#c:forest

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The journey was quick. Kaltrina carried Tsvetan, the snapper’s wings not made for the quick journey their constrained time required. The imperial led the way, scales so dark and star-filled that she nearly disappeared in the night sky. Only the gold she wore—shimmering metal glimmering against the moonlight—gave her away. Forest, Elune, and the two siblings flew quickly after, and for such a large group they made excellent time. Kaltrina cut a brutal pace, wings slick against the night air.

Voidsong watched Night fly ahead to shout at the imperial. “We’re getting closer!” she called out, voice carrying back towards him. He sensed it too, that anxious feeling that always came from the presence of a mimic. Thana’s army was many in number, and the weight of all their aura’s was a living thing that Voidsong could feel in the air. It always amazed him that others could not sense it.

Nightsong seemed to scan the ground, then come to a decision. She flicked a wing to get Kaltrina’s attention, then began to dive down towards the forest below. The rest of the party followed after, Nightsong leading them to a clear strip in between the thick of the trees.

“Night.” As soon as Voidsong neared, he glided towards his sister. “We need a plan. We don’t have the arsenal that proper Singers would, and that puts us at a disadvantage.”

The others gathered near, and Night spoke quickly. “I know,” she said, brow furrowed in thought. “But… I think it is also an advantage.”

“How do you mean?”

Nightsong shook her head. “Thana will not expect us to be so bold as to fly to her lair of mimics. We are untrained, as you said, and thus cannot take her on as a full Singer could.” She looked to the four outsiders. “But we have allies, and know-how. We don’t need to kill her, not tonight, but we can maybe get away with stealing back our friends.”

The two siblings shared a look, and it seemed as if they held an entire conversation in that one look. At last, Voidsong turned away. “Perhaps you are right.” He paused, then looked to the others. “Can any of you summon magic?” To Forest: “You can, yes? As a healer? Is any of your magic offensive?”

Forest nodded, unbothered by the violence Voidsong was asking of him. “Yes,” he replied easily. “Fire can burn as well as warm.”

“I have magic as well,” Elune said. “Although only a squire, I have trained many druids before joining this clan.” Budding vines seemed to weep gently out of her feathers, flowers blooming in the fur of her neck. The pretty stems quickly grew thorns, all coiling around her limbs. She did not seem bothered by the press of them.

Nightsong looked absolutely delighted by this, and perhaps any other night she would have peppered the skydancer with a dozen questions. On this night, however, she only nodded, then looked to Voidsong. “And we still have some tricks up our sleeves. We may only be apprentices, but we are also Shadow born. We will put up a fight.”

“Then we are ready?” Tsvetan asked. “Shall we march on them like an army at their gates?” At their expressions, he rumbled out a laugh. “Oh, be calm. I meant it only in jest. I’m sure you’ve already got a way to sneak our way in, hm?” He looked at them with twinkling eyes.

“Yes,” Voidsong said reluctantly, flicking his gaze over to Kaltrina. “And it relies mostly on Kaltrina walking very steadily.”

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 The plan was perhaps foolish. It was the kind of plan that could only be devised by a rag-tag group of strangers being led by not yet fully trained Singers.

“If this works, I will eat my own tail.” Nightsong’s void was barely more than a whisper, and yet it still managed to annoy Voidsong just as much as if she’d shouted.

“Shh,” he hissed, flicking her with his tail. “It will work.”

All five smaller dragons hid carefully underneath Kaltrina’s wings as she slowly crawled along the earth towards the lair. Her dark wings were stretched far out, with the two nocturnes on one side, and the other three on the other. Kaltrina was practically sliding on her belly, keeping so low to the ground that even the smaller dragons were forced to duck.

Of the limited magic that nocturne apprentices were expected to know even in training, the most useful skill was masking their presence from the mimics. This was taught for safety, not just of themselves, but for those they were expected to save. It worked well now, and even though Voidsong felt many mimic auras around him as they entered Thana’s camp, not one drew closer to their group.

This was the mimic’s secret, and the Singer’s, too: mimics could not see what they could not sense.

Once within the camp, not even Nightsong made a sound. Whatever their clan excelled in, the four outsiders also made no sound. Kaltrina did well to mask her own wings and tail with that of the wind, as if they were nothing more than a breeze stirring the grass.

Voidsong felt out with his magic. The aura of the mimics was congested in the center of the camp, and that was where he expected Thana to be. This was also where the captured dragons would be held, kept close to Thana so that she might quickly absorb them once the night passed and her magic achieved its finality.

Nightsong sensed her too, because they both shared a look before Night pressed her nose into Kaltrina’s wing and guided the imperial closer to the massive tent that made up Thana’s personal quarters.

The tent itself closely resembled a circus tent, a canvas stretched tight in an angular circle and flags catching the breeze. It towered over them all, even Kaltrina, and was easily three times the size of even a large breed dragon. It was a daunting sight, but Voidsong nudged his sister along, and although she hesitated a moment, she did continue to lead the others inside the tent.

Within, all was dark. The bare moonlight that illuminated the way outside did not seem to penetrate the thick canvas that made the walls of the tent, and once the flap fell closed behind them, they were alone in a dark room.

Or at least that was what it felt like for a moment before Elune’s glow resurfaced and the room was illuminated in the pale green light of her body. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It is hard to control.”

“No apologies needed,” Voidsong whispered back. “I’m grateful for it.” He squinted around the room, trying to figure out their surroundings. It looked like a food supply room, crates stacked high and smelling of rich meats and spices. Thana’s spirit had a vicious hunger, but so too did her stomach it seemed.

“Come,” Nightsong urged, leading the way to a wide archway. It towered over her, and it occurred to Void how they all seemed dwarfed by the building. It seemed strange to him, seeing as he had never seen another dragon with Thana, and she herself was a nocturne as well, the same size as the rest of them.

Carefully, the group glided through the tent. They were guided by Nightsong through twisting corridors, and she in turn was guided by the strong sense of nearby mimics. Like a hound sniffing out a meal, she led the way with an acute certainty.

Voidsong felt the strength of the mimic’s auras as they drew nearer, and when he thought his head might burst from the feel of it, Nightsong stopped short. She seemed to stare ahead, eyes out of focus, before blinking and coming to.

“Something is wrong,” she whispered, turning sharply. “We should turn ba-”

“Oh, nonsense.” The voice was high and ringing, seemingly coming from every direction at once. A light flashed on from nowhere at all, illuminating the group in a circle of white light. The walls had disappeared, and suddenly they found themselves in the center of a circular ring. It had been an illusion.

“A shame you figured it out, dear,” Thana crowed, “because it was such fun watching you all stumble around in the dark like freshly born hatchlings. Really, you Singers provide no end of entertainment for me.” There was a pregnant pause, and then the sneering voice continued. “Oh, but you aren’t Singers yet, are you? A pity. And a waste.”

Shapes twisted out of the shadows. At first, they were shape only, then Voidsong saw as they took on the shapes of dragons. With dawning horror, he realized he was looking at himself. And there was Nightsong, although her eyes were all black. He turned in a circle and saw duplicates of their entire party, all with eyes filled with void.

“The Shade?” Tsvetan asked, the old dragon sounding uncertain. “Does she work with that fowl darkness?”

“Darkness?” The voice tutted. “No, no. Can’t you see? They do not shy away from light.” The moon of light spread out wide, and suddenly the entire room was lit up. They were in the center ring of a circus show, their doppelgangers encircling them. Beyond, seats were stacked high and full of writhing mimics. It was a miracle the weight of their auras hadn’t suffocated Voidsong or Nightsong, but it occurred to Void that Thana might have been concealing the mimic’s energy just as much as the apprentices were concealing their own.

“Surprised?” Thana tittered and laughed. “You thought to trick me, apprentices? With four outsiders?” Her voice dropped an octave. “Or did you forget I know all your tricks?”

“We could never forget, betrayer.” Voidsong knew she was goading him, but he gladly took the bait. Anything to spit in her face.

“Is that what they’re calling me these days?” Thana’s voice was right behind him, but when he whipped around it was only to see himself. Her voice came from the mimic’s mouth, and it was strange to see himself speak another’s words. “You want to know what they used to call me?” The mimic trotted around Voidsong before grinning at him.

“Darksong.”

Void turned to see his sister, her face stony after uttering the name. She looked at Void, and he back. “Darksong,” he repeated.

Thana’s voice came from all around them again, amplified. “Darksong! The Dreamer!” She laughed, the sound pitched and strange. “I do not dream any more, apprentices.”

Voidsong found courage. “Release our mentor,” he called out. “Release their clanmates. Have you not feasted enough this year?”

The mimics in the stands roared and rioted suddenly, their cries feverish. The dragons in the ring jumped at the sudden commotion, and it was a moment before Thana deigned to silence them.

“Enough?” she barked out, her echoing voice silencing the mimics. “It is never enough, apprentice. Do you know what it takes to fill a void?”

A shape descended from the rafters, utterly black and nearly too quick to catch. It landed in the center of them all, and all six dragons turned to look upon it.

Thana stood on her hind legs, turning her face to the apprentices. Her body was nothing at all, and watching her move was strange. She was a lack of space, a thing of nonexistence. She had no shape, only the outline of a body. Where a dragon was supposed to stand, only a black void remained.