Chapter Forty-Nine

The halls of the IceWing Palace were silent. Not in the peaceful sense, but in the way of stillness before a great crash. Every guard, every servant, every attendant, every courtier, they all were still and holding their breath, waiting in suspense for that moment when their whole world would collapse.

When the doctors would announce that Queen Glacier was dead.

Crystal didn't want to think like that, but the thoughts wouldn't leave no matter how hard she tried to shake them. Mother had been brought back to the palace in such a state, carried in on a stretcher, barely coherent, with snow packed into a wound on her side to stop her from bleeding out. In the hours that had passed since, Crystal had been waiting outside her mother's chambers along with her sister, Snowfall, listening to the sounds of their mother roaring or groaning in pain, and the footfalls of doctors rushing around. Occasionally a nurse would rush in or out, carrying buckets of bloody rags or ferrying in supplies. Their littlest sister, Mink, had been here as well, despite Crystal wanting to spare her this pain. She had insisted on being here, but eventually had grown too tired as the night wore on. Crystal had ordered a few guards to carry her to bed once midnight had passed.

Footfalls came and Crystal had to bite back a groan when she realised it was uncle Narwhal and two other members of mother's council. They were obviously here because they were awaiting the inevitable - and that just made Crystal angry, how they were hovering like vultures before mother's body had even grown stiff. At least Narwhal had the decency to look a little distressed. He'd been there when the NightWing assassin ambushed mother; he'd brought her home. Crystal wanted to demand details of the attack, to scream at Narwhal for letting this happen, for not bringing her home sooner.

Instead, she settled for a very tired grumble: "Prince Narwhal. Lord Blizzard, General Krill."

Snowfall's head snapped toward them, evidently she hadn't heard them approach. The way she stared at them was honestly frightening, looking at them head on, showing off a scar that ran down her brow over one eye and cheek. It was an old wound Snowfall had sustained during the war about a year ago. Thankfully the wound hadn't claimed her eyesight in that eye, but she loved to use it to add to her intimidation. Before Crystal could even think of stopping her, Snowfall jumped up, spines rattling and teeth barely covered.

"You dare to come here?!" she demanded. "Get out. You're not wanted here."

"Princess, please," urged Narwhal in a surprisingly soft tone. Crystal could just tell that he disapproved of Snowfall's lack of poise and protocol, but he was masking it well. "We need to be here, to announcing the… the passing of the qu-"

"The Queen will address you once she's recovered!"

"If she recovers," mumbled Lord Blizzard.

Before Snowfall could leap onto the old dragon and tear his face off, Crystal stood, naturally putting herself between the dividing factions. Her voice, always calm and cool, had a hard edge to it, a warning. "It is treason to speak of this. The physicians have yet to give their prognosis, so until that time comes we will continue to hold our loyalty to Her Majesty, your Queen."

"And so we shall," nodded Narwhal. "But we should at least discuss what might happen should the worst come to pass. I know my sister. She would not want her daughters to divide us the way the SandWing sisters did."

Crystal blinked. She hadn't even thought of that. Why had it just been a given in her mind that either mother would live or she would take the throne? Panic seized her heart. The memory of broad warm-brown shoulders and a kind face with golden eyes filled her mind. It made her soul ache. She quickly banished the thought, terrified her face would give her away. The idea of having the throne - her birthright since before she could even conceptualise what that meant - suddenly terrified her. But what was more disturbing was the idea that she and her two sisters might end up just like the SandWing sisters. Could that be possible? Snowfall was ruthless but she had always been completely loyal to their mother and the tribe. And Mink? Mink had always been the darling of the kingdom ever since she was a dragonet. Not even the harsh regime of IceWing upbringing in the circles had stripped her of that outgoing friendliness that made everyone love her. It felt impossible to envision a world where Crystal was forced to fight them.

The door to Glacier's chambers opened, breaking the stalemate that had fallen over the group. The doctor stepped out, looking tired. Crystal felt dread form like a rolling snowball in her gut, getting bigger with every second that passed. When he didn't speak right away, Narwhal snapped: "Well? Speak!"

"Is mother okay?" Snowfall asked right after.

"Her Majesty lives - for now," said the doctor, his voice a little hoarse. "I have cleaned the wound and stitched her together - if this were any other injury, I would say she will make a full recovery, given time."

"What does that mean?" Crystal narrowed her eyes.

The doctor sighed, deflating. "Judging by her symptoms, I have every reason to suspect that the blade which caused this injury was poisoned."

"Well, can't you undo that?!" Snowfall's voice sounded strangled.

"I'm afraid there are not enough cases of sophisticated poisonings in the Ice Kingdom for us to have remedies on hand," said the doctor gently. "And even if we did, I do not know which poison I am working with - or if it's not any combination of poisons. Without that knowledge, how am I to know that the antidote I administer won't set off some other effect?"

Narwhal's eyes were wide with fear. "There is also the possibility that this is not a natural poison."

Yes, the cloud that was hanging over them all. The assassin had declared that this attack had been at the behest of the Darkstalker. Crystal hadn't thought of it, but Narwhal was right - what if this was some magical poison that would kill Glacier no matter how many antidotes they gave her?

"So what do we do?" Crystal heard herself ask, her voice low and husky with held back tears.

The doctor made a gesture like he was just as lost as she was. "I will do everything I can to keep her Majesty stable. Aside from that… pray and hope we can find some unexplained miracle."

Snowfall threw Crystal a significant look, her eyes communicating a secret message. Crystal shook her head. Yes, she too had thought maybe the Royal Vault filled with IceWing Animus artefacts might help. But no, Crystal knew almost every gift in that Vault and the best healing gift available to them was the pair of horns that cured frostbreath injuries. That wouldn't save mother.

"Her Majesty is asking for you," came the words that Crystal almost didn't hear. The doctor moved aside, and the two sisters stepped into the room. Thankfully Narwhal and the others were kept out.

Crystal immediately shut off her nose to block out the smell of blood and death that hung over the room like the shroud of a spectral figure, hovering, waiting. Glacier was laid out upon her bed, bandages wrapped around her middle, already stained with streaks of blue and black. The queen, always so strong, never seeming to even break a sweat in the middle of battle, now lay with her eyes half closed, her breathing rattling in her throat. She just looked so… frail.

The sisters crowded at her bedside. They exchanged a look - did they hold her talon or say anything? Memories flooded Crystal's mind, of nuzzling under her mother's wing when she'd been a dragonet. Glacier had been an exemplary mother. Even when life in the First Circle was hard and proving yourself constantly was a brutal strain, Glacier was always there to guide and teach. Even as a Princess, Crystal never felt like anything was handed to her, Glacier made sure she earned her place but never sadistically. When she would fail, Glacier would tell her how to improve, give her the confidence to try again. And behind closed doors, away from the judging eyes of court, Glacier had always shown her children nothing but the greatest love. Open affection and laughter always filled their halls.

It made Glacier seem infallible. Only a giant among dragons could manage to be such a great Queen, a great warlord, and a good mother. It was impossible to believe that something like this could bring her down. If someone like Glacier could be brought low, then what did that mean for the rest of them?

Glacier's eyes came into focus, like waking from a daydream, and she turned her head just a touch to look upon her two eldest daughters. When she spoke, her voice was breathy and strained. "My girls… I'm s-sorry."

"Don't be!" said Snowfall fiercely. "This is all Darkstalker's fault! He did this to you! I promise you mother, I will take our armies to that Lost City - wherever it is, exactly - and I will avenge you!"

"How?" Crystal couldn't stop the word from coming out bitterly. "From Winter's report, it's somewhere beyond Darkstalker's Teeth. IceWings can't cross those mountains."

"We'll find a way! We have to bring them all to justice for everything they've done!"

"Enough," a hint of Glacier's usual force returned for only a second before she devolved into a fit of coughs. "E-Enough… My daughters, you need to promise me… promise…"

Crystal gripped her mother's talon tightly in her own. There was still life in her flesh, if she could just hold on to that, she might be able to keep her mother here through sheer will. "Promise what, mother?"

"You… you must not… fight. Do not divide our kingdom like… like the SandWing sisters. That must never happen." Glacier pulled up her head, her brow creased with the effort, but she defied her own weakness so that she could look her daughters in the eye. "I will choose my successor, and you must promise me to accept whoever… whoever I…"

"We will, mother," said Crystal. "We promise."

Snowfall looked both angry and terrified. "But what about tradi-"

"But you can pick later," Crystal hurriedly continued. "The physician said we still have time. For now, you need to rest."

There was a moment where Snowfall seemed confused, like two paths were laid out before her and she had no idea where to go. But then she seemed to catch on to what Crystal was saying and held her mother's talon as well. "That's right! We're gonna beat this, mother! We will find a way to make you better - we're going to try every trick we can think of, every medicine, no matter how unorthodox. You hear me?"

Glacier gave one weak laugh. Likely she knew her daughters were bluffing and were just trying to keep her spirits up. As she laid down again, her eyes closing and her breathing returning to its shaky rattle, she let out just a few whispered words. "I am proud… of you… both,"

Crystal had to bite her tongue to hold back tears. What if these were the last words her mother ever said? What if she…? It was hard to even finish the thought. In that moment, Crystal wanted nothing more than to flee this palace, flee the kingdom, and hide away in the arms of the only dragon who could ever comfort her. What would Gharial do, she asked herself. She always thought clearly when she was with him, the world never seemed to hold many obstacles in his eyes. Nothing like circles or tradition or expectations held him back. If something seemed like an answer, he would go for it.

With their mother now resting, Crystal and Snowfall quietly withdrew from her chambers. Thankfully Narwhal and the others were not waiting for them in the hallway. The princesses came out of the room looking as if they had aged ten years in just a few minutes. But there would be no rest for them, not yet. And especially not for Crystal, as an idea began to form in her mind.

"Snowfall," she said quietly. "You're right."

"I am?"

"Yes. We need to do everything we can to beat this. No matter what. The doctors can't do anything, and if this is the work of the Darkstalker then we need to ask the one dragon who seems to know more about him than any other."

Snowfall's eyes widened. "Winter? Have you lost your mind? He's all the way in Jade mountain!"

"Then I'd better make a head start," Crystal nodded.

She went to walk away, but Snowfall grabbed her shoulder. "You?! No! Send someone else, a messenger!"

"And you know none of them are as fast as me," Or as desperate, she wanted to add.

"But you're the eldest!" Snowfall blurted, and for the first time in years, Crystal was reminded of the little dragonet she had been, yelling about how unfair it was that all her playmates had to leave to go to war… "You have to lead us."

"No." Crystal brushed her wing along her sister's, and watching eyes be damned, she pulled her into an embrace. Snowfall stiffened, unable to comprehend how to respond. "You can do this. Make sure they keep Mother alive until I return. If anyone can fight off death, it's you."

"I… I won't let you down," Snowfall whispered.

The sisters parted and before Crystal left to fly thousands of miles as fast as she could, she said one last thing over her shoulder: "And wake Mink. Let her be here to speak with mother before…"

Snowfall nodded.

And with that, Crystal ran for the nearest exit, leaping into the black sky. Thank the Ice, for there was a strong wing heading south and it helped to boost her on her way as she soared through the freezing clouds. Straight and true as an arrow she flew, the only thought in her head was to fly as fast as possible towards Jade Mountain, and to the only hope she had of saving her mother.

The moons were bright through her window, and Moon lay there for a while marveling silently at the way the moonbeams shimmered through her window-glass. She couldn't sleep any more, her self-made nest felt too confining, and her eyes had spent every tear she had to shed. Her grief had so overtaken her, it had ripped through her like a tropical storm, fierce and overwhelming all at once. And now that the worst of it had passed, she was left with nothing but stillness and silence.

I cannot lay here anymore, she thought to herself. If nothing else, she should get up to stretch her legs. It almost felt as bad to think that she laid here for days without moving. Did that make her a slob? She tried to banish the thought, just her own mind being cruel at a time when she least needed it. It would do her some good to get fresh air, she told herself. She could get her own food, maybe stretch her wings a little.

Pretend, keep it secret and hidden, was a mantra she repeated inside her own head. Her grief was like a monster lurking behind a door in her mind, waiting to wash back over her the moment she let it. The world still didn't seem to fit right in her mind, not after everything she'd lost so recently. But these small pieces of normality helped to conjure a make-believe world where everything was okay at the very least.

Walking out of her room felt strange - not using her legs much for a few days made walking seem foreign. Braziers burned bright as she walked the halls, warm and comforting. As Moon descended down the stairways, her mind began to pick up stray whispers of thoughts, lots of them. For a moment she was confused - who were all these dragons she was hearing? And then she remembered - Darkstalker had invited back all the NightWings to the Lost City. That meant they were all here now… Moon wasn't sure how to feel about that. She'd spent her whole life away from the majority of her tribe that she didn't know how to interact with them. Would any of them recognise her? What would they think of her?

Moon soon found out. As she came down to one of the balconies overlooking the main halls, she came across her first glimpse of the tribe. They were bustling about, carrying things to and fro, a couple even held spears and were decorated with shoulder pauldrons to make them look like royal guards. Curiosity bloomed in Moon: she wanted to know them, what they were doing, were they happy here, did they like all the preparations she'd made for them? At the same time, there was this apprehension in her gut. This Kingdom was once all hers, and now it was filled with an entire tribe. It felt like both a dream come true and an invasion.

Hesitantly, she made her way down to them. She first passed a NightWing male carrying a stack of cloth. Moon gave him a little wave and mumbled "Hi?" The NightWing froze, staring at her, his thoughts racing so fast Moon couldn't keep up with them. The last thing that she managed to catch was a frenzied: Must get Darkstalker! And then he was hurrying away from her, completely dropping his stack in the process. Moon tried not to feel insulted and carried on.

She decided to make her way down to the kitchens directly. She passed several NightWings and thought she could just greet them politely. Maybe it wasn't yet time for her to be introduced to them fully. But with every NightWing she passed, she could hear their thoughts resounding inside her head. None of it was flattering.

That's HER. Moonwatcher. Morrowseer's daughter. The traitor.

What if she's just like her father?

She could see all this coming! She knew everything that was gonna happen. That's kinda scary.

I heard she killed him; that she ordered the Darkstalker to kill him.

She's got the Darkstalker wrapped around her little claw. What a hussy.

It was hard keeping Moon's composure at that one, she had to admit. She wanted to scream and rage - the wrath she felt at such an insult was quite unexpected. But Moon smoothed over her emotions, held her head high and shoved each and every voice into a raindrop. They were not going to get the better of her.

Managing to get to the ground floor, Moon maintained an air of aloofness, and it worked a little to help her blend in. It was like a shroud that cloaked her presence, making it so other eyes passed over her, like she was little more than a smudge on the canvas of their vision. Of course they noticed her - Moon would be a fool to think otherwise. But at least they weren't gawking at her. She was halfway between the throne room and the kitchens when she heard music inside her head, delightful and beautiful. A smile was already on her face before she even turned to see Darkstalker's joyous expression.

"Moon!" he exclaimed, sweeping her up in his wings in a quick embrace. When he released her, the questions began. "Are you alright? I mean, it's great to see you out and about. I just wanna make sure you're-"

She held up a talon, the urge to laugh was there, if somewhat heavy. "Yes, Darkstalker, I'm fine. I just needed to… get out of my room for a little while."

"Of course," he said, his eyes softening. "Would you like me to walk with you for a while?"

Moon noticed that every NightWing that passed by them openly stared at Darkstalker. From his tall stature to his impressive wingspan to even the slightest flick of his tail. Each of their eyes were filled with a mixture of awe and slight fear. Inevitably they also stared at Moon too, as she stood so close to the ghost that had haunted their tribe for two millennia so casually. She couldn't tell if Darkstalker noticed or if he was just unbothered by them. She decided to follow his example. "That would be nice, yes. I'm on my way to the kitchens, actually."

"Ah," he gave an awkward smile, scratching his neck. "It might be a little too crowded down there right now. We weren't exactly prepared for a lot of guests, so a lot of the NightWings have been foraging, hunting, gathering and preparing food so that everyone is fed. The council decided to make that their top priority."

"Oh," Moon hadn't even thought of that, but it seemed the most obvious and logical step for the tribe to take first. Perhaps she would come back later - she didn't quite feel up to pushing her way through a crowd of busy dragons.

"But don't worry," Darkstalker said quickly. "I can get you something - take this." He handed her a silver plate, with white moons in several different phases decorating the edges. "Hold it steady and say a food you would like."

Confused for a moment, Moon closed her eyes and said: "I would like some peeled mangoes please." She heard a soft pop, and opened her eyes to find three perfectly ripe and peeled mangoes laying on the plate in front of her.

Darkstalker chuckled, "Saying please to a plate?" He impaled one mango with a claw and lifted it to his mouth, swallowing it whole, his tongue licking his finger clean of juice. "Mmm, good choice though."

Her smile was less strained this time, and she too indulged in the delicious fruit. The flavour practically exploded on her tongue. She definitely took note of Darkstalker's flippant use of magic for something seemingly trivial, but she put it off as something he was just doing to cheer her up.

"Oh, I also wanted to give you this," and he produced in his other talon, the silver and diamond earring nestled in his palm. Moon stared at it wide eyed, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. "I know how much your privacy means to you. But if this particular earring brings up too many bad memories, I can get you something else, or-"

"No," she said and delicately reached for the jewelry. The ragged cut her father had made in her ear when he'd wrenched the earring off her had been healed when Darkstalker saved her life. Yes, it held a lot of memories, but it also felt like a part of her now. She was naked without it. With a familiar pinch, it was back in place, dangling from her ear.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and Moon realised there were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away.

"Yes." She took a deep breath, and then another, putting the make-believe facade back into place. "I can be okay… I just… need a distraction, I think."

"Then we will do that!" Darkstalker said, seemingly happy to be of use. He started walking down the corridor, and Moon naturally fell into step beside him.

"Lord Darkstalker!" shouted a voice. The pair paused as a smaller NightWing came running towards them. His eyes were bright, but half of his face was covered in bandages. Moon saw in his mind: a RainWing, her mouth wide and spitting venom to stop him sounding the alarm, her eyes filled with panic, her scales shifting many different colours. But Moon recognised the structure of her face - Kinkajou?! The NightWing bowed his head a little. "The council would like to discuss certain matters with you. And um…" the young male stared at Moon, a little wary, and Moon once again saw into his mind and realised that he used to work for her father, and he was wondering if she would be just the same.

"This is Moon," introduced Darkstalker. "Tell the council I will be with them shortly, and also tell them that Moon is my fellow advisor and associate - appointed by the Queen herself."

I am? Moon asked him telepathically, a little alarmed.

Yes, Queen Greatness told me herself yesterday. I think it's great. Gives us a formal excuse to backtalk each other with no 'protocol' dragging us down. Darkstalker chuckled warmly inside her head. And then he said, "Also tell them that Moon is to be the Keeper of the Great Library. She is more familiar with it than any other NightWing here and she was a great teacher in Jade Mountain, so it's only natural that her workstation be there."

Moon felt speechless but also felt her insides blooming with warmth. Maybe it was selfish, but it felt good that she was allowed to keep one part of the old kingdom just for herself. And the praise for her teaching abilities made her feel a little more like herself. She asked for a distraction, and she supposed giving her work and a purpose was as good a distraction as any. It felt uplifting, having a direction to strive for.

The young dragon nodded and then hurried to relay the message. With him gone, Darkstalker and Moon walked onward again in comfortable silence for a while. They came out of the Castle of Stars and walked down the great steps to the diamond quarter. Moon saw dragons flying across the sky, busying themselves with work. It felt surreal, like she was stepping back in time or seeing the Night Kingdom in Darkstalker's memories.

"How is everyone settling in?" she heard herself asking.

"It's been an adjustment for some," Darkstalker said, shrugging his wings. "They're slowly getting used to being nocturnal again. And it's been a challenge to get things up and running, assigning everyone work to do, and all that. But I think they'll be fine."

They turned off the diamond quarter and walked the path up to the great library. Darkstalker opened the doors for her and when Moon stepped inside, the smell of old parchment felt relieving, comforting. The glow of torches and lanterns made her feel warm and invited. Moon went to the great desk in the library's centre and realised that it was all hers now. Officially. If this news had been given to her a week ago, she would've been giddy. Even now it still brought a small smile to her face.

"So what's all this I'm hearing about a 'great council'," she asked, fiddling with an ink pot. "How do you have so much sway over them?"

Darkstalker was on his hind legs to look over the top rows of a bookshelf nearest to her desk, his eyes scanning the titles of the scrolls in their nooks. "I don't really have that much sway. The Queen is gone and decided to leave her trusted allies as a council to rule in her stead until she returns."

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?"

Darkstalker looked around to make sure the coast was clear before he reached out to Moon's mind. There's was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as well as in his voice. You must not breathe a word of this - Greatness is with egg! She left so that she could raise her hatchlings in peace until they're no longer helpless. She'll come back in a year or two and with an heir in tow!

That did surprise her. Really? Who's the father? I didn't even know she was mated!

She kept it secret. But even I don't know who he is. From her thoughts, I think he's most likely dead.

Oh poor Greatness, Moon thought with genuine pity. And then she asked aloud: "So what does this council have to do with you - and me, by extension?"

"Well, considering that you and I are the closest representations of what a true NightWing is, Greatness thought it would be a good idea to have us teach the other NightWings our traditions, our customs, our lands, our powers. No more lessons in how to make others think we're reading minds. Instead, we will teach them where our powers come from, and when a new generation of mind-readers and seers arrives we will teach them how to actually use their gifts."

Once, Moon might've felt daunted by such a prospect. Now, she felt only right. "Good. I don't want any other NightWings to grow up like me. Lost and overwhelmed. Maybe I should write a journal of everything you've taught me, so that others can teach them too."

She flew to one of the back shelves and pulled out a roll of blank parchment. She brought it back down to the desk and dipping her talon in the ink pot, she began to make notes. "I still don't understand how that makes you an advisor?"

She heard Darkstalker chuckle smugly. "Must be my age and wisdom and shockingly good looks."

"Ha, ha." she said sarcastically. "Honestly, aren't you a little worried? I mean… What with what happened before…?"

If her words hurt him, he covered it well, though Moon still felt guilty for the insinuation. "I know what I did back then was wrong. But maybe this is the happy medium? Not a king but not a slave either. Maybe this is how I can use my powers for good. Not to lead, but maybe to guide instead. This is what I was made for, after all…"

That line of thinking didn't sit well with Moon, nor did the distant, melancholic, almost insecure expression on Darkstalker's face. But now wasn't the time to be dragging all this up. Instead, she tried to be lighthearted. "I think you'll do a good job."

His ears pricked up and he looked at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. You're already doing well - if I didn't know any better, I'd say you enchanted them."

"Ha." It was his turn to sound sarcastic. "Or perhaps they feel like they owe me? I brought them here, now maybe they feel like they need to appease me so that I don't turn into the monster of their nightmares." Darkstalker pulled a face, tongue lolling, teeth bared, claws brandished and a "bleh-bleh" noise coming out of his throat. She couldn't stop from giggling, Darkstalker chuckled too, returning to normal, sitting down and leaning against a bookshelf, completely relaxed. A time passed in silence. When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle. "I know it's been through a lot, Moon. And for that I am truly sorry for the role I played in it. But you'll get through this someday. The war is over, the tribe is home, and we're taking steps in the right direction."

"Did you see that in the future?"

"No." And Moon was surprised how honest that was. Darkstalker usually always looked into the future, anxious about going down the right path. To hear that he hadn't this time was… surprisingly impressive. "It just feels right. You'll see. Everything is going to work out."

Everything is going to work out… those words echoed in Moon's head. She believed them, but couldn't help this niggling doubt in the back of her mind. Her vision, the one that had been her motivation in this whole adventure - it still felt unanswered. Some of it had already come true, but other things had not. Darkstalker always told her that the future was subject to change based on a thousand different variables, and she saw only the most likely outcome. Did that mean she had successfully navigated the future and the horrible things she saw in her vision would now not come true? If so, why did she still feel such instinctive dread?

Darkstalker noticed her change in mood, and cocked his head, frowning. "What's wrong?"

She tried to find the right words. "I guess I'm just… confused… My vision, the prophecy - did we really avoid it? There are so many things left unfulfilled. Does that mean we averted the crisis it foretold?"

"I see no other explanation," Darkstalker shrugged. He came over to the desk and poked her snout with a claw. "Don't worry so much, Moon! We did it! The war is over, the NightWings are in their own kingdom and decidedly not doing evil things anymore. The RainWings have their jungle back and the SandWings have their queen. And the sky didn't fall down! Personally, I wouldn't put so much stake in prophecy. I mean, I'm the most powerful seer that's ever lived, and I've never had a prophecy, so it can't be all that great."

Moon scoffed. "Careful, Darkstalker. That almost sounded like you were jealous."

"Pfffft. Pull my other wing."

She studied him for a moment, and felt a penny drop inside her head. "No, I'm serious. It bothers you that you've never had a prophecy of your own? You've never had the voices of your ancestors march through your head?"

His expression went flat, reminding Moon of a pouting dragonet. "Considering that half my ancestors are IceWings, I'm certain they're withholding a prophecy from me out of spite."

She giggled and poked the back of his talon. "Don't worry, I'm sure it'll happen for you. Eventually."

"Oh, just you wait, Moon!" he said, that twinkle of mischief back in his eyes and a grin spreading across his boastful face. "When MY prophecy comes, it'll be about something extremely important. Something fantastical. Mind-boggling. World-altering."

They chuckled together at that. But their moment of quiet and comfort was cut short when they both heard a loud, frantic series of knocks. They turned to find a NightWing female stood in the doorway to the library, her fist still held up as if to repeat the knocks. Her purple eyes were wide and slightly glazed over, like she wasn't really focused on anything. "Darkstalker. You must come. Hurry. The council needs you. It's an emergency," she said with an odd lilting tone of voice, like a parrot repeating a phrase.

Darkstalker groaned, "There's always something. Sorry, Moon, but I'll be back soon."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's alright," he held up a talon to hold her off. "You stay here, get yourself accustomed to your office. I'll return once this is done. And who knows? Maybe I might actually make a new friend."

"There's always the possibility!" she called as he left, his laughter echoing after him.

Moon set to work, alternating between jotting things down on her role of parchment, to further acquainting herself with sections of the library so that she might have a better map of where everything was in her head. As she'd thought, burying herself in things to do was helping to distract her mind from her grief. But from the edges of her mind she felt something; it was like a ripple at first, tinged with sadness, but as it grew closer, it grew into a wave rushing to wash over Moon. But it felt odd, dark and jagged, like the water was blackened with oil, full to the brim with hurt and loneliness and insecurities. Moon was caught off guard by it at first, but more so when she heard talonsteps approaching. She looked up to see Princess Anemone walking towards from around the back of a bookshelf.

The SeaWing's eyes were red and puffy as if from crying, with dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in days. Her wings and tail were droopy and even as she walked, her head hung low. Moon was surprised. How had she not noticed Anemone here before? But then she noticed a new necklace, like a silver cuff, circling Anemone's throat. It drew Moon's eye and she realised even as she tried to prod the princess' mind and found nothing there for her to read - the necklace was enchanted. It had done a good enough job to hide her from both Moon and Darkstalker until she was ready to reveal herself.

"Anemone?" Moon asked - why was her voice shaky? Why did it feel like every instinct was telling her to run?

"You know what," Anemone mumbled in a voice that sounded hoarse from hours of crying. "I really don't get it. At first, I thought if I gave it time, things would work themselves out. But at every opportunity I'm pushed to the side."

"Pushed to the side of what?" Moon backed up a step, unconsciously putting her desk between them.

"Darkstalker," Anemone spat as if Moon were the most dense dragon she'd ever encountered. "You know, I spent most of my life thinking I was the only animus. Everyone was trying to tell me what to do, warning me of all the things that could go wrong, but no one seemed to understand what that was like. No one else had the power to change everything with just a thought, no one else had the fear of losing their mind every single day."

Moon was silent. Though she couldn't read Anemone's mind, she seemed to be sensing her emotions - the same way she could from a scavenger. At least, the very powerful ones. Anemone was so confused, so hurt, so angry, so… desperate? Moon didn't know what to do, what to say.

"No one tells you that you can kill without meaning to," Anemone was saying in hushed tones, but her gaze was far away, as if she was talking to something only she could witness. And was Moon mistaken, or were there tears in her eyes? "You can do things you didn't even think yourself capable of. And the questions start to pile up inside your head: Did I make the right choice? Am I still me? Am I still good? No one tells you that you'll always see the blood on your claws no matter how many times you blink! And you have to carry that with you everywhere that you can kill the whole world with just a few words. And that weight is SO HEAVY."

The princess paused to take in a ragged breath or two, and the tears were real as they slipped down her snout. Moon stared. Words refused to come to her, and the urge to reach out and comfort Anemone became just as strong as the instinct to run from the maddening gleam in her eyes.

"And then Darkstalker was there. Someone like me. Someone who could understand what it is to be me. I thought this was my chance: no more indecision, no more nightmares, no more blood." And like the flip of a coin, Anemone seemed to snap back into the here and now, razor-edge glance directed onto Moon. "But no. I got here and you had already taken him away!"

"I didn't mean to-"

"And I don't understand why!" Anemone said with a hiss, continuing as if Moon hadn't spoken. "Why doesn't he want to help rebuild this kingdom with me? Why doesn't he want to show me the library?! The minute you show up, you're the only dragon he wants to talk to. I don't see what's so special about you. You're not an animus, you're not a princess. You're just a nobody with boring powers - what did you do to make him like you?"

"Nothing!" Moon said, backing up until her tail hit the wall behind her. "N-nothing, I didn't do anything."

Anemone sneered. "That's right. You don't do anything. And yet somehow, everyone loves you. Even my gutless brother."

"Turtle is not gutless," Moon shot back, her temper overcoming her fear momentarily. "And Anemone… I am truly sorry for how you've been treated. We never meant to ignore or mistreat you, and I realise now just how upset you must be-"

"Don't pretend to know me," the princess snapped, slamming her talons onto the desk and leaning over it, baring her teeth at her opponent. "Both of you do it and I'm sick of it! You patronise me, and Darkstalker only sees me as an annoyance. Well I'm sorry I remind him of Fathom! I can't help it - how do I make that go away?!"

"Anemone, it's not like that-"

"Don't tell me what's real - I know it's real! You may be able to look in the future but you don't have the answers to everything. You've hoodwinked everyone into believing it! Stop making out you're more important than you really are!"

"I don't! I'm not going to apologise for simply existing, Anemone, or for having friends."

"I could have friends too!" Anemone shouted, and Moon seemed to feel a charge in the air, like the world was prepared for lightning to strike at any moment. "I could have as many friends as I want!"

She picked up the inkpot Moon had been using and smashed it on the desk. Glass shards and ink splattered across the oak surface and stained Anemone's pale blue scales a black-purple. With a sweep of her talon, she gathered half a dozen shards in her palm, and held them up. The glass began to float in the air, hovering in a circular formation, like planets orbiting an invisible star. Moon watched them with growing dread, ready to bolt if the princess sent them hurtling her way.

"I could have all these tiny pieces of glass shoot out and hit every dragon in Pyrrhia - they would all love me and hate you. I'd make it so that no one would ever again give you safe harbour." The grin on her face, the wide-eyed look like she hadn't slept in days; Moon would probably be seeing that face in her nightmares for years to come. "Of course, I'll leave the biggest piece for Darkstalker. I'll turn it into an earring, and then I'd have him forget you ever existed - No! He'll loath the very sight of you! You'd be another annoyance to him, a bug for him to step on. And then I'll have him become king of the NightWings; no animus should serve under a lesser dragon. And we will bring the age of the animus dragons together. Yes. That works."

One of the glass shards lifted higher than the others and transformed into a silver earring of a snake with ruby eyes. Had the SeaWing truly lost her mind? Moon couldn't let this go on. She leapt for it at once and tried to snatch it out of the air. "I can't let you do that!"

It felt like her body slammed into a barrier, she was unable to touch Anemone or get anywhere near her. A moment later, Moon felt her trajectory reverse and she was thrown back to slam into the wall again. Falling heavily to the ground, Moon took a moment to get her bearings. What had just happened?

"How presumptuous of you to think you can tell a princess what to do," Anemone said in a cold voice. She picked out another shard of glass. "Maybe I need to remind you of your place. Shard! Turn into a broom. Now, go hit that dragon really hard until she starts using you to clean this place like the maid she is - and don't let her stop until I say so."

The broom sailed across the room and rapped Moon sharply on the snout as she tried to back away. "Ow!" Moon cried. "Stop it!" The broom evaded her swatting talons and whacked her again. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she barely managed to duck underneath the next swing. But instead of hitting her face, the broom changed its course and instead struck her across the back. Moon shrieked and spun, a bolt of fire streaming from her mouth. The broom floated above her outburst, letting her fire scorch the wall black. As it came back down, Moon managed to grab hold of the broom's handle and wrestled it to the ground.

"Are you going to give in yet?" Anemone demanded. The way she was looking at Moon, like she hated the very helplessness she was causing. "Do it. Yield to me! No? I see. You're finally dropping the sweet and frail act. Maybe if you'd shown this much fight before, your stupid mother might not've died."

"How dare you?!" Moon screamed in rage and hurt, spinning to launch herself at Anemone, jaws wide, claws brandished, fire at the back of her throat. She was possessed, overcome, acting on impulse and ready to hurt the person who made her this angry. But before she could make it, before she could sink her claws into Anemone's pretty neck, the broom came flying at her and cracked across the side of Moon's face.

The world went white and a loud, high-pitched ring spun through Moon's ears. A headache was pounding through her skull and made it hard to focus as Moon tried to make sense of her vision slowly returning. The world was wobbling. She was on the floor at the foot of her desk. Somebody was hitting her tail, her shoulder, her wing. It hurt. At first, noises were muffled, but slowly they returned. Anemone stood over her, talking, there was a consistent 'thwack' sound every minute or so that Moon realised was the broom continuously hitting her. Before it could come down to hit her again, Moon managed to reach out a bruised arm to grab its handle once again and pulled it into her chest, holding it close, and straddling the bottom of it between her hind legs.

"... never wanted to," Anemone was saying. "But I'm not letting this stop me. I need to go and find Darkstalker. He's going to be so thrilled when I give him this," she held up the silver snake earring. "Everything's going to be perfect!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Moon murmured, looking up and behind Anemone.

The princess spun, and there was Darkstalker, looming in the doorway. There seemed to be a tremble in his muscles, a quiver every now and then that seemed to betray the emotion he was bottling inside of himself. His blue-silver eyes were wide, the pupils mere slits. The spines along his neck and shoulders seemed to be standing straighter like the hackles on a hound, gleaming like scythes in the firelight. His gaze was fixated on Anemone, and he stalked slowly into the library, moving like a cat on the hunt. A rumble emanated from his chest, and Moon felt it tremble inside her own bones. Her breath caught in her throat and her blood ran cold. Run, some instinct told her, louder and more urgent than when even Anemone had been threatening her.

"Anemone," Darkstalker said, his lips barely moving over his teeth. He made a gesture towards Moon, and she couldn't stop herself from flinching. There was a loud clatter as the broom fell to the floor, utterly harmless. Darkstalker had not once taken his unblinking eyes off the SeaWing. "Explain yourself."

Whatever madness had temporarily gotten hold of Anemone before had completely deserted her now as she stared up at Darkstalker with terror barely held back in her expression. She kept trying to back away, one step at a time. "Oh, um, there you are! I was looking for you, I was trying to help Moon clean up in here, but the broom went a bit heywire. So strange. Anyway, I found something for you - do you like it? I made it myself!"

She held up the earring, but the instant she revealed it, it zipped out of her hand and shot towards Darkstalker. He caught it in one hand, closing his long claws around it. "Spare me your lies. Your little trick didn't work, I saw inside that NightWing's mind; you put a spell on her to distract me. You wanted to lure me away so you could hurt Moon. And now you want to trick me again, to place spells on me." He tightened his fist and then spread his claws, allowing silver dust to fall to the floor.

Anemone gulped loudly. She continued to back up, until she was cornered between a bookcase and a potted plant. "J-Just a little one. I just want you to be only my teacher. You promised you would mentor me, a-and the age of animus dragons? You promised… They all promised…"

"Darkstalker," Moon didn't know what exactly compelled her to speak. But after everything she had heard out of Anemone tonight, she couldn't bring herself to watch Darkstalker set his wrath upon her. "It's okay, I'm fine. It was just a stupid mistake."

He turned his head to look at her, and she realised what a state she must be in. "It's not fine. And I won't tolerate this behaviour. Not now, not ever." He turned his gaze back on Anemone, and there was a moment where Moon thought he would deal with the princess exactly as his fury demanded. But then, there was a conscious decision made somewhere in his mind, and with barely restrained anger, he snarled: "Whatever privileges you thought you had, Princess, I officially revoke! You are no longer welcome within this Kingdom."

Lifting a talon, he made a simple 'come-hither' gesture and suddenly Anemone was lifted off her feet and floated in the air. She was brought to dangle right in front of his face, shrieking indignantly the whole time. The new neck-brace on her throat vanished and was instead replaced with a simple loose rope cord.

"I enchant this cord so that you cannot use your animus abilities so long as it is touching you, and it will not be removed by any means unless I will it. Now, go to the dungeons, and your guards along with you! I should've known not to trust a SeaWing. You're just like Fathom!"

And as if the cord were a collar being pulled by an invisible master, it led Anemone away, carrying her through the air at speed and out the door. Anemone screeched the whole time, between begging for forgiveness and cursing and asking why this was happening. Just as quickly as it all happened, she was gone. Moon stared out the empty doors for a moment, silent, her brain refusing to form thoughts. Only one question seemed to remain. How had things gotten to this point? How had she been so blind as to not notice the signs of Anemone's deep unhappiness? Could anything have been done differently to avoid this?

A touch at her shoulder made her jump. It was Darkstalker. His eyes and touch were gentle as he stroked the side of her head with the back of his claw, wiping away the blood from the split in her scales where the broom had cracked her across the head. He mumbled something, and the aches all across her body vanished - her headache ceased to exist, all her bruises were no more, it was as if she'd never been hurt.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'll live." She climbed to her feet. What Anemone had said about her mother… those words were going to haunt her tonight. "Please, Darkstalker, you cannot just throw Anemone in the dungeons. She is only young, and I think she's very troubled. She needs help. And what's more, if her mother caught wind of this, she'd go to war over it."

Darkstalker let out a long breath. "You're right. We failed Anemone - I don't think she would take our help now even if we offered. We're the last dragons she wants to see right now. I will send a message to Queen Coral tonight and negotiate releasing Anemone to her amicably. But I must insist that for everyone's safety that Anemone remain in the dungeon until that point."

"So long as she's cared for respectfully, I can live with that."