Moon stood balanced by a cliff edge, watching the waves slosh against the weathered cliff-face below her. The waters were dark and thick, nothing like how she'd imagined it being, or how Darkstalker had described it. She unconsciously shuddered at the mention of his name, and focused her attention back to the ocean.
She examined the way the waves moved, like dark splotches of endless void overlapping and smoothing into each other. She wondered how Seawings could stand living somewhere so murky, or even how they moved in a liquid so viscous. Even the clay clouded ponds, and sheer, jagged, gullies of the Rainforest were much preferable to this shadowy mass in Moon's opinion. She herself had never learned to swim, the confined area her mother allowed her to traverse contained no body of water that came up higher than her knees, but even in her inexperienced opinion, she couldn't imagine movement in something so thick being either fast or efficient.
She peered into the dark waters, searching for movement under the surface. She'd yet to see any ocean wildlife, at least, any living ocean wildlife, and the idea excited her. In an environment so different, how did creatures look? Without the usual constraints of gravity, how big did they grow? Were they limited by gill size and the amount of oxygen such flimsy organs could produce? Did all of them even have gills, or have the same need for oxygen as any creature on land?
To her immense disappointment, no shapes materialised under the smooth, dark, surface. Perhaps there was less if any life on this section of coast, or maybe the water wasn't supposed to be like this and everything capable of movement had fled. She twisted her head from one side to the other, seeing nothing but inky ocean skirting every inch of coast. She peered out, across the horizon for any sign of something different. Yet, the horizon seemed determined to hide itself from her. The night sky was dark as the water, darker than she had ever seen it and absent of any of the stars, clouds and shining Moons that normally decorated it. It seemed to merge straight into the water, and the more she tried to focus on the spot where they split the more they seemed to blur and melt together
Perhaps that's what it was, the sky had fallen, dripping down and tainting the waves with the all-consuming void that made up the space beyond their planet. A cold, lonely, darkness devoid of life and warmth and touch. She shivered, inching back from the edge as a faint breeze began to pick up, tracing her scales like delicate talons nudging her towards the edge.
A sharp hiss sounded from behind her, and she turned, automatically moving to face the source of the noise. A wall of hulking white creatures stood between her and the row of tall, twisting, shapes she barely recognised as trees. Their pale forms billowed and coiled like smoke, curling around their jagged horns and spikes. The largest one at the centre of the pack broke off, snaking towards her as a hiss like boiling water escaped its maw.
Moon stepped back, keeping distance from the beast. It growled, glaring down at her with empty black eye sockets, lit in the centre by a piercing blue spark. The other creatures were watching her in much the same way, but none made to approach her.
The largest beast was now no more than a wing-length away, and something she would have called triumph on a dragon's face was shining in its eyes. The creature pointed at her, snarling something indecipherable, and when Moon looked down she realised she was holding the scroll. She hadn't remembered having it, but she held it protectively to her chest anyway, "N-no!" She stammered, reminders of what she'd seen in her nightmares flashing through her head.
Nightmares,
She snapped back into herself at another hiss. The creature was now only two talon-lengths away. It stared her down, breathing ice-cold smoke that flowed over her scales like wisps of cloud. It reached for the scroll, and Moon found herself unable to look away as two of its long, glittering claws barely tapped the scrollcase as it moved to grab it. Suddenly etchings on the leather began to glow, blindingly bright purple that stung her eyes to look at.
The creature began to scream, a wail so piercing Moon reflexively dropped to the ground, covering her ears with her wings in a desperate attempt to hamper it even slightly. It stumbled back, clutching its arm as the talon that made contact with the scroll began to fall away. Its arm followed shortly after, dropping to the ground and up into the air as though it were melting and evaporating simultaneously. The creatures behind it reacted, some moving to the larger one's side, others advancing on her, growling and snapping at her with snouts curled up into snarls.
Moon staggered away, conscious of the cliff edge she was nearing. The creatures continued their approach, spitting vile words of protest she'd never hope to understand. She tried to take another step, but her talon felt nothing but empty space below it and she quickly corrected herself, jerking it awkwardly back to the ground. Still, the creatures came, and she forced herself back, until her talons scraped together and her tail was balanced well over the edge in a vain attempt to stop her from falling.
One of the beasts lunged, and she startled, losing her footing and flaring her wings as she began to fall.
Her stomach lurched and before she had another moment to think she hit the water, diving down an indeterminate amount from the surface. The liquid was cold, cold enough for the shock of submerging in it to be almost enough for her to gasp for air. She battled the instinct down, but that did nothing to ease her panic. She tried to remember how she'd seen the Seawing students swimming back at Jade Mountain, though she knew well that attempting to swim in this situation would do her no good. Still she struggled, only sinking further and further into the dark sludge.
She kicked and beat her wings, digging desperately for purchase in the slick, oily, substance. It slipped between her claws and around her scales, sinking her deeper and deeper until even her faint sense of direction was lost and she couldn't tell which way down even was. She stopped moving, blinking a few times and trying to right herself. It was oppressively cold down this deep, and she could already feel her talons beginning to numb from the frigid substance. It pressed in from all sides, swaying her just barely this way and that in some frail current she could hardly sense.
She tried to look around for something, anything to tell her where she was, or where to go, but nothing but unfathomable darkness surrounded her. Rather interestingly, she could still see herself, though her usually colour tinted scales appeared much more washed out than she'd ever seen them.
The tight, creeping feeling of needing to breathe out muscled its way through her throat, but she managed barely to hold it back. Her body wanted desperately for her to expel the stale air that gathered in her lungs, but doing that would leave her without the only small remnants of oxygen she had left, only killing her brain quicker. Perhaps that would be a mercy.
She noted that she could no longer feel the current moving her, in fact, she couldn't feel anything at all; the ocean of heavy shadow that pressed in on her replaced by an eerie void of nothingness. The only part that remained was the cold, chilling her scales and sapping the heat from her core.
From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something, a flash of light, of warmth and sun and safety. As soon as it came it was gone, swallowed up by that all-consuming empty. She opened her mouth to cry out, to catch the attention of whoever or whatever that was, only to immediately feel an insidious press of cold begin snaking down her throat. Or rather, the absence of feeling left behind by its frigid tendrils as they trailed through her, eating away at the pitiful scrapings of warmth she still held.
She breathed out, attempting to force the cold from her lungs, but it did nothing to combat the void. Her brain screamed at her to breath in, yet she persisted, still hoping something would appear to save her.
From the dark so saviours appeared, and she could feel her consciousness quickly beginning to fade. She breathed in, a last-ditch effort to see if whatever she was surrounded by was somehow breathable. The cold air made her teeth ache, but did nothing to ease her rapidly increasing lightheadedness or fading vision.
Her body tried to shiver, but it was too weak for even that as she closed her eyes, curling in numb wings when-
Moon startled awake, immediately reaching for her throat while her brain caught up with her eyes. She took a slow breath, in and out, assuring herself she was truly where she was and not another nightmare. The sudden heat around her vastly contrasted the stinging chill of her dream, but it was certainly not unwelcome. She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, as pieces of last night's events began to slot back into place.
She glanced around, wary of the few unattended burning candles that still illuminated the inside of the hut. Rather curiously, they didn't seem to have burnt down any lower than they had been last night, and now she looked closer, no wax dripped down the length of them either. She looked away, probably nothing, a mere misremembrance.
She stood up, shaking sand grains from her wings. Peering through the cracks in the shutters, Moon figured she still had a few hours until sunrise. Not that that was overly helpful considering she didn't know when Sandwings woke up. She twisted, making sure-
Yes, Jerboa was still there, curled up on a rug in the corner. Her chest rose and fell evenly, but her breathing was ragged, as though great claws had been dragged down her insides. Moon stopped to consider that for a moment. How could that be possible? Her scales were so pristine on the outside, what could have possibly happened to her? The only option that came to mind was smoke, Qibli had said Sandwings in the scorpion den would smoke things he called "cigars" which damaged their throats. Surely that couldn't be the case here though, Qibli had said cigars had a very strong and distinct smell, that's why they were on the topic in the first place, Qibli had noticed the smell on Onyx and became suspicious of her story of never being to the scorpion den. Moon could smell no such thing here though, and given Jerboa was so far from any kind of civilisation, where would she even get a cigar from?
Perhaps she had been injured, in a fire or something of the like, and she'd used some kind of magic to heal herself. That would explain the unsplit sail, but that left the issue of Jerboa finding some kind of magic. She didn't exactly seem the type to be out and about meeting dragons, but, surely she couldn't be an animus herself. Sandwings had only one animus dragon throughout their history, during his time. Perhaps it was possible the gene was only being expressed now for the first time in thousands of years, but that didn't seem likely.
Still though, she had gotten that feeling of wrongness when she touched the floorboards-
Moon shook her head; a fascinating mystery for sure, but not one she had time to puzzle out, she reminded herself.
Moon rolled her shoulders, readying herself as she set a talon off her carpet and onto the creaking floorboards. She winced at the sound, and the unnatural thrum of magic working up through her arm. After a moment she took another step, then another, trying to balance her weight evenly to reduce the noise she made as she did so. It only took a few steps, and she was before the pile of rugs she'd seen the scroll buried within. She dug around inside of them, surprised by the roughness of the carpets' undersides until her claws met what they were looking for.
She dragged out the smooth leather scrollcase, clutching it to her chest as a surprisingly vivid wave of relief washed over her. The pulse of magic radiating from it was as unnerving as ever, but there was something about holding it so close, unreachable from others that was almost comforting. She slung it over her shoulder, the unsettling weight resting in the centre of her chest.
She slowly turned, edging towards the door with all her years experience of hiding from Rainforest predators. She was almost to the door, reaching for it with lightly shaking talons when-
"Moonwatcher." She whipped around, so startled by the sound of another voice she didn't even think to question the Sandwing's use of her real name. Jerboa was sitting on her rug, watching the Nightwing with calculating eyes. Moon swallowed hard, staring at her like a deer caught in dragon fire. "Where are you going at this time of night?"
"N-nowhere." Moon could do nothing to hold back the petrified stutter that shook through her words. The Sandwing didn't move, her accusatory glance falling to Moon's chest.
She knows, she knows she knows she knows
Moon trembled, inching back. The Sandwing held out her talons, palms up. "I'm not going to hurt you, but please, think about what you're doing."
That was exactly the opposite of what she was trying to do. She didn't think her heart could take trying to unravel the knot of visions and nightmares that crowded her mind whenever she thought about what she was going to do with the scroll. Surrendering the scroll to someone else wasn't a viable option though, if her visions had shown her anything it was that.
When Moon didn't acquiesce the Sandwing moved closer, crouching down so they could look eye to eye. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, but I don't think you understand the danger that scroll is putting all of us in."
Oh she understood, she understood better than anyone else did, excluding him.
Moon shook her head, pressing her back up against the ageing door as it creaked in protest. The Sandwing's brow furrowed, but she didn't move any closer. "Please, I want to help you. I can only do that if you let me."
She looked up, meeting the Sandwing's obsidian eyes. Even without being able to read her mind, Moon found no malice there. They looked surprisingly gentle, for eyes so alien to her own. That did little to ease her panic though, she knew well enough that looks could be deceiving.
After a moment of silence the Sandwing tried another step, offering a talon out to the petrified dragonet. Moon stared down at it, as a wave of fresh visions began to crowd her mind, spiralling off in more directions than she could ever possibly comprehend. She almost collapsed under the weight of them, forcing herself back and away, far from whatever the visions' source. She pushed harder as pained creaking rang in her ears. The Sandwing cried out something but Moon couldn't hear it, she just kept pushing and pushing and-
There was a sharp crack, and Moon fell back onto the sand, her head smacking off the ground sending stars blooming behind her eyes. The Sandwing hissed something under her breath, stepping out through the now empty doorframe. Moon scuttled a wing-length away, her clumsy talons spraying sand in all directions. Jerboa frowned down at her, with an expression Moon couldn't understand.
No time to understand, I've got to fly.
Moon scrambled up, unsteady wings spreading as she prepared to take flight. Jerboa didn't move to stop her, she just watched as Moon took to the air, twisting and disappearing into cloud cover towards the direction of the forest. Moon didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away from here, from the visions and the words and the doubt. The doubt was the worst part, twisting her stomach into knots as his words replayed in her head over and over.
"I just want to help you, but I can only do that if you let me."
He had wanted to help her. At least, that was what he had told her, on those cold lonely nights at Jade Mountain while she wandered the halls, unable to sleep. He had told her of all the worlds great injustices brought upon him, that would eventually be brought down on her if anyone discovered her powers without fearing her first. Now though, his punishment didn't seem quite so unfair.
The scroll knocked against her chest with every wing-beat. She cast it a glance, her brain ticking over the well-worn tracks of what to do about it. She wondered if she should try reading it again. On that night on Agate Mountain she had stopped reading once she found the section about his father, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what the other enchantments might entail.
The clouds below her were beginning to dissipate, and she could make out the shape of the pine forest approach. She'd have to move soon enough, now Jerboa knew where she was, but for tonight she decided she would be safe given how long it would take Jerboa to even find someone else to report her to.
Moon scanned the trees, searching for a reasonable resting spot. She didn't have time to be picky, the sun would be rising soon and being caught in daylight with scales like hers was practically asking to be captured.
A faint line of purple began edging the horizon, and watching it spread Moon felt a prickling sense of foreboding settle over her scales. Yes, she would have to find somewhere else to hide. She didn't have to time find somewhere else now, but she got the impression that tonight she would absolutely have to hide somewhere far from here