A/N: Welcome back, all to Chapter 13.

I haven't had a long author's note in the past two chapters, and that trend will continue with this one. So, I'll just leave my customary reminder to favorite/follow and leave a review if you like what you see. And, as always, enjoy...

Chapter 13: Power Withheld

His mind on other matters, Darkstalker's wings took him on an almost automatic route on a familiar course. Over the city and towards the palace, he flew hardly even looking at anyone or anything else. It wasn't until he was already starting to land on one of the palace's main terraces that he suddenly remembered that he didn't want to. Pulling out of the landing, he flew on straight ahead past the great structure which housed his friends.

He took a deep breath. In and out. To say that he was shaken from his encounter with Arctic would be an understatement. For the first time, he felt like he had truly seen his father, or at least the father that his mother had once known. There had been a sincerity in him, a genuine feeling of emotion in him as he'd spoken so much about what he'd gone through. And he'd spoken to Darkstalker like a father would a son, or at least how Darkstalker always imagined a father should talk to their son.

His message hadn't been lost, either. Arctic's actions had cost him something dear. They'd changed him into the dragon that Darkstalker had known up until this day. That change was something that Darkstalker did not want to happen to him, but things needed more thought. Could it be that Arctic was right all along about animus magic destroying a soul? Was it how he'd done it, causing death and destruction with his power? Or was it something completely different?

Darkstalker simply didn't know.

He suddenly found himself making a landing again and glanced down to see that he was approaching one of the lakes not far from the palace. In fact, he recognized it as the same one that he'd brought Fathom and Indigo to on the day they'd first met. Looking around, he saw that he was alone and, since this seemed as good a place as any to think in solitude, he continued his decent and alighted at about the same place Indigo had tried to kill him over a month ago. It was very early morning now, the sun just creeping up enough to bathe the water in a dim light.

He cast a glance out over the water, then began to pace along the shoreline. Each step seemed to come down a little harder, wearing into the ground as began to growl to himself, smoke escaping his nostrils as he whipped himself back and forth, his fire being called on as his body's natural response to the stress.

It just didn't make any sense! Nothing that Darkstalker knew about animus magic would seem to indicate that Arctic should be as bad as he was. He'd cast a single spell to blind a few dragons and lost his soul to the point where the soul-reader said he was mostly gone, yet Darkstalker himself had cast dozens of spells by now and was fine, even discounting what he'd done since making the scroll. Albatross had practically created an entire city before he fell, and other Icewings had reportedly crafted massive and majestic gifts without going mad. That his father lost so much for so little just seemed so wrong.

Then perhaps it was the nature of the spell that did it. Yet Arctic hadn't actually hurt them—well, his spell didn't kill them, at least. Not directly. Blindness wasn't the same as wanton death, and Arctic himself had said that he hadn't meant that ultimate result. For all Darkstalker knew, Arctic's spell could even have been for temporary blindness that should have had no lasting effects.

Even if that was the problem, though, things still didn't add up. The Great Ice Cliff, perhaps the largest obstacle to the Nightwings winning the war, was an animus touched object created to kill. And it had, Darkstalker knew that for certain. Yet the Icewing who had created it hadn't gone insane. In fact, if the stories Arctic had told were true, that animus had become one of the greatest and most beloved queens in Icewing history.

As far as Darkstalker could see, there shouldn't have been any danger from what Arctic did. Yet it had harmed him all the same. It made no sense to Darkstalker. It was a puzzle that he felt he should know, but had no idea.

And that terrified him.

In a fit of frustration, he turned and released a burst of flame that had been building in him out over the water. There was a mix of smoke and steam and a hissing of hot water as the flames lapped at the surface. He snapped his mouth shut and the fire ceased, the water rippling but already calming as a few unfortunate fish floated to the surface, cooked.

With a growl, he turned away to resume pacing, not really feeling any better from the outburst.

He only took one step before he heard a splash, then a loud "Hey!"

He turned to see a head poking out of the water at him, giving him a scowl. "What do you think you're doing?" a familiar voice demanded as he recognized the Seawing whose swim he'd apparently just interrupted.

"Indigo?" he asked, surprised that she'd somehow popped up here, quite literally.

"Oh, it's you," she growled, apparently not having recognized him when she'd shouted at first, "You know, I thought we agreed not to try to kill each other."

He gave a roll of his eyes as she began to swim towards him. "Sorry," he hissed in what was more of a mumble, "I didn't see you."

"Well, I wasn't exactly trying to be seen," she said as she reached the shallows and made her way to shore, "I thought I was alone, but I guess I wasn't. I didn't know I needed to keep to the bottom to avoid being scorched by a random passer-by." She paused and looked herself over, no doubt checking for burns, then shrugged her wings. "No harm done, thankfully."

Part of Darkstalker had hoped that she would've just gone back to whatever she'd been doing. Another part was grateful for a distraction from his thoughts. He decided to let the latter part hold sway. "What are you doing here," he asked as she shook the water off her scales, "I don't think I've ever seen you alone outside the palace."

She gave another shrug of her wings. "I just came for a swim. I'm off duty and Lionfish is watching Fathom. The water here's nicer than any of the palace baths," she paused and looked him over. "What are you doing here."

"Nothing," came his quick answer. He looked away from her and back over the lake.

She looked him up and down, and he could hear in her mind that she didn't buy it. Indigo was a smart dragon, and she could see something was up in how he was carrying himself. Something's not quite right with him, he heard her think, but she just responded with a skeptical "Sure."

A short silence fell, and he broke with a long sigh. I might as well…he thought, not sure whether he'd regret it or not.

"What does it take to lose your soul," he asked her, his gaze still on the water.

"Your soul?" she asked, surprise in her voice and mind at that question, "I…I don't know."

"But you must have a guess," he insisted, turning to look at her, "What would it take? Killing a dragon? Killing four? Casting one large spell? A thousand small ones?"

She shook her head, "Why—"

"Exactly," he went on, "Is it why you do it? Can you kill a dragon in war and be fine but do it over gold and not be? What if you do bad things for good reasons? What if you—"

"No," Indigo raised a claw and stopped him, "I meant…why do you want to know? You're the animus; if any dragon has an idea, it would be you."

"I…I…" he faltered and shook his head, "I guess I don't," he finally got out. He tapped his tail on the ground and looked down at his claws with a growl.

Indigo cocked her head and he could hear the hesitation in her mind as to what she should do. She made to take a step away, then paused and pulled her claw back. She gave a sigh of her own before speaking again. "If it makes you feel any better, I doubt anyone knows."

"No. That doesn't make me feel better at all," he responded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I'd rather just know. If animus magic destroys my soul, then I should know. I should be able to feel it within me," he paused, just for a moment, "I never have."

"Never have what?" she asked.

"Felt my soul be destroyed," he answered with a shake of his head, "Before I made my scroll I could feel my power leave me when I cast a spell, but my soul crumble? No, never. I felt fine. I feel fine."

Indigo gave him a hard look, her eyes scanning him. "Forgive my bluntness, but you don't seem to feel fine right now. What brought this on? I thought that you had all this soul-destroying business under control, or at least that's what you always say to Fathom when you try to get him to cast a spell."

Darkstalker lashed his tail and bit back a growl of frustration. Why he was even having this conversation with Indigo was beyond him. She wasn't an animus. She couldn't understand anything. She wasn't his enemy anymore, but she had no right to be the one that he talked to about such weighty matters.

Yet he found himself talking all the same.

"It's possible that I might not quite be right about all that," he reluctantly admitted, "It's complicated. I am sure that I'm not in any danger, and I'm reasonably confident that Fathom isn't either. There's just…" he trailed off, not quite sure what else to say.

"Just…" Indigo prompted, wanting to hear more. But not in an eager, gossipy way. She seemed intent to help. To understand. To listen.

He took a deep breath. "I think I may have found out that it's a lot more complicated than I thought," he got out, "Not just animus magic, but everything. Futures, spells, dragons themselves…how is that one day I know how everything is and how it should be, and the next everything's changed?"

The Seawing gave a shake of her head, and a small smile of all things played at the corners of her mouth. "That's just life, Darkstalker. Things happen and change. You can't control it."

"I should!" he bit, "I have the power to."

"…And that's exactly the kind of thinking that leads to darkness and death," Indigo told him calmly. "That's exactly what a dragon like you should avoid thinking."

He grumbled to himself. She was right…to an extent. He'd seen too many dark futures where he chose to use his power to hold that much sway over the world itself. Not all had been very pretty. But using it in other situations had the potential to help so, so much.

"Fine," he said, "Then what should a dragon like me think to do? As much as you disagree, I can't just not use my power."

Indigo faltered. "I don't know," she answered him, "The right thing, I guess."

"The right thing?" He resisted the urge to laugh at such a vague and easy out, "Such as?"

"I don't know!" She was getting flustered now, "Good things. Helping others instead of yourself. Ending your stupid war with the Icewings."

"And that will save my soul?" he pushed, if not just to see her reaction.

"Maybe?" she growled, "I'd say it's got a better chance than doing bad things. I mean, why would a spell to help other dragons hurt your soul? Why would doing good cause harm? Why would the world even work like that?"

Darkstalker opened his mouth for a scathing retort that never came. What she'd just said…it made a lot of sense. It wasn't the answer, at least not in whole. But something clicked. It was definitely part of it.

"Look," she said once she'd calmed down a little, "I've known Fathom for a long time. I've told you before that I trust him to do the right thing with his magic. That's because he's a good dragon that puts others ahead of himself. The very thought that he'd do something that would destroy his soul is ridiculous."

She paused, and hesitation filled her mind. Slowly, she lifted a claw, reached over and set it on his own. "If he can do it, so can you. You have a strong spirit, Darkstalker. Control it."

He hardly even heard her words. He glanced down at her touch, a kind of disbelief at it. Flashes of visions flittered around his memory, scenes of the purple dragon and him in greater embraces than the feel of her claw on his. Some were new, others familiar, and they spun around his head like a whirlwind that he couldn't follow.

He looked back up and met her eyes. There was a comfort in them both familiar and unfamiliar. He'd been here before, or would be here, and the emotions that were in his chest suddenly didn't fit the situation.

"I—" he began to say, opening his mouth without even thinking of what he'd say, but was suddenly interrupted before he could even get a word out.

"Darkstalker," a shout echoed out, pulling him out of whatever trance had enveloped him and ending whatever moment he'd been having. Both he and Indigo whipped their heads around, their gazes landing on a black dragon arriving from the direction of the palace. For a moment he was worried that it was Clearsight (wait, why would he be worried?) before his mind registered that the voice had been male and the dragon approaching was a different—but still familiar—Nightwing.

The dragon in question was Batcatcher, one of Queen Vigilance's sons and thus a prince. He wasn't exactly what Darkstalker would call a friend, but the two were on friendly terms considering how often they ran into each other in the palace. The prince was a little older than Darkstalker, but wasn't very bright as far as Nightwings went. As the new Nightwing approached and landed in front of them, he couldn't help but wonder why exactly he'd show up here and now.

"Oh, Darkstalker, I'm glad I found you," the prince sounded a bit out of breath, huffing in exertion from what to Darkstalker appeared to be a short flight, "Mother was asking for you, and I thought I saw you flying this direction earlier, so she sent me to fetch you. She seemed quite insistent that you come as soon as possible." Batcatcher took a deep breath, then looked over at Indigo as though noticing her for the first time. "Hi," he said simply, awkwardly waving a claw before looking away from her and back to him.

Darkstalker glanced at Indigo before responding. "Does she really need me now?" he asked, "Can it wait?"

"I don't know what it's about," Batcatcher said earnestly, still trying to catch his breath. The other Nightwing was more…indulgent when it came to a palace lifestyle, and it showed a bit on his belly and stamina. "But you know how Queen Vigilance is. It's best not to keep her waiting when she wants something."

"True…" Darkstalker mumbled vaguely, wondering how much trouble he'd be in if he didn't respond. He still kind of wanted to be alone to his thoughts, even if he was sharing those thoughts with Indigo.

Batcatcher looked back and forth between them picking up on his hesitation. "I'm sorry, was I interrupting something?" he asked, suddenly looking very uncomfortable, "If I was, I can just go. I'll tell mother that I couldn't find you, or—"

"No, it's fine," Indigo interrupted, cutting him off before he could say more.

"You weren't interrupting anything," Darkstalker quickly added, hastily trying to put any thoughts of that out of the prince's mind, "We were just talking."

"And we can continue later," Indigo finished the impromptu back-and-forth. She turned and looked at him, "You shouldn't keep your queen waiting."

Darkstalker nodded, opened his mouth to add something else, then closed it again. He took a step away as Batcatcher took off, but paused before joining him in the air. Glancing back at Indigo, he finally found a parting word.

"Thanks."

She gave a smile and nodded. Spreading her wings out just a little, he saw a couple flashes of light on them go off as he took another step and launched himself into the air. He couldn't help but glance back as her as he flew away, wondering if all she'd said was 'you're welcome' or if had been something more.

Queen Vigilance's throne room was large. Unnecessarily large. The pathway up the throne itself felt a mile long with plenty or room on the sides. Rows of pillars stretched the length of the room, casting shadows down on all dragons approaching. At the end of the room, raised on a platform of steps, stood the throne itself with the queen on it.

Darkstalker understood that the whole scene was to unnerve any dragon who made to approach Vigilance, but he'd never really gotten why the room had to be so massive. It could probably fill a couple hundred dragons if packed tightly, and he'd never seen it close to filled. In fact, normally only five dragons were even in it. The queen, two guards near the throne, and two more at the main door.

Walking into it felt almost like walking into a massive cave. Indeed, with the high ceiling and dim lighting, cavernous may quite have been the best adjective for the room. Candlelight flickered from lights high on the pillars in the center of the room, and the only natural lighting came from three windows placed behind the queen, each in the shape of the moon, casting their rays of light down on her as if to declare divinity upon whoever sat on the seat.

Many other dragons would have been intimidated, but Darkstalker had been here so often that he wasn't even fazed. He barely gave the guards at the entrance a single glance as he strode into the room, Batcatcher at his side and ironically looking rather nervous at being in his mother's place of prominence.

Vigilance was looking over some scroll as they entered, but she looked up once they were almost halfway to her. A mirthless smile graced her mouth when she saw him, and with a shift of her shoulders she slid off her throne and began walking to meet them.

"Ah, Darkstalker, my favorite animus," she began, affection in her voice but not quite authentic, "It's been a while since we really talked, the two of us. How's your father doing? Icy as ever, I imagine."

He gave her a half shrug of his wings. "I suppose so," he told her, even if it was kind of a lie.

"He was over at the lakes, like I said," Batcatcher butted in unaddressed, "I told you I'd seen him. I said that…"

"Yes, yes," Queen Vigilance dismissed him with a wave of a claw, "You did very well. Now, I wish to talk with Darkstalker alone."

Batcatcher left without another word, but Darkstalker could hear relief in his mind at being let go. He hoped that it was just nerves on the other dragon's part, and not foreboding at all…

Vigilance watched him leave and Darkstalker followed her gaze as the guards at the entrance shut its great double-doors. They were now alone, save for the guards, but the Nightwing royal guard were specially trained and highly trusted by the queen. Even many private conversations were made in front of them, and for all purposes they were invisible as they stood still and silent, observing.

"Where were we," Vigilance continued once her son was gone, "Ah, yes. Your family. I know we've seen each other at my strategy meetings and in other matters, but I've not yet had a chance to give my heartfelt sympathy for what almost happened to your mother. Truly, it would have been a tragedy had she been captured or killed. It would have been horrible for morale, not to mention how it would hit you personally."

"Thank you," Darkstalker said simply. Dealing with the queen was no simple matter. It was always a test of words, of wills, with everyone she spoke to. Her words were pleasant, but her mind was sharp. These were the pleasantries of a politician, and Darkstalker wouldn't have put it past Vigilance to have orchestrated the whole event concerning his mother if it would have benefited her somehow.

Of course, what made things more difficult was how hard Vigilance was to read. He'd tried to see into her mind before, but trying to do so was like trying to read the mind of a rock. Only the strongest of emotions came through, and never had he gotten a full, coherent sentence like many others projected. He'd heard before that she'd had some of the most powerful mind readers train her in shielding techniques, and he believed it. It made sense for it to be that way, since she was a queen and all, but it was frustrating all the same.

"I'm sure it will please you to know that I've moved her division to the town of Eclipse," Vigilance continued, "It's not much in the grand scheme of things, but it's one of the defensive locations farthest from the front. There's little chance she'll being seeing any of the enemy at all there."

"Really?" Darkstalker asked. That was indeed good news. As part of the air defense crews, Foeslayer had never been exceptionally close to the fighting, but the farther away she was the better. Darkstalker still would prefer that she not fight at all, but this did make things better.

"Yes, indeed," the queen extended a wing out and over him, turning him slightly and inviting him to walk with her down the rows of pillars towards the throne, "With Clearsight's reports preventing the Icewing's largest assaults from succeeding, it's looking increasing likely that the Icewings won't be able to even make any forays into the kingdom for the rest of the war. As you know, we've been driving them back at all fronts. I can say with a fair degree of certainty that your mother won't have to see combat for as long as she's stationed there."

"That's excellent," Darkstalker kept his emotions guarded despite his words, and despite the relief he felt, "The generals seem certain of victory. Knowing the future is a valuable asset."

"True, but that is their job, to seek victory," Vigilance told him with a small huff, "I fear they may be too optimistic. I wonder everyday if there is a way to ensure it. To win this conflict and cease this horrible loss of life. I wonder if I may have such a way at my clawtips, if it would just be used."

The situation suddenly dawned on Darkstalker; the reason she'd asked to see him clear. "You want me to use my magic," he stated bluntly, not quite surprised. She'd hinted at it before, but never outright asked him to do anything.

"It only seems the logical thing to do," Vigilance answered, unfazed, "After all, I've given your father and yourself a home, protection, and a place in my court when I could have easily turned your whole family over to the Icewings to end the war—or even prevent it in the first place. Surely that can't mean nothing. Surely it would not be remiss to seek some benefit from sheltering animus dragons."

Darkstalker bit back a sudden urge to hiss. He'd always known that she'd try to play that card sooner or later, but it stung that there was no iron clad way out of that point. It had never been any secret (although the queen herself never publicly said it) that the reason Arctic had been allowed in the Night Kingdom in the first place was the prospect of the Nightwings getting his magic. It only made sense, then, that Vigilance would want to use that magic eventually.

"Of course it isn't," he agreed cautiously, "But animus magic isn't something that should be just used carefreely. The tax it puts on our souls…" he trailed off, not really needing to say any more.

Three moons, why do I sound like Arctic, He thought to himself even as he spoke. Frankly, it was hypocritical to use that argument when he had no qualms writing dozens of spells in his scroll. Of course, Vigilance had no idea about the scroll, and he had no intention of telling her about it.

"That may be so," the queen went on as they paused their walk in front of her throne, "And I have no intention to drive any animus insane, but a few small or medium spells certainly couldn't do much damage. How much would it take to, say, create a knife that could kill any Icewing you tell it to, or to enchant a ballista to never miss its target. A few things like those could ensure rapid victories."

He shook his head. "I don't know. There's not exactly ever been a study of how many spells of what size it takes to lose a soul. Doing several things like that could be disastrous. Only one or two could be enough to lose my soul."

If Darkstalker was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure how much of what he said he believed. Until not ago, he would have dismissed the notion of harm, especially in light of his scroll. Yet there was one thing he was sure of: he did not want to be using his spells for Vigilance. The thought of her dictating every spell he cast made his scales crawl. Add to that his recent thoughts that maybe the purpose of a spell could impact the soul, and he really didn't want to using his magic for warfare and killing dragons.

"Or they might not," Queen Vigilance countered, "I've been talking to your friend, the Seawing prince. Did you know that the Seawing animus Albatross was able to create almost an entire city before he lost his soul? When you think of how much power and magic went into that, then enchanting a blade or bolt to strike true hardly seems like much, does it?"

"But Albatross went insane," Darkstalker felt the need to point out.

She dismissed his argument with a wave of a claw. "Yes, but he achieved so much before he did. What if he stopped at half a city? Imagine the power that could be achieved with the spells needed to do a fraction of what he did. It makes little sense not to try to imitate it." The was a kind of far-off, but hungry look in her eyes as she paused for a moment, then she shook her head and gave him a slightly unsettling smile. "But of course, I realize why you might be hesitant to take such action. You must do what is right to safeguard yourself. I just thought that, with what the Icewings tried to do to your mother, you'd want some retaliation. Turnabout is fair play, and all that."

In the days that had followed that incident, Darkstalker had put serious thought into just that. He'd gone over dozens of spells in his mind at how he could strike back at the Icewings. But each time he'd gone to write one, he'd stopped before the ink touched the scroll. He was furious at what had happened, of course, but the Icewings hadn't succeeded. Foeslayer was safe and unharmed, and none of the Icewings save Queen Diamond and perhaps a few of her officials probably even knew about the spell and the plan. In the end, there just wasn't enough burning hatred in him to do it. If Foeslayer had been lost then things would almost certainly be different, but this wasn't a claw for a claw or a tooth for a tooth scenario. Now, over a week later, the fire in his heart had mostly burnt out and he was content to let things be, so long as they didn't try anything else.

"If they'd succeeded, maybe," Darkstalker responded noncommittally, "It just seems unwise to me to try to take these steps out of rage or anger. If you've talked with Fathom, then I'm sure he's told you how cautious to be with magic."

"Don't tell me you actually take his sad mutterings seriously," Vigilance said with an annoyed rumble in her throat, "Three moons, he's worse than your Icewing father when it comes to that. I thought that you would be different, stronger, like a Nightwing should be. Do you really want to waste your talents like they are?"

He bit his tongue to stop from giving a retort at her talking about his friend like that. "No," he answered, "But that doesn't mean I should just ignore what they say. If I'm to craft a spell for your war effort, it will take proper planning and foresight before I cast it."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Vigilance tapped her talons on the ground in a rare outward show of excitement, "We have seers; you yourself are a seer. Look into the future and see what will happen. Get Clearsight to help you, if you must. I know how close the two of you are, so perhaps next time you distract her from her work it can be for something constructive. I will not ask for you to cast a spell right now, but I would like you to create a list of feasible spells that you could possibly perform in the future. From big to small, I want to see what our options are."

"I…" Darkstalker began but paused. He still didn't want to do anything, but there didn't seem to be harm in acquiescing to this particular request. It would probably be wise to go with things now and seek a way out later, perhaps she could be talked out of it with the help of Clearsight. At any rate, with the way the queen had been talking, he didn't think she'd take 'no' as much of an answer. "I think I can do that," he finished, but let his frown show.

"Good…good," Queen Vigilance nodded and moved away from him, walking up the steps back onto her throne. "I do have a few ideas to consider, while you're here," she went on after she'd sat herself down on it, now looking down on him like he was beneath her in more than one sense, "The Icewings have that annoying Ice Cliff that prevents invasion. See if you can do something like that, but for us. I already mentioned the ballista and knife, but perhaps something like invulnerable armor would work well. Talk to General Stargazer when you see him, or any of the other generals either stationed here or visiting. I'm sure they have plenty of ideas on what could win the war."

"Is that all?" he asked with just a touch of sarcasm.

"Yes, for now." The queen waved her claw at him, dismissing him like any other dragon and not the one who could easily end the war.

…Or end her, his mind added, not unpleased with the prospect in the moment. That was his ultimate goal, after all. It had to be if he ever wanted to be king. Vigilance would have to go sooner or later, and he sure wouldn't cry a tear when she did.

"I'll want frequent reports," she called out to him as he began the long walk across the room to the exit. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

He didn't bother to give a response or even look back as he continued on out of the throne room. Already his mind was considering how to approach this new problem presented to him. On top of everything happening in his mind, now he had yet another thing to try to sort out and deal with. How fun, he grumbled to himself.

Right now there were a lot of things he wasn't sure about. Arctic had rippled his thoughts about magic more than he'd have liked. His visions concerning a certain Seawing were muddling with the future, and that same Seawing only served to complicate what Arctic said about magic. There was one thing that he was certain about, though: he would not let Queen Vigilance dictate how he used his magic. If she thought she could, then perhaps he'd be becoming king sooner than he thought.

His magic was his own, and there was no way he'd give his magic into the claws of another. No matter what.