Chapter Twenty Three

"Come on, Moon, concentrate!" Darkstalker's voice encouraged her eagerly. "You almost had it that time."

Her brow furrowed, talons digging into the soft earth underneath her. Distantly, the sounds of crashing waves sweeping in and out along the shore drifted to her ears. They'd come to the eastern edge of the city tonight, the sharp canyons giving way to rolling hills down to the ocean. Darkstalker had brought her here, brimming with excitement which had soon become infectious once Moon knew where they were going. She'd never seen the sea before! They'd played in the salty spray, delighting in the cold splash of the waves against their scales. It had been a fantastic start to their evening. And when they'd had their fill, they'd retreated off the sand to the hills to begin their lessons. They were focusing on how to mentally defend herself tonight, working on the shortcomings they'd noticed before and building them up. Darkstalker insisted that though her raindrop trick was good, having a repetitive sound to help her concentrate on keeping him out would help immensely. Hence, sitting by the ocean.

However, even recognizing the sound of the ocean made her think of the fun they'd had just an hour before. And that in turn lost her concentration.

Perhaps I should have given you the reward after you'd completed your lesson, Darkstalker grumbled inside her head, proving that she'd failed.

Moon opened her eyes, sighing sadly. Or perhaps, she thought at him just for the reassuring feeling of her mind against his, I'm just not very good at this.

He snorted. "Nonsense! Of the two of us, I do believe I know what I'm talking about when I say you have potential." He briefly brushed his wing against hers, smiling for her. "Now give it another try. Concentrate on your anchor - something you know well enough that gives you a feeling of security and safety. Transform it into walls of solid stone in your mind, merge it with the sound of the sea that will wash away any invader."

Closing her eyes once again, Moon fought back a smile at his theatrics. She wondered if Darkstalker would've been an actor in another life. He certainly had a flair for dramatics and an absurd ego to do so.

I heard that.

You were meant to.

Giving in, she willed herself to concentrate on the lesson. That ball of anxiety weighed heavy in her stomach, threatening to grow again like last time if she failed this lesson as well. Her attempt at humour and distraction was how she was deciding to cope to better ignore it. But now, she could put it off no longer, and so did her best to think of her anchor, letting the waves wash through her mind, adding to her usual raindrops. She also thought on Darkstalker's words, he'd not explained her anchor in those terms before. It made her wonder.

Something that made her feel safe and secure. Abruptly, her anchor that had been her scroll of 'Prince of the Sun', changed and she thought of music. Specifically, the music that she could always hear rolling through Darkstalker's mind, a tune that was now familiar to her, even if she didn't know its name. She tried to replicate it as best she could. She remembered the time when she'd briefly thought to go after Scarlet and he'd stopped her and they'd stayed up through the night just staying in a bubble of their minds and that music. The circumstances had not been particularly life threatening but it gave her a sense of peace all the same. And she realised that whenever she'd felt frightened or unsure, that music had always come to her until she felt better.

"Moon?" a talon shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes, confused.

Darkstalker had a certain pensive expression on his face, though he tried to hide it with a smile. "You did it."

She blinked. "I did?"

"Briefly, I'll admit. But you still did it."

Moon felt as if her wings were full of air and she was being pulled up into the sky. She grinned and stood slowly so that she wouldn't jump around like a silly adolescent. But it did nothing to stop her feeling it. Her joy seemed enough to wipe away whatever was bothering Darkstalker, and his smile turned more genuine. "Keep this up," he said, "and you'll soon be a true NightWing."

"Hardly," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I didn't grow up on the volcano, so I think no matter what I do I will not be enough of a NightWing for them."

"Do those NightWings know the moons like you do? Can they hear the whispers of what makes a dragon who they are? Do they hear the tongues of those in the Beyond speak to them in prophecy?"

Moon tried to hide her giggles behind her wing. "No, I guess not." Then she asked, "Why do we hear voices when a prophecy comes over us? It's spooky, like someone else has taken over my mouth to say things."

"In a way, that's true." Darkstalker picked up a stone and flung it out into the sea, watching it arc gracefully through the air before it made its final plunge. "NightWings used to believe that when we died, our souls became one with the Beyond, a place where all time was one. What was, what is, and what could be, we all became a part of it. So when you see into future, when you hear those voices marching through your brain and words come out, those are the ones from the Beyond, giving warnings to those here in the realm of the living."

Moon didn't know whether to find some comfort in that or to be creeped out. The thought of ghosts roaming around her head wasn't exactly pleasant.

"NightWings have always been intrinsically linked to the fabric of fate," he went on. "That's why we believe that those with grander destinies still left to be told come back from the Beyond, to be born again. To live the life destiny meant for them."

"I don't remember father telling me any stories like that. It sounds rather… fantastical."

"The NightWings have no time for culture?"

"They're too busy with lessons on how to look like you're reading someone's mind, and how to rhyme properly to make up a prophecy."

Darkstalker's jaw hung open, "You're joking?"

"No, my father told me himself - that's what real NightWings have to do to convince everyone else to fear them." It had been one of the rare moments that her father had told her anything about life on the island that didn't involve trying to scare her with the idea of it.

"Sometimes I wonder what drove our tribe to this, I truly do." He chuckled to himself. "Imagine if they'd been asked to make a prophecy on the fly, and they had to find a rhyme for a word like depth or ninth."

"I suppose that's the curriculum these days." She thought for a moment. "What was it like back then? I imagine your upbringing was so much different."

Darkstalker huffed a small laugh, but the amusement was gone from his eyes. "Yes, Moon. My upbringing was unlike anyones, I imagine. Yet strangely close to your own."

That statement at the end, said so quietly she almost didn't hear, made her frown. What did that mean? Instead, she laid back down in the cool grass and offered him her talon. "Show me?"

The moments in which he hesitated was getting shorter. Now, he laid down opposite her, stretching out his large wings, the exaggerated claws digging into the earth easily. He took her talon in his and closed his eyes. Moon mirrored him as she felt him pull their two minds into one.

They remembered their first day at school, only a few months before Fathom came into their lives. Mother had argued tirelessly with Commander Prudence to allow both her dragonets to attend school, saying that it would benefit them in the long run. It had taken weeks to get her approval. But it was only on the condition that they excel, and so they were determined to do so, to not let Mother down.

Upon arriving, they'd been taken to a set of classrooms and were given a specific set of instructions. Males had sat at the back of the classroom, and they'd been asked to stay late after class in order to attend private tutelage. All the while they had worried over Whiteout, lost somewhere else in the school. Their tutors had decreed that Whiteout was mentally deficient and so should be put into a class a year younger to be sure she wasn't overwhelmed. But they had to be put a year higher, to prove that they were intelligent enough to meet their expectations.

And yet despite all that their mind had been flooded with knowledge. All the possibilities, the reach of their potential. Every new thing they learned became a new jewel within the treasury of their mind.

As soon as class had ended, they'd left to try and find Whiteout. Their visions told them that if they didn't reach her soon, bad things would happen. As it was, they arrived as dragonets from their own age-group were picking on her. Whiteout couldn't understand why they disliked her, or the names they called her, but she did know that they were a threat. Her mind called out to theirs.

A deep feeling of anger made their stomach burn. No one could do that to Whiteout - they wouldn't let them! They wanted to leap onto the bullies and fight them off, or cast a spell that would immediately deal with the situation. But both of those options would only cause further trouble. So instead, they marched between the dragons to stand beside their sister, putting a wing over her back and pulling in close.

"That's enough," they'd said.

The head bully was female, and squared her shoulders as she tried to assert her dominance physically over him. "Another hybrid? I don't know what the school board is thinking - the pair of you can barely be considered members of the tribe. My mother says so."

"Really…" they kept their temper, instead allowing themselves a broad smile that everyone would see. "Your mother also told you that Whiteout is much prettier than you. Which I fully agree with. And she is right - your snout is far too short."

The other dragonets around them all began to either mutter under their breath or snicker behind their wings. Outrage blasted through the bully's mind. "Why you nosy-son of a traitor-freak!"

They'd wanted so badly to claw at her face for that. But Whiteout was trembling bad enough - she always hated shouting. And besides, a teacher was coming to break up the fight. Of course they were punished later that night for daring to show such disrespect. And of course, straight after school they were sent along to the facility for further training.

The memories did their usual weird shift. Moon steeled herself and went along with it.

Magic flowed through their bones as they summoned it into being, making a spear float. A year and a half had elapsed since the last memory. They could feel eyes on their back, and attempted to keep perfect posture as they went about the tedious task. Fathom and Clearsight were waiting for them. But they would not be allowed to leave until they met the expectations of their Keepers.

"All the power in the world," said one of their tutors. "And it is wasted on this? A hybrid cannot be trusted, they belong to neither tribe. Shouldn't even exist."

The other one sighed. "If the female had held even a shred of his power we wouldn't have needed to bother. But at least the queen can salvage something from this situation."

Hurt twisted their stomach, though they tried to tell themselves to be cold and distant. The Keepers wanted to get a rise out of them, wanted to see them squirm.

"That's enough," called the nastiest tutor. "Now to the ring. We're going to work on your block and retaliation."

"But I have things to do!" they blurted. This was past the usual time they were kept back. Their friends would think they'd deserted on their plans.

However, the words were the very worst thing to say. The tutor turned seething black eyes on them, teeth bared. "Who do you think you're talking to?!"

They were angry - they'd had to listen to non-stop insults for two hours and now they were being kept back beyond the usual time they had to endure this waking hell. That fire emboldened them to stand up to the Keeper. "I am usually released at this time. I am tired and I want -"

SMACK.

The blow made their jaw feel like it was on fire! Their head smacked to the side and their ears rang. They fell to the floor, sand churning up in their face. They blinked slowly, realising what happened. Hate and spite radiated out of the mind of their Keeper, not even bothering to shield their own thoughts so that such nastiness could assault them mentally over and over. When they looked up, they saw the Keeper towering over them, a rod in their talon. Instinctively, they wanted to cower away, a phantom pain rippling across their back.

But they weren't a hatchling anymore. They might not be full grown, but they wouldn't allow themselves to be walked all over any more. Defiantly, they stood, staring down their oppressor. Magic hummed through their entire body, an extension of their very being, wanting to lash out and correct this blight upon the world -

"Enough!"

Everyone turned. It was mother! Oh, how they wanted to smile at her. How much they wanted her just to look at them, show concern and fury at how someone had dared to harm her dragonet. Act like any normal mother. But she wouldn't, and her love was closed tightly behind the door in her mind.

Mother glared at the Keeper. "I'll take over from here. He'll learn better under my watch."

"You'll go soft on him," spat the Keeper. "We do not need weakness in him-"

"You forget yourself, Shadeturner." Mother growled, standing to her full, impressive height. "Despite the circumstances of your birth, you were allowed into this programme through the good grace of your betters. Including me. You are not to give me orders, lowborn."

The Keeper ducked her head, fury and shame and hate pouring out of her head. They were thankful that mother couldn't sense such vileness. Lowborns were never to surpass the upperclass, in authority or accomplishment. Though they were treated poorly because they were both male and a hybrid, a lowborn was lower on the pecking order than that.

Both Keepers slunk away, leaving them alone with mother. They beamed at her, thankful for her rescue.

"You know you shouldn't antagonise them," said Mother. "Do as you're told, Darkstalker. It will make things easier."

"Even when they are positively vile beings who don't have a clue about what they're talking about?" they snapped irritably.

Mother's eyes darted to the walls. "Watch your tongue, dragonet."

"Yes, commander." They said through gritted teeth. Others might be listening to them, familiar bonds were something they could not afford, no matter how much they might wish it so desperately.

Mother relaxed and paced the room to stand opposite them. "Now come, from this day on, I shall be teaching you to fight."

That caught their interest. Mother was usually too busy with other duties to be part of the programme personally. "Really?"

"Yes. Now come, show me what you've got and we'll work from there."

And mother did teach them. She felt responsible for their fate and thought that by teaching them personally, she might be able to make this ordeal easier. And oh, how it felt good - this was something they could share, something for them alone. Where mother could never show her love in public, she let it seep into her touch, in the way their bodies clashed against each other in brutal combat, in how she corrected their stance or technique. Her love promised the world, that sooner or later, the torment would end, and then it would all be worth something! That love emboldened them, made them strive with the confidence to know that what they were doing was right - so long as the end result justified it all.

That memory came to an end, and another soon took its place.

The moons shone weakly upon the waves that whispered against the sand. The cliffs were filled with shadows, and the two houses carved into the stone looked more like the tombs of childhood dreams. They put their hands upon the house trying to feel something other than claustrophobia at the sight of the small stone place. Where was the excitement, the happiness they used to feel when they imagined the future here?

"Darkstalker?" Clearsight's voice was right behind them. A soothing feeling swept over their scales. They turned around and pulled her into their embrace. "You're back from the front! Why didn't you come to see me? Or Fathom?"

"I… had a lot on my mind. I was going to come to you both later." That wasn't a lie. The battles had been going better than even they had expected, and their commander had granted them two weeks off to recuperate. Or at least, they had convinced them to do that. "Besides, I don't think Fathom's guest would appreciate my presence."

Clearsight frowned. "You really need to let go of this grudge, Darkstalker. Fathom loves Indigo, you should be happy for him."

"Happy that he's going to run off with that harpy?" they snorted. "Riiiight..."

They thought back on that night only a few months ago that had made them feel so happy. Giving out the Dreamvisitors and the Soulreader. It had been such a wonderful night. But they hadn't even noticed the SeaWing scouts that had spotted them, who had then reported back to Queen Pearl, Fathom's sister and one of the few survivors of the SeaWing massacre. Everyone in the Kingdom of the Sea had assumed Fathom had died that night, as Albatross had said repeatedly how he wanted to obliterate Fathom from the face of Pyrrhia. So when scouts had reported he was alive, Pearl had wanted her brother returned to her immediately.

When these requests had reached Queen Vigilance, they had persuaded the Queen against returning Fathom. Those fools did not know him, and they certainly didn't care about him if it took them this long to find him - and even then by chance! So when Fathom had not gone back to the sea, Queen Pearl had sent her most trusted advisor and warrior to retrieve him: Indigo. She and Fathom had known each other when they were hatchlings and Fathom had always loved her, even in the years he'd stayed with the NightWings. So upon seeing her again, he had fawned all over her.

Unfortunately, they hadn't much appreciated Indigo trying to worm her way into Fathom's life, and Indigo had made it clear that she distrusted and despised them equally. She was always telling Fathom that they were secretly evil and wanted to manipulate him. The wretch had a phobia of every animus that wasn't Fathom, but had made an enemy out of them on that day. On their sixth hatchingday, when they'd been deployed to join the army at the front lines, they had almost argued against leaving - because that meant leaving Fathom alone with her.

"Maybe you should go and apologise," Clearsight was saying, "clear the air with Indigo. Then we can all move on. I can see all of our dragonets playing together on this beach, don't you?"

Yes, they saw that vision, but it also meant living next door to that shrill leech for the rest of their lives. No. They saw much better visions than that, much grander visions, visions where everything they had suffered in life finally meant something. A future where their turmoils and pains were finally given a reward…

"Clearsight," they said gently. "Don't you ever wonder if a better future could be out there for us?"

She stiffened in their embrace. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," they murmured, disengaging from her. It was no use getting into an argument with her over this. "Just a dream I had… Come. Let us see Fathom."

As they flew, they left the cliffs behind for the grand and sparkling city. And with it came the resolve in their heart that living in stone shacks on the cliffs like poor hermits would not ever be good enough for their loved ones, not good enough for their dragonets, not good enough for them.

Fathom still lived in Foeslayer and Arctic's house, mostly because they all still functioned as a family (most of the time) and also because of his promise to them that he would take care of Whiteout whilst they were away at war. This also meant Indigo was staying with them. Arctic made endless complaints about his home being stuffed with vagrants, but he secretly enjoyed the company of others who shared his sleep cycle. And Indigo's attitude made him feel validated.

Clearsight went home. They couldn't be seen together, especially not when they had just returned home from war, and instantly going to her side might be considered suspicious. So, they faced the others alone. Mother had arrived a few hours before they did. Of course, Whiteout leapt into their wings as soon as she saw them, and Arctic pretended they didn't exist. The old flame of hate flared anew. They could see inside of Arctic that he was at least a little relieved that they were alive, but he also was resentful because that meant they had definitely killed IceWings.

They wanted to scream at him - this was war!

"Brother!" Fathom cried jovially. "I was beginning to fear you'd gotten lost."

That made them smile. "Is that SeaWing speak for 'I missed you so much, Darkstalker, you incredibly handsome devil, you! Everyone knows you are the best and I have had to manage without you all by myself!'"

"You squid-brain!"

And of course, Indigo stood to the side, watching like a hawk. Her mind ticked over all the threats they posed, and she tried to wonder what he was up to.

"I don't know about any of you," they said, "but after such a long flight, I need a drink."

"Yeah, you might need it," Fathom said in a tone that made them grow still. They searched his mind but all Fathom could think was Indigo-Indigo-Indigo! How aggravating. "Indigo and I have been discussing me… potentially… returning to the kingdom of the Sea."

The glass in their talon shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Hot pain sliced their palm. Blood soaked their clenched claws.

"Watch it!" Arctic barked. Mother sighed and immediately went to clean it up, muttering about how it had to have been an accident.

They leveled a stare on Fathom. "Might I have a word?" It was a question but their tone left no room for argument.

They led Fathom to their room, and of course, she had to follow. "Please don't be angry-"

"You can't go." They told Fathom.

Indigo stood squarely in front of Fathom, eyes narrowed. "You don't get to tell him what to do."

"Pearl thought I was dead for so long," the male SeaWing said. "It sounds like they want me back, that they could use my gifts…"

"But you don't want to use them," they said.

"It would be a chance for me to go home…"

"This is your home!"

All at once, the harpy was stood chest to chest with them. "Don't talk to him like that! If Fathom wants to live his life, then you can't stop him. You can't make him sit around here waiting for you to come home like a neglected puppy."

"You stay out of this!" they hissed in her face. "Fathom, don't give up on the life you have here, the future in store. Let me make you see-"

They had gone to push past Indigo, and in that moment she had sprung. She'd grabbed their wrist and wrenched one arm to the side and back, twisting it at a painful angle, forcing their spine to arch. Then, she'd grabbed a knife off the desk and pressed it into their left armpit. Just one little push, and she would piece a lung. A harder push, and she would stab their heart. In retaliation, a spell was right on the tip of their tongue, ready to kill her in an instant -

But then Fathom's voice broke through. "Stop it! Indigo, get off him!"

"I told you he wouldn't let you!" she growled. "Why doesn't he want you to go? Why does he always want to keep you here? It's because he's up to something!"

"Darkstalker is my brother," Fathom argued. "He would never do such a thing."

"Not to Fathom," they added, giving her a cold glare. "You, on the other talon, should think very carefully about your next move."

She hesitated for only a moment, but that was enough. Their long tail lassoed around her neck and wrenched her backwards. The pair of them went down. They followed up with three consecutive, hard blows to the stomach, ribs, and atop the shoulders. Indigo tried to fight back, and she was a good warrior, but they had been trained by the best since they could walk. In a matter of moments they had her pinned to the floor, one talon raised to claw her face off -

"I said, ENOUGH!" Fathom hit into their side, pushing them off. They shook their head, dazed, and then scowled incredulously as Fathom was helping INDIGO to stand?! "You didn't have to take it that far."

"She was the one trying to kill ME!" they roared. It was a good thing they'd cast a spell to soundproof this room years ago.

"But you should have let me handle it! Not taken the opportunity I know you've been itching for! You've already found your soulmate, let me have mine!" and in his mind, they read the fear that lingered beneath the surface. That they could have used their power at any moment. Fathom bundled Indigo into his embrace and left the room. They watched them go, seething as a burning jealousy scorched their veins.

And that fear they'd felt when Indigo had pressed the knife to their flesh… It felt too real. It was very possible that in some alternative timeline, they could have died this night. They had been in three battles so far, but death had never felt closer than in this moment. It was… humiliating, terrifying. Because for all their training, all their power, they had been utterly helpless for one moment that could have ended everything.

They never wanted to feel like that again. Not ever.

Moon slowly returned to herself as the last memory faded into nothing. Usually when she came back from these memories she felt a little lighter, as if a piece of the darkness that was this mystery had been lifted. But after that last glimpse… she felt a little cold inside.

She had possibly just witnessed the moment when Darkstalker had decided to make himself invulnerable and immortal. And the thing was it felt so… reasonable. He'd been frightened of his own mortality, helpless, and unlike anyone else who had to deal with those fears and move on, he had the power to change that fear. Moon had felt that sense of powerlessness before, and she knew she never wanted to feel that again if she could help it. She resolved to do that by avoiding those kinds of situations.

If she had Darkstalker's power, wouldn't she want to feel that kind of security for her and her loved ones? The line between the right and wrong answer became blurry.

But what was more upsetting to her, was that she'd witnessed the gradual change in her friend that she had once thought irreconcilable. And now she didn't know what to feel. How could Darkstalker have gone from the dragon who wanted to live out his life in peace and happiness with his wife and their promised dragonets, his best friend living next door; to a ruthless, power hungry king in the making?

"I loved my tribe, Moon," Darkstalker said in a quiet voice, his gaze firmly fixed on the distant starlight. For a moment, Moon wondered how he could've known her private thoughts, and then realised that she hadn't put her earring back on. Her talons shook a little as she tried to put in her ear without him thinking it was because of him. Darkstalker pretended not to notice. "I would've been the best ruler they'd ever had. I know it; I saw the futures where I was king, benevolent and beloved, married to Clearsight with six little dragonets of our own. Those were possible. That could have happened if anyone had had faith in me."

The want to say I have faith, was right there on her tongue, but for some reason she couldn't let the words be uttered. Instead they had to let the silence hang between them. A cold wind blew in from the sea, making her shiver.

"Let us leave this place." Darkstalker turned back towards the west and leapt into the sky, his expression hard as stone. Moon hesitated, wondering if she had been wrong to keep her silence, but then followed.

They flew south of the main city, expanding their reach. Darkstalker had mentioned that an aqueduct used to bring water from a river in the south to the city, and thought it was broken. Perhaps he was going to find that and repair it. Moon followed along obediently and silently. After what had just happened, she couldn't deny him a spell - it was part of their deal after all.

Abruptly, Darkstalker faltered in the air. Moon had to swerve so that she wouldn't collide into his back. And that was when she saw it.

A huge furrow had been ploughed into the ground, destroying old buildings and foliage. From bank to bank it was wide enough for a single dragon to walk through. It cut a straight line through the landscape like a claw raked through flesh. Darkstalker gave Moon a wary glance, mentally communicating with her to stay close and be on guard. Cautiously, they followed the track in the earth. It stretched for at least a mile. When they reached its end, Darkstalker gave a small involuntary sharp inhale of surprise. Moon had to crane her head around him to see.

The trail in the earth had led them to a massive crater that looked as if it had crushed an entire town square. In the centre of it, sat a hulking boulder, such a deep black that it seemed suck all the light around it inside itself and spit nothing back out. The thing oozed malevolence, which disturbed Moon, for a rock such as this should be unfeeling and inanimate. Yet, the boulder had this effect on her mind that the longer she looked at it, it seemed to ensnare her thoughts and drag her consciousness down into a muck that made it hard to think. A buzzing hum filled her mind as she drew close to it, a hum that made her spine tingle and her scales feel as if they were being turned the wrong way. Her deepest instinct told her to flee immediately. Even as something else pulled her closer.

And suddenly, she recognised this feeling. Granted, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago, and the effects had been on a much smaller scale. But there was no mistaking it.

"It's Skyfire," she blurted.

Darkstalker gave her a look. "Are you sure?"

Slowly, she approached the boulder, the closer she got, the greater the hum became until it felt like it would vibrate her brain into pulp. Her talons shook. The urge to run grew greater - was this what prey felt like when it saw her descend on it in the last moment? How awful! She took off her earring and let her mind and Darkstalker's meld together, their thoughts and feelings of unease swirling around. And then, she reached out and lurched towards the rock, forcing herself to touch it before she grew too cowardly. The silence and aloneness struck her like a blow to the face. Even the burning hum was no more. She tried to reach out her mind to Darkstalker, but it was as if no mind but her own existed.

At the abrupt shut off of her thoughts, Darkstalker's panicked and snatched her away from the thing. All at once, everything came flooding back, and Moon sagged in his arms with a sigh of relief. She put her earring back on.

"So this is the meteorite that shot across the continent two years ago?" Darkstalker said thoughtfully. He set Moon right and then circled the boulder, going over it from every angle. "The one that caused the earthquakes? That set off the volcano and woke me up?"

"It must be," Moon said. "I remember it travelled from northeast to southwest across the sky… Pieces of it must've broken off as it travelled - that's why Icicle had some, but the heart of it landed here."

"The question now, is what do we do with it?"

"Do we have to do anything with it?" Moon squeaked. "I mean, can't you feel the wrongness all around it?"

He nodded. "And that's precisely why I want to see what it is, and why it affects us so. Aren't you curious? Imagine the knowledge we could gain from just a few experiments."

Perhaps he did make a good point. And she was curious to know how it affected her powers, exactly. "But how'll we get it back to the castle?"

The corner of Darkstalker's mouth twitched into a smirk. He brandished a talon with an extravagant flick of the wrist. "Do you even need to ask?"

Moon rolled her eyes but gave him permission for the spell he requested of her. She took a few steps back to give him room, avoiding the sharp debris sticking out of the crater bed.

"I enchant this boulder of Skyfire to lift itself into the air and stay several feet behind me. It will follow me wherever I go until I order it otherwise." he said.

But nothing happened. The fallen star stayed exactly where it was. Darkstalker gaped at it, then whirled on Moon. She splayed open her palms, eyes wide, just as flabbergasted as he was. She had given him permission, and he had said the spell. Why wasn't it working?

"Darkstalker," she said. "I give you permission to enchant the boulder to shrink."

"Good idea. I enchant this Skyfire to shrink itself into the size of a marble."

The boulder stubbornly remained boulder-sized.

Moon felt her heart give a terrified little shudder. "Darkstalker, what if–"

"That's not possible!" But the way his voice caught on his words betrayed his own fear. With a growl, he circled his arms around the great rock, and he heaved, determined to make it move if it would not do as he sai–

A shiver passed across his body, the tips of his wings trembled. Moon's eyes widened as she watched a kind of shadow lift from Darkstalker's scales. They abruptly looked duller, losing their glossy shine. And then, one by one, scars began to appear all over him. One cut across his left brow, another stretched almost the full length of his tail. Three stripes that were unmistakably the patterns of claw marks swept across one shoulder. And then, between his wings, all the way down his back, appeared horrendous scars that crisscrossed and zigzagged over one another. Some were thick and gnarled, others looked deep or strayed too close to the delicate membrane of his wings.

The memory from earlier rushed to her mind. Darkstalker had been threatened by his 'keepers', and he'd remembered an old pain flash across his back. By the looks of it, he must've been whipped to within an inch of his life.

"Darkstalker–!" Moon cried out in horror.

He whirled to look at her, startled, and caught sight of the back of one talon, where a scar in the pattern of teeth marks was clearly visible. With a yell he leapt back as if to escape the sight of his own body. As he did, he tail smacked against a sharp stone jutting out of the ground. His tail was striped with red. He bled.

Darkstalker almost screamed and jumped away, trying to catch his own tail. But the moment his touch left the Skyfire, that strange ripple shivered across his scales again. And then the new wound instantly stopped bleeding and knit itself back together. The scars all along his body vanished, and his scales were once more glossy and untarnished.

Frantically, he looked himself over, checking and rechecking that all blemishes were gone. When it was clear that he was himself again, he stared at Moon. She stared back.

Skyfire wasn't just anti-mindreading, or anti-precognition. It was downright anti-magic entirely!

"How is this possible?" Moon whispered. She didn't think her voice could manage any louder.

"I'm not sure..." his voice shook.

"It took away your invulnerable scales, it made you mortal." Her heart was suddenly pounding in her ears, her stomach felt like it was diving into the ground. "Darkstalker, how're you still alive?!" What if he'd turned to dust when it'd cancelled out his immortality spell? Had she come this close to losing him?

"Because my spell was only to pause my ageing. If I permanently touched this, I would age as any other dragon would, be mortal as any other dragon…" he stared at the boulder, his silver-blue eyes going strangely glassy. "We must destroy it."

She came towards him, reaching out a wing to comfort him. "Darkstalker?"

He spun, and Moon shrieked as he closed his talons around her shoulders in a nearly painful grip. His eyes were wide, his pupils mere pinpricks. "You mustn't tell a single soul of what we found here, Moon! Swear to me that you will tell no one!"

"Why?" she whined, trying to wriggle free of his hold, but his claws were locked around her.

"Because this secret must never be found! Think about it, Moon. This Skyfire, in the wrong talons, means a death sentence not just for me, but for you as well, for any dragon in Pyrrhia who has even a touch of magic! Other animus dragons. Maybe even Firescales. Or fireproof MudWings. Think of the dragonets our tribe will soon have with the powers of old!"

She did think about them. Turtle, his sister Anemone, Peril, Clay, Stonemover, maybe even Sunny? Would this really hurt them? Would she be putting them in danger if word of this ever got out?

"Promise me, Moon!"

"Alright, I promise!"

He released her, whispering 'thank-yous' over and over. They briefly discussed in anxious tones how they would go about getting rid of it. After inspecting the Skyfire, they declared that it was a strange mixture between stone, jewel and metal. Neither of them would be able to make a fire hot enough to melt it down, and destroying it into dust would take them too long. Eventually, Darkstalker came up with an idea that seemed to satisfy him.

The meteorite had landed on the edge of a hill. With all his strength (Moon avoided looking at those horrific scars that popped out again when he touched it), Darkstalker pushed it from its bed until it teetered on the brink before rolling down the hill. Quickly following after it, Darkstalker used its momentum to help him catch and lift it into the air. Even though he could still get his arms around it, it was solid and heavy and its weight threatened to drag him out of the sky. Yet through the strain and through the pain lancing through his body, he carried on. It was only a short distance to the cliffs, but that short span felt like an eternity to Moon as she hovered close by, wanting to help but unsure how.

Finally, they reached the cliffs and Darkstalker gave a furious roar and threw the Skyfire away from himself. Instantly, his scales returned to normal, and the pair of them watched as the black boulder hurtled into the sea. It crashed through the waves, sending up a gigantic splash! But then, it disappeared in an instant, sinking to the sea floor, presumably now lost forever.

With a snort, Darkstalker declared this business done. He turned away back towards the castle, complaining he was tired. Moon stayed for a moment, eyes fixed on the spot where she had last seen the Skyfire. But there was no glimmer of infinite darkness, no hum playing at the edges of her mind.

Yet still she felt a shiver creep down her spine, as if someone had walked over her grave.