A/N: I'm uncertain of how this squares up timeline wise. I'm fairly sure this can only take place within, like, a one month period.
Things were turbulent in Darkstalker's life, and the incessant crashing of the tide reflected that. Things could go well - they would go well, if Fathom would start being a little more agreeable and those earrings he gave Clearsight worked out - but no matter what it would take a lot of work to get to the ideal futures, where the streets of the Night Kingdom were paved with gold, all the rest of Pyrrhia under their permanent dominion.
And of course, Darkstalker himself would be at the head of this glorious empire, ruling infinitely wisely with the ample assistance of Clearsight. None would be above him - he would be not only a god descended, but king of the gods descended, ruling as much over the heavens as he ruled over the earth - everything there ever was under his control.
And he knew this future existed. He was more certain of that than anything - he never dedicated himself to divination, but it was plain as could be in his mind, shining as a golden ideal amongst the harsh realities he had to contend with. He could usually only see the most probable futures - so this one must not be far out of his grasp.
But for some reason, he sometimes saw glimpses of some... other event, when he was thinking about this bright future. It was something distant. He couldn't tell when it happened or will happen, he didn't know where it was, he didn't know what it represented for him, except for one thing: it would certainly be a threat to his ambitions.
He tried to brush it away - he'd heard from Clearsight that one of the skills a seer learns is how to tell prophecies from dreams, and this seemed so strange that it had to be some hallucination. It came back, though, and no dream Darkstalker'd ever had came back unless it was important.
Well, there was that one where he was trapped in some kind of cramped space and he couldn't see a thing, but that was years ago, when he was just starting school. It was probably a manifestation of sorts of his anxiety at the time, which tended to do with messing up irreversibly on some delicate matter and never being able to find a happy future. He was pretty sure now that that one wasn't important.
Regardless, he tried nevertheless just to ignore the visions he was having, trying to reason them away as the result of stress or maybe a very weird and very unprecedented attack from his father or grandmother, but he couldn't get them off his mind. Always, it was the same blurry scene, never any clearer.
A hill, adorned with a number of wooden crosses. On those crosses were a great many scavengers, brutally nailed to them by their paws and feet, like something a sadist would do for fun. The focus wasn't on the scene as a whole, though, but on one scavenger in particular, who wore a crown made of thorns. His cross was adorned with a sign on the top, written in a script Darkstalker could not at all understand, but which he knew the meaning behind anyway. It said, "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the World."
Another king of all the world. A challenger to his throne. A threat.
Darkstalker was certain that the vision contained these three things, though it only contained one thing that could answer to any of them: Jesus of Nazareth. He did not seem like a threat, though; even if he was somehow a powerful king who could challenge Darkstalker's hegemony over Pyrrhia, he was also a tiny scavenger who was too poor to afford a proper crown.
Most importantly, he was dead.
Even if it turned out that scavengers were hyper-intelligent and could find a way to challenge Darkstalker, and even if it turned out that Jesus was extremely rich and powerful, king of the greatest of whatever kingdoms scavengers had, he was still dead. If this was a vision of the future, then it was a foregone conclusion. Darkstalker would beat him and nail him to a cross, with that sign proclaiming him King of the World and the crown of thorns just being there to humiliate him.
If it was a vision of the past, which Darkstalker had never heard of, then he was dead already - it didn't look like anyone was coming for him, at least, and even if they did Darkstalker wasn't certain that it would help him any. It's not like he could just rise from the dead - even animus magic couldn't ressurect dragons. Maybe it worked differently on scavengers - maybe, for some strange reason, Fathom would bring this scavenger back from the dead? Jerboa? Probably best not to dwell on that.
If it was the future, it would probably be the recent future, since that was usually as far as Darkstalker's visions could reach. He wouldn't be styling himself King of the World anytime soon, though - he had conquering to do beforehand. It was so unclear, too, to the point of being unlike any other vision he'd ever had. He thought that maybe it was far away, and that was the reason, but even if it was that couldn't be the cause, because Darkstalker's visions of Fathom were fairly clear (as far as prophetic visions go), and he was on the other side of the continent. He was thrice-moonborn, damnit, he should be able to see into the future easier than this!
If it was the past... well, Darkstalker had no idea what to think. He'd never had a vision of the past before - nobody had, as far as he was aware. If that was the case, then... why? Why would the fates send him this knowledge, that a potential rival of his had perished? He had no context, no experience in anything related to this, and the simplest answer was to just dismiss it entirely.
Then, the only option was that it was a vision of the distant future, which isn't something that just came to Darkstalker randomly, but maybe this was special for some reason - at least this would also explain why it was so muddled. Thus, he called for Clearsight, who was much, much better at managing the future than he was, over to the beach to discuss the strange scene.
The waves continued coming onto the shore, the sound rhythmically repeating again and again, the same loud crash every couple of seconds; it started to annoy him. Right within his peripheral, almost directly above him, Darkstalker caught a glimpse of a black shape moving downwards. Clearsight, he identified it. He shifted around in the sand, his tail drawing a circle as he did, to watch her land.
She landed rather far away, and the star patterns under her wings were almost the only visible part of her, like she was a constellation descended. She was certainly as beautiful as such a thing would be.
"Hey!" Darkstalker called to her, eager to deal with the situation as quickly as possible. Answering him, Clearsight quickly flew over to where he sat, far closer to the shoreline. She looked like she was trying to hide her annoyance.
"Sorry," she apologised, "There was an interesting rock over there that I wanted to check out."
"Oh, my apologies for distracting you from that matter of such extreme importance," Darkstalker apologised, trying to sound as sincere as possible, "I'm sure that rock was a key factor in making sure we don't all die horribly."
Clearsight laughed, her wings relaxing. "Listen, when you spend as much time inside as I do, you start to forget what the typical 'interesting thing' is." Darkstalker gave a small chuckle, fitting for the slightly funny nature of the statement, and she leaned into him a moment. "Speaking of, I'm a little busy - am I here for any reason in specific or did you just want to meet with me?"
"No, no," Darkstalker corrected her. He took a hesitant breath before proceeding. "No, it's... I've been seeing this strange vision for a while, now, and I can't tell what it is or what it means."
"Strange vision?" Clearsight echoed. She pondered a moment, and Darkstalker felt her going through her copious library of future events. It made him feel unwell; he didn't know how Clearsight was able to stay so calm when she was the one experiencing it herself. "I've seen a lot of strange visions."
This was about the answer Darkstalker had expected. "Well, it's-"
"I think I know the one you mean, though," Clearsight continued. What? Darkstalker asked himself. It wasn't that strange for both himself and an accomplished seer to be able to predict the same event, but it felt oddly... personal - like it was something that concerned only him, that she shouldn't be cognisant of.
"Well, there's these crosses..." he began, trying to make sure she was in fact referring to the same vision.
"And the tortured scavengers, yes," Clearsight finished for him, indeed confirming their similarity. "That one's always a pain. I can never slot it into any timelines and I have no idea what it has to do with us..."
That knowledge was Darkstalker's alone, apparently.
"...I just ignore it when it comes up, most of the time," she finished. Darkstalker looked into her mind, trying to make absolute sure that this was, in fact, the same vision. It looked about the same, but there was something off. It was hard to see, of course, due to the fact he was viewing it through the distorted lens of mind-reading, but eventually he did find a discrepancy. The sign.
Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.
"The J-" Darkstalker almost said. He coughed, pretending his previous words were only a sputter. "Excuse me," he said, "There was a sign..." He tried to think of how to lead into the difference. "...I don't remember what it said anymore. Do you?"
"Jesus, King of the Jews," Clearsight said almost immediately. She sighed in frustration. "Unfortunately, I don't know what 'the Jews' are or why scavengers would have a king."
Darkstalker feigned puzzlement, his genuine confusion adding to the act. "I remember what it said, now, and it wasn't that."
"What? You mean you saw something different?" Clearsight asked, speaking quickly, "A different timeline?"
"No, not that," Darkstalker answered. Maybe that. "But, uh..." Maybe that, indeed. Well, I won't go back on my word yet. "But the sign said 'Jesus, King of the World' instead."
"King of the World?" Clearsight wondered, "Like a god? A scavenger god?"
Gods, scavenger or otherwise, don't die, Darkstalker thought angrily. "Maybe," he voiced more mildly, "but it leaves me wondering what it has to do with me." He stopped a moment. "Perhaps, if I'm King-"
"I've told you not to think about those futures," Clearsight chided him, though she was careful not to shut him down completely.
"Alright, that's a little presumptuous," Darkstalker acquiesced temporarily, "but whoever's Queen, or King, or whatever, isn't this King of the World a threat to their independence?"
"I think it's figurative," Clearsight said, "They're not literally a king. They're, like, a god."
"You believe that a scavenger can be a god?" Darkstalker half-jokingly and very much incredulously asked. A scavenger is not above me, he added internally, the jesting attitude having disappeared.
"Well, no! I mean..." Clearsight ran the question over again, "Are you sure you saw 'King of the World?' It makes way more sense if he's King of the Jews, whatever that means."
Darkstalker tried to think of a way to reintroduce the idea of a "King of the World" being a threat to him as King of the NightWings, but he was coming up short. Maybe I should've done something a little bit more to that earring, he deliberated, Actually, probably not. She'd've found out by now, or something.
The earring, he realised.
It is another timeline. She can't see it because of the enchantment on her earring.
"King of the Jews," Darkstalker muttered, the only element of this train of thought he voiced.
How can I convince her to take the earring off without revealing it? Should I knock it off accidentally, or something? Darkstalker's mind was ablaze at this moment, trying to resolve this strategic element with the current and unfortunate situation, No, removing it at all would make her realise immediately what I did!
Darkstalker took a breath. He had confirmation now, at least, that it was the future and that this event could somehow be changed. He had absolutely no clue how to change it, but the fact of the matter remained that Jesus being King of the World was not an immutable fact. We can cross this bridge when we come to it, he reassured himself, for now, keep the earring on.
"Are you alright?" Clearsight checked in, breaking Darkstalker's line of thought.
"Oh, yeah, I..." Darkstalker replied, still somewhat distracted, "Just a little bit sick, is all."
"Are you sure?" Clearsight pressed, "You're breathing heavy."
He was breathing heavy; he hadn't noticed while he was caught up in his internal monologue. "No, I'm alright," he insisted. He shot another glance at the earring, and thought about the shortsightedness it represented. Oh, Clearsight... he thought wistfully. He started thinking again about the ideal futures, the futures which Jesus was a threat to, which she just didn't seem to understand.
He could envision it so clearly. A happy family. Happy with each other's company and with the infinite riches of the continent that were at their disposal. A mosaic, depicting them all together, beautifully crafted, looked upon by all, the high and the low, god, dragon, and scavenger alike, as the finest, most glorious art that ever was made.
A hill.
A joke, a continuing joke, began by a daughter of his and having proliferated from there, being told in every circumstance it could possibly be mangled into - a tangible symbol of familial bond. A playful argument - this one had no vaguities about it, for it had already begun - about that daughter's name, continuing even after she was born, that he eventually won, one of many daily small triumphs.
A cross.
A war, paradoxically unbloody. They all disappear - all of them, at once, in the night. A triumph, a real triumph, not the figurative kind, for this wondrous feat. Personal, private celebrations with the family aforementioned. Prestige. A great victory. His mother, alive.
A king.
Darkstalker was becoming a little frustrated with the vision's intrusion on his dream of waking life, if that turn of phrase makes sense. It was fine. He just had to think about the future harder.
A traitor. Not that other traitor. He'd die before all this, in some entertaining way. An unrelated traitor - unrelated by blood or affiliation, but still slightly similar. A fearmonger. A fool. But a fool no longer. A friend, now. A friend, at any cost.
A sign - but not the same sign.
A totem. A priest. A rebel. Someone who did not believe in his King's true divinity - a threat to the grand happiness thus far detailed, the mosaic, the joke, the friend. A worshiper of a lesser god. A dead dragon walking.
"God the Son," it said.
A festival. A judgement. A reshaping of the land, the sea, the sky, as the King saw fit. Divine rule.
A god, greater than Darkstalker, even as he hangs dying, suffering.
A future unattainable, for none are greater than God.
"...No!" Darkstalker snapped, enraged by this encroachment of such a puny being on his almighty authority, "I will be King of the World, not this Jesus of Nazareth!"
"...What?" Clearsight retracted herself a small bit. She looked confused, but not especially by Darkstalker's words; moreso by the situation as a whole. I...this coming... were the only pieces of her thoughts Darkstalker could make out in his rage.
"I will-" Darkstalker struggled for the words to describe his hate for Jesus, "I am..."
He looked at Clearsight, and it was quite evident that she had no idea what he was doing. He'd need to explain it to her, of course, but how? She was never too receptive when he talked about kingship and glory before. Well, he'd have to try.
"Clearsight," he addressed her, attempting to read her mind and gauge her reaction but in the end just mashing their thoughts together and making himself feel a little sick, "We deserve happiness. We deserve to be free, to triumph!" He hit the sand with his tail. "But this 'god,' if you can call him that, is intent on destroying us, on subjugating us to his terrible will!"
"He's just a scavenger! Where are you getting this idea?" Clearsight retorted, though that is quite the strong word to use to refer to someone who did not view this as a discourse at all.
"He thinks himself superior to me! To me!" Darkstalker replied, in no way answering her question, "What a joke! I am the most powerful dragon there ever was, and he thinks he can stop me just because he has a sign over his head saying he's better?"
Clearsight stayed silent, looking concernedly downwards, going through various facts and assumptions in her mind. What is he on about? she wondered, Oh, don't tell me...
"You don't understand!" Darkstalker continued, "He will destroy us both! He will control us, when we should be controlling him! The whole world is our rightful dominion, and he is a threat to that!"
"You don't change, do you!?" Clearsight yelled angrily, backing away from her companion yet further, "You're not a god, and if you keep thinking yourself that you're never going to be happy!"
"I will be happy!" Darkstalker asserted.
With or without you, if you're going to take his side.
"And.. and..."
I am her superior, as well.
"And you will stop TAUNTING ME!" Darkstalker continued, arising and spitting at the tide.
"Three moons..." Clearsight sighed. She arose as well, but her head and wings continued to hang. "I don't have to look into the future to know that these ambitions will be the death of you! You are only so much, dear; we are only so much."
Even though he was profoundly out of himself, Darkstalker still managed to be impressed with Clearsight's restraint not to just walk off or insult him. Regardless, she still could not see the golden future!
"You think that," he turned to his lover, "but-"
Crash!
Darkstalker whipped his head back towards the shoreline. The waves were still coming up, the tide slowly rising, the sound still repeating. They were getting louder. More grating on his ears.
Would the King of the World allow such a thing?
"Waves!" he cried, "Stop moving!"
The waves obeyed.
"Do you see?" He turned back to Clearsight very quickly, almost desperately. "I am like a god already, and I will not be insulted by this animal!"
"You would..." Clearsight was lost for words. "I'm not Fathom. I don't believe that using your magic makes you evil automatically. But you would use your magic so frivolously as to stop the tide from coming up?"
It was only then that Darkstalker realised that he was in a bit of trouble.
He started to process what Clearsight had been saying to him, and it came up that ranting about your supremacy over the world in front of someone who never in any context wants to see you supreme over the world was a bad idea.
I need to think of a way out of this. Fast.
He was already stumbling around a little, so that was a good base to work off of. "What?" he half-muttered as his claws imprinted on the sand. He looked over at the waves, frozen in time, and tried to feign surprise. "Great kingdoms!" he swore, "Waves, move again!"
The waves obeyed, and the resulting crash was still a little annoying, even if it was no longer an insult to his authority.
"I don't... remember doing that at all." Darkstalker touched a talon to his head and tried to ground himself. That part wasn't an act - he really was a little dizzy. "Did I... did I do anything else?" he asked, maybe taking a bit of a risk.
"You got really mad and started saying you were King of the World," Clearsight answered straightly. Her directness was a mostly motivated by concern, but there was a small part of her that knew her lover was lying to her.
"Oh... what?" Darkstalker clenched his teeth in an attempt to somehow trick his body into feeling fear, "I think... I think this sickness is worse than I realised." This is a terrible act, he believed, Unless that earring's working overtime, there's no way she'll believe that I'm the cowardly, humble dragon she thought I was.
"Mm," she intoned seriously. She came back to her counterpart, lying back down on the sand scarred with the remains of the fight. I still don't know why I couldn't foresee this, she thought, This outburst, this sickness at all... Do I just not want to believe that this side of him exists? "Sorry to hear. I'll keep you company," she offered, voicing no part of her internal distress.
"Oh, no, thank you," Darkstalker refused. He tried to imitate his earlier heavy breathing. "No, you're busy. Some time alone would do me good anyway."
"I'm not so busy that-"
"Thank you," Darkstalker voiced more sternly, "But I'm fine."
Clearsight looked briefly offended, but forced herself back into a smile. "Alright," she agreed. She got back up and brushed her wing against Darkstalker's. "Let me know if you need anything, though. I don't want to see you like this again."
If things keep turning up wrong for me, you will, Darkstalker lamented.
"Love you!" she called as she began to depart, though it was less sincere than it would have been prior to this encounter.
"You too!" Darkstalker answered. Lucky thing I was able to get out of that one, he thought. He wiped an imaginary bead of sweat off his forehead, and exhaled a long held breath.
He sat back down on the sand, watching the tide roll in, and continued to be annoyed with the sound of the waves. At last, when he was sure no one else was in earshot, he turned to the sky. To Jesus of Nazareth, if he really was a god.
"Jesus," Darkstalker shouted, "if you can hear me, I will nail you to that cross again, and again, and again!"
A/N: These have been fairly short, but I'm working on something that's (relatively) longer.
A/N: I read, like, 75% of Darkstalker in an afternoon, and then immediately started writing this, and that was the worst experience of my life. Media was not meant to be consumed this way.
A/N: Returning to the timeline thing, perhaps I should have set this at a later point. Maybe not. This is the most contentious (with myself) thing I've yet written, as again I only finished reading this book ~25 hours ago as of the time of this writing.
