Chapter Text
Prologue
Eight years ago…
“Oh, you must be so sad!”
“I’m sorry, there’s someone out there for everyone.”
“Maybe it’s all for the better.”
These were the kinds of things Qibli had heard for a solid month after Moon told him that, if she was being honest, she thought they only worked as friends. They’d been together for about a year when that happened.
Sure, it had hurt. But looking back on it from about eight years later, all the dragons offering him their “condolences” acting like somebody had died, had been really annoying. He didn’t want anyone to cry with, he was just ready to have fun with his friends and watch Moon be happier with Turtle. Was there any problem with that? Apparently there was, according to literally everyone— except Deathbringer.
Who would’ve thought that the former mercenary might know a thing or two about moving on? Even now, twelve years after breaking up with Moon, Qibli was still hearing about it. He had moved on easily, the problem was just everyone else. And it was this matter which he was now discussing with Deathbringer, on a well-lit balcony outside the royal hut of the Rainforest Kingdom.
A recent memory popped into Qibli’s brain that made him laugh out loud, and he knew sharing it with Deathbringer would be hilarious. “Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Sanctuary and got ambushed by a superfan?”
Deathbringer spat out part of the mango he was eating. “Excuse me, what?! You got what now?”
As he told the story, it unfolded in his mind and made it even funnier. “It was maybe about five years ago. I was visiting Sanctuary, just to see the old gang, the Jade Winglet— or what was left of it. Out of absolutely nowhere, this one RainWing dragonet, who’s like four years old, jumps out at me while I’m in the streets unaccompanied. She’s holding a scroll, and she looks me right in the face and she goes, ‘Qibli? Is that you?’ And I’m like, yeah it’s me, who are you and where are your parents? So she says they’re in the house right over there, and I think to myself, okay, at least she’s not totally lost.”
“Let me take a wild guess,” Deathbringer chuckled. “Something was in that scroll that probably should’ve stayed in the kid’s brain.”
“You got it! But it’s worse than you think, okay? This dragonet literally stares at me, like she’s dead serious, and she’s like, ‘I heard you and Moon aren’t together anymore.’ Of course I thought, moons, not this again, go away, it’s been FIVE YEARS, this was BEFORE YOU HATCHED. But I kinda just play along, and I say, yeah, that’s what happens sometimes, right? Refraining from asking her why it’s any of her business, by the way. Then she drops the bomb. She holds up the scroll and tells me ‘My big brother says you can’t leave each other! He wrote this story together before he heard about how you broke up!’”
Deathbringer started wheezing with laughter and probably wanted to say something, but couldn’t get it out. So Qibli kept talking.
“As any sane dragon would, I ask her as politely as possible, ‘What did you just say?’ And she’s like, ‘It’s a story about how you grew up together and got married and had three dragonets together, and it’s really cute! He called it Moonbli Forever!’ So, at this point, I’m just trying not to laugh, because like, what in the world?? I just wanna ask the dragonet, is your family as immature as you are? Did they seriously think that writing a whole scroll about their fantasies of my relationships would change anything? I think I ended up saying something really smart like, ‘What did you just say?’ And she must’ve thought I was proud of her or something because she goes, ‘It was really hard for me to bring this to you, because my brother ships you with Moon, but I personally am more of a Qinter supporter— Qibli and Winter, you know.’ And at that point, I can’t contain the laughter anymore.”
“I wouldn’t be able to either!” Deathbringer had his voice back. “Imagine finding out there’s literally an entire base of fans who try to find a romantic partner for someone they don’t even know! I think it kind of exposes their personal lack of romantic activity, if you want my honest opinion, but at the end of the day, that’s just stupid funny.”
“I know, right? Eventually I wriggled my way out of the conversation and kept on going about my day— but not before she literally forced that scroll into my claws. I told Winter about it, too, and he didn’t find it as funny. But he never finds anything funny.”
Deathbringer wiped his eyes. “That’s quite the story. I’d hate to one-up you right after hearing it, but it feels almost irresistible now.”
“Oh, no, do tell. The husband of the NightWing Queen has had dragons write questionable stories about him? I must know.”
“Mine’s somewhat more… organized. And malicious. It was a desperate yet nearly effective way to defame me after I left the NightWings for Glory. Basically, a group of NightWings who didn’t want to live with the RainWings published a record of my time as an assassin under my name, and told everyone that it was a journal of mine that I’d hoped the volcanic eruption would destroy. The stories weren’t that bad— just a false accord of how I witnessed my mother’s death and disobeyed the Queen. It really wasn’t that unrealistic, and it fooled a lot of dragons. But the reason it put so much unpopularity behind my name was a tiny detail that those scumbags added in: the dates associated with the days they claimed I did the things in the stories.”
Qibli pursed his lips. “I’m not following. Why is that a problem?”
“Because they fictionally placed those records nine years before the Brightest Night, and described me as four years old. Which would make me, when Glory became Queen, a thirteen-year-old, significantly matured adult, badgering after a six-year-old RainWing dragonet. A subtle detail, but noticeable and disgusting nonetheless, and it raised way too many eyebrows. And because any hatching records were burned to dust with the volcanic island, there was no evidence to counter it, and for a long time, those NightWings had what they wanted. No matter how many times I tried to tell them that I was only eight years old when Glory was seven, it didn’t help.”
“Get out of here.” Qibli’s anecdote had been funny, but this was just irritating. “You don’t even look seven years older than her. How did you finally shake them off?”
Deathbringer shrugged. “I didn’t. They’re still out there today, it’s just that I’m not going to waste my time trying to correct them. They don’t want to be right, all they want is to make a statement about how they think they could run the NightWings better than me. And why should I fuel a cause like that? No, best to let the rumors die out while anyone with half a brain looks at me and realizes, like you just pointed out, me and Glory are clearly very similar in age.”
Not wasting time on idiots who’ll never see what’s real?
Why didn’t I ever think of that? “Wise words. I honestly don’t know why I was expecting anything less from you.”
“Thanks. I get that a lot.”
They both laughed, but Deathbringer still had quite the preoccupied look on his face. Normally he was up for a laugh at even the dullest of topics, but Qibli suspected something else was up. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing too serious. I was just thinking how those same jerks are going to react when they hear about… well…”
“Yes?”
Deathbringer looked around in all directions, as if to ensure that no one could see or hear them. “I trust you not to tell anyone else unless I give you the OK,” he whispered, “But Glory’s going to have an egg.”
Qibli was not surprised at all. Still, it was a remarkable event in anyone’s life. “You’re right. I won’t tell a soul. My congratulations, though.”
“Thank you. But I tell you what: names just aren’t coming to my mind. Doesn’t matter if it’s male or female, I’m drawing a blank. Sometimes I wish dragonets could choose their own names if they hatched with the intelligence to do so. Glory hasn’t got any ideas, either.”
Qibli wasn’t going to say this out loud, but he was terrible at naming, and definitely didn’t want to contribute to the naming of a potential heir to the throne of both RainWings and NightWings. That was their responsibility, not his.
Now he was trying to imagine what a cross between Glory and Deathbringer would even look like as a dragonet. Would it be aggressive and destructive, as a result of Glory’s insatiable attitude and Deathbringer’s violent past?
Would it be a combination of both its parents’ good sides? Strong and protective like its father, and wise beyond its years like its mother?
Or would it just be something else entirely?
Part 1
Philosophy, Politics, and Other Popular Fairy Tales
Chapter 1
Aye Aye wouldn’t have generally called himself the hateful type.
However, lately he’d been feeling increasingly annoyed about a lot of things. His patience was being tested, and though he loved a challenge, this one was getting to be a bit much. He never really hated certain dragons, he hated certain ideas. For example, the argument with Puzzle he’d gotten into just a couple hours ago. There was no hatred that sparked within him. It didn’t have to be that complicated, it was just that Puzzle was being an idiot. No need to waste the energy of a mind and a heart on that.
Anyway, he didn’t hate anyone. He was simply disgusted by the idea that Puzzle would have the power to save the world a million times over and not use it when literally no one was safe— except himself.
He also hated the idea of being used as a tool. And Pompona wondered why he spent so much time away from the Dome. She was sworn to secrecy, but if Puzzle ever found out that Aye Aye’s venom was the thing that could destroy the Obsidian found in those Killers… he didn’t like the vision of being milked like a cow, except from the teeth, and you don’t drink the milk, but it was kind of the same.
He also hated the idea of really weird similes. What corner of his mind had that one come from?
He also hated the idea of useless repetition. He didn’t need to hear the same idea a million times with a million different examples.
I’ve got a kingdom to save, possibly multiple kingdoms. Like, yeah, it might be hard, but also it’s a chance to get off my butt and actually do something. Something other than reading those dumb scrolls in that library. He’d wasted so much time there… It almost made him wonder if the Library of Nowhere was just a trap for dragons like him, who wanted to learn about the place but could also, if they found out the truth, be a danger. And oh, there certainly was a danger here. He just hadn’t figured it out yet.
But enough about the overarching danger to the world. He had things to do in the now: data to analyze, places to be, and a newly futile SandWing assassin to get off his tail.
“Perentie,” he groaned, “I know I just told you that you can come with me to the Jungle Kingdom and protect the Queen with me, but if an Obsidian Killer really does show up, you won’t be able to protect yourself, especially if there are multiple.”
His pseudo-mentor shrugged pettily. “You know, we could solve that problem if you just gave me one of your poisoned daggers.”
Yeah, but I don’t trust you. No one sane would. “I don’t want those falling into the wrong talons. You could be some hired merc who’s trying to dethrone the whole Rainforest for all I know, and to be right in the middle of the RainWing and NightWing rulers, plus their only heir? Nope. Not happening.”
“That’s the right answer. Now get out of here before one of Puzzle’s cronies finds you.” He turned on his heels and flew off.
Too easy. Perentie was a skilled teacher, sure, he knew many tricks of the trade when it came to fighting. But someone he’d swindled out of the Scorpion Den couldn’t be trusted, no matter how confident he was in his persuasive talents.
As a matter of fact, pretty much no one could be trusted in general. Aye Aye only had a few exceptions to this rule, and they were all dragons he had known for an adequately long time.
Firstly, his parents. Not much explanation needed there, in his opinion. They had raised him well, given him the freedom he knew he needed but also seen him through as his mind developed and made sure he wasn’t going anywhere awful. A great balance of protective and caring— or rather, a form of protectiveness that actually took on the form of caring.
Second, his clawmate Firefly. Aye Aye approved of her in many ways, and had never met anyone who had a valid argument against her. She was kind but not totally silent, peaceful but firm. In his early days of visiting Jade Mountain Academy part-time, she had been a very small dragonet who wasn’t totally insane and whiny, which had immediately earned some respect in his book. She was on the quiet side, and Aye Aye had troubles with quiet dragons sometimes. What could they be hiding? But at no point did Firefly’s quietness look (nor did any evidence arise that it might be) manipulative, mean, or contemptful. Overall, she was fine with him, and had proved herself over the course of several years.
Third, Quench. The complete opposite of Firefly, Quench would often speak her mind no matter what— a huge risk that Aye Aye used to see as a clear sign to stay away. Back then, it hadn’t occurred to him that someone could be extroverted and loyal at the same time. Quench contradicted this view a million times over, especially after she’d found out about the cave in which he would rip apart straw dummies— and never told a soul. He had gained her trust, although he had no idea how, but so far there were no drawbacks within doing the same to her.
Fourth… this was complicated. Part of him wanted to say Shearwater, but they had only met a short time ago. Even though Aye Aye didn’t sense a problem with being hospitable and sharing his room with the peaceable, semi-inspired SeaWing, “trusting” him was a big word to just throw around. Aye Aye had had some time to scope Shearwater out a little bit, in conversation or in small trips to and from Nowhere, and there didn’t seem to be much going on with him, but that didn’t prove anything. For many dragons, it’s very easy to pretend to be a friend for less than a month. He could turn on us at any moment, especially considering how close he is with the Nobodies.
That being said, Aye Aye did have some respect for Shearwater. He had proven that not just Nobodies could be Magicians, and that maybe this “special” tribe wasn’t so special after all, but that was about it. And one thing that unimpeachably alarmed him about Shearwater was his relationship with Firefly. Dragons like Quench could go on and on about how cute those two were together, and dragons like Pompona and Celesta could approvingly ignore it, but Aye Aye did neither of these. If it turns out that Shearwater was sent here to do something awful, that means he’s getting Firefly on his side the most out of any of us, and that can’t slide. If he even lays one malicious claw on her— He reached for his dagger and gripped it tightly.
No, Shearwater wasn’t on his list of dragons to be totally okay with. But there was one on said list who made no sense at all.
Celesta. The one dragon who he had no idea why he trusted. She’d never done anything to him that expressed loyalty or care. She’d never done anything that expressed the opposite, but normally that wasn’t enough for Aye Aye. Given her totally unsocial life and apparently not-so-great past, one might have wondered if Aye Aye was her friend out of sheer pity. But that wasn’t the case either. No, something entirely different lay in Celesta, and even though he never could fully understand what it was, he trusted his intuition more than any random dragon. And his intuition told him that being there for Celesta was the right thing to do.
“I bet you’re just in love with her,” Quench had teased once.
At the time, Aye Aye had shot back with some kind of argument about how romance was stupid, he didn’t want to partake in it, blah blah blah. What Quench didn’t know was how much he pondered whether or not this was true. It had, in fact, occupied his mind for a very long time, but totally erased itself once she and Iris hit off so well.
Aye Aye couldn’t remember feeling any jealousy or regret once he met Iris and saw how much they clearly cared for each other…
But he had felt something.
At first he passed it off as being happy for them. They work out so well together! He’d told himself.
And before that point, he’d never really thought it was possible for two dragons to work together a little too well. That sense of intuition he trusted so much nagged at him every time he saw them together. Something more than just friendly bonding was drawing those two together. Aye Aye knew what a dragon’s face looked like when they were full to the brim with affection; he was friends with Quench. How could he not know?
Sure, there was a little melty mush in Celesta’s eyes whenever she was with Iris. A little. Her primary expression and body language sent a drastically different message, and it was hard to figure out what that message was without rudely staring at her whenever she spent time with Iris. And he couldn’t just straight-up ask her, “Hey Celesta, what exactly goes through your mind when you spend time with your best friend?”
So, for the sake of politeness, Aye Aye had to leave that mystery alone.
But now Celesta was deadly ill, showing no signs of recovery, and that was incredibly frustrating. The prospect that Aye Aye might never know what was going on with her…
He had to believe that wasn’t going to happen, despite how little help the potions in Nowhere were doing, and how weak Celesta still was. I need to find someone who can tell me exactly what’s going on, and not just with her.
The only problem is, the place designed to look like it holds a lot of information is being totally useless.
Hmmm. If I was in charge of an organization on Nowhere, and wanted to hide all the answers any visitors might need, what’s the last place someone like Aye Aye would look?
Of course. It was stupid of Aye Aye to assume that the answers were all being hidden in one place. His questions spanned a lot of different topics, obviously.
Granted, knew much more now than he had a couple weeks ago. For example, the question of Sky’s whereabouts was no longer an issue, nor was the functioning of the Globes or Quench’s voluntary firescales.
On the other talon, being informed about Sky was a little disturbing to him, because he feared that it might distract others from the even more mysterious missing dragon.
Aside from protecting his friends and family, Aye Aye had another very good reason to go find the Obsidian Killers.
Quench had found Sky. And if the Killers knew what Aye Aye was capable of, they just might tell him about Fatespeaker.