Hawkins couldn’t get her name out of his head no matter how much he drank.

He despised the flash of light that had shown him his past along with that wretched black phoenix. It had faded into ash and rose once again as a torrent of flame snuffed out the light in an instant. Hawkins knew what he saw was different compared to the others but he couldn’t help but attempt to drown out her name with alcohol in place with another.

Eventually the sweet taste of the name he had seen became bitter as it twisted into a foul tongue, tainted by the past of the Night Force Captain. That was all he knew, from then on. That was all she wanted. Family didn’t matter when it came to those bound by Trait. He didn’t suit her ideals so he left her before the wounds had a chance to fester in his heart. No matter how much he denied it, they always remained.

“So, now what?” Hawkins said loudly, breaking the silence at last.

Time had passed achingly slow as the trio had decided to stay within the careful confines of the library, leaving the black grimoire alone for a few hours to contemplate their sudden discovery. Odi had given the Abnormal a name but he didn’t bother remembering it, cracking open his second bottle of Black Wing. To his dismay, every bottle he opened reminded him of the burden of the secret they all now shared.

“What do you mean?” the Sand Wraith replied, still nursing his damaged leg.

Hack had propped it up on a cushion, applying a series of remedies he had seen in the medicinal journals he had read earlier. The stool he had previously sat on was now used in a more convenient way due to his large frame swamping the poor, deadened wood while in the workshop. Hack’s other leg rested on the floor against a set of empty blueish black bottles, some full, most of them empty of the overly matured rum premixed by a variety of Trait methods.

“Maybe we should, I dunno...celebrate? Or dread the wrath of an ironically dead necromancer?” Hawkins said, his intentions clear from the very first moment.

Hawkins could barely register Hack’s snarl as nothing more than a reaction to the medicine on his cursed leg. It was a mix of purple and yellow mush which gave off a smell of burnt oranges and garlic. The Sand Wraith bit back a response, fists clenched in anger as the clock in the corner, chimed midnight.

“Watch it, boyo. You know how easily angered dragons can be.” Hack said, casting the Mediators attention towards Odi, lounging on a stack of books like it was her prize horde.

The clock chimed again, a miniscule, wooden version of a dragon popped out, fangs bared as the sun at the top swung round to reveal a carving of a crescent moon. Hawkins turned away, his mind warping the burnished black wood of a black dragon to a dappled grey blur.

“Sorry. Forgot she had a soft spot for the land of the dead.” Hawkins drawled, unaware of the effects of the alcohol.

Hack merely rolled his eyes, sighing at the sight of the drunken idiot he had once called his apprentice. Amidst the silence, the Sand Wraith watched as Odi poured over each morsel of information like it was her last meal, devouring every ounce of text as her eyes flitted back and forth, her claws turning the pages with impressive speed and dexterity as not to harm even a single thinly lined paragraph.

It was plain to see that books were not only her ultimate treasure, but her biggest escapism.

Hawkins let out a laugh, his voice cold and empty yet full of mirth as he took another long swig of alcohol. Then another. He slammed the bottle down on the floor beside him with a clunk, another one empty. Several more to go. Annoyed at the fact, Hawkins decided to continue with his tirade, finding the topic of conversation relevant to his gripe with the world they all lived in.

“To think that grimoire belonged to HER of all people. Isn’t it a good thing that Rider’s..well, dead?”

Hack hissed at Hawkins damnable lack of tact, the rum loosening both his tongue and brain in the worst way possible. The foolish man never did get over his demons, choosing instead to be washed away into euphoria and amnesia when he wasn’t throwing himself into his work. Now he was being outmatched by someone he envied most. An Oathed.

“Regardless of what she’s done in the past, she deserves to be remembered.” Hack said, forcing himself to remain calm and neutral towards the discussion.

Odi’s weight shifted, the book closing as she set it aside against a different cluster of literary gems, her intelligent eyes well aware of the difficult conversation ahead. Watching the two gentlemen, she nestled within the protective embrace of her library, pondering her words carefully before deciding to stick to the facts.

“Memoriam, the black grimoire is still active. It’s extremely old and obviously powerful enough to cope on it’s own for a while yet. Question is, what do you want to do with it?”

Hawkins flinched, visibly affected by the dragons piercing gaze, despite his own hazy vision sending the room spinning.

“You have it, Odi.” he said, waving his hand as if swatting a fly. “I don’t want anything more to do with it.”

The Scale Shrieker looked up at him, still morose from the vision. Hack knew she would be taking it harder than anyone else did. She would throw herself into her discoveries again and lock herself away like last time. At least she and the dunce of a Mediator had something in common.

“You don’t...care?” she said quietly, unable to comprehend the nature of a drunken mind.

“I just wanna get back to work and forget this whole damn thing ever happened.” he slurred, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to focus them and cast away the sleep.

“Those who see a black phoenix as a mark on a grimoire are forced to remember it for all eternity. Even if we wanted to forget, we couldn’t.” Hack said, reminding them of the text shown to them in the grimoire before it shut in their faces once again.

Odi nodded in agreement, shaking her head awake in an attempt to keep her mind as sharp as ever. For someone so used to late nights, the midnight hour was taking its toll on them all. Hack winced with every passing word, his scales slowly dulling as the curse now spread not just to his body but his ailing mind.

He could barely remember the point to all this chaos, only ever being jolted awake by the sight of a black dragon he had once known but could never fully recall. Odi had to keep him focused on understanding the now. It was the only way to motivate him to do what needed to be done. For all their sakes.

“The Captain of the Night Force has always been a sought after title. There should be outright clan wars vying for her assets. Why would it not be the same now once her death has been confirmed?” Odi said, purposefully digging up the past in an attempt to figure out this mess of a fued.

She wanted to know. Needed to know. But Hawkins would not give up the information so freely. Truth or not, trust was earned and gained through understanding. It was the knowledge of being understood that Odi knew best.

“You haven’t been outside in a while, have you?” he barked with laughter, the mocking, matter of fact tone towards such an obvious sounding statement.

Hack lashed out at him in an instant, completely forgetting his crippled state as his cursed left leg shot out like a javelin, inches away from Hawkins newly healed arm. He knew full well the reason behind Odi’s seclusion but not wanting to say anything more to respect both the wishes of the dead and the living. Odi looked away, embarrassed and amused at the Sand Wraith’s sudden response, a whisper of a smile giving her hope. He wasn’t dead yet. There was still life in his cursed, old bones.

“I guess it has been a few decades…” she pondered, staring up at the clock as she shuffled about, searching for something to take her mind off things.

Rooting through the endless stacks of ledgers and scrapbooks, Odi busied her mind as Hack clutched his leg in silent anger causing Hawkins to pick up another bottle in quick succession. Sand Wraith’s were typically violent, sly creatures but it was rare to see them defend someone other than themselves. Hack truly was different. Hopefully, Hawkins despite his faults would turn out to be an interesting enigma as well.

“So, what happened?” she said, reigniting the flame of conversation.

The Mediator burped, groaning at the increasing headache only to find an overly curious Scale Shrieker staring at him with eager eyes, almost ravenous to hear the history she had missed for so long within this cramped library. Hawkins sighed, deciding to humour the dragon and her wishes, ignoring Hack’s grumbles of discontempt towards his brazen attitude.

“They were rivals with the Excelliar clan. Somethin’ about how they used their Traits to combat the demons. The Excelliars from Opalis used mostly light based Trait while the Night Force idiots from Shuriken used necromancy.”

Hack huffed, folding his arms as he attempted to settle back into his chair, listening despite Hawkins obvious bias against the necromancers in full swing. Hawkins set his drink aside on a stack of books, attempting to recall the rest of the story much like the last dregs of rum from the end of a bottle.

“That’s the problem. Necromancy has been banned for years.” Hack said solemnly, the hint of sadness barely recognisable amidst the fog of drink Hawkins had consumed.

He saw it as a statement. Nothing more.

The Night Force were once a legendary clan of Traited and dragons alike, hand picked from all around Para Dormus. No task was too big or too small and they had once claimed over two hundred members alongside a sizable amount of terrain from Nocturus to right in the heart of Axis. Nowadays, no one dared speak of the deadly Night Force clan. To even utter the words was to invite death itself into your life. No good ever came from those associated with the black sigil of the Night Force.

“Of course they refused to accept that necromancy was no good and were eventually killed or exiled from Opalis entirely.” Hawkins blurted out, startling the group unexpectedly.

It seemed he wanted to continue on ahead with the debate. Hack’s leg twinged as his scales turned a deep red in anger, attempting to harness the earth from below, rattling the pipes and shaking the bookshelves. He should have known Hawkins felt this way but he wasn’t much of a small talker and the Night Force wasn’t exactly a topic for the workplace.

“So there might still be some out there in hiding?” Odi said, trying to sound hopeful despite the dreary tone.

Hack snorted, sending up a flurry of dust into the air.

“Yeah, if you wanna go casually searching around the Swarm asking for anyone who knew ‘em, be my guest.”

Hawkins grumbled wordlessly, not enjoying being reminded of his last encounter with them, fighting the urge to take another drink. His heart hurt at the thought of the young smoke troll alone in Axis, Hellgrind knows where. Odi averted her gaze, shuffling about awkwardly at the thought of bringing up bad memories of one of the largest Trait gangs in all of Opalis.

“Well, what of their Captain? Surely the Night Force would want to mourn her?” Odi said, insisting that someone, somewhere would mourn the loss of such a formidable Traited.

“She destroyed Shuriken, an entire country! Why would you?”

Hawkins stood up in annoyance before Odi could interrupt, swaying slightly but managed to keep his footing by clawing the armchair. The room spun but he held on for grim death, determined to make his opinions known.

“No one who willingly used their Shadow Trait, bloody necromancy of all things to decimate an entire race of Traited deserves to be mourned for their actions, regardless of what flaming tripe of a black phoenix tells me to!”

The bottles resting lazily on the ground suddenly smashed together in a spray of broken glass, the stray bottle of rum now joining the fray. The very bottle that had been teetering on the edge of the cluster of discarded grimoires had been swept away by Hawkins smoke, his anger and unsteadiness becoming centre stage.

Hack clenched his grizzled jaw, his words dying in his throat as time hung like the silence in the air, waiting for someone, anyone to break or explode in retaliation. Odi’s gaze was calming but calculating, like a praying mantis eyeing its next move as the Mediator scolded himself under his breath.

Her eyes flitted from side to side, examining Hawkins despite his drunken stupor, commanding his Trait to clear away the broken glass, plucking it out of the nooks and crannies barely visible for an able sighted Traited let alone a severely inebriated one. The tangible smoke gathered the shards into one neat pile in the corner before smothering it like a cloud blocking out the sun before nestling within the single corner, the lack of a wastebasket no longer a problem.

“Leave it. It’s fine as it is.” Odi said, gesturing for Hawkins to sit.

Sitting down once again, he muttered an apology as Hack pretended not to notice, instead being distracted by a different medical diary which detailed the processes of a Goldclaw dragons hatching methods. Interesting but irrelevant.

“Were you from Shuriken?” the Scale Shrieker asked tentatively, leaning one foreclaw over the other in an attempt to restart the conversation.

Hawkins attempted to settle himself down but he couldn’t help but fidget, not knowing what to do with his hands now all the bottles of Black Wing were gone. It took his brain a while to come up with an answer, shaking his head enthusiastically despite the sad topic being discussed.

“No.”

He stopped, unsure of whether to continue.

Odi knew from Hack’s early Mediator days that they were required to have a higher tolerance for alcohol but no Traited could have stayed sober with the amount Hawkins had consumed. She’d have to remember that the next time two Mediators suddenly arrived at her doorstep.

“But I know someone who was.”

Hawkins muttered sadly, his head lowering in remembrance. Hack watched the exchange through lidded eyes, half his attention on the book before him, balancing one scaly arm against his leg. His scales had dimmed from a bright scarlet to a cool blue, barely visible against the tattered armchair of a similar colour.

“I see.” Odi said, unsure of how to proceed.

She didn’t want to pry any further especially in Hawkins current state, he was bound to forget this conversation even happened but on the off chance he didn’t...there was still the necessary task of finding out why he hated necromancers so much. He had to have a reason more than just the status quo of thinking.

“No one can deny that necromancy is at least an efficient method of ridding the world of demons. It is not the root of the problem, is it not?”

Hawkins hands twitched, Hack scoffed staying silent as he watched Odi begin to unravel the past bit by bit. No matter how hard Hawkins tried to hide his reactions a dragon knew the clench of a jaw, the tugging of a sleeve, the slow blinking acting as an imitation for someone who was bored but was uber focused on their own counts of breathing. All sure signs of irritation.

“I don’t understand why they would outlaw progress completely. Surely Shuriken was a terrible accident and they could consider the benefits of such-”

Odi stopped as a sudden burst of laughter filled the air, cold and unfeeling. Hawkins ran a hand through his hair, knocking his head back at the change in tone from the Scale Shrieker.

“Of course YOU would think so.” he said, glaring at the Sand Wraith despite replying to the dragon in front of him.

Hack caught his eye and let out a growl of frustration. He had been reading a controversial tome called Curses & Calamities which detailed a lot of the methods they had been arguing about. Seeing the tension between the two of them, an uncertain scholar and furiously drunk Mediator both with a talent for grimoires annoyed Hack to no end. They were both like minded individuals. He had hoped they’d get along despite their conflicting opinions.

“That’s enough of that, Hawkins.” Hack scolded, his foreboding tone giving way to sheer annoyance.

He could feel the shift in Trait, the gathering of dust and soot as his smoke still clinging to the broken glass and then, a third almost undetectable Trait rising to the surface like an oncoming wave. Odi’s Trait. Hack paled, his scales darkening at the thought of what could happen, a rampaging Scale Shrieker or an uncontrollable Smoke Traited? He eyed the Mediator in the corner of the room, attempting to hide his unusual confidence with a smug smile, Odi’s confusion causing it to widen in delight.

“What? You know it’s true.” Hawkins said, knowingly.

Hack slammed his book closed, startling the book lover dragon who was not happy with Hawkins blunt, hostile attitude towards her. She had no clue what he meant and soon the frustration passed over to her, the shelves rattling in response. If Hack was annoyed then surely his inclinations were once again a matter of his stubborn, opinionated nature. She didn’t need to know his thinking to see it was anything but a friendly comment.

“What is that supposed to mean, Mediator?” she said, attempting to suppress a low growl from bursting through her calm demeanour.

Hawkins smiled wanly, his eyes unblinking as he felt for his lighter within his jacket pocket, feeling the curling smoke around his fingertips. Folding his arms, he kicked back his feet as a distraction, hiding his lighter within a closed fist. A single look towards Hack confirmed his suspicions. He had known all along yet had chosen to ignore it.

“I mean no disrespect…” he began, hinting to anything but.

“You are a Scale Shrieker after all. You’re with the Shadow side of things, of course you’d see it as a viable method.”

The dragon growled low in response to the challenge, Hawkins raised his hands in mock surrender, the lighter sliding down out of view underneath the cuff of his sleeve. He could sense the smoke rising and falling against the gloomy shadows in an attempt to snuff them out through concentration alone. He was right. There was more to this conversation than he had initially thought. Another Trait clung in the air like a fog, invisible but still tangible despite Hack’s cloying earth disguising her veil of power.

“Yet you do not? There cannot be light without shadow. It is the way of things, it always has been.” she argued, her scales bristling upright.

Hawkins shook his head a little too quickly in response to the dragons insistence. Odi now stood among the gloom of her nest, the books being flung from their shelves and one by one being added to her ever growing pile, the lights threatening to go out by every passing second.

“Not anymore. The Divide, the Trait barrier blocks all that bad, necro energy, no one could use Shadow Trait even if they tried.” he said, reciting the words he knew off by heart.

“You don’t know that for sure!”

Odi’s distress continued, the library shelves beginning to shut the way through to the workshop, hiding the Memoriam from view. Hack flung a small pebble at her in an attempt to get her attention but it was no use. He couldn’t ask her to calm down, that was the worst thing to say to a dragon with a rising temper. It was obvious that Hawkins had no intentions of stopping.

“Don’t you see, Odi? Light rules over all. Not that we get much here in the first place. If there was a Shadow Traited here, they’d be long dead and buried. Just like their coward of a Captain.”

Odi let out a vicious snarl, increasing rapidly in size as the weight made the floorboards creak ominously, she struggled to rein in her anger as her scales shifted continuously changing from large to small and back again.

“Is that so?” she spat, cold hard fury bristling from every nerve in her body.

Hawkins ignored her, the alcohol still warping his vision despite his heightened sense of fear, his smoke swarming around him like a protective beacon. Hack meanwhile was focusing on keeping both him and his friends alive even if they had both failed to realise what kind of danger they’re in.

“Odi, don’t. You know he’s had too much to drink. He doesn’t mean-”

Odi shut him up with a single look.

“Drink or not, he has no right to insult the dead like that. You warned him once, I will not be privy to such lies!”

Hawkins lazily rolled his eyes, the sight before him a mess of colour as he let out a large yawn, his eyes blurring together all the sights of the descending darkness, the lights barely holding on as the angry Scale Shrieker was hidden from view.

“I’m not lying. I’m just stating the facts, isn’t that right, Odiphilis?”

That was the last straw. The shadows swarmed from within the library, hidden underneath cracks and crevices in the wall only to be met with a barrage of broken glass projectiles reinforced by a wall of smoke.

“I knew you were one of them.” he slurred, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “You’re a damn, Shh…Shadow Traited!”

Odi snarled viciously at the incompetent fool before her, spouting lies as loose as his silver tongue. The surrounding shadows and smoke continued to clash around the oblivious Mediator, still enjoying his previous round of debate with the dragon, humming quietly to himself. He should be so lucky.

The lights suddenly descended into darkness, an ominous halo of silvery light emerging from the shadows as if whisking away the very element it clung to. The shadow became smoke. The smoke became ash as bit by bit, two opposites attracted in a blast of Trait, causing the room to be enveloped in light once again. She emerged from the darkness, preening her scales as if nothing had happened, the shards of glass now disintegrated into ash.

Hawkins was now on the floor, all traces of his inebriation now vanished as he stared up at the dragon, slack jawed and speechless. He couldn’t understand it. A Scale Shrieker dragon using shadows without its partner nearby, without a grimoire but still being able to exist? Impossible. It went against everything he knew about the world he lived in. Every text, every word he had ever written told him it was wrong yet, here she was standing right before him.

“But the Divide...I’ve seen it, only a few days ago! It blocks the demons from entering, it always has.”

Odi sniffed, visibly upset by the exchange of words and Trait, coiling away from them both as she tried to settle herself down, breathing slow as the shadows slowly fizzled out alongside the ever increasing light.

“There is no doubt of that for now, Mediator. But whoever told you the Shadow Traited and the demons of Hellgrind were the same thing is sorely mistaken.” she huffed, annoyed at how such a thing could be suggested.

Hawkins slumped near the foot of the chair, edging himself away from the dragon, his head in his hands. It was all too much for him. His head was baragged by questions and alcohol, the revelation that Opalis had lied to them all was something he couldn’t even bear to believe.

“No. That’s a lie.”

Odi growled at his choice of words, Hack throwing his arms up into the air as if to say, ‘you’re on your own, boyo.’ Hawkins ignored them both, fed up of them conspiring against him as he searched for his cigarettes and lighter to act as a crutch against the unknown and uncertainties this discussion had wrought upon them all.

“Lady Aria said it herself.” he began between pursed lips, a cigarette now wedged in between them. “Why do you think Shadow Traited are so rare? They were exiled years ago. They were the reason the demons returned in the first place!”

Odi rolled her eyes at his narrow way of thinking, frustrated at how much of his ramblings seemed to get under her scales and sent her temper flaring. He may have read every book in Opalis at that time but he was not there. He did not see nations fall, the skies plummet into darkness only to become bombarded by unrelenting blasts of light.

“You would put the word of one measly Throneholder over the word of a Scale Shrieker? We dragons do not lie, Mediator. You’d do best to remember that.”

Hawkins said nothing, allowing the continuous realm of smoke to invade his senses, leaning back against the headboard as Odi turned his back to him, unsatisfied with his logic of the world they both now lived in. The lights slowly began to immerse the room in its calming glow, Hack slowly turning a stone over and over in his hands to pass the time, watching as inch by inch the hidden corridor to the black grimoire slid open once again. The Sand Wraith knew a sulking dragon when he saw it and Odi, was not one of them.

Her emotions were betrayed by the very thing she loved most in this world and despite every ounce of logic and reason whirring through her brain, she turned her dark scaled body back around to gaze at the Mediator. He was curled up in a ball at the foot of her favourite chair, his knees tight to his chest as he gripped them tightly. Odi slinked towards him in one smooth motion and nudged his newly healed arm with her snout. For him to understand, she needed to try again.

“No Trait is good or bad, it all depends on how it is used. Saying my Shadow is evil is like naming all dragons vicious and cruel. We are all one in the same, are we not? What we choose to do is how we live. Just like how you chose to pick up that grimoire regardless of its Trait.”

“It was an accident...” he murmured in response, half heartedly sighing as he failed to finish what he wanted to say, seeing no point to the conversation.

“Was it? As you say Shuriken was not?”

Hawkins grit his teeth, knowing full well what she was trying to do. Odi knew damn well about what happened with the Truant, no the Overtaken. He was furious that she had dared to use his trust so flippantly, as if how he felt didn’t matter. She knew how hard it was to confide in anyone after the obituary incident, how embarrassed he was that he had gotten annoyed at something that was supposed to represent the best part of himself. Traits were irreplaceable but to him, so was Wisp.

"It almost got me killed! Had it not started sparking all over the place, I would have never gone to Axis, the Swarm wouldn’t have shown up and Wisp wouldn’t have ran away!"

Odi smiled, finally seeing him for the first time that day. He used anger to hide his pain. Just like how she used knowledge to hide her naivety. She thought for a moment, finding it much easier to stay patient with someone who was open to how their perception could be changed. If it was about anything but his Agar, she doubt he’d be so honest with his words. Mediator or not.

“But much like the grimoire of black, your smoke troll friend decided it was better to split up than to cause you more pain. That was his choice to make. What do you think would have happened if he had stayed?”

The glimmer of understanding shone in his eyes, Odi’s kind smile helping to coax him along regardless of his shaking hands.

“He...would have been killed.” he admitted, hating himself at the thought. “By the Overtaken. Even if I survived he could have rampaged like before and…”

Hawkins hid his face in his hands, the sudden dread washing over him like a wave of anxiety. The tears fell as quickly as it came, the feeling of a gentle but coarse head providing comfort and stability descended on him like a weight being lifted from his back.

“You did not want that to happen, yes?” Odi said, her voice soothing and quiet as he nodded in response as quick as he could.

He knew. He knew all along that Wisp was the reason for his lack of control but now, without him? It was like a constant dam ready to break, a river rising, preparing to snuff out his smoke and swallow him whole. He missed his Agar. He needed Wisp just as much as the little smoke troll did.

“It was my fault, back then. I was angry and...it doesn’t matter. Yes, Wisp knew about it, he knew about all of it, are you happy now?” he sniffs, wiping away the tears with the back of his sleeve in annoyance.

“Then there is your answer. Wisp, like all those who are partnered to Traited are able to see the truth of their grimoire. Oathed or not, he would not have stayed if he did not think you were worth staying for.”

Odi leaned away from the Mediator, allowing him some much needed space to breathe. Hack had watched the entire exchange with mild interest, enough for him to put down his book and not say a word until they were finished. Or dead. Hawkins stared up at the Scale Shrieker and gave her a rare, genuine smile of both apology and thanks. Hack breathed a sigh of relief, watching as Odi helped Hawkins to stand as after several hours they finally reconciled under equal terms.

“Well isn’t this touching?” an unknown voice interrupted from Odi’s workshop, causing even the might of a great dragon to cower away in fear.

The intruder was garbed in an eerily familiar attire, the cool forest green jacket emblazoned by silver streaks of colour which matched her long, silver hair and deadly sharp ears. She was flanked from behind by no more than three others, their uniforms a lot shabbier and in a much lighter shade than their elven leader.

“A cripple, a lizard and a recluse of a Mediator all on the same page together. Kinda brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it, boys?”

The three behind her sniggered quietly Hawkins eyeing the sigil of the Swarm with fury, hoping to set alight to the people before him with his stare alone. The silver haired elf gripped a very familiar grimoire under the crook of her arm, much like you would a squealing child but despite her steely glare and unamused sneer, the paleness of her skin indicated that Memorium had no intentions of allowing her to use such an artifact. That, was at least something they could use to their advantage.

“Now then, what kind of idiotic fool, in the dead of night decided to let loose a Shadow Trait of all things right inside our territory, hmm?"