Two Beginnings

Hello, old and new reader's alike.

If you have previously read Rising or Risen, I am sorry to say that those have become merely a sort of introduction to what I hope will develop into a strong final product that exhibits what little I can do.

This story will have two very different perspectives. The time period where Rising and Risen occur, and thirty-five years prior, just after Malefor's fall. Both perspectives will not always be used in the same chapter, but often they will. I have and will clearly note when these switches occur.

Alright, please enjoy the first chapter of TLoS: Shift.

Any and all reviews appreciated.

How long had it been?

For how long had they lain here, strewn across the ground from fatigue and disbelief? He wasn't sure, but he knew it was over. In one burst of energy the world had been pulled together. Sure a few pieces were still drifting slowly back into place, but it was intact.

The way Spyro lay did not afford him a view of Cynder, but he could hear her breathing a few feet behind him. They had spoken little since their escape, and both had give themselves over to rest upon their landing, or was it falling? He couldn't really remember.

However, he had been thinking, and his thoughts were mainly aimed toward Ignitus and Cynder. Before facing Malefor, he had come to terms with Ignitus' death. It had happened for a reason, and if he were to give up on life because of it, then what was the point of Ignitus' sacrifice in the first place? Now he simply wondered how he would survive without him…the one who brought him into the world in which he now lived. The world of his origin.

Then there was the matter of Cynder…. Her words had made his heart flutter and, had it not been for the circumstances, he would gladly have reciprocated them to her. But after thinking for a time, he realized that they could easily have been rash and meaningless. Plus, at their age they had a long way to go, or so he inferred, until truly loving a mate would arise and he was sure that Cynder would have many other suitors. Her personality may be a bit odd at times, but her looks, used to her advantage, could get her anywhere. However, should the topic arise, it couldn't hurt to take a chance, could it?

From behind him, Cynder said, "Sp-Spyro…are you alright?"

Spyro turned to her, a slight breeze brushing across his face, and was glad to see a smile upon her face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, "I've been…thinking."

Cynder shifted her body, lying with her paws on the ground. "Oh, so have I…what were you thinking about?" Cynder replied.

"Mostly about Ignitus. I realize that there was nothing I could or can do about it, but it happened…." Spyro stood and looked toward the sky, watching countless clouds roll by. "It happened because it was for the better."

"Spyro, do you think you are strong enough to reach the temple, or even Warfang?" Cynder asked. She, too, rose to her feet and walked up beside him.

"I think so. Are you?"

"Of course, it's you I'm worried about. It couldn't have been easy to pull everything back together."

"About that, after thinking for a while I realized something…I don't think I really 'pulled' everything back into place. I think I just…reversed what had already happened." Spyro said, he let his head fall to the ground and caught sight of Cynder from the corner of his eye. She was mouthing a set of words over and over, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. "We should try to reconnect with everyone. Warfang is closer, let's go there first."

[}[]{]

Spyro chose a small field outside the city to return to, not wanting to suddenly appear in front of someone within. He plan had ultimately succeeded; Ignitus had survived his excursion into the belt of fire, and would hopefully have an effect on the remainder of Spyro's growing up.

Wait, wouldn't it be his growing up?

Wouldn't it…have an effect on him?

He dismissed the thought for the moment, and slowly walked through the image, and into the field. The stagnant air of the cave faded; he felt a slight breeze begin to blow across his body as he once again became part of his own time.

Spyro took a few steps forward, shaking out his legs to assure himself they still worked. He was reared back, preparing for flight, when he was overcome by a distant, but familiar fatigue. He fell over. A blackness dominated his mind briefly before it was replaced by a faint blue light.

His vision was blurred, but before it had begun clearing he already knew a few things bout his surroundings. He was standing up, and was not off-balance despite his blurry vision. There were several small light sources spread around, and a larger one in what he thought to be the center of the room. And one other was in the room, breathing deep, quick breaths.

He blinked his eyes a few times, clearing them of their blurred state. Before him stood the chronicler, one who, while expected when he had suddenly fell into blackness, he hadn't seen since the day when he was freed from his crystal prison. Only…this wasn't the benevolent welcome he had received in the past.

Then the chronicler spoke, "Spyro, do you have any idea what you have done? Your selfish act of heroism has done more harm to the dragon race than Malefor ever did!"