Eclipse of the Past

== Prologue ==
Darkstalker clouded his brow.
If only, if only! His lonely thoughts sang. Careful, he warned himself. You just woke up; mindreaders still exist in the NightWing tribe. He so honestly felt like lashing his tail––but that’s not how a mighty animus like him would behave, would it? But… still. He hated the cramped restraining walls around him, forcing him to crouch. He wanted to punch and burst through the probably miles of rock above him and see the three moons again. 
He missed Clearsight. Oh, but he so wanted to hate her! Hadn’t she betrayed him, in those final moments? Hadn’t she not trusted him and turned out to be untrustworthy herself? No. No, no, no. It was all Fathom, he was sure of it. It was all his fault. Clearsight was not to blame.
He missed her clear laugh, her way of loving him, even her pestering complaints and worries, which he had hated so much two thousand years ago. He missed their dragonets, too, even though they had never really existed except shining and bright in their minds. 
He remembered particularly loving Eclipse, so tiny, so shy, but so much like Clearsight that the resemblance neared uncanny, who, in his visions, had never doubted Darkstalker, not for a single moment. Eclipse, who he foresaw he would always deeply love and care for more than his other dragonets; Eclipse, who was never stuck-up about it; Eclipse, who he missed with all his heart. 
Eclipse, who didn’t exist. 
Darkstalker placed his talons on the stones of the rainforest. It was the day they had just arrived; him, that rather annoying Seawing animus named Anemone, the other sad NightWings or what passed for the pathetic wheezing tribe that was not at all what he had remembered two thousand years ago, and his friend, Moon, who seemed like Clearsight back from the dead. 
Finally, he was alone, after announcing that he was going to be the king and later, after the NightWings clamored for his magnificent gifts. He picked up a rough rock and studied it, and placed it down. His eye caught a particularly shimmery black stone, like it was taken from the night sky. Darkstalker snatched it up in his claws. Perfect. 
I enchant this stone to travel back in time to the time I awoke, when there was a false brightest night, when there was a comet that awoke me. I enchant you to then turn into the egg of my dragonet Eclipse, exactly as I and my love Clearsight foresaw, and hatch.
The rock vanished, hopefully complying to his wishes; after all, Darkstalker wasn’t completely sure that time travel was possible, even with animus magic. 
Then something woke in Darkstalker. Something that was kind, patronizing, stern, loving. It was a little scary, to be honest. 
He picked up another stone, this one a pale, glowing purple like an elegant orchid he had spotted in the rainforest. I enchant you to hover in front of me and lead me to my dragonet. My dragonet, Eclipse. 
It gave a little jump into the air, and stayed there. It wobbled a bit, as if unsure, and finally led the way through the damp rainforest. 
Darkstalker followed it, unsure, but hopeful. Please, please, please work, he thought. 
After a while, the stone paused, then flew down to a thick stand of ferns. It nudged the ferns aside and dove into the plants. Bend down, ferns, Darkstalker commanded, and they willingly bent. 
Inside was a tiny, beautiful NightWing dragonet, only a few days old, with black and deep purple scales that somehow suggested echoes, small wings that she held rather awkwardly, and a long tail that she had curled into a loop. She had small, glittering silver scales at the corners of her eyes like a teardrop about to fall, and a small furrow in her forehead that suggested that she could see the future. 
Darkstalker smiled down at her. “Eclipse,” he said softly. “My beautiful dragonet, who has inherited my powers.”
The orchid-colored stone lightly nudged her shoulder. And Eclipse awoke.
Darkstalker refrained from staggering back at the sight of her eyes: a bewitching but startling amethyst color. But other than that unanticipated thing, everything was just as he wished. 
He picked up the tiny dragonet. “Hello, Eclipse,” he murmured. “I am Darkstalker. Your father.” Oh, how dream-like was it to even say that?
“Awrrrk?” Eclipse squeaked. 
Darkstalker searched her thoughts, which were in pictures instead of words. He delved into the futures at the same time… and froze. 
“Little Eclipse,” he realized, softly smiling, “You… are gifted, as am I.”
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)