Author's Note

Before you start reading, I would like to tell you a few things.

One, this story is set around the sixth book, but in an alternate timeline where the Icicle Murders, as I'm calling them, never happen. There are also a few other important changes that get revealed later on.

Two, I'll be posting a chapter every other day. I'm not going to be one of those people who says, "I'm GoInG tO pOsT eVeRy DaY," and then doesn't post for a month. I can promise you this because I actually have the whole thing done. It's 16 chapters with around 35,000 words in total. Some chapters are shorter, some are longer than others, so if you ever get mad that a chapter is short, know that there will be a longer one to make up for it in the future.

Three, in case you didn't catch it from the plot description, would like to emphasize that THIS IS A DARK COMEDY. There are definitely a lot of elements of your normal drama, but there are also plenty of bursts of dark humor splattered. And even when the humor isn't dark, it's much more deadpan and cynical than in the books. So don't go into this expecting a normal read.

Fourth, know that there will be mature themes, including mental health, and occasional mentions of violence. The first few chapters are fine, but for chapters 8-11 specifically, I'd advise you to be strongly cautioned if you are under 12 years old. You have been warned.

Finally, and most importantly, have fun reading!

Chapter 1: Turtle's Tales

I liked to think of myself as an analytical dragon. I'd look around at a situation, who was in the room, and I'd run through the facts. In a millisecond, I'd remind myself of the backstory of every single dragon in the room without knowing it. I'd misguidedly calculate potential responses to things I could say; how every word could lead to a smile or a frown or a standing ovation. I wasn't impulsive like Tsunami or emotionally blinded like Glory, and I didn't let my kind nature get in the way of the greater good like Clay and Sunny did. I made decisions based on the facts I had, and this was the key to how I lived.

So one can imagine that it was hard when I became completely blind.

Not just because I couldn't see anymore, but because a lack of vision has an unforeseen amount of consequences. Your vision gives you a picture of what's going on everywhere you go. Now I have to rely on little pinpricks of noise and differences in textures to even understand the who, what, and where of my life. It's like a puzzle, only a bunch of the pieces are missing and your claws are tied up behind your back and you're being held hostage at spear-point. In other words, it's hard.

I'm not a complete failure, though. I am the first blind librarian in the history of Jade Mountain Academy. Then again, firsts in this place aren't very significant; Clay is the first teacher here to have survived a deadly viper bite; Tsunami is the first royal teacher here. These firsts are all obscure and insignificant. I just like to give these superlatives out as a joke, as a way to falsely increase my self-worth and temporarily provide a boost in happiness.

It makes sense that my desk would be disorganized because I'm blind. But I'm not your typical blind dragon. I have an innate ability to comprehend the size of something I touch or hold and I can deduce if it can fit into a certain space with an uncanny level of skill. As such, my desk is a neat arrangement of scrolls and lists.

I can have someone read to me, but I can't actually see the letters on the page for myself. Such a shame, because letters are some of the most underrated things in a dragon's life.

I am surrounded by scrolls, scrolls packed in on shelves all around me. This would make me happy if I was actually able to see the letters inside them myself. Letters, and the words they build, are one of the things in life that you cannot appreciate until you do not have them anymore. It's just not the same, having someone read you a word and a word and a word instead of letting your brain analyze what your eyes are seeing. It doesn't bring that same rush of adrenaline, and it doesn't immerse you into a world. Listening is a task; reading is a joy. I like to encourage everyone who comes into the library not to have someone read aloud to them unless it is absolutely necessary, as it is in my case.

Not many students come into the library. The dormitories are a much more popular space to hangout, and have turned into the central hub of Jade Mountain Academy. But sometimes students need a space where they can talk in private without any interruptions or risk of eavesdropping. So I give them my library as a sanctuary, and I let them talk without eavesdropping like a curmudgeon. I may value reading as one of the most important things in a dragon's life, but I think that personal happiness is also important. So I let the talking students talk, and I let the reading students read, even if the reading students are few and far between. Most times someone will take a quick peek at a scroll to get a random fact and leave. There are still voracious readers like me, though, that persist in their readings. Talking to these readers is what gives me happiness as a librarian. It makes me feel like I got dragons to read, even though they chose to read by their own free will.

Turtle is one of these free-willed readers. Turtle's a Seawing, apparently, one of Tsunami's many brothers. For all I know, though, he could just be Tsunami with a much deeper voice playing a prank on me. I can't rule out the possibility. Turtle will always ask me where the fiction section is and what fictional scrolls I recommend. I asked him once about nonfiction scrolls and why he never wanted to read those. He said that they didn't interest him and that history was boring. I told him that I found history fascinating, but he said that he just liked fiction and walked away as if he was forbidden to talk about nonfiction scrolls. Even though I've never laid eyes on him, I can tell that he's socially anxious. His words always come out forced and uncomfortable, as if he's not sure he knows what he's about to say. His tone of voice is subdued, and sometimes when I bring up a new topic he'll start talking quietly and leave soon after. That's his way of telling me that he's sick of talking with me and wants to read. I just feel bad for Turtle because there's no way that anyone who is that socially anxious has any friends. He seems even more socially anxious than me, and that's saying something.

Today I'm bored. No one's come in to say hello to me, not even Sunny. I figure they're all busy, so I hold no grudges and wait for someone to come in. I listen in on the conversations around the room, but there are none. It's quiet, uncomfortably so. I don't like it. I needed to talk with someone in the library. But who would I want to talk to?

Turtle. The enigma. I think he's one of the only ones here - this morning has been less busy than usual. He's reading a scroll I recommended to him about an orphan Seawing who ends up becoming a loyal soldier in the Queen's army. I guess he likes seeing himself represented in stories, just like I did. As a dragonet, I would seek out scrolls with Nightwings in them, and I would cherish the rare descriptions of a Nightwing character that I got. I even memorized their dialogue so that I could talk like them, kind and virtuous and noble. Dragons don't talk like they do in scrolls, though. If only.

"Turtle," I call out, getting up from my desk.

"What?" a voice calls from my right.

I stumble over towards the voice, tripping over a scroll that was left on the floor and running into a wall. But I'm blind, so it's not humiliating.

"Nothing. I'm just bored, and I need to talk. I figure you won't mind if I sit down next to you," I say.

"Sure," Turtle says.

I plop down next to him, or what I think is next to him. His voice seemed pretty close to me when he said sure, so I'm confident that I'm not on the other side of the room, which would be very awkward. I think we're in the very back of the room, the part where no one can hear us talking.

"How's the scroll?" I ask.

"It's really good," Turtle responds. "The main character's really cool."

"I knew you'd like him. He's a Seawing outcast, just like you. I figured you would relate."

"Outcast? Is that what I am?" Turtle asked me.

"Yeah, you're an outcast. Are you gonna say that you're not?" I responded.

"I guess I am an outcast," he said after a second. "You were right about the other part too. The part about relating to him. It does feel so good to see yourself shown in a scroll, even if you know that it's not real. You know? Even if you're disappointed when you don't get a happy ending in real life, at least you had fun while reading."

"As a fellow outcast, I get exactly what you mean."

I imagined Turtle smiling, excited to actually have a conversation with a fellow dragon for once in his life.

"You're not an outcast. You're one of the most popular dragons in the world. You're the official Nightwing Representative for Diplomatic Relations."

I smirk when I hear that title said in full, because it means absolutely nothing. Glory just made it up so that I could boss the other Nightwings around in all political matters. In the end, it's only another insignificant first, just like all the other firsts.

"You'd be surprised at how little the Nightwing Representative for Diplomatic Relations does," I retorted.

"But at least most dragons know who you are. I wish more dragons knew who I was," Turtle complained. "I should have more friends than I actually do."

"And I shouldn't be blind. But I am," I say.

"It sucks that you're blind," Turtle lamented.

"It's not that bad. Being deaf would be worse," I say truthfully. "When you're deaf you can't even talk with anyone. You don't just feel alone, you are alone."

"Still," says Turtle, "it must be really hard for you."

"It is," I say, stating the obvious.

"I always feel bad for you whenever I come here. You don't deserve to be blind. You were just trying to help everyone," says Turtle.

"Yeah, well, I just got unlucky, I guess," I say back.

There's a pause for a second before Turtle asks, "You remember the story about that animus in the scroll you recommended to me yesterday?"

What did I recommend to Turtle yesterday? Ah yes, Tales of the Deep. A collection of short stories about various Seawings. If I remember correctly, one had a Seawing animus as a supporting character. He gave the protagonist something for his journey. I don't remember what, though.

"He gave the hero a healing rock, and whoever it touched, all their injuries would go away," Turtle reminded me as if he was reading my mind. Maybe Turtle was actually a Nightwing in disguise. Again, I couldn't rule out the possibility.

I feel a necklace pressed against my claw. It's cold, and it feels like stone. Likely Turtle's necklace.

"If I were an animus, I would enchant this necklace to do the same thing as that necklace did; to heal the injuries of whomever it touches. Then you could see again."

"Turtle….that's so sweet," I sputter, tears forming in my eyes. I'm touched by his statement, touched beyond words. I can tell that he's telling the truth, and that there's a kind heart inside him. I don't think he's playing a prank anymore, because no prankster would ever say something that wholesome. For the first time, I want to be friends with one of the students. I truly believe that Turtle is a good dragon. I really do.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a pinprick of light.

Light?

Am I hallucinating?

No, this light looks real. It shines bright, as bright as the sun's rays. I remember light, but even in my memories it wasn't this realistic. It didn't have that same spark; that same shine.

And then more light comes in. More light. It's just a little more, but it's still more light. As I see the light flow in, I pinch myself, trying to wake myself up from this dream, because this must be a dream. But I'm still awake. I'm not asleep. This is all real.

An impossible thought begins to bubble inside me. I know it can't be true, after logically thinking over it for one second, but it's worth a try.

I quickly untie and flip off the bandana that covers my eyes.

And I'm blinded by light. It swarms me like an invading army, and I am helpless against its siege.

Then, the army of light retreats, and I see him.

I see him with my own two eyes.

Turtle the animus has just unblinded me.