The Hearse

The back of my head

Left a spot on the bed where it bled

You're not to worry

Always look ahead

Don't live with your eyes

Under the guise that they're blurry

Now I'm in the back

Of that hearse

I'm wearing black

No, it's not in dark for you

That hearse is clear

It could be worse

The driver turned around

I thought I heard him say

"The nights will abate

Even if it's not your way

It's the hand of fate

Always in the game

So, you'll live

To see another day."

Remember that gift?

The one you gave me

It's now adrift

In the halls of my mind.

I remember you

For who you were.

You're wading too

Through the mind you knew.

The hearse always

Runs out of gas.

At that point,

The three men appear.

And even though you thought

I was the last

One of their heads

Is red on the back.


The Spyro and Cynder Adventures: The Dominion of Deismo

Chapter 1: The Quiet Life

The second ending of the world started off quietly for the citizens of Warfang. The mornings were always quiet in this city; as if some unsaid agreement had been made by the framers of Warfangian culture to keep its denizens off of the streets until mid-morning's time.

This fact was unknowingly comforting to Spyro, he preferred rising early in the mornings when nearly no other individuals were on the streets. Almost every morning since he and the refugees from Draxis had arrived in the city a week prior, the Purple Dragon had visited the eastern wall of Warfang to view the sunrise. Warfang was a city of few strong artificial lights, so both the sunrises and sunsets in the city were always full of color. The purple shades were, almost ironically, the most beautiful to the Purple Dragon. The royal shades were the rarest to show, but were always the brightest and strongest when they did. There was something almost...inspiring about it.

Looking over, Spyro smiled at the dragoness who was silently sitting next to him. Cynder seemed to enjoy these mornings as much as he did; she had been joining him most mornings ever since he had started the a few days prior. She had mentioned that there was something comforting not only about the colors in the sky but just spending time with the Purple Dragon, even if it was normally a silent ordeal between the two of them.

Noticing his gaze, she turned to look at Spyro. "What?" she asked, smirking and with one eye ridge raised.

The Purple Dragon closed his eyes, smiling to himself. Turning his head down away from the Midnight Dragoness, he said, "You're stunning, have I ever told you that?"

Spyro could almost see her rolling her eyes, even with his own eyes closed. "Yes, on a daily basis if I remember correctly, slag-head," she said. Sighing happily, Cynder looked back down across the plains that surrounded Warfang. Without looking back at Spyro, she said, "To think that every morning will be spent like this…"

Opening his eyes, Spyro smiled at the prospect. "Once I finish at the Academy, I'm going to try to purchase some property near this side of the city."

"The property taxes and even the purchase costs are higher here than everywhere else in the city. You're close to the mountains, plains and ocean on this side of the city," Cynder responded, still smiling lightly.

"But the Academy, Temple and Great Hall are all here. It's well worth the costs. And you know what some of the residents want to offer us…"

"You're really planning on accepting their offer? Wouldn't you especially feel at least a bit guilty about doing that " Cynde replied, slightly surprised.

Spyro shrugged. "I don't know yet," he said slowly, "They've been relentless with the offer. Part of me would feel bad for not accepting it as well. They want to feel like they've repaid some of that 'debt' that everyone keeps mentioning."

Cynder nodded at the words, looking out on the city in thought for a moment. The offer that they were discussing had come from the City Conclave. The Conclave, a sort of legislative group that advised the Guardian Council, had offered either one or two permanent residences for the two heroes anywhere within Warfang. The offer was obviously humbling, but it seemed...materialistic to both Cynder and Spyro. They didn't want to be held above anyone else within the Dragon City; they had saved the world because they had felt that it was their duty. Now that the crisis had been abated, some groups wanted to reward them.

It didn't sit entirely right with either of them.

Turning back to the Purple Dragon, Cynder simply shrugged again. "I don't know what I'll do about it," she said, "Either way, I think they'll respect that I just want to finish at the Academy first before I decide on anything like that."

Spyro nodded and said, "They will. Even if you accept the offer, what will you do with it?"

"I don't know. Probably try to do the same as you; find a residence in this side of the city."

"Lots of windows? Large study with three dozen bookcases and a hearth? Big backyard for the future hatchlings?" Spyro grinned, humored at the thought.

Cynder returned the smile and punched Spyro's arm lightly. "You wish, you slag-head," she said.

The two had been nurturing a relationship for about a week and a half, ever since they had both emerged from their states of Eternal Slumber. It was a new experience for the both of them, but the presence of the other made it less daunting, and more familiar. It was comforting to the both of them, knowing that they had each other.

They no longer had to live in fear, and it was certainly a lot more relaxing than being chained together during a war.

Spyro stood up suddenly, stretching out his wings and legs. Looking over at the Midnight Dragoness, he motioned his head back towards the city. "You all ready to go back? I'm itching to see everyone this morning," he said.

Cynder nodded, picking her own sleek form off of the ground as she said, "Sure, that's fine. I don't want to stay here alone if you're leaving."

Spyro stopped and turned around, cocking his head to one side. "I don't want to leave if you're not ready to do so," he said, his voice showing obvious concern.

The Midnight Dragoness smiled and pecked the Purple Dragon on the cheek. "I'm fine to go wherever you are, Spyro. Don't worry about it."

Surprisingly to those that weren't familiar with the new couple, Spyro didn't blush or feel at all uncomfortable or off-guard by her display of affection. No, it had become something that he looked forward to, something the Purple Dragon instead cherished, not something that was unfamiliar. It, instead, was familiar.

Nodding and smiling silently at each other, the dragons took off from the wall, headed to the center of the city, towards the towering spires of the Dragon Temple as thunder from a sudden rain storm was sounded behind the pair of dragons as they flew through the city.

It was still early morning, but that didn't mean that the Dragon City wasn't coming alive. Terrador had held a speech, of sorts, outside of the Great Hall near the center of the city. It had been, unsurprisingly, quite a shock to most of the residents that had gathered there. The events that had led to the destruction of an entire village were not something that any mortal could stomach lightly, especially the bits about mere teenagers interacting with the Ancestors. Most Warfangians had continued on with their daily lives, albeit with hushed whispers of the war that was soon coming to the walls of the great capital once more. Some of the other residents of the city, however, they were preparing to fight.

Throughout the week, hammering of metal and the drilling of whetstones could be heard, echoing off of the towering buildings of the Dragon City. It was not something that put any resident's mind at peace. One war had ended and another was just beginning. Ignitus had claimed that an era of peace would follow the downfall of Malefor. Would it ever happen?

The pair of heroes continued towards the Temple in silence, both simply taking in the city that flowed below them and the highrises that threatened to take them out of the sky if they didn't avoid the structures. A few minutes after leaving the wall, the pair arrived at the Temple and walked slowly inside.

Looking over at Cynder as they entered, Spyro said, "I wonder where Naturion went off to."

"He was still nursing that wound on his leg when I last saw him," Cynder replied, shrugging slightly, "The nurse said he might be able to get out of there today or within the next few, since he healed up quickly after the attack."

Spyro nodded, looking away from the Midnight Dragoness and contemplating the dragon for a few moments. The Electric Dragon was a bit of an enigma to the refugees. His strange markings, sudden appearance and obscure background only added to the mysterious aura that seemed to bound off of him. They had saved him from being killed by a group of Bloodclaw scouts outside of Warfang a week before, but he had not revealed much of himself. He claimed to be an orphan, his family having being killed during the war. He said that he and his family had lived in some cave network to the slight west of Warfang, but didn't specify the actual area of where they had hidden during the conflict. He seemed to be telling the truth, but refused to give any more details about the fate of his parents or even his clan name. He was odd and mysterious, to say the least, but also quite friendly and approachable even if his explanations left something to be desired.

Looking back up, the Purple Dragon nodded and motioned with a paw towards the infirmary, the area where the Electric Dragon was being cared for. "Why don't we go check up on him?" asked Spyro, "He might be up and at it by now. Those nurses work all week at times."

Cynder shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I don't see why not. I doubt anyone else is even up yet."

Spyro nodded and began walking down towards the infirmary, closely flanked by Cynder. He couldn't help but marvel at the construction of the Temple. While it certainly was new, improved, and much bigger than the original, it was functional and beautifully constructed. The walls had been laid perfectly in place and the structure was almost perfectly symmetrical all the way around. It was stunning just to walk through.

Rounding the far corridor, the pair of heroes approached the medical wing and entered slowly and quietly. It was an average sized room, but the infirmary was meant to treat Academy personnel only; it certainly didn't have the size to take Warfang citizens into account.

The Purple Dragon gazed around the room, looking for the Electric Dragon. He didn't have to look for long. Naturion was situated just across the interior of the room. He was looking up at the ceiling, daydreaming, not having noticed the duo enter. He wasn't being tended to either, beyond a nurse stationed in the room. That was a good sign.

Spyro was the first to walk over. Smiling lightly, he said, "Hey there, Naturion. How are you feeling?"

The Electric Dragon cast his gaze down from the ceiling and nodded at the dragons' approach. "Hey yourself, Spyro, Cynder," he said, nodding to both dragons, "I'm feeling well today. Nothing I can't handle," he said, grinning as he stood up and stretched his legs and wings, "The doc says I might be able to get out of the infirmary today, but there's always just one more test that she has to run."

Cynder cocked her head to one side, slightly interested. "Who is healing you?" the Midnight Dragoness asked.

"The wolven healer from Draxis, that Pirsan lady," the pearly white dragon relpied, "She's nice...made sure that I was doing well the entire time."

"She was nothing but caring when we first met her. She certainly does her job well," nodded Cynder.

"She really does. I don't think it'd surprise me if she rose up the ranks of the healers here in Warfang," affirmed Naturion.

"What makes you say that?" questioned Spyro.

"She's humble, but confident," said Naturion with a nod, "She knows medical theory and application better than most of the other healers that I've met. Most I know would just break a red crystal over my head and hope for the best," he said, drawing a laugh from both dragons, "What is it with some wolves and being so talented in so many areas?"

"Kameron doesn't fit that assertion," joked Spyro, mentioning the wolven captain that had attacked and destroyed Draxis a week prior. The group chuckled at it; it helped take the destruction off of the heroes' minds.

After calming down, Naturion sighed and shook his head. "No, he doesn't, but Pirsan certainly does. As do those two Bloodlcaws turned allies you mentioned. Silas and Avalene, right?" he said.

Spyro nodded and said, "Right. They're the two that came from Kameron's family...through some line or another. While they did defect to our side, they've been silent over the past week. Not trying anything, but they're keeping to themselves."

Cynder shrugged and said, "Can you blame them? I'm sure some of the refugees would and will want to tear them apart for being so close to Kameron and not taking an opportunity. They've been at odds with him for a long time, according to Silas."

"Why didn't they make a move sooner?" asked Naturion, an eye ridge risen.

"Because Kameron is allied with...him," responded Spyro, shivering at the thought of the Draconian God, Deismo. He, the Dark God of Shadows, was responsible for calling the raid on Draxis that eventually resulted in the complete destruction of the village. He was the one responsible for dozens of deaths, along with his commander, Kameron.

Naturion nodded, having been briefed on the situation by the pair earlier in the week. "If I can help in any way with the defense of both Warfang and the Kingdom of Avalar, I will," he affirmed.

Spyro nodded and smiled lightly. "I know we all appreciate that, but you have to recover from that wound of yours first!" he said, chuckling slightly.

Naturion smirked and responded, "I'll be out of here before the morning's up, watch me."

"We'll see, we'll see."

Naturion chuckled, drawing a laugh from both Spyro and Cynder as well. As soon as they had calmed down, Naturion looked over the two dragon's shoulders.

"Have either of you seen Richter or Tamara since their little...ordeal?" He asked, keeping his voice down.

Cynder's facial expression saddened as she shook her head and said, "I've not seen Tamara come out of her room since she told the truth to Richter. As for Richter, well... he's just...disappeared."

Spyro, his face also showing a tint of depression, spoke, "She told Terrador that he just up and left when she told him her secret. He sent out a search party to find him, but they didn't turn up much."

"The guy's pretty much built to fight," responded Naturion, "I'm more worried about Tamara. She's been shut in her room for too long, like you said, Cynder."

The Midnight Dragoness shook her head. "I don't know, I think he'll return when he's ready, but who's to say that it'll be soon? He's had his world turned upside down in the past few weeks. I can't even imagine what he's probably going through right now."

"Neither can Tamara," responded Spyro, "I think we should go check on her. Spirits know she needs help right now."

"She doesn't need just help," said Cynder.

"What does she need, then?"

"She needs Richter."


Tamara was not one to let her emotions entirely take over her life. Sure, she was the emotional type, even cried at times. She was a creature of emotion, as her parents had intended.

But not even this self-reassurance could stop the onrush of tears that she was going through right now.

It had been a week since the refugees of Draxis had arrived back in the city. A week since the Ice 'Dragoness' had revealed her secret to her best friend and love of her life, Richter.

How was she supposed to reveal it any other way? He had just come into contact with her parents, for the first time. It was something that Emuleta had intended, or so she had said…

She shook the thought from her mind, not wanting to think about her own origins. Her purpose had been clear from the start, but as she had matured into her individual, she had developed a personality and a purpose that far outreached what the Spirits had intended.

She put her head back down on the pillow at that thought. Was she nothing but a tool? A resource to be used by the Ancestors? If that was the case, what would happen to her when she accomplished that purpose?

She shook her head again, pulling it away from the pillow and getting up out of the bed. Walking to the door, she opened it for the first time in a week. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, she continued down the hallway and down into the entrance hall of the Academy.

She exited the building. It was mid-morning, it seemed. 10:00 was a bustling time in Warfang, especially during the middle of the week on Wednesday Market Days. She wasn't going shopping, though. Lifting herself off of the ground, the Ice Dragoness carried herself to the gardens outside of the Temple, the place where she had first admitted the truth to Richter.

The gardens were mostly empty at this time, only the Grower's Market on Saturday populated these gardens. But, for now, Tamara could think in peace. She brought herself to the spot where she had last seen Richter.

He hadn't taken the news lightly.

She closed her eyes, remembering what had happened after she had told the Earth Dragon of her origins.

"You kept this from me for, what, 16 years? Did you not want to tell me, or did that sweet mother of yours not want me to know?" he said, clearly feeling betrayed and confused.

"Richter...it wasn't my decision. If I had told you, you would have learned too early. It would have stunted your growth into the dragon I've come to adore today," responded Tamara, nearly on the brink of tears.

Richter paced away from the Ice Dragoness, throwing his paws up in anger. "I can't believe this, the friend I came to know for so many years….the individual I came to care for and trust with my life...it's all been a lie!" he shouted suddenly, his eyes burning with rage and confusion.

"Richter, please, I want to explain-"

"NO!" he shouted suddenly, cutting her off, "You had 16 years to give me an explanation. Instead, you trust you absent omnipotent mother on her word that I wouldn't be impacted by this revelation. Well, I'll tell you something, Tammy, I AM impacted."

"We...we thought you-you would un-understand," responded the Ice Dragoness, on the brink of tears at the Earth Dragon's response to her.

"No, by slag, I DON'T understand. Dear Spirits, Tamara...I thought you knew…" he said, still angry.

"What-what do you mean?" she said weakly.

"Tamara, I LOVE you. I adore you, you're the most important individual I have left in this life. And now, you reveal this? No, I'm done with this. I'm done with you, Warfang, the Spirits. Everyone. Goodbye."

"Richter! No!" she shouted at him, but he was already gone.

She opened her eyes and laid her head on the grass. She loved him too, but in the heat of the moment, hadn't been able to tel her. She hadn't expected to hear it from him in the manner that he had admitted it. Was she destined to live this way? Not have love, and live like a resource for the Spirits for the rest of her life?

"You know as well as I do that you're no tool, Tamara," came a familiar and soothing feminine voice.

Tamara, without looking up from her planted position on the ground, said, "I don't know if I can trust that opinion anymore, mother," came the Ice Dragoness' response.

She heard Emuleta sigh and and sit down next to her. Her normally blinding light aura was dimmer this time, indicating that she was either depressed or distressed. At least that's how she had once explained it to the Dragoness.

After a short bout of silence, Tamara spoke, "Why didn't you stop it?"

Emuleta, reading her mind, said, "Because I couldn't."

"What do you mean, you couldn't?"

"I'm not the Spirit of War, my sweet daughter. I cannot intervene in the affairs of your kind in such a manner like Será can. The war among the Spirits is the only conflict my role permits me to take an active role in," the Chief Spirit responded, her vocal tone showing depression, "I'm only here because you are currently day dreaming."

"Spirit of Light, Compassion and Dreams, I remember," responded Tamara, still not bringing her head up to meet her mother's gaze, "Why are you here?"

"To affirm that you'll be alright, and that Richter is-"

"You don't get to talk about him!" the Ice Dragoness suddenly shouted, bringing her head away from the grass. Her face was a mess, having collected tears on her face for the past few hours.

Emuleta visibly withdrew at this, slightly surprised by her display of anger. "Tamara, I…"

"No, you listen to me this time," responded the Ice Dragoness, staring firmly into her mother's bright eyes. Emuleta simply nodded and remained silent.

"Your actions, your expectations, your hopes for him; they've ruined his life. I know my original purpose. I know what I was supposed to do with him, I remember. But individuals change. My purpose is not to 'monitor the Earth Dragon and track his potential as he grows' anymore. When you and Deismo gave me life, you both realized the potential that such a creation had. My purpose is my own now; to live and protect those that call me family and friend. I'm not a pawn to be used by you and Ursing anymore. You gave me life, but I'm able to determine what I do with that life now. I love Richter. And I'll do everything I can do to protect him."

Emuleta was silent for a long time after receiving the Dragoness' words. She looked away, clearly distressed and conflicted. "You were created to serve us. I've always seen that as a mistake."

"Yes, it was and is a mistake. Life is not something that can be manipulated, mother. It changes, it reforms, it evolves. And I've done all of those things."

Emuleta didn't look back at the dragoness, but said, "A long time ago, I was not a goddess. I was a mortal, a mother and a caretaker."

"You...what?" responded the Ice Dragoness, clearly confused. All of the legends spoke of her as the one that had created the world along with Deismo.

She shook her head as she turned back to the Dragoness, her daughter, and said, "No, I was not a creation of the cosmos. I am a creation of this world, I was one of the first Dragons to walk on this planet. I had a home, a family, a mate, a brother and a daughter once. Her name was Tamara, and my mate's name was Deismo."

"What do you mean?" her daughter asked, calming her emotions.

Emuleta's facial expression saddened. "You...you died a long time ago, in a war long forgotten. It tore the world apart. It changed everything, and we discovered things...things that changed who we were and what was to happen to us. I did not create Dragonkind or any of the creatures that inhabit this plane of existence. I did not create the Earth, Fire, Water and Air. The only thing I ever brought into the world…it was you. And then you were taken from me," she said. The Spirit looked away, slight drops of tears dropping from her eyes. They were glowing, much like her eyes were.

Tamara was stunned. All of the legends, the stories and even what the Spirits themselves had told her attributed her mother and father as the beings that had created the world. If she hadn't...who had? Why hadn't she been told earlier? And who had Tamara been previously?

"Mother...what was she...what was I like?" she asked, putting a paw over her mother's.

Emuleta looked back over at the Ice Dragoness and smiled lightly, color returning to her golden scales and aura by a small tint. She said, "You were...the same as you are now. Deismo and I have created many golems in the past, but nothing quite like you."

"Why did you do it? Create me in the form of your daughter?"

"Because we wanted one," the Goddess responded, smiling brighter, "We wanted to hold you again. Tamara, your purpose was not only to serve us...we intended for you to possess your own life; free from our influence. We wanted a daughter, and so it came to be."

"Mother…" Tamara said no more, instead wrapping her paws around her mother. The Spirit returned the favor and her aura brightened ten-fold.

"We did not choose to look into your future to manipulate it. That was your own doing, your own path to forge. And we knew it might cross paths with Richter in the way that you have. But we both accepted that. And then...he turned," the Spirit said, her aura fading again at the thought.

Tamara looked up, staring into her mother's eyes. "Is there...is there any hope of bringing him back into the light?"

Emuleta shook her head unknowingly, "I do not know the inner workings of his mind, my sweet daughter. Spirits cannot and will not read the minds of other Spirits. I do not know if he can be saved, but…" she trailed off, looking away from her daughter.

"What, what is it, mother?"

"Sweet, sweet Tamara...I just want my family back."


The wind was always calming, serene. Even though he was an Earth Dragon, Richter had always enjoyed flying. He had larger wings than most others of his age and had always been able to move faster and accelerate quicker than his peers from Draxis.

That point had come in handy when he had promptly left Warfang for parts unknown to even him. He was certain that the Guardians and his father had sent out search parties by now, but it didn't mean anything to Richter. He had too much on his mind, too much to take in. Conversing to either one of them, his father or his uncle, would only bring about undue stress that he didn't need any more of right now.

He looked down at the world below him, freeing his mind of thoughts of her for a moment. The grass seemed to be the only thing that grew on this side of the city. Forests and mountains were on either side of Warfang, but the 'Great Battle Plain', as it had been informally named by some residents, was just that: a rather plain meadow. However, it stretched on for miles. He'd been flying for a week, but hadn't sought to clear the city as of yet. He didn't want to be found, but didn't want to leave Warfang too far behind either. He fully intended to go back, eventually.

The ground here had been soaked with the blood of countless individuals, over the many battles, sieges and wars that Warfang had seen over time. It was almost...surreally depressing. War almost never seemed to end for the Dragon City, either civil unrest or dark dragon gods seemed to be rising up to start yet another conflict every year.

Armies had been risen, battles had been fought and soldiers had been killed over many different reasons through the history of Warfang. This latest conflict seemed to be more high-stakes than the rest the City had encountered, but it was no less similar to the rest.

Richter sighed and shook his head at the fact. It seemed soldiers like himself would always be in demand, no matter what the times brought to the walls of Warfang. Combat seemed to be unending, a 'Season Unending', as an old Wafangian proverb said.

Richter had chosen this life when he was younger, as a result in the interest he had shown in playing war games, skill in solving his father's strategy simulations from his Academy days, and his uncanny ability to lead, or so his father had told him for many years now.

And he had wanted to become a soldier. Ever since those days, there had certainly been an attraction that Earth Dragon had had to the heroic lives of those soldiers. They threw themselves into the fire in support of their country, family and friends. The legends sang tales of their bravery and how they had all saved the world time and time again. They would return a hero, fall in love with the beauty staring at them from across the crowd and live a long and prosperous life.

The anger bubbled up inside of the Earth Dragon again and he fired an earth shot at the ground. It hit the meadow, tearing apart some blue tulips that had begun to sprout in the spot. They looked a lot like Tamara's scales, ironically. A twang of guilt hit the Earth Dragon as the meadow below began turning into sparse trees and eventually an entire forest. He hadn't meant to hurt the flowers; they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He shook his head at this thought and closed his eyes. Too much had happened, too much was going on, and too much was bound to occur in the near future. He just wanted to get away from it all, just live in peace and not worry about losing any more loved ones any longer.

With this thought in mind, Richter began to descend towards the ground. Hills seemed to be plentiful in this part of the forest, he assumed some caves would accompany these rises in the earth. Landing, he looked back up at the sky, noting the time to be around mid-evening. He began walking, taking in the sounds and sights around him. The forests around Warfang were not unlike the ones he had spent so many hours in back home; some parts of the southwestern forest even came into contact with the Draxis River as the trees moved in that direction. The forests of Warfang were large; the continent as a whole hadn't been completely settled, and Malefor's war wiped most smaller settlements off of the map. Only two real cities remained: Warfang and Taltian City. It was said that Taltian was entirely a non-draconian settlement, but that had been before the war. Diplomatic standards would have to be re-established if both cities were to survive Deismo's onslaught.

Richter shook the geographic thoughts from his mind and continued looking for a cave. A rustling of grass suddenly hit his ears from the side, causing him to jump slightly. A rabbit emerged from the tall grass, and looked at Richter with curiously painted black and beady eyes. The Earth Dragon smiled at this, and made no move to make the rabbit into his next meal. The creature observed him for another moment before it jumped back away in the direction that it had come from. Curiously, Richter began to follow it slowly, hoping that it would lead him to shelter. Thunder boomed ominously overhead, confirming the Earth Dragon's need for shelter, and quickly.

He continued through the tall grass that the rabbit had went through. What met his eyes on the other side made Richter smirk lightly. A small hill had seemed to form a small outcropping, and beneath it formed a natural shelter from the rain and elements. The rabbit was nowhere to be found, but Richter paid it no mind and walked over towards the shelter and sat down, stretching out his legs for a moment as he did so. Realizing the night would be chilly with the rain on its way, he stood back up and ran back towards the forest, looking for any fallen limbs to use as kindle for a fire.

After a short time of searching and smashing some trees and shrubbery, Richter walked back towards the outcropping, with a few dozen sticks in tow. He placed them in a circular position, hoping they would serve their job as an efficient starting point for a decently sized fire. Using what he had learned from his mother, he set two sticks together and began to rotate them against each other, hoping to get a spark. After only a few moments, the sticks caught and the fire lit.

The Earth Dragon sat back and relaxed, staring into the fire as he did so. It was a time to rest and think now, not for worrying and being preoccupied with the defeats he had faced over the past week. Fires, much like this one, had consumed his life. There was no end in sight to the cycle of conflict, and yet...here he was. Wasting time away in an out of the way portion of a forest he'd never been in. Tamara's claim came to mind, making the Earth Dragon put his head down on the ground.

How was he supposed to react any differently? He felt betrayed, and for a good reason. Or so he had lead himself to believe. He'd admitted his love for the dragoness, something he never thought he'd do. His deepest secret, one that he didn't want to share with anyone but himself. It was a spur of the moment type of thing, but...the truth of Tamara was more important to Richter.

She was a demigod, or at least a golem, an object given life by the Ancestors. What did that mean for the two of them? Did it really change anything between them Why had Tamara been so involved in his life from the very beginning? Was she a spy of some sort? Looking out on him for Emuleta and Deismo?

Richter choked up at the thought. The Ice Dragoness he'd come to love was only a lie to him. Was his fate just to live in shadows for the rest of his life? Was he destined to never find true happiness and fulfillment?

The Earth Dragon's eyes eventually dropped as his mind became overworked with more and more thoughts bustling through his consciousness. As sleep finally did take him, the rain finally began to fall.

Not a single drop would come to touch him.


A/N: So, here begins yet another addition to the the series that has changed my life. The people I've met, the places I've been and the experiences that I've had because of this series...it's nothing I'd ever expected before I started writing this little book. Thank you all for joining me for Eternal Slumber and here's to another hopeful run for The Dominion of Deismo.

Chapters should be released biweekly, as I'm finally finding the time to write again. It's an amazing feeling, let me tell you. As always, don't forget to review, leave a comment or just tell me how awful of a writer I am. I accept all forms of currency! XD Anyways, see you all next time.

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