Running Rampant
Chapter 1
"Sweet Jesus," muttered Spyro. "When did the entire dragon race decide to live in the dragon temple?"
"It's not the entire dragon race, Spyro," Cynder said. "Just every twelve-year-old human that thinks that they're good at writing, so they insert themselves into their fanfic as a dragon. Because, you know, that's completely possible and not cliché in the least." She flicked her tail disdainfully—she, Spyro, the Guardians, and the few dragons that had taken refuge in the dragon temple before the world was almost destroyed resented the very existence of the newcomers.
"The dragon temple is supposed to be a private residence, where the Guardians and a few select apprentices live. It's not a damned apartment complex, where everyone that wants to lives and goes to school for free." He idly scratched a wood shaving off of the charred floor of the training arena, where they were watching two of the newcomers spar. "At least they're entertaining."
"Agreed," snickered Cynder as she turned back to watch the sparring newcomers; two pink dragonesses, one with a white underbelly and purple horns, and one with a light yellow underbelly and white horns.
They were both disgustingly voluptuous; it was painfully apparent that they had tried their absolute best to be sexually appealing, but they had over-done it by an extraordinarily wide margin. Their syntax, diction, and grammar weren't much better than their appearance, either. Nearly all of them spoke with the language skills of a mentally challenged child—although, it was questionable if some of them actually were mentally challenged children. They also had the irritating tendency to speak in giant, run-on sentences that never seemed to end.
"I told you I love Spyro more than you do so you can't have him!" The dragoness with the white underbelly, named Bella, shrieked. She opened her mouth, where an unimaginably giant and disproportionate fireball formed. She shot it at the other dragoness, who was also named Bella.
The defending Bella jumped nearly a hundred feet into the air, without even flapping her wings, and shot an equally ridiculously large fireball at the first Bella.
"It sure would suck if they ever decided that they wanted to hurt us, instead of fighting with each other to see who can have me or you," said Spyro.
"Don't be silly," snorted Cynder, "They love us too much. As of about three weeks ago, sixty four of them have died for us for no reason at all. In fact, just last night I was about to trip, and one of the newcomers jumped in front of me and let me fall onto her. Of course, since she was a preteen and I'm practically an adult now, she was pretty flat."
Spyro groaned. "Their affection is disgusting. At least you don't get hordes of girls trying to kiss you. They're half my size, though—which, despite the fact that it's really weird, is a good thing."
"How could that possibly be a good thing?" Cynder asked, watching the two dragonesses trying to strangle each other while flying fifty feet above the training room floor.
"Because they have to jump or fly at me in order to kiss me, and since they have such exaggerated movements, I've got plenty of time to get out of the way."
"Ah," smiled Cynder.
"I'm not sure what's worse," said Flame, who had walked up behind them, "Having a harem of low-life, preteen dragonesses that look and act exactly the same, or having your girlfriend be too preoccupied with the male dragons to even notice you."
Spyro laughed. "I'd much rather Ember's romantic endeavors with me than these… uh, new dragonesses."
Flame frowned. "I just don't see how she finds those dragons attractive. They're all exactly the same, too! They all have black scales, they're quiet and reserved, they're orphans, and all but one of them served under Malefor, even though Cynder was literally the only dragon besides Malefor that was even mentioned. They must have cleaned his toilets or something."
"That would explain why they always act like they were horrifically mistreated," mused Spyro.
"I don't even recognize any of them," said Cynder thoughtfully. "They must've been way down low on the totem pole."
"I just wish that they'd realize that we don't want to be around them," Spyro muttered.
"I know, right? Why can't they just date amongst themselves?" Flame mumbled.
"But almost all of them are girls," Cynder said. "There are maybe six or seven male newcomers."
Spyro and Flame looked at each other and grinned, slapping their wings together.
"You two are disgusting," muttered Cynder, rolling her eyes.
Suddenly, Spyro stiffened as a bright pink tail slid sensually across his shoulders and wing joints, making him shiver. A blindingly bright pink dragoness had crept up behind the trio and was using the element of surprise to attempt to get close to the purple dragon of her dreams. "The guardians want to see you," she whispered in his ear in an exaggeratedly cute voice.
"That's great," muttered Spyro. "Now get the hell off of me."
"B-but… but you love me!" Whimpered the pink dragoness, her turquoise eyes watering.
"No, you think I love you. Get a boyfriend and stop chasing after me," sighed Spyro, pushing past her.
Cynder skirted around the pink dragoness and followed Spyro, but Flame walked up to her cautiously. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"
The pink dragoness sniffed. "Bella," she said sadly.
Flame sighed, rolling his eyes. "Never mind," he muttered, running past her to catch up with Spyro and Cynder.
…
"We have a problem," sighed Terrador as he sat down at his spot around the pool of visions. The other guardians, along with Spyro, Cynder, Flame, and Ember, were also gathered in a rough circle. "Malefor… has returned."
None of them batted an eye. "That's what's so important? That happens every weekend. Why should we be concerned this time?" Flame snorted.
"Because this time is different," Terrador sighed. "The sheer amount of preteen angst coming off of all of the new coming dragons and dragonesses has been absorbed by Malefor, making him stronger than ever."
"Is that like the last twenty times he's been stronger than ever?" Interrupted Spyro. "Because if so, then you're making mountains out of molehills."
"No," growled Terrador, growing impatient, "It's not. He actually is stronger than ever this time. And, he's broken the world apart." He paused for a moment, and then added, "Again."
"Great," sighed Cynder. "I hate it when he does that. Have any of the newcomers gone missing lately? He might be re-using them as servants because of their tortured, angst-y past."
"Hey, remember that time that he used you like that?" Laughed Spyro. "He made you wear a pink bow on your head because you turned against him."
Cynder blushed. "Don't remind me," she muttered.
"Focus!" Shouted Terrador, making everyone jump. "We need to figure out what to do about this. The world is breaking apart, and we only have about a week to fix it before everyone floats off into space!"
"We could take a bunch of the newcomers as scapegoats like we usually do. If we even think about being in danger, they start throwing themselves at it with reckless abandon," suggested Flame.
"Or we could just kill all of the newcomers," suggested Cynder hopefully. "I'm tired of watching stupid, arrogant dragonesses that think Spyro loves them slobber all over him."
"We could just send a bunch of the newcomers to defeat Malefor. They're so incredibly overpowered that it should be a walk in the park," said Spyro thoughtfully.
"Or we could just kill all of the newcomers," suggested Cynder again.
Ember looked annoyed. "Or, we could show some balls and beat the hell out of Malefor ourselves for once."
"Or we could just kill all of the newcomers," suggested Cynder.
"It would be quite promiscuous to simply commit genocide against all of the young dragons and dragonesses that have arrived here lately, but since they're posing a threat to the entire world, I suppose that we can look the other way," agreed Volteer.
"But, we would want to wait until after we defeat Malefor to do that," said Spyro. "The sheer amount of angst that comes off of the newcomers because their 'lover' is killing them would surely make Malefor more powerful than even we can handle."
"That's true," said Cyril. "But we still need to defeat Malefor first. I suggest freezing the center of the earth to trap him inside it, then riddling him with ice spikes."
"Or we could fry him, using the electricity of the magnetic field that surrounds the planet. It's strongest around the core, you know," said Volteer superciliously.
Ember rubbed her temples. "We could also do it the old-fashioned way."
Flame blinked. "What's the old-fashioned way?"
Ember rolled her eyes. "We kick his ass in person. Spyro and Cynder did it and were only weak for a few days. With four of us and a small army of newcomers, it shouldn't be a problem."
"Sounds good to me," said Spyro.
"All in favor of kicking Malefor's ass in person say 'I'," said Terrador.
"I," said Spyro, Cynder, Flame, and Ember in unison.
"It's settled, then. You four will travel to the center of the earth with some of the newcomers, and hopefully kill Malefor for good this time," said Terrador. "Go to your rooms and gather your things. You'll leave first thing in the morning."