~Clearsight

It was painful to wait so long. Of course, it would be, if she could feel pain. She could remember what it felt like, but it never bothered her. After all, she was dead.

Clearsight waited in the remains of the school courtyard. The school was in greater disrepair than the castle was. Only small mounds of rubble stood were dragonets once went to learn. In a way, it broke Clearsight's heart.

Beside her was Fathom, the same as he's always been. Although he seemed more mature. Forgiving. Maybe even a little regretful. Clearsight wanted to ask him what happened when she left, apologize for never coming back. She couldn't speak, though, unless in front of Darkstalker. She had brought Whiteout, Indigo, and Fathom here through a series of inane gestures.

Whiteout stood on the far side of the courtyard, trying to draw in the smaller mounds of rubble. Most of the rubble was the size of pebbles. Although she was moving her talon through the debris, it didn't move. Clearsight felt sorry for her, or at least however much of the emotion 'sorry' she had.

Indigo was patrolling the perimeter, stalking like a bear. Clearsight had gestured for Indigo to relax—nothing could harm them like this—but Indigo had simply flicked her tail and continued stalking. She focused primarily on Fathom, but cared enough to also secondarily focus on Clearsight. Indigo payed no attention to Whiteout.

Finally, Clearsight heard footsteps. Knowing it was none of her ghostly companions, that left only two options: Darkstalker or Wolffish. She was pleased to see it was Darkstalker.

"He's here." Clearsight said. At first, her voice was quiet. When she repeated herself, she was loud enough for her companions to hear. Whiteout and Fathom stood by either one of Clearsight's sides, while Indigo walked over to Fathom, glaring at Darkstalker.

As Darkstalker came closer, Clearsight motioned for them to sit. Everyone but Indigo nodded and complied.

"What did you want to tell me?" Darkstalker asked. He sat down in front of Clearsight. A desire deep down inside her made her want to reach for his talon, but she knew that it was bittersweet. While she could feel emotions, it also brought her to hate him, if only a little. She would also, eventually, have to disappear, leaving her lifeless.

"I wanted to warn you." Clearsight said after snapping our of her reverie. "There's a dragon—an animus dragon—who wishes to see you dead."

Darkstalker looked shocked. Or maybe confused. Or both. "Are they that SeaWing that keeps popping up?"

"Yes." Clearsight said. She looked at Fathom, and nodded to him.

"His name is Wolffish. He's an animus who doesn't believe in the drawbacks." Fathom continued. "He saw you, when you were being enchanted. He made his own spell, having sensed how powerful you are—or how powerful you could be."

Whiteout spoke next. "He cast a spell that made it so then you were haunted by versions of those you loved and hated. We are those versions. You aren't talking to the real Clearsight, Fathom, Indigo, and Whiteout; they are all dead. Wolffish was cruel, creating the alternate versions with the knowledge that they are dead. We feel no emotion."

"You've probably noticed how our voices are sometimes different." Indigo said. "The emotion held in the voice depended on how well you remembered the person. For example, you'll be hearing spliced-emotion sentences from me, but everyone else with sound normal to you. Sometimes this is different."

Darkstalker remained silent. It was worrying. Or at least the equivalent to worrying.

"Wolffish needs to be stopped." Clearsight said, hoping to convince him to contribute. "He's extremely deadly, and near insanity. You retain your animus magic, but not your immortality or invulnerability. While this means you will die, sooner or later, the real Clearsight, Fathom, Indigo, and Whiteout would like it better if you died of age rather than bleeding."

Darkstalker nodded. "Okay. What do I need to do?"