A/N: Sorry for the delay! I thought I'd have this chapter ready by the end of November, and here I am posting it nearly a month later. I wanted to make sure I was posting this chapter at its best, not rushing to get it out, and that meant waiting until I had a greater amount of free time to finish it up and polish it. It's still not perfect, but I'm feeling a lot better about it than I was, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Wings of Fire.

Chapter Twenty-One

WHAT? Carnelian's brain shouted. This enormous, terrifying dragon is Arctic's SON?

All around her, the others were having similar reactions. Asha gave a start, looking quickly between Arctic and the stranger as if trying to see some resemblance. Morrowseer's snout wrinkled in a sort of surprised distaste. Dune and Kestrel looked surprised, plain and simple.

Hvitur seemed thunderstruck, but Carnelian could see his brain putting pieces together. That's right, she recalled. When we first met Arctic, Hvitur did say something about him having a son. So he must know more than the rest of us. She looked back at the dragon in front of them. But how did he end up so big?

The stranger raised one talon to his temple. "Ouch. All of you are having so many loud thoughts at once that it's hard not to get a headache."

Carnelian furrowed her brow, confused for a moment, before she realized what he was insinuating. "Hold on a second!" she practically shouted. "I thought NightWings couldn't read minds. Wasn't it all a great big lie?"

The enormous dragon ducked down to look her in the eye, and Carnelian's heart almost jumped out of her chest. Don't panic, don't panic! she ordered herself. He doesn't seem like he's going to attack. He studied her for a second, then smiled as though she were amusing him.

"Calm down, little SkyWing," he said. "I come in peace." He glanced over at Arctic. "Mostly."

"U-um," Asha began, and for the first time since Carnelian had met her, she seemed genuinely nervous. I guess trying to talk to a dragon that size is daunting even for an optimist like her. "Can we start with introductions and work our way forward from there?"

The stranger turned his attention to the MudWing. "I think I've got all your names already," he said. "Let's see." He tapped his chin with one claw. "This funny little SkyWing is Carnelian. You're Asha." His gaze traveled across the group. "The suspicious-looking SkyWing over there is Kestrel. The three-legged dragon is Dune. That SeaWing over by the water is… Naiad. The IceWing that isn't my terrible father is Hvitur. This green dragonet who's doing an excellent job of making herself difficult to read is Orca. And this NightWing, who thinks he's much more dangerous than he is, is called Morrowseer." The stranger studied the much smaller dark dragon with a mixture of perplexity and amusement. "You are nothing like your daughter. I can hardly believe the two of you are related."

Morrowseer scowled. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't have a daughter. And you can drop the mind-reading charade. I don't know how you figured out our names, but I know the powers are all an illusion created by the tribe. You can't fool me."

"I don't know what kind of filthy lies the NightWings have been spewing since I died," Arctic said, "but I assure you, he's not faking it."

"My father is right," the stranger said. "I do indeed have the ability to read your minds. I can see the future, too. Which I could use to help you, incidentally, if you stopped being so mistrustful."

Carnelian rubbed her temples, trying to fight off the headache all these mind-blowing facts were producing. "Can we please go one step at a time? I can't keep up with all these plot-twists."

The enormous dragon sat down, shaking the ground in the process. Carnelian threw out her wings, trying to keep her balance. Up until this point, she'd been half-convinced that her eyes were playing tricks on her, and that the giant flickering stranger was just an illusion. But illusions couldn't make earthquakes that almost knocked you off your feet.

"All right," the pearly black dragon agreed. "We can do a little question-and-answer session, if that'll make you all less suspicious. I can hear in your thoughts that you have some way of verifying my answers. It's that lake over there, right?"

No one replied, all of them too startled to speak, but he continued as though they'd given him the answer. "Yes, that's why Naiad was sitting over there when I showed up." He smiled at the SeaWing. "You can join us over here. Really, it's safe. I promise I won't hurt anyone. Except maybe Arctic, but I'll save that for after this conversation. And I'll consider sparing him if he decides to admit that everything that went wrong in his life was no one's fault but his own."

"I will admit no such thing," Arctic hissed. "I made mistakes, yes, but I will never be the one to blame for the things you've done."

"Ah, but you're responsible for my birth," his son pointed out. "And if I'm evil, it's you who made me this way. So, let's try this again. Admit that you're the one to blame."

Arctic tensed, as if bracing himself for something. But one second passed, and then another… and nothing happened.

"What?" The enormous dragon seemed utterly caught off guard. He stared down at his father, his mind clearly working to figure something out. "I see… the spell was on your body. But what I see in front of me now… that must not be your physical form. You left that, along with the spell I placed on you, back in the real world."

He tilted his head slightly to one side. "So that must mean…" Without warning, he held up his palm and stabbed into it with one claw. Carnelian heard a muted gasp from off to her left (probably Asha) as a drop of bright red blood oozed out and trickled down the dark dragon's arm.

"Hm." The stranger studied the cut on his palm with something like disappointment. "I wonder if I could have worded the spell better."

"I'm very confused," Carnelian said, holding up both hands as if to ward off any new information until her brain had time to process what she'd already heard. "Can we start over? First of all, what is your name?"

"Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can answer that." The dark dragon offered her a charismatic smile, not unlike Orca's. "My name is Darkstalker. Like we've already established, that worm over there is my father. My mother is Foeslayer, who it seems you've already heard of."

"And you can really read our minds?" Asha asked tentatively.

"I can."

"I'm not sure I believe you're half IceWing," Morrowseer rumbled. "The tribe tells stories of the Darkstalker, but nowhere did I hear any mention of IceWing parentage."

Darkstalker lifted his wings, revealing a strip of ice-blue scales beneath each one. "See for yourself."

"If his appearance alone isn't enough to convince you, he got his animus magic from me," Arctic said. "So I know, however unfortunately, that he is my son."

Carnelian stared at the old IceWing. He's an animus? Why didn't he ever mention it?

"There's nothing here that I can enchant," Darkstalker said. "None of us have bodies, and there aren't any objects lying around for me to use. So I can't prove it to you. I suspect that's why my father never saw fit to tell you about his own powers." He glanced briefly at Orca, perhaps reading something of special interest in her mind. "Either that, or there was another reason to keep it a secret. I don't like spending any more time in his twisted mind than I have to, and I don't particularly care about the answer, so I won't be looking for it."

"Is it because of your animus magic that you look… the way you do?" Hvitur asked.

At first, Carnelian was puzzled. No, he looks the way he does because he's a hybrid. But then she looked at Darkstalker again and realized what the IceWing meant. He's talking about the weird flicker-y thing going on with his body. I'm not sure how that would be related to animus magic, though.

Fortunately, Darkstalker seemed to understand what Hvitur was getting at better than she did. "That would make sense, wouldn't it? If these forms aren't our bodies, they're probably our souls. But if I was all patchy from losing parts of my soul, Arctic would look just the same."

Arctic bared his teeth. "As bad as I was, you were worse."

"Let's not go pointing talons right now," Darkstalker said loftily, looking down on his father in more ways than one. "I'm busy answering questions. And I can see in your mind just how much you're aching to attack me, but I'm warning you, it won't end well for you. Even without my invulnerability, I'm still at least three times your size. I don't see any futures where you win."

That's right, he can see the future, too, Carnelian remembered. Among all the mind-blowing things she'd heard, that fact had slipped her mind. In addition to reading minds and being an animus. How many powers does this dragon have?

Darkstalker turned back to Hvitur. "There's a different reason I look like this," he said. "I didn't die, really. That wasn't possible, with the invulnerability and immortality spells I put on my body. So my body, at least, is still alive. It's simply been changed."

"What do you mean?" Hvitur asked, clearly confused.

The massive dragon sighed. "In addition to invulnerability and immortality, I made it so that the only magic that could affect me was my own. But a surprisingly clever little RainWing tricked me by using my own magic against me." He glanced at Arctic. "You remember that scroll I enchanted to house my powers, don't you?"

The IceWing grimaced, as though the words brought back painful memories.

"Of course you do." A faint smirk flickered across Darkstalker's face. "Most of it was destroyed, which transferred the magic back to me, but there were a few scraps left, and they retained their power, the way any animus-touched object does long after you enchant it. And Kinkajou wrote her own spell on it, one that took away my memories of who I was and transformed me into a little dragonet."

KINKAJOU? Carnelian's brain echoed in sheer disbelief. That RainWing from Jade Mountain Academy who wouldn't stop talking? It had been quite a while since she thought of the dragons she had left behind, but the name alone was enough to send floods of chatter echoing through her skull. SHE of all dragons managed to defeat the most enormous creature Pyrrhia has ever seen?

The spectacular explosion occurring in her mind seemed to attract Darkstalker's attention. He laughed with grim amusement. "So I'm not the only one here who knows who she is. Believe me, I was just as surprised as you are."

Hvitur's brow furrowed. "So being changed into someone else… sent you here?"

"Think about it," Darkstalker said. "I normally hate IceWings, but I'm willing to admit that you're uncommonly smart, so you should be able to follow my reasoning. There's a lot of things that go into making a dragon who they are: genes, the soul, if you believe in it. And perhaps the most important thing of all: memories. If different things had happened over the course of your lives, each one of you would be a different dragon than you are now. I've seen this play out countless times over many different branching futures.

"When a dragonet is born, they aren't really anyone yet. If this dragonet has a good life, supported by his family, he might turn out kind, and learn to be a doctor. But if no one supports him, and he gets bullied by another dragon in his class… he might become someone else, maybe someone angry and bitter who likes to see others suffer as much as he has. He might learn to be a thief, or an assassin.

"And that's only two out of countless possible lives this hypothetical dragonet could live. The reason he has the chance to become so many different people is because he's still a relatively blank slate. Yes, his genes do determine to some extent what he will be, which is why he isn't a completely blank slate. If he's a NightWing, he can't become a SeaWing queen, because his DNA dictates that he is not a SeaWing. One might argue that his DNA also dictates that he is not female, though others would say that it's more complicated than that. In any case, the genes we are born with determine how the world perceives us, and therefore how we interact with the world, shaping our experiences.

"Because the dragonet Kinkajou replaced me with shares my body, albeit reset to tiny little dragonet size and with a few genes swapped around and no powers, some dragons might still consider him me. But with no memories whatsoever, and a completely different world to live in… well, I don't think he's me at all. There are a lot of different people he could turn out to be, depending on how his life goes, but he can never live the life I had. He will never have to deal with Arctic. He won't have any magic. And he'll never meet Whiteout… or Clearsight."

Darkstalker paused. "You see where I'm going with this?"

"I think I understand," Hvitur said. "No matter who he turns out to be, he will never really be you. Too much is different. So even though your body lives on, the identity you had‒ the dragon everyone knew as Darkstalker‒ is gone."

"Exactly," the dark dragon agreed. "And the spell was specifically designed to be irreversible. If there was a chance my body could be changed back, and the real me could live again, I don't think I would be here. But thanks to the wording of the spell, it's impossible. So here I am, gone from the world of the living, but not here in the same sense as all of you are, the dragons who died true deaths."

Yikes, Carnelian thought, wincing. Way to rub it in.

"That was not my intention," Darkstalker said, seeming amused.

Carnelian's talons flew to her forehead. "I didn't‒ three moons, that's weird. Can you, like, maybe not reply to stuff I didn't say out loud?" Normally she'd be a bit more aggressive in her demands, especially when it came to defending her privacy, but she was far too overwhelmed by everything going on to feel anything but shock, and she doubted any threats or hostility would get her very far against such an enormous dragon anyway.

"All right," Darkstalker conceded. "I know at least a few of the others are grateful I haven't done that to them yet."

I wonder who in particular he's thinking of, Carnelian mused. But I'm not actually asking you, big dragon, so don't reply!

"If you don't mind my asking," Orca said, speaking for the first time since Darkstalker appeared, "how long has it been since you died? If you and Carnelian both know the same dragon, this Kinkajou, it must have been fairly recent."

"Yes," Darkstalker said. "I was born about two thousand years ago. But as I said, I put an immortality spell on myself, so I wouldn't have died naturally. That's why I'm so big and all of you look like little miniature figures to me. In all that time, I never stopped growing." He paused. "But yes, to answer your question, I did 'die' recently. I haven't been here long at all."

"He must have died‒ I mean, been transformed, after I was already gone," Carnelian said. "I never heard about him. And as far as I know, Kinkajou didn't have any heroic past when I met her. So any giant-dragon-stopping must have been done after my death." She paused for a moment, registering her own words. "Wait, what exactly was she stopping you from doing?"

Darkstalker waved his talons dismissively. "A little world domination, maybe some mind control. It's all in the past now, and I'm powerless anyway without anything to enchant, so you shouldn't worry about it."

Carnelian stared at him, digesting his words. Is he joking? I honestly can't tell.

They were all silent for a few moments.

"Well," Orca said at last, clasping her webbed talons together. "Carnelian, I think we've found the proof you were looking for."

The SkyWing dragonet gave her a quizzical look. What proof is she talking about?

"You asked how we could know for sure if the lake visions were right," Orca clarified. "If Darkstalker was still alive after you came here, he can tell us what's been going on in Pyrrhia since then."

Carnelian could have hugged her. "You're a genius."

Arctic, facing Darkstalker, seemed to be struggling with something. "What happened to your mother?" he asked eventually, practically spitting out the words through clenched teeth. Carnelian could tell it pained him to ask. "After you killed me."

He killed his own father? Carnelian stared at the two dragons in disbelief. No wonder there's so much bitterness between them. I would never be able to forgive my killer.

Except I do know who it is, actually. Sora, that quiet MudWing. But it was an accident. She didn't mean to do it. Is that something I can forgive her for?

Then Darkstalker answered, snapping Carnelian out of her thoughts. "That's complicated, actually," he said. "And I'm not sure you really deserve to know."

Arctic's jaws clenched even tighter. He took a deep breath, visibly forcing the tension out of his body. "Please," he said at last, and Carnelian could practically see him lose hold of every scrap of dignity he had left.

Darkstalker stared at his father. "I never thought I'd see the day when anything mattered to you more than your burning hatred for me."

Arctic refused to meet his gaze. "Just tell me."

"Diamond did take her," Darkstalker said after a heartbeat. "And she did kill her. But before she did, she enchanted her to freeze into a statue of ice the moment she died, waiting to be awoken again so that she could be killed over and over."

Arctic's talons twitched into fists, as though closing around an invisible enemy's throat. "That's horrible, even for my mother," he hissed. "I hope Diamond's here, so I can find her and rip her heart out."

"I'm sorry to kill your dreams of revenge, but I don't think she's here," Darkstalker said. "I can't see any futures where the two of you meet."

So not everyone comes here when they die, Carnelian mused. Or if they do, some find a way out. It was what they'd suspected all along, but now they finally had proof. Maybe those weird phrases we heard about finding a way out and being reborn aren't lies after all.

The fight seemed to leave Arctic entirely, and without it, he seemed as ancient as he really was. Seeing the fragile, broken creature in front of her, Carnelian felt an uncomfortable squirm of pity for him.

Darkstalker gazed at his father, his eyes unreadable. "One good thing did come out of that evil enchantment," he admitted. "My mother is still alive. And she's finally free."

The old IceWing's head shot up. "Really?" he croaked. "The visions weren't a lie? She really is all right?"

"Yes. I can see in your mind what you saw. It's all true."

Arctic's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And you're not lying to me now, just to spite me?"

Darkstalker sighed. "I guess I've decided, for once in my life, to be the better dragon. It's true."

The emotion in Arctic's face made a lump form unexpectedly in Carnelian's throat. Wow, he must really love his Foeslayer. I can't believe I'm feeling all mushy for this jerk.

Darkstalker shook his head, seeming both exasperated and amused. "Moon, you'd better be proud of me." He turned to Morrowseer. "What I said to you is also true. You have a daughter. You just never knew it because your mate kept her a secret from you."

Morrowseer seemed conflicted, caught between disbelief, dismay, and something Carnelian couldn't quite identify. "Prove it," he demanded.

"Her name is Moonwatcher," Darkstalker said. "I read your name in her mind. She knows that, but nothing else about you. If it's any comfort, she turned out quite all right without you."

I know her too, Carnelian registered. My little winglet has been getting into all sorts of adventures without me, haven't they?

Morrowseer's snout wrinkled up. Then he turned and headed toward the lake, moving in a daze like a sleepwalker.

"He'll see I'm telling the truth," said Darkstalker, watching him go.

Carnelian turned toward the massive dragon. Although what he'd said so far seemed to confirm everything they'd seen in the lake, she needed to know something with absolute certainty. "Is the story I heard Sunny telling really true?" she asked. "Did that MudWing Sora kill me by accident when she was trying to take out Icicle?"

"Oh, yes," he replied. "I can tell you that with one hundred percent confidence. I wasn't technically there when it happened, but I was near enough to hear every thought Sora had about the incident, and I saw it through Moon's eyes. That MudWing was very torn up about what she did to you and that other dragonet. Would have taken it back if she could." He half-shrugged. "That's the thing about actions. You can never take them back."

Exactly, Carnelian thought. She still wasn't sure how to feel about Sora. It was an accident that she felt horrible about, but that still doesn't undo it.

But I'm kind of happy here, aren't I? Where would I be now if I hadn't died? Where would these friends I've made be?

"Better give you all your answers, while I'm at it," Darkstalker muttered. He turned to Naiad. "Your son is perfectly fine. You don't need to worry about him so much. He's the leader of the Talons of Peace now, and there's a high chance he's going to do something great with his life. He has a girlfriend who is one of the most stubborn dragons in Pyrrhia. You can trust her to keep him safe."

Naiad blinked, taken aback. Then, slowly, her eyes began to fill with tears, and she buried her face in her webbed talons.

"Thorn and all your friends are doing well," Darkstalker said to Dune. "She's queen of the SandWings now, though I think you already know that. I've heard all about the Outclaws, including Six-Claws, in Qibli's mind." The mention of yet another of her old clawmates was not missed by Carnelian. "They're much safer than they were during the war. Seems like they're really making the desert a kinder kingdom. Mind you, there's probably a lot of bias in here, because the source of this information is Thorn's biggest fan who thinks she can do no wrong, but the point is they're safe and happy."

Dune nodded. "Thank you," he said. As usual, his tone was gruff, but Carnelian could see relief in the sudden lightness of his posture.

"Peril's doing well, too," Darkstalker told Kestrel. "She's remarkably silly, which doesn't seem like the type of thing you'd approve of, but she's not killing dragons anymore, and she's made a few friends. She finally learned that Scarlet wasn't good for her at all, to which I say, it's about time. Now she's finally thinking for herself."

Silly? That isn't how I'd describe Peril at all, Carnelian thought. Then again, I've done a lot of changing since the last time I saw her, so maybe she has too.

"I don't know about most of your family," the enormous dragon said, turning to Asha, "but your nephew Clay is doing well. He's happy with his motley group of friends at Jade Mountain. His sister Sora was in pretty bad shape, but I think she's turned onto a better path now."

They'd seen much of this in the lake's visions already, but there was a difference between seeing what was happening, trying to grasp what information they could without context, and hearing it all put into words by someone who actually understood what was happening. "Thank you so much," Asha said. She looked like she wanted to hug Darkstalker, but he was much too big for her to fit her wings around, so she settled for reaching up to squeeze his talons. "You have no idea how much this means to all of us."

Darkstalker smiled, and for once it looked genuine. "I understand a lot more than you think. Reading minds gives you a taste for exactly how other dragons are feeling."

He turned to Hvitur next. "There's not much for me to tell you, beyond what you already know. The war is over. Your tribe still exists, despite some… difficulties. They'll be okay."

Hvitur wrinkled up his snout, as though he wasn't sure how to feel about that. "What kind of difficulties?"

Darkstalker looked uncomfortable. "There was a… bad sickness, I guess you could say. Everyone's healthy again now, though. Nothing to worry about."

Hvitur still seemed suspicious, but he let it go.

"I don't have too much to tell you, either," Darkstalker said, addressing Orca. "Your sisters‒ Anemone, Tsunami, and Auklet‒ are doing some pretty exciting things. Your mother is a little bit more competent now that she no longer has Blister whispering in her ear, or so I've heard in the princesses' thoughts. None of that seems like it matters all that much to you, though. Hm… oh, you're wondering about your father, aren't you? He really is dead, I'm afraid."

Poor Orca, Carnelian couldn't help but sympathize. At least she knows for sure, though.

The giant dragon seemed to read an unspoken question in the SeaWing's brain. "Yes," he said. "It's a possibility. There are a lot of interesting possibilities in your future, now that I mention it." He tapped his chin thoughtfully with one claw. "If you do things right, you should be able to get what you want."

Carnelian looked between him and Orca. What is he talking about? What does Orca want?

"Only you can make your own choices," he said. "But for the record, I think you should tell her."

Tell who what? Curiosity wormed its way through Carnelian's brain, as nagging as a persistent itch.

"Well, that's everyone's most burning questions answered," Darkstalker said. If he heard the ones currently spiraling through the SkyWing dragonet's mind, he was clearly ignoring them. He studied all the gathered dragons' faces, and Carnelian followed his gaze, taking in the relief and gratitude in most of them. "I think I did a good job."

How humble, Carnelian thought, her snout wrinkling in amusement.

Darkstalker gazed off into the distance, and at first, she thought he was getting a vision of the future. But then she turned and saw what he was really looking at: the lake. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said. "I need a few answers of my own." The dark dragon set off for the water's edge. It didn't take him long to get there, considering how far a single stride could take someone of his size.

Morrowseer moved back reluctantly and Darkstalker took his place, peering down into the water. He murmured a few words; even from this distance, his face was big enough that Carnelian could clearly read the shapes his mouth formed. Show me him.

He wants to see how his new self is doing, Carnelian realized. Even without a name, she had a feeling the single pronoun carried enough weight that the lake's magic would know who he was talking about.

That must be incredibly weird, seeing someone who's kind of you and kind of not you at the same time. She tried to picture someone who looked just like her, just younger, walking around in Pyrrhia and being considered the same person as her. Someone whose choices she'd never get to make and whose life she would never live. Yeah, whoever that dragon is, she definitely wouldn't be me. But if she was real, not just a figment of my imagination, she'd definitely be someone.

Carnelian remembered how Darkstalker had referred to himself as "the real me" earlier, which implied that he didn't think of his replacement as a real dragon, just a shadow wearing his scales. But that was when the new dragonet was only an idea, not someone he'd ever met or even seen. I wonder if seeing him will change that.

She watched Darkstalker's expression as he watched the vision. At first, his face was difficult to read; then, slowly, something like wistfulness came over him. He smiled a little, but something in his eyes looked simultaneously fond and unbearably sad.

I wonder what he's seeing. But something like this is really private; no matter how curious I am, I'm not going to look.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Darkstalker stepped back, watching the image dissolve. It was more than just the vision that seemed to disappear in that moment. Some invisible presence that Carnelian couldn't name seemed to lift from the great dragon's shoulders, and without it weighing on his soul, he could finally breathe.

After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he returned to the group, beckoning Morroweer to follow him.

"It seems like Moon and her friends knew what they were talking about after all," he decided. "So I'm going to do what I know she would want. There's nothing left for me in this place. There's no future I can see where I meet Clearsight or Whiteout again; wherever they are, it isn't here. I suspect I won't be here much longer. But before I go, I can point you in the right direction.

"It seems like a few of you have pieces of something floating around in your minds," he said. "Lines of some kind of poem or riddle, though you may not know that's what they are. I suggest that you put them together and find the rest of it. I suspect it'll answer a lot of your questions."

Lines of a riddle? Something in Carnelian's mind clicked. Is that what those fragments of information the world gave me and Naiad and Arctic are?

"Secondly, there's a special place in this world that will be of great use to you if you find it," Darkstalker told them, moving on without giving the SkyWing much time to process the last thing he'd said. "Because this isn't a normal world, I can't tell you which way to go to get there. However, there is one dragon who can lead you to it. It's not one of you. So when you find the right dragon, don't turn them away by accident."

His form, already flickering, had begun to grow even more indistinct as he spoke. Now he barely looked solid at all.

"What's happening to you?" Arctic asked sharply, taking in the sight of him.

"I wasn't ever fully here," Darkstalker said, smiling ruefully. "I'm not really dead, even if I'm not really alive either. I'm… not really anything anymore. Now that my business is finished, I guess I can't keep holding on to this form. It's hard work keeping one metaphorical foot in this world, I'll have you know."

"So you're going to disappear?" Asha asked. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I can't see anything ahead past this point. Perhaps I'll be moving on to someplace else. Maybe I won't be going anywhere at all." He took a deep breath. "I've made my peace with it."

There was something final about the way he said the words, and Carnelian felt an unexpected pang of sorrow in her chest.

Asha stepped forward and squeezed his talons. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for us," she said, gratitude overflowing from every word. "We won't ever forget you."

Darkstalker offered her the ghost of a smile. "I'm glad to hear it."

As they watched, the enormous dragon grew less and less visible with every flicker. At last, with a deep breath, he closed his eyes and vanished completely, disappearing into the air like droplets of water on a summer day.

For a few moments, everyone was silent.

He's gone, Carnelian thought, watching Asha's talons close on vacant air. The world felt suddenly emptier. Really gone. Just like that.

The idea was somewhat surreal.

Arctic stared at the space where his son had been standing only moments before, seeming at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, only to close it again without saying anything.

"Are you all right?" Naiad asked tentatively.

The IceWing blinked. He shook his head, but whether it was an answer to the blue dragon's question or simply a manifestation of his disbelief was unclear.

"Is that how we leave this place?" Asha asked eventually, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, then went silent for another few moments, regathering the strength she needed to speak. "We just clear our consciences as much as possible and then let go? Has it been that simple all along?"

"I'm guessing it'll be a bit more complicated for us," Hvitur mused. "Darkstalker said he was only half here to begin with. Unlike him, we really died. So we're probably stuck here a bit more firmly."

Carnelian took a few moments to process what had just happened. A massive dragon most of them hadn't known existed had appeared, read their minds, answered all their unasked questions, revealed a hint of their futures, and then disappeared, all in quick succession. Most of them hadn't even had a chance to thank him before he was gone.

It felt so unreal that she almost thought she'd imagined the whole thing. The only thing that assured her it had really happened was seeing the stunned expressions he had left on all their faces in his wake.

That, and the clear impression that everything was starting to come together.

These strange phrases we've heard in the darkness… they're the pieces of a riddle that might give us all the answers we need. And we have a goal, a place to go to, if we can find the right dragon.

"All right guys," she said. "We've got a riddle to solve and a dragon to find. Let's get started."

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm sorry if any of you wanted Darkstalker to stay and join the group, but I think the story would become too much about him and lose its focus if I kept him around. Also, between his mindreading and future sight, there wouldn't be any mysteries left to solve! He was a lot of fun to write, though.

My spelling and grammar check doesn't want to work at the moment, so there might be a few errors I didn't catch. If you spot any, please let me know. (Also please tell me if I called Peacemaker by name at all, since I realized embarrassingly late that Darkstalker has no way of knowing what his name is.)

Additionally, there's a small chance I may have to come back and edit this chapter if I realize I forgot any of the information I needed to add, but at the moment I think I got everything.

Thanks again for every view, favorite, follow, and review! I'd love to hear any thoughts and feedback you have to offer. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

- Blaze