Part I: The New World

Chapter I: After the Storm

The Valley of Avalar
December 13th
12:17 PM

The sun shined brightly as it began to pierce the smoky haze left by the smoldering corpses of the armored tanks of the Hermann/Reid Armored Divsion. Around the burning Fort Kelly was a graveyard of scrap metal. Spyro, weakened greatly by the darkness he had unleashed, walked to General Elliot, leaning against Cynder for support.

The general, lit cigar smoldering unsmoked between his tobacco-stained fingers, stared in numb shock and disbelief at the sight before him. 4000+ tanks, reduced to scrap metal, and the severely outnumbered and outgunned Allies mostly intact. It was nothing short of a god-given miracle in the general's eyes.

Sgt. Randall Carter Fox, watching as Spyro and Cynder trudged along across the crater-laden turf ran up to the duo. He picked up Spyro in a fireman's carry and chuckled softly to himself as Cynder panted and collapsed, relieved that the weight of her boyfriend (she was proud to call him so), had been relieved from her heaving shoulders.

Spyro ignored Randall, seeming to care less about his dignity and the awkwardness of the sight of the human carrying a full-grown dragon. "You okay Cynder? Or do I need to call a medic?" Randall taunted.

"I'm not in any mood for your witty remarks Fox."

"You were in that tent for a long time...what were you two doing?"

"Talking..."

"Uh huh, sure."

"...and we...um...kissed."

Randall raised his eyebrows in mock amusement.

"Don't start Fox, I'm not in the mood."

Randall led them over to Elliot, still staring in dumb amazement.

Cynder asked in mild amusement, "You okay Elliot? Or are you having a heart attack or a stroke or something."

He started, as if awakening from hypnosis, "What? Oh, I'm just...stunned to say the least...that your boyfriend wiped out the entire division..."

"He can be amazing."

"So I take you two are an item now?"

"What?"

"You didn't deny it."

"There's nothing to deny."

"So it's true then."

Cynder blushed and looked away nervously.

"I take that as a yes. Hey Fox, how is he?" Elliot nodded towards Spyro.

"Unconscious...but alive."

Elliot nodded faintly, "Good. That boy deserves a medal. If I only still had standing in the US military, I'd put his name in for a Medal of Honor."

Suddenly, Spyro began to mumble in his sleep, and his unhealthy, pale violet scales adopted a macabre black glow. The group suddenly collapsed, dizzy, and clammy. There was a flash of light, and they all blacked out...