Falling…

"Yo, what's happening, cadets? First-years, right? Yeah, yep, yep, yep, just like me four years ago. Well, not exactly like me. There's only one Spyro."

A small, scaly form plummeted through the endless cloudscape of the Skylands, unconscious, tumbling erratically...

"Wait a second. Was Eruptor right? Is evil an actual thing that has to go somewhere if it isn't being acted upon?"

The young dragon fell through a belt of storm clouds. Icy rainwater drenched him, jolting him partly awake. He groaned, thrashing, only to get pummeled by loose stones and clumps of dirt, choking dust, and freezing mud. There were islands nearby, but they seemed to be falling apart before his eyes, disintegrating into the churning storm.

"Yeah, I like this! I like this a lot. I've gotta say, I am really digging the new me."

Leathery wings instinctively tried to slow his fall, but the howling winds pinned them back, making him howl in pain. A blast of lightning struck, searing his mud-caked scales.

"Listen, Elf, I can explain! I've changed!"

The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious again was a vast, dark maelstrom, swiftly rising to meet him…

Voices reached the young dragon, fading in and out. He groaned, starting to sit up, and immediately regretted it. "Ugh, I think I sprained my... everything."

Footsteps padded closer. "Captain, sir! We caught something! I think it's still alive..." Furry hands rolled him over ungently, and he flopped onto his back, laying on… a pile of soaking wet junk? The Mabu leaning over him, dressed in some kind of scruffy naval uniform, jumped back, stumbling in his haste to get away. "Jeez, it's a dragon!"

Heavier booted footsteps clomped towards him. "Oh, it's you again," said Captain Flynn, sounding less than pleased to see him. "Well, isn't this a rare catch?"

Before the first Mabu could venture an opinion, the dragon rolled and rose on his four paws, shaking out his wings and tail. There were probably some deep bruises beneath his armored hide, and he cringed and groaned at how filthy he was, but at least everything seemed to be in working order. "Rare? You know, I guess you could say that. After all, I am the one and only Spyro!" His surroundings finally registered. "What the… Oh, come on! Not another boat!"

For a moment, Spyro felt a genuine dread that Captain Flynn was about to haul him off on another adventure, or start telling another ridiculous story, or… doing anything Captain Flynn-related, really. Surely, no one would mind if Spyro set him on fire and pushed him overboard. Thankfully, this was a different airship, larger than Flynn's usual boat yet more cramped at the same time. The deck was so crammed full of sorted and unsorted piles of junk, the whole thing looked like an air-going salvage yard.

Flynn frowned. "This 'boat' as you call it, is the fine vessel that fished you…" He pointed, then jerked a thumb towards the railing. "Out of that."

Spyro reared up and grasped the railing with both forepaws, not quite trusting himself to fly just yet, and peered over the edge. "Whoa…" The vast, dark maelstrom below was more than impressive… it filled the sky from horizon to horizon. "Huh, I always thought it'd be smaller. You know, like those creatures they always doodle in the corners of treasure maps? Yarr, here be a giant squid! Eternal storm clouds be over there, Great Flying Beard Monster off in the corner…"

"We do not speak of the Great Flying Beard Monster so loudly!" hissed Flynn. He coughed into a fist. "I suppose you're dying to know why I'm here, and not doing my usual feats of derring-do."

"Not really," deadpanned Spyro.

Captain Flynn struck a dramatic pose. "My last grand and glorious engagement really did a number on my vessel… plus the old coot forgot to pay me before he went off to his next great adventure. Even heroes of the Skyways of the Skylands have to make ends meet, so lucky for you, my small scaly… friend, here I am! But enough chit-chat. Let's talk business… sorry, what was your name again?"

The dragon nearly face-planted in surprise. "Spyro."

Two of the Mabu crewmen nearby glanced at each other. "Who?"

Spyro blinked slowly. "Seriously? Spyro the Dragon, the most amazing and heroic member of the Skylanders? That Spyro? Come on, you must have heard something about me!"

"Oh!" a third Mabu crewman exclaimed. "There was that article in the paper last week, remember?" He jogged away, then returned with a folded newspaper. It had "TEAM SPYRO" in big bold type over a photograph of himself… his evil self, in all his black and silver glory, annoying Jet-Vac by mugging for the camera.

"...we still have the element of surprise. So let's use it! I can go out there right now and take the Skylanders down, one... by... one."

Spyro cringed. "Oh, right… that's not me! I mean, technically that's me… It was me and now it's not? I was kind of going through a phase."

More of the crew were gathering around, drawn by the commotion. "Oh, is that what they call it these days?" grumbled one of them, folding his arms. "Yeah, I know you, 'Spyro the Dragon!' I bet half my paycheck on you guys!" He grabbed the newspaper and shook it open, revealing the full headline: "TEAM SPYRO LOSES SKY RACE TO KAOS, HUMILIATING DEFEAT!"

Spyro's jaw went slack. "Wait, what? We lost the race?!" He blinked. "Oh…" Spyro turned away from the crowd, muttering under his breath. "With the whole being exposed as a mole for Strykore and almost killing my friend thing, I guess I forgot all about that… Whoopsie!" He felt a stabbing headache coming on. Not surprising, considering the day he was having, but it still made him growl faintly, grinding his fangs. Maybe he'd been injured worse than he thought.

"Tough luck, kid," said Flynn. "Tough luck, mechanical difficulties, and crew infighting which were in no way, shape, or fashion my fault, for the record. But... seeing as how you're such a famous Skylander, if not the winningest one, I'm certain that your friends will be… happy to generously reward us for your safe return." He grinned sharply. "After all, though it may be a strictly temporary measure to pay the bills, salvage is our business here, Spyro! Finding and retrieving the lost things that slipped through the cracks and delivering them to those that will appreciate them, for the right price of course."

Spyro's headache was getting worse. Flynn's words didn't register at first, but when they did… "Wait, wait wait… hold on." He scowled at Flynn, crimson eyes narrowing. "Did you just call ME salvage?"

Flynn hesitated. "Did I say that? What I meant to say was… rescue! We're here to rescue you..."

Spyro snarled and lashed his tail, sending Flynn scrambling back. "Rescue? That's funny, cause it sounded like you were calling me a lost piece of garbage that slipped through the cracks!" He stalked towards the big Mabu, claws gouging the wooden deck. "Is that what you think I am? Just a chance to make a quick buck off trash that somebody threw away?!"

Out of the blue, something exploded, causing the whole ship to shudder and list to one side. Sparks flew, setting piles of salvage ablaze. A skiff veered away from an explosion and spun out of control, slamming into the bridge and tilting the deck sharply the opposite way.

Spyro blinked, startled out of his rage. "Um, what just happened?" Flynn was shouting orders. Mabu crewmen were scrambling every which way trying to smother sparks and put fires out, trying to put each other out. The air reeked of burning oil and fur. Someone had almost been tossed out of the boat entirely, and he was clinging to the railing now with others struggling to pull him back up.

Spyro scratched the back of his scaly neck awkwardly. "Okay, so… Maybe it's not my place to criticize, but did you guys skip a few safety inspections? Because it sure looks like you had some kind of major fire hazard on board. Air safety is super important, that's what J.V. always says! Don't worry though, I'm on the case!" He spread his wings, ready to spring into action.

Flynn whirled to face him, looking more alarmed for some reason, not less. "N-no! … No, just leave. You've done enough."

Spyro gaped at him. Another explosion went off, somewhere. "Um, but I didn't do anything, yet. Look, I'm sorry I kinda lost my temper for a moment there, but seriously guys, I'm a Skylander. Let me help!"

"Help…" Flynn glanced around, and his face lit up. "You can help… by fetching us an air rescue squad!" He threw open the door to a side cabin, then beckoned Spyro inside, quickly powering up a high-tech metal platform with an attached console. "Here, use our emergency teleport pad! Send rescue to coordinates 35994 by 681! Hurry! We're counting on you, Spyro!"

Spyro dashed into the cabin and hopped onto the platform. "If you're sure that's what you want… Then you can count on me!"

Flynn stabbed a series of glowing buttons and bought his fist down on the send button.

The chaos of the burning boat vanished in a pulse of light, and Spyro was immensely relieved to find himself back on solid and familiar ground, stepping off a teleport pad into the public receiving station of the Skylanders Academy campus.

Relieved… and confused. "35994 by 681," he muttered to himself. "35994 by… hold on, that's not enough numbers." He backtracked, rearing up to check the teleport console. "If I didn't know better, I'd think…" The console buzzed and flashed red, indicated that the last sender was no longer connected to the teleport network. "... Captain Flynn didn't want my help at all."

Spyro's face fell, and then he fumed, shaking a clawed fist. "Fine, be that way! You're on your own, pal!"

He turned to go, and a Mabu shoved past him, heading straight for the console. "One side, coming through!" The Mabu looked over his shoulder and shouted, "You're not leaving me, Claire! I'm the one who's leaving!"

A female Mabu wearing a pink hair ribbon shouted back, "Not if I leave first, Gary! And stay away from that dragon, you don't know where it's been!"

"I'll show you 'staying away!'"

Spyro stalked out of the station, shaking his head… right past Ka-Boom, standing guard as he often did.

The musclebound red giant grinned broadly, seeing him. "Spyro! You look like you've been in a fight! I trust you pummeled them worse than they pummeled you, ja?"

Spyro cringed slightly, trying to think of something less embarrassing than admitting he'd run into several tons of flying dirt and rocks face first. "Oh, um… Yes! Yes, there was definitely pummeling involved. Oh, look at the time, gotta run!" He waved his claws, then scampered around a corner. "Whew! Could this day get any more..."

"Spyro?"

Spyro froze. "It couldn't be," he whispered to himself. He turned hesitantly… and there she was. "Cynder!?" Sleek purple scales, silver horns and claws, spiked collar and anklets... Spyro still sort of regretted that he'd never found an excuse to take up wearing spikes himself.

Cynder romped towards him with a huge grin on her muzzle, spreading her wings to skid to a stop. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon! When did you get back?"

For his part, Spyro was practically trotting in place with excitement. "When did I get back? When did you…" He chuckled. "You know, never mind that now. It is so, so good to see you again!"

The two young dragons rushed towards each other, ready to bump noses and do a mid-air dance, but at the last second Spyro remembered that he was still covered in muck from the Maelstrom. Cynder seemed to realize it at the same time, drawing back sheepishly.

Spyro cleared his throat. "Tell you what, Cynder… I'll go get cleaned up, and then let's get together someplace." He shook out his wings, then flapped hard. It took some extra effort to get off the ground, but he wouldn't have to fly far. "Really soon, I promise!"

Cynder grinned, watching. "At least tell me one thing. Did you find what you were looking for out there?"

Spyro hovered there in a daze, just watching her warm smile, before he realized he was staring and shook himself out of it. "You know… I think I did, actually!" He winked, then pumped his wings for some extra altitude and glided towards home.

The Academy dorm was right where Spyro had left it, on a small island floating a short ways from the main campus. Not that it was likely to have gone anywhere, but he didn't feel like taking anything for granted just now.

Spyro flew in low and fast, and immediately flattened himself against the exterior wall. He glanced left and right, peeked around a corner to make sure the coast was clear, then sprang up and pried an unlocked window open a crack. The bathroom inside was empty, door closed, so he squeezed through the window and dropped to the tiles in a stealthy alert crouch.

Then the young dragon blinked. "Wait, why am I sneaking around? Huh, I guess I got so used to sneaking around while I was evil, I kinda got in the habit."

"... has there… anything?"

Spyro sat up straight, hearing the muffled voice coming through the door, probably from the living room down the hall. It sounded like Stealth Elf. Curious, Spyro pressed his head to the bathroom door, listening.

"Still no word, I'm afraid." That voice was Jet Vac's. "I still can't imagine what those two were thinking, rushing off to find Spyro's family all by themselves."

"Wait, what?" said Spyro, reeling. He eased the door open just a bit so he could hear better.

"And we'd only just started getting to know the real Spyro again."

"Brr! I know, right?" said Pop Fizz.

There was a slam of rock pounding rock. "When I think about Spyro… our Spyro," snarled Eruptor, "trapped all alone inside that evil monster who only looked like our friend! Helpless to do anything but listen while that phony told us lie after lie after lie!"

"You shouldn't blame yourself," said Stealth Elf, in tones of pained sorrow. "The evil Spyro had all of us fooled."

Spyro recoiled from the door. "Huh, what are they talking about? I don't remember it being like that. I always felt like myself… even when I wasn't, you know, myself…"

"Yeah!" said the voice of Pop Fizz. "Funny how you never noticed, even when you were doing that whole mind meld thing."

"My word!" gasped Jet-Vac. "You're right! We were in Master Eon's brain together, and I never suspected a thing. You don't suppose he did something to my mind to make me evil as well, do you? Quickly, have I sprouted any black feathers? Any sign of a goatee?"

Spyro smirked, rolling his eyes. "The way I remember it, I could have blasted the puzzle box open instead of saving you guys. You're welcome."

"The sooner Spyro and Master Eon return from their journey, the better," declared Jet-Vac.

Spyro kept smiling and nodding along… until that last bit sank in. "What!?" he shouted. Then he blinked, feeling a familiar tingle in the air. "Uh oh."

Stealth Elf teleported into the bathroom, knives in her hands. "Who's there?!" She spun around, frowning at the apparently empty room, checked inside the laundry basket, then suddenly popped across the room to look behind the shower curtain. "Huh, I could have sworn I heard Spyro… but that's impossible." She shrugged and teleported out again.

Spyro burst out of the cabinet beneath the sink, gasping for air. "What the heck is going on?" he whispered. "Did I really leave with Master Eon and bang my head so hard that I forgot?" He reached for the doorknob. "I'm getting to the bottom of this right now!" Just as he was about to open the door, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. "Wait, no… silly dragon, you can't go out there looking like that!" He chuckled. "They'd take one look and think I'd turned evil all over again! No more stalling..."

Spyro pulled the shower curtain aside and turned the hot water on full blast… even near-boiling water couldn't hurt him, thanks to his dragon scales. He grabbed a brush and the soap and got to scrubbing, humming a cheerful syncopated tune that always reminded him of stone hills and shiny gemstones. Muddy water started running past his claws and into the drain.

"Whew!" He stretched out his limbs, enjoying the hot soak. "This is going to feel so much… better?"

That... wasn't right. He'd just scrubbed his right forelimb clean, and it was still black. "Huh… That dirt must really be stuck on there good."

Spyro scrubbed harder, scraping with his claws. Still black. "No…" He scraped the brush over his armored chest, looking down. Not bright coppery bronze. Glossy dull silver. "No, no no!"

He plunged face-first into the hot water again, shaking his head and nearly gouging the tiles with his horns… his silver horns. "This… this isn't possible!" He came to a sudden resolution. "I'll burn it off!" He sucked in a deep breath and engulfed himself in bright purple flames... which didn't harm him in the slightest, though it did flash-dry him and melt the shower curtain, giving him a clear view of the dragon in the mirror… covered in silver plating and black scales from head to tail.

Spyro trembled, and it was steaming hot in the bathroom now, not cold. "This is a joke, right? I can't still be evil! I'd remember!"

His eyes grew wide.

"Well well well… It's nice to finally meet my weakness in the flesh."

"They captured me... made me drink some kind of potion..." Spyro stumbled, groaning. "The potion was supposed to cure me of being evil, but instead it created… another me?!"

"It's time to end this once and for all!"

"We fought! We fought and…"

Falling…

"I… I lost?!"

Spyro snarled and lashed his tail, sending Flynn scrambling back. "Rescue? That's funny, cause it sounded like you were calling me a lost piece of garbage that slipped through the cracks!"

"No," breathed Spyro...

He stalked towards the big Mabu, claws gouging the wooden deck. "Is that what you think I am? Just a chance to make a quick buck off trash that somebody threw away?!"

"Please," Spyro begged. "Please tell me I didn't…"

Spyro's cheeks bulged, and he spat a blazing purple fireball. It hit the deck and exploded, causing the whole ship to shudder and list to one side...

"NO!" Spyro clutched his head in his paws, feeling like the walls were closing in, like he was gasping and gasping but couldn't breathe! He had to get out… away… anywhere but here! Spyro roared and lunged towards the bathroom window...

The explosion shook the whole dorm. Stealth Elf teleported into the bathroom again, only to find it empty, with a wall reduced to rubble, towels burning with eerie purple flames, and glowing purple embers dancing in the breeze from outside. Jet Vac burst through the door seconds later, aghast. "What on earth happened here?"

Elf turned to face him, slowly sheathing her knives. "Get everyone together, Jet Vac. Kaossandra too. We have to tell them… that the evil Spyro is back."

The island was the picture of tranquility. A little patch of vibrant green in the vast blue sky, just big enough for a couple of trees, some rocks, and a stray swarm of dragonflies. Skylander Academy and all its troubles were just a smudge on the horizon.

At least, the island was tranquil until thunder suddenly crackled, and a bolt of purple lightning blasted a moss-covered boulder to bits.

Spyro slumped, flanks heaving and stray bolts of lightning still arcing between his horns. "It's… not… fair!" He screamed with wordless fury and blasted more boulders, one after another. Flying gravel bounced harmlessly off his impenetrable black scales. "I was going to have my home back, my friends back! Strykore turned me evil, but I fought it off! At least, I thought I did! How could this have happened?!"

He started lashing his tail as he paced, not that the island had a lot of room to pace in. "Ugh... what did that potion do to me? What am I, even?!" He cringed now, remembering the things he'd said to his friends, after Strykore had 'tightened his grip,' after he and the other Spyro had… split? "Did the potion suck all my light out again, just to give it to that clone of me, that fake?!"

He launched himself into the sky, shaking a clawed fist at a big puffy cloud that could have been a cheerfully beard-obsessed wizard, with a little imagination. "Why don't you tell me, Eon?! Heck, I'd even take some answers from Strykore about now!" He paused, tapping a foot in midair impatiently. "Well? Come on, Stryks! You were popping in and doing the flaming head thing all the time when I was trying to stay undercover, and now you've got nothing to say? Answer me, you good-for-nothing beardless has-been!"

"I don't think he can anymore, Spyro."

Spyro yelped and fired another lightning blast in a blind panic. It passed harmlessly through a cloud of black mist… which quickly reformed into a familiar purple dragoness.

"Cynder!?" Spyro dropped and landed awkwardly, stunned by what he'd almost done. "Cynder, I am so sorry! I didn't mean… Wait, why are you here? How did you even find me?"

Cynder gave him a small smile... not what he'd been expecting at all. "I tried to locate you with my psychic ability, and I sensed you in two different places at once… one far away, and the other here. So I knew something was up." She slowly padded closer, until she stood almost nose to nose with him.

Spyro found himself shying back away from her, glancing at nearby clouds, spreading his wings so he could get airborne in a hurry. If Cynder was the distraction so the rest of his "friends" could capture him again, this would be the time, right?

Cynder backed off and shook her head, seeming to understand. "It's okay, Spyro! I haven't told the others!" She gave him that odd look again, more curious than afraid or repulsed. "It really is you, isn't it? I never saw you like this before today, but the others told me all about what Strykore did. It sounded so awful that I didn't quite believe it at first, but… it really happened, didn't it? You're the other Spyro, the one that nobody could find any trace of after you and Spyro fought."

Spyro raised a paw, palm towards her snout. "Whoa, hold on... lemme just stop you right there. That purple dragon who looks kinda like me, but far less roguishly handsome? He isn't Spyro! I am! I remember everything now… including the things I'd rather forget." He sighed. "Especially the things I'd rather forget! So don't talk about the clone or fake or whatever popped out of that potion bottle like he's the real me!"

Cynder opened her mouth, hesitated, then looked away uncomfortably. "I hate to tell you this… but the other Spyro seemed a lot like the real Spyro too. He came to rescue me from my father, him and the other Skylanders. I even fought beside him when we followed Kaos to the Isle of Arkus and defended the Core of Light."

Spyro winced. "Great. Yep, that's just peachy… Obviously, you don't need me around, screwing anything else up, so why don't you just go away and leave me alone? I don't want to fight you, Cynder!"

"Good, because I don't want to fight you either," said Cynder firmly. "I want to help."

Spyro did a double-take. "Help… me?! What, do you have some amazing dragon power to make the whole last year of my life not have happened? Cause, that would be really awesome right about now."

She glared at him. "I'm talking about covering for you, Spyro! I can help you find someplace to hide, smooth things over… just until things calm down, and I can convince the others to give you another chance."

Spyro's jaw dropped. "Um, do you not know what I've been up to lately? I haven't exactly… ahem, made the best first impression. Why would you even want to help me? I mean, you're a Skylander, and I'm pure evil!" He sprang dramatically, sweeping his claws and cloaking himself with his wings. "Born of darkness! Clad in blackest night! Tremble before my burning red gaze… wait, no… my eyes were always this color. Heh, you could even say they're my best feature… but still! Pure evil, baby!"

Spyro folded his wings and started to saunter away with a cool edgy stride, only to be brought up short when Cynder flew over his head and landed right in front of him again.

"Are you evil?" Cynder demanded, looking him right in the eyes. "Do you want to be evil?"

Spyro blinked. "Um…"

"So what's your evil plan?" said Cynder, smirking. "You do have a plan, right? Are you going to break Strykore out of his interdimensional prison again?"

Spyro's eyes grew wide. "Styrkore's back in his prison? Seriously? Hah, yes!" He pumped a fist. "Good riddance! I'm only sorry I didn't get to take revenge on him myself!"

Cynder scratched her chin with a claw. "So maybe you're in the market for a less demanding evil boss, like Kaos! I'm sure he could always use one more evil lackey."

Spyro gave her a deadpan stare. "You're kidding, right? I hate that guy."

"I see!" exclaimed Cynder, steepling her foreclaws in an evil mastermind sort of way. "You want to be your own evil boss! You have a golden opportunity to fill the current power vacuum, you know. Seize Kaossandra's castle for yourself. Break the Doom Raiders out of prison and make them take your orders. Smash the Core of Light, rule the Skylands with an iron claw, crush the pathetic Skylanders who used to be your friends one by one…"

"Stop it!" bellowed Spyro, crimson eyes smoldering and dark flames blazing up from his horns. "I don't want to do ANY of that! Of course I don't want to be evil, but… well, look at me! What choice do I have?!"

Spyro took deep gasping breaths, just trying to get a grip, and then he sighed and snuffed the flames out with an effort of will. The young dragon padded away from a stunned Cynder, and sprawled on the very edge of the island, looking out towards Skylanders Academy in the distance. "My friends already have the Spyro they want," he said, slowly and bitterly. "Not screwed up in the head, not corrupted by darkness… a perfect fake with all my memories, so they can pretend like I never went bad. He gets my life, my friends, my hero rep... and all I get is the blame."

Spyro rolled over, looking towards Cynder again. "You know, I'm starting to think Strykore didn't turn me evil at all. He just sucked out my light and showed everyone what was underneath. All those lies I told, all the friends I betrayed…" He shook his head sadly. "That's not going away, no matter what color my scales are. I… I deserve to be an outcast. Why even fight it?" He turned away again, resting his head on his outstretched forelimbs.

Cynder padded closer, joining him on the ledge. "Spyro… good and bad... aren't black and white. Just because you were born bad, doesn't make you evil. I believe that, because I met you! Every choice you make, you have the power to choose to be good." She rested her forepaw on his. "Do you remember who taught me those words?"

Spyro was quiet for a long time. "... I did. At least, the Spyro that I used to be did…"

"The Spyro that you still can be!" insisted Cynder.

"If I do this," said Spyro. "I'm not saying I will yet, but if I do..." He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "Do you really think things can be different? That the Skylanders can handle two Spyros?"

Cynder smiled, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I know they can."

"When did you get so sappy? I know your dad didn't teach you that!" Spyro chuckled. "Sorry. It's just… I still can't believe this is coming from you of all people. You were the first friend I betrayed. I lied to the others about getting hurt trying to save you, but the truth is, I never tried to save you at all."

Cynder gave him a determined look. "And I'll still be your friend, if you let me. The first friend who knows the whole truth about you, and still wants to give you a chance."

Spyro smirked, nudging her. "You're unbelievable, you know that, right? But… thanks."

Cynder nodded, beaming. "Now, don't get me wrong, I'm still friends with Spyro… I mean, the other Spyro… but I want to be your friend too, Spyro!" She blinked, scratching her head. "That's really going to get confusing when he comes back from his journey with Master Eon."

Spyro laughed… a good, honest, not maniacally evil at all kind of laugh. "What's confusing about it?" He rose and jerked a thumb claw towards his chest. "I'm Spyro the Dragon... and if 'Spyronius' doesn't like that, he's more than welcome to change his name!"

Cynder giggled, and unexpectedly threw her forelimbs around him… Spyro squirmed and protested the hug, but not too much. The two young dragons watched the sunset together, and made plans. There surely would be other troubles in the morning, but for now… all was right in the Skylands.