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DARKSTALKER

"Now Fathom, before you say anything —"

"— What did you do?!"

"She's okay, don't freak out."

"She's gone!"

"No she's not." Darkstalker shot a grin back at Fathom — who now looked adorably horrified — and took a step towards the goblet. "She just moved."

Before he could explain himself further, Listener's voice rang out. "Hello?" It was a dry echoey voice, as if it were being spoken from the other side of a long metal pipe. And it was coming from the goblet.

"Listener!" Darkstalker said happily. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But your voice is really weird. It sounds like it's coming from my chest or something."

"Really?" Darkstalker bubbled out a laugh. Not what I intended, but that is totally awesome.

Listener echoed back a laugh of her own. "Stop laughing, it tickles!"

That only caused Darkstalker to laugh harder, which only caused Listener to laugh harder. Darkstalker pressed his talons to his snout to muffle his delighted voice.

"Darkstalker," Fathom interjected. When Darkstalker looked over at him, he still looked like he was staring at death itself. "Where is she?"

Darkstalker cleared his throat and exhaled the last of his laughs. "Right, right, we should probably let everyone know that." He directed his attention back to the empty goblet and said, "Listener: can you see anything?"

"I think so…" she answered hesitantly. "I think I see some lights … and a ceiling …."

"And what are you standing on?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out. It's like a … giant golden bowl."

"Is it a giant bowl?" Darkstalker asked. "Or are you just a tiny dragon now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Try climbing out of the goblet."

"The goblet? But it's so —" She let out an audible gasp. "— Darkstalker! This is the one you gave to the scavengers!"

"That's right," Darkstalker said, grinning widely. "Are you in one of their huts? What do you see?"

"I see scavengers!"

Darkstalker scrambled closer to the goblet and leaned into it. "What are they doing?" he asked.

"I think I can see two of them talking, but they sound totally different. Their voices are so much — wait, can they hear me?"

"No, they can't," Darkstalker said. "They can't see you either. But they can touch you, so don't get too reckless. If you need to teleport back here, put your talons on your head and say, 'get me out of here.'"

"Um, Darkstalker?" Fathom asked, finally sounding like he'd gotten over that silly panic attack of his. "Could you explain what's going on?"

"Of course," Darkstalker said, turning to face Fathom. It's about time he let his curiosity show. There was this trapped voice in the back of his mind that was reaching out with all of its might, begging for a friendship with Darkstalker. It was being drowned out by Fathom's overwhelming fear of magic, but it was endlessly resilient. And it was getting louder and louder the more curious he got.

He hadn't planned on showing Listener her new toy with Fathom in the room, but he didn't want to wait until later. Perhaps, he thought, he could kill two birds with one stone. He could start to encourage Fathom to open up, but on the other talon he could also start to help Fathom reassociate animus magic with something good once again. "Do you know why I wasn't able to make it to your welcoming party?" he asked.

"The queen said you were doing some sort of personal project," Fathom said.

"It was because my friends and I were on a very important mission. My school had imprisoned a number of scavengers for the students to study — leaving them miserable and keeping them locked in little cages where other dragons would torment them while they were trying to sleep."

Fathom tilted his head. "Aren't scavengers those annoying furless monkeys that live in colonies?"

"They're not annoying!" Listener protested. "They're adorable and super smart!"

Darkstalker nodded. "Listener's right. We know because we've listened to their thoughts. I don't think they're quite as smart as us, but they're definitely self-aware."

"So you tried to free them?" Fathom guessed.

"We did free them," Darkstalker corrected. "Just a few hours ago. There wasn't any school today, so we snuck in and gathered all the trapped scavengers and brought them back to a little den tucked away in the forest."

"Which you can't tell anyone about, by the way," Listener said sternly. "We'll get in huge trouble if they catch us."

"Aren't they going to catch you eventually?" Fathom asked. "Once somebody reads your mind, they'll find out you did it."

"You learn to avoid letting certain thoughts slip after a while when you're in a NightWing society," Darkstalker explained. "We'll be safe as long as we keep the teachers from suspecting us."

"Which is actually less likely than you might think," Clearsight warned.

"Well — even if we do get caught, we've already done the deed," Darkstalker said proudly. "Those scavengers are free again. They were welcomed into the scavenger den, safe and sound. And, as a gesture of my good will, I gave them a small golden chalice — just like this one on my bed, but tiny enough for a scavenger to use instead of a dragon."

Fathom frowned at that. Somehow I'm getting the feeling that you gave it to them for more than just the purpose of good will, he thought.

"Of course, I did add an enchantment to it," Darkstalker said slyly. "A completely harmless spell," he quickly added, noting Fathom's immediate tensing up.

"A totally awesome spell, I'd say!" Listener added. "I wish you could see what I was seeing right now."

"The enchantment teleports Listener from this goblet to the one I gave the scavengers," Darkstalker explained. "But it also makes her very small, so that she can study the scavengers more discreetly. Right now, she's a little bit smaller than a scavenger's head."

"I think I can hear them better now that I'm smaller, too," Listener added. "Remember how I told you before that I think they have their own language? Well, I'm pretty sure I can actually hear them speaking it."

"What are they saying?" Fathom asked.

"How should I know? It's not like they're speaking Dragon. But there's definitely a pattern to what they're saying."

"How many scavengers can you see?" Darkstalker asked.

"Just two right now, and neither of them are the ones we rescued. I can't really tell what's going on in their heads. All I can really read from their thoughts are a couple of short memories, and … aww, they just left."

"Come on back, then," Darkstalker said, taking a step back to leave a bit of space in front of the goblet.

"Alright…. Get me out of here."

A moment later, Listener was back, standing right where she was before, completely unharmed. She looked around her, and let out a happy sigh. "Whoo! That is so awesome, Darkstalker! Do I really get to keep this?"

"Absolutely," Darkstalker said to her. "It was your idea to free the scavengers, after all. You should get the opportunity to study them."

Listener's eyes glittered at him. "Thank you! I'll cherish it forever. Except, I don't know how I'm going to bring this back to my house without my parents asking about it. They probably won't be too thrilled about me having an animus enchanted item."

"I can hold onto it until you've figured something out," Darkstalker said. "In the meantime, we should probably be sending Prince Fathom home. He must be exhausted."

Fathom actually smiled a little bit, looking thankful. "It's been a very long day," he agreed.

"I'll be sure to come visit you tomorrow," Darkstalker told him. "I need to make it up to you for missing the party. Do you know your way back to the palace?"

"I think so," Fathom said.

"You should ask Foeslayer to escort you," Clearsight said, looking concerned. "Just to make sure you get back safely."

"I can do that," Indigo said, making her way out. "I need to get my weapons back from Arctic too. Which reminds me —" She turned back and glared at Darkstalker. "Darkstalker, don't invite us here again. I need to be armed when you're around Fathom."

Darkstalker let out a fake smile. This dragon was trouble. He knew that she was going to threaten his life because Clearsight had warned him about that ahead of time, but that spear still rattled him. He didn't know yet how he was going to deal with her.

Clearsight had also told him about the things he did to Indigo in the previous timeline. Entrapping her in a little wooden dragon sounded terrible when he'd heard it, but now that he met her, he was starting to see the justification.

He could do better this time, though. He didn't need Indigo to become an enemy that needed to be disposed of. Instead, he could turn her into an ally. He could gain her trust, just like how he knew he could gain Fathom's trust too. All he needed was time and a little bit of charm.

"When I see you at the palace, you can point that spear at me all you want," Darkstalker said to her right before she crossed the doorway. "So you'll have that to look forward to tomorrow. Oh — by the way, you never told us your name."

"Because you don't need to know it," she answered dismissively, without breaking a step.

When she was out of sight, Fathom spoke up. "Her name's Indigo. She's my main bodyguard. The other two waiting outside are Wharf and Lionfish." Darkstalker could feel a bit of embarrassment stirring in his head, which he had to keep himself from smiling at. "I'm sorry about the way she's treating you," he said. "She takes her job very seriously."

"I understand," Darkstalker said. "I'm sure you're also familiar with dragons treating you unfairly because of your powers. Here's hoping our friendship will push back against that." He extended a talon for Fathom to shake.

With a friendly face, Fathom shook it. "I'm glad you see it that way," he said.

And it wasn't until Fathom let go that he appeared to realize that he shook Darkstalker's talon then and there. The smile slowly ran away from his face, and he stood up straighter. "Actually, wait a minute," he said. "Darkstalker, I'm not treated unfairly. I'm treated like I'm dangerous, because that's exactly what I am."

Darkstalker deflated a little. "Oh, Fathom —"

"Our powers aren't safe," he said. "They could destroy us. They could destroy everyone we love. Please, Darkstalker: don't let your soul get eaten away. If you really want to be my friend, promise me you'll never use your powers again."

"Are you serious?!" Listener suddenly said. "But look at what he just made for me! Look at how amazing it is!"

"It might be exciting now, but every enchantment is costing him a little bit more of his soul," Fathom told her. "You might not know when he's turning evil until it's too late."

Hmm. This would be tricky. Fathom was so full of fear and guilt. He seemed to be able to distract himself from it, but it was still there. And as long as it was still there, he wouldn't fully trust him.

He ought to be able to fix that. Fathom had forgotten how amazing his gift could be, but with Darkstalker's help, he could remember again. And once he did, their friendship would be legendary. Darkstalker could have the support of the next most powerful dragon in the world. He just needed to play his cards right.

As for his bodyguard, Indigo — she might be a tougher nut to crack, but Darkstalker was hopeful that the problem she posed would take care of itself. He was lucky that she made that threat of hers in front of everybody else. She didn't make any friends with that move. Now she would have to stay on her toes when others were around her — and hopefully in the process, she would end up bending a little.

He got the eerie feeling that Indigo had saved herself by making that mistake. If she proved that she would always be a source of trouble, then Darkstalker would have to find a way to get rid of her the way he apparently did last time. And given how much Fathom obviously loved her, he really didn't want to do that. By the way the futures looked, she wasn't going to be so motivated to get in his way now.

"You're asking me to make a very big promise, Fathom," Darkstalker told him. "I can't give up animus magic simply because you want me to. But you've convinced me to be more careful. I'll stop using my powers as frivolously as I have been. And I'll make sure Clearsight keeps a close eye on the future."

Fathom shrank a little. "Are you just saying that?" he asked.

"I'm serious," Darkstalker said. "You're not the first dragon to worry about my soul. I've always tried to be cautious with my magic, but perhaps I've grown too careless lately. It means a lot to hear another animus dragon worry about me in the same way." He started to walk out of his room. "Now, let's get you back to the palace. I want to show you the view from the Royal Tower tomorrow."

He brightened his face as he showed Fathom to the door. This was a delightfully productive surprise indeed. Despite the poor SeaWing's worries, Darkstalker could still hear that voice calling out louder than ever in his mind — a voice begging for companionship, hoping that the two of them would get along.

Darkstalker wanted that too. He could see all of the amazing memories the two of them would share once Fathom opened up to him. He could see all that self-loathing and guilt of his slowly fading away. He could see this friendship blossoming into so much happiness for the both of them.

He almost found himself wanting that more than he wanted the Night Kingdom. Being king of the NightWings would have been great, but he had to become king the way he wanted to. And that way involved keeping his friendship with Fathom.

He needed that friendship first. The Kingdom could wait.