[center][h1]Chapter 22[/h1][/center] Watchful didn’t forget, as a matter of fact, he could not just forget but he still hasn’t built the will to read the letter. Every time he was reminded of its presence, the object felt like a cancerous growth coming out of his chest, sometimes even pressing against his throat as if it tried to strangle him for not having the courage to read it. He had moved from Sanctuary to Possibility to Among-The-Evergreen with the missive still in his neck pouch. He would reach for it from time to time but his talon would shake whenever he touched the soft paper, so he had never managed to get it out to peruse it. Even if he was dying to know what Piteraq had written all those years ago, he couldn’t get past the knot forming in his stomach whenever he tried. He sighed softly then reached for the steaming coffee pot to pour some into a large clay goblet to which he then added a small amount of fresh walrus milk, &emdash;which happened to be in great abundance in the Ice Kingdom because the IceWings enjoying its texture and richness and so did Watchful.&emdash; He softly leaned back in his chair and the fire crackled in the hearth. His very nature as half-IceWing didn’t exactly make him require any external heating but he liked the cozy and hypnotizing sights and sounds. The amber flames licked the already blackened logs and made the small twigs crepitate in a delightful pyrotechnical show. As he laid further down, the usual weight pressed against his chest once more. He looked down at the pouch and instinctively reached inside, his claws fiddling with the laces of his brown sturdy bag, the one he had enchanted to never impair his flight and still carry whatever he needed. As his talon slid inside, they locked onto the correspondence, pulled it out and opened it mechanically. He stared blankly at the paper in front of him for a long moment. The fire in the hearth was dancing silently and the wind outside had died down, even the clock had stopped ticking. The sound of his breath brought him back from his soundless, colorless world. He had done it and it hadn’t caused him any ill feeling. The words ran across the paper and he was reading them before he even realized. [center][i][b]“[/b] Dear Watchful, [b]”[/b][/i][/center] He sat up and took a better posture to continue reading as the fire popped loudly. [center][i][b]“[/b] If you are reading this, it is because I am dead. Whether it was by your claw or not is of no importance, I shall bear no ill-will in the afterlife if there is one. I know you have your reasons to despise me and I understand them but even when your brain tells you otherwise, I know that you do not hate me and I do not hate you, I even considered you as my son. In fact, we are related in more ways than one. We are both animus and both IceWings, even if you are only half one. What this means is we both are the most powerful dragons on the planet and if we ever wanted it we could just have any dragon kneeling before us and torturing them for all the bad things they did to us, whether that be bad parenting, bullying or dictatorship, but as you may have noticed after all those years, I do not believe such things can do any good. People will know and will remember and even if you tried to write the best spell you can, spending decades choosing each word carefully until you think you’ve mastered it, you will never achieve perfection. There will always be a crack where truth will seep through. And you maybe wondering how do I know this... Well, I tried. Yes, I’m confessing it here, I once tried to save the IceWing tribe as you so many times accused me not to do. I was young when I started, probably 5 or 6 but I already knew I was an animus and I also knew about the Ice Kingdom rules about us. I hated them with a passion, so I hid my powers, I used spells to cover myself. I think that’s about then when I wrote the spell which protected me against other animus and their own spells. At the time, the idea of circles around the crown repulsed me intensely, I couldn’t conceive the idea that anyone would be so vain that they would do anything to be as close as possible to the Queen, and I realized I wasn’t the only one, so I thought about it. And I acted, I cast a spell that there should be no circle and that dragons shouldn’t seek to join them but only a couple months later, they invented a new method, one even more cynical that involved spending your goods to get a moment at or near the throne... So I canceled my spell and wrote another, and then another and... Well, you get the idea but it only got worse each time, to the point where mothers were sacrificing their newborn to be part of the Queen’s active circle and healthy IceWings sold their organs on the market, in plain sight. I didn’t realize that it was in the dragon’s nature to be self-destructive no matter the boundaries you impose on them. There is not in a spell in Pyrrhia that could ever change what dragons are except destroy them, but would one[/i] really [i]want that? So I fled, both in defeat and to protect myself and probably also others. There is no trace of what I did but in my head. I have carried those memories to my grave because I didn’t want to forget the abominable things I did when I was a youngling, I could have easily erased them, it would have been just another spell for me, just like it would just be another spell to make myself happy and willfully ignorant of our tribe. May you never have to suffer this fate. You have already suffered enough, Watchful, and I tried my best to support and help you, alas I have failed you if you are reading this letter. You have a great potential but you carried way too many burden for your young shoulders being an hybrid like the DarkStalker and with the same powers. I cannot fathom what you had to endure to traverse the desert and get here in Sanctuary.[/i][/center] [center][i]I have never read your mind, your memories are yours to keep or share as you decide not for others to dig through but also because you were such an open book, there was no need for it. You carry what I, and you probably, consider the curse of the NightWing mind-readers and I know how you hate that. I regret not having spent enough time teaching you about controlling your animus power but I never felt you were ready for it. Maybe, I should have made you ready... I feel like I could have been a better father to you, perhaps. Your...[/i] mind... [i]was different to say the least as if you lived with a second and much darker self hidden deep within that threatened to take control every time you felt irritated. I thought of[/i] curing [i]you, several times, but I wasn’t sure if it was right to enchant a dragon or change them to the point where they are not themselves anymore. I probably could have asked you if you were willing for this but again, I was afraid the solution might have been just rose-tinted glasses. A crutch that you would grow wary of as time passes if it didn’t solve your issues. Wouldn’t it be better to overcome one’s problems on your own rather than being decided by others? But then, you probably could ask,[/i] what about dictators, dragons drunk with power, those who will not listen to reason? What is the good thing one should do? [i]And to this day, I have not found the answer. I admit that doing nothing is also accepting but I will argue that I haven’t done nothing, even if I sometimes only did not as much as I probably should have. You have said that I didn’t save IceWings when they were attacked by DarkStalker, however I secretly helped the IceWing who couldn’t reach out for the earring to the best of my abilities. I didn’t want Him to find me, so I had to be extra careful, IceWings dragonets are taught at a very young age about Him and the powers he wielded. I may have studied animus for the past three decades, but I still feel like I don’t know anything about it and yet He was a master of it as if he had been born from it... So I saved a few here and there, and I enchanted this place as well as Possibility to be protected, but I ask you not to tell anyone. But if you think you need to do it, you will know where to find my scrolls. Just don’t destroy my wards without a good reason is all I ask. Powers can be both a curse and a blessing. Though if you are taught how to use them and to trust in others, then maybe there is hope for the future. When Pyrrhia is ready for a new and better life, all this will someday come to pass in The Great Ice Dragon’s good time. [b]”[/b][/i][/center] Watchful looked up at the fire, the letter tightly in his talon, sightly shaking. He had been through two of the pages already and there was still one more to read, but he wasn’t sure if he should continue or leave the rest for later. He sipped on his coffee with his eyes closed, gripping the cup with both of his talons to steady it. So many things went through his head that he just couldn’t focus for the time being. He held the steaming mug under his nose and took a long breath fogging his mind with the tingling scents of Robusta. He clutched on them for as long as he could trying to freeze time on this thought-free moment. Forever. He had no worries anymore, no pain or shame. He carried no regret and no desire. He just wanted to be one with the coffee, be the coffee and be appreciated. Be brewed and drunk over and over as he kept stimulating the host’s neurons. He had found a purpose in life. One that didn’t involve revenge and killing. It was good and he knew he would just have to ask the magic to give him that, to change him, to be what he wanted to be. He could just cast a quick spell and be done with it. No more worries... It was that simple. Wasn’t it? He opened his eyes and stared at his claws shaking. His grip on the mug tightened to stop the tremors. He was back in his house in the middle of the Ice Kingdom forest. The fire was slowly dieing down and the air had grown colder. Slowly, He blinked. Did he dream his life? All those scrolls written ages ago to take revenge on those who mocked and betrayed him, on his mother and all those mind-readers... No. Those were real. He killed them, or at least he tried. He never really bothered to check, he knew the magic would never miss. Or so he thought until he had recognized that dragonet outside of the RainForest not so long ago. But for the others, it must have worked. The black bear, the construction beam, that tree... All of those deaths were justified, the voice in his head said so, and it was never wrong. It said it would feel good and it did. It did... when he wasn’t watching it. It felt good to write the scroll, to imagine the death, to picture it exactly how he thought it would happen in his brain. But it didn’t feel good when he witnessed it. The voice had said it would make a fine memory but it didn’t. Watching Piteraq frozen like a statue and being steadily consumed by his flame made him want to puke. But he had listened to the voice, he did it again. And again. He just made sure he wasn’t there when it happened for the subsequent ones. That was the good part of the animus magic, he didn’t need to hold the weapon himself. He could just proxy it and enjoy the adrenaline in anticipation. And yet, he had never really thought about what he would do if his spells failed. Or even if they worked. He only felt the thrill in anticipation as he couldn’t know when his spell would act. Or maybe he didn’t [i]want[/i] to know. The voice in his head would always calm down once he sent the scroll do its work, and he would sometimes feel disgusted at himself for doing it but he never tried to counteract his action as if he thought he could not change what, for him, had already happened. But always the voice would wake up louder each time he found a new NightWing target. But it was worth it. So he thought. They all deserved it. So he thought. Why would he be the only one to suffer? Watchful breathed out deeply and firmly grabbed his chair’s handle to calm down. He didn’t want to wake up the voice. He reached for the pot and filled his mug again. Outside, wolves started singing. [center][i][b]“[/b] So, you must be wondering why I told you all that. An old IceWing rambling about his mistakes... I can hear you mumbling to yourself already. Speaking of which, I also want to apologize for never offering to heal your speech impediment, it felt wrong at the time and I never built the strength to ask your opinion on it. I don’t want to hide behind the reason that you could have asked me if you wanted, I already did that on the previous page of this long letter. I know I could have brought it to you and explain everything about it. I guess I was so used to dragons coming to me to cure their problems that I never thought I could be the one pointing them out.[/i][/center] [center][i]The reason I am saying all this, Watchful, is that, resentment is never worth it. Violence is not a solution to all problems and you will end up with regrets and sorrows. There are things that even the most powerful magic in the world cannot do. Many a great artisan before me have thought about it, and I haven’t come across any literature that offered a single solution to it. I been through this, thoroughly testing it myself despite all the warnings I had been told from those who tried before me and I failed miserably with a head full of massacres that no one can remember. I cannot even recollect how many different futures our species went through before I have had my ways with them, with other animus trying to make a better future for ourselves. Our Queen imposes that animus dragons should only use their power once for a gift to the tribe but I would be lieing if I said that every single one of them obeyed this order. The Queen then and now would have a hard time proving it, lest they wrote a spell about it and I don’t think they ever did as they were the ones abusing it in the first place.[/i][/center] [center][i]But I know you will not read this before you have fallen down that well. And when that happens, all you can do is ask for forgiveness and accept that it will be denied. It sounds like a lot and I do admit that this is the way it is but it’s a necessity. If you have reached that low, what has been done is irreversible and you must accept its consequences. I cannot predict what each affected dragon will ask of you but know that not all of them will be forgiving. And so after reading this, you may decide to hide yourself, to change people view so that they ignore you, or any other spell in that manner, and truly I understand you, not to say that I approve but I understand. I did the same in my time... for a while. Until I could not live with it anymore. Your experience may vary and you might never feel any guilt over it and so I guess that would be it, but you wouldn’t have read this letter if that was the case. I know you, Watchful. I know you all too well, almost like a son. I hope you will be able to find the peace you seek. I refused to call for help when I needed it and I paid the price all my life but I managed to amend most of it. And my soul is forever tainted of those I betrayed and mistreated. I chose to be a doctor to repent to the best of my abilities and help all the dragons that came to me and when I think about it, I’m probably glad that the ones I made suffer don’t remember about it for they would have called me out even down in Sanctuary. Sometimes I feel like MayFly knew but never said a word...[/i][/center] [center][i]And then when I saw you for the first time, I wished I still had the guts to just change people for good. I wanted to help you, to make you forget, to make you happy and never remember one single bad thing about your past. But I had seen the consequences. [/i]Never again.[/center] [center][i]So I beg you, whatever you have done until now, you must stop and think about it before you cannot be saved anymore. I implore you, my son.[/i][/center] [center][i]I am proud to have met you and I will always watch over you.[/i][/center] [right][i]Piteraq[/i][/right] [center][i][b]”[/b][/i][/center]