What do you think you're doing, Nightwing?
Keep your powers to yourself.
Don't even think about trying to read my mind, I promise you won't last longer than a minute.
Trying to see the future? Give up. You're never going to get anywhere.
Give up.
Give in.
The academy was surprisingly quiet. Probably because everyone was all in class. Possibly something else. Who knows. But in a dormitory, asleep on a bed of straw, was a Nightwing. He was supposed to be in a class himself, but for multiple reasons he wasn't. Although deep down inside, he knew he should. The academy was the famous Jade Mountain Academy, the very first intertribal school in Pyrrhia. After many years, other schools like this appeared across the continent, but it was still an honour to be invited into Jade Mountain. With years to learn, and very talented staff, the curriculum was advanced, and most left with high educations; a higher percentage than the other schools. By a lot. The academy was sorted into Winglets, with each Winglet having seven students. Coincidentally, the same amount of tribes there was in Pyrrhia. Except it wasn't a coincidence at all. The jet-black dragon rolled over, showing star-like speckles on his wings. Nothing moved in the scene for many minutes. Then the bell rang, a slow, low ringing coming from an actual bell in the center of the building. The Nightwing groaned, and opened his eyes. Even after the two hour nap, he still felt exhausted, and the stress from the previous days showed. Below each of his eyes was a silver teardrop shaped scale. The chattering of dragons rang through the halls of the building, which were carved into the mountain itself. The Nightwing of question was part of the Quartz Winglet, and shared a dormitory with an Icewing and a Sandwing. One still hated Nightwings and would eliminate them all if he could, and the other hated being around anyone, and she looked down to anyone less athletic than herself. Needless to say, it was a horrible matchup. The Icewing came in first, took one look at the dragon in bed, and then looked away. "Someone seems to think he was too special to go to class, and decided to take a sleepy-sleep instead." He mocked viciously.
"Leave me alone Seal."
"You think you can just decide to skip classes and take a nap instead?"
"I. Said. Leave. Me. Alone." The Nightwing growled, turning back over.
"What are you going to do, huh? Forget about it, just like everything else? Your score is practically zero, which makes perfect sense."
And then the most peculiar feeling washed over him. He turned to face the Icewing, looked him straight in the eye, and said in the coldest voice imaginable, "If you don't shut up, I will kill you." His words were like a dagger, and Seal stopped instantly. The Nightwing's stare was icy-cold and was dead serious. The Icewing saw the wisdom in doing what he said, and promptly turned around. The Nightwing was completely surprised. Surprised by his own venom. He didn't know how to feel. He turned back over, reached for some make-up work, and then decided against it. Each paper on the stack had "for Shadowcaster" on it in neat handwriting. As Seal was grabbing the materials he needed for his next class, the Sandwing walked in. Her name was Cactus, a generic name for a generic dragon. Although not exactly far from the truth, as she was, Shadowcaster thought, a pain in the ass. As much of a prick as the physical one. She walked in, looked at the messy Nightwing, rolled her eyes, and walked to her spot in the dormitory. Shadowcaster sat up, and rubbed his eyes. Beside him was a small pack with his work, and the tools to do said work. Next to that was a small pile of wood, and a knife. The knife was obviously for carving, and that's exactly what he did. Technically weapons were against the rules, and could land him in serious trouble. The only people who were a threat to his secret though were his clawmates, and they had many of their own secrets. There was a mutual agreement that what was said in the dorm stayed in the dorm. There wasn't much more that happened in the dormitory, and soon Seal left, along with Cactus. Shadowcaster sighed, and picked up his bag. He walked out of the dormitory and towards history, hoping not to run into last class's teacher who was no doubt furious. He did.
"Shadowcaster, homework?" She already knew the answer, and did it only because of protocol. Shadowcaster shook his head with a grimace, knowing he'd see her disappointed face once again. He did. The teacher moved on, leaving him at his "desk." He looked around, and noticed Seal at his usual spot. He seemed to be doing something, but Shadowcaster couldn't figure out what. Seal noticed his staring, and mouthed, stop reading my mind. Shadowcaster sighed, and looked away. Contrary to popular belief, he couldn't actually read minds. He was a future-seer, and even then, he only got two visions in his entire life. Which wasn't that long. Six years to be exact. The silver scales were more show than anything. Honestly, he had no clue how he had the smallest reputation in the school. But he did. He felt alone, abandoned, useless. There were some people who didn't mind him, but he had no actual friends. The only thing that kept him from losing his sanity was a certain Nightwing called Lightbringer. She didn't actually talk with him much, but unknown to everyone, including her, he had a major crush on the dragon. Her personality, her laugh, her interests, he loved it all. But he never really had the courage to confess to her. What if she rejected him? What would he live for? There was nothing.
"Shadowcaster! Are you even listening?" The question came from the teacher, a Seawing who was looking at him in dismay.
"Maybe you're going too fast. Maybe his poor brain can't comprehend it all." He knew instantly it came from Seal. The teacher glared at him, but didn't make a move. Shadowcaster laid his head down. "Yes ma'am." He said meekly. He was lying, but didn't really care at this point.
"Good. As I was saying, some of the most recent examples of criminal gangs that went further than street material were The Crooked Talon, The Black Tail, and Impossibility. Two of which were located in Possibility. But unlike Margon, they didn't end up controlling half of the Sandwing Kingdom. Does anyone care to explain why the Sandwing Kingdom has the most criminal activity?" Shadowcaster couldn't care less, and closed his eyes. One more hour, one more hour, that's all there is until lunch. Even as he thought about it, his stomach growled. One more hour. That's not that much, right? It wasn't really. But that didn't stop it from feeling like eternity, each second a minute, and each minute an hour.
You no good, useless Nightwing.
What do you think you'll achieve?
Too stupid to do anything, to pitiful to want to do anything.
Why are you even here?
Why are you even alive?
The moment finally arrived, and the bell rang. For Shadowcaster, the sound was heavenly. He grabbed all of his stuff, quickly dropped it off at his dormitory, and quickly ran to the prey center. Even though it was almost as lonely as class, he still enjoyed listening to the chatter. He made sure to keep up with the gossip, and secretly had opinions for all of them. He didn't really have anyone to voice it to though. Also the good thing about lunch was the lunch. This time he chose a fresh deer, being early enough to get the fresh stuff. The lonely Nightwing sat down against the wall of the center. A few minutes later the other dragonets started to walk into the Prey Center. Shadowcaster yawned, watching them walk in, fight for the food, and then eventually settling down. Among them was Lightbringer, walking in laughing with a group of her friends. Shadowcaster felt that longing once again, and he wished he could sit with her. As much as he wished to ask if she liked him back, he decided to do it slowly. He came up with a plan right there, knowing he couldn't hide it any longer. After school, I'll just ask her how she feels about me. Simple. Maybe we could become friends, even if she doesn't like me. I know it's quite a lot to hope for, being… mates… but even if we were just friends, I'd be happy. He was very optimistic about this, and even thought he was being too rational. This was the first time in months he felt anything close to happiness. Lunch really didn't last that long, and he ended up spending half the time trying not to look like a freak. Any more than he was already considered. Once again he tried to figure out how exactly they thought he was always reading someone's mind. He was the only one in the school to have powers, and if anyone else had them, they might have been able to stop it. After lunch was the small bit of time that they had free time. Shadowcaster disappeared into his dorm, and spent the thirty minutes carving a quick image. A gem of a sort to be exact. A gem carved into wood. The concept was interesting, at least that's what he thought. The bell rang once again, signaling their last class of the day. For Shadowcaster, it happened to be Reading and Writing. The writing part wasn't hard, as he had beautiful handwriting and a creative mind. The reading part was difficult though. Which was rather odd once you thought about it, as usually you were good at both or at none. But for some reason, he just couldn't figure out reading. He wasn't illiterate, just found it difficult to focus on the story. Or the main idea. The class went over quite a lot of nonfiction scrolls. The class itself went by rather slowly, but it wasn't as bad as history. At least he had something to do with his mind other than copy down notes he'd forget within an hour. The air was warm, but luckily it wasn't too hot, thanks to the ventilator shafts that had been installed into each room. By the end of the class, Shadowcaster was practically counting down the time left. The school day finally ended with the sweet relief of the bell being rung, although he never really figured out who actually rings it. The Nightwing grabbed his stuff, and ran to his dormitory. He threw his school items down beside his bed, and put the finishing touches on the carving. After he was semi-satisfied with his work, he put it away, and hid the knife from any staff eyes. The knife itself was a little bit longer than a claw, with one side being serrated and the other being a flat blade. While potentially dangerous, it was most certainly something that had never been used as such before. Shadowcaster took a deep breath, and walked outside of the dormitory. He knew exactly where Lightbringer was. She was in the Gold Winglet, which was located only two caves away. She was so close, it took less than a minute. Honestly he thought it was kind of weird, and didn't know what he was going to say, but trusted his instinct. He stepped into the room. Luckily everyone else was gone, and it was just her. She was in her bed, finishing some schoolwork, when she noticed him. "Hello Shadowcaster. What do you need." Her voice was neither angry nor welcoming. It was completely neutral.
Shadowcaster cleared his throat. "I uh… I just wanted to stop by… Look, I need to know something. This is really weird and all, but what do you think of me? Like..."
Lightbringer looked confused. "What do you mean? You're just a Nightwing, who goes to this school. I don't think anything about you."
Those words struck him in the chest, but he tried to shrug it off. Another deep breath. "Look, the thing is, I like you… I… I think of you. I think you're pretty cool, you know?..." Heat sufficed his scales.
Realization hit her. She didn't know what to say for a bit. Then finally, "Are you saying you have a crush on me?" And then she laughed. But it wasn't the laugh Shadowcaster loved. It was mocking. Mocking him. And then he realized, she didn't like him at all. She didn't care about him one bit. It wouldn't have made a difference whether or not he even existed. And then suddenly he wanted to not exist. He had no purpose. Why was he here? "You silly fool. I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but I really don't think you should try to ask me about that stuff. I don't want to break your dear heart. Also, I like someone else, so it wouldn't work out anyways. Now don't you have work to catch up on?"
"You already have." Was all Shadowcaster said. He was shattered, not expecting such a brash rejection. He walked out of the room, a tear falling from his eye. He got into his dormitory and then crawled into his room. Everyone else was out for dinner. He rolled over so that no one could see him. He was crying.
Everyone was asleep, except for a lone Nightwing. He laid there, looking at the wall. His will to live was shattered. There was only one reason why he still saw light in the world, and that was the Lightbringer herself. Until now. He looked at his carvings, and then his eyes strayed to his carving knife. Every detail was crystal clear, his night-vision catching everything. He wanted to die. And he just realized he could. The pain of taunting, the pain of regret, the pain of the heart, and the pain of being forgotten. He was alone. And he hated everyone. He hated Seal, he hated Lightbringer, he hated Cactus, he hated Fang, he hated everyone else who threw him away, and he hated himself. He wanted to die, and he just realized he could. But he wasn't going to die alone.
The next morning, he stayed in bed. No one questioned him, and he let them leave, sleeping in late. Once the first class had started however, he stood up. This was the day. He didn't care about anything anymore. He just wanted people to remember him once he died. Shadowcaster picked up the knife, and drew the blade against his arm. Just the littlest bit of pressure caused a cut, and blood welled on the wound. The blade was ready, and deadly. He slipped the handle in between his talons, hiding it slightly. He walked out of the room, and started down the hallway. No one. He turned a corner. How lucky can you get? Down the hall of this new corridor was Seal, walking to class. He was late, and was about to be later. Walking as quietly as possible, Shadowcaster neared his target. Seal dropped something, a scroll, and had to stop to pick it up. Shadowcaster was right behind him. The Nightwing grabbed the Icewing by the snout, and pulled him back. The knife was on Seal's throat, and then Shadowcaster dragged it across, slicing easily through the scales and into the skin below. Flecks of blood flew from the knife as it exited. The Icewing let out a gurgling noise, and blood poured from the cut, flowing from the vein that had been slashed open. And then he grew limp, and the Icewing fell to the floor. The red liquid pooled beside the corpse. Shadowcaster looked at the body, and felt a slight hint of satisfaction. After so many months, his tormentor was dead. But there was still more. He continued down the hallway, walking quite a bit. And then at the water fountain, made by using natural streams, was a Skywing. "Can you come here for a second?" He called to the Skywing. The Skywing looked suspicious, but she walked over to him. She stopped in front of him, and opened her mouth. Before any words escaped, the faithful knife was suddenly embedded in her chest. She gasped, and then Shadowcaster twisted the blade around. The Skywing clutched her chest and tried to grab Shadowcaster, but fell to the ground, the effort too much. She coughed, blood spurting out. Shadowcaster pulled out the knife, and then shoved it back into her chest again, hitting the heart this time. The Skywing's heart cut itself to pieces on the blade, and within a minute she was still. Shadowcaster grabbed the weapon, and yanked it out. A spurt of blood caught his hand, covering it in red. The third victim was a Mudwing. He was outside of the library, waiting for it to open, and then Shadowcaster walked up to him. The next thing the Mudwing knew, a short knife was jammed into his throat. He ripped out the trusty knife and watched as the Mudwing fell against the wall. The knife never failed him before as he drew it across wood, and it didn't fail him now as he drew it across scales. The library was closed, but Shadowcaster still opened the door.
"Who is it? I'm busy right now, come back at a later time." The librarian said. It didn't matter to Shadowcaster. He walked in, and saw him sorting out scrolls. The librarian looked at him. "I said that I'm busy. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in class?" Shadowcaster jumped across to the librarian, who was actually rather close, and without warning, shoved the blade into his head, underneath his snout. The librarian convulsed, and let out a choked gasp. He was the quickest to die, his eyes rolling back into his skull. The knife was soaked in blood by now, and Shadowcaster was covered in it. The room itself smelled like death, foul and smothering. Then a shout from the hall, and Shadowcaster knew he was discovered. Knife in hand, he raised it up to his chest. The point was hovering above his heart. And then he jammed the knife in. The blade felt ice cold, shockingly so. It was as if he had been stabbed by an icicle rather than a knife. The pain was massive, the severed nerves screaming in agony. And then it all started to fade away, as his vision dimmed, and his mind slowed. The iciness spreaded through his veins. And then a Nightwing ran into the room with shock and fear. It was Lightbringer. The last thing Shadowcaster saw. And then his vision faded, and the ice crept into his head. He passed into the void, but not before he took the lives of four other dragons. Shadowcaster fell to the floor, his life gone.
The end for him.
The end for the others.
This could all have been avoided.
But it wasn't.
Because no one cared.
And that's how he died, hoping that now, they might care a bit more.