Chapter 2: Wait
I begin to sob a river of happy tears, the emotion pouring over and out of me. I just can't comprehend the surrealness of what's going on. I'd been blind a few seconds ago, and now I could see everything. Oh, the color! I'd missed color for so long. All the color is overwhelming, and it's so beautiful my brain struggles to process it. But I don't really care; I'm just glad I can see again.
I run over to Turtle and hug him with all my might, getting my tears all over him. Turtle has a confused expression on his face. Expressions! I can see those again now. Expressions and body language are the key to every conversation. Every tap of a talon, every glance to the side, every little claw movement tells you something. Now, I could analyze every dragon's expression in every conversation that we have. I could note the tiniest, inaudible movement in a cheekbone that indicates a smile, or the antsy squirming of a dragon who is trying to stay still but can't. I could see those now. Losing one's vision may have unforeseen consequences, but so does getting it back.
It takes Turtle about 5 seconds to realize that I can see again. I can tell because his face lights up and he breaks about into an amazed grin. It takes 5 more seconds to realize that this means that he is an animus. I can tell because he squeals and lets go of me, trying to comprehend how much better his new life is going to be. His mouth is stretched in such a big grin you'd think there was a fruit stuck in it. He's laughing in amazement, and then so am I. Turtle comes back for another round of hugs, and I gladly oblige.
We stay like that for a bit, crying and laughing. We don't need words to express our happiness.
Turtle is the first to speak.
"You…you can see again."
If the truth of that statement hadn't registered with me already, it did now. This one little fact changed everything in my life.
"And you're an animus."
Turtle's grin grows even wider, if that's possible. My brain, being the analytical type that it is, wanted to begin to unpack what this meant for Pyrrhia. What would a royal Seawing animus be able to do? Should everyone know? What if they did? What if they didn't?
No, I said to my brain. I'll have plenty of time to do that later. For now, I'll celebrate getting my vision back and savor these fleeting moments of ecstasy.
"I'm an animus," said Turtle in awe of himself. He broke out into another fit of laughter, and so do I, because his laughter was just contagious.
"Is this actually happening?" stammered Turtle. "Am-am I dreaming?"
"You're not dreaming, Turtle," I assure him. "This is real."
We fall into another round of amazed crying and laughing, and it's just so much, and my body is at its emotional limit, filled with more emotion than it's ever been before –
"Where is everyone? We should tell them!"
Just like that, the happy-go-lucky part of my brain goes away and is replaced by the analytical part. And the analytic part panics.
"Wait!" I whisper-yell at Turtle, causing some of the few students in the room to turn their head at Turtle. Turtle, who was beginning to run towards the exit, stops and comes back towards me. I put my head down as fast as possible so everyone doesn't see that I don't have my bandana on. Whatever I am about to say, I am certain that I cannot have these eavesdroppers hear it. I feel like I have to whisper the best whisper I've ever whispered in my life right now. Their eyes are that penetrating.
We sit back down in the corner, but this time we sit close together. Now that I can see, I realize that we're right in the fiction section, Turtle's unofficial home. I go as much in the corner as possible, and Turtle acts as a living shield protecting me from the outside world by sitting on my right.
"Turtle, how are we going to explain all of this to everyone?" I whisper to Turtle as softly as I can.
Turtle pauses and thinks.
"Well, we can just tell them the truth. They'll believe us. They'll have no reason not to," Turtle states as if he has just solved a great mystery.
"Turtle, the truth is not that simple," I tell him. "Everything that is happening here is so unbelievable that they would never trust us again if we told them. We'd be kicked out of Jade Mountain and banished to live in the forest forever." Not the real reason, but the real reason would make Turtle feel like a pawn.
"Well, can't I just show them some of my animus magic?" asks Turtle. "To prove that I'm an animus?"
Wait, he wants them to know that he's an animus? Why? If I were a secret animus, I would keep my powers secret and then wait for the moment to strike. So why give away the secret and ruin the fun surprise? Then I remember: we're sitting in the fiction section.
"Turtle, you do not want the world knowing that you're an animus. Not yet. Trust me," I plead. "I know you want to be the hero in the story. I know you want to save everyone or do some cool magic tricks and have everyone love you."
As soon as I said "hero", Turtle immediately started paying rapt attention to my every word.
"But in the stories you've read - and you've read a lot of stories, I should know, I'm the librarian - does the hero always save the day right away?" I ask Turtle.
Turtle thinks and then knowingly shakes his head.
"No, they have to wait. Bide their time. Be patient. Patience is important, Turtle. It is not easily learned. But it can be instilled in a person through waiting. Waiting gives you patience. Do you know what else is important? Power. You're an animus now, Turtle. You have power surging through every muscle in your body. But power has its limits, Turtle. Not just physical limits, like animus magic, not just the sort of limits where you actually lose a part of yourself. No, there are imaginary limits, limits that don't exist but that you can never cross. The sort of limits that if you go beyond them you lose all your alliances and everything that makes you powerful. As the Nightwing Representative for Diplomatic Relations, I deal with power every day. Do you know what I've learned, Turtle? Power is like a tranquilizer gun with one dart in it. It's more threatening when you haven't used it yet, but once it's gone, you're done for. And tranquilizer guns are even better when you have it trained without your target even knowing. Because you can always shoot that dart. You always have the option. Power is best when it's unknown.
"Do you know what the only thing more powerful than a known animus is, Turtle?"
I pause for a second to let Turtle answer the question.
"An unknown animus," he answers back.
Maybe Turtle does have hope as a student after all.
"Good. You're beginning to understand. Trust me on this, Turtle. I was part of the group that stopped the war - I have plenty of experience in matters of power. I know that there will be a moment where you will use your magic, and it will be the last thing anyone expects to happen, and you will be glad, very glad, that you have surprise on your side. Then everyone will love you, Turtle. But only then. Remember, you have to be patient. Patience is the path to power."
I conclude my speech by going into an uncontrollable coughing spree.
Lame, I know, but my throat is really dry after talking that much. Wow, I have not gone on a rant like that in a looooooooong time. My throat is really out of shape. I need to drink some water as soon as I get a chance.
"Well, then, if we're not going to tell everyone that I'm an animus–" - he seemed a little sad when he said that - "then how are we going to explain how you got unblinded?"
That is a valid point that Turtle brings up. I have no clue what to do. Maybe we can think of something. We really need to think of something soon. We really need to think of something right now.
"Have you ever partaken in a brainstorming session, Turtle?" I ask him.
For most of the session, we just sit in silence, thinking. This isn't an easy problem to solve, and it's certainly not a problem either one of us have any experience in solving. Nightwing Representatives for Diplomatic Relations aren't supposed to be able to handle these types of situations. Yet still we sit, throwing out ideas into the open and hoping that one of them may actually be worth the effort that we put into speaking it into existence.
"What if an ancient animus dragon cast a spell years ago that unblinds all Nightwings on this day every year?"
"What if there's an urban legend where if a dragon says 'melon' ten times fast, they become unblinded?"
"What if you drank out of a magical water bottle and then accidentally spilled the rest of the magic water?"
"What if I say that my blindness was only temporary?"
"What if you caught a mysterious illness and one of its side effects was bringing your vision back?
"Turtle, that doesn't even begin to make sense. Why would an illness improve your health? That's the healers' job." Wait…Turtle has given me an idea, and it might be a good one.
"What if I drank a special healing potion?"
"A potion?" says Turtle.
"Yes…you still have that necklace, right?" I ask him.
"Yeah," says Turtle. "What about it?"
"Didn't you enchant it to 'heal the injuries of whomever it touches', or something?''
"Oh yeah, I think I did," remembers Turtle.
"That means it'll still work again, right? It still has its healing magic?"
"Probably," says Turtle.
"So what if…you found out the recipe for a special potion, a potion that could heal a dragon of all their injuries. But the potion could have really rare ingredients, ingredients so rare that there only exists enough of them in Pyrrhia to make one batch. You could go on a trip to find them, and then you could make a batch of potion. I was your test subject; I was the first person you tried the potion out on, to make sure it worked.
"And you could give a bunch of dragons the potion as medicine. It'll be a temporary healing business. And while you're giving them the potion, you could inconspicuously touch your necklace against them, and all their injuries would be gone, and everyone will think the potion's real. Your animus powers are kept secret, and my sudden ability to see gains an explanation. I think it's a pretty good idea. Do you like it, Turtle?"
I break out into another long coughing fit. My throat was already worn down by the previous rant, and even though this rant was smaller, it still hurts tremendously.
Turtle thinks the idea over for about 30 seconds.
"How long will this temporary business last?"
"Until the batch of potion runs out, I guess. Remember, we can always say that 'unfortunately, there aren't enough ingredients available to make another batch.'"
"But won't dragons just go get the ingredients themselves if they know what the recipe is?"
"So we make it so that they don't know what the ingredients are. We keep the recipe secret. We'll say we don't want it falling into the wrong hands."
Turtle smiles, having had all his problems with the plan solved.
"I'm in," Turtle declared.
"Good," I said. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You're going to tie this bandana back around my face, and you are going to make that knot extra tight. I am going to pretend to be blind for just a little bit longer. While I pretend to be completely the same as I was before, you will be out collecting the ingredients for this mysterious potion. You can just take a box with you, fly to a spot where no one important will notice you, and put a bunch of random things in the box. Then you could relax in the afternoon and come back in the evening with a box full of junk. Then, you can collect a bucket of water, put it in a fancy-looking cauldron, and voila, a potion. Do you understand, Turtle?"
My poor throat can't take it anymore, and I have what's definitely my worst coughing fit yet. Thankfully, we're in the corner, so no one's staring at me, though I bet everyone can hear me. I must sound very old to them.
"Yeah, go on a trip to put things in a box and collect a water bucket. I think I can do that," answers Turtle.
"Good," I manage to croak out. "Now go - we have a business to run."
