Chapter Fifty

The day by any other standards might have been considered glorious. The sun was shining clearly on a cloudless blue sky, a gentle breeze tickled the edges of one's senses and carried the sweet scent of summer flowers. Even when sat so high up on the mountainside of Jade Mountain, Qibli could still smell everything from the world below. In the years he'd been living in Jade Mountain, today should have been perfect, and yet it couldn't be. The mountain was too quiet, the halls emptying out by the day. Glory and her RainWings had finally left to return to the rainforest early this morning, and with them had tolled the final bell on the rebellion. That was it, it was all truly over now. He could still remember the day he had gone with Sunny to find this place, to find a safe haven for the exiled tribe; he'd welcomed them here, and though he'd always hoped that they would one day triumph and return home… he also never thought he'd see them go. Jade Mountain just wasn't the same when it wasn't filled with the echoes of chatter from a hundred voices. In the desolate silence, it felt too big, too cold, too… lonely.

The only RainWing who had decided to stay was Kinkajou. Glory had tried to convince her to come back - had even offered her a place on a council. And whilst Kinkajou hadn't outright refused, she'd merely said: "I'll come back later - I can't go home until Moon can come with me."

Qibli wondered if that was a front for how she wanted Turtle to come back with her. He'd noticed the way they kept looking at each other. He'd overheard Turtle confess his feelings to the little RainWing back at Fathom's Sanctuary, and with everything that had been happening since, the two hadn't seemed to talk about that properly just yet. So now they were in limbo where every glance reminded them of this huge weight hung on a string dangling between them, growing heavier the longer they resisted.

Glory's offer also reminded Qibli of how he was also needed elsewhere. He'd been playing rebellion for too long, had he forgotten he was an Outclaw? He belonged with Thorn. Now that he was no longer needed to help Sunny, shouldn't he return to the Scorpion Den? With his grandfather in league with Darkstalker, who now had his animus powers returned, the threat to Thorn's life felt so pressing. Thorn had been an unexpected rival to Vulture over the past decade or more - her insistence on returning law and order to the Scorpion Den had made her a target of several small assassination attempts. Citizens behaving themselves were bad for business, Vulture had said. Would he convince Darkstalker to settle this old vendetta for him?

But then… What about Vulture's cryptic words about turning a new leaf, about revolution? Was it just another way for his grandfather to trick him, to catch him off guard? It shouldn't work, but Qibli couldn't quite make the doubt go away.

It stewed inside him until mid afternoon when he and the others of the Jade Winglet were sat by the lake. He couldn't even enjoy the feel of the sun on his scales as he would normally do, his mind elsewhere. Turtle was fishing for everyone's supper, Peril sat on a rock using her firescales to fix a broken helmet. Kinkajou sat with Winter not too far from Qibli's left side, helping the IceWing to administer the medicines he'd been given to treat the wound on the side of his head where one of his ears had been. Though the physicians said the injury was healing nicely, it was still a grizzly sight that made Qibli feel rotten with failure every time he looked at it. His friend had been hurt not ten feet from him, and he'd been unable to save him.

"What are we still doing here?" he heard himself ask. The others paused in their tasks to stare at him. He didn't like the judgement in their gazes and so he stared out west - where the southern end of the desert lay just beyond the horizon. "I mean, the war's over now. Moon clearly doesn't need our help anymore. Maybe we should all just go home."

"We can't quit now!" Kinkajou said, her wings flittering with slight anxiety. "We still need to fulfil the prophecy."

"How do we know we haven't already? The war's over, Morrowseer's dead, the sky didn't fall down."

"You want to go back to the Scorpion Den?" Winter asked.

Something in the prince's dark gaze made Qibli's stomach churn. "Unlike the rest of you, I don't have a happily-ever-after waiting for me. Thorn could use my help!"

"And you think you can protect her from your big-bad-grandpa out there rather than here with dragons who actually know the whole situation."

"If I could at least just go and give her some Skyfire," Qibli insisted, why did his voice sound like a frightened dragonet? "Then she could be protected from my grandfather using Darkstalker to hurt her."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Turtle asked, having just resurfaced with another big carp in his talons.

"And if you really believed that would happen," Winter said, coming to his feet, "if you believed Darkstalker would use his magic in that way, then it's all the more reason to stay here where we can figure out how to stop him."

"You read Fathom's Journal," Qibli shot back. "He made his own father disembowel himself. We can't leave anything to chance."

Kinkajou flared her ruff in frustration. "All the more reason for you to stay and help us stop him! And to help get Moony out of there!"

"And my sister!" agreed Turtle, trudging out of the water towards him, his eyes big and pitiful. "You're the smartest dragon I know, Qibli. I don't think I can get Anemone out of the Kingdom of Night without you."

The words were meant to be encouraging, to show appreciation, Qibli would later look back and realise. But in that moment, the SandWing just snapped. He snorted derisively in Turtle's direction. "Yes, you could! You could snap your claws right now and have your sister standing right next to you."

"B-but," Turtle stammered, backing up quickly as Qibli stomped towards him. The SeaWing looked confused, frightened. "But then Darkstalker will know-"

"Three moons, would you just shut up! You literally have the power of the universe at your claw tips - you could save your sister in a heartbeat, you could do literally anything you want! Instead you do nothing with it, you just lay here being useless until someone tells you what to do. It's ridiculous!"

"That's enough!" came a roar, and suddenly Winter was pushing into Qibli's chest, herding him back and away from Turtle. Kinkajou was behind him, throwing her wings around Turtle, staring at Qibli with furious eyes, her scales red and orange. Even Peril was hissing from the rocks, pacing back and forth, ready to jump in if not for the fact she would hurt her friends by doing so. Winter came nose to nose with Qibli, his expression thunderous but restrained. "You don't get to talk to him like that."

"As if you have any leg to stand on!" Qibli shrugged him off. "Right at the beginning of all this you admonished him for not using his powers to save your tribe!"

"Yes, and you didn't let me get away with it," Winter snapped back.

"Turtle is NOT useless!" Kinkajou hissed. "He is brave and kind and-"

"And has magic!" The words were rushing out, he couldn't get them to stop. Not even when Turtle's big eyes stared at the floor, full of tears, the SeaWing flinching with every accusation hurled his way. It made Qibli feel rotten but it just seemed to make him feel angrier as he tried to force this guilt away. "He has magic and doesn't do anything with it and the rest of us just have to live with that!"

"So that's it?" said Winter. "You're jealous?"

"And what if I am? All of you get these big powers: Moon can read minds and see the future, Peril can burn anything she touches, Turtle is an animus! Even you two," he pointed a claw between Winter and Kinkajou, "are a master spy and a prince! What am I compared to all that? Nothing! I don't have anything; no powers, no abilities, no status! And I've got to be just fine with it, be ordinary and envy all of you from the sidelines, even when I know exactly what I would do with just even one tenth of your powers!"

His voice rang across the valley into silence. His friends stared at him as his words sank in. Abruptly, all the bluster and hot air seemed to vanish and Qibli felt small and deflated. Now what?

Sniffling, it was Turtle who spoke up. "You're right. I'm useless. If you want, maybe I can give you my power."

Qibli felt his stomach turn cold. Right there was the offer he'd always dreamt he'd hear, the chance to realise all his dreams within reach. But it felt wrong, like he was stealing one of Turtle's arms away from him.

"Turtle," Qibli began in a fractured, uncertain voice. "I didn't mean…"

"WINTER!"

They all startled and turned to find Sunny barreling down out of the afternoon sky. She was a streak of beautiful gold through the air, her bright eyes big and filled with worry. She pulled open her wings to stop just a few feet above their heads, hovering, panting. "Prince Winter! You need to come quick! It's Princess Crystal - she's here!"

Qibli looked to Winter, who had a shocked expression on his features. But the IceWing didn't turn to him, instead seeming to contemplate something on his own before nodding and leaping into the sky to follow Sunny back towards the Mountain. Turtle and Kinkajou followed him quickly - Qibli almost stopped them, to apologise or what… he didn't know.

Peril was the only one who stopped to look at him, her pale blue eyes piercing in their intensity. "You know, for the smartest dragon we know, you really can be dense sometimes."

Her words rang in his head as she took off. Qibli hesitated, unsure what to do. He'd been feeling this envy for so long, it had felt righteous, but now that the words were in the open air where he couldn't take them back - why did he feel so awful? With a sigh and a promise to sort out his feelings later, he leapt into the air and soared after his friends towards Jade Mountain.

They all convened with the remainders of the Jade Winglet in the entrance hall. There, Qibli saw their new guest. Princess Crystal, if at her finest, looked like she belonged straight out of a fairytale. She was one of the most beautiful dragons he'd even seen, with glittering white scales like fresh powdered snow, and aquamarine eyes. She was laid on the floor by the wall, her long graceful neck drooping as she tried to regain her breath. It was clear she was exhausted, her wings trembling from fatigue. Had she flown all the way here from the Ice Kingdom?

Winter was hunched in front of her, offering her a cup of water from which she gratefully drank. He was already speaking to Crystal when Qibli arrived, and he heard him ask: "What would possess you to come all this way, cousin?"

"It's… it's m-mother," Crystal's voice was slightly hoarse from having her deep gulping breaths. "There was… an assassin… Glacier is… she is… dying!"

"What?!" Winter gasped.

Tsunami stepped forward. "An assassin? Who?"

"Is Glacier alright?" asked Clay.

Crystal shook her head. "It was… it was a NightWing. He ambushed her. Told her… the Darkstalker sends his regards."

A chilly silence fell over the room. Peril shook her head, dismayed. "That can't be - the war is over,"

"Not for them!" Winter growled.

Tsunami frowned at the floor. "It couldn't have been Deathbringer, he's been here until he left with Glory and the RainWings this morning."

"Do the NightWings have other assassins?" Sunny asked.

"What is Glacier's condition?" Starflight asked.

"She's barely holding on," Crystal said, regaining more of her voice. "The wound acts as if it were poisoned, but if this is Darkstalker's work…"

"It might also be magical," Turtle finished for her.

"That's why I came here," Crystal said, taking hold of Winter's talon in her own. "Mother trusted you, listened to you when you warned us about the Darkstalker. You have seen him, know more about him than any of us. You were the only dragon I could think of who might be able to help her."

Starflight came forward with Fatespeaker, who drew out a blank scroll from her satchel; she dutifully took notes as Starflight spoke. "Please, if you could recall every detail about Glacier's symptoms, from the attack right up until you left the palace?"

Whilst the princess described the situation for Starflight, Tsunami, Winter and Sunny came back to the rest of the Jade Winglet (Clay had some knowledge on poisons and healing so thought to help Starflight perhaps identify the potential affliction of the Queen). They all exchanged grim expressions as they huddled together to speak in quiet tones. It was exhausting to realise that once again, their entire perspective about the world had been flipped on its head. Qibli could pull his head out of his own backside to see that they all now stood on the precipice, and one wrong move would send them all falling to their doom.

"I knew it," Winter said between clenched teeth. But there was something in his voice, and Qibli was unsure if he said the words angrily or in shocked fear. Maybe both. "I knew it! The moment he got his powers back, Darkstalker tried to destroy my tribe! For him, the war with the IceWings was never over."

"But then why send an assassin?" Tsunami questioned. "He had Glacier right in front of him in the rainforest. Everyone was spoiling for a fight, why not just take the opportunity to kill her then?"

Peril nodded in agreement. "Or why not just snap his claws and have her fall over dead? He's got animus magic, why bother with assassins and knives?"

"Maybe to cause confusion?" Kinkajou suggested. "Maybe to kill Glacier out of sight so then the rest of us wouldn't side with the IceWings against him."

"Exactly!" Winter exclaimed. "He wanted to make us weak, wanted to strike us when we were least expecting it."

"Maybe," Qibli tapped his claws on the stony floor, his mind flying through everything he knew about Darkstalker, about the attack, about all the possible outcomes this could lead to. Something wasn't adding up in his head, but he couldn't quite find the thread that would unravel this knot. "But it still feels too mundane and too selective. If Darkstalker really wanted revenge, why not kill all the IceWings?"

Turtle looked pale. "Isn't killing Glacier bad enough?"

"Yes, but if she dies, then one of her daughters will take the throne and go to war in vengeance. Why risk war with his tribe when they've only just stopped the previous one?"

"But the assassin said Darkstalker sent him," said Tsunami, but the expression on her face was hard and full of questions too. "Until we have evidence to say otherwise, I think we need to assume this is the truth."

"So then… what do we do now?" Sunny asked.

"I…" Turtle began to mumble. His eyes flicked to Qibli quickly before looking away, and the SandWing felt a stab of guilt. "I could help."

Tsunami gave Turtle a look. "Are you sure?"

"That's very kind of you, Turtle," Sunny said with a kind smile. "But if anyone can find a cure for this poison, Starflight and Clay will."

"But what if it's not poison?" Kinkajou asked.

Peril snorted, clouds of soot and smoke escaping her nostrils. "That would be the smart thing. Enchant the knife to act like poison."

"So then we give Crystal Skyfire," Winter said, looking to Qibli, who still had the shards they'd found in the river. He always kept them in the pouch strapped to his ankle - he never took it off. "It'll protect her from Darkstalker's magic."

Sunny frowned. "What's Skyfire?"

"And what if it isn't magic?" Qibli countered. "Or what if there's magic and poison?"

"Ooooooooooh, super sneaky!" Peril whistled almost appreciatively.

"That's why it has to be me," said Turtle somberly. "Only I can stop it."

Tsunami looked stricken. "But then that might expose you."

Sunny's head darted between Tsunami and Turtle, her expression growing more frustrated with every word spoken. "Expose him to what? Why is he the only one who can do this?"

The SeaWing princess winced in guilt before slowly turning to look at her adopted sister. "Turtle… he is, um…"

"I'm an animus," he finished for her. Turtle glanced again at Qibli. "I've hidden it for too long. I need to be brave and actually help dragons in need now."

It felt like Qibli's heart was twisting itself in knots. That wasn't what he had meant when he'd gone on his tirade, and to think that Turtle was doing this because of what he said… Why did it make him feel so at fault? Like Turtle had been the first one to fall off the cliff and Qibli was stood with his arms still outstretched after pushing him.

Sunny's jaw fell open in shock, and then she whispered a quiet "I knew it! Clay owes me ten lizards!"

Tsunami did a double take. "You guys had a bet?!"

The little SandWing rolled her eyes. "You didn't honestly think we were that dumb, did you?"

Turtle looked to Winter. "I could enchant something to heal Glacier?"

"Qibli?" the SandWing drake was caught off guard when he realised Winter automatically looked to him for direction. "What do you think?"

"Me?" he echoed dumbly.

"You always think of everything, even the seemingly most insignificant detail. We need you to think of all the angles if we're going to make this spell work."

"Even after I…" A wave of unworthiness washed through him. After how he'd behaved today, Winter still had faith in him? Looking around at his other friends, he realised none of them still held resentment, not even Turtle, who just watched him expectantly. He wanted to crawl away and hide; he didn't deserve their friendship.

"We still need you," Winter brushed his wing against Qibli's and in a quiet voice - almost to the point where Qibli couldn't hear him - he said, "I need you."

It took a second for Qibli's brain to scramble back together, to take this ballooning feeling and have it motivate his brain into working overtime. He went over to Fatespeaker and interrupted their conversation with Crystal to quickly ask for another scroll and ink pot. The dragoness hurriedly obliged from her satchel. Returning to the others, Qibli sat and began to scribble notes. "Okay… yes, we need a healing spell, one that will bring Glacier back to full health from before the attack. It needs to cancel any spell Darkstalker has placed on her and protect her from any spell he might try to put on her in the future."

"Good, good," Tsunami said. "Why not also make it so that he can't see her getting better in the future? If he did plan this, he's probably watching the futures and'll get suspicious if he doesn't see her dying anymore."

Turtle nodded eagerly. "I could make her completely invisible to him like I am!"

"That'll look too suspicious," Winter shook his head. "He'll still be able to perceive the other IceWings and see them deferring to the judgement of a Queen he cannot see."

"Buuuuuuut," Kinkajou said in a sing-song voice. "We could still make it so he cannot read her mind anymore or see her in the future. That'll still totally mess with him."

"Are you gonna make it instant?" asked Peril. "Snap a twig and have Glacier suddenly get better?"

"No," Turtle said, his conviction strong. "After reading Fathom's journal, I don't want to make spells that affect dragons directly. It feels wrong. No, we'll put the spell on a piece of jewellery, that way it'll be her choice."

"How about this," Qibli said, unhooking his own earring, a gold ring with a piece of amber dangling from it. "Put the spell on it and duplicate it, we can send Crystal back with a handful to give to the royal family so that Darkstalker cannot come after them either."

"Why must it be on the ugliest piece of jewellery ever invented?"

No one listened to his complaints as Turtle took the earring and whispered the spell that Qibli had concocted on the scroll. Then he duplicated the earring in his claws (his duplication bowl had been stolen along with his other magical items when the NightWings had imprisoned them, some of which he has already replaced). When he had a sizeable amount, he handed them to Winter who took them to Princess Crystal. Clay, Starflight and Fatespeaker moved out of his way, watching him curiously.

"Take these," he said, giving her a pouch filled with the earrings. "Give one to the Queen to heal her, and the others to the rest of the royal family and council. They will protect you from any and all of Darkstalker's spells. We will have more made for the rest of the tribe and will send them when we can. But you must go now before it's too late."

Crystal's wings gave a shudder, as if the very thought of racing across the continent in a day and a night again made her feel even weaker than she already was. "But I-"

"This one is yours," the prince said, handing her a single earring. "It will restore your full strength for the journey ahead."

The moment the earring made contact with her palm, Crystal gasped. Qibli could see a physical change come over her. Her wings no longer trembled and she sat straighter, her scales looking fresh. The SandWing pondered when Turtle must've made that particular enchantment to that one earring. Crystal stared between Winter and his friends. "You have an animus…?"

"See it as a gift," was all he said.

There was a pause as Crystal seemed to measure Winter in her mind. It was like there was some hidden meaning between them. That was when the resemblance between the cousins became clear - they had the same straight snout, the same shape to their brow, the same honesty in their eyes. Whatever wordless communication passed between them, it seemed to bridge a certain understanding between them. Qibli didn't know the significance, but he breathed a little easier when Crystal nodded and stepped back. She hooked the earring in her ear, and strapped the pouch around the base of her neck.

Saying her thanks and goodbyes, the princess quickly ran out the entrance hall, dove off the steep side of the mountain and took off once again, a spring of hope in her wingbeats. The occupants of Jade Mountain watched her leave until she was a mere speck on the northern horizon. Even then, they stood on the edge, looking at the sky, and feeling an unseasonably cold wind blow across their scales.

"So," Tsunami was the first to break the silence. "Do we really think Darkstalker could be this dangerous?"

Starflight sighed. "And do we prepare for yet another war if he is?"

"Real question is," said Clay. "If the answer to both of those is 'yes', what're we going to do about it?"

No one had warned Moon that being a royal advisor would be so chaotic. No one ever described how, from the moment she stepped outside her door, she would be bombarded with dragons asking for her opinion on everything and nothing. She barely even had peace for her meals. After everything that had happened last night with Anemone, she just wanted to sink into obscurity, to settle her nerves. But even then, thoughts of Anemone's crazed look, her spiteful words, her broken spirit, it all flashed through Moon's mind at random intervals, like a shark striking up to the surface from the murky fathoms below. She couldn't even distract herself by going to Darkstalker and just allowing her mind to drift away and try to enjoy herself in his company. When she'd reached out to his mind, he was faint with distance, speaking to a dragon about crops and gardening. He promised he would find her when his current situation was over and they would both have a chance to relax.

Moon held onto that promise as she went about her duties. Just like last night, she distracted herself from the pit of grief in her stomach by throwing herself into her work, becoming too busy to dwell on much else. She went to the library and continued her task of cataloguing all the ancient restored scrolls. The highlight of her early evening was when a dragonet, perhaps around five years old, came into the library asking for reading material about architecture. By some stroke of luck, Moon had only just put away a scroll from an old NightWing professor who had studied all the ancient palaces from all the tribes and wrote down all his comparing notes.

When she handed the young drake his scroll, he'd held the scroll very carefully, a mix of awe and uncertainty in his eyes. Moon had felt accomplished in that moment - it reminded her of her days teaching the dragonets of the Rebellion, and that was always a happy memory. But that small happiness quickly soured, for even when this NightWing dragonet said 'thank you', his mind was half filled with anxiety over her intentions, and how his mother would disapprove if he was caught.

It was as the dragonet was leaving that Moon noticed that Vulture stood in the massive doorway to the library, watching her with a quiet look she could not differentiate. She tried to carry on as if she were unbothered by his presence, a practice she was getting better at. Vulture stalked into the library slowly, his black eyes darting around, taking in every detail in that way that was so eerily similar to Qibli. The old SandWing sat by his desk, his movements a little stiff as if his joints ached - an act, Moon was half sure, to give her a false sense of security.

"Good evening, Vulture," Moon said, not pulling away from her work. "It's almost midnight yet you don't seem bothered by the hour. I hope you're not forsaking the sun completely."

He huffed a chuckle through his nose. "Since I was young, I've made a habit of enjoying the night. Parties that would go on till dawn, drinking, betting, fighting, everything I could indulge in. That is the reward for obtaining power."

"Delightful,"

Though he tried, he wasn't sly enough to hide the roll of his eyes at her sarcasm. "Anyway, I came here to deliver a message. Representatives from the egg-minders have called for you to attend a meeting. They await you at Silver Bridge at the edges of the canyons."

The egg-minders? Moon recognised the name from the crumbs of information she'd garnered in the minds of the one or two NightWings who had defected to the rebellion. They'd been in charge of the Nursery back on the island; females tasked with keeping watch over the eggs and expectant mothers. What would they want with her? Curiosity getting the better of her, Moon decided to quickly put away her current and task and head for Silver Bridge immediately.

"You're doing better than I'd thought, you know," Vulture said as she passed him.

Moon turned to narrow her eyes at him. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You're a quiet one, usually the quiet ones don't do well in positions of power. They get overwhelmed. But you've done better than I expected - no small feat. Even if your heart might still be too soft for this work in the long run."

"Too soft?"

"You care so much for others," Vulture's voice was like sap masquerading as honey - trickling into every crevice and leaving a bitter after taste. He stood to slowly come up beside her. "…and that means that when the hard decisions come, you will falter. That is why the only princesses to become queens are the ones who can stomach killing their own mother and following through. Leadership takes a certain ruthlessness. And that is something you will never have."

"And you would prefer I give that position to you?"

He cracked a smile, and his grey tongue slithered over his fangs. "It would certainly make things easier for him."

Moon frowned. "For who?"

"Darkstalker." Vulture turned his head to stare directly into her eyes, and Moon felt a shiver run across her entire body. There was a fracture in the old SandWing's mind, a reveal of something that had been hidden from her sight until now. In it there was frustration, impatience - he thought her to be a naive fool, a clumsy dragonet who threatened his desires more out of obliviousness than any shred of competency. When he looked at her, Moon saw an old beast with his teeth barely concealed, leaning into her with an almost territorial look in his eyes. The way the moonlight half obscured his face in shadow only added to the eerie glint in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was a quiet rattle. "Your weakness cannot hold him back. As much as you want to think he doesn't, he has that ruthless tenacity that leaders are made of. And you will only get in his way."

Her talons were rooted to the ground, her spine felt as if it had been turned to stone. She dared not move. Vulture went to move away, and she thought she could finally breathe easy. But then he paused and turned back to look at her, all that deadly sharpness gone, replaced with a humorous smile.

"You are a great friend and so very dear to him. It's a shame no one else will be as welcoming."

Before Moon could coldly dismiss him as she wanted to, Vulture slunk away into the night. For a second she stood there, huffing through her nose, torn between the urge to cry or roar in anger. How dare he speak to her that way? How dare he think so little of her? And yet, she couldn't stop his words turning through her head like a plough, cutting and churning and turning her thoughts all over the place. In the end, she told herself to ignore him - that was the greatest insult she could think of for dragons like Vulture, to show them how insignificant they were. When on the street, she leapt into the sky and made her way west towards Silver Bridge.

Three females awaited her, two looked to be in their forties - one was large with dark circles beneath her eyes, the other had half an ear missing. The last female looked to be only a few years older than Moon, and whilst that might've inspired Moon to think she had an ally here, this dragoness' appearance quickly dissuaded any notion of that. Her dull-blue eyes were severe and her expression appeared permanently disgruntled. Iron hoop earrings hung from her ears, and she watched Moon land with an expression like a crocodile watching prey approach the river.

"So good of you to join us," said one of the older females - the one with circles beneath her eyes. Moon wrestled with her belief in a dragon's privacy and her training that told her to know who she was dealing with. Considering the tension she could feel before this "talk" had even begun, she decided to swallow her reservations and searched the dragoness' mind and found her name was Smokeseer. From the way she was standing, she seemed to be the leader of this group.

"Sorry," said Moon. "I only just received your message to meet. Um… may I ask what this is about?"

No confidence, no assertion of authority, whispered the mind of the younger female - her thoughts were sharp and knotted like a thicket of thorns. Moon was loath to touch them for fear of being pricked, but her training kicked in. It only took a little navigating and she was shocked to discover this dragon was Fierceteeth, Starflight's half sister! He had only thought of her briefly in Jade Mountain, as he didn't really know of her considering they'd only met for a few moments on the NightWing island before the explosion. The resemblance between the siblings was limited - they only shared the same shape of face that they presumably got from their shared mother. Moon hoped Fierceteeth might share her brother's inner gentleness, but she was soon proven wrong as the dragoness' thoughts continued: She is weak, but stay guarded if she really can read minds. But then, if her powers are true, how doesn't she know what we want before we even ask it?

"Oh, so this is about my powers then?" Moon answered herself. "You want to know how the new eggs can achieve the powers of old?" It didn't take any future-sight to work that out. These were the egg minders and as such the duty of looking out for all the eggs in the nursery fell to them on the old island and presumably in the rainforest as well.

The females looked a little surprised that she was so blunt about it. They exchanged looks, their thoughts wondering between each other on how to proceed. Smokeseer recovered first, clearing her throat and holding her head higher. "Yes. With the tribe now returned to our ancestral home, it is only fitting that we reclaim the powers that are our birthright."

"We thought," hissed Fierceteeth, "that once we left the island, its poison would no longer keep affecting our hatchlings. But they are all still just as ordinary and unremarkable as they were before!"

The last female, the one with a missing ear, stepped forward. "Your mother somehow knew how to give you both telepathy and foresight. Is it a bloodline thing? What was she told that we weren't?"

"No it has nothing to do with bloodlines," Moon sighed - she knew where this was headed. "And my mother wasn't privy to any secret information, she just got lucky."

"How?" Smokeseer's eyes narrowed.

"It was moonlight."

The egg minders exchanged confused glances. Their thoughts echoed each other around and around. They wondered if that was a code, or if Moon was lying, or how moonlight had anything to do with it.

Moon? She was startled when Darkstalker's voice popped into her head, a little quiet from the distance but still clear. I'm almost finished with the Council, if you still wanted to meet up? I need to tell you all about this dragon I met - he's such a funny fellow! Loves his gardening. Told you I could make friends all by myself.

You meet a dragon for one night and you're already best friends? Moon teased. And I would love to, I just need to finish up something here. 'Official' business.

Oh? Who is it?

The egg-minders.

Ugh, what a bunch of harpies. Good luck trying to get them to so much as crack a smile. What do they want?

They want to know about where our powers come from.

He laughed. I will magic-myself fluorescent pink if you tell them they need to sing nursery rhymes back to front to the eggs. I would pay any price to see that.

While that might be tempting, I don't want anyone else coming after me in revenge. Once has been quite enough.

Earthbreaker would appreciate my humour, he said, and Moon saw a picture in his head of the dragon he'd met earlier. A short and stout NightWing with a crisscross of scars across his snout, his talons wrist-deep in mud. Alright then. Whenever you're finished, I'll be waiting for you in the garden.

And with that, he left her mind once again, and Moon chose to interrupt the whispering females. She explained it as simply as she could. In her opinion, there was no reason to keep secrets like this - it felt relatively exciting to think there would soon be other dragons like her in the world. "NightWings are nocturnal. We have an intimate relationship with the moons and stars. A NightWing egg needs to be under moonlight when they hatch. If they hatch beneath the light of one full moon, they will be gifted with either telepathy or foresight. Hatching beneath two full moons grants both - though one might be stronger than the other, depending."

"What about three full moons?" asked Fierceteeth, and Moon caught a glimpse of Starflight in her thoughts.

"What a ridiculous notion!" Smokeseer dismissed, her lips curled downward. "I've never heard of such a practice - it sounds completely unsafe and against every tradition we have. Where would the eggs even be kept?"

Moon gestured to the canyons laid out before them. "From what I have learned, expectant mothers would place their eggs on the roofs of the canyons above where she resided. She would put them out there when it was close to their time. Then the moons would decide their fate."

Smokeseer shook her head. "Not possible. How're the eggs supposed to be managed? They need to be managed every waking hour. We would never act so… frivolous!"

Even Wisdom nodded. "We were given this duty. You are asking us to relinquish our jobs so that the mothers can care for the eggs - which they do not know how to do."

"Because you don't let them," Moon caught the growing frustration in her tone. She took a breath. "I understand that on the island, you had to do things for the sake of preserving the eggs-"

"You wouldn't know anything!" Fierceteeth hissed. "We had to watch eggs day in and day out; see them wither and die or coach mothers into helping their sick and weak hatchlings into the world. You didn't get any of that because your mother was a-"

"My mother saved me." The words shot out of Moon's mouth with a ferocity that surprised her. It was a fierceness that brokered no argument, that threatened something violent if another wrong word was spoken. It spooked Moon that she could be driven to such an extreme so easily, but something inside her felt like it was fraying. She'd lost so much, and after Anemone's words last night, it felt like too much to have one more dragon say anything else about her mother. "Whatever you wish to believe, I stand as proof of what I say: my mother cared for my egg, she did as instinct and her heart told her and I came out fine. Let the mothers care for their eggs and dragonets as they should naturally do. The moonlight gave me my powers and if you want the next generation to have those same powers, you will take my advice and let them hatch beneath the moon."

The females were quiet for a moment, stunned but a little respectful of the change in her tone. Smokeseer, her brow still furrowed a little as her thoughts still went in circles over all this information, was the first to break the silence. "Then why did Morrowseer tell us differently?"

"He told us," said Fierceteeth in agreement, "that the eggs needed to be kept in the vault, safe and inside. He knew our answers all along and kept them from us?" and then in her thoughts, Moon heard a small voice, like Fierceteeth was once again a little dragonet, wondering what she could've done to make her life not so miserable. It has nothing to do with bloodlines? We all could've been special… and were denied?

Moon sighed, saddened at the fact she wasn't surprised by this news of her father's further duplicity. It made sense why he lied. He wanted control over the tribe, and if he made it appear that there was something special about his bloodline, about himself and Moon, then he'd have the tribe always looking to him. Yet another thing for Moon to feel ashamed of by association. Another thing to add to her emotional confusion over her grief.

"He wanted the power for himself," said Wisdom, as if she had read the answer on Moon's face. But her expression was not angry, and her mind was filled with… sympathy? For Moon? "I believe her."

"What?!" squawked Smokeseer and Fierceteeth in unison.

"She has no reason to lie to us. And everything she says makes logical sense - sort of." Wisdom shrugged. "Maybe we should try it her way - at least for a few of the eggs due to hatch, and see if it's true for ourselves."

"And if it is?" Smokeseer demanded. "That would put us out of a job!"

"But make the tribe stronger," Moon countered. "We would have our powers again. Mothers would have their dragonets to themselves. It would make families again. And you can still keep a job - someone will need to keep records of who is having eggs and when, and you can still make inspections to be sure all the eggs are healthy. Being a Midwife is a noble occupation."

Smokeseer's moth flapped open and closed several times, as if she was trying to speak but didn't have the words. Fierceteeth was quiet, her expression contemplative as her mind wandered, thinking that it wouldn't be so bad afterall to no longer be an egg-minder. She could do anything she wanted now. Wisdom even looked a little… happy? Relieved? Moon wasn't sure which. In any case, this meeting was done as far as she was concerned. She had a headache brewing from all this stress and wanted nothing more than to go to the gardens and relax. Moon mumbled her goodbyes and turned to leap back into the air.

As she went to leave, however, she caught one last disdainful thought from Fierceteeth: Must be nonsense, right? Otherwise how could an accident of birth land someone like her, weak and an outsider, somewhere so important?

Moon tried to brush off the sting of those words as she flew back towards the castle. But it was hard. Everyone saw her in all the ways she didn't fit - they either feared her for her position or her powers or who she was related to, or else they hated and envied that she'd lived a life free from the restraints and hardships they'd endured. Why couldn't they see things how she could? Why couldn't they understand that everyone had their own sufferings? There was no point in competing for who had the most pain. In that moment, she wished they did have her telepathy, then they could see inside her and others around them and realise that they were all the same. They all had fears and hurts and wants and dreams. The world might not be so cruel if all dragons knew that more things united them than separated them.

And what if everyone was right? What if Vulture, the NightWings, Fierceteeth - what if deep down they were all right? Perhaps Moon wasn't suited to this, maybe she wasn't meant to be here. She'd only been a royal advisor for two nights and already the stress of the job was getting to her. No one here trusted her fully (aside from Darkstalker). And her grief was only weighing her further down. It was like quicksand, this terrible emotional mess: with each inconvenience causing her to sink further and further into the muck, slowly drowning her.

The headache was starting to throb in the back of her skull and Moon took a deep breath of warm air. She vaguely wished for autumn to be on its way sooner, cool and crisp air would be so welcoming rattling through her lungs. Refreshing, awakening.

As he promised, Darkstalker was waiting for her in the gardens. They had never gotten round to fixing the gardens in their many nights trying to repair the city. Landing amidst beds filled with overgrown weeds and withered shrubs, fountains and walls and statues crumbling or covered in vines and ivy, it was like stepping back in time to when the city had been little more than a ruin. It felt jarring but also… slightly nostalgic. When times were simpler, when Moon had none of these issues pressing on her as she did right now. Darkstalker sat near one of the central beds that seemed to have a pyramid of tangled overgrowth at its centre. He was holding onto one plant, inspecting it between his claws. He must've sensed her coming because right as her feet touched the ground he turned to her, his smile bright.

But obviously something on her face must've shown at least some of her upset. Darkstalker's smile dropped and he came to her, worry in his thoughts immediately. "What happened? Is something the matter?"

She automatically shook her head, even if trying to deflect felt more exhausting than actually admitting to these feelings. "It's nothing - nothing I shouldn't be able to handle, anyway."

"Doesn't mean you should handle it on your own."

"It's just the NightWings being… NightWings," she eventually said with a sigh, and she told him of what had transpired with the egg-minders.

"I told you they were harpies," he tried to joke, but when it didn't make her laugh, he gently leant down to bump his nose against hers. Softly, he said: "It will get better, Moon. I promise. They just don't know you, but once they do they will trust you."

"That scenario seems very far away,"

"But we will see to it, together."

Moon tried a wry smile. "Easy for you to say. At least they respect you."

He grimaced a little. "Mostly out of fear, or in awe of my power; not admiration. You helped me to get used to this world, so I will use whatever I can to get them used to you."

The quicksand in her mind eased up a little - it was relieving to know he had her back. "How do you make everything sound so easy?"

"My dear, when you have seen for yourself the very end of rock-bottom, you know that everything else is a step up." He shot her a cheesy grin that got Moon to chuckle a little. Then, he snapped his claws, as if just remembering something. "Ah! I know what'll cheer you up. Flowers!"

This came so out of the blue that Moon had no choice but to give the biggest sarcastic expression she could. "Yes. Because as you know I am always arranging bouquets from my thousands of suitors."

"No, but you will like this. Thousands of years ago, our gardeners had been cultivating plants that bloomed in the moonlight. Only the very best grew in these gardens. They were the envy of the world! The greatest of which were the lunae-ortus."

Moon looked around them and tried to imagine what these flowerbeds and shrubs must've looked like in their heyday. It was hard to picture it - everything was so overgrown and broken and out of shape. She tried to think of the flowers that used to grow in the rainforest when she was a dragonet, the pinks and oranges and red would look out of place in this kingdom of silvers and blues.

"Here," Darkstalker excitedly pulled her under his wing directing her gaze to the pyramid of weeds in front of them. "Watch…"

He began to whisper words she could not quite make out, but she felt the magic like a tingle over her scales as it rushed past her like air passing over her wings when she flew. A force she could not see with her naked eye but was brought into colours of gold and amethyst and sapphire in her imagination. And as she watched, the vines and the weeds shrivelled and disappeared, the soil became clean and rich, and all dead things were removed. A fountain was revealed at the centre of the flowerbed, with two tiers of bowls that gathered and spilled over water in wonderfully tranquil trickles. At the top of the fountain, was a sculpture of a dragon (Moon couldn't make out what tribe it seemed to be from) with the three crescent moons balanced on each wing and between its horns. Water poured from the statue's eyes. And then below the fountain, the flowerbed came into shape, with shrubs that were neatly cut and in perfect health. Buds sprouted and opened to reveal flowers in luminescent green and violet. And then Moon looked around and gasped to see that the entire garden had been transformed. All the beds were neat and well kept, the hedges trimmed and comfortingly enclosed. She saw bluebell-like flowers that were silver and attracted fireflies. Lampposts had been revealed, small bowls at the top of dark iron posts that held an oil-like mixture that burned with very little smoke.

And there, right at the edge of the garden, growing up a lattice so that the thorny tendrils grew into a perfect circle, were the most beautiful flowers Moon had ever seen. She felt drawn to it, walking out from beneath Darkstalker's wing to get closer. They looked like roses, but they were a stunning, shimmering blue that seemed to glow when the moonlight hit them just right. She reached out and cradled one in her talon, feeling the impossibly soft petals between her fingers. The scent that drifted to her nose was not strong - it teased at her senses, as if promising a rich fragrance but being just beyond her reach. Moon couldn't even describe what it smelt similar too, just that the feeling it invoked made the shoulders of her wings relax. This must be the lunae-ortus Darkstalker had mentioned. There was nothing else it could've been.

She heard gravel crunch under footsteps - how had she not noticed that the pathways were now made of clean white pebbles - and knew Darkstalker was coming up beside her. He was large and warm by her side, his tail falling close to hers but not touching. In his mind played the music that was always there, and Moon could feel his happiness shining out of him. She looked up to find him smiling softly down at her.

"This is the beauty we can have here," he said - something in his voice sounded odd, like he was choked or nervous. "Beneath all the ugliness, there is something grand waiting to be discovered. You and I can do that. We can return our tribe to their former glory, we can make peace across the tribes - we can make this world so much better than how we found it."

For a moment, Moon could see that future as clearly as the blue roses in front of her. Not a vision, just a realisation. A future where the NightWings were once again renowned scholars and architects and engineers, a tribe who used their gifts for their own happiness and not for some superior agenda. She could see a future where she ran the library and then advised the teachers and the council and the queen. A life where she would go to festivals in the Diamond Quarter and every dragon would know her name and bow their heads to her as she passed. Home was either a luxurious suite in the palace or an estate with guards and servants. She would attend meetings with other tribes, and would be working to ensure peace across Pyrrhia for the rest of her life. She would be someone important, someone to be respected and feared.

"And we can find happiness," came Darkstalker's voice, a tiny wobble somewhere in there. Moon looked at him, saw his expression as he gazed down at her - all the warmth in the world in his eyes. She knew he was imagining this future too. In his voice she could hear that he wanted to make that future a reality - in his voice there was that power to believe that all things which seemed impossible were real. Moon just had to fall into it and it would be real for her as well. No more sadness, no more doubts, no more quicksand.

Once more she was aware of the sudden blurring of their two worlds, the falling of that soft gauze curtain which obscured the line between fact and fantasy. She was completely in control of my own faculties – she knew impossible things such as unicorns and griffons did not exist. Yet, if Darkstalker said them, she had only to listen and they would exist in his voice; the dream would become reality the moment she abandoned her disbelief.*

But that was it… she didn't want to. The dream of that wonderful future was there, waiting for her to take out her talons and grasp it and she would materialise into that dragon, her potential finally fully realised. And maybe she would do that someday soon - but not right now. Vulture's whispers, the disdain of her tribe, her grief, it all felt too much to combat right now. She wanted to crawl away and lick her wounds until she could return at full strength to seize that dream with everything she had. Before she became that dragon, she wanted to feel insignificant, mundane, normal. She wanted to see her friends, the Jade Winglet, again. She wanted to feel their love and be away from all this responsibility. She wanted the comfort of Jade Mountain, to grieve in a place that felt like a time before her sadness.

He sensed it, and accepting her unexpected resistance, Darkstalker fell silent. Moon had never resisted the lure of his voice before, and she knew he was disturbed by his failure to draw her with him into that dream-land. Doubt and sadness passed in fleeting succession through his eyes.*

And she knew it was going to hurt (for the both of them), but the words felt drawn out of her like a prophecy. Unable to be denied, unable to be silenced.

"I want to leave."