Even five years on following her visit to the Diamond Caves, she was hesitant to return, after Foeslayer's stunt which ended their conversation. She had struggled not to scream at the realisation she was in fact, surrounded by frozen Icewing corpses, running back to the palace with her tail between her legs. But then, came the day her mother died.
It had not been unexpected. Fractal's sister, Tern, had always desired to be Queen. Tern was younger, smaller, a weaker negotiator. She did however, have one notable thing on her sister, fighting ability. There had been no conflicts in the Ice kingdom during Glacier's lifetime, but there had been one shortly before she hatched. Fractal had not fought in that war. Tern had, and the tribe respected her more for it. They viewed Fractal's ability to compromise and avoid conflicts as a weakness, rather than the strength Glacier understood it to be. Perhaps if the war had gone on longer, been more widespread, they would've understood the true devastation war is apt to leave in its wake, yet it had not, and they championed Tern's hastily chosen decisions and hardheadedness like a battle cry.
Part of Glacier though had still believed the challenge would never arrive, her mother was the Queen and would be that way for decades to come. Fate had no care for what Glacier believed was possible however, and the challenge had been given shortly following negotiations with the Skywings, where Fractal had acquiesced and given them slightly more favourable trail deals to avoid retaliation from one of the Skywing Queen's younger, particularly trigger happy daughters
Glacier had no wish to attend the challenge, but she was aware of the weakness her tribe would see in her if she didn't at least make an appearance, and Glacier wasn't keen on falling into the same trap her mother had.
Standing in the throne room, packed wall to wall with dragons, she had done everything in her power to avoid looking directly at the combatants as they fought. She focused on the crowd, watching as their expressions shifted with each slash and bite and kick. She flinched as a great thud rang out around the hall as one of the sisters crashed to the ground, roaring with a crazed agony Glacier had never heard before, and hoped to never hear again.
Glacier couldn't watch anymore, but she couldn't leave, she didn't need her tribe believing her as well as her mother to be cowards. She blurred her vision, focusing on her thoughts until the shrieks and roars of the battling dragons and the cries of dismay and delight from the crowd blended in an indecipherable chorus of noise. She thought about everything she'd have to do today, how she'd soon be leaving on a diplomatic trip to the Sand Kingdom, the first time she'd be over the wall.
A sound like icicles snapping, and a booming thud, and the room went still. Glacier blinked, snapping out of her stupor. What had-
The crowd around her erupted in cheers, and Glacier was lost in the crush of dragons rushing forward to meet their new Queen. Some didn't, more than she'd expected, swiftly left the hall, hiding disapproving or devastated expressions.
Glacier waited for the crowd to disperse, stepping past the few retreating dragons. She tried valiantly to ignore what reminded her of her mother, and the blood-stained talon prints spotting her bruised underscales, suggesting she'd been stepped on by the crowd.
Tern fixed cold blue eyes on her, suspicion radiating from every spike.
Glacier bowed deeply, the way she'd always been taught to, "Congratulations, your majesty," this close, Glacier could clearly see the gashes and frost-breath patches that covered Tern's scales. She was surprised the new Queen was able to maintain as much composure as she currently did, although that was doubtless more due to temperament than her current amount of pain.
Tern nodded to her, making a noise somewhere between a hum and a grunt, and swept out of the hall along with several guards. She twisted to meet Glacier's eye just before leaving, "Clean this mess up."
Glacier paused, watching the door swing softly closed. She wasn't alone, several palace attendants remained, already beginning to mop away the blue stains. And she was supposed to help-
She looked down, her eyes barely glancing at her mother's familiar scales before her eyes began to burn. She couldn't cry, not in front of these dragons, but she wasn't sure how long she could stop herself.
One of the servants closest to her glanced between her and the old Queen, shaking his head. He flicked his wing towards the door, "We'll handle it."
She didn't have to be told twice. Glacier hurried out of the hall, disappearing into the closest empty room. It was a servants' stairwell, tight and compact. She curled up by the door, letting the hot tears that had been threatening to fall spill down her face. Her voice hitched as she sobbed, trying to keep herself quiet enough to not be discovered.
She stayed like that for what felt like hours, until long after her tears had dried and her irritated eyes had lost their blue hue. The sadness had dissipated to a cold, ever-present numbness, revealing another emotion buried underneath.
Pure concentrated fury.
She would avenge her mother, she was certain of it. What she was less certain of was how. She had never been a particularly talented fighter, at least by her tribe's standards. And she was well are taking particular interest in fighting so soon after Tern's taking of the throne was likely to catch her aunt's attention. She'd considered just challenging as soon as the customary week-long grace period was over, while the injuries Tern had sustained were still fresh. Not all of them would be, the Gift of Healing would remove any frost-breath-
Then an idea. There was someone who could teach her to fight without arising suspicions. She was not the ideal option, but what else could she do?
The Diamond caves were as empty and unwelcoming as ever, but Glacier pushed past her hesitancy as she charged into the tunnels, spear gripped tight enough to leach the blue from her knuckles.
Would anyone notice that she was gone? Would anyone care?
Depends how paranoid my Aunt is feeling.
Not that she saw Glacier as much of a threat, not yet anyway. She didn't spend nearly as long wandering the caves this time around, following the vaguely familiar path of her three-year-old self until the cave opened up around her.
She moved quickly past the frozen dragonets, forcing herself to ignore the spine-crawling feeling being near them made her. In the centre of the cave stood Foeslayer, not a scale from the exact pose Glacier had last seen her six years ago. The Icewing faltered, stopping to stare up at the large Nightwing as an unusual feeling struck her.
How odd it must be for her, waking up in the present with no grasp of how long she's been gone. Will she recognise me? Will she've expected me to be long buried like every other Icewing she's met?
With that morbid thought, she prodded the frozen Nightwing, stepping back to allow the ice to splinter and fall away in billowing clouds of white and silver dust. Foeslayer dropped to the ground, though she had substantially less far to fall this time, shaking herself to knock loose the last of the ice. Her gaze fell on the Icewing before her, and after a quick glance around confirming no one else was present, looked to her puzzled.
"Hello?" She tried, before recognition sparked in her eyes, "Wait, Glacier? Is that you?" The Icewing tried to nod in the affirmative when Foeslayer interrupted her, "Oh, of course, Princess Glacier, my apologies." She held up her talons in a much too self-satisfied manner.
Life in the Icewing aristocracy had long since accustomed her to smoothing over her anger, but it was still a challenge to stop herself from snapping at the Nightwing given her current mood. She breathed out slowly, reminding herself she had more important tasks at talon. "I have an offer for you."
"An offer?" That certainly caught her attention, "You mean..." she spread her wings, gesturing around them.
"Yes, I'll let you out of here, if you help me first."
Foeslayer's emerald eyes were shining. She sat back on her haunches, flicking her tail as she rested it lightly on her talons, "I'm not too sure what I'm currently able to help you with, what exactly did you have in mind?"
"Teach me how to fight." She kept her words quick and commanding, not allowing a drop of weakness to seep in. A lesson she'd learnt young in her dragonet-hood rang in her head,
If I'm intimidating enough she'll do what I want.
Given the dramatic size difference between the two, she doubted she was capable of intimidating the older dragoness, but she gave it her best effort anyway.
Foeslayer smirked, "What, are your ever so special Icewing trainers not good enough?"
Glacier raised the spear, "Do you want me to leave you down here?"
Foeslayer reached out, touching the tip of the spear lightly with one claw and pressing it downwards to it wasn't directly aimed at her, "Okay, okay, I get your point." Her eyes dropped to the spearhead, and she smiled softly as if thinking to herself about how terribly funny she was.
Glacier cleared her throat and Foeslayer looked back up, as though she'd almost forgotten what they were talking about.
"Alright, I accept your offer. I'll help you with fighting and you'll-" she reached out an ebony talon, pulling it back slightly as she stopped herself, "When did you say you'd be letting me out of here?"
"Once I'm Queen."
"Ah." Foeslayer's brows lifted as though she finally understood what was being asked of her. She held out her talon, and Glacier took it, shaking once. "So it would be in my best interest to train you properly to kill a Queen?"
"Yes."
"Alright, I can do that."
Immediately after waking, Glacier needed a moment to orient herself.
Hadn't she just been somewhere else? Wasn't it the middle of the night? Why then, where the soft orange hues of early morning spilling into her mother's old room-
She growled, forcing herself to standing while she shook off any lingering fragments of sleep. Another night, another dream, though not entirely nightmares this time, which was a small mercy. She frowned, sitting up and stretching the sleep from her muscles. Why was she having these dreams? And why now? She had a guess, even if her conscious mind wouldn't let her think it. She felt bad about never settling Foeslayer free, the guilt was-
I'm not guilty.
She almost hissed aloud, furious with herself.
The sun was trailing slowly past the mountainous horizon, craggy peaks giving way to warm golden streams that painted the palace a burning amber. Her recent dreams weren't usually considerate enough to wake her so close to dawn. She knew her lack of sleep had been affecting her ability to perform her duties with a clear mind, but she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do about that. She supposed she could wait, to let it blow over until her subconscious was focused on other matters over this Nightwing nonsense. She felt that unlikely, given the near-daily updates she was getting from Jerboa about that missing Nightwing dragoness.
Jerboa had a scroll that, supposedly, would answer truthfully any question asked of it. When Jerboa had first suggested using it to ease Glacier's mind about the Nightwing possibly using it to cause havoc, Glacier had tried asking it "What is she going to use that scroll for?", and it had replied rather unhelpfully, "That answer is not available yet." Jerboa had explained it couldn't answer questions about things that hadn't happened yet, and asked instead, "Is she currently planning on doing anything with D- the scroll?" It had answered no, which was somewhat comforting, she supposed, but it didn't rule out the possibility of the dragoness changing her mind, despite Jerboa's insistence she wouldn't. She'd asked Jerboa to use the truth scroll to keep track of the dragoness to find her. Jerboa had suggested that going after the Nightwing so soon might just put her further on the defensive, and they might want to wait a while to go after her, but she acquiesced that in the event she did change her mind, and used magic to hide her location, it would be useful to still have some idea of her general area. Glacier had expected the scroll to answer something like, "on an island off the coast," or, "In a cave in the far north of the Sky kingdom," or even, "On the volcano, the old Nightwing home." What she hadn't been anticipating was for it to respond in its monotone, uninterested tone, "Across the ocean, on the continent of Pantala."
Jerboa had been equally surprised by that answer, but she'd insisted the scroll had never been wrong before, and as days turned to weeks of the scroll giving the same answer, Glacier had to accept that it was true. Not that that helped with her worries, because what were the dragons over there like, and what if they found the scroll, and what would they do with something so dangerous? The scroll had replied most days that Moonwatcher was uninterested in interacting with this other continents dragons, but more and more it was reporting she had some amount of interest in them, which did not make Glacier feel better.
She'd wondered if she should tell the other Queen's about this discovery, or even her own dragons, but Jerboa had worried telling anyone else about this new continent, and especially telling any of the Queens that the most dangerous weapon in history was over there, might cause a panic. Better to just keep an eye on the situation for now, make sure it was under control then try to figure something out. "Besides-" the Sandwing had shrugged, "It's not like there's anyone who could make that journey safely. Without future sight the way I bet that dragonet did it, there'd be no one willing to make a journey so risky. Only someone particularly desperate I could see doing that, and someone desperate being sent to retrieve something so dangerous? Seems like a much worse situation to me."
A sharp rap at her door snapped her back into herself. She smoothed down her spikes and moved to her dresser to adorn herself before starting her day. Something of a plan was spinning around in her head, a way to end her nightmares and get that scroll into safe talons.
I'll have to go to my library tonight, go over that enchantment a few times. That is, assuming I actually want to do this. Do I want to do this? I suppose I'm better off doing something about that dragoness sooner rather than later.
She checked the gift of communication, as she always did, anticipating the same answer from Jerboa as usual, except-
She wants to do what? Again? What if this time-
She flipped the tablet over, wishing already she left it until tonight.
Alright, I suppose I am doing this, before that dragoness does something unwise and gets us all killed.
The night air was still as always, cool darkness sinking comfortably into her scales and giving her a perfect view of the millions of shining sparks in the sky, usually drowned out by the overwhelming brightness of the day. Today was particularly dark, two of the moons were new at once, leaving only the smallest of them to shine alone. This was the night to stop putting it off, to approach a nest again. She didn't think she'd take anything with time, she just wanted another look.
Given tonight's relative darkness, she took her chances flying in sections, hoping the bright lights of the nests would make her invisible to any possibly watching dragons. Not many would be awake in the larger, closer nest she assumed, so at least for now, she was mostly safe. Still, she tried to keep her head clear, listening for any nearby thoughts.
She dipped down closer to the grass, lowering her claws to brush the faintly waving surface. This was certainly an odd continent. As far as she could see, there weren't any trees for miles around. Maybe this was just like the desert back home, covering much of the continent with little plant life to speak of. She couldn't understand why though, there was plenty more water here than the desert, she would've figured plants other than grass and shrubbery would grow here, but maybe not. She didn't know much about plants, it wasn't someone the Nightwing scrolls ever touched on given their lack of ability to grow anything within their own Kingdom.
She caught an updraft, soaring higher on long glides. Their Kingdom. She'd noticed herself referring to the tribe like that in the last few months before leaving for school. As if they weren't her tribe, something entirely separate from her. Maybe she'd started thinking like that because of how they thought of her, she was an outsider in their eyes, so they were outsiders in hers. Or maybe it was because of how different they were from what she'd expected of her wonderful tribe described in the scrolls, that she didn't want to think of them like they were simular to her. She frowned worrying her claws together, she wasn't sure how to feel about that. Was she supposed to be disappointed in her tribe? Did that make her less of a Nightwing? Did it even matter if she was "less" of a Nightwing?
Moon checked herself suddenly, stopping and touching her ears tentatively. Was she imagining it, or did she just hear something? There it was again, a quiet mumbling at the back of her mind, soft but unmistakable. Where was it coming from? She glanced down, scanning the ground until her eyes caught on a difference in the landscape, three dark shapes, huddled and whispering. Moon dropped down on silent talons, ears pricked as she stalked towards them. They sounded like they were arguing low growls and hisses slipping through the grass and out into the night. She wasn't close enough to see them clearly yet, and she couldn't hope to understand what they were saying, so all she could do was crawl closer and hope to guess based on their body language. Not that she was particularly great at that.
She inched as close as she could manage, aware of the small drop-off the dragons were sitting in, careful not to lose her balance and fall in. She could see the dragons more clearly now, and though colours were always harder to guess under moonlight they looked to be green. That was surprising, she'd never seen any green dragons here yet. Now she was looking closer, they looked substantially different than any dragon she'd seen from the nests. They only had two wings, like any Pyrrhian dragon, both of them curved and shaped like leaves.
So there are trees somewhere here.
She thought, embarrassed she'd almost thought this continent somehow did without something as fundamental as wood. The new dragons were covered in leather pouches, dyed a dark forest green. None of them looked particularly heavy, she wondered what they kept in them.
Suddenly one of them hissed, standing up and growling something to another. She was female, tall and strong, and coiled with anger. Moon instinctively pressed herself closer to the ground, as though she was the one being yelled at. She expected the dragon being shouted down to do the same, but all she did was stand up, yowling back. This one was much smaller, also female, and similar enough to the first one to make Moon question if they were related.
The one in between, with darker, quieter scales and an exasperated expression tried to calm them. He was male, and not covered in quite as many pouches as the other two. The smaller one held up her chin, growling something before turning and stopping off into the savanna. Moon flinched back, wondering if getting this close was possibly a bad idea. The larger one sat, muttering curses. The quiet one said something low, tilting his head to indicate the large nest looming in the distance. The angry one's face darkened, mumbling something soft and dangerous between them. The quiet one nodded, standing and shaking out his wings. He turned to add one last comment, then disappeared into the grass after the first one.
The angry dragon didn't move for a long time, and Moon held her breath as even and soft as she could, wary of being heard. The dragoness was still as a cobra about to strike, staring off after the other dragons as though debating something with herself. Moon tried to reach out her awareness, peering into the edges of the dragoness' mind for any hint of what she was thinking about. All she could sense was anger, an old anger, festering and poisonous, and underlined with hints of cold, callous self-righteousness. She tried not to think about it, to taint her image of these dragons only just after meeting them, but this one reminded her achingly of him, or the brief glimpses she'd seen when his mask cracked.
What are they doing here? Why haven't I ever seen dragons like this before?
Her claws dug into the soft dirt, anchoring her from falling too far into her worries.
Does it have something to do with the nests? It has to, surely, but then what?
She needed to get away, to think this through more thoroughly. She could hear the two dragons coming back. Perfect, she could use that opportunity to slip away and-
She shifted, the grass rustled around her slightly, and the dragoness' head snapped towards her, every muscle tensed. Staring straight into the furious dragoness' eyes, she felt paralysed, but from her expression Moon doubted the odd-looking dragon had seen her. Moon felt her stomach twist, from fear she first assumed, but then the world shifted, and she felt like she was falling, the ground coming closer to swallow her whole.
Oh no, not now, please not now.
The vision cared not for her pleas, exploding behind her eyes like a wildfire.
It was a fire, she was surrounded, dragons burning and dying as the floors and walls around her fell apart, the very structure she was in groaning as it bowed sideways. Blackened scales and shrieking voices overwhelmed her scenes, dragons pushing and trampling each other in their desperate search for an escape from this hell. Moon tried to move with them, the crowd crush sucking the air from her lungs faster than the fire could swallow it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She was burning, her talons alight with blistering agony. The structure splintered, giving way and tilting the floor sideways as it thundered towards the ground. The screams around her heightened, twining together in one last terrified crescendo, and then-
Moon was lying on grass, cool earth soft beneath her scales. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, fast but slowing.
It's not real, it hasn't happened, it's not going to happen
There were voices, unfamiliar and strange. Moon pushed herself up slowly, as her awareness came back to her.
A dragon, the largest dragon, was staring around the spot where Moon lay, muscles tight with tension. She opened her mouth to call out when the quiet one came back with the smaller one trailing behind him. The larger one turned to look at them, and Moon took the opportunity, stepping back until she was far enough away not to rustle the grass near the green dragons.
They were talking again, probably about whether to go investigate the noise. Even if they weren't, Moon wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. Once she felt she was far enough away she lifted into the sky, not twisting to look back until she was a comfortable distance away. Moon touched down at the bank of the thin river she'd been staying by, stopping for a drink while she thought.
They can't be good news, but what am I supposed to do about them if I don't even know why they're here?
She thought of her vision, shivering,
I suppose I have some idea, burning a nest, but why?
Moon had often questioned what the massive structures were made of over the months. Even from within the market it was hard to tell, but I had looked somewhat like wood. She'd guessed then that the dragons living there mustn't be able to breathe fire. Maybe that's why she'd never seen any green dragons before, they weren't allowed to live in the nests because of their fire.
And what's the point in burning one anyway? Do they just want to kill dragons? I doubt it, I didn't see anything like that in them, but well, I didn't see anything like that in him either and yet-
She splashed her face with water, rubbing the dust from her scales. She sighed, staring down at her distorted reflection on the rippling surface.
Should I even get involved? This doesn't have anything to do with me, but still, I can't just let dragons die if intervening could've saved them.
She thought about Qibli, his belief her powers could be used for good, to protect dragons who need it, and his guilt about not saving Carnelian.
If only I knew what they were saying, then maybe I could understand them, maybe I could help them.
An idea struck her like lightning, fast and dangerous.
Maybe I could. Would it be worth it? In the long term yes, of course, how else am I supposed to stay here? What if I don't end up staying much longer, and I waste my soul on this for nothing? Maybe I shouldn't, I said I wouldn't do any more enchantments... but isn't this necessary? My soul can't be worth more than the lives of all those dragons surely.
She dragged a digit through the river, the water splitting in a v around her claw, churning her water to an unrecognisable mass of dark shapes and shadows.
It's not like I'm doing this for my own reasons. I just want to help other dragons, surely that can't be damaging.
She moved to where she kept her not-scroll hidden, pulling it out along with the very last dredges of ink. She hastily wrote out a few practice spells on the blank pages, perfecting her wording. She paused on her third rewrite, considering.
What will happen if they do find me while I'm listening in? An odd dragonet not from any tribe they've seen before? What if they just kill me? I suppose I could make a disguise, like the one's Peril's father used...
But that would mean another spell, another spot on her soul. She shook her head,
No no, that would be far too much, I'll just be careful.
Finally happy with her wording, unrolled the scroll, carefully removing the amber earring from the scrollcase and cupping it in her right talons. Steadying her claw, she began to write. Enchant this earring so anyone who wears it can understand and speak the language of this continent's green, leaf-like tribe of dragons. Remove any knowledge of the wearer's native language while wearing this earring, and remove any knowledge of this new language when she takes it off.
Moon stopped writing, wiping off the leftover ink. Power thrummed through the earring, pulsing faintly as she held it. She'd added that last part for the fear adding an entirely new language to her brain might mess with her ability to speak Pyrrhian. Safer to keep them separate she imagined. She shivered, holding her wings tight around herself, had it gotten colder?
She pinched the earring between her claws, wondering suddenly how she was going to get it on. She'd never worn earrings, or jewellery of any kind of that matter, she wasn't sure how to. She examined it, pressing the sharp point on the far end from the amber itself.
I guess this part is supposed to go through my ear.
She was already wincing, preparing for how much that hurt. She regretted now not asking Qibli more about his earring. She raised the shimmering gold to her ear, pressing two claws to the back of her ear to hold it in place, with a gap in between for the metal to fit through. She touched the tip of the metal to the spot on her ear, closing her eyes. She breathed out shakily, trying to reassure herself.
Alright, here goes nothing. Three, two, now!
She jammed it through, squeaking and crouching forwards at the sudden pain. It dulled slightly with each heartbeat, spreading as heat through her ear. She reached towards her head, reminding herself of why she'd done this in the first place. Did she feel any different? She didn't think so, maybe a little lightheaded but that wasn't the work of the enchantment.
She sat back, sighing as rubbing the back of her neck.
I suppose I'll just have to find my new friends again to check. Not tonight though.
The sky was lightening in the east, just faintly, but enough to tell her day would be soon to follow. She rested her head on her claws.
Is this a bad idea? I could be about to fly to my death tomorrow and not even know it, Hello? Destiny, Moons, whatever's sending me these visions, are you listening? Any conveniently timed visions to drop on me right now?
Her head was for once, beautifully, serenely silent. Not even a feeling of wrongness or wanting to pull her in any direction.
Are you unsure of what I should do? I suppose that means there are good timelines whether I involve myself in this continent's troubles or not. Or maybe it just means I'm equally doomed either way.