Moonborn

Plans Afoot

Trees shivered gently in a light breeze, filing the night air with unheard whispers and shy secrets.

Far, far below the drifting leaves, a voice rumbled and hissed in anger.

"You don't have the dragonet!"

"Unfortunately, it was very well protected, my lord. Much better protected than I was told to expect. Also—"

"Are you insssinuating that my sssourcess are insssuficccient? Jealous of my Fisherman, are you?"

This figure had watched his predecessors' ends before and understood their mistakes. "No, my lord," he said only, and without emotion.

"Good." A noise like a steam engine filled the cavern. "The truth had better not be otherwise. What else do you have to report, despite your misssserable failure? That dragonet had better be in my posssesssion before our next appointment."

"You source failed to report—I mean, the dragonet is not what we expected, my lord."

His master chuckled darkly. "Of course a dark dragon isssn't what anyone can expect. I would've liked to see the look on the Wings' faces when they learned that a Dark One is not so easily killed, not even at birth. A pity it didn't slaughter all of them yet. I suppose they're keeping it in that diamond cage of theirs?"

The figure gulped; his master had a habit of killing the messenger. "No, my lord. The d-dragonet d-does not appear to be d-dark."

The hissing and clicking that resounded from above stopped abruptly, conjuring a silence that was even more frightening than the noise. "The dragonet .  . . issss not dark?"

"It is a white color, my lord," the figure said, closing his eyes. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"You told me you knew how to hatch a Dark One!" Utter fury reverberated in every syllable, and the ceiling began to shake, dust falling down around the figure, who still did not move. This wasn't the only time he had seen his master's disappointment, and by now he had had enough practice at surviving.

He waited until the rumbling had subsided somewhat before he spoke. "It hatched at midnight, my lord, I am sure of it. It merely seems to have caught the light of the moon in its eye when it hatched. "

"Merely! You call my greatest scheme foiled 'merely'?"

"No, my lord. Your plan has not been foiled. Although the dragonet's scales are white, I assure you that its soul is as black as any Dark One's would be. In fact, I think your plan is all the better for this turn of events. Just as the sun dragons weaken in power when the sun goes down, this dragonet will doubtless also be affected when the moon changes its phase."

"Meaning that in less than two weeks' time the Wings will have an unssssusssspected dark dragon in their midssssst?"

"Exactly, my lord." The figure allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. "After we have it, I know of a potion that will allow the dragon to keep the same power. Once ours, the dragon is dark forever. And I'm afraid that isn't even the best part, my lord."

"The best part?" The voice laughed in a manner that could only be described as 'darkly'. "My dearest servant, you are truly full of surprises today. Normally I would have had you limbs scattered to the four winds for ssssuch sssurprisssessss, but perhapssss I can be lenient today."

The figure, well aware of what his master thought of as lenient, swallowed hard. "Thank you, my lord. The best part, though this has yet to be confirmed, is that the dragonet seems to have chosen already."

"Really? I'm intrigued. Now, I know I've causes a lot of pain lately," a dark chuckle followed this statement, "but who exactly has been through so much pain and torment in their life that they are worthy of being chosen by a Dark One?"

The figure couldn't stop nervousness from shaking his hands or his voice. "A-a former w-wingmember, my lord."

But his master's voice was calm. "Interessssting. I applaud this dragonet's choice. A former wingmember is to become the very enemy that the Wings fear most? Classic, I must admit. Don't think I miss your relief, Ebenezer. You thought the knowledge of this would anger me, perhapsssss? But I know something you do not, though it is continually expressed in stories across the Fabulae. Once a rider is chosen by a Dark One, their will is not their own. Unfortunately, they have a rather shorter lifespan than their dragon counterpart, which means their usefulness only extends so far. However, I assure you that this former wingmember will have no memory of his former life. Who knowsssss, he may even enjoy the killing."

The voice chuckled again. "Do not worry, Ebenezer. Or rather, worry very much indeed about getting that dragonet to me by the end of the week. The incccccentive of your life should be enough to do it. Oh, and by the way, do you know when exactly this dark rider's former dragon was killed? I must confesssss that I'm rather curiousssss."

"It was just about two years ago, my lord. I believe they were the team that stole your scepter. They both got away, but suffered injuries as they were going through the portal."

"Hmm, yesssss. Got away becausssse of your inssssufficcciencccy, I recall. I shall have to think about getting that back someday. Did the Wings ever figure out what it meant?"

"I don't believe so, my lord."

"For ssssuch nosssy foolsss they really have trouble putting thingssss together. Wouldn't you sssay ssso, Ebenezer?"

"Definitely, my lord."

"They should look through their folklore more often, asss I keep telling you to do. I was appreciated more back then, too. Hundreds lined up to sssserve me, and all of them loyal too, not like our late Veneater. Now there'ssss only a few measly tribessss in the Hallonian forests that remember my namesssss, and they would have a real shock if I actually turned up one of these daysssss. The best they can do is ssssend a pitiful army of excussssessssss for malcovs to Wings outpostsssss in half-hearted attemptssss to mildly dissssrupt the law. No great ssschemesss,not terror-sssspreading attackssss. I wonder if the Wings still think they set the attackssss on their stronghold. Hah, they wouldn't even be able to open a pinhole of a portal there. As for attacksss—forget it! Their malcovs resemble puny chickens. But you are here, and you are loyal, Ebenezer; I will not forget that in the times to come. Go now, and make sure you don't dissssapoint me."

"Yes, master."

After Ebenezer's footsteps had long since faded away, his master stirred restlessly. He could hang nearly forever in his cavern if he wanted to, without need for anything other than information about the outside world. He had already hung for nearly five hundred years there, but suddenly he was restless. All the talk of his glory days had reinstated his young ideals, and for a moment he was disgusted with himself. He had just been forced to spend five hundred dingy, dull years in a hole? All who had admired him then would never have imagined him sitting still for more than a moment.

Using muscles that had gone unnoticed for decades, he clawed his way up to the skylight he knew had been there two years ago, but not so sure now.

With a sigh of exhilaration he found it and heaved it open, emerging into a pitch black night, one of the ones that was so foggy that even the stars were obscured.; when any kind of predator could come out of the mists without a second of warning.

He smiled a toothy grin and turned his head to the sky.

He was the predator of predators.