Chapter 4

Finch's metal shop was nestled away in the town's permanent shop area. Finch had been in the town long enough to land a spot closer to the trade center's more prestigious shops. Located on the bottom story of a larger building, it had a storefront where customers could enter and see items that had already been made. Most of the business, however, was from custom orders from clients or customers.

Midnight spent most of his time in the back. He would help Finch with basic things that the Skywing didn't need to pay much attention to. He would grab different materials or tools for his father, but most of the time he just kept the fire going hot. And wow was it hot.

Midnight pulled on the bellows without much thinking. His father was moving around from station to station as Midnight just zoned out. The contrast between the gripping cold of the outside versus the sweltering heat of the interior was dramatic, and Midnight was sure feeling it. At first, it had been a relief to feel his body thaw out from the heat, but after he got to work behind the walls of the back of the shop, it became less desirable.

The heat had other advantages though. Dragons would loiter around the shop and come inside often to escape the cold of the weather. While most of them were doing just that, crowds and attention always brought more dragons to buy things. Regardless though, today was slower because the bad weather also had the effect of keeping people home. There was always a catch when it came to life it seemed, one moment you had more customers because of your needed warmth, but the same variables kept the customers away. Midnight didn't know if it was really beneficial or not.

But what he did know was that his arms were burning from moving these bellows. "Is it done yet?" he called out to Finch who had been tending to some metal in the forge. Midnight was positioned behind the forge, so he didn't know how far along the process was. "Almost, just keep it hot enough," he heard Finch reply faintly through the sound of the fire. Midnight grumbled to himself, mechanically keeping his arms moving the handle up and down. After a certain point Midnight was just moving automatically, the movement so repetitious and uninteresting that his mind would just wander.

In the moment, Midnight began to think about how the day had gone. Truffle had certainly gotten him into a mess like no other, and the new Icewings in the area were quite weird. Was that how all Icewings were? Foreign and hard to understand? Was this what dragons thought when they saw him?

The thought made him internally wince. It was so easy to just go about his day and not think about how much of an outlier he was, but there was always a reminder. The way dragons paused when they saw him, or the way when he interacted with things and he saw just how dark his scales were. He would probably feel different if there were other Nightwings around, but there just weren't any, and he didn't know if that would ever change.

If all Icewings acted like that, what did all Nightwings act like? He most certainly didn't act like them, or at least he thought he didn't. Did that make him any less of a Nightwing? How did his mannerisms and personality compare to theirs? He was mostly like the Skywings, he assumed, but even then he didn't interact with that many dragons other than his father.

Did that make him his own entity? Just Midnight the dragon, unlike any other but also similar to so many? Wasn't every dragon their own individual, separate to all others but still a part of their tribe? After all, the behavior of dragons was so dependent on how they were raised, and he was raised as a secret, a Nightwing dragonet in the time of war. Then that war stopped, and he became freer. He'd spent his whole life in this town and the surrounding area, and he felt like he still hadn't really spread his wings to see what life was about.

This thought brought him back to the most interesting topic of the day, the Icewings. Or, well, mainly Chiono, but still. Is that what they were doing, spreading their wings and seeing what the world was about? What was life like in the Ice kingdom, and what type of dragons were they there? Who was Chiono? He didn't know. Maybe as time passed he could—

"Hey Midnight, that's good I need you up here for a sec!"

Finch's shout ripped Midnight out of his trance, making him flinch as he stood there awkwardly gripping the bellow's handle. He dropped back down onto all fours to get going, but his arms were tired and tingly from exhaustion and the sudden change in actions in his front talons made him promptly collapse and bang his chin on the stone floor. Midnight cursed himself as he got up and scrambled forward, relief filling him because nobody had been standing there to watch what just happened.

Privacy's a gift, Midnight thought to himself as he circled around to see what Finch needed. "There you are, there is a customer waiting up front for some service and I'm a little busy right now. Go see what they want please?" Finch was wearing a pair of rather ridiculous-looking goggles and stood with a hammer in his only front talon. His massive Skywing wing-arms were pressed downward to hold himself upright rather effortlessly, his wings being one of the main ways he was able to walk around or use anything freely.

"On it," Midnight replied as he made his way around the doorless opening to the front of the store. The air was cooler up here, the lighting a much different blueish-gray compared to the dark and fiery orange of the backroom. Waiting for him was a large Skywing, most likely of military relations due to the light armor the dragon was wearing.

The Skywing had been examining some tools and weapons behind the counter when Midnight had appeared. The dragon's eyes flicked to Midnight and he seemed to have a mental pause at seeing the Nightwing. Midnight assumed it was because of his unexpected attendance in the Skywing town, but regardless the Skywing seemed to move quickly past it.

"Are you Finch?" the Skywing asked in a gruff voice once Midnight was settled. "No, but I know him. He's back there," Midnight replied, hoping he didn't sound as uncomfortable as he felt talking to this imposing stranger.

"Oh— Okay, good," the Skywing replied with a nod. He had darker-than-usual red scales, his shoulders wide and his head held high. His armor consisted of shoulder plates and a helmet that he notably had taken off upon entering the shop. It probably wasn't comfortable to wear a heavy object on his head all day.

"This is about a military-related contract," he continued. "Finch was notified ahead of time about my arrival and we planned to discuss business related to the aforementioned letter." Midnight didn't really know what to do with this information, so he just defaulted to avoiding the whole interaction. "I'll go let him know you're here then," he replied with a smile as he turned to go back into the shop.

As Midnight rounded the corner, he was met with an explosion of sparks as Finch struck a stack of melted metal with his hammer. "Ah!" Midnight yelped as he covered his face with a wing, the whole explosiveness of the action shocking him.

"Hey!" Midnight attempted to interject as Finch continued to hammer away. "There is someone here to see you about a contract!"

"Heh?" Finch said as he stopped mid-swing. He set down the hammer and turned around with his wing-arms, facing Midnight as he gave a small smile. "What'd you say, son?"

"There is a dragon here to see you about some contract from a letter?" he stated in more or less a question, the whole thing mostly unbeknownst to him. The dragon out front had seemed to know exactly what was going on, and from Finch's nod and quick departure to the front of the store, it seemed like it was all taken care of.

However, now Midnight was just posted up in the shop with nothing much to do. He thought about following Finch up front, but after seeing the brief but undeniable apprehensive look the Skywing visitor had given him, he decided against it. Midnight decided to just look around as he waited, maybe one day he would be just as familiar with this shop as he was with his home.

Standing in the corner of the room near the doorway, Midnight looked at the massive forge in the opposite corner, the coals glowing a brilliant orange as the center let out an otherworldly yellow glow. Everything in here was stone because of that fire, he could only imagine the stress of having wood in the same building as that inferno. The bellows were positioned behind the forge, and as Midnight frowned at the cooling piece of metal on the anvil, he knew that he'd have to go back there and work his tail off again to reheat it.

The anvil was positioned in the center of the room, old and smoothed around the edges from endless use. The walls of the room contained many miscellaneous shelves and work tables clustered endlessly with random pieces of metal and tools. It was obvious Finch knew what he was doing, and had been doing it for a long time. That dragon sure seemed to know where everything was because as far as Midnight was concerned, he would have a headache sorting through this cacophony within moments.

The longer Midnight stood there, the more he began to feel useless, so after a moment's pause, he made his way over to a broom in the corner and began sweeping.

"So what's going on?" Midnight asked after Finch had returned. By now he had a nice little pile of dust and slag swept into a small mound. He looked down at his accomplishment feeling modestly proud.

"That Midnight," started Finch, "was the beginning of a new future for us!"

"Oh?" Midnight replied with widened eyes. Finch just smiled at him in return. "Um... care to elaborate?"

"That was a dragon from the Skywing military," Finch explained. "He is part of a resource management team and they have reached out to our shop because they want us to make weapons and armor for the army. This means that we now have a secured income Midnight!" he finished with an excited grin.

Midnight smiled back. Most of their income was based on commissions from selling their wares, but under a consistent military contract where they would meet a quota, they could now expect a certain amount of coins combined with their commissions. In other words, things were looking up.

Money had never been a serious problem for them, but something like this was nothing but good news. "I'm so happy for you," Midnight said as he held his smile, positive feelings flowing through him at the good news.

"Be happy for us, Midnight," Finch replied as he shuffled his way over to him, placing his only front talon on his shoulder. "We will both benefit from this."

At this moment, Midnight could not be happier. As uncertain as things were, as scary as feeling like a stranger at his home was, he knew there was one place he would always fit in; he was so thankful. He was finally feeling certain about the future.

"Well anyways," said Finch, "looks like my metal has cooled down from where I left it— you mind hopping back on those bellows?"

It was done snowing by the time Midnight made it home. He and Finch had continued in the shop for some time; now it was barely twilight out as Midnight stared out his room's window. They had restarted the stove and now Midnight was getting ready to go to bed, but something was terribly wrong.

Why were there talon prints on the snow outside his window?

He didn't know how fresh they were, but because they were mildly filled in and less defined, he assumed they had been made at least a few hours ago. He had told Finch about them, but the dragon didn't mind them. He had said that sometimes dragons snooped around or just went odd places they shouldn't. He had said that he had been 'living here for almost fifteen years and nothing malicious had ever occurred.'

So why did Midnight sit there, snout almost touching the glass as it fogged up, staring out into the fading scene that was his backyard?

Because who would ever like this, Midnight thought to himself with unease. He wasn't a paranoid dragon. Maybe a nervous, anxious, sometimes even fidgety one, but not paranoid. As the light faded to the point Midnight couldn't see anymore, he suddenly felt like he was being watched now. Staring into the dimness, not able to see anything, but knowing his window was a box of light due to the candles by his door made him feel very vulnerable.

Midnight lightly dashed towards his bed— grabbed a single fur— and went over to the window and covered it by folding it up and placing it in the window seal.

"There," he said out loud to no one in particular, a smile on his face. At least he felt a little better now.

Midnight made his way over to his bed and curled up. He had snuffed out the candles and left his door open, the only light being the dancing flame from the stove in the other room, its light dancing up and down the wall adjacent to his doorway, long shadows being cast by even the smallest peaks and valleys in the wall. He could hear the gentle snapping and crackling of the wood as it burned, its warmth hugging him as he lay on his soft bed.

He imagined the cold outside, snow piled up on the ground under the stars of the clear night sky. The three moons shining down to illuminate the landscape in an eerie but serene blue like no other. The shadows of the mountains making dark abysses across the sleeping town.

Midnight shuffled in his bed, feeling the coziness of his home embrace him. However, he still couldn't bring himself to sleep, the unease of knowing that someone had been right outside his window being the cause. It wouldn't have been weird if it was anywhere else, but their house wasn't exactly in the busiest area since it was above the town away from the commotions of the streets. So why did— whoever it had been— go here? Just looking around? Wanting to steal? Accidentally stumbling upon the wrong house?

Midnight didn't know.

He lay on his side, watching the light dance on the wall opposite of him. Midnight stretched out a wing and looked at the star-like scales on the underside. They caught the light and twinkled in such a believable way, anyone who knew lesser would've guessed they were glowing. It was mesmerizing.

Midnight smiled to himself as he brought his wing back. Maybe it wasn't so bad, being a Nightwing and all. Sure, there was a stigma surrounding him of being mysterious or somehow untrustworthy or something, but he was awesome. His shiny black scales were something he needed to wear proudly. Maybe one day he would eventually feel comfortable in them.

And at that, Midnight finally drifted off into sleep.

Midnight's eyes shot open as he gasped, freezing air filling his lungs.

He was surrounded by an abyss of snow, wind howling as it drove past him, pushing on him relentlessly. In front of him stood a dragon, a dragon Midnight had seen before. They had a face of purple and black scales, a ruff of an Icewing with pristine white spikes, but did not seem to have the extra spikes draping down their back. Their scales were a mix of purples and blacks, with a few white accents decorating their wings being the only other noticeable oddity.

Midnight just stood there, already shivering only though it had been a few moments.

"U-U-Um... I don't k-know w-w-what you want-nt," he said through his chattering teeth as he wrapped his wings around himself and huddled in a sitting position.

The dragoness looked down at him, her face expressionless. Neither of them spoke, the howling of the wind being the only sound. Midnight sat there, looking as small as he could as he tried to keep the warmth in his body.

The dragoness blinked a few times and finally moved to speak.

"Do you know who I am?"

Midnight just blankly stared. He had certainly never seen this dragon before, yet somehow someone he had never seen before was present in his dreams. "No..." he responded, "can you tell me?"

The dragoness let out an amused huff, turning away from Midnight with a far look in her eyes. Midnight continued to sit there, shaking. She opened her mouth to respond, but Midnight accidentally cut her off. "It's cold," he whimpered, the sensation of touch fading from his talons and wingtips.

She gave a small smile down at him. "It is, little dragon," she said. "But you know it isn't real, don't you?"

He gave a hurried nod, a small amount of relief washing over him. "It doesn't make it any less miserable, though," he replied weakly. "What's going on?"

"You are dreaming," she replied unhelpfully as Midnight began to feel antsy. Between the cold, the ambiguity, and the absolute not wanting to be here, Midnight was losing his patience.

"I know," he said hurriedly, "I would like to know who you are. I've never met any Nightwing-Icewing hybrids before, so I don't know how you're here."

She regarded him for a moment, a mirthful look on her face at his pitying state.

"I'm trying to help you Midnight," she replied guardedly, "go carefully with your life."

And then it was all gone.

"Midnight, wake up."

Midnight shuffled in his bed, dim light shining through his now uncovered window. Finch stood with the fur that had been covering it in his hands. It just felt like it was too early, it always felt that way in the mornings.

He sat up and stretched in his bed, shaking off the cold night. It had been a long night, and he remembered having had many dreams, but he couldn't quite recall what happened in them. Dreams were like that.

All he could recall were flashes of different silly dreams about Truffle or confusing ones about Chiono, and something about being freezing cold again.

Finch had already departed from the room, and Midnight made to follow suit. He grabbed his bag and placed it around his shoulder as he proceeded with his normal morning routine. He ate; retrieved the water from outside, having to break ice off the top layer as he drank and splashed some on his face to wake up.

Today he didn't have class, and therefore he had no idea what to do with himself. Finch had already told him that he didn't need help in the forge today, and Midnight didn't want to do what he usually did: read. In his spare time, Midnight usually just read the scrolls that Finch had gotten him. He always tried to find something new to read or learn because he usually didn't have many options back in the day.

Maybe he could go flying? There was a lot he could do, but right now flying up to look at the view the mountains had to offer sounded grand. It would be preferable if he could be alone, but he remembered yesterday how Truffle had said he would see him tomorrow. Midnight felt comfortable enough with the Mudwing that the idea of hanging out with him wasn't downright anxiety-inducing.

With that, Midnight made his way down the usual path, the crunch of the snow beneath his talons being less preferable because of its chill. He decided to take flight.

Midnight lifted into the air and began gliding down towards the bulk of Clementine, the quaint houses snow-capped with many trails of smoke dancing from the chimneys of the stone buildings. The sky was a soft blueish hue, the rising sun bringing color and life to the frozen world. Midnight took in the scene, loving every bit of it. He would never get tired of the world that life had to offer. Everything always felt so picturesque if he just paused to look at it with a certain perspective. The town looked comfortable and quaint, a refuge against the elements of winter that many interesting dragons called home. The mountains towering around the sides of the town seemed like a wall, a nest to keep the town safe and isolated.

Midnight frowned.

There was a world outside those walls, and he hadn't seen it or lived it. While he had ventured outside of Clementine a few times with Finch, it had never been far. He had only seen other places in the Sky Kingdom, and eventually, the mountains and lakes lost their touch. Maybe one day he would get to explore the world of Pyrrhia, but he knew he wasn't ready for that, he still was uncomfortable with going out into town.

Midnight landed at the entrance to the street he normally followed on his walk to class, the same one that went right by Truffle's house. He made his way over toward the building, but realized something as he reached the door— he would have to knock.

Oh great, Midnight thought as he realized this. The other days Truffle had just naturally ended up interacting with Midnight, but now he felt very out of place. Nervousness coursed through him as he hyped himself up to knock. They could be asleep, after all, he was an early riser, and maybe Sedge would be the one to answer the door. These thoughts were not helping. But it didn't matter, it had to be done.

Midnight took a deep breath of the cold air and reached a closed talon upwards.

Here goes nothing.

He dropped his fist onto the door, but it swung open with the movement of his talon, his closed fist bonking a Mudwing right in the snout as they stepped forward to leave their home.

"What the—" yelled the Mudwing as they recoiled from the very unexpected tap right on their nose, a talon shooting up to clutch their face dramatically as they fell backward. Sedge flared his wings and dropped into a combat-ready position, but stopped as they observed Midnight.

He just stood there, mortified, talon raised mid-knock. "I'm sorry—" he blurted, "Sedge, right? I was just knocking I'm sorry I was here to get Truffle it was an accident really I didn't mean to do that it's my bad," he blabbered.

Sedge opened their mouth to respond but was cut off by a familiar voice from somewhere back in the house. "Oh hey, Midnight, what's up!?" Truffle rounded the corner and glanced between Sedge and the Nightwing before shrugging and making his way forward. "This is Midnight the Nightwing," Truffle said in his enthusiastic tone. "I met him in class the other day and he was probably stopping by to hang."

The older dragon stood tall again and shook himself, surprise still on his face as he regained himself. "I... see," he responded as he looked at the duo. "Are you guys going somewhere?"

"Sure," said Midnight.

"Totally," Truffle said simultaneously.

Sedge lifted his head and gazed down upon them, a tense silence falling for a moment. "Ok," he said simply, motioning with a talon toward the door. Truffle exited the house, Sedge following suit.

"What about you? Where're you going," Truffle inquired as the Sedge spread his wings.

"To go and get something to eat," he said, and with that took flight with a strong flap off his wings, the wind making Midnight shudder as the cold air swirled around him.

Midnight and Truffle stood there and watched as the Mudwing disappeared behind the rooftops of the other buildings, both of them silent for a moment. Midnight flinched as he felt a talon poke his shoulder, Truffle looking at him with an inquisitive look.

"So what are we doing anyway?" Truffle asked not unkindly. Midnight thought for a moment. Really, he didn't know exactly what to do, all he knew was he wanted another interesting day, and so far the last few days had been so eventful that he wanted to keep the streak going. While the idea of interacting with new dragons was alarming to him, he couldn't help but admit that maybe Truffle's mischievousness had rubbed off on him.

"I'm not sure, just anything but sit inside all day," he said with a smile.

Truffle regarded him for a moment before speaking. "You sure? It's much warmer inside?" For a moment Midnight's emotions crashed. Truffle was right, was it random that he was reaching out like this? Why was he so careless, he had just started being friends with Truffle and now here he was knocking on his door!

"I'm just kidding, lets go," Truffle said with a laugh as he started his way down the street, much to Midnight's relief.

Ugh, he had to be more confident.

They found themselves walking past the school as the streets began to fill with dragons. The morning sun had risen high enough that the western mountains were now illuminated in orange sunlight, the reflection shining down brilliantly onto the town as it bounced off the snow and the wet stones, the scene bright and magnificent as the streets came to life.

"Is it always this cold?" asked Truffle with a shudder as they made their way to a freshly lit brazier that was on the corner of a street. "No, not usually," Midnight replied as they made it to their destination, the warmth of the flames illuminating his scales comfortably. Truffle reared onto his hind legs and reached his front talons forward, rubbing them together in front of the fire to get warm.

"This is about as cold as it gets," continued Midnight. "With the combination of that storm and the night with a clear sky, it cooled down fast." Truffle nodded as he dropped back onto all fours. "Well, that's good, I don't think I could ever get used to this," he said as he curled his tail around and rapidly started poking holes in an innocent pile of snow on the street corner.

Midnight observed him with mild apprehension, the fire soothing his scales. "What are you doing?" he asked after a moment.

"Stabbing the cold," Truffle replied, completely serious. "Hmm..." Midnight replied absently as he turned his attention elsewhere. He watched as dragons milled past, a mix of orange and red scales as different Skywings went about their lives. Looking across the clearing that surrounded the school, he noticed two very unique dragons talking by a storefront, two Icewings that Midnight hadn't seen yet.

"Want to introduce yourself?" Truffle suddenly interjected right next to Midnight, making him flinch in surprise. "After all, we might as well be the new welcoming party for Clementine. You think they'd pay us for that?"

Midnight just let out a small laugh and shook his head. "I think I'll pass, and I don't know who 'they' would be or why they would pay us for that, but I'm sure Clementine doesn't need a welcoming party."

Midnight squinted his eyes as he noticed something strange. The Icewings were now looking toward him and speaking between themselves, and then suddenly they both started making their way through the crowd toward them.

"Umm... what's going on?" Truffle said as he watched the Icewings too. "I have no clue," Midnight replied as he took a step backward. "This is weird."

Eventually, the Icewings made their way over to them. Midnight observed them as they stepped forward through the crowd. They were both a little older than Midnight, around two to three years Midnight assumed. The one on the right was smaller than the left. She had grayer scales than other Icewings that Midnight had seen, her colors being closer to what Midnight could only describe as a cloudy sky. She also had what seemed to be a newer-than-old scar curling down her neck, starting near her jaw and going the full length of her neck to her shoulder. It looked at least a few weeks old. The dragon on the left was male. His scales were a more traditional silvery-white, his build sleek and athletic. This dragon looked like they could outpace Midnight in just about anything.

"Greetings," said the male superficially. Midnight and Truffle quickly glanced at each other, both of them equally confused and feeling deja vu from their interaction the day before with Adélie.

"Hey," replied Midnight and Truffle at the same time.

"My name is Pyka, and my friend here is Lucia," said taller Icewing with a slight bow of his head. "Are you the blacksmith's son?"

Midnight barely contained his surprise. That had been detailed. First of all, few saw him at the shop because when he was there, he was in the back, and secondly, very few knew that he and Finch had any family relations. Almost all dragons just assumed Midnight worked there when they saw him, and he and Finch had only recently begun openly sharing time together publicly because of the only recent-ish liberation from the war being over.

As a result, Midnight just stood there gawking at Pyka, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for a response, questions ebbing at him more than the answer to Pyka's question.

"Forgive me for bluntness," Pyka said after a moment, "I saw you two going home yesterday after you closed the shop. I just had a question related to business is all." Midnight recovered slightly at his statement, but an uncanny feeling of... dread was still hovering in him. Ack, I need to let it go, he saw us together yesterday anyways, Midnight told himself as he cleared his head.

"Yeah, that's me. What is it you were wondering?" he replied shyly.

"Well, you see," started the Icewing as they reached down towards an almost unnoticeable white sheath wrapped around their back left leg. "I have this dagger here, and I was wondering if someone like you could tell me its worth." He unsheathed the dagger, bringing it forward and holding it in front of Midnight, letting it rest on his open palm.

Its blade was pointed and straight, wide at the bottom and collecting into a sharp point, no longer than Midnight's forearm. The hilt was dramatically shiny, silver engravings covering it almost entirely, the craftsmanship so precise that Midnight couldn't believe it was possible. The guard of the hilt was made of two sculpted dragons wings, the center a delicately engraved dragon clutching the center of the blade. But that wasn't the weirdest part, the handle was a glass cylinder, the miniature tail of the silver dragon spiraling downward around the handle into a sharp point at the bottom of the dagger. The glass was surrounding a blue center on the inside of the handle.

Midnight's eyes widened. "Um..." he started, completely flabbergasted at the relic sitting in front of him. "That is definitely ornamental," he continued. "I would say it is less of a weapon and more of a... treasure piece. It definitely looks too delicate to be a weapon of any sort," he finished quickly.

Pyka gripped the dagger in his talon, waving it around in the air as he studied it, the blade flashing in the sunlight as he twisted and turned it. "I believe it's ceremonial..." he said quietly as he held it in the light.

"Here, catch!" he said completely out of nowhere as he tossed the dagger into the air toward Midnight. His eyes widened in panic as the beautiful dagger took flight, spinning through the air toward him, its shiny appearance sending dazzling sparkles everywhere as it caught the sunlight. In what seemed to be in slow motion, Midnight reached out to catch it. The amount of care that had gone into it meant it was unconditionally expensive, and now Midnight was the only dragon between the dagger and total possible destruction.

Much to his relief though, Midnight felt his talon close on the dagger as it spun in mid-air, saving it from crashing to the ground. There was one problem though.

He had caught it by the blade.

"AHHH!" Midnight yelled in pain as he felt the sharpness of the dagger cut into his scales. He immediately let go and shook his talon, the dagger clattering to the cobbles below.

Midnight held his talon up and looked at it. There was a small cut across the center of his palm, red blood slowly running down his talon and dripping off the end of his claw.

"I am so sorry," Midnight heard from in front of him. He looked up to see Pyka standing there once again with the dagger in his talon, it completely unharmed from the fall. "You might want to get that fixed up though," he continued as he glanced at Midnight's bleeding talon.

But Midnight didn't hear him, Midnight could only feel the sting of the cut on his palm. He felt dizzy, a wave of heat washing over him as vertigo made him blink a few times. Then everything began to feel... fuzzy. Pins and needles filled the limbs of his body, starting from his claw-tips and wingtips, washing over him until he could no longer feel anything from the neck down. Sounds sounded muffled and his vision was blurry as he scrambled mentally to stay in the present. A splitting headache slammed into Midnight's head. He would have flinched from the suddenness, but he couldn't move, let alone feel his body.

And then he heard what sounded like an exhale, the sound subtle and barely noticeable, the only reason he noticed it was because everything was on mute. Midnight strained his hearing, curiosity and... dread filling him. He heard an inhale, so close that it was as if the voice was pressed right up against his ear. And then he heard the quietest whisper:

"Take your blood."

And then it all came rushing back. Midnight was standing there, talon raised, the blood slowly dripping down onto the cobble below. Pyka stood in front of him, a brow raised as he observed Midnight. "Yeah that must hurt," he said in a monotone, only the mildest amount of concern on his face.

Yeah, you think!? Midnight said in his head bitterly. And what in the world was that? How much time had passed? Why did these things happen to him— did Finch drop his egg? Did he get bonked on the head one day and not remember it at all? Midnight was frustrated. How was he supposed to walk on this?

And above all, the Icewing's face was frustratingly stoic, only the mildest concern present in his eyes. "I'm sorry, didn't mean for that to happen," he said again as he re-sheathed the dagger.

"Yeah yeah..." muttered Midnight quietly. The cut wasn't bad, but it was entirely and very inconvenient, and it hurt. "It's worth a lot," he said, motioning toward the dagger. He turned towards Truffle, who was looking at the whole situation with a raised brow, completely taken aback by what had just happened. Truffle turned towards the Icewings gesturing to Midnight's talon.

"We're gonna go get this fixed up," he said simply as he wrapped a wing around Midnight to guide him away before he could object.

For what was probably the first time in his life, Midnight felt like lashing out at someone. That had been entirely deliberate, or at least undoubtedly stupid, and yet he couldn't entirely blame them. He had caught the dagger in the goofiest way he could have. Midnight turned his head as he walked away with Truffle, glancing back at the Icewing duo. They were standing there, watching him leave, their eyes never leaving his as he rounded the corner of the street.

"Be seeing you," Midnight heard faintly from behind him once they were out of sight.

AN: Hey guys and happy holidays. It is so close to Christmas and I hope all of you are having a great week.

Midnight isn't very happy, and things are just getting weirder and weirder. What do you think is going on? Leave a review if you want to share your theory.

Also, feel free to let me know what you think of the story so far.

-BadFutures