Chapter 2 - Lost

Spyro tapped an impatient claw to the ground, his eyes firmly fixed on the captive dragon before them. He still hadn't woken up, and it was starting to get around midday. The earthen shackles Spyro had created still wrapped around the dragon's forepaws, a measure designed to avoid a repeat of the fight. Apart from that, there wasn't exactly much that either of them could do, beside sit and wait. And wait. And wait.

Beside him, Cynder stirred from where she lay in the shade, resting her head down on her outstretched forepaws. Spyro spared her a quick glance before turning away. He knew she was taking this badly, considering that another dragon had mistaken her for something monstrous. He wanted to comfort her, but he just wasn't sure how. Why was this so hard for him?

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Spyro instead chose to ponder another mystery before them. The fact that while the white dragon was afraid of Cynder, he didn't seem to know about her past as the Terror of the Skies. Instead, he had called her a demon. Spyro had ventured far and wide in his relatively short life, but he had never once come across a creature he would call a demon. But no matter how much he tried to reason with the issue, it remained entirely unanswerable, the only solution currently knocked out cold.

At least the weather was pleasant. A few more clouds had popped into existence, but the occasional shade they brought was more of the blessing rather than a curse. The hot sun beat down upon the young dragons, and Spyro was grateful for the plentiful cover the sweeping oak provided them. The beast that Cynder had chased off earlier hadn't come back, and the only other creature present was an erratic brown squirrel, leaping from branch to branch overhead. Spyro sighed. This was the sort of day that they deserved to rest and relax in, and not solve another mystery.

"Spyro?" Cynder spoke softly, her gaze still set upon the white dragon. "Why does this always happen? Dragons always take one glance at me, as just...run the other way."

"Cynder, it's not your fault." Spyro looked down at the beautiful dragoness before him. "Look at me." Cynder slowly raised her head, her emerald eyes meeting with his violet ones. Spyro took a breath, steeling his nerves for what he was about to say.

"It was Malefor. You had no choice in the matter, because I know that if you had, you would have never done any of those things. Because that's not you Cynder, it never was."

She looked away, but Spyro continued on anyways. "Cynder, please, don't do this to yourself. The actions that you take today define who you are, not the ones in the past. You're my best friend Cynder, and to be perfectly honest," Spyro paused, nerves almost getting the better of him. But he had to say this, he just had to. "Cynder, I just want to tell you that-"

A low groan interrupted him, both of them freezing at the sound. The white dragon was waking up, shaking his head blearily as his hazel eyes flickered open. Glancing downwards, Spyro saw the dragon's eyes widen in shock at the crude earthen bonds locking him in place. Fruitlessly tugging at his prison, the dragon didn't appear to notice Spyro and Cynder, instead being fully fixated on getting free as quickly as possible. And considering that Spyro was by no means a master of the earth element, that would probably happen soon, the bonds already beginning to crack under the strain.

Stepping forward, Spyro entered the dragon's field of vision, causing him to look up sharply. "Don't worry, we just want to talk." Spyro quickly interjected, hoping to diffuse the fight before it began. The dragon seemed to regard him with a reserved expression, and for one second Spyro thought he might actually consider the offer. Then, the dragon's eyes darted over to Cynder, and he immediately tensed, an expression of deep mistrust crossing his face. He was smart enough not to open fire while he was trapped, but once the bonds were broken, all bets were off.

Spyro glanced back towards Cynder, who had also risen to her feet, trying to work out how they were going to approach this situation. Looking a little stung from the dragon's cold attitude, Cynder jerked her head, signaling Spyro to come closer. Turning his back on their mysterious guest, Spyro trotted over to her, the pair putting their heads together in an impromptu conference.

"His wing is still hurt." Cynder whispered, leaning in close to Spyro. Craning his neck, Spyro saw the mostly dried blood staining the dragon's left side, an injury that had most likely been inflicted by the predator. As they talked, Spyro noted that the white dragon had resumed clawing at the earth shackles, intent only on a quick escape. Cynder continued. "If we could find some red gems to give to him, it might convince him that we don't mean any harm."

Spyro nodded in agreement. It was a good idea, and it would probably be prudent to start looking for gems anyway. After all, Cynder was hurt from the fighting as well, and Spyro would be lying if he said that he didn't want the various bumps and scrapes incurred during the final battle against Malefor healed as well. "Would you mind doing that Cynder? You've always had a sharper eye for spotting gems."

Cynder thought about it for a few seconds before nodding. "Sure, no problem. But if he gets free, just shout and I'll come right back here to help." Spyro nodded and Cynder turned away, shooting one last glance back at the white dragon as she departed, quickly vanishing in between the trees. Orienting himself back toward the base of the oak, Spyro strode back toward the other dragon, trying to figure out how best to approach him. With any luck, he should be able to calm the dragon down before Cynder returned, and they could finally get some answers.

Having already freed one of his paws, the dragon was halfway through wiggling his other trapped limb out of his prison when Spyro sat back down in front of him a little ways away. Looking back up, the other dragon performed a quick scan of the landscape, eyes darting to and fro as he searched. "Is she gone?" The white dragon asked anxiously, speaking aloud for the first time since waking.

"Yes, she's going to get some red gems for that injury of yours." Spyro replied, relived that the other dragon was at least talking. Now they were getting somewhere.

The other dragon finally looked at Spyro, his expression changing to one of curiosity as he studied the dragon seated before him. "Are you really a purple dragon? That's not a scale dye, or something like that, right?"

Spyro allowed himself a small grin. Even to dragons that were completely cut off from civilization, he was still universally recognized. "I am." Spyro inclined his head toward the other dragon. "And forgive me for asking, but I'm not entirely familiar with the element that you wield. What is it?"

The other dragon cocked his head sideways, still intently watching Spyro's every motion. "Light, of course. What else could it be?" The dragon answered, speaking as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. If anything, he seemed a little miffed that Spyro hadn't known.

Spyro nodded, absorbing the new information. His instruction under the guardians had been brief, and the subject of elements not directly under either his or Cynder's command had never come up. He supposed such things could exist, but it still came as a surprise. Deciding to shift topics, Spyro posed another question. "What's your name?"

But the other dragon wasn't paying attention. He had already gone back to picking away at the shackle that still held one of his forelegs in place. Deciding that the dragon was unlikely to bolt at this point, Spyro tapped into his elemental reserves. The earth binding crumbled, dissolving to dust in a matter of seconds. The dragon leapt to his feet, letting out an exclamation of surprise, head jerking back and forth between Spyro and the ground. "Did..did you do that?"

Spyro let out a chuckle. "Purple dragon, remember? I can use all four of the main elements at will. Fire, Electricity, Ice, and Earth."

The other dragon stared at him in amazement for the span of several seconds, the silence stretching out between them. Standing up, Spyro moved forward, offering an outstretched paw to the other dragon. "Sorry I had to trap you like that, I don't think we got off on the right foot. I'm Spyro."

The other dragon stared at the offered paw for several moments before hesitantly reaching up to clasp it with one of his own. Letting go just as quickly, the other dragon spoke. "Evanstar. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, master Spyro."

"Evanstar?" Spyro repeated, making sure that he had heard the other dragon's name right. "That's a bit of a mouthful to say. Do you have any nicknames, or..."

"What?" The other dragon stared at Spyro in complete bewilderment. "No, it's not- I don't-"

The other dragon stopped taking a deep breath, still staring at Spyro as if he had flowers sprouting from his horns. Finally, the white dragon let out a sigh, rubbing the end of his snout with one of his free paws. "Corin. My name is Corin Evanstar."

"Oh." Spyro fidgeted, suddenly aware of his error. "Sorry Corin, my mistake. And you don't have to use any formalities with my name, it's just Spyro."

Corin frowned. "Just Spyro? That's it, nothing else?"

"Nothing else." Spyro affirmed, Corin still watching him with a perplexed expression. Giving a half-hearted shrug, the light dragon turned away, presumably checking to make sure that Cynder hadn't returned yet. It was odd, Spyro reflected, that the dragon had introduced himself by his surname first. To his knowledge, no other dragons did that, not even ones as pompous as the ice guardian, Cyril. Could this dragon be someone of importance?

"So, Corin, why did you feel the need to attack my friend?" Spyro asked, his voice a little lower and more pressing. "She's not the Terror of the Skies anymore, and she wasn't going to hurt you."

Corin stared at Spyro blankly. "Listen, Spyro, I really have no idea what you're talking about. What in the world is a Terror of the Skies?"

Now it was Spyro's turn to blink in surprise. "You...don't know? About the war, about the Dark Master?"

"Of course I know about the war." Corin scoffed, pacing around the base of the oak. "We've been fighting those demons for almost nine years now. But what was that about a Dark Master? Is that their king, or something like that?"

"Hold up." Spyro said, silencing Corin's ramble. "I don't think we're quite on the same page here. What are these so called demons that you keep mentioning? The beast from earlier, the one that my friend scared off, was that one of them?"

"That?" Corin shook his head. "No, that was a Fell. You've never encountered one before? Apex predators, very ferocious and very hungry." Corin winced, carefully extending his injured wing to reveal three lateral cuts through the membrane. "They're not really a threat as long as you don't get too close. But that one Fell managed to sneak up on me after I got separated from the others. And, well..."

Others? There are more dragons out here? Maybe they weren't so lost after all. Before Spyro could ask Corin about it, the light dragon suddenly whipped around, staring at Spyro with an expression of sudden realization. "Wait a second, why are you even asking me about the demons? You're working with them already!"

"Cynder is not one of these demon." Spyro crouched low, watching Corin carefully for any sudden movements. "She's a dragon, just like you and me."

Corin's tail waved out behind him, even as the light dragon seemed to contemplate Spyro's words. "She's not?"

"No."

Corin eased up his stance slightly, but he still looked apprehensive. "But, her scales, they're dark."

"She's a shadow dragon." Spyro replied.

"Well, that's not exactly much better." Corin said, rolling his eyes.

"What was that?" Spyro shot, narrowing his eyes. What exactly was so bad about shadow dragons?

"Nothing, it was nothing." Corin quickly stammered out, perhaps sensing the hostility in the air. Birdsongs filled the air once again, as the two dragons faced each other, each unsure of how to proceed.

Spyro had a bad feeling about this. The fact that one of his very best friends had just been insulted didn't sit well with him, but he couldn't afford to get on Corin's bad side as well. He was still their only clue as to where they might have ended up. As much as he loathed to do so, Spyro decided to let the comment go and pursue another approach to ease the tensions. "Corin, could you at least tell me what these demons look like? Is that what they really are? Demons?"

"Well...not really." Corin looked away. "My dad usually calls them Defilers, and I've heard about a dozen other names used interchangeably. Truth is, we really don't know what they are." Corin finished, shooting a sidelong glance at Spyro. When the purple dragon didn't speak, Corin continued on. "And if you're right about your friend not being one, then I've only ever seen a Defiler from far away."

Corin took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he called up the memory. "They're just a little larger than you or me. And they were have these two burning red orbs for eyes, and..." Corin trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "It's hard to explain, but they're not really...here."

"Here?" Spyro asked. Corin seemed to be a rational dragon by any standards, but what was he going on about? Sure, there were no red-eyed menaces currently lurking nearby them at the moment, but Spyro had the feeling that wasn't what Corin had meant.

The white dragon nodded. "Yeah, like I said, it's hard to explain. You'd have to see one for yourself. But they're not fully corporeal, or solid, or physically here most of the time. It's like they're made of smoke, here one minute, gone the next."

Spyro frowned, pondering Corin's revelation. That didn't sound like anything either he or Cynder had ever encountered. "Can you even kill them?" He wondered aloud, still trying to envision such a monstrosity. No matter what he came up with though, Spyro got the distinct impression that his imagination simply wasn't up to the task.

"Oh, yeah, they're still killable." Corin nodded enthusiastically. "We would have lost a long time ago if they weren't. It's no easy feat, but it can be done."

"Still," Spyro pointed out. "Cynder is most certainly 'here' and she even has green eyes as opposed to red. She's not one of these Defilers you're talking about."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Corin said, absentmindedly fiddling with a rock on the ground. "It's just that we're on the edge of Defiler territory, and I though that with the dark scales..."

Shrugging it off, Corin quickly switched gears. "Now, I need some answers from you." Corin stood up straight again, speaking before Spyro could pose another question. "Where did you come from? I've never seen any dragons even close in shading to you or your friend. What, did you just...pop out of the ground or something?"

Spyro laughed. "Actually, that may not be too far from the truth. It's a long story, but I guess the answer you're looking for is that we're trying to work our way back to the city of Warfang. Do you have any idea as to where that is?"

"Warfang?" Corin seemed to consider Spyro for a moment before shrugging. "Never heard of it. But, if I were to guess, I would say that it's probably someplace across the sea."

"Across the sea?" Spyro repeated slowly, his hopes plummeting as he heard the news. They were on a completely different continent?

Corin, not noticing Spyro's disheartened expression, rambled on. "Oh wait, I think I remember Warfang from my history classes. It was the dragon capital of the world, where dragons of every element could meet and trade." Corin straightened his back, a proud smile gracing his lips. "But not us. No, the Celtacs left that society a long time ago. We thought we could build a better life for ourselves, and we did." Corin's smile dropped by a few ticks. "At least until the Defilers showed up."

But Spyro wasn't listening. His friends, his brother, everybody they he had ever known, all of them were separated from him by an entire ocean. Miles upon miles of nothing but sheer water. If he flew out in the wrong direction, there was a very real chance that he would become too exhausted to stay in the air long before reaching land. He had hoped that after all that they had gone through, he and Cynder could just settle back and relax. Instead, they were lost, completely and utterly lost. How were they ever going to get back to Warfang now?

**********••••••••••

"There, that ought to do it." Cynder pulled the last gem free of the soft earth with one last determined pull, the red crystal sparkling in the sunlight. Carefully reaching backwards, Cynder added it to the small stash nestled in between her wing and back. Finding the gems had been harder than she had initially imagined, and she had just now finally got enough to heal the mystery dragon's wounds. At least, she hoped it would be enough. It had already taken her long enough to find gems to heal her own wounds, and she was sure at this point that the immediate area was tapped dry.

Reorienting herself, she struck off back towards where she had last left Spyro. She hadn't heard anything that might resemble a fight, so maybe Spyro had managed to convince the other dragon to calm down. And if he hadn't, then maybe the gems could always change his mind.

As she walked through the woods, Cynder allowed her mind to wander a little. Namely, to the conversation that she and Spyro had been having just before their friend had woken up. She recalled back to the words of comfort that he had spoken to her, a light blush reddening her scales. It had been so sweet of him to try and comfort her like that, especially when she really needed it. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a crazy idea that he might just reciprocate the feelings that she had developed for him. Cynder felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered the possibility. Once they had sorted out their situation with the mystery dragon, she would ask him. She knew that she had to.

A flash of red out of the corner of her eye caught Cynder's attention, causing the dragoness to slow to a stop. Turning her head, Cynder squinted at the patch of bushes, trying to confirm what she had seen. It had only been for a second, but she was positive it had been something bright red, shining through the leaves of the bush. Odd, she could have sworn that she had already been this way, and that she had already nabbed all the red gems in the area. Chalking it up as an oversight on her part, Cynder trotted over to the patch of bushes flourishing around the base of another towering tree, the leaves whispering in the wind the only sound as she approached, the nearby birds eerily silent.

Careful not to spill the gems she had already gathered, Cynder pealed aside the plentiful branches, peering inside to get a glimpse at the elusive gems. There was nothing there, only more branches and leaves, nothing like the bright flash of red she was sure that she saw. After checking around the bush one last time, Cynder backed away, trying to see what may have possibly caused her to think that there were gems there. But the bush only remained just as green and unremarkable as before, devoid of anything that might resemble red gems.

Cynder lingered there for a few seconds longer before finally shaking her head and turning away. Maybe she just needed a good night's sleep, she was starting to see things. And besides, she had better get back to the others, she would just have to make do with the gems she already got.

If Cynder had happened to glance upwards towards the upper branches of the tree, she might have seen it. Two gleaming red orbs, staring down from one of the upper branches, silently monitoring every last movement the dragoness below made. Quite suddenly, the eyes blinked shut, and the presence vanished, leaving only a set of deep gouges in the wood behind as evidence that it had ever been there in the first place.

Unaware of the close encounter, Cynder pressed on, closing in on where Spyro and the other dragon were sure to be. As she stepped back around the trunk of another patch of trees, the two dragons slid into view, both of them casually seated at the base of the oak. Catching sight of her, the white dragon quickly jumped upright, but he didn't run or otherwise charge up another elemental attack. Taking that as a sign of progress, Cynder walked up to the two dragons, dipping her wing to let the red gems spill out onto the ground before the white dragon.

"Here, I hope these help with your wing." Cynder forced herself to relax, trying to appear as friendly as possible. They needed this dragon to trust them if they were going to get anywhere.

He seemed to regard her cautiously for a few moments before hesitantly reaching forward to take the gems. Red energy leaped and jumped up his limbs, targeting spots on his left wing and head. Opening his now unblemished yellow wing, the dragon spared a short glance toward Cynder. "Thanks." He said gruffly, folding his wing back into its resting position.

"It was no problem." Cynder waited a beat before holding out her paw toward the white dragon. "I'm Cynder by the way."

The dragon glanced between Spyro and Cynder, apparently debating over what to do. Not making any move to shake Cynder's paw, he finally signed and spoke aloud. "Evanstar." He said, still not making any move to shake paws with her. Still, it was as much as she could expect from someone who had fought her just an hour previous.

Realizing that the white dragon had no intention of of shaking paws, Cynder slowly lowered the offered appendage. Determined not to let it get to her, she put on her most pleasant expression. "Evanstar?" Cynder tilted her head, meeting the other dragon's stare. "That's a rather unusual name."

"It's not-" The dragon let out an exasperated sigh. "Evanstar is my family name. Corin is my first name. Do neither of you go by your family name? It's common curtesy!"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged a wry look. "This is going to sound crazy," Spyro began. "But I was sort of raised by dragonflies. I don't have a family name. Like I said before, its just Spyro."

Corin stared in blatant disbelief, completely thrown off by Spyro's statement. Cynder quickly looked away, not quite willing to reveal why she didn't have a family name. It might put a bit of a damper on things, considering that she had never quite had a family. Thankfully, Corin didn't seem keen on pressing for details.

"Anyways," Spyro said, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his forepaws, looking uncomfortable with at Corin's unwavering stare. "You were saying something about a recon mission Corin."

Blinking away the surprise, Corin nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's why I'm out here. Trying to get a better picture of what's been going on the past few days."

"All by yourself?" Cynder asked, raising her eyebrows. Sure, Corin certainly knew a thing or two about fighting, but there was no telling how many more beasts were out there, waiting for the opportunity to strike. She and Spyro at least had each other to rely on, but one slip up on Corin's part could spell disaster. If she hadn't shown up when she did...

"No, not by myself." Corin gave a forced laugh. "I was part of one of the scouting groups that were sent out to investigate the source of the recent earthquakes. It's brought all fighting to a practical halt, so my dad thought it would be a good opportunity to get out of the city. It was going pretty well too, until I ran into that Fell."

Cynder nodded, listening closely to Corin's story. It made sense, the destructive forces that Malefor had unleashed were likely to have far reaching effects, even as far as...where ever they currently were. But at the same time, Corin had mentioned being part of an organized scouting group, and of a nearby city. They may not be near Warfang, but at least there was someplace they could rest and recuperate.

"And these light dragons, the Celtacs, do you think they could help find a way back to Warfang?" Spyro pressed, studying the white dragon's reactions carefully.

"You? Definitely. Her..." Corin glanced over to Cynder, trailing off mid sentence.

"And what's wrong with me, exactly?" Cynder challenged, narrowing her eyes at Corin as he fidgeted nervously.

"Nothing, it's just..." Corin glanced side to side, taking his time with finding the right words. "Shadow dragons have a bit of a reputation, that's all."

"What reputation?" Cynder growled.

"Nothing, I was just saying that shadow dragons are..."

"Are what?"

"Are usually liars and thieves." Corin finished. Cynder glowered at the light dragon. How in the world could he even draw that conclusion? Irritation at the comment flared up within her, and she only managed to just stop herself from acting on it. To even assume something like that just based on her element was...it was...

Perhaps realizing what he said, Corin quickly attempted to mend the situation. "Not that you are, or anything like that, I was just saying that as far as most shadow dragons go..." Noticing the two pointed stares directed his way, Corin's voice slowly died out, leaving them sitting in silence once again. This wasn't going well.

"Right." Cynder said, standing up suddenly. "How far away is this city?"

"It should be about an hour's flight away." Corin replied quickly, looking to avoid any further activation on Cynder's part. From the way that his eyes seemed to dart from her to Spyro, she could tell that he was worried that she might do something. Perhaps he was still afraid...

"Alright, Spyro, let's go." Cynder stood up, not looking at Corin as she stretched her wings.

Looking up, Spyro blinked in surprise. "Cynder? Are you alright? I mean-"

"I'm fine." Cynder shot back. "You, Corin, lead. We're going to this city."

"Alright, if you say so. Just," Corin paused. "You know what, never mind. You did kinda save me from that Fell, so I'll try to put in a good word for you."

"Good. Let's go." Cynder stepped away from the tree, spreading her wings in preparation for flight. Before she could launch off, Cynder felt a tap on her shoulder. Spinning around, she saw Spyro standing there, looking slightly worried.

"Cynder, are you alright?" He asked, his tone and expression dripping with obvious concern for her.

Cynder took a deep breath, trying to get a handle on her emotions. Sure, there were things that she regretted in the past, and things that she would never live down. But at very least, those would be some solid grounds for accusations against her, not basing things purely off of her native element. She was still mad, but at very least it didn't look like Corin had meant to intentionally offend her. It would have helped if he actually apologized though.

"It's nothing Spyro." She finally replied. He didn't appear to be convinced, but he nevertheless backed off, giving her some much needed space.

"Hey, are you two ready to go?" It was Corin, who had also stepped back out of the shade to stand next to the dragons. His eyes seemed to linger on Cynder for a second longer before he looked away, without even the barest hint of saying that he was sorry. After sharing another understanding glance, Spyro and Cynder both nodded, and the light dragon spread his wings in preparation to take off.

Within moments, all three dragons were up in the air, flapping hard as they skimmed over the treetops. Falling in behind Corin, the group pushed further west, leaving the oak tree far behind them as they flew on. Still stung by Corin's almost casual comments, Cynder silently fumed. She hoped the rest of these Celtacs didn't share similar views, but deep down she knew that that was probably too much to hope for. The best they could do at this point was try and figure out a way home as quickly as possible, before they were sucked into some other conflict. But, perhaps that was unavoidable as well.

You couldn't get something for nothing. That was a given rule, with absolutely no negotiations. If they were going to secure help from these light dragons, it stood to reason that they first needed to give something in return. Something like aid against whatever foe Corin and his kin were currently battling against.

So, they might think she was a liar and a thief? "Well," Cynder thought. "Let's see if we can't change that." After all, whatever these demons were, it couldn't be anything worse than what she and Spyro had already faced. Right?

Far behind, almost lost to view, the oak tree where the dragons had talked stood proud and tall amongst the other trees in the forest. And, concealed in the shadows of the upper branches, two flickering red eyes stared out, the owner having listened to every word that had been spoken beneath the tree. If it choose to, the being could have ended the new threat right then and there. But instead, it would bid its time. It would alert the others of its ilk, telling them of the newcomers to the valley. They would grow stronger, massing the darkness around them, waiting for just the right opportunity.

And then, when the moment presented itself, they would strike.