"There are many sides to every story," Boto said, "But not every side is truthful, and many sides are flawed. However, in each tale and exaggeration . . ." he pulled out a small stone from his pouch, "there lies a grain of truth." He crushed the pebble, ignoring the others' shock as it crumbled to dust. "As we pored through these tomes - some ancient beyond belief, and others whose ink has barely dried, I began to realize how little dragons know about the dragon we now call, the Darkstalker." He gestured to Doom, feeding her the first few lines as she organized her thoughts. Two thousand years ago, in a kingdom lost to time . . .

"Two thousand years ago, in a kingdom lost to time, a dragon was born with the power of the stars in his claws and a family unlike any other." She closed her eyes, and for a moment the ground shook faintly. "His mother was a common-born Nightwing, and his father . . . the last Icewing animus." Changbai looked mildly ill. "From the day of his hatching he and his father never saw eye to eye, and that culminated in his father, Prince Arctic's, death. It was the sort of death only an animus could cause . . ."

Moons! Boto had forgotten - if only for a moment - that she was an animus. It couldn't be easy for her to talk so openly about its dark side. He stepped up, quickly brushing his wing against her's and took over the speech. "But before we speak of his demise, let's remember the dragon he was before his father pushed him too far. He was - as all the reliable records confirm - smart, and funny, and charming. A dragon any of us would have been glad to know . . ."

Boto continued the tale, introducing Fathom, the Seawing Prince - and animus - that had befriended Darkstalker, and Clearsight, the dragoness he had been meant to love. They tossed the story back and forth, Boto silently feeding Doom lines whenever she stumbled - which was rarely - until they came to the very end of their tale.

Doomsayer was the one to finish. "And with an item from their past, enchanted by their mutual friend Fathom, Clearsight tricked Darkstalker into falling into an eternal sleep. He was buried by stone and earth, but some say . . ." she paused, "some say he is still alive, waiting for the right time to rise." As if to emphasize her statement the earth seemed to shake slightly.

Boto glanced over to her. Well done, he thought.  Then he turned back to the audience, "For our final part I have a few items I would like to show you . . ." He pulled out a long thin scroll, cracked with age, and Doomsayer's eyes widened, the only bit of shock she would let show. Smiling to himself he set it down gently on the ground before him. With another flourish he procured the small mahogany box from some hidden spot. It was a trick he'd learned in the desert, though he'd never tell anyone that.

With everything neatly settled he picked the scroll back up, brandishing it like a knife, "I think the class will find this a bit amusing." He smiled mysteriously, "and perhaps the more historically inclined will actually find it interesting." He gently unrolled the scroll, careful of the jagged edges and singed corner. Once it was unrolled he yelled, "Bore me to sleep!" The other dragonets looked at him like he was insane.

Then they heard the voice, unusually like Webs' but different enough to be noticeable. "Ancient wars of Pyrrhia. Introduction. Every dragon knows the history of the Scorching and the tribal shifts and alignments that followed, but few may realize that five hundred years later . . ." The scroll was reading itself.

Boto grinned at their awestruck expressions, even as Webs asked, eyes wide and somewhat pleading, "Boto . . . would it be possible for me to borrow this scroll?" His gills pulsed with excitement, and the Rainwing pushed back his initial refusal, letting Webs speak. "If what I hear is true then this could be of massive historical significance, explaining the history of an era I'd thought was lost to time. If I was possible to make copies . . . The world would thank you!"

Boto hesitated, glancing at Doomsayer, who nodded slightly. Still he was reluctant to let it go. Though few dragons knew it, he loved history, and this scroll had been a life saver when he was learning to read. He had memorized it and cherished it since the day he found it buried in a small stone grotto at the edge of the kingdom of Sand. "Yes, you may borrow it. However, as it is so irreplaceable, I would like it back by the end of the month in perfect condition, whether copies of it are completed or not." The Seawing nodded immediately.

With that settled he turned back to the class, almost done. "As you have probably guessed, that scroll was - to the best of my knowledge - enchanted by Darkstalker." Without a backwards glance at the scroll he muttered "Spare me," to the immediate disappointment of Webs. "The following item is, however, even more important to his story."

He gingerly opened the mahogany box, lifting the lid off and angling the opening slightly forwards so they could see what was inside. A single moonstone earring, cracked through the center and set in green copper, rested on thick black velvet. "The spell on this earring is what led to the downfall of Pyrrhia's mightiest dragons."

This time it was Doomsayer who asked, "That's . . ."

He nodded. "This is one of the earrings Darkstalker gave to Clearsight."

Everyone felt the tremor that followed.

A/N:

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I'm sosososo sorry I haven't updated in forever . . . D: Please forgive me? I had camp, and then swim team, and then . . . yeah I just got lazy/ Sorry. I'll try to update more often. Hope you like this addition to the story.

~ GingerFlame