It was a bright sunny day earlier, and now a dark peaceful night. Spyro sat atop the temple, watching leaves blow in the breeze. No one had known about this place, Not Ignitus, not Volteer, not Cyrill, not Terrador, not Sparx, nor Cynder. Spyro liked it this way; the world was hard and cruel to him. He needed a break every now and again. Ever since being "the chosen dragon" his life flew by so fast, days became hours, weeks became days, months became weeks and so on. He was becoming weak again, but he had been fighting more than usual, Ignitus worried, but Spyro knew everything was all right. The whole world seemed to glow as golden leaves flew by. It was a truly remarkable sight.
"Spyro!" A voice called from far away.
"I say, where do you think he has gone off to this time?" another voice chimed in. It was Ignitus and Cyrill. There were more chatterings coming from them, but they were too far away. But because he could hear them, he guessed that they were directly below him.
"I'm coming!" he called out as loud as he could. Carefully gliding down to a large mushroom to insure that his hiding place would not be found, Spyro jumped in the canopy of plant life that surrounded the temple. Sparx often hid in the plant to jump out and scare people. Lately, he hadn't been doing it much, considering that Terrador was caught by surprise and squashed him against a wall. Spyro leaped and hurried, trying to be discreet. Finally, after minutes of running he finally reached the temple door. Taking the long way took forever, but gliding down would've revealed him. Ignitus was already waiting for him.
"There you are, I've been looking for you, were in the world did you go?" asked Ignitus.
"Oh, I was in the treetops, looking for Sparx, then I guess I dozed off since it was warm." Spyro replied. It didn't feel right lying to Ignitus. They're close, almost like father and son, but something inside of him told him to keep quiet.
"Alright then, like I've said many times, it's dangerous outside during the night" Ignitus said, pushing the statue in place to open the door. It took him a while. He was getting older and the fighting recently had worn him out. A lot of Cynder's old goons have decided they want their leader back one way or another. So the temple had recently blown to bits. Rubble and litter were everywhere. The stones were cracked and the ceiling's holes exposed certain areas. It was awfully big, so they could always sleep somewhere else. The air was thick with the dust, and there was a sense of safety, as if there were to be no attack tonight.
"Good night Ignitus" Spyro said, walking down the hall.
"Good night Spyro" he replied, heading in the other direction. His steps were slow; he was growing much older and weaker. Making him get up and look for the young dragon caused him even more guilt. He could be on his last legs, and Spyro was making him worry and move around more than usual. Inside the large stone room with a partly exposed roof, his friend for life, Sparx, greeted Spyro.
"Hello mystical magical purple one! How's it hanging? Eh? Hey, uh, can I sleep near you? The monstrosity is freaking me out. A lot more than usual." Sparx said, buzzing around excitedly.
"What are you talking about?" Spyro said, confused at the statement "Cynder doesn't sleep here." He said. It was their room and Cynder had her own, slightly smaller, but a reasonable size.
"Yeah, yeah, tell it that." Sparx muttered, pointing at her. She was staring at the hole in the ceiling, her eyes glazed over, as if she has been touched by death. Her chest wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing.