would never be threatened, to have all his good deeds forgotten and thrown to the wayside was unbelievably frustrating. The only accurate information he had found in Nightwing scrolls was that he had created the Dreamvisitors, made himself immortal, was defeated by Fathom, and that he had killed his father. 

 

Ostensibly he was also the reason that the tribe had fled their homeland to come here but Shadehunter severely doubted that, especially due to the lack of scrolls that actually dated anywhere near the time period they were commenting on. The Nightwings knew Fathom had ‘defeated’ him after all so why would they stay on this comparatively small island if they knew he was no longer a threat. To stay in hiding would be a complete overreaction, not to mention functionally useless at keeping away from an animus dragon. 

 

It was much more likely that the Icewings had driven his tribe into seclusion. They were still in the height of a war when I was cast away and with no animus to oppose her Queen Diamond would have had no reason to limit her magic. Shadehunter had thought when he was originally reading up scrolls that claimed to accurately recount his old life. After all, that moons-blasted Icewing had already broken her oath to capture his mother so she clearly didn’t feel obligated to abide by her tribe’s foolish ‘only one animus gift for the tribe’ rule.

 

All that is to say, Shadehunter didn’t exactly feel thrilled about playing a glorified game of hide-and-seek that villainized his previous name so blatantly.

 

“Good idea, Shadehunter can be Darkstalker. It's the perfect role for him.” Swiftbite jeered with a look of disdain. Nightwing horns shouldn’t twist like that and nobody’s eyes should look that cold.

 

“Why thank you Swiftbite, I didn’t know you thought I was the most powerful dragon alive but I appreciate the compliment all the same.” Shadehunter smirked magnanimously, enjoying the chortles of laughter from the dragonets.

 

With an activity decided on the dragonets quickly started to make their way outside naturally falling into pairs as they drifted through the halls. Predictably, Shadehunter ended up next to Mightyclaws and would’ve started teasing him about last week's test scores if the mindreader didn’t notice his ears constantly twitching.

 

Why, out of everything that we could do, did Fearless pick this stupid game? What if the Darkstalker can hear us and kills us all for making a mockery of his name when he escapes. Mightyclaws worried, eyes scanning left and right as though an ancient animus was seconds away from leaping out of the shadows.

 

“Relax Mightyclaws, if the great and terrible ‘Darkstalker’ hasn’t come to eat your brain the last twenty times you played this game he’s not going to this time.” Shadehunter soothed, brushing his tail with Mightyclaws’ own.

 

“But what if he’s escaped since then and is just waiting for the right moment to return. Killing a bunch of dragonets who’re making fun of him sounds like the perfect way to make an entrance.” Mightyclaws bemoaned, his pupils slitting with nerves.

 

“‘Claws you’re catastrophizing. The scrolls only know of one dragon Darkstalker killed; everything else is just speculation. Even if he did return he wouldn’t murder a group of dragonets for playing a game.” Shadehunter reasoned with a roll of his eyes, bumping Mightyclaws a bit more firmly to physically knock him out of his spiralling.

 

“If you say so.” Mightyclaws surrendered, although the drag of his tail along the floor told Shadehunter that he didn’t really believe his friend. “How aren’t you scared of him? Everyone else on the island is at the very least wary of the legend.”

 

Well it would be pretty silly to be afraid of myself. Shadehunter thought with private amusement as they neared the exit. Stepping out into the light that filtered through the ever present blanket of ash, Shadehunter thought about how to answer in a way that Mightyclaws would actually listen to as the other dragonets took off.

 

“It’s like you said, he’s just a legend. All we know of the actual dragon himself is that he was powerful when he was alive and he was stopped before he could do anything of real consequence, good or bad. He’s not here now and that’s been true for over 2000 years. Why would I worry about ghost stories when we’ve got a literal volcano under our talons.” Shadehunter reasoned, gesturing with his wing to the lava fields that lined the eastern side of the island.

 

Mightyclaws seemed to chew on that for a moment, and while the fear didn’t completely leave his eyes his wings did lose their defensive tension. Shadehunter isn’t wrong that a lot more Nightwings have died to the volcano than they have to the Darkstalker recently. Not that my nightmares seem to care.

 

“Now go! I’ll find you first and we can take down the rest of the class together.” Shadehunter commanded with a nip at his tail before preempting the worry that was on the tip of his friend's tongue. “And if the others complain I’ll just say that I ‘enchanted you to hunt them down with me’.”

 

With a startled squawk Mightyclaws took off into the sky to the sound of Shadehunter’s cackling laughter at his unco-ordinated takeoff. Once he had given Mightyclaws the customary five minute head-start, Shadehunter untethered himself from the ground with a flap of his wings and let the sky swallow him whole.

 

~

 

After three hours of flying, sneaking, ambushing, and scuffling Shadehunter was positively and completely exhausted. In his old body he probably could have lasted twice as long but the ash and starvation had taken its toll. As he was now, Shadehunter’s wings and legs and lungs and every other muscle cried out for rest but at the very least his mind had settled from the scare this morning.

 

Even better, there hasn’t been a single new enchantment since the first one which means it’s almost certainly in the talons of someone who has had his scroll for a while and knows enough to not need to experiment. Shadehunter deduced as he landed just outside his house. Not ideal but not unsalvageable judging by the current lack of an unstoppable despot ruling the continent.

 

Pushing past the door took all his remaining willpower, and once he was inside Shadehunter dragged himself single mindedly to his bundle of furs before promptly collapsing with a rather undignified groan. Sweet moons please don’t let Deathbringer show up tomorrow.

 

Muffled laughter from across the room notified Shadehunter to Secretkeeper’s presence and he lifted his head to send a baleful glare in token protest at his suffering being used as her source of amusement. Just like all his previous attempts at looking menacing, it only made Secretkeeper laugh harder and Shadehunter resigned himself to stuffing his face in his favourite pelt to hide. When will he learn that trying to scowl when he’s buried in a mountain of blankets only makes him look more ridiculous.

 

“Welcome back Shadehunter. Big day?” Secretkeeper asked politely once she had her giggles under control but Shadehunter could still hear the smile in her voice.

 

Shadehunter spoke into his bed with what he thought was a clear enough answer and flopped onto his side to find a comfier position in the hopes his body would scream at him less.

 

“Shadehunter I don’t speak scavenger, you have to use words.” Secretkeeper tutted automatically as she continued to fill out the report she had been working on.

 

“I said, ‘yeah it was. We had Mastermind today so predictably only about half of the class was still awake by the end of it.’” Shadehunter grunted absentmindedly, already feeling kind of drowsy. “Then afterwards Fearless suggested we all hang out together. It was pretty fun, I got to ground Swiftbite’s snout into the dirt on my second turn of being Darkstalker.”

 

The sound of Secretkeeper’s scratching on her scroll stopped as she turned to look at him, perplexed, “Your turn of ‘being Darkstalker’? That’s not really a dragon you want to emulate Shadehunter.”

 

“It's just the name of the game we were playing, we weren’t trying to actually act like him. It's like hide and seek but you get to fight the dragons when you catch them.” Shadehunter snorted with a full body stretch.

 

Secretkeeper made a light hum of acknowledgement at Shadehunter’s answer and resumed filling out her scroll.

 

If there was anyone on the island Shadehunter respected it was Secretkeeper. She was smart, perceptive, and not so blindly loyal to the tribe that she wouldn’t risk breaking the rules if she thought it was the right thing to do. It had been years but it still brought a smile to Shadehunter’s face when Secretkeeper came back from a hunt with her mind full of Moonwatcher living healthily, free from the volcano the way all Nightwings should be.

 

Which was why even though Nightwings disapproving of who he used to be wasn’t a new concept there was still a little sting when he heard it so directly from Secretkeeper.

 

“Why do the Nightwings still fear him so much? Just because he was powerful doesn’t mean he was evil. Power protects as much as it hurts.” Shadehunter asked, ears pinned and claws kneading his blankets to keep the hurt from his voice. “The only bad thing we know for sure is that he killed one of his parents and every single Queen we've ever had has done the same. There have been hundreds of dragons who have done worse that don’t inspire anywhere near the level of terror that Darkstalker does.”

 

Hearing the seriousness in Shadehunter’s tone, Secretkeeper took off her claw-tip stylus and lifted her head to the ceiling in thought before she answered, “It isn’t his power that we fear Shadehunter. Fearing power would be the same as fearing the very flames that live in our lungs; it is meaningless to fear a tool. No, we fear Darkstalker not because of what he had but rather for what he lacked.”

 

Intrigued by an answer to his question that wasn’t steeped in paranoia or shallowly dismissed like it had been when he had asked so many other dragons before, Shadehunter gave Secretkeeper his full attention.

 

“As you pointed out before we don’t know much about the dragon, it all happened so long ago that we cannot even remember the location in which these events took place. What we do know with certainty however, is that Darkstalker murdered his father.” Secretkeeper explained gravely the cadence of her voice changing into one that spoke of a story told from generation to generation, a tale that had to be passed down for fear of what might happen if it was forgotten. “Without trial, challenge or royal decree Darkstalker summoned all the dark arts at his disposal and bade them kill his very own flesh and blood; and despite wielding the very same power his son possessed, Prince Arctic could do nothing but be torn apart in the wake of Darkstalker’s will. In so doing Darkstalker showed his fellow Nightwings that even though he possessed magic, mind-reading, foresight, and even immortality itself, he lacked the one thing that separates demons from dragons. Restraint. Ambition and power are all well and good but if you are willing to sacrifice anything and everything that gets in your way, from Queens, to friends, to family and lovers. If you hold yourself to no standard other than your own, then you can hardly call yourself a dragon at all. That is why we fear Darkstalker.”

 

Seemingly breaking out of the trance she’d inadvertently put herself into, Secretkeeper walked over and curled around Shadehunter like she used to when he was freshly hatched and laid her head on the floor in front of her dragonet’s.

 

“At the end of the day it's just a legend. Darkstalker might have had all the justification in the world to do what he did or he might have been a complete maniac whose myriad of crimes has been lost to time, we can’t know.” Secretkeeper continued in a whisper, her wing blanketing Shadehunter with all the love she felt for him in her mind. “But if nothing else we remember this: power is only worth as much as one can use it to help their fellow dragons, if the only one it serves is yourself it would be better to not have it at all.”

 

After that she fell silent and closed her eyes to sleep, leaving Shadehunter alone to ponder the implications of her words.

 

I know Clearsight and Fathom didn’t want me to kill Arctic but it was just ! He had betrayed the tribe that had gone to war to protect him and enchanted my sister as though she were nothing more than a pawn to trade for his own benefit. Everyone in the crowd agreed he deserved to die! Shadehunter justified but his thoughts drifted back to the look on Whiteout’s face when she told him where Clearsight had gone.

 

Whiteout who had never betrayed him. Whiteout who he had sacrificed the first piece of his soul for to make her happy. Whiteout who with all her eccentricities had loved him unconditionally and with boundless optimism had painted picture after picture of their family the way it could have been if the world was a nicer place. Whiteout who he loved with all his heart. Whiteout who for the first time in his entire life he had moved to tears.

 

With a troubled mind and a sense of unease roiling in his stomach, Shadehunter tried to put his thoughts to rest and sleep.

 

It did not come easily.

Notes:

A smidgen of introspection for you Shadehunter as a treat.

I really wrestled with how to write Secretkeeper's presentation of Darkstalker's legend but I think I'm happy with how it ended up. I wanted it to contain a simple moral lesson without getting bogged down in the details and I'm pretty sure it made sense. Anyway as always thanks for reading and commenting the warm reception this fic has been getting is really heartwarming. :))

Chapter 5: Indecision

The past two months passed with more chaos than Shadehunter had seen in the last three and a half years on the volcano combined. A whole flight of Nightwings had been sent out in a display of strength Shadehunter had been unsure his tribe still possessed, both the Seawings and Skywings had almost completely exited the war, and at the centre of it all the infamous ‘dragonets of destiny’ remained at large and unaccounted for. All except one of course. Lying across the room from Shadehunter slept none other than the failed hope of the Nightwings: Starflight.

 

Shadehunter had to say he wasn’t especially impressed by the supposed ‘dragonet of destiny’. Starflight was flighty at best and cowardly at worst but for all his frayed nerves the aforementioned dragonet was mightily clever. Within two days and with the barest scraps of information, Starflight had figured out the broad strokes of the Nightwing agenda that had been brewing for the past decade. Mastermind was predictably smug that his sacrificial lamb had grown to be so like him even if he lacked the ruthlessness that Morrowseer so desperately craved.

 

Staring at the ‘prophesied’ dragonet, Shadehunter found himself in desperate need of counsel. Shadehunter didn’t especially like his current tribe’s plan for the future; invading such a passive community unprovoked felt incorrect, unbecoming of a tribe he held so much pride in. But at the end of the night, Shadehunter’s tribe was weakened from their extended stay on the volcano and he wasn’t even talking about the loss of their moon-borne powers. The Nightwing tribe held a mere fraction of the strength they had once wielded when they initially waged war with the Icewings. In a direct confrontation with another tribe they would almost certainly be utterly trounced due to the awful conditions they’d suffered under for so long.

 

So, in spite of the underhanded nature of the current plan Shadehunter was willing to swallow his distaste of the tactics used if it provided a chance to offer refuge to his tribe when it was in such desperate need of healing.

 

Which brought Shadehunter to the dragonet that lay before him. Even a passing glance at the prophecy dragonet’s thoughts spelt out his treason. Starflight’s loyalties lay firmly with his fellow dragonets of destiny rather than his tribe, not that Shadehunter was overly surprised. From what he’d seen in Starflight’s mind they'd been raised as family. Why would Starflight care about the whims of a tribe he had no connection to over dragons he’d known his entire life. Morrowseer’s plan had been inadvertently doomed for years; placing so much faith on dragonets you don’t know and had little to no means of controlling was only ever bound to end in failure.

 

But that didn’t make the Nightwing useless. If nothing else the other dragonets of destiny valued him as their friend and with this ‘Glory’ now ascended to true Queen of the Rainwings, having a bargaining chip would be very valuable indeed. Only, Shadehunter wasn’t fully sure he wanted to put a stop to their little group either. Within the brief time they’d been gallivanting about the continent, they’d already done more to stop the war than anyone else had in the 18 year’s it’d been waging. Getting his tribe to safety was important but if the war was stopped Shadehunter could finally start making actual progress on searching for his scroll. Once he found it, saving his tribe would be easy. Or if that took too long, Shadehunter could simply ‘re-discover’ the Old Night Queendom, a new secret territory with the added benefit of a rather lethal anti-Icewing border. All without having to raise a talon against another tribe.

 

But that would only happen if these destiny dragonets actually managed to put a stop to the war and Shadehunter didn’t know how comfortable he felt in putting that much trust in a group of dragonets he didn’t know. Especially when the Nightwings were virtually guaranteed to succeed in taking the Rainforest with the element of surprise on their side.

 

With his thoughts running about in circles, Shadehunter broke off his stare and rose to his talons in the hope of finding the one dragon that might be able to answer his questions about what to do with the potential flight risk in their midst.

 

Stalking his way out of the dormitory, Shadehunter took flight and glided down to the lower caverns nestled near the bottom of the island’s canyons, their walls aglow with volcanic light. The air was dour and stiflingly hot due to their proximity to the lava, so it was no surprise that these specific caves were reserved for housing the tribe’s prisons.

 

“Oh how the mighty have fallen.” Shadehunter lamented playfully as he peered at Deathbringer through the bars of his cell.

 

Ears perking at the noise Deathbringer uncurled from the prone position he had laid down in and smiled upon seeing it was Shadehunter who greeted him.

 

“A trifling obstacle. I’m sure to escape eventually. This prison is naught more than a puzzle for my genius to contend with while I rest my weary bones.” Deathbringer boasted dramatically, talon lifted to his forehead in mock exhaustion. Four visitors in one day. It seems imprisonment hasn’t affected my popularity.

 

The two nightwings eyed each other, not maliciously but, with a measure of caution that was usually absent between the two of them.

 

“So did Morrowseer finally convince the Queen to issue sass as a jailable offence?” Shadehunter queried lightheartedly, easing into the conversation.

 

“Not quite. While my tongue remains as sharp as ever, it's within the bounds of failing to kill dashing damsels that our tribe finds so much trouble.” Deathbringer explained, the constant flicking of his tail was the only betrayal of his anxiety at being trapped. Thank the moons Princess Greatness is so fond of me. Death by lava really isn’t the way I want to go.

 

“For all your lessons in staying objective I wouldn’t have thought you’d start calling your targets ‘damsels’. I know you’ve had some unconventional approaches to ‘eliminating’ targets in the past but I didn’t think flirting them to death was one of them.” Shadehunter pointed out matter-of-factly, thinking back on the many missions Deathbringer had managed to complete without killing his targets.

 

That Deathbringer so often found non-lethal solutions to the orders he was given was Morrowseer’s least favourite aspect of the assassin but the results spoke for themselves. In spite of his creative methods Deathbringer was still by far the most efficient agent in the tribe and so long as he completed his objective there was nothing Morrowseer could do to him. Until now that is. 

 

“Yes well it's a bit harder to retain my professionalism in the face of a six year old dragonet when compared to the wizened, bloodstained generals that I’m usually tasked with.” rationalised Deathbringer, lifting his snout so obnoxiously it was as though he was daring Shadehunter to object. “And I’ll have you know I didn’t realise I was flirting with her initially. I just thought she was some random Icewing until I spotted her with Blaze.”

 

Shadehunter stuck his tongue out in distaste, “An Icewing, really? I could forgive you trying to woo a Rainwing but to attempt to seduce one of those frozen porcupines is a step too far. Have some tribal pride my friend.”

 

Upon seeing the overly affronted expression on Shadehunter’s face Deathbringer let loose a laugh and soon enough Shadehunter donned a smirk of his own. The moment of amusement didn’t last long however and soon enough Deathbringer looked at Shadehunter with a more calculating gaze.

 

“What are you really here for Shadehunter? I appreciate the levity but I doubt you came to visit me in the middle of the night just to chat.” Deathbringer cut through the lighthearted atmosphere with all the efficiency of a knife through tissue. I know we always joked about how much we disliked the tribe’s plans but this is the first time I’ve blatantly dis-obeyed orders. Shadehunter’s a friend but treason isn’t something to be taken lightly.

 

With a grimace Shadehunter fiddled with his claws while he tried to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to ask. I should have known Deathbringer would be able to see through me. He wouldn’t have lived this long if he wasn’t perceptive.  

 

“I need some advice.” Shadehunter blurted the first thing to come to mind, not wanting to linger in silence and risk raising Deathbringer’s guard up any further.

 

At his clumsy blunder Deathbringer loosened his suspicions a little. Shadehunter’s rare show of inelegance reminded the assassin that the dragonet in front of him in spite of his father was just that, a dragonet.

 

With the folding of his forearms, Deathbringer answered, “I’m all ears, my dearest apprentice. There’s little else I can offer from here.”

 

“Look, I know you helped the Rainwing escape.” Shadehunter started, shedding all pretences and cutting to the heart of the matter in the hopes of attaining a more honest answer.

 

“While I appreciate your confidence in my abilities-” Deathbringer began before getting abruptly cut off by Shadehunter.

 

“Do you really want to bother trying to lie to me, Deathbringer? I’ve been training with you for a year and a half and despite all your exaggerated boasting you’ve succeeded in almost every mission you’ve been sent on. Do you think I’d believe you couldn’t take out a single unguarded dragonet roaming the continent?” Shadehunter laid out with such unfaltering certainty that the assassin didn’t even bother to try and argue back.

 

“If nothing else your faith in me is gratifying.” Deathbringer muttered to himself before lowering his voice to ensure no-one else could eavesdrop on their conversation. “Now, hypothetically, if I did happen to help out the dragonets of destiny, what does that have to do with this piece of advice you’re seeking from me?”

 

“I need to know if you trust them to actually be capable of stopping the war.” Shadehunter stated bluntly causing Deathbringer to tilt his head in curiosity.

 

“Really, since when did you care? You never showed much concern for the other tribes before, and it's not like the war ending is going to help us get away from the volcano.” probed Deathbringer, genuine surprise infecting his tone at Shadehunter’s uncharacteristic question.

“That’s because now, I think I know where the old Night Queendom is.” Shadehunter explained with a conspiratorial lean.

 

“Oh, so after two thousand years a dragonet that’s never even visited the continent thinks he can just guess where it is? You’re smart Shadehunter, but even you aren’t that good.” Deathbringer dismissed incredulously with a shake of his head. I’d love it if you were right, Shadehunter I really would.

 

“I may not have seen the continent but I’ve done my research.” Shadehunter insisted, spinning the lie out in his head before committing to it verbally. “We have records from Darkstalker’s era during the original Icewing-Nightwing conflict detailing accounts paid to Queen Scorpion to allow battleground rights within her domain. Rights specifically pertaining to the south-western coast of her territory. The only possible territory those rights would be relevant to is the ‘Talon Peninsula’ and I know that you know I’m right because you made me read all those incessant geography scrolls.”

 

Deathbringer took a moment to consider Shadehunter’s argument, eyes burrowing into the ground between his talons. He’s right that the desert does end that far south. The climate would be too cold for the Sandwings to be interested in claiming that territory and it's far too cut off from the Claws of the Clouds Mountain Range for the Skywings to bother.

 

Looking back up at Shadehunter with his brows furrowed in a much more serious expression, Deathbringer concluded, “Let’s say I believe you and by some miracle you actually found out where the old Night Queendom is. If you're right then why haven’t you told the Queen. I’m sure she’d love to know a piece of intel that valuable.”

 

“Because with the war going on it wouldn’t matter.” Shadehunter continued laying out the grim reasoning he himself had gone through over the many nights he had contemplated doing just what Deathbringer had suggested. “Our tribe wouldn’t be able to properly move there, the route between our island and the Talon Peninsula would be too heavily patrolled. Even using the rainforest tunnel would have been risky. Sure our more able bodied dragons might have been able to make it but our elders? Our hatchlings? Not a chance. And that’s not even considering how much harder it’d be while carrying all the supplies and tools we’d need to take with us.”

 

Shadehunter had often daydreamed of bringing this information to the Queen while hacking up lungfuls of ash. Of single handedly saving his tribe even without his magic. But the logistics just wouldn’t work out. Not with a war wracking the continent.

 

“Which is why I need to know whether or not you think Starflight and his merry band of dragonets can actually pull it off.” Shadehunter implored with a piercing look. “Starflight is Mastermind’s kid through and through, I’m sure he’s already figuring out a way to flee back to his friends so I need to know whether he’ll be more valuable as a rogue agent or a hostage.”

 

There it is. Most of the time it's so easy to forget he’s related to Morrowseer but every now and then that ruthlessness crops up. Deathbringer observed as he considered how best to answer Shadehunter’s question.

 

“If you want my honest answer: I’m not sure if they can. But what I do know is that the common soldier believes in them.” Deathbringer conferred confidently, his eyes shining with a hopeful gleam that was all but non-existent within the volcano’s inhabitants. “The Queens won’t come to heel at their call but they hold enough sway within the rabble to make the royals think twice should they put their influence to good use. The war has been waging for a long, bloody 18 years. Almost everyone is looking for a reason for it to end and all the propaganda we’ve seeded within the general public gives the dragonets the power to offer that reason.”

 

Deathbringer’s argument was sound and, as the only one between them who had actually seen the continent and the dragons within it in the last 2000 years, Shadehunter was inclined to believe the assassin. But it wasn’t exactly the firm vote of confidence Shadehunter was looking for either.

 

“So that’s a soft maybe then.” Shadehunter confirmed with a dis-satisfied huff, indignantly flicking a pebble as though it personally was causing his indecision.

 

“Neither of us can read the future Shadehunter, ‘maybe’ is all we ever get to work with most of the time.” Deathbringer tempered, his ears twitching at the click of the pebble hitting the wall. “But if you’re right about the whole old Night Queendom business it means there’s no need for the rainforest invasion and I think that’s worth the risk.”

 

Letting out a sigh and ignoring the unease rising in his gut at the prospect of leaving control of the future to someone else, Shadehunter answered, “Alright, alright I see your point. If you really think it will work out I’ll not put a stop to the inevitable escape plan Starflight is cooking up in my absence. But I won’t help him either. If he can successfully scheme his way back to the rainforest, that'll be proof enough that these dragonets might be savvy enough to end this war.”

 

With his main concerns put to rest, Shadehunter considered leaving to get some rest but his thoughts flickered back to the beginning of the conversation and the young mind-reader decided to have some fun before he left.

 

“So that Rainwing huh. She must’ve been something special for you to be whipped this bad.” Shadehunter prodded, expecting some sort of exaggerated but amusing quip in return.

 

Much to Shadehunter’s horror however, Deathbringer instead took on the most nauseatingly soft and dopey expression Shadehunter had ever seen on a dragon. Sweet moons, please don’t tell me I looked like that when I talked about Clearsight.

 

“Oh you mean the smart, funny, sarcastic, beautiful Rainwing Glory. Yeah I guess I think she’s pretty cool.” Deathbringer espoused dreamily with Shadehunter swiftly stuffing the assassin’s thoughts into a wave of their own to stop the onslaught of admiration from entering his mind.

 

“Actually you know what? Forget I asked.” Shadehunter shut down as he got to his talons to retreat.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear me talk about how great she is? I have a few sonnet’s I’ve been working on for when I next see her and I could use some feedback.” Deathbringer petitioned jokingly as he stuck his head out between the bars to follow Shadehunter’s exit.

 

“By all the snakes no! The volcano’s melting my brain enough as it is. I don't need your horrible poetry destroying what’s left.” Shadehunter shot back as he looked over his shoulder just before the cave entrance. “And while I know it might be hard, remember to at least try to keep your mouth shut Deathbringer. I’ll do my best to keep Morrowseer off your back but there’s only so much I can do.”

 

With that reminder Deathbringer gave a grateful nod and after giving one in return, Shadehunter left the caverns and took flight back to the dormitory.

 

With his course decided, Shadehunter stood by. When Starflight, Fatespeaker and the injured Skywing slunk off in the middle of the night he said nothing. Even when he felt the minds of invisible Rainwings making their way through the fortress he still said nothing. But for all of his planning, none of that mattered in the face of an exploding volcano.

Notes:

Phew took me a while to sort this one out. My chapter notes going in were basically, "Deathbringer convinces Shadehunter to let Starflight get away" and that was pretty much it. There was a specific point I wanted to briefly explore about how the nightwing-icewing tension affected why the Nightwings refused to use diplomacy but it just wasn't fitting in and it wasn't vitally import so oh well. Life goes on.

Also yay this is the last volcano chapter. Just like the Nightwings I'm sick of it, so I'm happy to be moving along. If you've made it all the way here thanks so much for reading and if you're in the mood to leave a comment they're always lovely to read! Otherwise have a good rest of your day :))

Chapter 6: Admission

Taking a deep breath, Shadehunter relished the delightfully rich and floral scented air just as much as when he had first burst through the tunnel. Over the sound of bustling dragons and shifting talonsteps a cacophony of birdsong filled the air that was so pleasantly different from the hiss of bubbling lava one would usually hear on the volcano.

 

Just as he had been the moment the volcano showed signs of exploding, Shadehunter was kept close to Secretkeeper’s side. Even as Secretkeeper surveyed the Rainwings surrounding the Nightwing group, her attention still constantly flicked back to him. Said Rainwings, while technically armed, seemed about as harmless as the sloths they carried. The majority of them held their spears so carelessly it wouldn’t take much more than a swipe of Shadehunter’s tail to disarm them. Although, for what they lacked in raw intimidation they made up for in numbers as the Nightwings were outnumbered two to one at least.

 

Much more concerning to Shadehunter however, was the intimidating Seawing at the head of the crowd of Rainwings who looked ready to swipe at anyone that showed even a hint of aggression. At her side sat a Mudwing that was somehow inexplicably larger than her, putting on a brave show of solidarity. Judging by his positioning though, the Mudwing seemed to be holding the Seawing back from attacking just as much as he was protecting her from the flock of Nightwings.

 

Tsunami and Clay. They’ve certainly got the right build to be Phyrria’s saviours. It’s hard to believe they’re only six and a half. Shadehunter noted shifting his wings to more properly cover the dagger he had strapped to his side.

 

Earlier on in the evening a couple of Rainwings had disarmed all of the Nightwings but thankfully Shadehunter had been able to covertly re-summon his own blade when the raging storm above let loose a lightning strike loud enough to cover the sound of its arrival. While Glory had kept her word so far, Shadehunter didn’t want to take any chances until he was sure the arrangement his tribe had come to with the Rainwings wasn’t going to end in a bloodbath.

 

To think that anyone would offer amnesty to a tribe that had been all but intent on displacing their own. I do not know whether to be impressed by their mercy or to deride them for their naivety. Shadehunter mused to himself as he leaned further into Secretkeeper’s side to combat the chill of the rain.

 

In his previous lifetime such an act would never have occurred. Tribal politics were brutal and the royals within the courts even more so. Foeslayer and Arctic both had insisted on teaching Shadehunter from a young age how to act in front of nobles. To never show fear or weakness. To offer mercy and kindness only if you could twist it to your own advantage. Any Queen worth respecting would have spat on an enemy in such a vulnerable position as the Nightwings had been in just hours ago. Yet Glory hadn’t. She had offered them an alternative. At the cost of their dignity.

 

Whether in hushed whispers or in the privacy of their thoughts, Shadehunter could constantly hear sentiments of discontent from his fellow Nightwings. Variations on the theme of, ‘How could a Rainwing possibly be Queen of the Nightwings?’ and, ‘We’ve made it to the rainforest, why shouldn’t we stage a coup now before Glory makes the Rainwings any more competent than she has already?”. However, despite their talk of rebellion it seemed that the majority of the Nightwings were willing to swallow their pride for the time being. They had been thoroughly out manoeuvred by the Rainwings once already and in spite of the gall of having to bow to a foreign Queen, the offer of fresh air and full bellies was sorely tempting for the starved populace. Especially if the alternative was a fight they had no way of knowing they’d win. So despite the burning shame Shadehunter felt at having his tribe brought so low, he was still reluctantly grateful to the young Queen.

 

Not to mention, the current situation did create an interesting opportunity for Shadehunter down the line. Queen Battlewinner apparently died in the chaos of the explosion and to secure the Nightwings a place in the rainforest Princess Greatness had ceded her right to the throne. This in turn, conveniently, left the Nightwing royal bloodline completely broken. As it was, for now it would be best for Shadehunter and the Nightwings to take the deal Glory was offering but later? When the war was over and the tribe was itching to regain their own independence? Well, who was Shadehunter to deny his tribe the opportunity to regain their ancestral home. If it so happened to also be under his guidance of course well… better a King then a Rainwing right?

 

Still, such plans were a long way off however and in the here and now, Shadehunter’s attention was drawn back to the present as a silhouette he recognised approached him and his mother.

 

“Deathbringer.” Secretkeeper stated plainly, her wing tightening around Shadehunter slightly.

 

“Lovely weather we’re having huh?” Deathbringer said with an ironic grin, bouncing on his talons to keep warm in the downpour. I’ve never been able to get a good read on her.

 

“Quite.” replied Secretkeeper, her neutral tone giving none of her thoughts away and killing off all pretenses of small-talk. What does the assassin want now? I don’t want him to drag Shadehunter away at the height of his treason and have the rest of the tribe think my son had anything to do with it.

 

Even before Deathbringer had unofficially sided with Glory, Secretkeeper had never been overly fond of him. As far as Shadehunter could tell, it was nothing to do with the drake personally but more due to the fact that he was training Shadehunter. Secretkeeper simply did not want her son involved in a career that was that openly dangerous. Morrowseer and Secretkeeper had had a furious week-long argument about it when she first found out. The dragoness had only relented when Morrowseer admitted that it was just so that Shadehunter could learn how to protect himself and not so he could actually be sent out to assassinate people. Shadehunter never quite figured out whether that admission was a lie or not.

 

It was worth a shot. Deathbringer thought with a grimace as he looked to the side away from Secretkeeper’s cool gaze.

 

“Look, I’ve just come to let you know that… Morrowseer didn’t make it. According to Clay he got caught in the explosion before he could escape. My condolences.” Deathbringer confessed, his head bowed in a rare show of respect.

 

It took a moment for the words to register for both Shadehunter and Secretkeeper. For as long as Shadehunter had known the dragon, Morrowseer had seemed like an unstoppable force of will. While Shadehunter wasn’t sad to see the dragon go, it felt somewhat strange to hear that Morrowseer was actually gone, and with so little ceremony as well. Morrowseer didn’t die in an epic battle to secure Nightwing supremacy or in some great scroll-worthy betrayal that upended all his schemes. He just got unlucky and that was it.

 

“Oh.” Secretkeeper whispered in shock as her face softened into something almost approaching vulnerability.

 

The three Nightwings stood in silence as Secretkeeper’s attention unfocused, the only sound between them was the pitter-patter of rain falling on the surrounding foliage.

 

“Are you alright?” Shadehunter asked gently, laying a talon on Secretkeeper’s shoulder in support.

 

“Yes… yes I’ll be fine Shadehunter.” Secretkeeper answered softly, putting her own talon on top of Shadehunter’s and squeezing it gently.

 

But within the recesses of her mind Shadehunter saw the sudden conflict that emerged with the confirmation of Morrowseer’s death. They had never been head-over-heels in love, of that Shadehunter was certain, but they hadn’t been strangers either. While there were times when both of them wanted to strangle the other, there was also a hard won respect there too. For all the cold professionalism most of their meetings held, Secretkeeper never would have mated with Morrowseer if she didn’t think he was worthy of her time. In spite of the callous ruthlessness he so often employed, Morrowseer always worked toward what he thought would be best for his tribe, no matter what he had to do to get there. It was a strange kind of mourning. Secretkeeper was intimately familiar with the dragon’s faults but she was also aware of the quiet determination Morrowseer had that he would only show when he was sure they were alone. Of how he wished for something better for the tribe he held so much pride in. In death, Morrowseer brought more feelings of sympathy from Secretkeeper than Shadehunter had ever seen her give him in life.

 

However even with all the thoughts of sorrow that Morrowseer’s passing brought, they could not completely subdue the feeling of relief Secretkeeper felt upon hearing he was dead. Morrowseer was a dominating force that would only budge when faced with the most stubborn of opposition. With him out of the way it would be so much easier to ensure both of her dragonets could grow up the way she wanted them to. Safe. Loved. Free from the expectation to perform to Morrowseer’s warped perception of how all Nightwings should behave.

 

With a shaky sigh Secretkeeper pulled herself together and out of her thoughts, “T-thank you for telling me Deathbringer. It's good to know what had become of him even if it is only to hear that he has joined the rest of our ancestors in the stars. Was there anything else?”

 

“Ah, no that was it. I was just finishing counting up the tribe for Queen Glory when I spotted you and figured that you should know what had happened.” Deathbringer explained awkwardly, nervously shaking out his waterlogged wings.

 

“Counting up the Nightwings? It's a bit early for a census isn’t it?” Shadehunter inquired curiously.

 

“It's important for Queen Glory to know so she can plan out what to do with us. Knowing the numbers will help her make decisions on where to set up the settlement, how much space we’ll need, the amount of food and water we’ll need access to, and how many able bodied dragons she’ll have available to help with construction.” listed Deathbringer, counting off each individual reason on his claws. Not to mention it’ll give me the chance to assess who will and won’t be a threat to Glory while I’m at it.

 

Upon hearing Deathbringer continue to talk, Shadehunter felt Secretkeeper tense up beside him, her spines flaring in agitation as her thoughts drifted to Moonwatcher. Is now the right time to bring her back? We’re off the volcano and Morrowseer is gone but who knows if this fragile peace will last. If I lie now though, will Glory think I kept Moon hidden from her on purpose and not allow her to stay?

 

“Is something wrong mother?” Shadehunter whispered as he twined his tail with hers in the hopes of breaking Secretkeeper out of her spiralling thoughts.

 

Secretkeeper jolted at the touch but when she looked Shadehunter in the eye a silent resolve filled her being as she saw the love she felt for her dragonets reflected back on her.

 

“N-no- well yes actually there is.” Secretkeeper let out with a sigh before turning back to face the assassin. “Deathbringer, is there any chance you can persuade Queen Glory to let us out into the rainforest alone for a bit? There’s something I need to tell her but I want to talk about it with Shadehunter in private first.”

 

Deathbringer’s face shuttered at Secretkeeper’s request and just from his stiffened body language Shadehunter could tell that Deathbringer probably wasn’t going to say yes. 

 

“Deathbringer, the tribe is about as stable as a lit dragonflame cactus at the moment but if Secretkeeper and I hunted down some prey for them I think that would help calm things down don’t you? The Rainwings can gather fruit but I imagine they don’t exactly like hunting animals.” Shadehunter preemptively suggested, stepping forward and putting on his best ‘I’m-helpful-and-trustworthy’ face.

 

Judging by the huff of exasperated amusement he let out upon seeing Shadehunter’s expression, Deathbringer wasn’t moved by Shadehunter’s doe eyes but he didn’t immediately dismiss the mindreader either. Dragon’s can’t rebel while they’re eating, and maybe having some food in them will make my tribemates marginally less irritable.

 

“Okay, okay, it’s a good excuse, Shadehunter. I’ll try to use my roguish charm to talk Glory into it but if she still says no there’s not much I can do.” Deathbringer compromised as he playfully cuffed Shadehunter on the ear.

 

“You have my everlasting thanks, ‘Oh Wise One’.” Shadehunter teased as he gave the departing assassin a mocking bow.

 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dearest apprentice.” Deathbringer replied gamely, willfully ignoring every hint of sarcasm in Shadehunter’s voice as he trotted off.

 

~

 

After about half an hour of negotiation Deathbringer eventually managed to come through for Shadehunter and Secretkeeper. While it wasn’t the complete privacy that Secretkeeper had wanted, Queen Glory had still allowed the two of them to leave for a hunt so long as they were accompanied by a pair of Rainwings.

 

Taking the lead the two Nightwings picked their way through the undergrowth, Secretkeeper doing so with significantly more ease than Shadehunter, while the Rainwings followed them from the treetops above. The sheer density of plant growth meant that vines and shrubs got in Shadehunter’s way constantly and while still better than the scorched plains of the volcano, it would take some time before he could navigate it easily.

 

After tripping over yet another root, Shadehunter glowered at the offending vegetation before reluctantly taking the talon Secretkeeper offered. Secretkeeper’s eyes briefly crinkled with unspoken encouragement before she moved forward. Her shoulders quickly regained their tense posture as Secretkeeper’s thoughts returned to thinking about how to explain why she had kept such an important secret from her son.

 

Deciding it would be better to rip off the scab now than let Secretkeeper stew in misplaced guilt any longer, Shadehunter spoke softly, “You don’t need to worry mother, I already know I have a sister.”

 

“You do!?” Secretkeeper near-shouted incredulously, stumbling slightly in surprise. How could he possibly know? I never spoke a word of her, unless Shadehunter can also…

 

Shooting an obviously telegraphed look up to their intrigued audience, Secretkeeper took Shadehunter’s hint and lowered her stance in addition to flaring her wings to further hide their conversation.

 

“You're not the only one who's been keeping secrets alright, and Moonwatcher’s not the only one who can read minds.” Shadehunter admitted quietly, keeping most of his attention on where to next place his talons. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier but the volcano was stressful enough for you without having yet another thing to lie to Morrowseer about. If you didn’t know about it you wouldn't have to worry about him ever finding out from you.”

 

Silence was the only reply Shadehunter received as they trudged their way past monolithic tree trunks. Glancing at Secretkeeper from the corner of his eye, Shadehunter was shocked to see that instead of the look of hurt betrayal he had been expecting, Secretkeeper instead seemed to have doubled down on the guilt she had initially been feeling.

 

“Are you angry at me?” Secretkeeper finally choked out, ears pinned in dread-filled anticipation of Shadehunter’s answer.

 

“Angry? Why on earth would I be angry at you?” Shadehunter asked with genuine confusion, even attempting to read her thoughts only gave him a messy mix of shame and self-recrimination. “I’m the one who just told you I’d been secretly reading your mind for the past three and a half years. If anything, you should be the one angry at me.”

 

“How could I possibly blame you for making a decision that you thought would keep you safe. I would never begrudge you for something like that.” Secretkeeper dismissed with steadfast conviction, pausing their march to take Shadehunter’s talons in her own. “Especially when the only reason you had to lie was because I couldn’t get you out along with Moon in the first place. You had to grow up on that awful island all while hearing about how worried I was about your sister living in comparative paradise. For that I will always be sorry.”

 

It seemed to Secretkeeper that failing to keep her dragonet from the volcano was the greatest crime she felt she had ever committed. Every hacking cough and missed meal was another reminder of how she couldn’t protect her own son. Shadehunter couldn’t bear to see a dragon he cared so much about blaming themself so harshly for something completely beyond their control. Shadehunter had lost one mother already, he wasn’t going to let Secretkeeper sit in her misguided misery if he could say something to make her feel better.

 

“The volcano was horrible and growing up in the rainforest with Moonwatcher would have been wonderful but…” Shadehunter began slowly making sure to fill his voice with as much sincerity as he could, “if I did Mightyclaws would have missed out on having an amazing friend. Not to mention how much more insufferable Deathbringer would have become without having me around to deflate his ego.”

 

Already Shadehunter could see Secretkeeper’s posture start to lighten, Shadehunter’s absolution lifting the shame she’d secretly carried on her back for so long before Shaderhunter put the final nail in the coffin, “Most importantly however, I got to see you everyday. What kind of dragonet would I be if I didn’t relish every opportunity I got to see you laugh at my bad jokes or hear the smile in your voice when you say ‘I love you’.”

 

Faster than lightning, Secretkeeper swept Shadehunter into her arms and crushed him into a hug so tight he could hear the thrumming of her heart. They stayed like that for a moment, before Secretkeeper pulled back and with her eyes glistening she whispered, “What have I done to deserve a dragonet as perfect as you, my precious little shadow.”

 

In the face of Secretkeeper’s raw adoration Shadehunter was for once at a loss for words, his cheeks taking on a slight flush as he turned away with a shy smile involuntarily plastered on his face.

 

Soon enough however, Shadehunter remembered their situation when he felt a pleased thought from one of the accompanying Rainwings. Aww that's cute, I knew not all of the Nightwings could be mean and scary.

 

“Okay okay enough mushy stuff.” Shadehunter said as he disentangled himself from his mother’s embrace. “It's probably about time we tell our entourage about the real reason we’re out here. I imagine they’re getting rather curious as to why we’ve stopped in the middle of the woods to talk when we’re supposed to be hunting.”

 

Letting out an embarrassed cough, Secretkeeper recomposed herself before calling out to their escort, “Jambu! Can you come down here, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Notes:

This turned into a Secretkeeper chapter, whoops. I fully intended to have Moon show up but then Secretkeeper knocked down my door and said, "Hey what if I actually had a guilt complex". Pretty glad I put that slow-burn tag in ngl.

Part of me feels like this chapter got a little too sappy but, like, escaping a volcano and being kinda-prisoner's-kinda-refugee's probably had emotions running high.

Anyway as always, if you made it all the way down here thanks for reading and if you're in the mood feel free to drop a comment but otherwise have a wonderful day. :))

Chapter 7: Reunion

It was only after two weeks had passed that Shadehunter was finally able to reunite with Moonwatcher. While Secretkeeper had been willing to inform Glory of Moonwatcher’s existence, she had plainly refused to bring her daughter back to the tribe for the time being. Ostensibly, this was because Moonwatcher was shy and skittish after having grown up alone in the rainforest and she wouldn’t approach Secretkeeper unless her mother was alone. Shadehunter knew that, truthfully, Secretkeeper just didn’t want to endanger her daughter until the tension between the Nightwings and the Rainwings settled.

 

Surprisingly enough, Shadehunter suspected that Glory was aware of that as well but nonetheless the Rainwing Queen didn’t object to Secretkeeper’s explanation. In fact, Secretkeeper’s dedication to keeping her daughter out of harm's way actually seemed to endear her a little to the young Queen, judging by the way the Rainwing’s harsh demeanour softened minutely.

 

Personal opinions aside however, Glory still had an experimental two tribe system to implement and she couldn’t afford to loosen her control over the Nightwings until she was sure they wouldn’t revolt at the first opportunity. A process that was exacerbated by the fact that during the first week the Sandwing, ‘Sunny’ Shadehunter believed she was called, had vanished.

 

Immediately, the dragonets had assumed foul play on the part of the Nightwings, not that they were entirely unjustified in that response, and proceeded to thoroughly interrogate every Nightwing for any clue on where Sunny had gone. However, even with Tsunami using the full force of her intimidating presence, the dragonets received frustratingly little information from the rainforest’s new tenants.

 

Even Shadehunter himself, in spite of his own abilities, didn’t know where she had gone either and when questioned answered honestly, “I have no idea, but if you’re sure it's one of us your best bet is to find out who's missing.”

 

In the interim Shadehunter had tried to keep busy, preferring to make the most of the situation rather than mutter and moan like some of his more bitter tribemates. Whether it was clearing debris for their future settlement or just talking with Mightyclaws and the other dragonets to keep their spirits up, Shadehunter moved with ceaseless purpose. Having Moonwatcher so close yet still out of reach made Shadehunter’s claws twitch. While he might not know her beyond what he’d heard from Secretkeeper, the prospect of having another mind-reader to talk to, not to mention a seer as well, was exciting enough to make Shadehunter restless.

 

Luckily for Secretkeeper and Shadehunter, the situation resolved itself fairly quickly and, while Shadehunter wasn’t privy to the details, the small Sandwing seemed to have found her own way back none the worse for wear.

 

With Sunny returned to the rainforest and all the dragonets of destiny safe and accounted for, Glory relaxed significantly. While the Rainwing Queen was still as fierce as anything, she had arranged a hunting roster for the tribe after another week of arguably good behaviour from the Nightwings, grumbling notwithstanding. More importantly, it was a roster that, although restricted to set time slots, allowed Secretkeeper and Shadehunter to explore the rainforest without any pesky Rainwing tagalongs.

 

All of which led Secretkeeper and Shadehunter to the moonlit clearing they found themselves in. According to Secretkeeper, this was the most common rendezvous for her and Moonwatcher to meet up in and upon seeing it Shadehunter instantly understood why. It was far enough away from both the Rainwing village and the Nightwing portal to ensure they stayed undetected while also containing a plethora of beautiful smelling flowers. From hibiscus to orchids and every other vibrant flower he couldn’t identify, Shadehunter presumed it would be difficult to find a more scenic place in the rainforest to spend time in.

 

In what Shadehunter now knew was a rarity for his new home, the night sky was clear and allowed Shadehunter to see both Oracle and Perception beaming down on him. Oh how I missed seeing the moons without that accursed ash cloud.

 

Even Secretkeeper, who held far less interest in the sky’s celestial bodies, took a moment to admire the moons and stars alongside Shadehunter as they waited for Moonwatcher to arrive. Just as Secretkeeper predicted, it didn’t take too long before Shadehunter heard the near silent sound of claws alighting onto a tree branch.

 

Soft as velvet, an intrigued thought emerged from just beyond the edge of the clearing, Is that who I think it is? He’s got the ice-blue eyes and sharp angular muzzle I saw in her mind but who knows how common those traits are for Nightwings? Unless mother gives me a sign that it's safe I know she’d want me to stay hidden. To stay safe.

 

Silencing his own thoughts so they wouldn’t tip Moonwatcher off, Shadehunter spoke under his breath, “Moonwatcher’s just arrived but you should probably be the one to greet her. I don’t want to scare her off.”

 

Secretkeeper acknowledged Shadehunter with a nod of her head before raising her tail and slapping it harshly on the ground three times in quick succession. Upon seeing Secretkeeper’s signal, Moonwatcher glided gracefully from her perch, seamlessly past the treeline, and into the clearing below.

 

With serpentine elegance Moonwatcher landed in front of her mother, her dark malachite green scales glistening in the moonlight. Although she chose a position with a sizable distance away from Shadehunter, Moonwatcher’s anxiety couldn’t completely quell the curiosity she felt from seeing another dragonet up close for the first time. Both her thoughts and her gaze were transfixed on analysing the dragonet that stood next to her mother. He looks friendly enough, am I supposed to say ‘hello’? Neither mother or the scrolls I’ve read told me what you’re supposed to say when you meet someone new for the first time.

 

She might have Secretkeeper’s scales but that stature is all Morrowseer. Not that most would be able to guess with how nervous she seems. Shadehunter observed in return with a hint of jealousy that he did his best to ignore. In their time apart Moonwatcher had grown significantly more than Shadehunter had. She was big for her age, taller than Shadehunter by at least a head, and had all the lithe toned musculature that a healthy diet combined with surviving alone in the rainforest provided her.

 

A twitch of her ear told Shadehunter that his stray thought had probably been heard but Moonwatcher was quickly distracted by the smothering hug Secretkeeper buried her in. Almost equal floods of relief filled the two Nightwings as they held each other tight. Once Moonwatcher was released, Secretkeeper cupped her daughter’s face and asked with loving concern, “How are you moonbud? I wish I hadn’t had to leave you alone for so long but a lot happened this past month.”

 

“I’m perfectly fine, mother. I know how to look after myself.” Moonwatcher answered with feigned nonchalance but the way she leaned into Secretkeeper’s talons betrayed how much she savoured the gesture. I shouldn’t have been so scared just because she was gone for a little longer than usual. Okay a lot longer than usual.

 

“I know you can.” Secretkeeper sighed with a well worn twinge of guilt at the self-sufficiency her daughter had been forced to learn in her absence. “But that doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

 

In what Shadehunter deduced must be a familiar routine for the two, Moon smiled softly at her mother’s words before pulling away slightly and saying, “I missed you too.”

 

Secretkeeper just huffed in false indignation at Moonwatcher’s response as the fretful frown she wore lifted from her face. Turning her attention away from Moonwatcher, Secretkeeper nudged her daughter with a wing until they were both facing Shadehunter before introducing him, “Moon, there’s some exciting news I have to tell you but first of all I want you to meet your brother, Shadehunter.”

 

“Hello Moonwatcher, it's so nice to finally meet you.” Shadehunter stated warmly as he lounged on the forest floor. Shadehunter made sure to keep his posture calm and unguarded in the hopes of easing some of the nerves he could feel creeping back into Moonwatcher’s shoulders.

 

“J-just Moon is fine thank you. Mother told me a lot about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the name.” Moon replied quietly as she meekly made eye contact. But what has she told you about me? She always said that if I ever rejoined the tribe they could never know about my powers. Does that include Shadehunter as well? Will he hate me if he ever finds out?

 

Already Shadehunter could see Moon beginning to draw into herself defensively as she imagined all the horrible ways he might react to finding out her secret. Deciding it would be much more efficient to address Moon’s unspoken worries directly, Shadehunter projected his thoughts for the first time in years. Now why would I ever hate you for sharing the same wonderful power that I have Moon?

 

WIth a yelp, Moon jolted up like she had been shocked and stared wide eyed at Shadehunter as though he had grown a second head. Shadehunter stayed offensively relaxed, his tail flicking languidly as he apologised with a slight grin that betrayed his amusement, “Sorry about that. I just figured that that would probably be the easiest way to get my point across.”

 

Like lightning, Moon’s thoughts raced at the prospect of having somebody else like her. Old fears about being forever isolated due to her abilities already easing at the mere chance that Shadehunter was telling the truth. With cautious optimism, Moon attempted to recreate the same trick Shadehunter had just pulled and scrunched her snout as she thought as hard as she could in his direction. You can really read minds like me? Do you also get visions of the future too?

 

“Yes to the first, no to the second sadly. That gift is reserved for you and you alone.” Shadehunter answered aloud with a stifled laugh at Moon’s rather constipated looking expression.

 

Upon hearing undeniable proof of Shadehunter’s abilities, Moon’s face broke into such a joyful expression it felt as though Imperial itself was shining right in front of him. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

 

I might actually, given the whole mind-reading thing. Shadehunter joked as he waggled his eye ridges and was pleased to see Moon let out an amused snort of her own.

 

Secretkeeper looked back and forth between her two dragonets, confusion etched on her muzzle at their strange exchange, “What’s going on?”

 

“Just letting Moon know that she doesn’t have to worry about the whole ‘secret mind-reading thing’ with me.” Shadehunter informed Secretkeeper, lifting a claw to tap one of his teardrop scales for emphasis.

 

“Ah… right. I’m still getting used to knowing you can do that too.” Secretkeeper said once she figured out what Shadehunter meant, a small grimace forming on her face as she pondered the implications of her dragonets’ half-silent conversation. Telepathic communication is fine on its own but if the two of them keep answering unspoken questions aloud someone is bound to get suspicious.

 

Shadehunter frowned as he felt Secretkeeper’s thoughts turn towards how best to encourage them to stifle their gifts and keep them hidden. While Shadehunter knew Secretkeeper’s worries came from a desire to keep them safe, he didn’t like how quickly she felt the need to subdue them. It was their tribal heritage, they were meant to be cherished, not hidden away like some shameful deformity. However before he could say anything on the matter, Shadehunter's musings were swiftly interrupted by Moon speaking up excitedly.

 

“You have to tell me everything. Mother said that there’s hundreds of dragons in the tribe and I can’t imagine how you could stand listening to so many dragons at once.” said Moon as she stepped forward, any nervousness forgotten in the face of finally talking with someone who faced the same struggles as she did.

 

“Of course of course. But in return you have to tell me how you get around this claustrophobic maze of a forest. I swear I can’t move two talonsteps without getting tangled up in something.” Shadehunter complained with a baleful glare at the surrounding vegetation.

 

Following Shadehunter’s gaze, Moon chuckled softly at the briar bush that had drawn his ire as she was reminded of her own encounters with the rainforest’s myriad of obstacles before she had figured out how to better traverse them.

 

“It's not too bad once you get used to it.” Moon asserted before lifting a talon to point towards the treetops. “Tree gliding is definitely the best way to get around though. There’s far fewer vines to avoid in the canopy.”

 

Memories of silently hopping from branch to branch before swiftly diving onto an unsuspecting boar flitted by in Moon’s mind. Shadehunter had to agree that if he could figure out how to move like that through the forest he’d never bother trawling through the undergrowth again.

 

“Sounds like you’re an expert. You’ll have to show the rest of the tribe how it's done when we get back.” Shadehunter suggested with a friendly brush of his wing. I’m sure they’d much rather learn from a Nightwing than a Rainwing after all.  

 

Moon’s rose coloured thoughts of all the cool things she could show Shadehunter around the rainforest ground to a halt at his words. With a hint of fear Moon turned back to Secretkeeper and asked, “The rest of the tribe? What does he mean? I thought they were all on the island.”

 

Hearing the sliver of alarm in Moon’s voice, Secretkeeper instinctively wrapped her tail around Moon to which the mind reader’s spines relaxed near instantly.

 

“It’s the reason I’ve been kept away for so long. The volcano erupted two weeks ago and we were forced to flee. Thankfully Glory’s allowed the tribe to stay in the rainforest.” Secretkeeper explained before letting loose a celebratory flutter of her wings. “Isn’t it great, I can finally take you home with me.” 

 

“It would be nice to see you more than twice a week.” Moon admitted in an attempt to match Secretkeeper’s clear excitement at the prospect of bringing her daughter back with her. Moon’s expression however, was not dissimilar to one that Shadehunter imagined she’d make had she eaten something wholly unpleasant but was trying her best not to let it show. Just meeting Shadehunter was scary enough. How am I possibly going to manage living with an entire tribe?

 

Picking up a dandelion, Shadehunter stealthily and mercilessly blew its seed pods directly into Moon’s snout. Sneezing at the unexpected floral assault, Moon sent a slightly annoyed but mostly confused look at her brother.

 

“It's not going to be that bad Moon. Most of the tribe is going to be too busy setting up the new village to notice one extra dragonet, not to mention both of us will be there to help you adjust.” Shadehunter assured Moon confidently before adding another sentiment just for her, And if anyone tries to bother you they’ll have to deal with me.

 

Moon’s ears perked minutely in surprise at Shadehunter’s protective promise before she simply gave him a grateful nod in acknowledgment.

 

“Does this mean we’re going back now?” Moon asked tentatively, shooting a quick longing glance to the northern treeline.

 

“No, not yet. We still need to catch some dinner after all.” Secretkeeper answered, much to Moon’s relief, before she stood up and began making her way toward the treeline.

 

Before Moon could move to join Secretkeeper, Shadehunter made his way between them and gestured with his tail for his fellow mind-reader to stay seated. Upon hearing that neither of her dragonets were following her, Secretkeeper looked back with her brow raised in askance.

 

“Is it alright if I talk with Moon while you catch something for us? There’s a few mind-reading tricks I picked up that I think Moon should really know before we go back.” Shadehunter implored.

 

Secretkeeper hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure how she felt about her two dragonets developing a power that could potentially put them at risk. The moment of doubt didn’t last long however as she considered how disastrous it would be if Moon’s secret was discovered because she couldn’t control it. Especially when Secretkeeper saw the excited look on Moon’s face at Shadehunter’s offer.

 

“Of course, I should be back in half an hour so don’t wander off too far alright. We have a curfew we can’t afford to break.” Secretkeeper commanded with a stern tone she rarely employed and upon receiving two nods she scented the air and took off.

 

Moon waited until Secretkeeper was well out of the clearing before she turned to Shadehunter with eager anticipation, “Have you really figured out how to control your mind-reading? I’ve tried to turn mine off a couple of times, just to see if I could, but nothing I did worked and mother couldn’t find any scrolls to teach me either.”

 

“To be fair I’ve had a lot more time and dragons to practise with. I’m sure you would have figured it out eventually.” Shadehunter reassured with a dismissive wave of his talon before continuing with an exaggerated wink. “But luckily for you, now that I’m here you won’t have to.”

 

He’s certainly confident if nothing else. Moon thought with an internal eye roll at Shadehunter’s grandstanding as she nodded for him to continue.

 

Ignoring Moon’s private remark, Shadehunter set into a pace as he began to lecture, “Currently, the most important skill for you to learn is the one you just mentioned, blocking out other dragons' thoughts. Once you get into a crowd of over ten or so, their thoughts will blend into a ceaseless mental prattle that becomes rather painful to listen to.”

 

Moon shuddered slightly at the implication of his words, “That sounds bad. I’d rather not meet the tribe while also dealing with a headache.”

 

“My thoughts exactly.” Shadehunter agreed, “Now, I know you’ve been stuck in the rainforest but have you had the chance to visit the shoreline on its southern border?”

 

Moon tilted her head, confused at Shadehunter’s non-sequitur before answering him anyway, “Uh no, I never wandered too far just in case I missed one of mother’s visits. What does that have to do with mind-reading exactly?”

“Ah, it's just that waves have always been what I use to block out thoughts myself. That’s fine though any repetitive soothing sound will do.” Shadehunter explained with an exemplary tap-tap-tap of his tail.

 

Moon’s gaze shifted to a nearby fern bush as she searched her memories for something suitable. Tracing one of the fronds with a gentle claw tip, Moon asked, “Would rain work?”

 

“Yes, that would be perfect. Fill your head with rain.” Shadehunter instructed.

 

Closing her eyes in concentration, Moon encased her mind in an impenetrable downpour that was so common in her home. Interestingly, it also served to block out some of Shadehunter’s own mindreading and although he could still feel that there was some melancholy to her thoughts he could no longer sense why. While Shadehunter could probably push through with relative ease, the fact that he would have to put any effort in at all was unfamiliar. I’m either wildly out of practice or this is yet another drawback to hatching under only one moon.

 

Focusing back on the lesson with a shake of his head, Shadehunter went on, “Now hold on to that falling rain sound, and then imagine that you’re taking my thoughts and slipping them inside one of the raindrops.”

 

To make it easier for Moon, Shadehunter returned his attention to the sky above and focused on finding every constellation he could remember and myths surrounding them. Shadehunter wasn’t sure if he believed the legends that Nightwings joined the stars when they died but it was comforting to think that Foeslayer and Whiteout might still be watching over him even now. Shadehunter was about a quarter of his way through his list and had just spotted ‘ The Twin Serpents ’ when he felt a burst of joy from Moon. Tearing his gaze away from the heavens, Shadehunter was happy to see a triumphant grin adorning Moon’s muzzle. That was pretty quick for her first time.

 

However, the moment Shadehunter turned his attention to her Moon’s wings slumped near instantly. I thought I had it for a second there. Maybe I’m doing something wrong.

 

“No no no, don’t worry, that was my bad. You were doing great.” Shadehunter encouraged before explaining further with an apologetic expression. “Thoughts specifically about you are always harder to keep out. This trick works best in a crowd anyway so the fact you managed to pull it off that fast with only one dragon present is doubly impressive.”

 

Moon looked relieved that she hadn’t inadvertently messed up but Shadehunter could sense she still felt slightly discouraged at the lack of progress. Just as Moon was about to close her eyes to try again Shadehunter interrupted her with a nudge to her shoulder.

 

“You mentioned tree gliding before, right? We should have enough time for you to show me the basics and having a physical task for me to focus on should make it easier for you to keep me out.” Shadehunter suggested as he observed the labyrinthine canopy. “If nothing else, I’m sure seeing me inevitably crash into tree branches will be more entertaining than watching me star-gaze.”

 

Moon took a moment to consider Shadehunter’s idea, mapping out the surrounding area and the landmarks they could reach before they had to return, before agreeing, “Well, there is a good mango tree nearby.”

 

“To the mango tree it is then! By the time Secretkeeper returns we’ll be the best mind-reading-tree-gliding duo known to dragonkind I’m sure of it!” Shadehunter exclaimed as he launched himself toward the upper branches.

 

Moon looked bewildered at Shadehunter’s antics but swiftly followed after him, her earlier disappointment in her own mind reading momentarily forgotten.

Before Moon caught up with Shadehunter he overheard one final thought that made his insides burn with pride, If the rest of the tribe is anything like Shadehunter, maybe it won’t be too bad.

Notes:

Moon has re-entered orbit. I am a firm believer in the fan headcanon that Moon inherited Morrowseer's height. Its just fun to have that contrast of shy anxious mess that could also totally body you if they so choose.

Anyway if you got all the way down here thanks for reading and have a wonderful day :))

Chapter 8: Reintegration

As it turned out, Shadehunter might have been a little too optimistic in his prediction of how the tribe would react to Moon's existence.

 

When Secretkeeper first returned with her two dragonets in tow, no-one had batted an eye. The Nightwings were far too preoccupied with building their new home to immediately notice that the new Nightwing dragonet in their midst was a stranger to them. While she was tense and uncomfortable at the sheer number of dragons now surrounding her, Moon managed to follow Shadehunter’s instructions and successfully kept their rampant thoughts at bay.

 

As the trio crept their way through the Nightwings’ new territory, Moon’s eyes drank in the sight of the burgeoning village. Everywhere in view, dragons were working towards turning the untamed wilderness into a place that could house their tribe. From the scrape of saws turning tree trunks into lumber to the soft murmur of dragons as they weaved fibre into rope, the sound of civilization filled the air. Although the majority of the tribe would usually be asleep this late in the night, there weren't many places to bed down in as of yet. For the time being the more able bodied of the tribe shared what limited shelter was available and slept in shifts to save what little space they had.

 

Privately, Shadehunter wondered if those on the night shift would ever return to their previous schedule or if they’d acclimatize to the more natural Nightwing way of living. Even those rostered on the day shift were spending more and more time awake at night and sleeping further and further into the morning.

 

Currently, the only ‘shelters’ the tribe had managed to construct so far were simple lean-tos supported against the massive tree trunks that littered the rainforest. While their new home was stiflingly hot and humid during the day, the combination of constant rain and the comparatively chill evening air made for a rather cold night atmosphere.

 

Said atmosphere was universally disliked amongst the tribe that had grown used to the volcanically heated temperature of the island. As such, although there were plans to build more sturdy permanent structures eventually, with some of the foundations already in the process of being laid, for the time being much more effort was put into making sure everyone had a place to stay dry.

 

With a flick of her tail Secretkeeper broke Moon out of her curious gawking before they could draw any attention themselves. Silently and swiftly, Secretkeeper weaved her way past clumps of busy dragons and towards the bare-bones shack she had managed to snag. Like the den they had shared on the island, Secretkeeper had picked a place on the edge of the proposed village borders. Shadehunter noted Moon’s obvious relief at the isolated location of her new home in the unfurrowing of her brow. Although Shadehunter knew Moon would eventually develop the skill to block out other minds subconsciously, for now it would be nice for his sister to have a secluded home to retreat to while she was still learning.

 

“I know it’s not much right now but in a couple of months I’m sure we’ll have something cosier.” Secretkeeper explained, embarrassment leaking into her tone at the lackluster accommodations.

 

The shelter was hastily built with a series of mismatched planks of wood hammered together to form a simple outer wall with only a small gap left to act as an entryway. The roof consisted of a few beams connecting the trunk of the tree to the outer walls, overlaid with a blanket of large waxy leaves lashed together with tightly knotted rope. While it was no royal castle, it was still leagues better than sleeping exposed to the wind, rain and mud on the forest floor.

 

Moon, seemingly either not noticing or caring about the nervous talon now rubbing the back of Secretkeeper’s neck, looked perfectly pleased with the little lean-to as she made her way into her new home.

 

“It's nice.” Moon commented as she investigated the little nook where the few possessions they’d managed to save while evacuating were nestled. “Kinda like the little burrow I made under that fern bush but big enough for three.”

 

Shadehunter and Secretkeeper both winced at Moon’s inadvertently tragic comparison but wordlessly agreed not to linger on it and followed her inside.

 

They hadn’t managed to bring a lot of their possessions to their new home, the volcano had erupted without warning and Secretkeeper hadn’t dared to risk lingering in case she or Shadehunter got caught in the blast. Of what they’d managed to save, however, Moon passed over Shadehunter’s sheathed blade and Secretkeeper’s scrolls, instead gingerly grasping the sole piece of real treasure that Secretkeeper possessed. Lifting it in her claws to bring it closer to the moonlight, Moon examined the thin platinum bracelet with its intricate curves and inlaid leaf carvings.

 

Upon seeing the bracelet Moon held, Secretkeeper’s thoughts rushed back to the one who had gifted her such a rare luxury for the volcano’s inhabitants. With a gruff voice and a rare show of endearingly stilted awkwardness Morrowseer had thrust the bracelet into Secretkeeper’s talons before running off with the excuse that he was very busy drawing up negotiations with Queen Oasis.

 

Judging by the grimace that crept onto Moon’s face she, like Shadehunter, had caught Secrekeeper’s grief-tinged thought as well and quickly returned the bracelet back to the small shelf it had laid upon. Refusing to let memories of ‘Morrowseer’ of all dragons taint the air on what should be a celebratory evening, Shadehunter puffed himself up with all the mischievous cheer he possessed.

 

“Well, it's good to know we have something you're familiar with. Here’s hoping mother’s snoring doesn’t keep you from sleeping though.” Shadehunter stage-whispered cheekily as he passed Moon on the way to his side of the den.

 

Moon snorted knowingly at Shadehunter’s comment before her eyes widened as if to convey her shock at Shadehunter’s audacity in the face of the small memory they’d both just glimpsed. What is he doing!

 

Before Shadehunter could even answer Moon’s unspoken question Secretkeeper merely leveled a soft thwack to Shadehunter’s side in retribution for his comment, annoyed amusement already replacing the brief melancholy the bracelet had provoked just like he hoped it would.

 

“You’re not so innocent yourself, mister. I’m sure Moon won’t mind my snoring nearly as much when your wing flails at her in the middle of the night.” Secretkeeper retorted matter-of-factly as she relinquished some of the moss and leaves that made up her makeshift bed for Moon to use. Moon looked slightly confused at the sudden change in her mother’s demeanor and Shadehunter realised just how isolated she had been and how little experience she had with mind-reading.

 

You're going to hear small sorrows like these a lot as a mindreader. If a dragon doesn't speak such thoughts aloud it's generally accepted to let them have their privacy and look the other way. Shadehunter assured her silently as he continued to dramatically lament the many petty woes that Moon would come to face when sharing a cave with Secretkeeper.

 

Eventually Moon surrendered a bemused smile at the lighthearted banter that played out between Shaderhuner and Secretkeeper as she arranged Secretkeeper’s gift into a pile that she deemed comfortable. After trading jabs back and forth for a while all three of the Nightwings eventually laid down into their respective corners, the excitement of the day slowly giving way to the comforting pull of sleep.

 

“Now Moon, Glory's got me working on transcribing what intelligence reports I can remember that didn't make it off the island tomorrow morning. Given your sleeping habits I’ll likely be gone by the time you wake up but Shadehunter will be here to show you around.” Secretkeeper yawned out before sending a pointed look in Shadehunter’s direction. “Won’t he.”

 

“Of course! I’ll give you the full tour along with a quick rundown on who’s who.” Shadehunter agreed with an enthusiastic nod while adding exaggeratedly. You, Mother and I are all at the top of that list, obviously, but there are a few others around that might be worth your time.

 

“Alright, sounds like a good idea to me.” Moon accepted in spite of the way her ear flicked nervously at the prospect. I have to at least give this whole ‘tribe thing’ a try.

 

With tomorrow’s schedule sorted and a series of goodnights given, the three Nightwings soon found themselves dropping off. As Secretkeeper had warned, by the time the two dragonets had woken up she was long gone but she had left them with a selection of fruit before she departed. Nudging Moon awake softly, Shadehunter eased her momentary distaste for the early awakening with the offer of a freshly peeled papaya. Between the two of them, they made quick work of their light morning meal before emerging outside of their small sanctuary.

 

“So what's the plan? You said you might show me around?” Moon questioned timidly as her head swiveled to keep watch over the bustling Nightwings, now starkly visible in the morning light with which their dark scales contrasted so harshly.

 

“Truth be told there isn't much to show you yet that you haven't already seen. It's mostly construction everywhere right now. But I know a spot where we can get a good overview of where the village is planned to be at the very least.” Shadehunter proposed as he lifted himself up onto his hindlegs to spy out the landmark he had in mind.

 

With a small nod in the direction they were going to go, Shadehunter took to the air and guided Moonwatcher towards a thick tree near the center of the new village. From their perch in the upper branches, the two dragonets were afforded a decent view of almost the entire territory that the Nightwings had been given. In their makeshift watchtower Shadehunter launched into a brief summary of the village so far.

 

To the north east was the distribution center. Only some of the tribe was familiar enough with the Rainforest to properly hunt and gather without breaking a wing in a dive or picking a smokeberry instead of a mango. So, for the time being those that could hunt properly in the rainforest brought in extra for those who couldn’t. To many Nightwings’ shame this included Rainwings, at least until the tribe could properly get the wind under their wings. Even as Shadehunter was talking he could see the way strands of thought materialised into brightly coloured dragons dropping off packs of fruit into their designated shelves.

 

Shifting their gazes to the south east, the two dragonets saw where the current majority of their tribe was hard at work. For now it was little more than a series of stumps, sawdust, and tables but eventually this section would develop into the artisan quarter. The tribe hadn’t managed to save many of their tools but what little they had was put hard at work and with their new abundance of resources what they had lost was already being swiftly replaced.

 

The emptiest part of the village was currently the administration sector to the north west. While Nightwings loved hoarding scrolls like treasure, knowledge alone made for poor food and shelter. While the sections where buildings would be constructed had been delineated, until the tribe managed to build the essentials the library, school, and tribe hall would have to wait.

 

“And finally we have the South-West, where we just came from. It’s going to be the main residential district for the time being. Cautious as we are, the tribe wants our dens as far away from the Rainwing village as we can get until the animosity eases a little.” Shadehunter finished as they watched the older Nightwings scurrying about like ants from their elevated perch.

 

“Animosity? I thought mother said the Rainwings let us flee here after the volcano erupted?” Moonwatcher queried innocently, her eyes resting on one of the spear-wielding Rainwing guards along the border with renewed caution.

 

Oh. That hadn’t come up last night had it. Shadehunter remarked to himself as he stretched, his limbs stiff after having sat still for so long.

 

“Things were bad back on the volcano, Moon, even before it erupted. We were planning to invade and take the Rainforest by force. That didn’t happen, obviously, but we still ended up taking some hostages in the attempt and some of the Rainwings are rightfully still sore about that.” Shadehunter explained lightly, brushing over the grittier details Moon didn’t need to hear.

 

Moon’s wings still tensed, her ears unconsciously rising to better catch any Rainwing that might be sneaking up on them. With a worried tone to her voice Moon asked, “But they wouldn’t attack us, would they?”

 

“No, no. We all swore ourselves to Glory so as her new ‘loyal subjects’ revenge is strictly off the table.” Shadehunter reassured but couldn’t quite stop himself from whispering gravely, “Although technically you didn’t so maybe you should watch your tail.”

 

Moon stilled for a moment in terror at his words before picking up the amusement Shadehunter felt at watching her so gullibly believe him. Pouncing at him with all the agility of a panther, Moon pushed Shadehunter from his perch as she cried out, “You rotten brother, I believed you for a moment there.”

 

Flapping his wings wildly to steady himself in his unexpected flight, Shadehunter started to flee before he flung a grin over his shoulder as he replied with a mocking, “I could tell.”

 

~

 

For the rest of the day things progressed similarly with Shadehunter and Moonwatcher mostly sticking to the canopy. Shadehunter would point out the dragons below them, giving Moonwatcher a brief summary of who they were and any particularly juicy bits of gossip he knew about them. In return Moon explained what she knew of the Rainforest, how best to track prey here and which plants would make his scales itch like they’d been set alight.

 

Busy as the tribe was however, they were still far too underpopulated for Moon to stay unnoticed for long. Just by her looks alone it was exceedingly obvious that Moon wasn’t from the volcano: her unblemished scales shone, her eyes didn’t hold a hint of smoke damage, and not a single one of her ribs were visible. What started as confused second glances sent their way as Moon and Shadehunter went about their day quickly progressed into furtive whispers and ogling stares. In a matter of hours the rumor mill had done its work and everywhere Moon and Shadehunter went they were surrounded by suspicious thoughts concerning the outsider that had made her way into their midst.

 

In turn, Moonwatcher grew more and more withdrawn. Any tentative optimism she’d felt that morning about meeting her tribemates was snuffed out only to be replaced by the anxiety she seemed to constantly fall back on.

 

Shadehunter had expected Secretkeeper to receive some flack. In hiding Moon in the rainforest she had broken tribal law, it was inevitable that such a decision would net Secretkeeper some derision from her tribemates. But for them to send their ire towards Moon for some flames-forsaken reason as well? As though it was Moon who chose to be raised in the rainforest. As though any of the other Nightwings wouldn't have leapt at the opportunity to escape from the volcano like Moon had.

 

Shadehunter often used to joke that his father was the one to teach him how to block out others' thoughts so well. Sure, Arctic had never actively taught Shadehunter how to control his moon-borne powers, but the Icewing had still helped in his own awful way. If Shadehunter had wanted any peace of mind at home, filtering out Arctic's constant stream of disdain, anger, and entrenched self-loathing was essential. The fact that Moon now had to do the same with almost every other member of the tribe had Shadehunter silently seething even as he did his best to distract Moon from their tribe’s silent condemnation.

 

It all came to a head when they stopped by the food center for a snack. While the day wasn’t progressing quite as smoothly as Shadehunter had hoped, he knew food at least wouldn’t let him down. After years of rationing on the volcano Shadehunter could even appreciate the fruit the Rainforest was so full of, although he still preferred venison to strawberries. With that in mind Shadehunter swooped towards the section where the papayas were kept, after seeing how much Moon had enjoyed the one she’d had earlier. Moon’s eyes lit with interest and the corners of her mouth gained the slightest upturn before they swiftly vanished again at the sound of clomping talonsteps marching towards them.

 

“Hand it over, this food belongs to real Nightwings who need it, not some jungle mongrel only willing to join the tribe after we’re safe and sound.” a scratchy-sounding voice jeered as Shadehunter glanced at the cantankerous looking dragon before them. I bet she’s never felt the pain you get in your stomach on your fifth day without food!

 

Moon dropped the fruit near instantaneously and shrank into herself in spite of the fact that she was probably twice as strong as the dragon before them. It would almost be comical were it not for the fact that Moon was very clearly afraid of the dragon that looked so pleased with how he had intimidated her.

 

Plucking a recent memory that bothered the older dragon near constantly, Shadehunter cut in his eyes purposely lingering on the freshly healed slashes across his snout, “Don’t make me laugh Tenacity, you couldn’t fight off a single Mudwing dragonet with backup. You wouldn’t recognise a ‘ real Nightwing ’ even if one clawed off the rest of your face.”

 

Tenacity flushed with equal amounts of anger and embarrassment before spitting back vitriolically at Shadehunter, “Watch your tongue fresh-hatch, daddy’s not around to protect you anymore.”

 

Shadehunter snorted at the pathetic attempt to threaten him before flaring his wings wide and conveniently displaying the knife he kept strapped there. With his voice pitched as smooth and cold as ice, Shadehunter asserted, “I hardly ever needed Morrowseer to protect me, Tenacity.”

 

Shadehunter felt a thrill of satisfaction at the flash of fear that ran through Tenacity’s mind when he saw the dagger, its presence reminding him who exactly Shadehunter had been trained by on the volcano. In an impressive show of stupidity, Tenacity turned his back on Shadehunter leaving him wide open should Shadehunter have chosen to teach him a lesson right then and there, his tail swiping inches from Shadehunter’s face in temptation as he stormed off.

 

With the older dragon gone the tension in Moon’s wings was cut loose and they all but slumped onto the ground around her. But while the fear had left her, at the vocal confirmation of what it seemed like all her tribemates thought of her, Moon's thoughts finally surrendered to the despair that had been building all day. I’m never going to fit in here. It would have been better to stay hidden in the Rainforest.

 

Seeing Moon glumly picking at the papaya she had been so eager to eat before left Shadehunter feeling unbearably annoyed. This was his sister, the first twice-moon borne dragon in centuries. The entire tribe should be falling over themselves to be the first ones to make her welcome. 

 

If only I still had my magic then we could both safely flaunt our powers while staying protected from any potentially dangerous attention we might gain. Shadehunter thought bitterly as he tore a piece of banana peel to shreds while he tried to think of something that would make Moon feel better.

 

If you want, Deathbringer taught me how to rig traps. I’m pretty sure I could get Tenacity covered head to toe in mud and all sorts of nasty insects without getting caught. Shadehunter suggested as he looked toward an abandoned coil of rope.

 

Moon’s eyes widened in scandalised surprise at Shadehunter’s proposition before hitting him lightly on the side. Don't you dare!

 

Shadehunter grunted at the unexpected force of her blow before sending an exaggeratedly wounded side-eye in return. Oh come on, that was one of the nicer ideas I had! The only thing that’d be hurt is his pride.

 

“He was just being a little rude, it's not worth getting all up in arms about it. Besides, it doesn't really bother me.” Moon mellowed aloud but the sigh she released afterwards betrayed her.

 

To that statement Shadehunter simply sent Moon a flat look that conveyed his disbelief just as well as words would have. Moon squirmed under Shadehunter’s scrutiny but still stubbornly refused to retract her statement.

 

"If you say so, I still think he deserves that and worse." Shadehunter relented with a shrug.

 

"He's only angry because he’s sad he didn’t get to live like I did. It's the only reason any of the Nightwings are being so…” Moon hesitated for a moment and Shadehunter caught her mind first supply the word ‘Awful’ but from her mouth she only said, “cold."

 

It somewhat baffled Shadehunter, the way Moon could hear all the horrible thoughts the other Nightwings were thinking about her and still find the glimmer of goodness inside of them. Or if not the good then at least an understanding of why they were acting as horribly as they were.

 

“Yes but that doesn’t excuse the fact that they’re all being completely and utterly unfair to you. Aren’t you even a little bit tempted to indulge in some justified petty revenge?” Shadehunter cajoled as he kneaded his claws into the wood below them.

 

“Not really. I doubt ‘petty revenge’ would do anything other than make things worse.” Moon returned matter of factly.

 

Shadehunter just rolled his eyes at Moon’s complete and utter lack of vindictiveness and prodded. “It might make you feel better? It would certainly make me feel better if I were you.”

 

“Thanks for the offer, Shadehunter, but really it's fine. I’ve got you and mother, that’s enough for me.” Moon stated with finality, wiping the residual papaya juice off of her claws and onto a nearby leaf before moving up to her talons and starting towards home.

 

“Oh alright, have it your way little Moon. No rope traps for dragons that totally deserve to be taught a lesson.” Shadehunter acquiesced aloud as he followed but mused privately. Although if a few holes just happen to find their way into Tenacity’s roof then that’s just karma.

And no ‘mysterious leaks’ either! Moon asserted with a stern look that didn’t quite hide the fondness in her eyes at Shadehunter’s proposed antics. Shadehunter released an overly put-upon sigh at Moon’s insistence but with her good mood slowly returning Shadehunter found it a touch easier to agree with her.

Notes:

Well would you look what the cat dragged in. I got a little distracted the past few months because I was binge reading Robin Hobb's 'Realm of the Elderlings' series. Great books. Very dense and kinda depressing at points but wonderful prose. Anyway.

Welcome to the tribe Moon. Everyone kind of hates you and if they knew your secret it would actually make it worse.

Edit: I made a little comic strip of the exchange near the end of the chapter over here, https://www.tumblr.com/wofheadcannons/785743989060091904/shamelessly-making-art-of-my-own-fic-because-i

Thanks as always for reading and for all the kind words people have commented!

Chapter 9: Lull

The success of the Dragonets of Destiny’s peace summit and the end of the War of Sandwing Succession, while important for each and every dragon in general, changed very little of Shadehunter’s actual day to day life. The feast that was thrown when news initially reached the rainforest was about the most notable thing to happen to Shadehunter directly. Lazy though the current Rainwings were, it seemed that the prospect of a celebration was something they were willing to set aside their usual apathy for. Where usually Shadehunter would find droves of napping Rainwings, hammocks instead lay empty as the rainforest tribe worked with an unexpectedly enthused fervor in preparation for the upcoming party. Firefly-lit lanterns and vibrantly coloured flower garlands abounded near everywhere they could fit and the heady aroma of succulently prepared, richly flavoured meals filled the air. Even the more disgruntled of the Nightwings found it hard to maintain their grumpy disposition in the face of such lavishly prepared food and drink.

 

Secretkeeper, Shadehunter, and Moon had kept to themselves near the outer edges of the royal pavilion for the duration of the event. While Glory had officially pardoned her for breaking tribal law, Secretkeeper, as usual, preferred to err on the side of caution until the tribe's frosty demeanor towards them warmed. Shadehunter had silently seethed at the need for this self-imposed exclusion but watching Moon’s face light up as she tried each new dish available to them kept the majority of Shadehunter’s anger at bay.

 

After that evening of gluttony and cheer however, Shadehunter’s days soon settled into a steady, peaceful rhythm. Wake up at noon for breakfast and to train Moon on how to better control her powers. Once finished, Shadehunter would move on to help out with whatever menial tasks to help set up the village the tribe had assigned the dragonets for the day then join Moon and Secretkeeper for an evening meal. Afterwards Shadehunter would ghost away to lace a ‘mild’ irritant throughout the possessions of whichever dragon had been particularly nasty to Moon that week before finally heading back to bed. Rest, rinse, and repeat.

 

What was most surprising of all to Shadehunter though was how he almost felt content. After the sheer level of constant misery he had suffered through on the volcano, the rainforest seemed almost idyllic. Food was never rationed, the air was always clear, and by all the snakes he didn't even have to worry about Morrowseer anymore. To top it off, apparently the age-old feud with the Icewings had been put on hold according to what Deathbringer had overheard at the peace summit. At long last his tribe had been given the long needed space they required to recover. Not to mention how much happier both Secretkeeper and Moon were now that they could live side by side. Even the humdrum work of making a new home seemed somehow more significant, a glimmer of satisfaction lighting up in his chest each time a new building was finished. It was almost perfect...

 

Almost.

 

Because for all that the rainforest was an improvement to the volcano, it could never match the splendor of his home from the past. Nightwings used to be regarded as bastions of knowledge. They were known as the tribe that was constantly at the forefront of progress and development. To go from the most well respected Queendom in the continent to being forced into servitude to a dragon that was not their own was unacceptable no matter how fair and competent they might prove to be.

 

Because for all that Moon was reunited with her family now, as it was, the Nightwings around her would never be her tribe. Not while they looked at her and sneered. Not while Secretkeeper sent the two of them worried looks the moment she suspected they were using their powers. Not while Shadehunter and Moon had to pretend they were nothing more than ordinary for fear of the target it might place on their backs.

 

Because for all that he was safe for now, while his scroll was in the talons of some thieving wyrm everything he had could be threatened with a single stroke of a quill. That's without even mentioning the rumour that Queen Glacier only agreed to make peace with the Nightwings because they were under Glory's control. If Shadehunter was ever going to reclaim his tribe's independence he wanted insurance against any unjust Icewing aggression such an action might provoke.

 

He needed his scroll back.

 

With the war over and the prospect of travel finally, finally, available to him, Shadehunter needed it with an intensity that made his scales itch.

 

These thoughts had gnawed at Shadehunter on and off as the weeks passed by in a constant whispering paranoia that refused to let him relax completely in the tribe's new-found rainforest paradise. This morning however, they were aggressive enough to ruin Shadehunter’s concentration completely as he looked down at Moon during their usual daily training session. I refuse to remain powerless and risk letting what happened with Whiteout happen to Moon.

 

“You’ve almost got it, little Moon.” Shadehunter encouraged absentmindedly from his perch as his claws carved away at a leftover deer bone he was steadily turning into, what would hopefully resemble, a simple snake earring.

 

Moon’s ear briefly twitched in acknowledgement of Shadehunter’s words but nearly all of her focus remained internal and even from her position on the forest floor, Shadehunter could see how her face was pinched with effort. As was tradition for their training, the two dragonets were settled behind Secretkeeper's den just barely within the boundaries of the village and well out of earshot of any potential eavesdroppers.

 

“You do know that nickname makes no sense, right Shade? I’m taller than you.” Moon muttered offhandedly as she continued to try and replicate the shielding technique Shadehunter had just explained to her. Twice-moon blessed though she may be, Shadehunter still had the benefit of years of practice on his side with which to slither his way past the downpour Moon summoned to try and keep him at bay. Not that my height is exactly helping me out here anyways.

 

“Maybe, but compared to Imperial you’re positively miniscule.” Shadehunter retorted, flicking his tongue out teasingly. Moon just grunted in response to that but at Shadehunter’s continued intrusion past her defenses Moon opted to try to and split Shadehunter’s focus by lobbing a question of her own his way.

 

“Who’s Whiteout? I don’t think I’ve seen her around?” Moon asked leadingly to accidental yet undeniably astounding success.

 

With a full-bodied flinch of surprise, Shadehunter immediately retreated from his assault as he pulled down a tsunami of shadow to protect his rampant thoughts from being spied upon. Darkstalker, thrice moon blessed as he had been, could block out all other minder-readers with almost subconscious ease. Shadehunter on the other talon, with only the meager moonlight of Perception to his name, had to put in concentrated tiring effort if he didn’t want his mind sneezing his secrets all over the place. It was a cold comfort that although Shadehunter could no longer keep each and every one of his thoughts private, at least when it was truly important, like now, he was still powerful enough to keep others out. [Come on Shadehunter, you’re literally running a lesson on shielding your thoughts, pull yourself together!]

 

Noticing the sudden lack of attack and the new impregnable defensive barrier Shadehunter had put up, Moon sent her brother a confused look, her interest piqued even further by his strong reaction towards such a seemingly simple question. In spite of her desire to know what Shadehunter was hiding, Moon, with all the kindness Shadehunter had come to expect from her, only added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it seems like you care about her a lot. You always seem to compare me to her.”

 

Cursing underneath his breath, both at his apparent carelessness around Moon and the notch his flinch had gouged into his fledgling carving, Shadehunter just sighed already knowing he couldn't find it within himself to deny Moon's innocent curiosity. Abandoning his ruined attempt at carpentry, Shadehunter’s gaze followed the bone’s descent as it paralleled his own ruminations on what to say.

 

“She’s… she’s just a character from a scroll. It's an old story about a family doomed to tragedy but I loved it all the same.” Shadehunter explained hesitantly before he finished with a subdued whisper. “Sometimes I still think there’s a way to change the ending.” 

 

Training well and truly forgotten, Moon leapt up deftly to settle down next to Shadehunter on his perch. Seeing Shadehunter display an attitude that was for once neither slyly glib or cuttingly insulting, Moon gently prompted him with a nudge of her tail, “Tell me about it.”

 

Shadehunter paused for a moment wondering if there was any risk in telling Moon anything about his history but ultimately disregarded his fear as unfounded. For all intents and purposes what had happened to him was just another ancient tale lost to history, the only proof linking Shadehunter to his past was within the confines of his own mind. Even if Moon stumbled on some of his dusty old memories there was no way she'd be able to recognise them as anything other than the overactive imagination of a fellow dragonet. Besides, Shadehunter was tired of the way the current Nightwings dragged his old name through the mud. If anyone was going to know even a scrap of the real story of what happened to him, without the years of slow-building paranoia and fear, Shadehunter decided it was going to be Moon.

 

"Well to start with we need to know about the main character." Shadehunter began as he puffed out his chest, his melancholy fading slightly as he fell into the familiar rhythm of weaving a tale to a captive audience. "He was a phenomenally intelligent Nightwing, blessed with animus magic and every gift the moon's above could offer one of our noble tribe. His skill in mindreading and prophecy was unmatched by all that had come before him. With the power he wielded he was destined to lead the tribe toward the brightest future imaginable."

 

Unable to stop himself from indulging in the dramatics he so enjoyed, Shadehunter rose to his hindlegs and flung his wings upward at the end of his sentence as though this legendary figure would have gifted the tribe the very sky itself.

 

To this Moon sent him an amused look that seemed to pierce through Shadehunter's exaggerated boasting even though he was supposedly talking about a fictional figure. “Ah now I see why you like him so much, he had a big enough ego to match yours. Did this Nightwing also happen to be called Shadehunter?”

 

At Moon's lighthearted jab toward his own grandstanding, Shadehunter flopped back down to all fours with a huff before answering Moon's question with a wry grin, "No, no, only I was gifted with such a perfect name. This old legend simply had to settle for Darkstalker."

 

Moon shivered minutely and Shadehunter stifled a pout at her unspoken reaction to his old name. [Well I suppose not everyone can appreciate Mother's artistic talent.]

 

"To cut a long story short, while Darkstalker tried his hardest to pave the way for his tribe to succeed, the odds were stacked against him from the start. From a paranoid Nightwing Queen that tried to murder him to a vengeful Icewing Grandmother that stole away his mother, those standing in his way were desperate to ensure he failed." Shadehunter continued, his voice gaining a slight growl as he described those who had wronged him. "In his haste to stop those that would hurt him and those he loved, Darkstalker chose to strike back." 

 

Flashes of Whiteout's tear-streaked expression ran through the walled-off corners of his mind and stopped him in the middle of his recollection. Shadehunter refused to entertain the thought that Arctic hadn't earned what had happened to him but for Whiteout he could admit that maybe he should have shown his father a sliver of mercy. Not for Arctic's sake. Never for that traitor. But Whiteout hadn't wanted him dead and his sister had deserved the world. Even if it came at the cost of curbing his own vengeance on the one who deserved it the most.

 

[Not to mention what Clearsight's visio-] With practiced efficiency Shadehunter cut that thought off at the head before it could finish. Now was not the time to prod at that wound.

 

Taking Shadehunter’s silent pause as an invitation for her to speak, Moon broke in to ask, "What did he do?"

 

Shadehunter glanced at Moon from the corner of his eye and although he could see she was fully immersed in the tale he was spinning he couldn't bring himself to explain what he had alluded to. For all that Moon's life was lonely it had always been peaceful. She wouldn't understand the rage he had felt and Shadehunter had no desire to explain it to her. Not when it might tarnish the unblemished compassion Moon held so effortlessly.

 

"He planned to do to others what they would have done to him." Shadehunter answered shortly with a dark undercurrent to his tone before swiftly moving on in case she chose to press him further. "But, his most trusted friends, Fathom and Clearsight, unable to see that his actions were for their sake and the sake of the bright horizon he was working towards began to fear him. And so they cast him away never to be seen again."

 

Moon mulled his story over quietly, whatever thoughts ticking away inside her head remaining hidden from Shadehunter whilst he protected his own. "It's sad. Both what happened to him and that his friends felt like their only option was to stop him... but you still haven’t mentioned Whiteout. Who was she and what happened to her?"

 

“Within that tangled web of ambition and politics was Whiteout, Darkstalker's dearest sister. She was utterly unique in all of Pyrrhia and had a coat of scales the beauty of which was only matched by that of her thoughts. Where you and I think in structured words and images, Whiteout’s thoughts flowed in a waterfall of colour. They were utterly incomprehensible and all the more wonderful for it.” Shadehunter reminisced lightly before his face fell as he finally spoke the words he had unconsciously been avoiding. “All we know about what happened to her though was that she was left behind. Alone in the world after one by one the family she cared so much about was taken away from her. Killed, betrayed, and stolen all because of a war the bloodthirsty Icewings started. Because that 'oh so superior' tribe just couldn’t bear the thought that two hybrids had the audacity to exist."

 

Shadehunter tried to keep the venom dripping in his thoughts contained within his walls but the uneasy expression Moon wore told Shadehunter that he hadn't quite managed to hide his hatred completely. Just recalling what had happened to his sister because of those moons-blasted Icewings had him all but grinding his teeth. If they had just left him and his family alone Foeslayer never would have been taken, Arctic never would have abducted Whiteout, and Clearsight and Fathom never would have felt like they needed to betray him. All of which led back to the thorn that splintered Shadehunter’s thoughts: his frustrating lack of an all-powerful animus scroll.

 

That however led to his current question: how in the Great Ice Dragon’s name was he going to find it? If he still had his foresight it would have been a simple matter of looking into the future until Shadehunter found the path that would lead him to it. Powerless as he was now though, Shadehunter had no idea how to go about finding a scroll so small within a continent so large. [Although… there is someone here who can see the future.]

 

Shadehunter knew it was a long shot, Moon’s visions so far had all been sporadic, cryptic, or painfully mundane. They were hardly something Shadehunter could use to reliably track down his talisman but it would be a start.

 

Plastering the best conspiratorial look he could muster over whatever sordid expression he had been wearing before, Shadehunter leaned in as though to whisper a treasured secret. “The tale goes however that before he was cast away Darkstalker left behind a relic. Knowing the risk that animus magic posed to his soul he made the masterful decision to seal it in a scroll so that he could cast as many spells as he wished without any of the side effects.”

 

Moon pulled back and looked thoroughly confused at Shadehunter’s sudden change in tone from simmering anger to mischievous cheer. Whatever thoughts she might have been having about Whiteout and the way Shadehunter inextricably linked the two in his mind were cleared away at the suddenness with which Shadehunter switched focus.

 

[That transition could have used a little work.] Shadehunter noted ruefully as he dialed back the slightly manic grin he wore into something more subdued.

 

Moon’s nose wrinkled doubtfully once she processed what Shadehunter said, “That sounds too good to be true. Surely the magic still had a cost or otherwise every animus would have done something similar.”

 

Everyone’s a critic. Shadehunter thought as a wisp of smoke escaped his nostrils before he valiantly pushed onwards past Moonwatcher's skepticism, “Well whether it worked flawlessly or not, rumor has it that it's still around to this day. And with your visions and my charming personality we could even be the ones to find it.”

 

Shadehunter could already tell that he was losing her. Moon had had scrolls for friends throughout all her years alone in the jungle so he couldn’t blame her for being sharp enough to be dubious of such an unsubstantiated claim. “Doesn’t that seem a little far-fetched Shadehunter? Surely if something so powerful existed, it would be well documented by now and locked up in the deepest vault of some Queen somewhere.”

 

“Not if it was lost or if you wanted to keep it a secret. A final weapon to be held in reserve. Who better to ferret out a lost animus relic than a pair of mind readers with a dash of foresight.” Shadehunter rallied before opting for a different tactic upon seeing that Moon’s steadfast disbelief remained unmoved.

 

With an exaggerated exhale, Shadehunter affected a look of bashful embarrassment, turning  away slightly and lowering his ears a touch to really sell it.

 

“Look, I know it seems a little silly, but on the days the volcano was especially bad I’d dream of what I could have done with that scroll. How much sooner could I have saved the tribe, all without spilling a single drop of Rainwing blood, if I had access to that power. On the off chance that it does exist there’s so much good that we could achieve, I just know it.”

 

As Shadehunter trailed off he loosened his walls just enough to let Moon take a peek into his head because for all that he was obscuring how he knew about his scroll what he had said wasn’t a lie. There were a lot of good things, great things even, that they could do if they got his scroll. Certainly they’d do better than the un-imaginative coward that currently had access to it judging by the complete and utter lack of any noteworthy magic in Pyrrhia. If Shadehunter had had his scroll, he would have saved his tribe in a heartbeat. Once the Nightwings regained their former glory they could even help out the other tribes as well. Not to the same extent of course but a couple spells here and there could only help establish the Nightwings as the greatest tribe on the continent.

 

At this, Moon’s face softened as her own deep-set compassion instantly found connection in the saccharine-sweet dream he let her see. “Okay, okay pull on my heartstrings why don’t you. I still think it's a pipedream but if I stumble into foreseeing an reality-bending artifact I’ll let you know. Just don’t expect any miracles alright, sometimes it feels like you understand my visions better than I do.”

 

Upon hearing confirmation that Moon would help a sliver of tension inside his chest he hadn’t even noticed was there eased. It didn’t solve all his problems, talons and teeth it barely even helped, but it was more than he had this morning. Speaking of problems however it’s high time I helped with one of Moon’s.

 

Sending a truly grateful smile Moon’s way he twined his tail with hers briefly in thanks before gliding elegantly to the ground and announcing, “Now I have something more exciting than discussing old stories for us to do today. Meet me in the northern clearing near the old oak tree in fifteen minutes, there's something I need to pick up.”

 

~

 

Shadehunter crashed heavily right beside the patch of grass Mightyclaws had been lounging on. With a startled yelp, Mightyclaws jumped unsteadily to his talons before unceremoniously toppling right back over onto his side.

 

Shadehunter let out a bark of laughter before trying to level an interrogating tone around the smile that he couldn't quite hide, “‘Claws! It feels like it's been ages since I’ve seen you. You haven’t been avoiding me have you?”

 

“What? Of course not!” Mightyclaws denied as he stood back up more slowly, ears pinning in offense with their tips glowing a light shade of embarrassed red. Not you at least.

 

Putting a wing around Mightyclaws to drag the dragonet alongside him as he moved, Shadehunter replied jovially, “Good! Then let's head out for a hunt then, I’m sure there’s a boar out there with your name on it.”

 

Mightyclaws briefly looked back longingly at the sketch he had been doodling into the forest floor before resigning himself to whatever shenanigans Shadehunter had planned for him.

 

“Hunting a boar? I don’t know, my dad hasn’t taught me how to hunt here yet…” Mightyclaws questioned doubtfully before continuing his uncertainty silently, As far as I know, none of the dragonets have had enough time to learn how to catch prey in the rainforest yet. But, if Shade’s figured it out already I’m not gonna pass up an extra meal.

 

“Fear not Tinyclaws ‘cause I’ve snagged us an expert to help us out.” Shadehunter assured with a confident spring to his step, feeling more certain than ever that his plan was bound for success.

 

Mightyclaws shook his head in disbelief before adding teasingly, “I know you’ve always been a real mama’s boy Shade but I don’t think Secretkeeper counts.”

 

Shadehunter sent a half-hearted swipe Mightyclaws’ way that the dragonet easily dodged before retorting, “She totally does you smoke-snorter. Don't worry though, in my magnanimity I foresaw your skepticism and arranged for someone that’s sure to pass even your exacting standards.”

 

At Shadehunter’s assuaging words Mightyclaws frowned, already starting to suspect who exactly the mindreader was referring to. A frown that deepened when, after having slunk their way out of the village, that suspicion was proven correct.

 

Upon hearing the sound of approaching talonsteps, Moon’s attention was drawn up from where she’d been trying to weave a line of delicate ghost-white flowers together. Moon's look of mild alarm upon spotting Mightyclaws matched her thoughts of, When Shadehunter said he had, ‘something to pick up’ I didn't think he meant an entire dragonet!

 

Shadehunter merely flashed her a cheshire grin. Well I didn't want to ruin the surprise.

 

Looking back at Mightyclaws’ and seeing the consternated expression there, Shadehunter briefly wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have roped in Deathbringer instead before quickly dismissing that idea. For all Deathbringer’s happy-go-lucky nature made him easier to talk to, Shadehunter doubted Moon would really mesh well with him. For one he was older than both of them and for the other the way the assassin was constantly running threat assessments in the back of his mind was bound to unnerve Moon’s more gentle nature. Not to mention how busy Deathbringer is staring longingly at Glory now that he’s her ‘official Nightwing liaison’.

 

Shaking off his doubts with a swift, near silent, exhale, Shadehunter pushed forward with a confidence that was mostly real.

 

Lifting a wing on each side to introduce both of his companions to one another Shadehunter spoke, “Moon, this is Mightyclaws; artist extraordinaire and the brightest spark to escape the volcano. Mightyclaws, this is my sister Moon. She’s sweeter than honey and quicker than a comet.”

 

Pushing down her discomfort, Moon admirably forced her spines to settle into a semblance of relaxed nonchalance before speaking up, “I’m guessing Shadehunter didn’t warn you about this either? Nice to meet you anyway Mightyclaws.”

 

“Yeah you get used to it. Shadehunter’s always enjoyed arranging annoying little surprises like these.” Mightyclaws answered with a snort of bemused agreement that broke through his silent wariness before he quickly re-donned a mask of neutrality. Not that you would know what with your perfect life in your perfect rainforest.

“I’ll have you know these ‘annoying little surprises’ are what netted us all that extra fish back on the island.” Shadehunter rejoined imperiously and though it gained him a scoff of amusement it did little to dissolve the tension between the two.

 

Both of them lingered in an awkward quiet for long enough that Shadehunter almost decided to sling another joke, if only to break the silence, before Mightyclaws surprised him with a question of his own. “So can you really hunt as well as Shadehunter says you can? Fruit’s better than nothing but there’s only so much I can stomach.”

 

Suspicion etched his tone and his brow was marred with a scowl but Shadehunter could feel the strength of Mightyclaws’ underlying longing. If she really does know how to fly through this maze of a Queendom I could eat as much as I wanted whenever I wanted! No more jockeying for the best food for the day or pitying looks from the Rainwings on duty.

 

“I can. I’d be happy to teach you if you wanted to learn?” Moon offered with a slight smile, her anxiety easing at being broached with a topic she felt confident in, before she tentatively added, “Maybe in return you could help me with this flower crown I’m making. I saw some of the Rainwings wearing them at the celebration a couple weeks ago and I wanted to try making my own but they keep falling to pieces before I can finish them.”

 

Mightyclaws just nodded at her request but some of the indifference he felt slipped away at Moon’s simple yet heartfelt request. Did she really not have anyone to teach her how to make something as simple as a flower crown?

 

“It's a deal.” Mightyclaws answered gruffly before continuing hesitantly yet with the sincerity Shadehunter had always appreciated from him, “You’ll want a frame if you’re planning to use Starfalls. Their stems are far too fragile to hold together on their own.”

 

From there the conversation flowed, and although it was still far more stilted then what Shadehunter would expect were he alone with either of them that was alright. The cold front Mightyclaws had initially presented was already starting to melt and at the prospect of making a new friend some of Moon’s nervousness was already fading. With a swagger to his stride at a scheme pulled off, Shadehunter followed along.

Notes:

There we go got it out in a month(ish).

Mightyclaws is back for a bit because I love him, Moon gets to learn a little smidgen of history, and Shadehunter gets to monologue.

Thanks as always for reading my nonsense :))

Chapter 10: Invitations

Shadehunter toyed distractedly with the gift between his claws. Amber gleamed in imitation of a pair of eyes from where it was inset inside of an intricately carved snake head. It was a work of art that Shadehunter, with his fumbling claws and frustrated impatience, could never hope to replicate. After having witnessed several of Shadehunter’s failed attempts to carve such an earring, Mightyclaws had finally taken pity on the mind-reader and offered to make him one. Embarrassment had coursed through Shadehunter at having his inability to do something Fathom could have accomplished effortlessly noticed, but the desire for treasure of his own after going so long unadorned outweighed any hesitation he had felt.

 

So, after Shadehunter had dragged down a jaguar to share with his friend, both for its materials and as a meal to thank Mightyclaws for his generosity, the silver-horned dragonet got to work.

 

“Mom apparently used to be a jeweller before the volcano started getting really bad.” Mightyclaws had explained off-handedly as his claws expertly shore off paper-thin slivers of bone to shape the burgeoning earring up to his standards. “Now that we’re in the rainforest though, things are finally stable enough for her to put some time back into her old trade and she was able to show me a trick or two.”

 

Shadehunter had watched, entranced, as Mightyclaws cleanly carved along the lines of charcoal he had marked out on the bone. Where Shadehunter would have hastily clawed in an attempt to re-create what he saw in his mind's eye, Mightyclaws worked slowly and methodically, often pausing to re-examine his work from a multitude of angles to ensure its accuracy.

 

A couple days later Mightyclaws had returned and pressed the finished product into Shadehunter’s astonished talons. To the exaggerated fountain of praise he received for his work, Mightyclaws had simply shrugged in dismissal of Shadehunter’s flattery and lifted a claw to his own ear to tap at a tiny diamond stud Shadehunter had never seen before.

 

“It was just good timing is all. My parents made me this for my hatching day. Now we match!” Mightyclaws had beamed excitedly before shooting Shadehunter a wink as he revealed his nefarious true intentions. “Besides, giving you something flashy will draw everyone’s attention away from me. While you’re busy fending off the vultures, my own far nicer treasure will be safe and sound.”

 

When Moon and Secretkeeper returned that evening, Shadehunter had shown it off to his fellow mind reader immediately. Moon had gasped softly in awe once she saw it, her claws delicately trailing down the razor-thin pattern of scales that had been engraved into the earring’s body. However, her impressed smile diminished slightly once Shadehunter told her who it was from.

 

While Shadehunter knew that he was a bit of a consummate liar, he never really thought of it that way. Sure, Shadehunter might tend to leave the truth unsaid with more regularity than most, but that was almost always because doing so was what kept him alive. If Queen Vigilance had ever known about his scroll, she would have had him killed in a heartbeat. If he had told Clearsight about making his scales invulnerable and let her talk him out of it, that spear would have pierced his chest clean through. Stars forbid how Morrowseer would have used him had the conniving old bastard known about Shadehunter’s mind reading.

 

Not to mention how those few I did trust completely were the ones that betrayed me the worst. Although… weren’t the earrings I gave her the only reason she couldn’t see- With an obstinate shake of his head, Shadehunter had banished the line of reasoning that would only lead to a carousel of blame and leave him feeling sad and bitter.

 

Regardless of the past, the problem now was that as Moon and Mightyclaws were becoming friends, Shadehunter couldn’t escape the constant underlying discomfort she felt at keeping their powers hidden. When Moon had looked at him imploringly, as though to ask how they could possibly continue to keep Mightyclaws in the dark after receiving such a beautiful gift, Shadehunter took the slightly less chivalrous option and glanced purposefully at Secretkeeper. You know what Mother would say, we can’t let anyone know what we can do. Mightyclaws has just barely started to get to know you. Are you sure you want to put that trust to the test?

 

To that, Moon had just sighed morosely but let the matter drop. She obviously wasn’t happy about it, but knowing that both Secretkeeper and Shadehunter believed it was best to keep quiet  was enough to convince Moon of the necessity of deceiving Mightyclaws.

 

Upon seeing Moon’s dissatisfied expression however, Shadehunter couldn’t help but snap his own wings slightly in agitation in an attempt to ward off the feelings of guilt that emanated from the lump of a dragon lying on the moss-laden bed across the room.

 

Because what really troubled him was that, try as he might to deny it, Shadehunter did feel the slightest bit bad and adding Moon’s own overbearing shame onto the pile wasn’t helping. The lack of control that came with possessing only one moon’s worth of power kept placing unexpected hurdles for Shadehunter to stumble over. It used to be so much easier to block out the feelings from other dragons he didn’t want to acknowledge, but now they always seemed to find a way past his guard and bit him whenever he wanted to ignore them the most.

 

The moment I get my powers back he’ll be the first one I tell. Shadehunter vowed as he returned to the present, putting a stop to his idle fidgeting and affixing the serpentine earring in place. I would have done so already had Fathom not blinded me to every danger the future could hold. Until I can be absolutely sure that both Moon and I will be safe I can’t run the risk of flaunting the only advantage I have left.

 

A knock on the doorframe of Secretkeeper’s ramshackle hut brought Shadehunter out of his brooding. After rising to his talons, Shadehinter strode towards the hut’s entrance and pulled aside the deer hide pelt that curtained off the outside world. To Shadehunter’s surprise, it was none other than Starflight, his talons fiddling nervously in front of him as he stood in the doorway. Even if Shadehunter hadn’t already seen him on the volcano, the distinctive scarring and the blindfold he now bore made the prophecy dragon instantaneously recognisable.

 

Starflight's reputation was something well contested within the tribe. Whenever Shadehunter espied him as he visited the Nightwing village, Fatespeaker near-always prattling aimlessly at his side, he drew a variety of looks from many of the Nightwings they passed. For every bitter patriot that blamed Starflight for betraying them to the Rainwings, there was another Nightwing that thanked the stars he had been able to negotiate a place for them when the volcano threatened to kill them all.

 

More importantly to Shadehunter however, was that Starflight seemed to have found a soft spot for Moon. After Starflight had literally bumped into Moon while she was reading a scroll, in one of the rare instances Fatespeaker wasn’t around, the two of them hit it off rather well. While Shadehunter enjoyed reading just as much as any other Nightwing, both Starflight and Moon seemed to share an endless voracity for knowledge that went beyond anything Shadehunter could muster. Ever since then, Starflight had dropped by every once in a while during the few occasions he had business to take care of in the Nightwing village. Whether it was just to say hello or to give Moon a scroll he thought she might enjoy, with each subsequent visit Shadehunter felt all the more assured that listening to Deathbringer had been the right call.

 

I suppose that stopping the war was also kind of impressive as well. Shadehunter admitted as his eyes adjusted to the dappled sunlight streaming from the canopy. Up close, and with the rainforest’s much brighter atmosphere, Shadehunter spotted hints of azure peeking their way out of the blind dragon’s otherwise jet-coloured overcoat.

 

“Hello, Moon, is that you?” Starflight asked uncertainty, forcibly stopping his talons from worrying at his blindfold. Oh, I hope I’ve got the right place. I’m almost completely certain I do but it’s always so dreadfully embarrassing when I get turned around.

 

“Just Shadehunter I’m afraid. Moon’s out with Secretkeeper at the moment but they’ll be back soon enough if you’re willing to stick around? I’m sure mother wouldn’t mind if you wanted to wait inside.” Shadehunter proposed amicably, his wing extending to brush one of Starflight’s in an unspoken invitation to help guide the sightless dragon inside.

 

As their wings connected, Shadehunter was struck by a salvo of thoughts made all the stronger by their physical touch. Worries spilled from the young dragon’s brain like ink on parchment- worries about how his friends were doing- worries about the scope of the project he was trying to achieve- worries about if Fatespeaker would ever get sick of helping out an anxious blind dragon like him- and, most pressingly, worries about the unexpected dragonet inviting him inside. Ah, Shadehunter. Morrowseer’s son. It's still hard to believe that monster had a dragonet but both Moon and Deathbringer speak well of him so I should do my best to keep most of my reservations in check.

 

Starflight, impressively, let none of his internal concerns show and instead accepted Shadehunter’s invitation with a polite smile and a gracious, “So long as it's fine with you, that sounds wonderful.”

 

With a feather-light press of his wing, Shadehunter helped Starflight navigate the confines of his home until they were both seated before a freshly sawn table, the only piece of crafted furniture residing in their home.

 

“Tea?” Shadehunter asked with a cordial tone as he rummaged through the meager pile of crockery his family possessed.

 

“If you don’t mind.” Starflight acquiesced mildly, his attention lost in the movement of his talons as they sorted their way through countless sheafs of paper in the satchel strapped to his chest. Shadehunter briefly wondered how on Pyrrhia Starflight was differentiating them until the mind reader caught an echo of thoughts counting upward that matched the movement of his claws.

 

With a sweep of his tail, Shadehunter cleared a space in the center of the hut before setting down a metallic pail of water. Ever so carefully, Shadehunter let loose a finely controlled river of flame until the water started to bubble nicely. Moving over to the slab of stone that acted as their makeshift shelf, Shadehunter’s blade flashed as it diced leaves into shreds before he sheathed it and scooped the remnants of his handiwork into two simple wooden cups. Steam rose softly from where Shadehunter poured the boiling water and the room was quickly filled with the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed tea.

 

Of all the ways that the old Night Queendom outclassed the rainforest, Shadehunter had to admit that the variety of food and drink was not one of them. 2000 years ago Shadehunter would have had to pay through the nose for such a luxury but, with the rainforest as verdant as it was, now even the refugee Nightwings were given free access to the Rainwings’ plentiful stores.

 

“Careful, it's hot.” Shadehunter warned as he passed the cup to Starflight, the destiny dragon having successfully freed a pair of papers from where they’d been hidden in his bag while Shadehunter was busy.

 

With a gentle exhale over the drink cupped in his talons, Starflight took a small sip before releasing a heavy sigh of contentment that revealed an exhaustion he had previously kept concealed. “This is very nice, thank you. You have no idea how busy I’ve been.”

 

Shadehunter just nodded as he settled down on the opposite side of the table before releasing a hum of agreement upon remembering that non-verbal cues obviously wouldn’t work with his guest.

 

“So, Starflight, what brings you to our humble abode? Are you here to drop off some more reading material for the little ‘scroll-wyrm’ club you and Moon have going?” Shadehunter quizzed lightly, relishing the heat of his drink but wincing a little at the bitter flavour as he swallowed. Definitely fewer leaves next time, and a dash of honey if I’m ever lucky enough to find some.

 

Starflight chuckled slightly at the moniker, his thoughts darting to memories of a younger Seawing that must have been Tsunami affectionately launching similar ‘titles’ his way, before he shook his head.

 

“While I am technically leaving something for Moon to read, I’m actually here for both of you.” Starflight corrected as he moved one of the two letters he’d placed on the table over to Shadehunter.

 

At that, Shadehunter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he picked up the envelope Starflight had sent his way. “Really, one of the great Dragonets of Destiny has business with little old me? Should I be concerned?”

 

“No, no it's nothing to fret over. In fact, we would have just had a Rainwing courier deliver these but Sunny insisted that where possible we should deliver them personally. Not to mention half of these are for Rainwings who are all…” Starflight expounded before hastily taking another sip of tea as he tried to find a polite way to finish his sentence.

 

Slower than sloths. Shadehunter surmised as he used a claw to break the envelope’s seal. But, given the destiny dragon’s relation to the young Rainwing Queen, Shadehunter chose to let that comment lie unspoken.

 

“Adjusting to non-oratory draconic practices.” Starflight managed awkwardly, his choice of words far too technical to sound even passably conversational.

 

With a roll of his eyes, Shadehunter smoothly slipped the paper out of its packaging as he turned his focus from his interlocutor and quickly skimmed the message addressed to him.

 

Shadehunter of the Nightwings,

After the bloodshed of the past twenty years we, the Dragonets of Destiny, believe that it is the solemn duty of every dragon on the continent to do all they can to prevent such a monumental loss of life from ever happening again. In the pursuit of such a lofty goal, Queen Glory of the Rain-Night tribe has deemed you fit for the honor of representing the Nightwings in the latest initiative to foster peace and understanding between the tribes. 

As such, you have been cordially invited to attend the up and coming semester of the newly established ‘Jade Mountain Academy’, the first inter-tribal school to be officially recognised by every reigning Queen in Pyrrhia.

Classes will begin on Imperial’s first spring full-moon should you choose to accept. We strongly encourage you to take the time to arrive at Jade Mountain at least one day early so that you might familiarise yourself with the layout of the school and introduce yourself to your new clawmates.

We wish you the power of Wings of Fire ~ The Dragonets Of Destiny.

 

“Huh.” Shadehunter uttered somewhat moronically once he finished reading as he processed what exactly this invitation could mean. Ah, I guess I finally know what the maze of tunnels Moon had seen in her visions is about now.

 

On the other side of the table, while Shadehunter had silently read through the letter, Starflight's anxiety had gotten the better of him and manifested in the rhythmic tapping of his tail against the floor. Was the letter too verbose? I know Clay and Tsunami both thought it was ‘a bit stuffy’ for an invitation to a school, but better to be overly pompous than offensively casual. Especially given that these letters are going to be sent to royals, nobles, advisors, and whatever Shadehunter is classified under as: ‘son of the recently deceased leader in absentia whilst your Queen was half-dead’.

 

“That’s a good ‘oh’ I hope?” Starflight forced out once he could bear the quiet no more.

 

“Ah yes of course! I’m just flattered you chose me of all dragons, it took me by surprise.” Shadehunter recovered quickly after noticing how long of a stupor he’d fallen into.

 

An inter-tribal school. It's definitely a… unique idea, especially so soon after the war. But attending a project headed by the ‘dragonets of destiny’ would definitely endear me to Glory. Although it would mean I’d have to play nice with whatever Icewings might show up. Shadehunter concluded only somewhat irately. While those he might have had a personal grudge against were all long dead, Shadehunter doubted that any new ones he might encounter would be less deserving of his enmity. If he were being honest, with how fundamentally different each tribe was, Shadehunter had no idea how such a school would function, but its existence might lead to a very appealing avenue for him to explore.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking though, as it caters to every tribe does that mean that there’ll be scrolls from each Queendom as well?” Shadehunter inquired casually, wary of betraying the game too quickly.

 

At this Starflight’s ears perked up and Shadehunter knew he’d lucked into asking the right dragon the right question.

 

“Yes! As the future head librarian of Jade Mountain Academy, my dream is to eventually have a copy of every single scroll I can get my talons on.” Starflight proclaimed enthusiastically, his talons gesticulating excitedly even as his mind radiated with pride at the idea. “We’re hoping that by offering scrolls from every tribe it might encourage our students to try writing something themselves. At the moment Seawings and Nightwings hold a bit of a duopoly on the written word but we’ve got our claws crossed that Jade Mountain might change that.”

 

Supposedly the Icewings have a sizable collection of writing as well but with that giant ice wall of theirs separating them from the rest of Pyrrhia it's been rather difficult to verify the truth of that statement. Starflight noted silently as a runaway frown briefly made its way onto his face before being hidden as he finished off his drink. Shadehunter stifled a snort at Starflight’s speculation and the peevish indignation he felt at being denied access to a whole tribe’s worth of his beloved reading material.

 

“Does that mean you’ll be gathering scrolls on animus-touched objects as well?” Shadehunter queried with an interested lean that he couldn’t quite stop even as he tried his best to force the burning hunger from his voice.

 

Starflight paused and folded his talons as he took a moment to catalogue what he had planned for his future library so far, having been caught off-guard by the specificity of Shadehunter’s inquiry. “Yes, we are planning to gather a few, but it won’t be a major focus. We want to offer as wide a spread of information as possible so that there’ll be something of interest for everyone to read."

 

Shadehunter’s ear flicked irritatedly at the disappointing answer Starflight had conferred before he decided on a gamble to push his agenda as far as he dared.

 

“A minor focus? I thought it was an animus artifact that let you guys stop the war in the first place though?” Shadehunter puzzled, as though earnestly confused, before shrugging to himself as he dismissed his earlier question lackadaisically. “Oh well, you’re the ones that actually stopped the war, not me. If you think Pyrrhia’s stable enough now that it doesn’t need to know what relics are out there, then I'm sure it'll be fine. More tea?”

 

After that, Shadehunter kept his questions fixed on the mundane; what classes to expect, who would be teaching them, and other such small talk. But, in the back of Starflight’s mind a small seed burrowed its way into his thoughts. It whispered thoughts of just how badly things might have ended at that pivotal peace summit if Sunny hadn’t chanced upon the long-lost amulet, of how hard it had been to get the Queens to commit to pulling out their troops even after Thorn had been divinely ordained as the rightful ruler of the Sandwings. Its roots tore at how even getting their harmless, awesome academy approved had taken weeks of bargaining, strong-arming, and pleading with how reluctant the Queens had been to entrust their subjects to an inter-tribal school.

 

Already, Shadehunter could see the flower that would eventually bloom. That maybe it wouldn’t be Starflight’s worst idea if he told Fatespeaker to keep an extra eye out for scrolls on animus magic if it might help the peace they fought so hard for last just that much longer.

Notes:

To absolutely no-ones surprise we're heading to JMA, which means its time for me to read 'Moon Rising' again lol.

Shadehunter also gets to feel one iota of remorse for lying to a friend. Call that character growth!

In unrelated news I have thoughts about the background politics behind how Jade Mountain was approved and the resolution of the War of Sandwing succession after Thorn was chosen by the Eye of Onyx but that isn't really relevant to this fic sadly. I might do a one-shot that covers that someday but who knows.

Anyway thanks so much for reading and have a good rest of your day/night :))

Chapter 11: Arrival

Like a Queen’s ransom of gemstones, a trove of dragons cut through the air above Jade Mountain as they soared down to land in front of the cavernous opening. Scales shone as beaming sunlight lit up the flock before him in a stunning display of colour, a mix of which Shadehunter hadn’t seen since the heyday of the old Night Queendom’s traders market. From sapphire blues to ruby reds, dragons that would normally have wanted to stay as far away from one another as possible were forced to intermingle in this strange new school the Dragonets of Destiny had cobbled together. Naturally, the flakes of polished ebony still looked the best in Shadehunter’s humble opinion, but having other tribes in such close vicinity did help their obsidian hues to stand out all the more pleasantly. Especially when compared to the web of shadows cast by the overarching branches Shadehunter found himself hidden beneath.

 

Off to the side of that bustling, noisy scene, Shadehunter watched the dragons in front of him with an eagerness that emphasised Moon’s own timidity. While Shadehunter barely restrained himself from launching off the border of the cliff he was perched on, Moon stayed huddled under Secretkeeper’s wing just as she had been since she first saw the large crowd of dragons. Even as they waited, safely removed from that swarm of wings and talons, a pair of Mudwings boisterously cantered their way past the trio of Nightwings and caused Moon to bury herself that much deeper into her mother’s side.

 

“Calm down moonbud, everything will be fine I promise. What happened to the excited little grin you wore when you found out about all the new things you’d get to learn while you’re here?” Secretkeeper reminded Moon in an attempt to shake off her daughter's sudden reluctance. She had been doing so well until just a few moments ago.

 

Moon sent a wobbly smile Secretkeeper’s way in a pitiful parody of how she had first reacted when she’d been told about the new intertribal academy, before giving it up as she succumbed to the worry she was feeling towards the day’s trials. Moon’s gaze lanced from dragon to dragon as her mind supplied a myriad of different horrible ways each of them might choose to hate her the moment she introduced herself. If my own tribe barely tolerates me why would anyone here want anything to do with me.

 

Releasing a puff of smoke from his nostrils at Moon’s pessimism, Shadehunter raised a disbelieving eyebrow before sending her a slew of memories from the past months. Memories of how she’d patiently taught Mightyclaws to adapt to the rainforest or how she’d lend a talon to Secretkeeper whenever her mother had a long day. Moon, you’re about the nicest dragon in Pyrrhia. If anybody here makes the very difficult choice to try and hate you then they’re quite literally worthless.

 

Moon’s ear flickered in acknowledgement before her snout briefly wrinkled in annoyance. At his unwanted commentary on her private self-pitying, Moon roused enough of a downpour to shroud her thoughts. While Moon didn’t look completely absolved of her fear, Shadehunter did spot her talons minutely loosening their death grip on the root below them before she turned to answer Secretkeeper.

 

“It’s still there, somewhere, hidden deep down under all the nerves.” Moon admitted reluctantly as she rolled her shoulders restlessly. “I guess it didn’t hit me until now how different everything will be here. Are you sure you can’t stay?”

 

“And embarrass you in front of all the brand new friends you’re going to make? No Moon, I don’t think so.” Secretkeeper said with a firm shake of her head in response to Moon’s pleading expression even as she tightened the wing around Moon’s shoulders comfortingly. Sure we might not be the most popular tribe at the moment but this will still be better for her than the village. Better for both of my dragonets.

 

Moon turned away to look over the windswept mountain range as she did her best to hide the despondent frown that crept its way onto her face once Secretkeeper confirmed her decision. At Moon’s sullen silence, Secretkeeper switched her focus to Shadehunter. “What about you little shadow, no last minute jitters?”

 

“The only thing I’m worried about is getting turned around in the tunnels down there. Dragons are built to fly, not scurry underground like mice.” Shadehunter asserted with a critical squint at the holes pockmarked throughout Jade Mountain.

 

“I won’t argue with you there,” Secretkeeper agreed with a nod, thoughts dancing along to the rumble of caves that had collapsed when the volcano had blown. “But, the best way to not get lost is to explore. Are the two of you ready to go inside?”

 

Shadehunter shrugged indifferently before tilting his head towards Moon. Although her wings had relaxed a smidgen from when they’d first arrived, Moon was still obviously hesitant as she requested, “Not yet. Can we watch for a little while longer?”

 

“Alright.” Secretkeeper sighed. My shy little diamond. I’m sure I was never that nervous as a dragonet.

 

Shadehunter could all but feel Moon bristle at Secretkeepers thoughts and sent her a silent affirmation to ease some of her mounting frustration. You’re leaving the rainforest for the first time, that’s a perfectly normal thing to be unsure about. Even I’m a little hesitant about living with this many tribes.

 

“Oh look, Seawings!” Secretkeeper exclaimed, blissfully unaware of her interruption as she pointed a claw skyward toward a patchwork of cerulean sails. “Do you see the one with ropes of pearls? I think that’s their queen.”

 

Descending from above, surrounded by a small regiment of guards, came said pearl-laden Seawing with a wickedly sharp narwhal horn strapped to her tail and a tiny emeraldine hatchling tied to one of her talons. The only other dragon that was allowed anywhere near the queen was a pearlescent dragonet, similarly decked out in treasure, whose lineage was clearly displayed in the spiral, starburst patterns on her wings. The dragons on the landing platform below quickly cleared away for the royal entourage, unable and unwilling to challenge the gravitas of a reigning monarch.

 

“Queen Coral.” Moon quoted proudly, perking up as the hours of study she’d slogged through in preparation for today already began to pay off. “Those two must be her daughters, since she never lets them out of her sight.”

 

“A trait that’s suspiciously common in many of the heroic protagonists of those silly little stories she writes.” Shadehunter added with a mocking lilt to his observation.

 

“Don’t be rude, Shadehunter.” Secretkeeper tutted automatically even though Shadehunter could feel how she privately agreed with him. “And thank you for the information Moon but remember that dragons might become suspicious if you appear to know too much.”

 

Moon and Shadehunter briefly shared an exasperated look at another of Secretkeeper’s over-cautious warnings but opted to keep quiet nonetheless. Although Secretkeeper’s paranoia over their powers had gotten better, it never completely faded no matter how much Moon’s control improved. At least she doesn’t call it a curse anymore.

 

Turning back to the gathering of Seawing royalty, Shadehunter couldn’t help but be reminded of an old dossier of Deathbringer’s that Shadehunter had been forced to read on the volcano. Poisoning old King Gill’s honour guard whilst in Skywing territory had definitely been one of the more insidious missions the assassin had been ordered to fulfill. Gill had been a stabilizing pillar for Coral during the war and his disappearance had only served to strengthen Blister’s control over her Seawing allies, and in turn so had the Nightwings’. Shadehunter hadn’t expected that Coral would still keep leashes for her daughters this long after the war but, he supposed, it was always difficult to accurately predict the knock-on effects of such an action.

 

Of all the advantages that came with status and power, Shadehunter definitely didn’t savor the corresponding need to look out for sabotage.

 

“Wow, a real Queen.” Secretkeeper said admiringly, her eyes locked on the jewelery Coral was resplendent in. “I’ve never seen one before.”

 

“You see Queen Glory all the time.” Moon pointed out, as the guard formation encircling Coral broke once Tsunami barreled out of the mountain. In a mirror of her older sister, the pink-white princess let out a jubilant cry and launched herself into Tsunami’s open arms. Once Tsunami relinquished her sister from her crushing grip, the rumbles of a conversation began to travel on the breeze, although the trio of Nightwings were too far away to make out their words.

 

“Queen Glory is barely older than you are,” Secretkeeper dismissed with a wave of her talon. “I mean a real queen, someone who’s ruled over her tribe for years and years.”

 

Moon just huffed at Secretkeeper’s words, seemingly displeased with her mother’s lack of respect for the young Rainwing Queen.

 

“Just because she’s been in charge for a long time doesn’t mean that she’s any good at it.” Shadehunter posited snarkily much to Moon’s satisfaction before he abruptly switched sides just to rile her up. “But you do have to admit, she is a little more imposing than Glory, Moon.”

 

“Isn’t that a bad thing though? Shouldn’t a Queen try to be seen as someone that can be approached by her subjects to actually solve their problems?” Moon rebutted with a betrayed side-eye all while Secretkeeper looked on with fond amusement.

 

“In times of peace? In front of their own dragons? Of course.” Shadehunter acquiesced easily before following up his point. “In front of rival tribes on the other talon? An intimidating leader discourages other dragons from messing with their subjects for fear of having to deal with a dangerous Queen.”

 

Before they could continue their little debate, their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a deafening roar from Tsunami, “THIRTY? I HAVE THIRTY BROTHERS?!”

 

Re-affixing his attention to the congregation of Seawing nobility, Shadehunter did a brief double take when he spotted the source of the commotion he’d previously missed: an innocuous green drake that looked eerily familiar. On closer inspection however, Shadehunter quickly realised that, in spite of their shared colouration and royal markings, the dragon standing off to the side of the bejewelled royals couldn’t be Fathom. The crest of the slightly plump Seawing stood much more firmly upright, his scales were a richer green and his eyes didn’t hold the glint of haunted fear that Fathom’s never seemed to lose. At that point, Shadehunter would have dismissed the prince entirely had he not noticed the soft buzz that sounded out from where he should have been hearing the Seawing’s thoughts.

 

Even when Shadehunter focused all of his attention into an arrowpoint that could break through the strongest of mental shields, he heard nothing but a soft hum from the placid Seawing. Could that bracelet of his be enchanted to block out mind-readers? But why would he bring such an artifact if no one believes our powers still exist?

 

Thoroughly perturbed at this development, Shadehunter was about to ask Moon if she was picking up on the weird interference from the prince until he caught the tail-end of a vision she was silently stumbling out of. Images of the same pudgy, unassuming Seawing with a wildfire of anger in his eyes standing over the bloodied corpse of a lime-green Rainwing leaked from her mind. Moon preempted any questions Shadehunter might have asked with a lost looking shake of her head. I don’t know Shadehunter. I think you saw about as much as I did and his mind is as blank to me as it is to you.

 

Filing away the suspicious prince as someone to keep track of, Shadehunter felt synchronized stings of annoyance ring out from the two older princesses. Evidently Coral had commanded something that pleased neither of them, but one does not say no to one’s Queen, even if she is your mother. So with a dip of Tsunami’s head that could barely be classified as a bow, their group disappeared into the shadowed entryway of the Jade Mountain.

 

As the Seawings left, Secretkeeper laid a talon on each of her dragonets’ shoulders before announcing briskly. “Alright, I think that’s enough spying from the sidelines. It’s time that I took off and that the both of you made your way inside.”

 

A flood of fear rose up inside of Moon at Secretkeeper’s imminent departure. To Shadehunter’s surprise however, Moon pushed back against her trepidation and steeled herself with a firm shake of her head. C’mon Moonwatcher stop being ridiculous. I’ve survived on my own before, I can mostly control my powers now, and other than being a Nightwing none of the students here have any reason to dislike me. You can do this.

 

“Okay… okay. Just don’t forget about us alright.” Moon half-joked, half-pleaded while she tried her best to school her features into a facade of bravery. Secretkeeper didn’t buy it for a second, but the pride that radiated from her at Moon’s willingness to try infused her daughter with a little more courage.

 

Wrapping up her two dragonets in her wings, the mind-readers were buried in a final smothering hug. “I could never. I will miss you both so, so much but with a big opportunity like this one I guess I’ll have to bear it somehow.”

 

“I’m sure between the two of us we might be able to find some time to squirrel away a letter or two.” Shadehunter promised with a wink once they’d been freed from Secretkeeper's embrace.

 

“When you do, I don’t want to hear about any more trap-based infractions.” Secretkeeper commanded sternly with a jovial wrinkle in the corners of her eyes that betrayed her.

 

“That was only one time.” Shadehunter muttered unapologetically. That I got caught anyway.

 

With a final round of goodbyes, Secretkeeper launched herself into the air with a powerful stroke of her wings and soared her way south towards a smattering of clouds. As Secretkeeper winged away, Moon’s eyes stayed longingly fixed on her until she resembled nothing more than a dark speck on the horizon. With a final shudder Moon admirably forced the feeling of abandonment from her mind.

 

“Still nervous?” Shadehunter asked needlessly when he saw the dread crawl its way back onto Moon’s face as she turned back to the multitude of dragons mingling below.

 

“Terrified.” Moon admitted point-blank even as she crouched in preparation to fly towards the academy’s entrance.

 

“If it helps, Starflight totally adores you with how often you’ve listened to him ramble on and on about scrolls. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong he’ll send them packing in a flash.” Shadehunter reassured with a confident thump of his tail before he considered the timid librarian’s demeanor and added somewhat sheepishly. “Or rather he’ll tell Tsunami, and she’ll do it for him.”

 

At the idea of Starflight of all dragons enforcing any measure of discipline, Moon finally let out a little chime of laughter.

 

With a leap, glide, and a few forceful flaps, the two Nightwings finally made their way onto the grassy landing platform. As they moved from the bright atmosphere of the outdoors and into the shaded mountain interior, a cheery voice ambushed them before either of their eyes had a chance to adjust.

 

“Hello! Welcome to the Great Hall of Jade Mountain! Let me guess: you’re Moonwatcher-” A purple eyed Nightwing announced with a claw pointed Moon’s way before whirling onto Shadehunter. “And that must make you Shadehunter! I’m tremendously good at guessing. In fact, one might even say I’m mysteriously good at it.”

 

Given the few seconds of time her introductory guesses had given him to acclimatize to the dark, Shadehunter identified the midnight black Nightwing as Fatespeaker from the few times he’d spotted her alongside Starflight in the rainforest.

 

Uncaring of her conversation partners’ lack of response, Fatespeaker carried on in an exaggeratedly ominous tone. “Almost as though I’m… reading your mind, eh?”

 

At Fatespeaker’s words, Moon froze, paralysed with the possibility that they had both been found out before either of them had even uttered a single word. Even Shadehunter felt a sharp spike of terror as his own eyes latched onto the silver teardrops that would usually be indicative of at least some talent for mind reading. [I saw her for weeks on the volcano, she couldn’t possibly have kept such a secret hidden from me for so long, could she?]

 

From all that he could glean from Fatespeaker’s over-bright thoughts however he couldn’t spot a single hint that betrayed an inclination to their tribe's fabled power, just excitement for the school’s opening and her part to play in it. Shadehunter let out a small breath of relief and blamed Moon’s own frayed nerves for making him so jumpy.

 

“Just kidding!” Fatespeaker exclaimed gleefully once she had drunk in their panicked expressions before her violet eyes sparkled mischievously. “Maaaaybe. I’m Fatespeaker. I’m not a teacher like the others; I’m just helping wherever I can. Here are your welcome scrolls and maps.”

 

With an insistent push, Fatespeaker foisted a pair of papers into his talons and Shadehunter gave them a cursory glance before tucking them away snugly into the empty sheath at his side to examine later. Shadehunter had been a little put out when he first heard about Jade Mountain’s strict ‘no weapons’ policy. While he was still technically armed, given that he could summon his blade with a thought, the thunder crack that announced his dagger’s arrival wasn’t a warning he wanted to give. Most of Deathbringer’s training had relied on stealth after all.

 

“Hey, look, both of you have silver scales by your eyes, just like I do. Yours are both bigger and sparklier, though. I did get your names right, didn’t I?” Fatespeaker rambled on endlessly before finally pausing to breathe at her last question.

 

“You got it in one, Miss Mindreader. Shadehunter and Moon at your service.” Shadehunter answered with a theatrical flourish of his wing while Moon just nodded in agreement.

 

Upon hearing Shadehunter’s confirmation of their names, Fatespeaker unrolled a hefty scroll packed side to side with tiny neatly inked words. Running a claw down the countless number of lists before her, Fatespeaker informed Shadehunter and Moon apologetically, “If you’ll give me just a moment to find them, I’ll have your cave numbers ready for you.”

 

Seizing upon the momentary break in conversation, Shadehunter took the opportunity to look around the so-called ‘Great Hall of Jade Mountain’. The main entrance to the academy had certainly earned its title with the floorspace alone easily stretching far enough to house an entire battalion of dragons. While still technically underground, enough light poured in from the cavern’s opening and the myriad of cracks interspersed throughout the ceiling to light up the freshly quarried turquoise stone walls. Throughout the cave dragons of all tribes ambled about, many of them still exchanging final goodbyes with their families, but some strode with purpose as they carried scrolls and other assorted comforts from home into one of the four exits leading deeper into the mountain.

 

Hung between two of the larger veridian stalactites that speared out of the ceiling was an endearingly gaudy woven banner proudly stating ‘Welcome Students!’ in a pattern of vivid fuschia and frost-white flowers. Engraved on a stone pedestal in the center of the room, well clear of any encroaching stalagmites, was what looked to be a detailed map of the entire network of tunnels. Most eye-catchingly of all however was the monolithic bronze gong that loomed in the back of the cavern emblazoned with a trio of dragons playfully chasing one another mid-flight.

 

I hope that whoever’s in charge of ringing that has something to muffle their ears. Shadehunter idly mused before Fatespeaker’s mumbling drew his gaze back to her.

 

“Moon, moon, moon. Ah there you are, second tunnel on the left, fifth cave to the right.” She flicked her tail and grinned at Moon. “Oh you’re just going to love your clawmates, I know it!”

 

In the face of Fatespeakers wholehearted optimism, Moon couldn’t help but smile a little in agreement. Neither Shadehunter or Moon had been happy knowing that they’d be sharing a cave with other dragons here, but if worse came to worst nothing was stopping either of them from finding another cave nearby to squat in. At the very least, Fatespeaker seemed to believe it wouldn’t be a problem for Moon.

 

“Best of luck, not that you’ll need it.” Shadehunter assured her with a light wing bump before she made to depart. Remember, I’m only ever a few caves away if you need me to claw some sense into someone.

 

Moon just tapped him lightly with her tail as she sent a thought back to him in return. It's a school not a battleground. I might completely embarrass myself and make no friends at all but I doubt anyone’s going to attack me.

 

As Moon slipped away Fatespeaker turned her attention to Shadehunter, her eyes skimming through the many different lists in her scroll as she hummed a little tune. “Hmmm-hmmm-hmm, Shadehunter, hunter of shades, let’s see here… Ah-hah! There you are, Gold Winglet caaaave…”

 

For a moment, Fatespeaker faltered as memories of cruel insults and blistering fire swept through her mind before she was able to lock them safely away behind the cheerful veneer she held onto so tightly. “12! Looks like you’re headed down the first corridor to the right then through the sixth cave on your left, you can’t miss it.”

 

Curiosity piqued by what had prompted the uncharacteristic break in Fatespeaker’s demeanor, instead of leaving immediately Shadehuner decided to prod a little in the hopes of drawing out an answer.

 

“Anything I should be worried about? You told Moon that she’d ‘love her clawmates’ but I just got directions.” Shadehunter lamented exaggeratedly before exchanging his wounded pout for a half-grin to let her know he was mostly kidding.

 

Fatespeaker hesitated for a moment, biting her lip slightly as she debated on what to say or whether to speak at all. Eventually she set her brow determinedly as her thoughts echoed. I know Flame won’t appreciate this, but he needs someone to talk to. Even if he doesn’t think so.

 

“Be patient with the Skywing alright. He’s not the friendliest dragon around but he’s been through a lot.” Fatespeaker requested solemnly before she rallied and regained her previously chipper outlook. “If he gets too grouchy for you though, don’t worry, you’ll also have a Seawing to chat with as well. There was a storm off the south western coast apparently but he should make it before the day is out.”

 

“Skywings? Grumpy? Who would’ve thought.” Shadehunter replied sarcastically before thanking Fatespeaker with a parting nod. “I appreciate the warning though and I’ll try to keep that in mind when I meet him.”

 

Flying up to the balcony on the right side of the gong, Shadehunter made his way out of the Great Hall and into the comparatively small tunnel leading upwards. Wandering down the hallway, Shadehunter was almost reminded of the Nightwing fortress on the volcano. However, where the volcano’s corridors had been cramped and dark, Jade Mountain had wide enough pathways for Shadehunter to stretch out his wings and a plethora of multicoloured globular lamps lighting the way.

 

At first, the twisting corridor only offered entry into empty classrooms but, soon enough, Shadehunter began to feel the rising clamour of noisy thoughts as he neared his destination. Neatly slotting each of the droning minds into a wave of their own, Shadehunter smoothly sluiced his way through the rising dam of dragons in his path until he reached his cave.

 

On first glance, the dorm he’d been assigned to was simple yet practical. After lighting up a few of the lamps that littered the cave, the soft fire-lit glow of the room could almost be considered homey. A trio of ledges lining the walls each housed bedding that seemed to be custom-catered to the dragon it was built for. From a supple, tasseled, mat woven of seagrass to a spartan, smoothly carved, hollow tucked into the upper corner of the wall, Shadehunter dismissed both of them in favour of the soft deer hides laden on the shelf to the right.

 

Running a talon along his chosen resting spot, Shadehunter let out a pleased purr at the velvet texture. Shadehunter hadn’t felt a fur this soft in years, whoever had been in charge of outfitting the interior of this school obviously hadn’t been shy in spending their treasure. Maybe having clawmates won’t be so bad if I at least get to lounge in real luxury.

 

Moving on from his bed, Shadehunter perused the only other piece of furniture adorning the room: a series of scroll racks, one of which was neatly labeled with a note that read, ‘Free Reading’. Skimming through the assorted material on offer, Shadehunter was pleased to see a couple titles relating to magic before snorting with amusement upon spotting the final scroll. It was of little surprise to Shadehunter that when he unrolled ‘A Brief Overview of Desert Ecology and its Oases’ a little note written in Deathbringer’s scrawl sat pinned to the bottom.

 

‘To my favourite, and only, apprentice. I figured a parting reminder of our lessons wouldn’t go awry. For all that I’ve been busy protecting our wondrous, infallible, new Queen, I still remember your little theory concerning the Talon Peninsula. Maybe once you graduate from your fancy new boarding school we can rustle up an expedition to put that hypothesis of yours to the test. Until then, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. ~ Your Wisest Mentor.’

 

In all the chaos that had followed Deathbringer’s short imprisonment, Shadehunter had almost forgotten that he’d told Deathbringer about the location of the old Night Queendom. Shadehunter was relieved to know that at least the assassin wasn’t going to be telling anybody about that particular secret until he returned.

 

Re-mounting the geography scroll and the welcome scroll Fatespeaker had given him, Shadehunter was about to unroll the school map when he was bombarded by a particularly angry wave that crashed into his awareness. Of course I’d end up with a flame-scorched Nightwing of all dragons.

 

Twisting his neck around to see where the bitter sentiment had originated from, Shadehunter was met face-to-face with a red and black Skywing whose face was viciously split in half by a jagged-looking scar. With a snarl seemingly stitched to his face, the Skywing marched up to Shadehunter until he loomed, his neck arched menacingly, above the Nightwing. With lazy indifference to this meaningless posturing, Shadehunter held the Skywing’s stare unblinkingly. Fatespeaker wasn’t kidding about him being grouchy. Here’s hoping the Seawing’s a bit more palatable than this ‘Flame’ appears to be.

 

“Stay out of my way, and keep out of my stuff.” Flame hissed aggressively before launching himself up onto the empty stone. From the safety of his bed and with a wing subconsciously moving to cover the line of broken scales that marred his face, the Skywing glowered. It's bad enough that Mother banished me here but if the shadow of a drake I have to share a cave with lifts a single claw to mess with me, I swear he won’t live to regret it!

 

“Snakes preserve me, I wasn’t planning on it.” Shadehunter muttered under his breath as he brushed his serpentine earring for good luck.

 

Even as Shadehunter turned his attention back to unfurling the map between his talons he kept an idle ear on Flame’s vitriolic thoughts just in case. At first, Shadehunter’s caution seemed needless with the Skywing’s mind only ever circling around how: he hated being here; he hated the stupid Dragonets of Destiny for making this whole school in the first place, and most of all; he hated the awful ugly scar on his face that made everybody else hate him. Just as he was about to tune Flame out completely, however, Shadehunter felt a feather-light presence blindly grope his mind in return. WHO'S THERE?!

 

With barely restrained shock, Shadehunter kept his face carefully bland as he stuffed Flame’s thoughts into a wave even as he felt the Skywing glare at him suspiciously. Eventually, without Shadehunter actively snooping through his head, Flame curled back up towards the wall as whatever sixth sense that had tipped him off no longer detected anything amiss.

With a silent sigh of relief, Shadehunter pondered with mounting interest. First a Seawing prince that can block me out entirely, now a Skywing that seems to be able to detect when I’m hearing his thoughts. Just how much have the tribes changed over the years?

Notes:

I debated with myself whether or not to let Flame say 'fucking Nightwing' instead of 'flame-scorched' but I decided that I'd rather stick to fantasy swear-words to stay tonally consistent. It's still wild to me that Flame can just sense when his mind is being read in canon so I couldn't not include it here.

I tried to make these scenes suitably distinct from their official counter-parts but I don't want to forcibly change a character if there isn't enough of an in-story reason for it. I'm still sorting out how exactly I want to go about writing this so I'll take it as I go I guess.

If you made it down here thanks as always for reading and have a wonderful rest of your day :))

Chapter 12: Exploration

Even though Shadehunter kept his attention fixed solely on the map below him, his Skywing clawmate’s smoldering presence still made his scales itch. While he’d been confident when reading Flame’s mind that the Skywing was angry but not actively dangerous, being forced to rely on mere guesses of what the Skywing could now be thinking left Shadehunter feeling twitchy.

 

With a potentially volatile clawmate in the background, the Nightwing quickly cut his losses on memorizing the school's tunnels from a map. Tucking his guide into the scroll rack by his bed, Shadehunter opted to discover the layout by travelling it on talon instead. He’d always preferred to learn by actually putting a lesson into practice rather than simply pouring over ink-stained parchments anyway. Leave studying to those that had the patience for it.

 

As he slunk his way out of his cave, Shadehunter was pleased to find that the rush of dragons previously crowding the hallway had diminished significantly. Without that cluster of wings blocking his view, Shadehunter was able to spot a large, copper-framed blackboard strung to the wall. Freshly chalked in plain print was an announcement: ‘Welcome Students! Today is dedicated to exploration. Follow your nose to whatever interests you and please feel free to approach the staff with any questions you might have. Tomorrow morning will begin with small-group discussions. Specific classroom assignments will be posted this evening.’

 

Making a point to check the noticeboard later, Shadehunter strode in the opposite direction of the Great Hall and deeper into the mountain.

 

With a slight drop in his mental walls, Shadehunter indulged in his curiosity as he walked and eavesdropped on his neighbours now that their incessant thoughts wouldn’t risk giving him a headache. Unsurprisingly, Shadehunter wasn’t the only dragon feeling put out at having to share a cave. From ‘brine-y smelling Seawings’ to ‘dirt tracking Mudwings’, there was something for everyone to complain about. But, in spite of these minor inconveniences, it seemed the underlying excitement of attending a project put together by the famous ‘Dragonets of Destiny’ was enough to keep things, mostly, civil. One by one, the ambient mental chatter began to fade into an inaudible murmur as Shadehunter’s path brought him further away from the dormitories.

 

Instead of following any of the numerous arrows carved into the walls that directed dragons to exciting rooms designed to entice, such as the ‘Music Wing’ or ‘Art Chamber’, Shadehunter elected to discover what lay hidden beyond such obvious signposting. As he descended, Shadehunter began to pick up on the scent of moisture filling the air. In tandem with the rising humidity, a multitude of mosses and creeping tangles of vines burst their way out of the cracks fracturing the walls. Eventually, Shadehunter’s ears picked up on the subtlest of trickles that, upon following it to its source, lead the mind reader to a rushing waterfall. From the towering overlook that his idle wanderings had led him to, a large cavern yawned before Shadehunter with the waterfall he’d tracked feeding into a massive underground lake. Dappled sunlight burrowed through the stone ceiling and highlighted the array of ripples that lined the water a brilliant azure. Algae-coated pebbles bordered the shore in soft greens and reds as gentle waves lapped at the stone bordering the lake.

 

Dropping off the cliffside, Shadehunter spread his wings in a gentle glide above the lake's surface and scouted several shadowed schools of fish fleeing in his wake. Although his stomach growled in a humble request that he fill it, Shadehunter delayed slacking his hunger in favour of eventually making his way to the ‘Prey Centre’ he had seen clearly marked out earlier.

 

I’d rather not get lost navigating my way back through the tunnels. If this cave is close enough to the surface for natural light to make its way in here, then there must be a quick way to get outside. Shadehunter theorised as he scanned the ceiling and walls for any obvious exits. After a fruitless loop of the cave only yielded paths heading back into the mountain, Shadehunter decided to take a risk.

 

Rapidly pounding his wings to gain a burst of speed, Shadehunter clenched his eyes shut and plunged himself into the mouth of the waterfall. Grinding his teeth as the frigid water needled at his scales, Shadehunter violently thrashed his tail and pushed stubbornly against the current that sought to ferry him back underground. Even with his wings and limbs tightly tucked; no matter how streamlined Shadehunter made himself, the flow of the river slowed his movement to a crawl all the same. Just as the growing ache in his lungs was about to force him to retreat, Shadehunter shot out of the water with a gasp alongside a rainbow-lined mist. With a mighty flick of his wings that sent Shadehunter twirling, the few remaining rivulets of water that clung to his scales were slicked away. Defying gravity in an upward spiral, by the time Shadehunter deigned to turn around the powerful rapids he’d fought through had shrunk to a tiny blue ribbon. A quick look at the surrounding mountaintops oriented Shadehunter with what scraps of the map he’d managed to commit to memory.

 

If that’s Half-Tail peak then I should be on the northern side of Jade Mountain. Shadehunter deduced with a self-satisfied bob. It had been a bit of a reckless move to so thoughtlessly swim upriver with no promise of an exit, but the exhilaration of successfully discovering a hidden bolt-hole of his own made it hard to care. Although he might no longer be the unstoppable Darkstalker, who would fly through hurricanes and lightning storms with reckless abandon, a little danger every now and then still held an undeniable appeal. Turning east, Shadehunter briefly thought about making a pilgrimage to Mt. Agate but quickly discarded that idea. There was no need to foul the joy of exploration on such a beautiful, clear-blue day by dredging up dreary long-dead memories.

 

Instead, Shadehunter brought himself out of his stationary hover and threw himself into the updrafts flowing along the mountainside. As Shadehunter rode the wind, he checked each of the larger shadowed entryways he could spot against his limited understanding of the academy’s layout. During his flight, however, a flash of vermillion caught Shadehunter’s attention from the corner of his eye. Turning his view from the surface to the sky, the Nightwing observed a couple of skywings dexterously flitting through the air around one another, seemingly engaged in some game of chase or dance. The pair seemed to move in perfect synchronicity until an inscrutable signal passed between the two of them that caused their roles to flip and they began anew in reverse. Their joyous laughter filled the air in sharp contrast to how the ill-tempered tribe was usually perceived.

 

Maybe the only reason Flame was so miserable is because he was stuck underground when his tribe was built to soar through the air. Shadehunter considered. He doubted it, but the Nightwing had to admit that it would be nice if the cure to his hostile clawmate’s mood proved to be so simple.

 

Once he had his fill of watching the masterful maneuvers of the copper-coloured dragons and was satisfied with his amature attempt at cartography, Shadehunter directed himself to an entrance he hoped would lead him to the Prey Centre. Clinging as close to the ground as he dared, Shadehunter felt the strain of the wind tug at his shoulders as he flared his wings wide and braced his forelegs to land. With a light thud and a trot the Nightwing made his way under the shaded eave.

 

Gently pushing aside a waxy leaf curtain, Shadehunter ducked through a window and into an empty classroom. A sharp medicinal sting in the air caused Shadehunter’s snout to scrunch in irritation until he loosed a small sneeze.

 

“Moons bless you.” giggled a bright sounding voice. 

 

Standing before a shelf filled to the brim with assorted leaves and poultices was a hybrid whose mind radiated a pleasant warmth that matched her golden scales. Although she lacked the tail-barb that was so typical of the Sandwing tribe, it was easy to understand why Sunny had still been mistaken for one with how little she resembled a Nightwing. If Shadehunter hadn’t idly listened along to Moon as she read through the, ‘Prophecy Adventure Scrolls’ he likely would have been fooled as well. Noticing his intrigued stare, Sunny gestured to the clipboard held in her talons. “Don’t mind me, I’m just tallying up our supplies for Herb’s and Healing at the moment.”

 

“Ah, apologies for the intrusion. I’m just wandering around, ‘following my nose’ like the blackboards said.” Shadehunter explained before shrugging sheepishly. “Not that my nose seems to agree with my choices.”

 

“It is rather pungent isn’t it.” Sunny concurred with a nod even as she appended, “But bad smells are a small price to pay to stay healthy. If you’re lost or you need anything, just give me a holler.”

 

Shadehunter simply hummed in agreement, his attention caught by a series of detailed diagrams stuck to the walls. There were seven in total, each displaying the different bone structure and organs that Pyrrhia’s tribes possessed. From the thick-set skeletal structure of the Mudwings to the comparatively delicate yet flexible bones of the Rainwings, its accuracy was truly commendable with how varied each tribe’s physiology was. Especially with how little time the school had been given to gather the resources it needed before it opened.

 

To the side of every illustration were scrawling lines of text explaining the most important processes required to keep a dragon alive, along with lines pointing to the section of the body associated with each paragraph. Although none of the posters delved into the finer intricacies of biology, they were clear-cut and to the point. Perhaps unsurprisingly, given how fresh the war was, they were each perfect for teaching the basics of first-aid.

 

“I see you’ve found Clay’s ‘mega-flashcards’. Have you ever thought about becoming a healer yourself before?” Sunny called out when she looked away from the army of jars she was sorting through and saw where Shadehunter was lingering. Moons know that Pyrrhia could use more doctors than soldiers.

 

“Khm, no not really.” Shadehunter denied with a light cough. “The volcano wasn’t really the best environment for encouraging such interests.”

 

The only medicinal plants they’d had on the island were whatever could be scrounged during the tribe's intermittent scavenging of the rainforest and the sad dregs harvested from what had remained of their dying forest. For the most part, injuries were simply washed out with salt-water and bound with stitches or bandages. While the Nightwings had a decent understanding of how the body functioned, with their limited access to resources most of their medical knowledge had remained theoretical rather than practical.

 

Wincing a little at Shadehunter’s reminder, Sunny pushed on valiantly with an optimistic proposal. “You never know, Clay’s class might spark your interest and end up being your favourite. Jade Mountain is all about new beginnings after all.”

 

‘New beginnings’ huh? Did Fathom truly convince you I was so far gone that forcing such a decision onto me was your only option Clearsight? Shadehunter’s mind whispered morosely before he could stop it.

 

“Who knows indeed.” Shadehunter stated non-committedly before a pang of hunger reminded him of where he had been heading before getting side-tracked. “You were right about me getting turned around though. I’m not too far from the Prey Centre, am I?”

 

Sunny just lightly shook her head in amusement at Shadehunter’s admission before raising a talon to point south. “Down the hall to the left. Just stick to the outer wall of the mountain and you’ll get there eventually.”

 

Dipping his head shallowly in thanks, Shadehunter left Sunny to her work.

 

Exiting the classroom, Shadehunter angled himself toward where the Prey Center supposedly resided and marched on. He soon realised that while it was nice of Sunny to give him directions she needn’t have bothered with how loud the Nightwing’s destination was proving to be. Even without the excited mental chatter of dragons on the hunt, the echoing cry of dying prey was more than adequate to serve as a guide. Following the gleeful thoughts of prowling dragons quickly led Shadehunter into a sprawling cave. The wall bordering on the mountain’s perimeter would have been practically non-existent were it not for a low-lying barrier that prevented the captured animals from running outside. Littered all throughout the flat, level floor were terrified masses of fleeing prey interspersed with the picked-over remains of those that hadn’t been quick enough to escape.

 

However, in contrast to the dizzying chaos of interweaving dragonets that Shadehunter had expected, it seemed that something had united the disparate mass of thoughts into a swarm near the sky-bound opening. Where once all he’d been hearing was racing stratagems on where to bite a cow to kill it quickly and how best to corner a chicken, now all Shadehunter picked up from the minds before him concerned whatever laid in the middle of the crowd. I wonder if he’s really going to slice her face off? - There’s no way that the Icewing’s gonna win, he’s like half her size. - If they start fighting, I wonder if I can eat the scavenger while they’re distracted.

 

The buzzing squabble of thoughts was so loud that Shadehunter couldn’t determine anything about the source of the whole hubbub other than a feeling of sharp, cold, anger intertwined with soft, acute fear. Eying a sturdy-looking stalactite to hang from, Shadehunter launched himself up to get a better view of what was going on. Once he was securely wrapped around the pillar of stone and looked down upon the scene below him, Shadehunter felt his stomach drop.

 

For sat in the centre of that cluster of dragons was none other than Moon herself. Across from her, and only drawing closer, was an Icewing; his silver mane of spiked icicles rattling with the promise of violence and aggression rolling off of him in waves. In spite of Moon’s larger, more imposing build, Shadehunter knew from experience that she was more likely to sit as still as a statue than raise a talon to protect herself.

 

“I could freeze you one part at a time - first your horns, then snap them off. Then your tail - freeze it and snap it off. Then your claws, and your wings… should I go on?” The Icewing spat, his threat somewhat stilted and awkward but still frighteningly sincere. With every word he spoke, clouds of icy mist billowed from his maw with growing intensity and enveloped the floor in a thin fog.

 

A drumbeat of fear deafened Shadehunter to the world and chanted that Moon was about to be maimed because yet another generation of Icewings couldn’t help but bloody their claws on innocent Nightwings. Shadehunter’s vision went red. Channeling his fear into anger, Shadehunter barely restrained himself from pulling his blade from the aether and instead settled for launching a fireball just shy of the insipid Icewing’s claws.

 

When that molten flash of fire erupted before their talons, those in the heart of the mob recoiled instinctively and turned towards the one who’d launched such an attack. Seizing the gap his flames had forcibly created, Shadehunter descended from the ceiling in a furious dive and interposed himself like a curtain of living shadow in front of Moon.

 

“Three Moons as my witness, if you lay one claw on my sister it’ll be the last thing you do, Icewing.” Shadehunter swore venomously as he glared up into dark blue eyes that reflected his own pale platinum.

 

When the frost-coloured dragon sized up the new opponent that had manifested itself before him, Shadehunter caught a fierce shiver of envy skate across his mind. Tch, of course she was lucky enough for her brother to survive while mine had to be murdered by their tribe of deceitful skyrats.

 

The near silent gasp from Moon behind him told him that she overheard that tragic tidbit as well, but all Shadehunter could afford to focus on was taking out the threat in front of him. Sympathy didn’t matter when Shadehunter knew all too well how dangerous Icewings could be, especially one who had clearly already decided that Moon of all dragons deserved his ire.

 

Okay, so some Nightwing killed this idiot’s brother. Maybe I can use that to goad him into a sloppy lunge? From there I can’t be held accountable for defending myself. Shadehunter planned as he shifted his stance to better counter an oncoming blow. He might have less reach than the Icewing but if his enemy over-extends then there should be an opportunity to evade and seize his throat.

 

“Your sister is the one refusing to return Bandit to me.” The Icewing growled defensively, a derisive sneer crossing his expression. “I’ve already been more than patient enough with you Nightwings, now get out of my way or I’ll-”

 

Before either Shadehunter or the Icewing could do anything more however, a pair of dusty yellow arms boldly made their way between the two tightly coiled dragons and shoved both of them apart. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Both of you calm down. No one is attacking anybody here, alright. Let’s just talk things through like the civilized dragons our Queens think we are.”

 

With a debonair grin that stretched the uneven scar gracing his snout, a rogue Sandwing corralled both Shadehunter and the Icewing under his wings as though they were all old friends. The Icewing instantly recoiled at this over-familiar display and batted him away with a hiss while Shadehunter simply slipped underneath the constraining canvas to continue shielding Moon.

 

Perplexed by the audacity of the Sandwing who had appeared between them as though it was the most natural thing in the world, Shadehunter spared a sliver of attention to dip into his thoughts.

 

Feints within feints unfolded from the freckled dragon’s mind. Even as he theorised on how to de-escalate the tension between Shadehunter, Moon and the Icewing peacefully, backup plans sifted through his head like sand in an hourglass. His opening gambit to physically separate the two of them under his wings hadn’t lasted long, but he hadn’t really expected it to. Merely refocusing their attention was already a win because the moment they split their focus on him, they had less anger to use on one another. From there, he hoped it would be easy enough to convince the Nightwings to return the Icewing’s scavenger. But even if that failed, now that he was here, he was almost certain he could delay any real conflict until one of the staff returned. The speed and breadth that the Sandwing’s mind moved with was dizzyingly impressive and in the moment Shadehunter had taken to listen in, the Sandwing was already opening his mouth to continue controlling the conversation.

 

With an ease and confidence to his expression that only by inhabiting his mind did Shadehunter know to be faked, the Sandwing introduced himself. “The name’s Qibli and, if my dearest clawmate has somehow restrained himself,” Here, lightning quick, Qibli shot the Nightwings a subtle commiserating roll of his eyes as he continued on, “this is Prince Winter, Queen Glacier’s nephew. Any chance you’ll do me the favour of sharing your own names?”

 

Of course. All these years later and I’m still haunted by Diamond’s awful family. Shadehunter thought as he glowered at the silver-sapphire circlet he’d somehow missed during the whole commotion nestled neatly on Winter’s brow.

 

As Shadehunter was contemplating on whether or not he wanted to give an Icewing prince his name, Moon placed a reassuring talon on his shoulder before gently pushing her way past him. Hold on Shadehunter, this is my fault. I just mis-read the situation.

 

Shadehunter’s forelegs burned with tension as he fought to stop himself from pulling Moon back and away from an Icewing that might still lash out at her. The only reason Shadehunter was able to control himself was because of the swift undercurrent of worry he felt leaking from the Icewing’s mind in the direction of Moon’s talons. As Shadehunter watched Moon carefully move into Winter’s reach, he lamented silently. [It’s nice to see Moon taking the initiative for once, but why, of all times, why did it have to be with an Icewing Prince.] 

 

Even under the onslaught that being the focus of attention for a whole cave full of dragons brought, Moon released a crumpled, juice-stained, scavenger with overbearing gentleness from her talons into Winter’s. “I’m Moonwatcher but, please, just Moon is fine. Sorry about taking your scavenger, I didn’t know he was your pet and I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him get eaten.”

 

Wrapping his claws protectively around the trembling, terrified rodent, Winter brought the little scavenger up to his face to inspect it for any damage. Shadehunter quickly realised that this was the source of the quiet terror he had initially heard, with Moon’s thoughts still being tightly locked away while in the centre of such a maelstrom of noisy minds. Upon seeing his pet unharmed, an expression of pleased surprise briefly broke through the icy wall of disdain on Winter’s face before an avalanche of chilled resentment reasserted itself. What would Hailstorm think if he could see me now? Just because she kept Bandit safe doesn’t mean anything. She’s a Nightwing and that makes her the enemy.

 

“Look at that igloo face, the moment you stopped scaring her scales off you got your pet back. Maybe you should just try asking nicely next time. As you can see, it works wonders for me.” Qibli ribbed reflexively, instinctively glancing Shadehunter’s way to see if his jab toward Winter had relaxed the Nightwing drake at all. Shadehunter was still too busy stuck staring daggers at Winter over Moon’s shoulder in warning to give Qibli any kind of favourable reaction but he appreciated the effort.

 

“Don’t you dare try and lecture me sandsnorter! None of this would have happened at all if you hadn’t so carelessly let him escape in the first place.” Winter retorted imperiously before prowling through the crowd of onlookers towards a fast flowing river dividing the room and mercilessly dunking his scavenger.

 

Shifting his attention back to Moon and Shadehunter, Qibli toned down his smarmy act and questioned more sincerely. “So we’re all good now, yeah? Scavenger returned, sister unharmed. Hooray?”

 

With Winter safely distanced, busy cleaning his scavenger of what smelt like leftover mango juice, Shadehunter finally felt the muscles in his back relax a little. “I suppose. You have my condolences for having to share a cave with a dragon like that.”

 

“You’re not so friendly yourself Mr Small, Dark, and Menacing.” Qibli remarked pointedly before quickly twisting his critique into something lighter. “After all, I still haven’t had the pleasure of learning your name.”

 

But, even as Qibli joked he subconsciously analysed Shadehunter for anything that might give away how the Nightwing preferred to fight. He doesn’t look as strong as Moon, but of the two he was the one moments away from tearing into Winter. Queen Thorn said to always be careful around Nightwings after all.

 

While Qibli wasn’t overly fond of what he’d seen of the Icewing clawmate he’d been assigned to so far, it seemed that he didn’t have a soft spot for Nightwings either. At the end of the day though, cautious suspicion was still leagues better than what Winter had offered and it wasn’t like Shadehunter instantly trusted Qibli either. Behind that friendly smile was a keen intelligence and low lying paranoia that could prove to be acutely dangerous… but only if Shadehunter gave him a reason to be.

 

Banishing all traces of unease from his face, the mind reader donned the most affable expression he could muster. “Shadehunter, the pleasure is all mine.”

Notes:

There were drafts of this chapter where Shadehunter reacted to Winter threatening Moon either completely diplomatically (albeit privately plotting vengeance) or with a dagger poised to his throat. I ended up with this compromise instead. For all that Darkstalker is characterized as a smooth talker in the books he still has his moments of unfiltered violence so I wanted to be sure not to defang him completely here. Especially with his current limitations depriving him of options and the fact that Winter is one of his beloathed Icewings.

Managed to get this done before a month but only barely. Hopefully I can up the pace but the muses are ever fickle. As always, if you made it all the way down here thanks for reading and have a good rest of your day :))

Chapter 13: Warning

Notes:

Brief little shout out to BitWoof, for pointing out all the little grammar errors that slip through the gaps after I post, hopefully there aren't too many this time lol.

Before either Qibli or Shadehunter could continue their conversation however, a deep bassy voice echoed out through the cavern and made its way to Shadehunter’s ears. “Alright everyone, clear out! This is the Prey Center not the Great Hall. Big crowds like these will get in the way of those trying to hunt.”

 

Heavy thunking talonsteps warned of Clay’s approach even before Shadehunter spotted his hulking, chestnut-scaled form gently shooing away their unwanted audience. While there were more than a few unhappy murmurs at the lack of a fight, both vocal and mental, the onlooking crowd quickly dispersed under Clay's orders. The Mudwing’s frown had a long way to go before it could be considered intimidating, but his sheer size added more than enough authority to ensure his instructions were followed.

 

Slipping out from where she’d been trailing behind Clay, Sunny made her second appearance of the day. Looking over the small group that remained, the hybrid Sandwing arched her brow when she saw that Qibli was among them.

 

“Not causing any trouble on your first day are you, Qibli?” Sunny inquired, not unkindly but certainly not without a large measure of suspicion either.

 

Qibli loosed an exaggerated gasp and raised a talon to his chest in mock offense, “Here I am putting in my best efforts to preserve the peace and yet you accuse me first. Your most loyal Outclaw, me! For shame, Sunny!”

 

I can think of at least five incidents that might rightfully cause me to suspect you of causing a commotion like this. Sunny reasoned internally but merely bumped him with her wing instead to end his dramatics and send him toppling back to all fours.

 

“He really was a big help in keeping everyone’s heads cool, Miss Sunny.” Moon interjected meekly, doing her best to meet the teacher’s eyes.

 

Qibli immediately latched onto Moon's statement and puffed his chest out self-righteously as he continued to tout his defense, “See, I even have a witness. I acted like a proper gentle-drake and literally everyone agrees that I totally saved the day.”

 

Sunny’s expression still maintained a level of cautious disbelief but its edges softened with what looked like long-enduring familiarity as she muttered near silently, “How mother wrangled you for so long I’ll never know.”

 

Three members of royalty already and now even QIbli seems to have a link to someone important. Something tells me Jade Mountain Academy isn’t just the simple school it purported itself to be. Shadehunter puzzled away as he continued to sit silently on the sidelines, content to let Qibli take the spotlight and shift the focus away from his earlier aggression.

 

“Pah!” Winter scoffed, unable to stop himself after hearing Qibli’s exaggerated claim. Upon seeing that he’d made himself the center of attention, Winter gave his scavenger a little shake to dry it off before drawling on, unimpressed, “The only thing you did was clean up the consequences of a mess you made.”

 

“I don’t know Winter, the smaller the dragon the wilier the fighter.” Qibli sent a pointed nod in Sunny's direction to exemplify his point before finishing. “I’m pretty sure I also saved your stiff Icewing scales from a mortifying defeat at the talons of our new friend Shadehunter over here.”

 

While Shadehunter knew that this compliment toward him was, for the most part, just another ploy of Qibli’s to annoy Winter into dropping his guard, the Nightwing still bared all of his teeth in a menacing, shark-like grin. Moon, none too gently, thwacked him with her tail as her brows furrowed in his direction. Don’t antagonise him! I was the one who stole his scavenger, remember.

 

You were the one who saved his scavenger. Shadehunter corrected even as he tucked his fangs safely away behind scaly lips. He was the one who was about to attack you over something as insignificant as stolen prey.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Winter said dismissively, barely even deigning to give a disbelieving huff in reaction to Qibli’s jab before tilting his snout up in a perfect rendition of upper-class disdain. “I was trained by the finest warriors in the Ice Queendom. If you want to have a duel so I can prove to you just how unnecessary your ‘help’ really was, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

 

Memories of being ground into a cold ice floor time and time again flowed through Winter’s mind like a stiff breeze. The stern voice of an older Icewing rang out in frozen disappointment, 'Get up Winter. With form this sloppy, you don’t stand a chance of making it past the 3rd circle. You will try again and you will not stop until you get it right.' and unfalteringly did a younger Winter obey. Arrogant the Icewing might be, but a liar Winter was not and Shadehunter made note to be extra careful the next time he might have reason to cross talons with a royal like him.

 

Maybe a more personal approach is in order to crack this frozen prince’s shell. Qibli wondered, blissfully unaware of the jagged edges to Winter’s thoughts, as he strutted forward, mischief lighting his eyes, until he was just shy of Winter’s personal space. Winter craned his neck back and forth to try and keep track of the Sandwing as Qibli circled him, seemingly just to keep him off-balance .

 

“If you just wanted an excuse to get up close and personal with me, Winter, you only had to ask.” Qibli purred, his eyes shamelessly running all over Winter’s shimmery scales before he dropped his voice down to a whisper. “We already have a private cave all to ourselves after all.”

 

Winter’s mind stalled momentarily until a deep blue flush made its way onto his face once he processed the implication of Qibli’s words. The tiniest ember of pleased surprise at drawing such brazen approval for his looks tried to make itself known before it was swiftly snuffed out under a snowmelt of disgusted self-loathing that he could find such attention desirable. With an indignant sputter, the Icewing forcefully shoved Qibli away as he spat out a vehement denial, “Stop with this inane chatter. Are all Sandwings so tactless in their propositions or is that a flaw reserved for you alone?!”

 

Qibli just cackled in the face of Winter’s offended rejection even as he scrambled to stay on his talons in the aftermath of Winter pushing him aside. “You should totally see your face right now, hah! Don’t get your prissy little claws in a twist though, I was just messing with you. Lowly Sandwing criminals like me have much higher standards than a stuffy royal like you could ever hope to meet.”

 

Ignoring the jabbering Sandwing in a remarkable display of self-control for the amount of annoyance Shadehunter could feel boiling from his mind, Winter turned his gaze to Sunny. The hybrid coughed as she quickly traded her light amusement for a mask of polite neutrality, feeling only the tiniest bit guilty for not intervening.

 

“As you can see my clawmate is utterly insufferable and wholly unfit to be sharing a cave with a noble of my status.” Winter decreed primly but upon seeing that Sunny wasn’t immediately offering any form of placation for his plight a hint of desperation infected his tone. “Surely there must be a private cave available. Or, at the very least, one I can swap to with an Icewing instead. Right?”

 

Sun-scorched salamanders, here we go again. Sunny despaired with knowing resignation but steadfastly put forward her best expression of well meaning sympathy. “I’m sorry, but the caves we’ve already assigned are all we have to spare at the moment. Besides, living with a dragon from another tribe is an integral part of our goal for fostering inter-tribal relations.”

 

“Sunny, can you lend a talon over here, I think we’ve got a sprained ankle?” Clay hollered from across the hall.

 

Before she left, Sunny paused and gave Winter her most optimistic smile as she tried  to mitigate Winter’s deepening frown with one last parting reassurance. “Just give it a few weeks. You might feel like clawing each other right now but I’m sure you’ll be as thick as thieves by then.”

 

I doubt it. Winter thought grimly in response to Sunny’s words, his eyes narrowing on her retreating form as he reluctantly accepted that he really will be stuck sharing a cave with Qibli. As though feeding off of the prince’s disappointment, Qibli flicked his sail dramatically as he gloated, “Face it Winter, destiny has spoken. We’re to be the best of friends, irregardless of how either of us feel about it.”

 

Winter’s claws scraped against the stone floor as he clenched his back talons but just before another argument could truly get underway Moon interrupted, “Is your scavenger okay?”

 

Instantly, Winter’s focus was derailed from his bickering as he honed onto his pet in search of whatever malady he might have missed that was causing Moon’s concern. Upon seeing that it looked just as limp and bedraggled as it had before, he instantly speared Moon with an interrogative look. “What are you talking about? Bandit is fine.”

 

Please don’t engage with the ornery Icewing anymore than you already have, Moon. Hasn't he already proven that he’s dangerous? Shadehunter pleaded earnestly.

 

Winter might be kind of scary but can’t you feel how miserable his scavenger is? Bandit needs our help, even if it means negotiating with a grumpy dragon. Moon rebuked as her eyes filled with sympathy looking at the rather pathetic little animal trapped within its cage of ice-cold blades.

 

While Shadehunter could feel the despondency emanating from the little scavenger just as well as Moon could, he really didn’t see why it was worth the hassle of intervening. ‘Bandit’ wasn’t even a dragon, it was the very epitome of insignificance. Doubly so if Moon risked provoking an Icewing in her attempt to help. But, he supposed that Moon’s endless wellspring of empathy was part of what made her so much better than other dragons, even if it did lead her to pursuing the strangest of moral crusades.

 

“I-its just that, he looks kind of… hungry?” Moon hedged, the boldness propping up her initial inquiry quickly buckling under her inability to explain how she knew something was wrong.

 

“Well, he isn’t.” Winter snapped defensively, his claws tightening instinctively around his pet on the off chance another dragon might try to snatch it from him. “He drinks water every day and I’ve ensured that he always has something to eat if he gets hungry.”

 

But in spite of his implacable front, a flash of worry escaped the maze of reflecting mirrors that Winter’s contradictory feelings were made of. Bandit was probably an exceptional hunter before Queen Glacier caught him, he’s just recovering from a feast is all. Even if the scrolls say that most scavengers need to eat once a day, that doesn’t mean that mine does. 

 

“I don’t know, Winter.” Qibli chimed in as he leaned forward to take a closer look at Bandit’s shivering, pallid form. “He looks a little… wilted. Maybe he hates you and is just trying to starve himself to death.”

 

“He’s not, scavengers don’t do that!” Winter hissed back petulantly, his spines flared in refusal to listen to anything Qibli had to say after suffering through his endless needling.

 

Between Winter’s stubborn pride and Qibli’s constant need to get under his scales, Shadehunter could already see how long the conversation would devolve. But Shadehunter knew that Moon wouldn’t leave until the scavenger had been taken care of, and after triple checking Winter’s mind to ensure he wouldn't pose a threat to Moon, he wordlessly excused himself as he spied for something that would suit his purposes. Sighting his target, Shadehunter crept forward noiselessly along the darker walls of the cave until he was within range. Like a long compressed spring, Shadehunter uncoiled in a leap with a speed that his prey clearly didn’t expect before crushing the plump chicken under his claws. Tearing off a wing to set aside for later, Shadehunter quickly devoured the rest of his meal in short order, only stopping to pick out the odd feather or two that got stuck between his teeth.

 

Picking up the remaining leftovers of his meal, Shadehunter carefully exhaled a small stream of fire as he rotated the wing to ensure each side of it was seared properly. Seeing that the meat was cooked to the same golden brown he could remember being fed to the scavengers in the past, Shadehunter quickly returned to where Moon’s little group was still gathered.

 

Paying no mind to whatever squabble he was interrupting, Shadehunter ploughed his way through until he was standing before the Icewing prince yet again. Holding the cooked meat before the little rodent, Shadehunter waved it unceremoniously in the hopes that this display would entice the scavenger. ‘Bandit’ looked at the offering for a few moments, almost in disbelief, before seizing it eagerly and shoveling in mouthfuls of the bird as fast as his tiny little maw would allow.

 

Suspicion etched Winter’s face at the uncharacteristic gesture from a Nightwing who had been ready and willing to bite him not minutes before. Believe me Icewing, I don’t want to be doing this anymore than you do.

 

“If you want your pet to last more than a week, cooked meat, fruit or vegetables is what you’ll want to feed him. While it isn’t necessary you should probably get him another scavenger to socialise with, they’re pack animals and tend to live longer if they have some sort of companionship.” Shadehunter listed succinctly, eager to be done with this conversation that had already dragged on for too long. The relief he could feel echoing from Moon almost cleansed the bitter taste lingering on his tongue from doing an Icewing any sort of favour.

 

“And how, exactly, do you know all this?” Winter asked incredulously, disbelief warring with the very real evidence in his claws stating otherwise. Weren’t the Nightwings too busy dying on their volcano to bother with pets?

 

Unable to say that scavengers had been a subject of study at his old school, Shadehunter simply opted to perform the role this sheltered prince already expected him to play.

 

“I’m a Nightwing frost-face, we’re the smartest tribe in Pyrrhia. Scavenger habitation is hardly the most impressive secret we know.” Shadehunter boasted with a condescending scoff. Like clockwork, upon hearing Shadehunter quote the pompous rhetoric that was characteristic of an, ‘evil Nightwing’ Winter instantly dropped any desire to pry an answer out of Shadehunter. If Shadehunter was the enemy, and the enemy always lied, then every question he answered obviously couldn’t be trusted, so why bother even asking them in the first place?

 

Qibli, of course, wasn’t so quick to dismiss him. If we translate that out from ‘smug-night-dragon’ speak: he either doesn’t actually know or he simply doesn’t want to tell us. But whether or not it's anything more than classic arrogant Nightwing pride, that was still a deflection and not an answer. The only question is why? With the way he was glaring at Winter earlier I would’ve thought he’d jump at the opportunity to brag.

 

Shadehunter suppressed the crawling shiver from his scales at having his intentions read so easily. What’s worse was that Qibli had somehow managed to glean all that from his words and body language alone, not his thoughts. Mindreader’s he could block reliably if he knew it was important, but against Qibli’s method of investigation there was only so much Shadehunter could do to obfuscate.

 

“Let’s get out of here, Moon. I spotted a herd of llamas outside and I’ve heard that they’re way tastier than anything they have in here.” Shadehunter lied, already moving toward the streaming sunlight as he shunted a feeling of urgency Moon’s way. We saved the scavenger, now can we please leave the Icewing alone already.

 

Moon looked a touch bemused by Shadehunter’s insistence but acquiesced to his demands all the same as she rose to her talons to follow him. Looking over her shoulder with her wings raised and hind crouched to take off, Moon offered a brief farewell. “It was nice meeting you two, good luck with the scavenger.”

 

“I hope I’ll see you around. And I’m sure my cool clawmate does too, right buddy… buddy?” Qibli piped up in response but judging by the Sandwing’s ensuing calls Winter had been just as eager to depart as Shadehunter was.

 

With the wind cushioning the underside of their wings, the two Nightwings soared through the air, their eyes peeled for a herd of llamas that might or might not exist. In the open air, no longer surrounded by crowds of chattering dragons, even Shadehunter felt a slight tension in his forehead release now that he didn’t have to focus on keeping their thoughts at bay. The relief that Moon felt, however, was tenfold. The further they flew from the mountain the more she relaxed until the tightly hunched dragonet from the Prey Center was completely eclipsed by a relaxed hunter, confident in her trade.

 

Coasting easily alongside him, Moon kept a keen watch on every crack and crevasse that passed below them even as she wondered idly, “Why didn’t you just tell them that the Nightwings conducted a scavenger study?”

 

Shadehunter’s wingbeats faltered for a fraction of a second before he quickly got them back under control.

 

“Because we didn’t, Moon. It was just a daydream. I’d read a scroll about scavengers the night before one of Sharptalon’s classes and my subconscious obviously thought that’d be far more interesting than studying ‘Nightwing Supremacy Scroll 57'" Shadehunter explained offhandedly, placing extra emphasis on the bland rubric Moon had been lucky enough to miss. [Technically I had been dreaming about how much better the old Nightwing classes were, but that’s just semantics.]

 

“Huh, must’ve been some dream if you remembered it for this long…” but whatever else Moon had to say on the matter was forgotten in her excitement at spotting a pair of distracted llamas, ripe for the taking. Moon shot a glance his way but Shadehunter was already nodding in their direction to let her know he’d seen them too.

 

Splitting off in opposite directions, Shadehunter and Moon angled their wings to push them in matching arcs until they were both lined up above their targets. With the whistle of the wind the only warning of their approach, the two Nightwings descended in synchronised lethal dives. In moments it was over and the pair of dragons tore into their meals, the meat all the sweeter for how far they’d flown just to get to Jade Mountain in the first place.

 

“Well anyway, dream or not, thanks for helping me out with Bandit. Even if you kind of hate his owner.” Moon remarked as cleaned the blood off her claws on the surrounding vegetation.

 

“Well, I couldn’t just leave him to die now could I? If I did, I'd never hear the end of your moping.” Shadehunter teased and ducked under the bone Moon flung his way. Upon being reminded of Winter however, Shadehunter quickly dropped his teasing smirk in favour of a much more serious frown.

 

“But seriously, you should stay away from Winter, Moon. All the Icewings if you can. I know that we’ll have to talk to them while we’re here, but it'll be safest if you avoid them as much as possible.” Shadehunter implored, his expression for once dead-serious.

 

Moon looked back at him, as though legitimately surprised that he would advise her not to continue talking to someone that just threatened her. “Why are you so worried? There were plenty of Nightwings that acted just as badly back home, but now I have to avoid every Icewing? Aren’t you being a little hasty?”

 

Shadehunter rolled his neck with frustration at her point before elaborating. “That’s because the Nightwings who picked on you were only ever a bunch of spineless lizards posturing to inflate their own egos. Icewings on the other talon are ruthless and have a hole where their heart should be.”

 

Oh yes, there’d been plenty of Nightwings who’d glare and mutter snide remarks, but Shadehunter had seen their minds and knew that it was all a bluff. Their tribe was too small, too weakened to allow such petty grudges to escalate beyond words. But Shadehunter knew that the Icewings held no such compunctions. Moon didn’t however, and by the bewildered expression on her face Shadehunter was rapidly beginning to see just how hard that was going to be to rectify.

 

“How could you possibly know that? You’ve never even met an Icewing before today.” Moon rebutted, her eyes searching for Shadehunter’s in the hopes of understanding why he insisted on such a sudden overarching restriction.

 

“C’mon Moon, I know you’ve read the same scrolls that I have. For the past 2000 years they’ve taken every opportunity they had to wipe us out.” Shadehunter countered hotly, daring her to prove him wrong. "Officially we might be at peace now, but as the tribe they’ve hated for centuries they’ll find any excuse they can to try and kill us.”

 

After his brief, impassioned speech, Shadehunter dug furrows into the ground with his talons and turned to look to the sky so that he might hide the smoke rising from his nostrils. Shadehunter could sense Moon’s lingering confusion over why he felt so strongly about this but so much of his justification relied on information she wouldn’t believe and he couldn’t prove. Moon lightly probed his defenses with her mind but upon seeing his thoughts locked up tight she opted to move over to his side and lean gently against him instead.

 

“Okay okay, message received. If it’ll make you feel better I promise I’ll be careful around Icewings.” Moon relented before adopting a stubborn tone that Shadehunter knew was impossible to argue with. “But I’m not going to write them off completely just because of an old feud. It’d be the same as saying everyone’s right to distrust Nightwings just because we had a bad Queen.”

 

The way Moon squared her shoulders told Shadehunter that that was about as far as he could persuade her without any definitive proof. Giving up a defeated sigh, Shadehunter just shook his head before sending her a rueful smile. “That’s the best I’m going to get, isn’t it.”

 

“Careful, keep making observations like that and someone might think you’re a mindreader.” Moon joked, and Shadehunter allowed himself a laugh to disperse any remaining tension.

 

Seeing Shadehunter ease up, Moon pushed one last time, “Besides, it would be pretty weird for a so-called ‘heartless dragon’ to care about a scavenger that much, wouldn’t it?”

 

But even though Moon’s question was supposed to be rhetorical, Shadehunter felt the answer bubbling up inside him all the same. [That's because he doesn’t care, not really. Because even when an Icewing pretends to have a heart and a soul and thinks that you’re the person that he loves most in the world, it will only ever be a mask they wear until they spew every venomous thought they really have. Because when they finally show you their true colours, all the trust they tricked you into giving will only hurt you more once they finally tear you to shreds.]  

 

After all, even though their relationship was doomed from the beginning, Shadehunter and Arctic had shared those that they loved. It had only ever been on the rarest of occasions, behind tightly locked doors, but there were times that Shadehunter had almost believed Arctic could care for someone other than himself. The last remnants of his rotten soul would coalesce for a single evening and, with sobs only barely audible through the walls, he would apologize profusely for how badly he treated his family. How he loved Foeslayer with all of his heart and how seeing Whiteout grow made him so unbelievably proud. But it would never last. Always, the paranoia surrounding his magic would come back. Always, would he look at the two dragons that could bare to call themselves his family and see only knives waiting to plunge themselves in his back. And then the sadness Foeslayer could hide so well would twist in her chest as she looked at the dragon screaming at her and wondered how to free the Arctic she loved from the monster he twisted himself into.

 

But Shadehunter couldn’t explain any of that to Moon without sounding completely and utterly insane. So, he swallowed his words and hoped to all the stars his warning would be enough.

Notes:

Sorry Kinkajou as much as I like you I hate juggling characters in a single scene even more. You'll get your time to shine eventually I promise. Winter and Qibli kinda took over the show for a second there but to be fair their dynamic really is quite fun.

Anyway, I'm glad this chapter came out faster than the last one and if you made it all the way down here thanks so much for reading :))

Chapter 14: Clawmates

The sky was stained a darkening indigo by the time they headed back. After their meal, the two Nightwings had talked idly about where they’d gone before arriving at the prey centre. Moon’s description of the library more than roused Shadehunter’s interest while Shadehunter impressed his memories of how to find the waterfall onto Moon in case she ever needed a quick escape route. When the final rays of sunlight began surrendering to the oncoming night, they had both decided it was high time to return. To their mutual surprise however, the moment Shadehunter and Moon made their way inside the tunnels of Jade mountain they were immediately beset upon by a Rainwing. In an explosion of pinks and yellows Moon’s shoulders were suddenly saddled with the weight of a stranger making herself at home.

 

“Peaches and parakeets, Moon! I leave you alone for five minutes and suddenly everyone’s talking about how you almost got into a fight. Then-then-then, once I heard and tried to find you, you’d just up and vanished into thin air! I was ‘this’ close to forcing Tsunami to round up a search party for you!” the Rainwing cawed worriedly from her perch directly into Moon’s ear.

 

Moon winced at the volume but seemed otherwise unbothered by this sneak attack and Shadehunter trusted Moon’s intuition enough to let her handle it, opting to merely snark instead. One of those clawmates Fatespeaker promised you’d love?

 

Moon only sent a vague feeling of affirmation in return, preoccupied as she was with keeping her balance as the dragon she’d been blanketed with shuffled about, seemingly incapable of sitting still. Ambush predator tendencies aside, the concerned words the Rainwing espoused matched near identically to her thoughts. In response to the Rainwing’s well-meaning interrogation, Moon surrendered a bemused smile before finally shifting her stance to send her unwanted passenger tumbling harmlessly onto the floor. Completely unperturbed by this turn of events, the Rainwing simply giggled from where she laid, waggling her talons playfully in the air.

 

“Hehe! Right, personal space. Not all dragons like it when you climb them like a banyan tree.” the Rainwing noted after she nimbly twisted her way back onto her talons. “So everything’s fine then and you aren’t going to abandon me here all alone in our cave with ‘Little Miss Grumpy Face’?”

 

Moon huffed fondly at the pleading, over-wide eyes the Rainwing sent her before replying. “No Kinkajou, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. There was a bit of a mix-up in the Prey Centre, that’s all. I just wanted to get some fresh air to clear my head after all the commotion.”

 

Upon hearing the good news, Kinkajou fluttered her wings and pranced about in a little dance as she let out a whoop of celebration, thoughts beaming out her relief.

 

Ridiculous. Shadehunter thought dismissively as he looked on at the silly display but, judging by how her eyes lit up, Moon seemed tickled pink at the Rainwing’s antics. Only after her excitement simmered down did Kinkajou manage to spot Shadehunter lingering on the sidelines and she huddled behind Moon as a sliver of unease ran through her. With a whisper so loud Shadehunter didn’t even have to try to overhear, Kinkajou warned Moon. “Don’t look now, but I think we have the world’s worst spy eavesdropping on our super-private-best-friend conversation.”

 

“It’s not spying if he was hanging out with me before you kidnapped the conversation.” Moon refuted with a shake of her head at Kinkajou’s overdramatic claim. “Kinkajou, this is my brother Shadehunter. Shadehunter, meet my new clawmate, Kinkajou.”

 

At Moon’s clarification, Kinkajou brightened immediately and bounded up to Shadehunter without a hint of the wariness she had previously displayed. “Well, if you’re anything like Moon I’m sure we’ll be fast friends just as quick!”

 

Shadehunter struggled not to wince in the face of Kinkajou’s cloying enthusiasm and settled for a tightlipped smile. “The same to you. It’s good to know that Moon has such an… enthusiastic clawmate.”

 

“Hah! You sound just like my other best friend Glory- oops I mean Queen Glory- when I try to talk to her after she’s spent too much time filing paperwork!” Kinkajou laughed behind a talon even as her thoughts bubbled happily. Wow, two Nightwings in a row who aren’t greeting me with a snobby self-important sneer! Maybe having a Rainwing in charge is fixing that nasty ‘better-than-you’ attitude of theirs faster than I thought!

 

Immediately, Shadehunter felt a surge of irritation at the notion that his tribe needed any sort of fixing from a foreign Queen, but he swallowed it down the best he could. It was only natural for a Rainwing to think that their own Queen was the best. What mattered was that she seemed harmless enough, there was no need for Shadehunter to sour their budding friendship by getting overly defensive.

 

Feeling a yawn attempt to break its way free, Shadehunter decided that after the long day he’d had, maybe it would be best to excuse himself for the time being. Both he and Moon had woken up far earlier than they were used to only to then spend a large chunk of that time in tiring flight just to arrive at Jade Mountain in the first place. It would be better to get some rest sooner rather than later, especially with the more diurnal lifestyle expected of the students here that he’d have to adjust to.

 

“If you’ll pardon my abruptness, I think I’m going to head back to my cave for the night. If Moon starts talking in her sleep feel free to just nudge her until she stops.” Shadehunter advised before plodding forward in the direction of his cave.

 

With a leap, Kinkajou moved in front of him to block his path as she cried out. “Aw really? We’ve barely even said hello and now you’re already turning tail to leave.”

 

Shadehunter suppressed a frown even as he rooted around Kinkajou’s head for something suitable to encourage her to let him leave.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of the ‘super-fun-clawmate-bonding-bananza’ I’m sure you have planned for Moon, now would I?” Shadehunter whispered conspiratorially as he flashed a slightly apologetic look Moon’s way. 

 

Kinkajou’s face held onto its performance of bereaved disappointment for all of two seconds before returning to its regular blinding enthusiasm at Shadehunter’s prodding.

 

“Well, I suppose I can let you off the hook this time, but only because you reminded me of how much fun me and Moon are going to have without you.” Kinkajou announced as she playfully stuck her tongue out at him. “C’mon Moon! I got the inside scoop of this whole place from Tamarin and we only have so many hours to explore until it's time for class.”

 

Moon’s face snagged into a frown at one of the words in Kinkjou’s declaration and she tentatively clarified, “‘Class’? Don’t you mean until it's ‘time to sleep’?”

 

Kinkajou just cackled as she grabbed one of Moon’s talons and inexplicably dragged the towering Nightwing behind her. “Sleep? On our first night at Jade Mountain? No way. I’m far too awake to waste our night doing that!”

 

To the pleading look Moon sent him as she was pulled away, Shadehunter simply gave her an innocuous wave goodbye in return. In spite of Moon's surface level dread at the prospect of such an energetic evening, Shadehunter could already detect the underlying joy starting to develop in response to having someone so earnestly eager to spend time with her.

 

With the onset of nightfall, the school’s atmosphere had quietened down significantly. Even the artificial lighting reflected the calmer evening mood, the candle-lit lanterns sputtering far more weakly now that the wicks inside had burnt through the majority of their wax. Hallways that had earlier been filled with the nervous chatter of dragonets now lay silent apart from a few quiet murmurs and gentle snores. Evidently, Shadehunter was hardly the only dragon to have undertaken a long flight that day and, if anything, his journey was likely one of the shorter ones. Compared to those travelling from the farther reaches of the Sand Queendom, at least the distance between Jade Mountain and the Rainforest had been traversable in a single morning. It was no wonder that those who’d been flying for multiple days had also chosen to turn in early. Although the lack of smoke-damaged lungs probably made things somewhat easier for them.

 

While waltzing through the dimming corridors back to his sleeping cave, Shadehunter’s journey was waylaid by the rumble of Mightyclaws’ tenor carrying on the wind. Shadehunter almost followed that voice to say ‘hello’ before the dark storm of thoughts clouding the dragonet’s mood warned him off of such a casual greeting. Perking his ears to better catch what Mightyclaws was saying, Shadehunter listened in just in case his friend was in trouble and needed help.

 

“How can they look at us like we’re the bad guys for lying when every single one of them had everything our entire tribe could only dream of!” The accusation was muted due to the walls separating Shadehunter from the conversation taking place, but the heat in Mightyclaws’ inflection remained audible in spite of its volume.

 

Silence reigned for a moment as Mightyclaws’ respondent took a moment to think up an answer, Shadehunter only recognising the ink scratching of Starflight’s thoughts when the librarian spoke up.

 

“Its okay to feel angry that the other students might choose to treat you unfairly, through no fault of your own, but do you think that responding in kind will help?” Starflight’s rebuttal was as calm as it was logical and upon receiving no reply from Mightyclaws he continued. “The next time something upsets you, why not try painting how you feel. It might not feel as satisfying as lashing out but I promise that it’ll help far more in the long run.”

 

Mightyclaws grumbled something too quiet for Shadehunter to hear but, judging by the lightening clouds in his mindscape, the young artist seemed willing to at least try Starflight’s suggestion. Falling back into memories of the harsh lifestyle the volcano had forced them into was hardly a new phenomena amongst the Nightwings, even with their newfound safety. Seeing just how healthy every other tribe was in comparison to the Nightwings had undoubtedly irritated those burns for Mightyclaws. 

 

It aggravated Shadehunter, that time alone was the only avenue available for Mightyclaws to heal those wounds. That he was unable to snap his claws and undo every indignity forced upon their tribe. To layer his friend’s every jutting bone with healthy muscle and unblemished jet black scales. To ensure that no one could look down on a Nightwing. But, without his scroll, there was nothing he could do for Mightclaws that fresh food and clean air wasn’t already achieving.

 

At least Starflight seemed to be doing well enough with talking Mightyclaws through his bitter recollections and with that reassurance Shadehunter cut himself out of his idle fantasising.

 

As Shadehunter neared the entrance to his sleeping cave he heard the rustle of movement from bags being unloaded. A quick dip into the inhabitant’s mind led not into the spitting brazier Shadehunter had been dreading from Flame, but rather a swift flowing river of thought, broken only by a few tiny anxious rocks in the otherwise steady current.

 

Ah, at long last. It seems that the mysterious Seawing has finally arrived. Shadehunter concluded as he paused to roll his shoulders out of the tired slump they’d fallen into. One only ever gets to make a single first impression, best make it a good one.

 

But any plans Shadehunter had for a charming introduction fell flat the moment he set foot in the entrance of his cave. For a single instant, Shadehunter’s mind went blank at the shock of seeing a dragon he had presumed laid long dead and buried. 

 

Unlike the Seawing he’d seen that morning, the dragon sitting innocently next to the seagrass mat in Shadehunter’s cave shared far more than just a passing resemblance to his old friend. The fold of the floppy crest atop his head. The worried pinch in his brow. The greyish green scales that looked just like sea glass. Even the way he tucked his wings tight against his body, as though to apologise for taking up any space at all. Nearly every detail Shadehunter could see of the Seawing casually organising his possessions was an exact replica of those of the outcast prince from 2000 years ago.

 

Calm down! He may have that traitor’s face but that doesn’t mean that’s who he actually is . Shadehunter desperately attempted to rationalize, but his flimsy denial only lasted as long as it took the Seawing to turn around and spot him standing there.

 

Platinum eyes flashed onto brown as dark as sand from the deepest ocean trenches and, in a flash, all possibility that the dragon was anyone other than Fathom himself vanished in a puff of smoke. For the moment that their gazes locked, the Seawing’s face twisted with dread-filled recognition in the exact same way Shadehunter’s had as his mind screamed out. DARKSTALKER!

 

At the sound of his old name, a monsoon of memories overcame him. He remembered fishing trips and liberal bouts of laughter as he crashed head-first into the water. He remembered bitter tears as he answered the ringing bell that signified his friend was feeling lonely and terrified eyes when he admitted to making just one more harmless, useful, enchantment. He saw the face of the only dragon to best him completely and felt an icicle of fear stab him in the gut that urged him to run as far and as fast as he could. He saw the face of one of the dragons that betrayed him the most and felt a burning hot fire in his heart that demanded retribution.

 

Fathom’s mind swirled in a similar maelstrom of mixed emotions but a kernel of true, life-threatening terror enabled him to shake himself out of his paralysis moments before the Nightwing.

 

“If you’re here to kill me I won’t make it easy.” Fathom declared with quiet determination, readying himself into a serviceable fighting stance even as his shoulders shook minutely. If all else fails, I can use my magic. No matter what he did to circumvent Clearsight’s plan, at least I still have that.

 

He’s scared of me. Darkstalker, for he could not bear his new name with this spectre of the past manifesting before him, realised with relieved disbelief. He practically killed me, has all the power to do so again, and yet he’s scared of me.

 

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that? After that last spell of yours, who knows how much of a soul you have left.” Darkstalker opined reasonably, flatting his spines out of the defensive puff they’d instinctively spiked into. The calmer I look, the more likely he is to respond in kind. I can figure out what’s going on after I’ve made sure he isn't about to enchant me at a moment's notice.

 

“Funny, and to think I believed it was impossible to convince you of the dangers of animus magic. How the tables turn.” Fathom scoffed with bitter irony at Darkstalker’s warning. Hypocrite.

 

But, as he had predicted, at Darkstalker’s reminder Fathom’s mind sped down its well-worn tracks of worry upon that old familiar wound being prodded. Even after all these years, Fathom’s memory of Albatross’ wanton slaughter remained just as clear as it had been the night they met. While it was nowhere near enough to put Darkstalker at ease, knowing that Fathom was still so paranoid of ever turning into his grandfather was better than nothing.

 

With the danger of getting blasted to pieces by an animus subsiding ever so minutely, Darkstalker slipped out of the corridor and into their shared cave. Fathom’s gaze stayed locked on every move Darkstalker made as he slunk his way into his side of the room. Even as Darkstalker reclined onto his furs, Fathom remained poised and tense, his mind chanting a litany of fear that described each and every way that Darkstalker might attack him.

 

It was only the prospect of being enchanted, of losing everything he had yet again, that enabled Darkstalker to restrain himself from tearing into Fathom the way his claws so desperately pleaded him to. As he was now, Darkstalker was all but powerless against Fathom, even if the Seawing didn’t seem to be aware of it. For the time being, it would behoove him to avoid provoking the animus, at least to the point that Fathom felt the need to smite him. A Nightwing’s pride can only bear so much injury after all. Even without Oracle’s blessing, Darkstalker knew there was no future in which he breathed the same air as Fathom where he didn’t berate the Seawing for his treason.

 

“Why so nervous Fathom? It’s just me, your dear old pal. It’s not like you betrayed me and stole me away from everyone I ever loved.” Darkstalker espoused sarcastically before dropping his face into a snarl. “Oh wait, no, that’s exactly what you did to me.”

 

“I was saving the Nightwings.” Fathom claimed resolutely and, in a rare moment of conviction for the Seawing, his thoughts affirmed this belief wholeheartedly. It rankled Darkstalker that Fathom, who was usually so uncertain, so prone to second guessing, would be unwavering in the necessity of his betrayal. Doubly so given that enacting said treachery had required him to break his oath to Pearl in the process.

 

“Oh yes, because banishing the only dragon capable of opposing Queen Diamond and subsequently exiling my tribe to live on a sulfur-ridden island for 2000 years definitely constitutes ‘saving the Nightwings’.” Darkstalker replied scathingly as his tail lashed in silent fury. How dare he act like I was in the wrong when he was the one that ruined everything!

 

But for once, Fathom didn’t wilt under the scrutiny of Darkstalker’s withering glare, the Seawing meeting his fuming anger head on. 

 

So caught up in the heated staring contest he was having with Fathom, Darkstalker didn’t even notice they had company until he heard Flame’s distinctive gravel. “If you’re going to look soulfully into each other’s eyes, save it for when I’m not here.”

 

Both Darkstalker and Fathom jolted at the interruption as their cave’s third and final clawmate prowled inside. At the presence of another dragon, Fathom’s brief stint at bravery petered out and the Seawing instantly shrunk back into his usual timid posture. On his way over to the stone hollow he’d claimed, Flame briefly scanned Fathom before snorting dismissively, having found nothing in the Seawing even remotely worth worrying about.

 

“Now that I’m back, are you done puffing smoke at each other or am I going to have to listen to your yammering while I try to sleep?” Flame drawled, the growing annoyance in his voice clearly indicating that he’d prefer it to be the former.

 

Fathom seemed to relax at Flame’s proposal, seeing the Skywing’s unsubtle demand as an easy way to escape their earlier discussion.

 

Oh no you don’t, Fathom. You aren’t getting out of this that quickly. Darkstalker promised as Fathom began to open his maw to agree with Flame’s demand that they all just shut up and go to bed.

 

“Well, we were just talking about how perfect the weather is for a night flight. I figured it’d be a great way to get to know my new clawmates better, you’re more than welcome to join in if you wanted?” Darkstalker invited, putting on his most sickeningly sweet smile.

 

Flame almost recoiled in disgust at the overly friendly gesture. “And give up the chance to have the sleeping cave all to myself? Hard pass. The less I have to see either of you, the better.”

 

With a shrug in Fathom’s direction as though to say, ‘oh well, what can you do’ Darkstalker made to leave with a flick of his tail indicating for Fathom to follow. Fathom’s displeasure at the thought of willingly following Darkstalker radiated out of him but, even without turning to look, Darkstalker could already envision the bared fangs Flame was sending the Seawing’s way. Caught between a dragon he didn’t want to see and a dragon who didn’t want to see him, Fathom reluctantly trailed after the devil he knew.

 

They’d hardly moved more than a few talonsteps out of the cave before Fathom hissed at Darkstalker. “What on Pyrrhia makes you think that I’d willingly go on a ‘night flight’ with you?”

 

“Because you want answers, the same as me. Neither of us can exactly talk openly in this hive of a mountain where any clueless dragonet might stumble onto us.” Darkstalker bluffed, his confident stride unbroken in spite of the Seawing’s interruption.

 

Fathom gaped slightly at Darkstalker’s bold assumption before hurrying along to catch up. “Maybe. But I’m not stupid enough to travel with you to some secluded location where any number of ‘accidents’ could occur.”

 

Darkstalker gave up a displeased grunt at Fathom’s objection but he had to admit that the Seawing made a fair point.

 

“Fathom, you’re an animus and therefore one of the most powerful dragons alive, no matter how reluctant you are to show it. But even if I could somehow kill you, it would be idiotic of me to do so. Flame knows that the two of us are leaving together. If you mysteriously disappeared I’d be far and away the most obvious suspect.” Darkstalker explained with a condescending tilt to his brow before adding a final afterthought. “Not to mention how badly the death of a student would affect the school.”

 

Fathom chewed over his words as they walked, clearly weighing their credibility as they neared a moonlit exit. Darkstalker might be a self-absorbed sociopath but Pyrrhia doesn’t have a Nightwing shaped tyrant ruling it just yet. Loath as I am to talk to him he isn’t wrong that there are some questions I have that only he has the answers to.

 

“Why would you give a single flying fish about what happens to Jade Mountain Academy?” Fathom questioned, honest confusion lighting his eyes. It was the first emotion other than fear that Fathom had felt towards him since their conversation began.

 

Annoying as it was, now that he’d calmed down a little Darkstalker realised he wasn’t entirely lying about the necessity of putting his revenge on hold while they were both attending here. Peace was fragile enough in Pyrrhia. If someone was killed at the continent’s pioneer institution for co-operation and prosperity, who knows what kind of uproar that would cause. At the very least, it would make it harder for a Nightwing like him to travel through other tribal territories in search of his scroll. Not that Darkstalker felt the slightest obligation to tell Fathom any of that. That the Seawing was alive and knew he existed was a disaster enough already.

 

“Believe it or not Fathom, my world before today didn’t revolve entirely around plotting out my bloody vengeance against you.” Darkstalker answered with an overly put-upon sigh. “Three Moons, and you think I’m a narcissist.”

 

“Ahah! So you do want to take revenge against me.” Fathom exclaimed triumphantly at confirming a fact Darkstalker had never even thought to hide. Acting the fool when they had clearly recognised each other would have only made the Seawing more suspicious of him. Better to play a slightly more open hand for the time being for the sake of strengthening what truly important subterfuge he might need to enact in the future.

 

“Would you have believed me if I claimed otherwise?” Darkstalker questioned with a dubious look. Upon receiving only sullen silence from Fathom in reply, Darkstalker just huffed before announcing with forced airiness, “The bad blood between us aside, at least take solace in the fact that my sister would be tremendously frightened if there was a murder on the first night of her exciting new school.”

 

With that final hook to pique Fathom’s interest, Darkstalker pushed his weary wings to take flight once more, heading east, towards the only place suitable for delving into their long dead past.

Notes:

50k words and only now does Fathom show up. Both of the boys are so so stressed at the situation but at least Flame is happy to have the cave to himself again.

Chapter 15: Disagreement

Mt. Agate looked different from when he’d last seen it 2000 years ago. Where once there had been a smooth incline up to the top of the mountain, now its surface was littered with cracks and crevasses. Trees that used to coat its lower half were now few and far in between without the stable ground they needed to take root. Most glaring of all however was its decapitated peak, the proud tip of the mountain having long since crumbled in on itself. Instead of an austere arrowpoint piercing the sky, all that remained of what used to be the summit of the tallest mountain in Pyrrhia was a moss ridden stump.

 

I guess Clearsight’s allegory wasn’t so inaccurate after all. Darkstalker thought miserably as he dropped onto the lone outcropping that remained on the mountain top. What enjoyment he attained by securing the higher ground from Fathom was diminished by the sharp pain shooting all throughout his torso. Travelling to Mt. Agate after all the strain he’d put his body through that day already had brought him dangerously close to exhaustion. In spite of the irritation, Darkstalker refused to let his weakness show by releasing the rattling coughs trapped in his chest.

 

With infuriating ease, Fathom landed a safe distance away from him and took in the sight of his old defeat with as much interest as Darkstalker had. Instead of making any small talk about how the area had changed, Fathom kept silent as he looked toward Darkstalker in anticipation of what he might say. The flight over had tempered his fear enough to allow some morbid interest to infect Fathom’s thoughts, but not to the extent that it overrode his natural aversion to taking the initiative. So it seems that the task of starting this conversation falls to me. How unsurprising.

 

There were a hundred different questions Darkstalker wanted to ask. How long had Fathom planned out his betrayal for? What had he said to Clearsight to convince her to join his side? Was he the one now using his scroll in spite of the doubts the Seawing had once had about its safety? But while he possessed many idle curiosities in need of clarification, there was one thing he had to know that was infinitely more important than any other. For it was the only mystery he hadn’t even the faintest idea of how to solve.

 

“Why are you here Fathom?”

 

Fathom looked honestly taken aback upon hearing Darkstalker’s question and almost made to speak but Darkstalker wasn’t finished. He hadn’t meant to continue, not really, had only intended to ask and then glower silently until he received an answer. But with the architect of his misfortune present before him, blame poured out of his maw before he could even attempt to stop himself.

 

“Are you here to gloat? You weren't satisfied with only hearing about how much you had doomed my tribe to disaster, you just had to see for yourself what your foul magic had wrought, is that it?” Darkstalker accused, venom dripping from his words. Confusion swapped for irritation as Fathom scowled in the face of Darkstalker’s claim.

 

“Oh yes, because it was definitely a Seawing ambassador that terrified the Nightwings so badly that they felt as though they had to abandon their entire Queendom. It totally wasn’t the fault of a maniacal, immortal, insane, sorcerer that had just disembowelled his own father in Diamond Square. My apologies . ” Fathom apologised facetiously as he scraped his wing along the ground in a mocking bow.

 

The bite to Fathom’s words stunned Darkstalker so thoroughly he was momentarily rendered speechless. Gone was the warbling diplomat all but banished from his homeland and the mind-reader would have almost been impressed had Fathom’s newly found backbone been aimed at someone other than himself. Recovering from his brief lapse into silence, Shadehunter shook off his surprise and rejoined with his own barbed words, “Don’t be dense, we were at war Fathom. Traitors were executed every other week. Arctic’s death was mercifully quick compared to leaving him to scorch away for days atop one of the palace cages.”

 

While they weren’t proudly displayed on the central square of the Night Queendom, the desiccated corpses of traitors and captured combatants had been there for all to see. Occasionally there would be a mutual prisoner release agreement between the warring tribes but, more often than not, once an Icewing was locked atop one of the castle parapets they didn’t leave alive. Arctic’s death hadn’t been painless by any extent but, in spite of its macabre unfolding, it had been faster than the days of dehydration that would have awaited him from a formal sentencing.

 

However, even as he shamelessly defended himself, Darkstalker's thoughts couldn’t quite block out the memory of Whiteout’s terror-stricken expression at seeing his unique brand of punishment. Now is not the time for doubt and regret, not in front of the Seawing!

 

No part of Fathom’s mind seemed to find Darkstalker’s defense anywhere close to satisfactory either, although he did catch the Seawing grimace as he was reminded of the traditional fate reserved for Icewings. “But he wasn’t executed, Darkstalker. That would have required a trial, a gathering of evidence, and a judge to evaluate his actions. Not that farcical performance you claimed was justice.”

 

“You saw what he was going to do, had already done to Whiteout. By my talon or the tribe’s, Arctic’s life was forfeit.” Darkstalker dismissed with a wave of his claws. Shaking his head to refocus, Darkstalker pivoted away from Arctic and reiterated his initial statement as though he hadn’t been the one to derail it in the first place. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here Fathom?”

 

And once again, under the light of a single moon, confusion made its home in the tilt of Fathom’s head. Who is he trying to fool with this act?

 

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who cursed me aren’t you? So much for ‘sealing away your magic to protect your soul’. Not that I should’ve been surprised by yet another lie from you.” Fathom derided. Darkstalker paused but, much to his surprise, everything in Fathom’s mind spoke of his wholehearted belief that Darkstalker really had been the one to bring him here. While there was an avenue in which he could leverage Fathom into believing he still had his magic, Darkstalker really didn’t want to present himself as a threat to be disposed of.

 

Seeing no other course of action other than to tell the truth, Darkstalker rebutted bitterly, “You saw my scroll, Fathom. Heard me attempt to cast a spell without it. There was nothing I could have done to send you here.”

 

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Fathom asked sceptically, brow raised in bafflement at Darkstalker’s continued insistence.

 

“Your plan worked didn’t it?” Darkstalker offered as though that was an explanation in and of itself. “Why else would I be here if I wasn’t powerless to stop the two of you without my scroll.”

 

Fathom made to reply but stopped, stumped as he was in his ability to come up with an actual answer. The only reason Darkstalker followed Clearsight to this accursed mountaintop had been because they had stolen his scroll after all. If he really had lied about relinquishing his magic, the bait with which they’d set their trap would have been useless in drawing him out.

 

But who else would have had the motive or knowledge to enchant me in the exact same way I enchanted him? Fathom stewed, idly tugging on his crest as he puzzled over the mystery Darkstalker’s confession presented.

 

Something about Fathom’s line of thought caused an itch in the back of Darkstalker’s mind. Deciding to follow his gut, Darkstalker cast his mind back to the spell he had used to protect himself.

 

“ Enchant Darkstalker of the Nightwings to be completely immune to any animus spell cast upon him and from the effects of any enchanted object other than his own or those of Fathom of the Seawings. ” It had been the only major enchantment he’d ever cast that would interfere with spells directed against him, but for some reason Fathom was here and seemed to believe that he was responsible. Darkstalker wracked his brain for anything he might have forgotten about the immunity spell he had cast all those years ago when it finally clicked. 

 

Darkstalker couldn’t stop the howls of laughter that burst from his chest at the revelation. It was only ever meant to be a trifling amusement in comparison to the importance of the shield it was tacked on to. By the time the ink had dried he had almost forgotten it existed with how much of an afterthought it had been. He had added that final addendum of his spell as a form of poetic justice should Queen Diamond or Arctic attempt anything untoward against him. Only Fathom’s very presence and testimony allowed Darkstalker to remember. Additionally, cause any animus enchantment targeted against Darkstalker to reflect back on the animus that originally cast it.

 

It seemed obvious in retrospect that that countermeasure would have come into play but he’d truly never believed it would send his fellow animus barrelling through time after him until now.

 

Given that he had exempted the Seawing in the first half of the spell Darkstalker hadn’t even suspected that it would function against Fathom at all. Especially given the fact that the spell specifically used the word targeted. Darkstalker had thought that because Fathom’s spell had actually worked against him that it would no longer count as ‘targeted’ given that the attack had actually ‘landed’. On top of all that, if Fathom’s spell had been worded generically enough that it would work against any dragon instead of Darkstalker specifically, that too would have avoided triggering his trap.

 

In a delightful twist of fate, it seemed that whatever power governed the interpretation of words used in animus magic had ruled in his favour. Without even noticing, and in spite of the numerous ways in which his snare could have failed, Darkstalker had been able to enact some slight vengeance against the one who had done this to him.

 

When Darkstalker finally got his laughter under control he looked down to see a very disgruntled Seawing standing below him. “Did you remember something funny or have you well and truly lost it?”

 

“Oh Fathom, if nothing else I thank you for this brief moment of amusement.” Darkstalker considered leaving his old friend to sit in stifled ignorance for a moment but he couldn’t resist elucidating sharing the sweet irony of what he’d discovered. “You see I never had to do anything to you when it was your own magic that sent you here in the first place.”

 

“What do you mean?” Fathom drawled warily, squinting with long-held suspicion.

 

“You just reminded me of a failsafe is all, one I didn’t even know could affect you. While your plan still worked, it triggered a counterspell that ensured you shared my fate.” Darkstalker gloated, forcing the words out around his lingering chuckles over this unexpected revenge. “Don’t you see, if you hadn’t chosen such a vicious spell to give to Clearsight neither of us would be here. This whole mess is all. Your. Fault.”

 

Fathom flinched at his words and for a moment his habitual tendency to blame himself for every potential disaster that could result from his actions took full control. Was there another way? Was enchanting him truly the only option we had available? Why couldn’t I have thought of a different spell to use?

 

But his guilt spiral only lasted as long as it took Fathom to spot the vindictive grin that had taken over Darkstalker’s snout. In an instant, that shame was drowned out by a rushing torrent of disdain.

 

“My fault?!” Fathom questioned as he stepped forward and slammed a talon into the ground in outrage. “Oh yes because I was the one casting spells left and right. Because I was the one who continued to use animus magic in spite of all the risks. Because I was the one that lied to his friends time after time!”

 

Fathom began pacing back and forth with a frenetic energy running through him that felt, strangely, more frustrated than angry. Suddenly halting his dogged march, Fathom narrowed his eyes to truly look at his old friend, as though eye contact alone would let him see behind whatever front Darkstalker might be hiding behind.

 

“Do you really think I would have broken my oath to Pearl if I didn’t think it was the only option? Was I simply supposed to lie down and let you rampage all through Pyrrhia. After all the spells you’d cast to protect yourself, what else was I supposed to do?” Fathom asked sincerely, as though he truly wanted a solution that would have allowed him to avoid the needless betrayal he had once committed. For a moment he heard Clearsight’s voice in Fathom’s question, picking wildflowers all while insisting they couldn’t even agree on what was right and wrong anymore.

 

“Not this!” Darkstalker yelled, his good humour doused and mask slipping as he desperately tried to bury the sliver of hurt Fathom’s  pleading had unexpectedly unearthed. “Sure, I was angry that two of you seemed to be taking the side of someone that wanted me dead but I never wanted to hurt either of you. Everything I was doing was to make things better!”

 

“You were going to murder the Queen, Darkstalker! How is that not the epitome of turning evil?” Fathom questioned exasperatedly, as though speaking to a dragonet that refused to accept that one plus one equaled two.

 

“I was never going to ‘murder’ her, Fathom. Unlike that old harpy I had standards.” Darkstalker retorted lightly as he tried to re-affix his unbothered facade. “I would have challenged her to a duel for the throne fair and square, like dragons have been doing for millenia. Are you going to call Queen Coral evil just because she killed her mother for the throne?”

 

“It’s hardly a ‘fair and square’ challenge if one of the participants had enchanted themselves to be invulnerable. If she never had a chance to win then that’s no different from murder and you know it.” Fathom pointed out with a growl, astutely tearing through Darkstalker’s rebuttal. 

 

“Not if she surrendered. I’d have been happy to let her rot away in prison once she realised victory was impossible. Once she understood just how utterly moronic she had been to try and oppose me .” Shadehunter spat, anger getting the best of him once again as his face became shadowed by the building glow of fire-seed he kept barely contained in his throat.

 

Darkstalker could still remember the way Queen Vigilence’s eyes had raked over his scales the first time he’d been presented at court. Even at two years old, his natural talent for mind reading had laid bare every clinical calculation that ran through her mind as she sized up his potential value to the tribe against the cost his existence generated. He had never been more than a tool for her to use for her own benefit, and so Darkstalker had felt no qualms treating her the same way. When the danger she posed outweighed the stability she maintained, taking her out of the equation entirely had been the natural conclusion.

 

“Hah, life imprisonment or death. What a benevolent start to your reign that would have been.” Fathom bit back sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, fear completely forgotten as they slipped into their back and forth.

 

“Well, I’m so happy that you’re finally appreciating all the restraint I used while dealing with a parasite who would have been happy to let her Queendom burn if it saved her own scales.” Fathom snorted with annoyance as Darkstalker deliberately misconstrued his words but the mind-reader thundered on before he could interrupt. “I’ll remind you that she tried to have me assassinated just because some crazy old seer told her to.”

 

“So then you were planning to take over for long enough that a seer saw it as a near inevitability.” Fathom pressed quickly, ignoring every qualifier in his sentence except for the one that confirmed his own bias.

 

“In one of the infinite number of futures out there, it was theoretically possible but I would hardly have called it an ‘inevitability’.” Darkstalker hedged before following up his statement. “But what was a ‘certainty’ is that Vigilance ordered my death when I hadn’t lifted a claw against her… and I hardly would have been the first to suffer such an ‘accident’ on her paranoid orders.”

 

Fathom wasn’t a fool. He had seen the ruthlessness with which nobility acted towards one another and understood first hand how much worse such treatment became when one held enough power to be considered a threat.

 

“Clearsight didn’t want you to take the throne. Committing a coup was far from your only option.” Fathom held on stubbornly.

 

“No, she didn’t. But if letting that old harpy live posed even a scrap of danger to me or mine then I’d rather have borne the brunt of Clearsight’s anger than the regret of my own grief.” Darkstalker affirmed before sliding the proverbial knife into Fathom’s chest. “I thought that you of all people would understand the cost of inaction.”

 

For the first time since their fury-filled argument began, Darkstalker felt Fathom’s resolve falter and he would have almost felt joy at seeing his old friend’s realisation that maybe there had been some rationale to his actions.

 

It was strange that the conflict emerging onto Fathom’s face still brought a twisted sense of relief to Darkstalker’s chest. He could care less about what the Seawing thought of him now but, for the friend he had once been, Darkstalker couldn’t shake the satisfaction of convincing him to see his side of things. From the moment Quickdeath’s spear had bounced off of his chest to Clearsight slipping her bracelet onto him, only a single day had passed. Almost all of that time had been so turbulent that there hadn’t been a proper place to plead his case and explain himself.

 

If he was being honest, Darkstalker had been too angry, too offended that his so-called friends had seemed more irate at his enchantments than at the assassin that had attempted to kill him and the Icewing that tried to enslave his sister. Darkstalker had wrongly assumed that he would have been able to explain himself later, that he could let them stew in their own discontent for a while before eventually showing them that everything he had done was for a good reason.

 

That ultimately, no matter how mad they were for a while, Darkstalker could justify that everything he was doing was for the sake of keeping them happy and safe.

 

Soon enough however, Fathom’s face lost the consternation that had been plaguing it just moments ago. No matter how many extenuating factors were at play, he was taking things too far. I knew it, Clearsight knew it, moons even Whiteout seemed to have some inkling of it. He’ll only ever understand if I explain it to him.

 

“That’s exactly why we had to stop you.” Fathom concluded.

 

“So that’s how it is then. The moment I do anything that makes you even the slightest bit uncomfortable you turn on me.” Darkstalker threw back churlishly. “And here you were talking about how inexcusable it was for me to kill Arctic without a trial and yet you did the exact same thing to me.”

 

“Oh, like how you talked to Indigo before imprisoning her in that statue?”

 

Too tired and wrung out to bother with clever arguments Fathom clearly wouldn’t listen to, Darkstalker kept things simple. “She struck first.”

 

“And I struck last it seems.”

 

In a charged stalemate, the two young drakes let their words hang in the air. Seeing not a hint of apology in the Nightwing, Fathom released a long exhale before moving on for the time being. Not letting it go, that white-hot nugget of anger was far too entrenched to be dislodged so easily, but shelved until there was a better opportunity to drive his point home.

 

“But at least I can understand why you’d do something like that to her. Who cares if it’ll make one of your other friends miserable, vengeance comes first after all.” Fathom said with resigned acceptance before delving into the crux of the matter both of them had been dancing around throughout their entire debate. “But to enchant Clearsight of all dragons? How could you possibly do that to the one you said you loved the most?”

 

When Fathom looked at him then, it was as though he saw something else entirely. As though he was seeing something completely alien. For it was simply beyond his comprehension that someone could commit such a transgression against one they claimed to care for. Under such judgement, Darkstalker felt an irrepressible wave of shame crawl up his back.

 

Unable to bear the idea that even Fathom thought he could stoop so low, Darkstalker confessed in a murmur, “I know.”

 

“What?” Fathom uttered, his jaw slack in shocked disbelief that Darkstalker would admit to fault so easily after digging his talons in the dirt so stubbornly.

 

“When she slipped that damned bracelet on me I could see into her mind for a moment and I finally understood why she was so afraid. Why giving her those earrings was so unforgivable.” Darkstalker explained, his voice faltering as he looked up toward the sliver of Oracle that hung in the sky for strength. 

 

Under Fathom’s scrutinising eyes, Darkstalker shrunk into himself to try and choke out the budding sorrow flowering within his gut. “I never intended for them to be permanent but mom had just been taken and Clearsight kept on looking at me like I- like I was…”

 

Darkstalker trailed off as his throat suddenly closed up around the words he was trying to say before he willed his body to retch out the last of his sentence. “Like I was going to snap at any moment.”

 

Darkstalker could still remember those bleak days with clarity. After that first night when Foeslayer had been taken, when grief had swept through him like a hurricane as he and Whiteout cried themselves to exhaustion, everything had felt different. Suddenly, it was so much harder to care about anything when he had a heart-sized hole in his chest bleeding all the colour out of his world. The only thing that had been able to rouse him from his stupor was his old familiar friend: rage. Darkstalker had known it wouldn’t fix anything, but at least he could make all those that had wronged him suffer through the same pain they had forced onto him.

 

But, in the end, for Clearsight and Clearsight alone he had stayed his talons. Because she had said it would only make things worse. Because if he tried to take an eye for an eye the Icewings would kill his entire tribe. And so, even Queen Diamond, who had wanted him dead since his hatching and whose very magic had finally claimed Foeslayer, laid untouched by anything worse than some harmless nightmares.

 

And yet, in spite of his restraint, Clearsight had still looked at him with those terrified eyes, as though his claws had already been stained irrevocably blue. Maybe if he had been able to read her mind to see the love she held for him in spite of her fear that might have softened the blow. Might have made him realize the depth of her care for him that she would still be so honest when all her foresight advised her not to. However, when the only recourse available to him was the facial expressions that he found infinitely harder to decipher, Darkstalker had only felt condemned to forever be seen as the nightmare Clearsight was so scared of.

 

“When my powers made her uncomfortable, I made a scroll that removed my magic completely.” Darkstalker whispered with a growing rumble, his claws slowly raking against the stone beneath him and emitting a horrendous shriek. “When she wanted to keep her thoughts to herself, I made a bracelet that protected her mind entirely. But when I asked her to do the same, to stop using her power to look down those darker paths and judging me for things I had never done, she refused!”

 

Darkstalker’s eyes were wild now as he finally exposed the festering wound he’d kept carefully sealed away from the moment he had hatched in that rainforest clearing all those years ago. “I just wanted her to see me for who I was, is that so wrong! That I hated how she always looked at me for some monster I could become!”

 

Spittle flung from his maw at the ferocity with which he raved, yet Fathom stayed impassive under the brunt of his desperate pleas.

 

“And yet in giving her those earrings you proved her exactly right.” Fathom claimed with soft-spoken certainty.

 

In that single sentence Fathom effortlessly untangled Darkstalker from the knot of self-righteous fervor he had wound himself up in.

 

Regret burbled within him in an unstoppable flood and forced Darkstalker to bow his head in a pitiable attempt to conceal his guilt-wracked expression. It had been only for a moment but he had seen some of the future’s Clearsight had been afraid of when she took off the bracelet. Had felt her grief and heartbreak and bone-deep fear. If he hadn’t been blocked from seeing how she had felt, Darkstalker was sure he would have listened to her earlier; would have been able to see how much those earrings had been a betrayal of trust.

 

But from the moment he first made her that bracelet she had never once taken it off. When her actions so clearly showed that she never trusted him for even a moment in return, it had seemed like fair play. He had made a promise to never look into her mind and when she asked for an enchantment to ensure he kept it, Darkstalker had given one to her.

 

So, when Darkstalker had asked her to promise not to look into those grimmer futures and she hadn’t even considered agreeing he had simply given her an enchantment to nudge her in the right direction. But even then I hid it away because some part of me knew she wouldn’t agree to it if I just asked.

 

Once he had wrested control of his expression from the roiling wave of emotion that had overtaken it, Darkstalker peered up from where he had tucked his head and met Fathom’s gaze. In stark contrast to the indignation that lingered there for most of the evening, now the Seawing's eyes held a glimmer of understanding. All at once Darkstalker remembered how Fathom had looked when he first arrived in the Night Queendom: battered, frightened and so inconsolably worn down after a year of isolation and derision from his entire tribe.

 

“I just wish I could have apologised. Or at least explained why I did it.” Darkstalker admitted in a bid of sincerity that surprised even him before that shallow bond of shared understanding was drowned out by familiar long-nurtured spite. “But you just had to convince her that it was too late. That there was no time to talk things through. That ‘this’ was the only option left, didn’t you Seawing.”

 

In the face of Darkstalker’s rising vindictive anger, Fathom just chuckled humorlessly before looking down on him with such pity that it stopped Darkstalker cold. “I didn’t, actually.”

 

“Oh, because I’m sure there was some other dragon around with a paralyzing fear of animus magic that could convince Clearsight to turn on me so completely?” Darkstalker cut in with an incredulous snort.

 

Fathom just shook his head with a sigh, not even bothering to acknowledge Darkstalker’s interruption before continuing. “Did you know that I actually thought we should check the soul-reader one last time, just in case there was still a chance we could talk you down? Clearsight was adamant that we couldn’t risk it. That if we delayed for even a second you might have killed me.”

 

Fathom paused for a moment wondering whether or not to say the following sentence before concluding that it was necessary for Darkstalker to hear, no matter how much it might hurt. The Seawing pitched his voice low but, no matter how gently he spoke, what he said would never be anything other than agonising. “That you might have killed her.”

 

Fathom’s words stoked such rage in Darkstalker that he could no longer hold in the furious roar that had been building in his throat the moment he saw his old friend again. With what little self control he still possessed, Darkstalker aimed his jaws at the sky as the bonfire that was flaring in his stomach rushed out hotter than any he had ever conjured before. A solar flare burned itself in the night above him and Darkstalker might have even spotted the tiny flecks of blue intermingling beautifully in that river of orange and red had he the mind to think in that moment.

 

When, at last, the air in Darkstalker’s lungs ran out, the Nightwing shut his maw with the finality of a guillotine and turned his scowl back down onto the source of his ire. Fathom’s eyes had widened and he had stumbled back with limbs trembling but, whether out of fascination or obligation, some hidden steel kept the Seawing from fleeing as he waited for Darkstalker to continue.

 

“Don’t you dare lie to me Fathom.” Darkstalker warned with a guttural snarl, his voice hoarse and raspy but filled with more murderous intent than ever before. “I loved her more than anybody and, in spite of everything her visions made her fear, Clearsight loved me too. Even in those final moments, the entirety of her mind wished more than anything that there was another way. How can you say it was her idea when I felt the overwhelming grief in her thoughts.”

 

Fathom, in a show of stalwart bravery Shadehunter would never have guessed he possessed, stood his ground before the enraged Nightwing in front of him and met that ice-filled glare head on. Gulping down the fear flooding out of him in waves, Fathom offered with as much courageous conviction as he could muster, “Then read my mind, you still have the teardrops after all. My memories can’t lie to you.”

 

They could actually. Not easily, and only by omission, but it was possible. There was no way that Fathom could know that though and Darkstalker wasn’t about to arm him with even more information on his powers than he had already. Blazing past a trepidation he pretended not to feel, Darkstalker gave Fathom a nod as he pushed into his mind.

 

And, in spite of the blurry nature of the millenia old memory, despite how much he wanted to avert his mind’s eye the longer it played out, Darkstalker saw that all Fathom had claimed was true. Clearsight had been the one resolute in her belief that it was too late as the shrouded light of dawn lit her worried violet eyes. It was Clearsight who had pleaded in a panicked wavering voice for Fathom to enchant something to seal him away.

 

Most damningly of all, it was Clearsight alone, her shoulders shaking, silent, and grief-stricken in the knowledge of what she was about to do, who clutched unfalteringly at a copper wire bracelet. Where Fathom had stood in desperate disbelief that he would have to use his magic against someone he thought he could trust yet again , Clearsight's will had been ironclad in her terror of how Darkstalker might kill them all if she failed.

 

For all that Darkstalker wished to howl and argue and cling desperately to the belief that every scrap of what the Seawing was showing him was a trick, he knew that it wasn’t.

 

Fathom had never forced Clearsight to abandon him, even attempting to believe that farce was an insult to the love that they’d shared. Somewhere deep in his soul that he refused to acknowledge, Darkstalker had suspected the truth. It was why he had refused to think of her at all. To let his thoughts linger on the dragon he had once believed destined to be his soulmate would have inevitably led him to a conclusion he had not wished to uncover. That the only dragon who had ever been able to convince Clearsight he was beyond saving was Darkstalker himself.

 

Faced with a truth he couldn’t accept and a dragon that wouldn’t let him deny it, Shadehunter violently ripped himself off of the ground and fled.

 

Notes:

Ough these two have so many things to say to each other. When I was first thinking about the outline of this fic I foolishly thought I could unpack all of their baggage in a single chapter. As you can see here that did not happen but that's alright, that just leaves more room for them to talk later. Hopefully when they're less likely to pick at each other.