(Miss me? At least Remember me? Well, here's a new, yet relatively short, story for an OC of mine. You might or might not be wondering where I've been, and I've been here, every day at that, however .. I have not been able to update any of my stories, due to a couple reasons. Namely Warcraft, Starcraft, Skyrim taking my attention away, and even greater so is that my flash drive containing all of my previous works is no longer responsive, meaning that I cannot access anything inside it, and I don't want to go about rewriting anything. However, this doesn't mean anything is discontinued; someday, I'll continue my older stories. ... Hmm, actually, Spyro's Universal Adventures is discontinued, I intend to remake it someday with new characters and plots. Well, onto the story.)
Cynthia sighed deeply, wishing she had never come to this city that she had lived in. Currently, the blue-scaled dragoness with a green belly, wing membranes, and eyes was sitting underground, shackled in all but her neck and head. Her webbed front paws were tightly pressed against the wall, as was her tri-bladed tail-tip, and her webbed hind paws were chained, yet she could still not move around. To make matters worse, her wings were clamped, so they could not be spread; worse than that though was the enchanted gray blocks that the cell was made from, preventing her from making use of either her water element, or acidic breath. All in all, there was nothing Cynthia could do to escape the cell she was in.
Not that she should've even been in there; as far as Cynthia knew, she had done nothing wrong. She couldn't help but scoff at the thought however, knowing well that her captors needed and wanted no reason to have her locked up. In addition to that, Cynthia was sure that she had been set up by her captors; she did not kill anyone!
It had only been earlier in the day that Cynthia had been walking by one of the boardwalks of Oceanclaw, a prosperous trade city sitting on the edge of the nearby sea. Oceanclaw was a long way from the great city of Warfang, where heroes like Spyro and Cynder lived, and Oceanclaw had its own set of Guardians, if Cynthia could call them that. There was one thing she was certain of, this city was as corrupt as it could get; individuality was getting stamped out wherever it could be found, and many had already given in, living the most boring and normal lives possible. There wasn't an ounce of art worth being made, and Cynthia couldn't recall the last time anyone had sung a song or danced and partied. This wasn't to say Oceanclaw wasn't a moderately beautiful city though, as the architecture of most buildings was marble in nature, and quite colorful were some of the buildings. Yet, this was mostly a facade for any visitors, whom were usually oblivious to the controlling actions of the so-called Guardians.
Normally, Cynthia had little problem with the city or its corruption, as she only lived there due to a technicality of where her true home was; a tiny island off of the coast that the guardians apparently laid claim to. She also tended to avoid most of the civilians, not seeking to draw attention to herself. Yet today was clearly different; she was walking around the boardwalk, somewhat close to an alley, and glanced down it, and oddly enough spotted a fire dragon that seemed to be unconscious. Curious, Cynthia slowly crept over to the dragon, soon noticing the dragon to be soaked in water, yet .. they weren't moving; was this dragon dead? She proceeded to give them a poke, and no reaction just about confirmed her fears, as did the fang-like puncture marks on the fire dragon's neck ... someone had indeed killed them.
Cynthia gasped in shock as she realized it, yet that wasn't all that shocked her ... "Murder!" She turned around as another dragon dashed off and out of sight.
It was that that brought Cynthia to her current situation .. imprisoned and alone. She sighed, quite certain that she was most likely going to die in here. After all, what did she mean to the Guardians of Oceanclaw? ... Most likely nothing. Then, she heard the sound of claws tapping stone, and in walked four distinctive dragons; Oceanclaw's Guardians. There was Scorch, a fire dragon the Cynthia knew to be pretty important in suppressing the people of the city. It was also said he had lost his mate to mysterious circumstances, and was quite distant from his daughter. Next was Shock of the electric element, whom Cynthia knew little about, but suspected him to be in charge of the prison and .. other things, that she didn't want to think about. Then came Geode the earth dragon, whom was a scientist of sorts, alongside keeping the city in shape. Lastly was Cryo the ice dragon, whom Cynthia knew the least about, which probably made him the scariest.
"I believe you know why you're here?" Scorch then spoke, red eyes staring at her scrutinizingly.
"Yes," Cynthia scoffed, "I did something you simply don't agree with. And it wasn't killing anyone."
"You are indeed in here for committing murder." Cyro said plainly, his snow-white feathery tail tip waving around.
Cynthia shook her head, "We all know it wasn't me."
"No? The victim was soaked heavily, and had puncture marks on their neck from fangs akin to yours; both of your elements. Not to mention you were seen at the scene of the crime." Geode stated, bronze-colored claws tapping on the ground.
Cynthia soon deadpanned, "... We live by the ocean, that makes no sense," and she then proceeded to open her jaws wide to unhinge her fangs, "and my fangs aren't even the same size as those marks. Lastly, it doesn't matter if I was there, anyone could've spotted that them."
Shock shook his head, "Youthful denial .. just give up, confess, and maybe your death will be instant."
Cynthia let out a low growl, "You ... you jerks, I know I have been framed, so just let me go already."
"You .. stop talking." Cryo said, taking a step forward, ready to slap her.
Cynthia only glared defiantly at him, as Scorch then said thoughtfully, "No, no, she's right. We did set you up, girl. However, it changes nothing, you'll either rot in here til you confess, or tell everyone you did it and die swiftly."
Cynthia growled, "In your dreams."
Scorch let out a sigh and turned around, "As you wish, good bye. We'll be back in a few days, I hope you'll have changed your mind by then. Come on friends, we've got much more important work to do."
Cynthia spat on the ground as they left and closed the cell, still unwilling to give in. Yet they remained true to their word, as after a full day of silent loneliness, they remained gone, and Cynthia's anger dwindled, though slightly. After a while, she sighed, wondering instead if they would simply leave her in here, forgotten forever. Her wings ached and she wondered if she would ever get to fly again, or even more so .. would she ever get to swim again; it was the only thing she loved more than flying, exploring the seas as far as she could go.
She sighed at her webbed paws; they were proof that she was meant for the water. Cynthia then wondered if Scorch and his friends would've at least given her something to eat and drink ... it would've at least given her something to keep her scales moist. But alas, they probably thought her to be unworthy of a last meal or anything like that.
This went on for a while long, reaching the third day of the supposed wait, and still no sign of the four. Cynthia, at that point, wanted nothing more than to move again, or see another face, yet nothing. Surely she'd be able to escape Scorch's grasp on the way outside? She knew she was no pushover in any fight.
As she reached the seventy-two hour mark, everything changed. It was sudden as anything; starting with a simple rumble, soon cascading into a roar as everything round Cynthia started shaking violently. She could only watch with a mix of fear and hopelessness as bricks began falling all around her, and the grate that was the previously the only source of sunlight fell down by her, as did the bricks that held the shackles to her front legs and tail. The roof of the cell, which was just about under the ground, began cracking, as more bricks began falling around her.
Cynthia gasped as the ground beneath her now began cracking, though not as badly as the ceiling. Eventually, everything stopped, and Cynthia let loose a sigh of relief, glad she wasn't buried alive with the bricks having fallen around her, and not on. She looked around, noticing much of the damage was in a straight path through the cell; the door had broken off of its hinges, yet beyond it the hallway had caved in somewhat, or at least as far as Cynthia could tell.
Behind her, if she twisted her neck enough, could peer outside through the various holes where bricks once were, to which she could tell that Oceanclaw had suffered greatly, with the peer shattered and water rushing through the cracks in the land. In fact, some of it was trickling through into the cell, of which she greedily lapped up, thirsty beyond what she'd ever been. Above her, light shown through in volumes greater than what she had gotten since being locked up, and it was great, for she could gaze at the sky again.
As the shock and amazement wore off, Cynthia sighed, realizing that with her wings still clamped and her hind paws still shackled, she was still as imprisoned as ever. Worse was that since the cell was still standing for the most part, it's enchantment remained, leaving Cynthia without her abilities. If she had wanted to try and unlock her remaining shackles, she realized that she was now too weak to successfully do so. She then realized something important; the 'Guardians', if they were still alive, would definitely have forgotten about her. Eventually, Cynthia would starve, and therefore she would surely die.
After a while longer, she resigned to her fate once more, until some slight company arrived; a single mouse. If Cynthia had not had a rumbling stomach, she would've let it live, but instead began eating it after getting in a swipe from her tail. This brought her some hope, but not much. It had to be another day before Cynthia wondered if she was stuck like this; powerless and weak and unable to go much further than a few paw-steps in a direction.
However, something eventually changed as Cynthia sadly watched the cell's entrance nearly exploded, collapsing to form a large new entrance. Cynthia soon gasped in hopeful shock as a silouette of smoke and dust stood on the hill that was the new opening, a dragon that was too young to be Scorch and his friends. Cynthia smiled weakly, for that though she had once been sure she would die, she now instead had a savior.
(And thus' Cynthia's tale has ended, yet it's not the end of Oceanclaw ... in fact, I'm planning a full force story regarding the events of the city, and its most undying citizens. You'll probably see this story as a first chapter for it too, since it has explainations and what not. Speaking of it all, just about everything for Oceanclaw has been inspired by the songs from Icon for Hire, and Cynthia herself was inspired by Off With Her Head; only one song isnt by IFH yet connects to this, Pretty Lies by Written by Wolves. Anywho, if you're wondering where I'm headed right after this, I'm heading back to Spyro and Cynder, though we'll be blasting off into space with my upcoming story The Echelon. If you want to read that, keep an eye out on the crossover section, as its as much as Spyro's story as it is nine other characters.)