AN: Hello, everyone!
If you're someone who's been reading all my stories, first of all, thank you so much for your continued support! Secondly, you're probably thinking that this wasn't one of the choices on my poll. The reason I wrote about Moon instead of one of those dragons was because the poll is currently at a four-way tie and I'm honestly not sure how I should handle that. If any of you haven't voted yet (either because you were unaware of the poll or because you don't particularly care which order I write them in), I'd appreciate it immensely if you went and broke the tie. XD
On a more serious note, this story is extremely personal to me, so please be gentle with your constructive criticism for this one. Don't hesitate to give some advice if you have some, though; I always appreciate your feedback. All I mean is that even if you think that this isn't the way Moon would handle the situation, please don't review just to say "she's out of character!" or something like that. Thanks!
Disclaimer: This story contains spoilers for basically the entire second arc. If you haven't read Wings of Fire up to Darkness of Dragons, you might want to hold off until you finish before reading this.
This story is dedicated to everyone who has been manipulated, misled, or otherwise betrayed by someone they cared (or still care) about, whether it was a romantic relationship or friendship. I hope you can find some closure and eventually move on.
It feels strange to be back at Jade Mountain, mostly because the other students are relieved that things have gone back to normal. For me, this state they call "normal" is completely new. There had never really been any normalcy for me here.
How could there have been, with the constant bombardment of thoughts and plans to murder and attempted murder and, behind it all, the mysterious yet benevolent voice of an ancient NightWing speaking in my mind?
I still think of him that way sometimes.
Benevolent.
Despite everything.
It's hard to reconcile the kind, regretful dragon I thought I'd known with the selfish, manipulative, genocidal one Darkstalker had later proven himself to be. He'd been lying to me from the very beginning, making himself out to be some kind of tragic hero when in reality he only wanted freedom whatever the cost. He'd studied his myriad futures, known exactly what to say to convince me that he was my friend, and said it.
Somewhere along the way, beneath the clever planning and charming deceit, had he grown to genuinely care for me?
I think so.
Or I thought so, anyway. Then again, I might only have been seeing what I wanted to see. I'll never know for certain.
As Kinkajou, Turtle, and I settled back into the routine we had barely started before leaving to fulfill my prophecy, we all remained keenly aware that there were four dragons missing. Carnelian, who had been my clawmate; and Umber, who I had never known well but who had been Turtle's friend. And Winter. And Qibli.
But for me, there was a fifth dragon missing. Darkstalker.
Sometimes, when I'm not really thinking about it, I still extend my thoughts to him, hoping to hear his voice in my mind. Hoping to make him laugh at some joke I make which exists only in our shared thoughts. Because despite everything, I'll never be able to forget that he was the first friend I've ever had.
That makes me occasionally angry—the kind of fury that comes from heartbreak—and Kinkajou will find me in our room at Jade Mountain, fiercely wiping away tears of regret and frustration.
Why can't I let go of the past? I cry. Why can't I accept that Darkstalker was only using me and that he never really was my friend? Why can't I accept that I need to find a way to move on?
She tells me that it's okay, that she was my real first friend and that she'll always be here for me. He can't hurt you anymore, Moon.
But she's wrong. The memories of him hurt me every day.
Kinkajou embraces me in her multi-colored wings, trying to ease my pain. And I love her for trying, but she doesn't understand this pain, and as a result, her words can never wash it completely away.
What I need is for someone to tell me that it's okay for me to feel this way, that they understand why I miss him. That they understand what I saw in Darkstalker, understand why I still consider him my friend, even if it was never real.
No one does.
Even Qibli, for all his intelligence, doesn't really get it. I don't blame him, though; he needed to be the practical one and recognize that we had to take down Darkstalker, when I couldn't see past blind sentimentality. He needs to be smart and objective when all I can be is foolish and biased, just like I need to be compassionate and kind when he falls prey to his superiority complex. We balance each other.
I've been thinking about Qibli a lot lately, as I wander the school's crowded yet somehow empty halls. Winter too. It isn't a secret that they both have feelings for me, as much as I've tried to pretend I don't notice.
And I care about both of them. I really do.
Part of me doesn't want to choose between them at all, because I don't want to risk hurting either of them beyond repair. I've seen their minds and hearts, and I know how much each of them struggles with self-loathing. I fear choosing one over the other will be like rejecting the one I don't pick, telling him that he's not worthy of love.
But I don't want to be like Clearsight, who kept putting everyone else's happiness before her own. She risked everything to be with Darkstalker and almost lost everything. From almost the moment she hatched, she thought only of saving the world, even if it cost her whole life and all her dreams. She couldn't explore the world until after he was gone. She had no future without him, and no matter how much she loved him, having no choice but to be with someone is never a good thing.
I'm glad Darkstalker failed to bring her back from the dead. I think she would have been miserable to have been dragged back into a world where he ruled everything, not only all her possible futures but now everyone else's too.
Some dragons think it's selfless, that giving up everything for love is a good thing, the right choice. But I don't. I don't think that's emotionally healthy.
What good is giving up everything else in the name of love if you don't even love yourself enough to insist on doing what's right for you?
It wouldn't be the same exact choice, but the reasoning is the same. I'd be giving up what I really want—a relationship with either Qibli or Winter—so that someone else wouldn't be unhappy. Clearsight gave her soulmate chance after chance after chance, but nothing would never be enough for him. But he was never happy. He wanted everything; he would never be satisfied with anything less, even true love.
I want to learn from her mistakes without making them myself.
And even though I know Qibli thinks he's like Darkstalker, I see more of the dragon I still can't help thinking of as my friend—his dark side—in Winter.
His intentions are nobler than Darkstalker's, and I know he has a good heart, but Winter still lies, both to himself and to me. He tries to pretend he's something he isn't, so much that he might even convince himself sometimes.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I can't be with him.
After I learned that Darkstalker manipulated me so terribly, that he was secretly so awful beneath the surface, I've been insecure of all my own choices, my own beliefs. Everything was shaken. Everything collapsed, the way Agate Mountain did as Darkstalker burst free from his underground prison.
If you've never been betrayed this way by someone you love, you can't understand. Your faith in that dragon is not the only thing you lose. You also lose faith in yourself for believing all their lies, especially when, like me, you so fully believed they were truly sorry and fought so hard to defend them against dragons who "misunderstood".
I still haven't fully recovered from the realization that it was all a lie. I still ache inside and feel like I'm being ripped in two whenever I think of Darkstalker. I still haven't moved on, and it may be years before I finally do.
I have to keep believing I will eventually.
I've never admitted it before, but sometimes it feels impossible.
Unlike Clearsight, I can't look into the future whenever I want and find out if I'll be happy again one day. I just have to have faith anyway.
But because of Darkstalker's deception, I can't be with someone who lies to me, no matter how much Winter professes he loves me or how he'll try to be better. Darkstalker promised the same thing, again and again, but I'll never know if he really meant it.
I can't deal with that painful uncertainty again. I just can't.
Qibli has his own faults, and I won't pretend that he has a better heart than Winter does, but he has never lied to me. He not only loves me, but also respects me. As much as I care for Winter, I can't honestly say he does the same.
I don't know what I'll say to him the next time we talk. He thinks he needs to have a relationship with me to be happy. But I know I'd be happier without him.
Still, that doesn't mean I don't miss him.
My thoughts when it comes to him feel hopelessly mixed.
Then again, my feelings about most things are.
Along that train of thought, I still can't decide what to think of Peacemaker. He doesn't have Darkstalker's memories or his powers, and he looks like a RainWing hybrid instead of an IceWing one, but beneath it all he has the same heart.
When he grows up, will he lack empathy the way Darkstalker did? Will he still lie and manipulate others the way he did me? Will he still value other dragons only as pieces to arrange in the game he plays with the world?
And the most painful question, the one I feel guilty wondering: when he grows up and can think in words instead of only sensations and pictures, will his thoughts still have Darkstalker's voice as they echo in my mind?
I miss his voice. I miss the dragon I thought I knew.
The realization that taking away his mind-reading powers has closed our private communication forever was a painful one. Never again would we speak in the seclusion of my mind. Never again would we be able to touch one another's feelings and innermost thoughts. Never again would we have that mutual understanding.
He never really understood you, I must remind myself, time after time, as I mourn the loss of something I never really had. You only wanted him to.
When school first started, I used to crave isolation, protection from the cacophony of thoughts. Now I can't stand it.
I can't stand being away from other dragons and knowing that Darkstalker will never again find me in the silence. Knowing that Darkstalker no longer exists. Knowing that Darkstalker as I perceived him never existed at all.
It hurts. It always hurts.
I can't trust my memories. I can't trust my judgement. The only ones I know I can trust are my winglet, and half of them are scattered across the continent.
I wonder if we'll ever be together again.
I can't bear the thought that we won't.
I don't know if that's more because I miss them or because I wish I could turn back time and forget about what I've gained and lost within a manner of weeks.
Let go of the dream, Moon, I try to tell myself. You'll never get it back.
I dream of him in my sleep, too. The most painful part of those fantasies are that they're not anything special, just snatches of companionship with the dragon I will never be able to forget was my first friend. I feel the warm sensation of our minds overlapping, the way they did when I first arrived at Jade Mountain. Sometimes we don't even speak in those dreams, just sit side by side and watch the sunset over the desert hills in the distance; in others, we make lighthearted remarks to each other.
Whatever we're doing, it just feels so good to be with him again, until I inevitably wake up and remember that he's gone forever.
Those dreams always reopen the wounds in my heart.
I've never considered defeating Darkstalker a happy ending the way everyone else does. Pyrhhia is certainly better for it, but it's not a personal victory.
But I suppose it's not a sad ending, either.
It's not really an ending at all.
Because the end of a massive conflict, whether the outcome is good or bad, is never as definitive as it seems. We don't make peace and then live happily ever after. We get up every morning and live one day, and then another, and another.
I don't know if the future Darkstalker showed me when I first left Jade Mountain—the vision of a peaceful Pyrrhia—was real, or if it was another lie.
I have to hope that the vision was true, even if his reasons for showing it to me were manipulative instead of kind. With all the hatred and betrayal and grief in this world, a little hope goes a long way.
I don't have much faith left in anything, but I have faith that the future always has potential to be better than the past. Otherwise, what reason is there for the world to keep on turning, generation after generation?
One thing I know from being a seer is that there's always something to look forward to. There isn't any perfect future for us to stumble upon, but that's why we have visions—so that we can get around the worst paths and build our own good ones. Not the perfect future Darkstalker claimed to see, in which he enchanted everyone into being his puppets, but one in which as many dragons as possible work together for the good of all.
If I want to step up and shape that future, I can't let fear hold me back. I can't keep having these dreams, grieving a dragon who never really existed.
Look ahead, Moon, I tell myself as firmly as I can, whenever I wake up in the early morning silence and miss him with a hollow sense of grief. You have visions of the future, and Darkstalker isn't in any of them. He's only in the past now.
Maybe one day the thought will comfort me.
For now, I keep mourning my memories of no one.