Disclaimer: This story, set in the Legend of Spyro universe some time after Dawn of the Dragon, contains no characters of my making. They all, I believe, belong to Activision. Only the story is mine.
My other father
I love my fathers—all of you.
Spyro, the still-young purple dragon, sat bent over what he had just written, forcing his thoughts together. He had to do this. He pressed quill to parchment.
Flash—Dad. How did you and Mom, a couple dragonflies, manage to raise a young dragon like me, anyway? I was born five times your size! Yeah, you were pretty creative in disciplining me sometimes—I guess you had to be. And I didn't like it. I mean, who would when you were as young as I was? (But I swear what happened near your favorite sunning rock that time was Sparx's idea! Honest!)
But you took care of me and kept me out of trouble. You taught me what was right and that I was important to you—even when the other dragonflies around called me weird.
Spyro stopped for a moment. Then, collecting himself, he continued.
Of course, though, I couldn't stay with you forever. I was a dragon—not a dragonfly. And sooner or later, I would find that out. One ape attack on Sparx and one really big burst of flame from me made sure of that!
After suddenly finding out I could do that, I had no idea who or what I was anymore. I wasn't one of you. And you and Mom could only say that I came from somewhere far away. Not that I blame you. I love you.
But I had to find that 'somewhere.'
Spyro took another breath.
And I did find it—and you, Ignitus. There you were in that cave, everything a dragon should be, all in one package. Everything I didn't know about myself and that my first parents had no way of teaching me—what it was to be a dragon.
You wanted a hope, I guess, someone to save the land. And I guess I gave it to you, the legendary purple dragon of prophecy, stumbling right into you.
But you never saw me as just that, did you? I mean, the times I saw you the happiest—the times I saw you smile—weren't when I'd just won some great victory for all dragonkind, freeing one of the other guardians or even freeing Cynder from Malefor's darkness.
No, they were when no one else was around and you were trying to somehow keep up with me as I shot around that field like some bouncing ball of energy! Guess I'll know soon enough what it's like keeping up with a kid, though!
He grinned at the memory. And you loved it—especially when Cynder finally joined us!
His grin disappeared. But then, you had to leave. Another father. And, unlike Dad, I can't come back to you.
His brow furrowed. But, pressing forward, he dove in once more.
You know, things couldn't be better right now. It's been peaceful for a while, a lot of dragons have come out of hiding since hearing Malefor's not around anymore, Cynder and I are happily married, and we have friends.
And, to top all that off, she's even gravid! We just found out. In only a few months, I'm going to be a father! Guess that's why I'm thinking about all this.
He needed a stretch. Or at least, that was what he told himself. He got up. Walking around, he stole glances back in the parchment's direction every now and then. It was still there.
He took his breath. He stalled no more.
But what about you—my other father? He wrote. My blood father? You have to be out there somewhere. I'm pretty sure you aren't Ignitus. And you couldn't be Dad—Flash. (That would be a picture if you were, though!) He frowned. Who are you?
He pushed away, thrusting himself in a quarter circle. Slowly, his head turned back, his eyes lingering on the parchment as if expecting an answer. None came. Grunting, he threw himself back to the desk, pummeling the scroll with questions like a rapid-fire rain of thunder.
Where are you? Who are you? Are you alive? Have we met? Did you know me when we did? Did you want to tell me something? Why didn't you say it?
Who are you, Dad?
Spent, he gulped out a breath and started away. But then…
I love my fathers. I do.
