A/N: Okay so this is a really old idea I had from back in December 2015 (written January 30, 2016) and I think I had quickly read through the lore? So it's a little old and probly off but eh, I had taken time to hand write it so I thought why not type it up?
Oh, okay. One of my notes here says to mention that the Arcanist woke up cocooned in his own wings, and Nocturnes are bat-like. So I did have more basis.
R & R please!
DISCLAIMER: Nah bro I don't own Flight Rising or any of the associated characters in this.
The Truth Of Night Of The Nocturne
He slithered over shadowed ground, wandering deeper into the Tangled Wood.
Well, 'wandered' wasn't the best word, as he knew where he was going. Roughly.
He glanced over his shoulder, past the frail wing tucked close to his thin frame, into the eerie silence. Nothing scurried or scuttled in this light-forsaken place. He pulled three of his stick-thin arms closer, the same number of rounded, elliptical objects in his needle-like talons gathered to him in safety. He didn't completely trust The Shadowbinder - well, actually he did trust her, or he wouldn't be doing this. What he didn't trust was the tricks and dark thoughts, heavy and solid in the dark air.
Now was not a good time to be pranked.
He was almost past the Foxfire Bramble, when a voice dripped through the gloom, like oil dripping from trees.
"What are you doing here, Shadespeaker?"
The Arcanist whipped his head around so fast it was a wonder that his fragile neck didn't snap.
The Arcane dragon calmed when he saw her violet eyes glow from the shadows, like a cat's. Soon, the whole dragon materialized from the gloom, almost a full swath from the dark shadows. He barely saw the almost black colored slab of rock she lay upon, almost regally, with her forearms crossed. From her subtle expression he could tell that she was not pleased, despite her using her "fond" nickname for him.
After the fall of the Pillar, the other dragons had avoided him like The Plaguebringer (worse than her, actually). The Earthshaker seemed to have a particular dislike for him, though. As a result he had no friends among his elemental fellows; that is, until The Windsinger had taken it upon himself to be everyone's friend, and The Shadowbinder… well, she had decided for some reason to be his 'acquaintance' or something.
Bottom line is that he didn't have a lot of options, and he trusted her, even more than Windsinger.
So he needed her help.
But he wasn't exactly sure how to go about it.
He shuffled awkwardly, all his spindly limbs shifting. Bright, fuchsia eyes were trained to the ground, missing when her violet ones caught sight of the objects he carried in his paws.
"Err … so I need your help, Shadowbinder. I, um, did a th-thing by accident, and, er-"
"Are those eggs?!" She screeched, sitting up abruptly and wings flaring with a snap! It was actually quite comical.
The Arcanist glanced down at them, then lifted them up for closer inspection, smiling sheepishly.
They were two-shelled - the undershell darker purple and the uppershell only capping it in thick, pale, dust like purple like spattered mud or saliva. Shadowbinder narrowed her eyes, a sly, calculating look, while inside blossomed grotesque wonder.
"What did you do?" She finally whispered, in awed horror.
The Flights already existed, and in them quite a few dragon breeds. Her sister, The Lightweaver, had created The Imperials ('So high and mighty, eh?' She had sneered) and The Pearlcatchers ('Stuck up lightbulb'). The other Elementals had created breeds as well, including herself and her Mirrors (she purred at the thought.)
But the only species The Arcanist had made were the Fae - fast populating, self-maintaining drakes that were more like fireflies than dragons. But these things? Obviously unplanned, going by the fear so clearly etched on his face.
"I was making a new lense," he said, words tumbling as he dove straight into an explanation. "There's - it's - a special astronomy event is coming up and I wanted a specific lense for my telescope but I turned for two seconds and my wing knocked something over and then these appeared and ohdear Idon'tknowwhattodoand-"
"Calm down, coward!" She snapped, using another 'nickname'.
He stopped, breathing a little panicked.
"I'm assuming you want my help?" A nod. She sighed, turning her as she thought about it, almost becoming completely invisible in the murkiness as he couldn't see her eyes.
Truth was, he was the youngest out of all of them. The Eleventh. And who knew how high-maintenance these things would be? It was obvious why he didn't go to Windsinger, and he wasn't good with the unknown himself; but would it be fair to herself? But she also couldn't let the poor things die…
Arcanist bobbed his head worriedly. Would she do it? She wouldn't abandon him, surely? Albeit it was his mess, but still-
"I'll do it," she said at last, without turning to look at him.
He stiffened for a moment. Blinked. "Really?" His voice barely above a whisper.
Shadowbinder finally turned to him, blinking slowly. It was a soft look. "Of course," she grumbled, expression pulling back to annoyance they both knew to be teasing. "Couldn't let you do something stupider, right? So. What are they called?" She hopped off the slab fluidly, standing before him.
He set the eggs down before her, gently. "Er … didn't really think of one. Hmm," he hummed, eyes flickering to her briefly, then up as though he could see the sky. "They'll probably be nocturnal, because of what I was working on … 'Nocturnes', perhaps?" A bony arm reached up, another one lifted slightly by the motion, as he scratched the pale ruff on his neck.
She shrugged, pulling the eggs closer. "Good enough, I guess." She carefully picked up two in her forepaws, intending to carry the third gently in her mouth when she takes off.
Arcanist clasped his two upper pass in gratitude, face lit up and smiling wide. "Oh thank you, Shadow! Thank you so much!"
Shadowbinder growled at the shortened version of her name (only he would dare. And her sister), then huffed, "What was this 'special event' anyways?"
So he smiled, and told her.
LINE BREAK LINE BREAK LINE BREAK
About a week later…
Shadowbinder rested around the nest, watching the eggs intently. They should be hatching any minute now.
She was somewhere in the Forum Of The Obscured Crescent, where the trees still grew thickly and darkly, but one, circle opening through the darkened leaves showed a patch of sky with the stars and (currently crescent) moon that The Arcanist loved so much. Their conversation came back to her, then.
"What was this 'special event' anyways?"
A toothy grin split his features. "The Winter Solstice."
"The what?"
His arms fell limp and he looked away, exasperated.
"Why does everyone ask that?" He muttered, then turned to her and explained. "You know the 'month-of-no-festival', right?"
"Yeah…"
"That falls during what I call Winter - it's a particular tilt of our planet during the year, along with three others called Spring, Summer, Autumn. These 'Seasons' affect the atmosphere slightly, having some force on the weather. A Solstice is a special day during its Season."
"So they all have a, uh, Solstice?"
He snorted, and she would have laughed at his serious expression. He sure loves his Astronomy thing. "Of course not! Winter and Summer do, but Spring and Autumn have an Equinox."
"Okay…"
He crossed all sets of arms, knowing she wouldn't care for an in-depth explanation.
Seeing him pouting, she rolled her eyes. "So what is a Solstice."
His pout morphed back to a grin of draconian proportions.
"Specifically the Winter one? It's the longest night of the year."
She was startled out of a sleep she hadn't been aware she'd dozed into, and quickly glanced up to the sky. Midnight.
Her ear twitched, and she turned back the nest, as the eggs began to shudder, one-by-one. Then there was a sound like a ladybug being cracked between teeth, and the shell began to split apart.
A thrill shot through her as this new species - her new species - was born.
LINE BREAK LINE BREAK LINE BREAK
And on a hill, far away, a dragon sat in his tower, a powerful telescope used to watch stars die, was being used to watch something be born.
END