As the sun vanished just below the horizon, dragons began gradually drifting off to sleep, curled up in their dens with their mates or hatchlings, ready for the sky to darken completely so their active minds could finally rest. Unlike her clanmates, Nightweaver felt the sun’s absence and immediately her eyes flashed open. Though she had lost her sight in birth, she was familiar with her surrounding. She rose fluidly to her feet and stretched her long, muscular form before crawling out of the rock crevice she slept in and breathing in the cool night air. The female Mirror had slept in her pitch-black hole from the moment first light touched the sky, and now that the sun had gone to bed, she was ready to leave hers.

Nightweaver had been nocturnal from the day she was born, although neither her siblings nor her parents had been. Her nocturnal tendencies were not the only oddity she had born with either. It appeared Nightweaver had been born with some rare genetic mutation that had given her the ability to produce a sticky web-like substance from her hind feet, as if a substitute from the heavens after taking away her sight. The webbing she produced was much more viscous than that of a spider’s however, and it could not stretch nearly as far, as she couldn’t produce it in a single strand like an arachnid. Instead, the sticky substance flowed out from the pads of her feet in sheets, which she could overlay with one another to create an inescapable trap.

Growing up, her unusual ability and blindness had made other dragons extremely wary of her. Some thought she had a horrible disease that might be contagious, so they avoided being near her altogether. Others presumed she had done something horrible in her past and that the disgusting material she produced was some sort of curse placed on her by the innocent being she had wronged. Although none of these theories were true, Nightweaver couldn’t help but feel excluded and ostracized by her birth clan, and so she had left once she was old enough and found a clan that wouldn’t treat her like the plague: Xayxayx clan.

Here her unique ability was seen as more of a skill rather than a curse, and she was encouraged to explore the limits of her talent and embrace it as a gift. Nightweaver flourished under the support of her clan members and soon came to learn that she could use her webbing as a hunting technique to catch bats, birds, insects, and many other creatures that lived exclusively in the night as she did, even if she could not see. Nightweaver had come to accept her ability as part of who she was, and had come to relish the idea that she could help provide for her clan in a way no one else could.

After living with the clan for quite some time, however, a single idea began nagging at the back of her mind and wouldn’t seem to go away. Although Nightweaver had become close with the clan’s members, she wanted to live where darkness was celebrated and embraced and where she could feel part of an entire clan, and not just a small piece of it. Eventually, after much thought and deliberation, Nightweaver made the decision to leave Xayxayx clan in the Gladekeeper’s Realm and travel to the land of the Shadowbinder, where she hoped to find a clan that she might call home for the rest of her days. Though she could not see, she followed her other senses, and based off snippets of conversations she’d eavesdropped on, she found her way to the shadow territory.

The Tangled Wood did not disappoint. A land filled with dragons that celebrated the darkness and the shadows—it was perfect, even if she could not see it. The longer she stayed in the Shadowbinder’s realm, the more Nightweaver felt that this was where she was meant to be all along. A natural introvert, the Mirror was hesitant to introduce herself to many clans at first, and so she spent most nights on her own, weaving her deadly webs and then lying in wait, camouflaged by the night itself until unsuspecting prey found itself ensnared in her trap.

Nightweaver had just snatched a plump bat from her web and woven new webbing to patch the hole, when she heard dragon voices approaching. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she announce herself? Was she encroaching on a clan’s territory and about to get reprimanded for it? Nightweaver was still learning the customs of this region and did not want to offend the dragons, so she decided to freeze where she was, hoping she was camouflaged by the night. Luckily her web was high enough off the ground that the dragons would pass under it safely.

The voices were close enough now that Nightweaver could tell they were a pair, and from the pitch, a male and female dragon. Both dragons spoke quietly and softly to one another, and there were long pauses in their conversation as if they had known each other long enough to walk together in a comfortable silence. Nightweaver couldn’t help thinking that they sounded nice, but she was entirely too anxious to reveal her presence to them. She also didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to her web-weaving abilities, since she knew that some dragons did not react well to it.

Finally, the dragons‘ voice’s became close enough that Nightweaver could tell they were right beneath her and Nightweaver held her breath, hoping they were too lost in their conversation to notice her hiding above them. Nightweaver heard them stop, and then one of them sniffed the air. Nightweaver could feel her heart skip a beat and then begin pounding furiously. Had he seen her? Could he see her web?

Nightweaver realized the answers to those questions were yes and yes, as, a moment later, the male called out to her. Hesitantly, Nightweaver left her apparently-not-so-great hiding spot and dove gracefully to the ground. She quickly explained who she was and what she was doing, how she was blind, in hopes that she could avoid any misunderstandings, but it was clear almost immediately that neither dragon, Who were both apparently Skydancers, was here to reprimand or chase her off. The male, who introduced himself as Rhysand, explained that he and his mate Feyre had noticed several of her webs on their recent nightly patrols, and were extremely curious as to their origin. Nightweaver hesitated, reluctant to reveal her secret so soon, but she could sense that these dragons had been truthful and genuine. She had a feeling that they would not reject her if she likewise revealed the truth to them. So, Nightweaver told the pair her story—from the origins of her power up until the moment she had heard them approach.

The pair listened intently, seeming intrigued by her tale. When Nightweaver had finished talking, she wished she could see their faces, wishing she could search for any negative reaction or sudden change in emotion. But the dragons didn’t say anything negative. Instead the pair asked to see her webbing firsthand, and expressed their admiration for her unique trait. Without hesitation, they asked her to come back with them to meet the rest of their clan and told her that she was welcome to stay with them for as long as she liked, and could even join the clan permanently if she so desired. The trio talked through most of the night, sharing stories of their nightly adventures and quickly becoming well acquainted. The longer they spoke, the more Nightweaver had a sneaking suspicion that this could be the clan she had been searching for, the clan that she could call her true home…

As the first rays of the sun began to lighten the sky, Nightweaver returned with Rhysand and Feyre to the Maasassin’s Guild.

And has never left since.