Chapter Fifty Two
The Dragons of Destiny led the way through the mountain, the Jade Winglet following, and Moon closed amongst them. As they traversed the halls, Moon couldn't help but notice how empty and cold it seemed without so many dragons here. Was it really so long ago, when she'd first come here, that it had felt too noisy, too packed, too squashed in… Now Moon missed all the other dragons. Jade Mountain didn't feel like a home without the corridors echoing with chatter and laughter. She hoped Peril was right, and that the Dragons of Destiny were thinking about starting a school here - that would help to make it feel more like a home again, she thought.
What probably didn't help her sense of discomfort, was the shere silence of the group as they moved. No one really spoke, and everyone had some kind of enchantment that kept their thoughts silent. All that is, except for Peril, but Moon couldn't see behind the flames in her mind most of the time anyway. They couldn't all have Skyfire, the comet was buried beneath the waves off the coast of the Night Kingdom. So what else could keep her out? That was when Moon noticed that the Dragons of Destiny and Turtle all had the exact same earring on. Gold and amber and that looked to match Qibli's. What on earth…?
Her thoughts were cut short when she realised where they were going. The war chamber? Moon hesitated on the threshold, memories crashing through her mind. The last time she'd seen this place, it was on fire. The explosion she'd barely managed to save everyone from. It had been such chaos, so much confusion and pain. It had been six months since then. The walls had been scrubbed, but Moon could still smell the soot and smoke. The old war table was gone, replaced with something smaller, simpler. The room was also void of any other furniture or papers. It looked almost barren, clinical. It was now just a room for them all to congregate and discuss, not plan and strategise. This was further confirmed when the Dragons of Destiny took seats around the far end of the table facing the entryway, and the Jade Winglet sat facing them. Moon sat herself between Winter and Kinkajou.
No one volunteered to speak first. There was a long, uncomfortable silence, as if everyone was waiting for someone else to start things off.
"Alright," Moon said eventually. "Someone needs to tell me what's going on. What happened to Queen Glacier?"
"First of all," Tsunami said, her ears pricking as if she was trying to listen for something. "Darkstalker isn't coming after you, right? He's still in the Night Kingdom? Right now?"
Clay put a talon on his nest-mate's shoulder. "Don't worry, Tsunami, he can't get past the shield, we're safe."
Moon nodded along. "Yes, Darkstalker is in the Night Kingdom. As are all the other NightWings."
"And my grandfather," Qibli said in a guarded tone, his eyes uncharacteristically dark. "What's he doing there?"
Just even bringing up Vulture's name made Moon's wings shift uncomfortably along her back, their last interaction still sour in her memory. "He showed up a few weeks ago. He'd heard about Darkstalker and came to see if the rumours were true. He claims to be there to help him."
"Help him with what?"
"Vulture wants to push Darkstalker towards ruling the tribe, I think. He confuses me - sometimes he talks about a world in need of correction and other times he just wants to bask in the glory of magic."
Peril made a face. "Sounds like he wants Darkstalker to take over."
"My grandfather never liked playing the servant," Qibli muttered. "There's something else going on."
"Doesn't matter anyway, as Darkstalker is not ruling the tribe," Moon felt the need to clarify. "Greatness is our Queen, and she has a council who helps her run the Kingdom. Darkstalker is merely an advisor."
The dragons of destiny blinked and exchanged looks. "That's… not what we were expecting…"
"And what were you expecting?" Moon pressed. When she was met with more awkward silence, she resisted the urge to grind her teeth in frustration. "Is anyone going to tell me anything because you all seem to have shut me out of your heads so I can't just know what it is you wish to say."
Silence, but this time not awkward, everyone was staring at her. Half in confusion, half in panic. It was then Moon realised her mistake - she forgot she never told the Dragons of Destiny about her powers. Oh stardust and moon-vomit…
"Wait, what?!" Tsunami said, her voice strangled her eyes growing increasingly furious.
Starflight tilted his head in Moon's direction, his mouth half hanging open, his voice an awed whisper. "You're a mind-reader, aren't you…"
"But wait… that's impossible," Sunny shook her head, alarmed. "You told us the NightWings no longer have powers!"
"The rest of them don't, that's true," said Moon, tiredly reconciling that she was in for a long explanation, and had possibly just burned her last bridge. "The NightWings purposefully hid their eggs from the full moons - which give us our power - so that they would not risk another Darkstalker. The pollution of the volcano ensured it. But I was hatched in the rainforest, beneath two full moons, so I was born with telepathy and precognition."
Starflight's claws were tapping lightly on the table, and Moon could imagine his mind jumping from conclusion to conclusion. "That's how you knew about the explosion on your hatching day - you saw a vision and tried to stop it. And that's why your father wanted you back so badly. Being the only NightWing with the old powers made you the perfect weapon," And then an odd, sad look came over his face. "Does that mean… if I'd been born under the three full moons…?"
"You would've been born with incredibly strong foresight and telepathy, yes. Like Darkstalker, you would've been able to see not just one future but all possible futures. But you were kept from the light and so it never happened." It made Moon sad to think of what Starflight could have been, what had been robbed from him due to pure ignorance. "I'm sorry."
He looked down, and there was a tremble in his wings. Moon wanted to know what was going on in his head, so as to better know how to soothe him. But she could take a good guess. Was he angry? Envious? Starflight had spent his hold dragonethood wondering why he was different from all the descriptions he'd ever read of NightWings. He'd believed he was defective until he'd learned that none of his tribemates had the powers of old. And now he knew he could've been something - not just the scroll worm he thought himself too cowardly to be anything useful for the prophecy he was born to bring true. If he'd had powers, how might that have helped them in their struggles during the war?
"So this means…" came Tsunami's voice, low and rumbling, her tail lashing behind her. "The whole time you were spying on us? In our heads? Reading our every thought?!"
Moon shook her head vigorously. "No. Darkstalker taught me how to control my powers so I wouldn't do that."
"I was mad at Moony too when I found out," Kinkajou piped up quickly. "But I get it now. She was scared we'd lock her up or kick her out. She didn't want to be with her awful dad and chose us."
Clay looked left and right at the Jade Winglet, a hurt expression on his face. "All of you knew?"
"It was Moon's secret to tell." Turtle said with a pointed look at his sister. Tsunami's tail froze and she ducked her head ashamedly to avoid his gaze.
"And I'm not afraid or ashamed of it anymore," Moon said, trying to hold her head high, even if her heart was racing with anxiety. "You all deserved to know."
Starflight's voice was thick with held back emotion when he spoke. "That was how you were communicating with him when he was under Agate Mountain - through your minds? Is he still connected to you right now? Can he hear what we're saying through you?"
"No, the distance is too far for either of us to cross."
There seemed to be an inaudible sigh of relief all around the room. Then Sunny spoke, and her face was surprisingly angry. "Well, I'm not going to pretend I'm happy about this information. This was something important that we could've used and it was kept from us. It's horrible to think that you were monitoring us, judging us, taking away our last bit of privacy."
"But Moon has used her powers for good!" Qibli argued. "It's because of her that Icicle was caught before she could kill Starflight."
Kinkajou was struggling not to bounce in her seat. "And she used her mind-reading to help the RainWing dragonets to read."
"Yeah!" said Peril. "And-"
"It's okay," Moon waved her friends down, though in her heart she was very grateful for their willingness to jump to her defence. She faced the dragons of destiny and bowed her head. "I understand why you're upset - you have every right to be. And I'm sorry I kept it from you. But I won't apologise for having powers to begin with. We can't help how we're born." Turtle and Peril stood straighter for emphasis.
"Ah, fish-sticks," Tsunami muttered. "I hate it when they make me feel not-right."
"And besides, the point of my mind-reading is moot, seeing as how you all magically seem to have come up with a way to block me."
Clay touched the gold-amber earring dangling from his left ear. "Oh, that'll be these. We had to make them so that when worn they'd protect against Darkstalkers powers - which I guess also includes your powers too."
She frowned. "Why would you need to make something like that? What happened?"
It was Winter who turned in his seat to better face her. There was something pained in his expression. From this angle, Moon could closely see the grizzly work of the stitches where his left ear used to be. Was it hurting him even now? When the prince spoke, his tone was grave. "Moon… two days ago… my cousin, Princess Crystal, came to Jade Mountain. She told us that someone had tried to assassinate Queen Glacier. A NightWing."
"What?" Moon gasped. "But that's impossible! They're all in the Night Kingdom, not the-"
"The assassin caught the IceWings before they crossed the Great Ice Cliff. He stabbed Glacier and told her 'The Darkstalker sends his regards'."
The world stopped spinning. Time ceased to exist. Moon's mind sputtered to a complete stop. She blinked several times, her mind whirring as if she had to decipher Winter's words like they were said in a foreign language. Denial sprung to her defence, and she shook her head. This was not true. "No. No, absolutely not. He wouldn't."
"You sure?" asked Peril in a very disbelieving tone. "He seems to hate IceWings a lot."
Tsunami nodded. "And Glacier was hostile towards him in the Rainforest. He might've thought to get her before she could get him."
"No!" Moon loudly rebuffed. She stood, legs shaky, and took a step back from them all. Her gut told her something was wrong - this was a mistake, a confusion, a misunderstanding. "Darkstalker doesn't want a war. He wants to help our tribe. He's been spending the past week helping our tribe in their new home, advising them towards peace. He is not evil. He did not send an assassin!"
"But Moony," Kinkajou said softly. "The assassin said-"
"He lied! He must have."
"You're sure about that?" Winter asked. "You think you know Darkstalker - really know him?"
Why did that question stir up her anger? As if to imply such a thing were a mark against her honour. "I've been inside his head for almost three years. He's told me things he's never told anyone else."
At least Clay had a look of sympathy on his face, like he knew the turmoil in Moon's chest. "And there's no possibility he could've done this? He's never done anything similar?"
Memories of the war Darkstalker had shared with her, secrets of the Program, tales told in confidence, they all slammed into her brain. Yes, once upon a time, it would've been easy to believe Darkstalker would do this. But Moon's soul could not sit easy believing this was true now, not her Darkstalker, not the dragon she knew. Right?
The others were waiting for her to respond. She swallowed the lump in her throat to force out the words. "He's changed…"
"Hate doesn't change, Moon," Winter looked at the floor, his gaze distant and cold. "He hates the IceWings for what they did to his mother - just look at what he did to his father!"
"Yes, he killed him, but that doesn't mean-"
"Killed him?" his eyes snapped to hers, incredulous. "Moon he butchered him!"
"What're you talking about?"
Kinkajou's scales were a sad blue-green. "We found Fathom's last home, from after his time in the Night Kingdom. He wrote the whole story down in a journal. We found it."
"The tale of the brother lost," Peril murmured.
"It told us what Darkstalker did in the war," said Winter. "All the horrible things he's done. And it said that when he murdered his father, he enchanted Prince Arctic to obey his every command. He turned him into a puppet and had him publicly disembowel himself!"
"No…" Cold horror swept through Moon's body until she thought she would vomit. "That's not… I can't…"
Turtle stood, his eyes sad. He stood in front of Moon and slowly took off his own amber and gold earring. "Here…"
At first, she didn't understand what he was doing, until suddenly his mind was fully open to her and Moon was washed in a brain filled with anxieties and all the kind thoughtfulness in all the world. Turtle was such a worrying soul, Moon had never realised it before - his mind had never been this open to her until now. But then, Turtle focused his thoughts and conjured memories for her to see. A little ruin of a stone hut by a lagoon. An old journal made of the seemingly flimsiest paper. And then she saw him recall the journal - he had memorised it, been obsessing over the words, they called out to him in a strange way, like he almost-knew them before he even set eyes on them. And Moon read the journal through his eyes, every grief stricken word written by Fathom, all his heart aches and losses. And that was when she read Fathom's description of what happened to Arctic. That Darkstalker had indeed, in his rage at his father's betrayal, had ordered him to obey his every command and then told him to disembowel himself before a crowd of dragons.
It's… It's true?
Somewhere in the distance an owl called out to its mate, a lonely sound that echoed across the valley. When it heard no response, it called again, a little more desperate, a little more unsure. The night sky was clear, two of the moons shining brightly to illuminate the world in silver light. It was nearing midnight, and Moon, unable to sleep, had decided to sit beneath their round glow, hoping that it would help ease her troubled thoughts. She'd flown as high as she could, finding a plateau to land on, sitting herself as close to the summit of Jade Mountain as she could get. It was so cold up here that her talons sunk into snow, and every gasp of icy air down her throat was like a slap in the face. It was a good, grounding kind of pain. It helped her to think.
But if she thought too much, she just might burst into another fit of tears. Why did it feel like she was always crying these past few days? Why couldn't she do anything productive instead? Why did this feeling of utter devastation in her chest have to leave her with nothing but a sense of being adrift in a stormy sea?
What she'd seen in Turtle's mind, the words on the page, what the others had told her, she couldn't get it out of her head. The idea of Darkstalker, so easily enchanting other dragons like they were nothing more than toys - it made her feel sick. And if Darkstalker was capable of doing something like that… could it also mean he was capable of ordering the assassination of Queen Glacier? Maybe…? He'd been fighting the IceWings for so long, and she could clearly remember those pages she'd found in Queen Vigilance's study. They detailed all the horrible things he'd done to the IceWings in the war. Yes, he was very capable of doing this.
But did that mean he did it?
She couldn't deny that all the evidence was stacked against him; it painted a picture of a dragon who would do unspeakably cruel things for his own gain. And why should she still defend him, still trust him? She'd sworn long ago that if he ever lied to her again, one final lie, then she would leave him and their friendship would be over. Well, this was that great, final lie, wasn't it… The topic of Arctic's death had come up before in conversation, and each time Darkstalker never elaborated on the details. Yes, he admitted he murdered him, had said he killed him, but never once volunteered the actual account of how his father died. Wasn't that then a lie of omission? Another deception to fool her?
But did that mean he did it?
All this information, all these doubts and feelings battled their way through her head, making her feel so confused. Everything she'd heard today didn't match up with the kind, caring, and considerate friend she knew. Darkstalker grew flowers to try and make her smile. He made a mess with her trying to build a mosaic, laughing all the while. He showed her that her wings matched the stars. He danced with her like they were part of a fairytale ball. None of that could be considered to be a mad, power hungry monster willing to kill anyone who got in his way.
"Moon?"
She turned with a gasp. How had she not heard the wingbeats behind her? How had she not noticed the thoughts creeping up on her? Winter stood some ten feet behind her on the plateau, his eyes filled with concern as he watched her. It was then Moon realised fully that she could hear his thoughts! And his ear had grown back! The full plethora of his emotions and thoughts were open to her once again and Moon was once again greeted with that hall of mirrors inside his brain that fascinated her endlessly.
"Oh, Winter," she cleared her throat, wiping at her cheeks and adjusting her wings self-consciously. "You aren't wearing Skyfire."
He nodded. "I guess I never understood that it was easier for you to see the truth when you're inside someone's head." He took a step closer, his gaze much gentler than she ever remembered them being. "Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry, I just… I needed to be alone to think."
"To think?" Winter said, exasperated. "Moon, is the situation not clear to you yet?"
"Maybe not," she shot back sarcastically. For some reason, his tone offended her, like he saw her as akin to a child too stupid to understand why princesses and queens had to kill each other. "Maybe I haven't heard enough about how terrible he is. Are you going to tell me he likes eating hatchlings next?"
"Is this a joke to you?"
"Of course not, I just-" she bit her tongue. This was getting her nowhere. Her claws curled into fists in the snow. "I can't believe it - I mean I literally can't! Because if I do, if I think about it for more than a moment, I'll think about all the horrible things he's ever done and then I'll break and-"
Abruptly, cold wings were circling around her as Winter pulled her in for a hug. Moon was motionless, taken completely by surprise. With the touch, his thoughts crashed through her mind, unable to be put into a raindrop. Thoughts of worry, of panic, of relief all circled each other over and over in his mind. Winter never did this before, never showed his affections so openly. But it… wasn't unwelcome. His touch was cold but the warmth and care in his mind enfolded her, and she took a moment to just relax in someone offering this comfort.
"It's alright to be confused," he told her softly. "He made you care for him, and now your heart and mind are at war. But you don't have to carry such an intolerable burden alone anymore."
"Why can't two things be true simultaneously? Can he not be a terrible dragon and perhaps also one of the best I have known?" And then, quietly, as if she feared Winter would laugh at her for saying it, she whispered: "Is it childish of me to want to believe he wouldn't do this, to have faith in him?"
Winter did not laugh at her now, but even before she had finished speaking Moon knew what a terrible mistake she had made. In the slight stiffening of the wings around her, she felt the involuntary withdrawal of belief, an instinctive response of pure common sense which told her, more plainly than words ever could, that Winter had grown up and left her playing quite alone on some solitary, non-existent seashore. *
He gently began to pull back his wings. "Moon…"
"I know!" She withdrew the rest of the way quickly. "I know, it's stupid and naive. But my head is spinning in all directions, Winter, and I cannot make it stop! I can't reconcile the Darkstalker who trained me, who laughed with me, who held me whilst I grieved, with this Darkstalker who enchants dragons to do the most awful, unspeakable, wicked things! He told Arctic to obey his every command, that's it! That easy! What was written in that journal? That was probably the cruellest thing I've ever read!"
"Exactly!" Winter exclaimed as if he could pounce on that train of thought and keep it in her head. "He's dangerous, Moon. He's been tricking you this entire time into believing the real him is the dragon who's been caring for you, to make you doubt the truth. What will he do when he learns that you now know everything?"
"No," she shook her head forcefully. "He would never hurt me."
"Maybe not. Or maybe he would enchant you to forget the truth about him, or force you to forever stay with him, adore him, be loyal to him. If you were ever to go back to him, you would be in danger."
"I said he won't hurt me!" If nothing else, she knew that to be absolute truth.
"You really think so? Look what happened to Clearsight, and Fathom and Whiteout. Darkstalker is possessive and selfish, and we already know he likes to enchant dragons to do whatever he wants."
"So what would you have me do? Run away from him forever?"
"Yes!" He stretched open his wings as if this were the most obvious conclusion. "Darkstalker will be too busy with other NightWings for the time being. I could take you to the Ice Kingdom, or we and the others could run and go somewhere Darkstalker can never find you."
"Leave?" she scoffed. "Winter, you aren't saving anyone by keeping me away from him. Darkstalker has all his magic back. There's nothing I can do that could make this situation worse."
"I don't care about that," In his frustration he grabbed hold of her talons and held them between his. Again, his touch amplified all his thoughts to her, and Moon saw his desperation. He kept thinking what would Qibli do to make her stay? "But I can't let you go back to him. Not after everything we've learned."
"But… I mean, running away… Winter, he'd be so hurt…" The thought of Darkstalker, waiting for her to write to him, to come back to him, and her never showing up? It killed a part of her to even imagine the heartbreak and confusion he would go through. And what if this was some big misunderstanding? What if they were all thinking the worst and none of it was what it seemed? She considered going back to the Night Kingdom, right now, to talk to Darkstalker, to sort all this out.
"Moon, you cannot trust him," Winter said as if he could read her mind. "He can see the future and see exactly what he needs to say to get you to be agreeable. And his magic is too much of a threat."
"Maybe, but…"
"Isn't it better to be safe than sorry? You could be right, and this is all a big mistake that we've taken out of context, but on the chance that you're not can you really risk it?"
Words failed her.
"What if the roles were reversed. Would you let me or Kinkajou go to someone you weren't absolutely sure was safe?"
She let her eyes sink to the floor with a heavy sigh.
"Look," gently, his claws touched her chin to redirect her gaze back to him. "If I cannot convince you to flee straight away, then all I ask is that you at least sleep on it. You know that we will all support you, Moon, we just want you to be safe."
There was a long pause as Moon weighed everything in her mind. "Alright," she said at last, the word feeling like it was dragged out of her unwillingly. "Yes, I'll sleep on it."
Winter breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Good." He stepped back from her, wings opening, ready to fly. "Come then, before Kinkajou begins to look for you."
"Yes, and we'll find your Skyfire too," she said tiredly. Winter looked at her, surprised. "You're right, I can see the truth more clearly in your head, but I shouldn't need to when I trust you. That protection is your decision to make."
Something shifted in Winter's head - she'd earned more respect in his eyes. The pair leapt into the air and soared back down the mountain. Moon's heart felt heavy as she flew, as if her soul were stained with some unknown sin. The back of her skull was simmering with some warning from the future, but it wasn't manifesting yet. Something had happened tonight, something that had redirected all their futures, she was certain of it. But onto what path? She dreaded to find out.
The mirror's glass clouded and blackened, the image of the mountaintop fading from view.
Darkstalker stood hunched over, eyes staring unseeing at the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks but he didn't seem to notice. His shoulders were shaking, his breathing as fragmented as his mind. Everything was breaking apart inside him, the floor felt like it was crumbling away and he was at risk of falling into an eternal pit in which there was no bottom.
All he'd wanted was to see her. After he'd read the journal and the scroll, when he'd been so upset and felt so alone, he'd wanted nothing more than to see Moon's face, hear her voice. It was the only thing he could think of to bring himself some comfort. So he'd found a mirror hung on the wall, dark glass surrounded by an ornate golden frame with moon phases carved into the top and bottom of it. It had been a simple spell, he'd thought, I enchant this mirror so that when the name of a dragon is spoken to it, it will show me that dragon, allow me to see and hear them as if I were there.
That had been his mistake. Instead of hearing her sweet voice, instead of feeling comfort in her laughter with her friends… instead he'd heard the discussion between her and the IceWing on the mountaintop. Every. Single. Word.
He knew everything now. The blades had fallen with relentless accuracy and sliced his last feeble hope into oblivion. He'd listened to Winter's desperate plans for flight, heard Moon's tired acceptance. They'd clung together like two frightened dragonets abandoned in a dark wood, shoring up each other's confidence with protestations of loving trust. Soon, whilst he is distracted running a kingdom, the IceWing is to take her away – far away to a place where the Darkstalker can never find her, where she can begin to forget what the little idiot calls her intolerable burden. An intolerable burden… *
Those words rung through his head, over and over. The knife in his chest was twisting over and over each time those words repeated in his skull. Is that what he was? Was that really how she saw him? A burden and a monster? Of course, he didn't blame Moon for her horror about Arctic's death - but how could he have told her? It was something too shameful for her to hear. The mistake that had landed him in his two thousand year imprisonment. And to hear it be used again to condemn him anew… was this the little princeling's plan all along? To learn all of his most horrible deeds and then draw Moon away with this information? Darkstalker felt like his mind was unravelling, his mind jumping all over the place, paranoia rampant the likes of which he hadn't felt in two thousand years.
"Oh, I feared this would happen…" came the voice of Vulture from somewhere behind Darkstalker on the other side of the room. Strange, he hadn't heard him come in. Darkstalker couldn't even bring himself to stand, his legs too weak, his chest still heaving with sobs as his heart continued to break. "She has been corrupted."
He tried to ignore him, tried to block out his words. Moon was as dear to him as his own heart, she wouldn't do this - except he had heard her with his own ears, seen her with his own eyes. She'd listened to her little idiot, had taken in his spiteful words and surrendered. Still he refused to believe she would betray him. It didn't feel right.
"Though I can hardly say I'm surprised," Vulture continued in a monotone voice. "She was never going to be the kind of dragon we wanted. Her heart is too big for all the wrong reasons. Maybe she is part of the problem, don't you think? Too satisfied with the world as it is, not strong enough to handle the tough choices. With all that considered, no wonder it was all too easy for her to be swayed against you."
Darkstalker's sobs grew shaky with anger. He held his face in the palm of one talon. Hurt burned through his veins. The picture of her in the IceWing's arms was scorched onto his brain and it made every cell in his being throb with growing rage. She would flee from him to go straight into the arms of that malicious, cold bastard?! But no, he was not so petty, he realised, digging into the source of this unexpected anger, to learn why he felt so tormented by what he'd just seen.
No, it wasn't that embrace which betrayed him, but the cruel and careless trick with which she intended to win her freedom. She promised to come back. She promised! And she lied! That is the final anguish… the knowledge that she doesn't care enough to put him out of his misery, that she won't even return to tell him that they were done. She's just going to run away with the IceWing and never give Darkstalker another thought. She must hate me very much to do that, he thought hollowly. Strange – he never guessed that she really hated him; he must have made a damned good actress of her in the course of her tuition! *
And yet, even in his anger, he could not hate her. Could not dare to hold this against her. Oh it hurt so much to know that she must think so little of him. That the truth had won out and she had chosen to walk away. How he flittered from anger to sorrow with such speed was dizzying. Why could he just go to her now, explain everything, beg her forgiveness? Or would her IceWing prince seize the opportunity to spirit her away? Or worse, would she spurn him, turn him away and tell him how much he'd hurt her?
No. There had to be a way to fix this! There must be!
"It is good that we saw her true nature now," Vulture sighed knowingly. "It'd be better if we carry on and forget her. And if she comes to stand in our way, then she will be punished."
"No."
"No?"
"You," Darkstalker let the word loose in a quiet growl so ominous, it felt like poison dripping between his teeth. He turned to finally face Vulture, his eyes glowing an unnatural blue-white like a blazing star, his pupils razor-thin. "You will not touch her."
"O-Of course," Vulture stumbled on the words, nodding his head agreeably. "If that is what-"
"You-!" Like some mechanical instrument that had sprung a cog, Darkstalker seemed to shake and lurch and then all at once he lunged at Vulture. There was no time to react, one moment Darkstalker was on one side of the room, the next he was in front of Vulture, his talons clasping closed around his head, claws ready to squash his skull like a melon at a moment's provocation. "If you harm one scale on her head, I will make you gouge out your own eyes and break your own chest open so that I can bite out your shrivelled excuse of a heart! Do you understand? I will give you a death so terrible it will make what I did to Arctic seem like child's play!"
"Y-Yes," Vulture whispered, black eyes wide.
Slowly, claw by claw, as if he had to concentrate on the motion, Darkstalker released the old SandWing. He staggered back, the fight draining from him. "Now leave me. I need to think."
He turned away, hearing the door to his chambers open. Darkstalker covered his ears with his talons, claws trying to massage his head of the terrible headache that was pounding through his skull. Visions were trying to warn him of something but he pushed them back, didn't want to see more things that would cause him more pain tonight. He thought Vulture had left, but after a long moment, his craggy voice said lowly: "She will never see things as you do. Not how things stand now. Our vision is too abstract in her mind. She needs to be made to see - they all do - how the abstract can become reality. A demonstration of how power can shift."
The NightWing hissed through his gritted teeth. "I said get out!"
"She had made her choice, Darkstalker. And it is not you. Same as Fathom. Same as Clearsight."
"GET OUT!" He roared, spinning on the spot. Without even seeing, his talon grabbed hold of an end table, a bowl of fruit perched on top, and he threw it at the door. But Vulture was already gone before impact. The table smashed against the stone archway framing the door, sending splinters and splatters of fruit all across the room. A huge chunk of stone had been cracked out of the wall.
Darkstalker stood, his sides heaving, his eyes welling with tears, his mind fragmenting. He sobbed, choked it back and then let loose a thunderous roar that echoed all across the Castle of Stars. It was a sound so terrible, the walls and floors began to shake. And down several floors below, in the entrance hall of the castle, a mosaic rattled, several small pebbles coming loose…
