If Darkstalker Had Been Good

==Note to ==
Thiss a fanfic about if Darkstalker had been good, and if none of the evil stuff he did had never happened, like making his own father kill himself and make the entire tribe move away because of him. Point is, some of these characters are not mine and belong to Tui T. Sutherland.
Some of the things that happen in the Darkstalker book, such as Darkstalker making himself immortal and things Indigo mysteriously vanishing, still happened. But others, like Prince Arctic turning himself into a science project and Foeslayer being captured by Queen Diamond have not happened and will not happen at all. I am also super, incredibly sorry if any of the non-canon characters share a name with one of your (The readers) characters. If it seems like a major coincidence and the character in question seems like an identical twin to yours, I'll change my character to be more original. Okeedokee? (Please be reminded that I'm not a copycat and it is purely a coincidence if such a thing happens :D) - Misty
==! Spoiler Alert!==
MAJOR spoiler alert if you haven't read Escaping Peril or Darkstalker. But if you want to spoil the books, be my guest! Also, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment/edit any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes in any necessary categories, but otherwise please don't edit anything. Thank you for your time, and I hope you like this fanfic! - Misty
==Prologue - Seven Years After Fathom's Arrival to the Night Kingdom==
Clearsight felt her heart beat rapidly as she flew to the nesting point, her mind writhing with worry and her stomach in a tight knot. The eggs will be fine fine. They're going to be fine. They're going to be fine. They're going to be fine. She had checked and re-checked and re-re-checked each and every timeline that involved the hatching, and only three involved an egg smashing or falling off of the ridge where hatchlings met the moons and were gifted with the powers of either prophecy or mind-reading. 
"It's going to be fine, Clearsight," was what Foeslayer had assured her over and over again.
"It's certainly NOT going to be fine," she had shrieked at her mother-in-law. "ANYTHING can happen. Someone might step on them, one might be a dud, one might -" she had stopped when Foeslayer gave her a patient look, and then Whiteout had nodded wisely and said, "They'll be blue and icy, hidden clarity."
Clearsight gulped as she saw the Hatching Ridge, and she clutched the egg in her talons with renewed ferocity. Darkstalker was flying nearby, another egg in his claws, and Thoughtful, Whiteout's soon-to-be partner, was holding the other egg, his wings steady and careful. 
Darkstalker snorted. "You have to calm down, Clearsight. You're going to drop that egg, and then where will we be?"
"ME drop the egg?" Clearsight screeched. "It's you two butterclaws I'm worried about!" She watched Darkstalker roll his eyes in exasperation and Thoughtful let out a laugh.
"You don't have to bite his head off," Listener said, as she flew above her friend. "He's just trying to help you." She still sounded grouchy from yet another dragon shooing her away, but Clearsight had to admit that it was for the better. Though, Listener was still against the future-seeing, just as when she was a dragonet, and so she hadn't seen it coming.
They reached the hatching ridge, and Clearsight gingerly landed, trying to be as delicate as possible. She nestled the egg in the nest and watched, holding her breath the entire time, as Darkstalker and Thoughtful followed suit and set the eggs down.
The eggs gradually changed from an ebony to a gleaming silver, and Whitout gasped. "They are so striped and happy!"
"Whatever, Weirdout," Listener said. She still felt uncomfortable around Darkstalker's sister, who wasn't exactly the most ordinary of dragons, but then again, neither was Darkstalker. On top of that, everybody knew that Listner was still bitter about Whiteout getting along so well with Thoughtful, who hardly glanced Listener's way anymore.
"Alright, so now we wait," Darkstalker said, curling up on the far corner of the spire. He yawned. "We might as well get some shut eye."
"But look, A web!" Whiteout exclaimed, pointing at a starburst shaped crack that appeared on one of the eggs.
One little black claw appeared out of the egg, and then even more cracks appeared as the dragonet inside arched her back and stretched her wings. The egg fell into pieces, and then the most beautiful, perfect dragonet stumbled out into the moonlight. There was one silver scale shining by each of her eyes, and she squeaked when she saw the five dragons surrounding her.
Darkstalker's eyes widened as he stared down at his daughter, and Clearsight bent and gently picked her up. She was so elegant and perfect, and Clearsight loved her already.
Listener tapped her shoulder after a few seconds. "Um. I think the rest of us want to see the little one."
"Oh! Of course. Sorry." Clearsight set the dragonet down, who squeaked with protest as the cold stone met her claws. She stared up at the adult dragons with a look that said 'How can you let this happen to me?' and then she continued to explore the nest.
The other two eggs were rocking violently, and Clearsight held her breath in anticipation.
One suddenly shattered, as if the dragonet inside had pummelled it so suddenly and forcefully that the egg just gave way all at once. The small male tumbled out onto the nest, an eggshell caught on his horns, and he bared his teeth in a tiny snarl as Darkstalker lifted him up. He brushed the eggshell off of the little dragonet's head. "We can name him Egghead," Darkstalker said crossly as the new hatchling bit his talons. "Or UneccessaryBiteyFace, because I seriously did NOT deserve that."
"I don't know." Thoughtful said. "You did take off his mighty war helmet."
"Shush! The third one is hatching," Listener said, thwacking Thoughtful with one silver-speckled wing.
"That one is Fierceclaws," Darkstalker insisted as a small dragonet, the smallest of the three, crept out of the safe confines of her egg into the moonlit night.
"She is Fierceclaws?" Listener said with disbelief. "That's a terrible name for such an adorable little dragonet. But then again, terrible and seriously scary and frightening names seem to run in your family."
"They do not," Darkstalker said indignantly.
"Um...yeah. What about Foeslayer? And your name, Darkstalker? And now Fierceclaws? How about the next one can be Skullcleaver or Bloodyfangs?" Listener tapped the rock. "Point is, you should break tradition and call them something nice."
"I think Stormsong would be a perfect name for this one," Clearsight said, nuzzling her oldest daughter.
"If her name is Stormsong, this one is Fierceclaws," Darkstalker said pointedly.
"No way. I'm with Listener on this one," Clearsight said, rolling her eyes. "Not Fierceclaws. We've talked about this a hundred times."
"And I've won almost every argument," Darkstalker answered. "This is Fierceclaws. That is Stormsong. And this one is..."
"Egghead," Whiteout interrupted, and then she almost fell off of the ridge laughing.
"I was thinking of Mooncreeper," Darkstalker said.
"Creepy names? Ring a bell?" Listener said, growling.
"What about Thunderstreak?" Clearsight asked. "That's a nice NightWing name."
"Fierce, but not overly frightening." Listener looked down her snout to glare at Darkstalker. "Hint, hint."
Whiteout brushed each of the dragonet's heads with one of her wings. They all had the silver teardrop scales, and so they were all mind readers or future seers. But Clearsight couldn't help but wonder if one of them was an animus...and then she saw all of the futures where Stormsong was an animus. An animus who used her power to conquer Pyrrhia.
I can't let that happen.
It won't happen.
== Chapter One - Five and a Half Years After The Night Of Two Full Moons ==
Stormsong hated that her mother always watched her closely.
She hated that she was always the one that was lectured about how she should watch her power carefully and make sure she never used it for bad under any circumstances whatsoever and blah blah blah blah. Thunderstreak and Fierceclaws never were taken aside and told horrifying stories about some ancient SeaWing who went nuts one day and decided to kill every dragon in sight. Stormsong knew what would happen if she used her power. She didn't have to be reminded of it over and over again.
But what made it worse was the fact that she wanted to scream "WHY CAN'T I MAKE AN AMAZING SCROLL LIKE FATHER?" No. She couldn't. Because she already saw all the futures where she used the scroll for evil and how she conquered Pyrrhia and became sole ruler of the continents. For thousands of years.
But then there were the awesome, optimistic futures - well, maybe they weren't that likely, but who cares, they were still possible - where she was an amazing queen of the NightWings and how she was loved and benevolent and bestowed gifts upon her subjects.
Stormsong sighed. Mother didn't understand. She always worried about the dark and gloomy and forbidding futures, and she hardly glanced at the happy ones. And whenever Stormsong mentioned that, she was always answered the same: "Happy futures won't happen if you don't stop the bad ones beforehand." Which was ridiculous. Why couldn't she just follow a certain thread and then end up as an amazing queen or discovering the lost continent?
"I don't want to hear about you grumbling to yourself again," Darkstalker said as he stepped into the dining room. He narrowed his eyes at Stormsong. "Being the queen of the NightWings isn't the only good future out there." He then nudged Clearsight's wing. "And what your mother says isn't ridiculous."
"Right," Eclipse, Stormsong's other younger sister, piped up. "Mother says the most wisest, bestest things in the whole world."
Whiteout's daughter, Icebird, rolled her eyes and returned to her meal. She was a striking dragonet, with jet black scales and whitish blue highlights around her wings, tail and ears. Everyone thought she was the most beautiful dragon in Pyrrhia, except Whiteout, of course. But she didn't say things like "Blue fog on a sunny storm day."
"I'm sorry," Stormsong said. "I just want to be able to use my animus power."
Not a good idea, Uncle Fathom thought suddenly.
If she becomes like Albatross...Indigo exchanged quick looks with Fathom. I'll do anything to protect Fathom and my dragonets from her. Even though the two SeaWings had warmed up to Darkstalker, they were still wary around Stormsong, as if she would suddenly turn into a monster and tear their wings off. Which wasn't fair AT ALL.
"I just want to make sure that you can be responsible enough with your power before you decide to do something major, like pour your animus power into a scroll, or vessel," Darkstalker explained, softening. "It's not that we think you would do anything horrible, it's just..."
...you think I'd do something horrible, Stormsong thought sourly. Well, that doesn't matter. I'll show them both that I can be responsible. Just you wait.
"Look, dear, it's just hard," Clearsight said, dishing up some fish to everyone. "We have to decide if you're ready to have the most powerful wea- tool in the world. Can you handle that?"
Stormsong flicked her tail and ruffled her wings. "Of course I can. I'm five years old, Mother. When am I going to be actually old enough to prove to you that I can take care of myself?" She knew what Clearsight was thinking, even though she was wearing the moonstone bracelet that Darkstalker had enchanted for her. It was written all over her face.
Darkstalker sighed. "Alright. Stormsong, you and I need to have a little talk. Come on."
Stormsong followed her father into the kitchen, just out of earshot.
"You have to understand that we don't know if you will choose the right choices," Darkstalker began. That sounded meaner than it was supposed to, but he continued obliviously, not at all aware that he had already hurt Stormsong's feelings. "When you're seven, we'll be able to think about this more. But there are so many stories and things like that of dragons going mad. It's just one spell that can make all the difference."
I know. Stormsong's throat constricted, and Darkstalker, finally paying attention to her thoughts, looked a bit guilty. But my own parents think I'll use my power to be a monster. Stormsong let out a choked sob, fled the kitchen and dashed past the dining hall, and then she threw herself out of the window to the howling gale outside.
== Chapter Two ==
Rain lashed against her face like icy claws. She thought she could hear someone call her name, but Stormsong didn't even bother to look back as she flapped hard, flying against the wind and storm. Futures of her falling, of her ramming into the mountainside, of getting taken down by a careless piece of debris...they all flickered before her eyes as she cried.
After a time of being sprayed by the salt of the ocean and forced lower and lower by the wind and raging elements, Stormsong felt exhausted. She was too angry to turn back, and instead she continued south. If someone was following her, fine. They wouldn't be able to catch up with her in this storm, and she would probably fall into the ocean before they reached her.
Stormsong's chest heaved, and she tried to inhale a mouthful of air. Her muscles screamed for her to land, but there was not even an outcrop of rock. She was caught in the storm, and now was about to fall into the stormy depths of this raging ocean. The song of the wind was screeching against her ears and clawing her eyes, and then her wings gave way.
They just stopped beating.
Frozen.
And then she fell into the ocean.
There, Mother. I won't become the monster you always expected me to be.
== Chapter Three ==
She was cold, and her muscles were tired. It felt like she had been thrown against a cliff and then crushed by some massive dragon talon.
Where am I?
Stormsong opened her eyes a crack and saw a circle of seagulls, flying lazy loops above her head. Warm sand pressed against her aching scales, and the tide slowly rolled towards her.
It appeared that she was on a beach.
Stormsong staggered to her feet, aching wings and tail limp with exhaustion. Her mouth was dry and parched from the salt of the ocean and her head throbbed unceasingly. When she looked down at her foreleg she saw an angry, red welt. Where did that come from? she thought fuzzily.
Her last memory was throwing herself out into the storm. Off of the edge of a cliff.
And now I have no idea where I am.
"Help!" she screamed, flapping her wings frantically. "Someone! Help me! Where am I!?"
Calm down, Stormsong. You can get out of this mess. You were always the smartest and the cleverest. Use that now!
Stormsong wrung her talons, panic scraping a painful bruise against the logical part of her mind. She could be anywhere on any of the coasts of Pyrrhia, or even on any of the other islands. What was she supposed to do!?
Never use your power.
But this was a life-or-death situation!
We don't know if you will choose the right choices.
Well, that was helpful.
See all of the dark futures, where you conquer and kill innocent dragons.
And the happy ones? What about those?
Happy futures won't happen if you don't stop the bad ones beforehand.
But there would be no future if she didn't think of something fast.
Stormsong took a deep, shuddering breath. She decided that she would have to use her power, all the while aware of the dark futures getting clearer. It wasn't too late. The semi-good ones, where she roamed this little island (well, it turned out to be an island) for a few years and helping stranded dragons, could still occur. But this is my chance to prove that I can control myself. 
I can show dragons that I can be a good animus, too.
Stormsong exhaled and watched a seagull zip past her, razor wings hardly flapping. Think about this for a moment. She could still try crossing the sea, but many of the futures ended badly. Either that, or she would get lost and end up in the Kingdom of Sand, either to be killed as a trespasser or become Queen Sandstorm's personal weapon of mass destruction. Which was a future she wanted to avoid at all costs.
She had to do this.
Stormsong spent the rest of the day scouring the beach for something as a vessel for her animus power. After all, she didn't want go crazy once she cast a few too many spells than she was supposed to. But it had to be a special sort of vessel, not something common like a scroll.
A seashell!
And not just any shell, it was a conch shell, massive and swirling. Stormsong gingerly picked it up, aware of how delicate shells could be. But it was so perfect and mystifying, rough on the outside but as smooth as her scales on the inside. Maybe this was a bad idea, she thought doubtfully.
Face a life of helping dragons lost at sea or finding a horrible fate out in the ocean or Kingdom of Sand, or have this one last chance of proving I can take care of myself?
The last argument made up her mind. Stormsong gulped and pressed her eyes shut.
== Chapter Four ==
"Where. Is. My. Daughter!?" Clearsight shrieked at Darkstalker. She could feel her common sense draining away into hysteria, but as far as she was concerned her precious little dragonet was caught up in a storm.
"She'll show up, don't worry," Darkstalker said, picking at a large tuna.
Clearsight was tempted to hurl the trout she cooking into his unworried face, and she was about to when a vision flashed before her eyes.
Stormsong alone on a beach, staring wistfully at a conch shell.
Taking a deep breath.
A sparkling, golden light appeared in the conch shell, and then it vanished, ebbing away so that the shell was prettier, more elaborate, and more golden.
Three moons...
== Chapter Five ==
She felt like she had cut off her own talons. Stormsong staggered and then collapsed into the blazing sand, chest heaving. It was amazing and terrifying. Is this what other dragons feel like? No animus power? It also felt like a great weight had vanished from her shoulders. I never have to worry about becoming that monster. 
It also made Stormsong feel much more elated when she noticed that the dark fates had become watery and unstable in appearance, and happy futures bright and possible. "See, Mother," she said triumphantly and out loud. "I can do this."
Stormsong gazed importantly at the conch shell. "Shell, enchant the sand at my talons to show the exact location of my parents."
It was fascinating, but also sort of creepy, when an intricate map began to be carved into the sand around her claws. Soon enough she could see the Night Kingdom, and then the SandWing's stronghold. It even showed the location of the Deep Palace, which was amazing in itself. She held her breath as a dot labelled Clearsight and another dot labelled Darkstalker appeared on the map. And they were travelling straight to her island.
Three moons...How could she have missed this future? The future where her parents came and chewed her out, grounded her for life, and made sure that Stormsong would never leave their sight again?  Smoky mountaintops, I've got to get out of here, she thought, using her great-grandmother's favourite saying. 
According to the map, she was on an island close to the western coast of Pyrrhia, near the Kingdom of Sand. It would still take half a day's flight to get there, and the futures where she became a death weapon or killed on sight was painfully clear in her mind. Maybe I should just run away. Maybe I should just...
"What do you think you're doing!?" Clearsight's voice asked. Her normal mellow-tempered mother landed on the map, spraying sand all over Stormsong's talons. She hastily tucked away the conch shell in her satchel. "Do you have any idea - ANY IDEA - of how much worry you've put me through!?"
Darkstalker landed beside Clearsight. To Stormsong's relief, it appeared that he wasn't as panicky and frantic as her mother, who was now pacing along the beach agitatedly, but he didn't appear that happy with her.
Three moons, three moons, three moons, three moons, three moons....
"Don't try to worm your way out of this, Stormsong," Darkstalker said. 'What have you done?" He looked at what remained of the map, and then he looked up into his daughter's flat expression. "You...you didn't dare..."
"Dare to do what?" Stormsong asked defiantly, whisking her tail over the sand. She knew this was the exact wrong thing to say when Darkstalker exhaled a plume of fire. If he could, Stormsong was pretty sure there would be smoke coming out of his ears. So much for them caring if I'm alright or not, she thought.
Father winced. How could she forget that he was reading EVERY SINGLE THOUGHT in her MIND!?!?
"What did she think? What did she think?" Clearsight asked in a loud, carrying whisper. 
"Nothing of consequence," Darkstalker said lightly. He stared at Stormsong. "You did it, didn't you? You got rid of your animus power and put it in some sort of vessel. Stormsong, how many times...?"
"It's not my fault, Father! I was scared, I was stranded on this island all by myself, and I had to do something."
"You should have known that we were coming to rescue you and bring you back home, where you can be safe!"
"That future was so unlikely, Mother!" Stormsong cried. "I...I..." I didn't want you to think I was a monster.
"We would never think that you were a monster," Darkstalker said, taking a step closer. "We were just worried that..."
"What use is my power if I can't use it?" Stormsong asked. She felt the weight of conch shell in her satchel as it bounced against her shoulder. "I have this amazing gift, where I can do so many things to help other dragons. And I don't have to worry about a thing, because I will never become that murderous, crazy monster if I do too many spells." Now that she started speaking, the words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry, Mother and Father, but..."
"...but I would like to see what is in that satchel," Clearsight said crisply. She held out a talon.
Oh, Mother, Stormsong thought sadly.
"Please, please be careful," she pleaded as Clearsight took the satchel from around her night-black shoulders.  Her mother opened the satchel and reached in, fishing around until she suddenly froze and lifted out the conch shell. It shimmered in the sunlight as she turned it around in her claws. 
"What. Is. This." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Clearsight knew exactly what it was.
"I'll go ahead and take that now," Stormsong said quickly and nervously. She lunged for the conch shell, but then they all went shiveringly still as a winged shape darted across the sand.
SandWings.
WIP
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon)
Category:Fanfictions