Jacy: So this update is late…and I mean REALLY LATE.

Blane: *snores*

Jacy: *sigh* Well, I've kept you all waiting long enough. Cue Disclaimer!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the copyrighted things I use. I do, however, own my OCs and this story.

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Chapter 2: Suspicious Confusion

Normally, Blane didn't dream; he usually had nightmares, often about the night his father was killed, or he didn't dream at all. However, that night was different. After he had fallen asleep, everything started out as it usually did; his thoughts were muddled and confused before forming into something understandable. When they had, he was surprised at what he saw.

He stood outside the huge walls of a great city, the gate as large as a small mountain and the walls even higher. The doors were made of a reinforced dark wood with ornate gold carvings that also formed the lock with an enchanted lava-form that connected the two sides. The walls were made of creamy-white stones that looked like some of them had been replaced recently. He took a small step forward and suddenly he had moved inside the walls and found himself standing in a marketplace in the city.

The stalls sold a variety of different things, from fruits to meats to armor to jewelry and everything far and in-between, though none of them had any merchants at them. Instead, there was a mob of dragons, bipedal cheetahs, and even moles frozen in time mid-run, attempting to flee from the center of the marketplace, the spot where Blane now stood. Turning slowly, the half-dragon found himself looking up at a startling sight.

A large, pitch-black dragon had been paused as he had reared up on his hind-legs, wings spread wide and jaws open mid-roar as he had likely attempted to terrify the market-goers, and obviously succeeded. His dark scales seemed to radiate corruption and darkness, and his red eyes were full of malicious intent. A blackness seeped off of him, fluctuating in place despite everything else being frozen. The teen took a step back away from the unknown dragon, and his surroundings changed once again.

Now he stood inside a room in an unknown building, though it was made of the same stone as the walls and the street, so he assumed it was somewhere in the city, still. It was a bedroom, he noticed after a moment, lit only by a few candles scattered around the room. He turned slightly to find himself snout-to-snout with a dragoness he didn't know.

Her scales were a light-blue, while her underbelly was a darker-blue. She had translucent fins on the backs of her forelegs and along her spine. He could see that her tailtip was devoid of any special tip, and her wings were dark-blue with semi-transparent membranes and were flared open slightly. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were dusted with a light red. She seemed nervous and had frozen in place as she was leaning forward, as if to…kiss him.

Frowning in confusion, he made to step around her when he found himself in a new place, completely unlike the ones before. Now he seemed to be standing on the air itself and was inside a strange castle. He was in a throne room of sorts, with a giant, partially broken throne at the far end. Just a few feet below him, though, was a startling sight.

It was…him, in completely-human form, fighting a dragon with scales darker than darkness itself, using only his father's sword to fight it. He was wearing damaged armor the same color of his scales, several large gashes in the chestplate revealing his scales underneath. The dragon he was fighting was massive, at least five times his size, and he had been releasing a jet of black fire large enough to engulf the Blane he was fighting when time had stopped for them.

"What the hell is going on?!" the half-dragon demanded of his dream, his voice echoing in the silent space. Instead of a response, the dreamscape shattered like glass around him. He immediately felt gravity reassert itself as he started to fall into a freefall. He opened his wings to at least slow his fall, but to no avail as nothing changed.

"Darkness corrupts this one's mind," a chorus of male and female voices spoke in unison from all around him as an image of the black dragon in the marketplace flashed before his eyes, "Seek him out and free him from this bind. Without this one, Ragnarok shall require more time."

Before Blane could even open his mouth to respond, a bright light engulfed his vision. It blinded him for several moments until…

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…he jolted awake, finding that he'd rolled onto his back in his sleep. He saw the remains of the fire just in front of him, albeit upside down, and rolled onto his stomach. His wings felt sore from having slept on them and he winced as he tucked them against his back, trying not to strain them.

As he got up to stretch, he thought over his bizarre dream. Who had been telling him to free a dragon he'd never seen before? Who was that dragon, and Ragnarok as well, for that matter? And the dragoness he'd seen, what did she have to do with this? The whole fiasco was more than the half-dragon could comprehend this early and it was beginning to make his head hurt.

He heard a dark chuckle echo from nowhere and immediately fell into a defensive stance, scanning his surroundings. He couldn't see any possible threats, only the still slumbering pair of Spyro and Cynder. Frowning, he sat down and forced himself to relax, closing his eyes. When he opened them, a new dragon sat in front of him, but it was one he unfortunately knew all too well.

He was a fully-grown male dragon, easily dwarfing Blane in size, and his scales were a bloody crimson. He was semi-transparent, and had black sigils and markings covering his body, adding to the malicious air he carried around him. He also had several scars in various places, but the most prominent ones were a large, star-like burn on the front of his plated chest and a gash along his throat that looked self-inflicted. His wings and underbelly were the same color as his scales while the four pairs of horns he had on his head grew to form a sort-of crown were a firey-orange and the spines along his back were the same color. His shoulders had three crimson spikes growing upward out of both of them, as well. The top of his tail held a serrated, orange-red blade that had a glowing black sigil in the middle of it on both sides. His crimson gaze locked onto the smaller drake while a dark grin spread across his lips.

"Well, well, well," the red dragon said calmly, "Finally deigning to look upon your prisoner again, boy? And what's this? Have you finally decided to accept the more powerful side of your lineage?"

"What do you want, Cain?" Blane asked coldly, glaring at the larger dragon, "I don't have time for your games."

"You know what I want: my freedom," Cain answered, narrowing his eyes. When Blane opened his mouth for a retort, the crimson cut him off, "But seeing as that's beyond both of our powers, I'll take whatever time outside as I can get, I suppose. Now tell me, where are we and what happened to you?"

"Why should I tell you anything?" the silver responded suspicious, "You're nothing but trouble, Cain, always have been. What would you get out of it?"

"I would get very little, save the sating of my curiosity and knowledge that might aid our continued survival," the entity admitted, beginning to fade, "But we'll have to continued this later, your companions are stirring."

Within another blink of his eyes, the crimson dragon had disappeared from his view entirely, receding back into the part of his mind that he resided in. Sighing in mild frustration, the silver turned to see that Cain had been right; Spyro and Cynder were waking up. Deciding to worry about the crimson dragon and the dream later, he made his way over to greet them.

He noted that they slept very close, with the purple's wing over his companion. Their tails had intertwined while they slept, showing an intimate closeness. Spyro woke up first, yawning contentedly as he lifted his head. He didn't notice Blane at first; instead he turned his attention to the still-sleeping Cynder. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, beginning to rouse her from her slumber. She didn't open her eyes, though a smile crept across her face, still feigning sleep. Chuckling, the male leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. As he began to pull away, she followed him, unwilling to let him go. After several moments, Blane cleared his throat and the two pulled away quickly, embarrassed.

"How…" Spyro coughed, his throat dry, "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," he chuckled, shaking his head, "Would you two like some alone time before we leave?"

Before the purple could respond, Cynder spoke up first, "Maybe we would. Does that bother you?"

Spyro sputtered, wide-eyed, unable to find words, while the silver retorted, "Of course not. By all means, go ahead. I'll go find breakfast while you two enjoy yourselves."

As he turned to go hunting, the female called to him, "If you come back early, you're welcome to watch!"

Blane didn't respond with more than a snort of laughter before he disappeared into the forest, while Spyro looked at the dragoness with a mortified expression as he said, "Cynder!"

"I was only kidding, Spyro," she teased, kissing his snout, "I just needed him gone so that we could talk."

"About what?" he asked, frowning.

"I was already awake for a while," she admitted, turning to look at the spot Blane had left through, "He was mumbling in his sleep, something about a city and darkness. And when he woke up, he started talking to someone who wasn't there. I'm starting to think…maybe he's lying to us, Spyro, maybe he's…dangerous."

"C'mon, Cynder, everyone has their quirks," the purple responded, looking at her, "Besides, we don't know what he's been through before now, or how the fall affected him. It's not our place to judge him."

"Maybe, but he's still hiding something," she said, looking back to the male.

Neither expected Blane to respond from behind them, "Who's hiding something?"

The pair jumped to their feet, startled, and turned to find the silver drake just behind them, an amused look on his face. Beside them was a fairly large buck, its neck bent at an odd angle and there were a few long cuts on its flank, likely from Blane's blade-tipped tail.

"Don't worry about it," Cynder said quickly, narrowing her eyes, "I thought you were going to give us some alone time."

"And I did," the silver responded, "But you also invited me to watch, remember?"

"How did you find a deer that fast?" Spyro chimed in, desperate to change the subject.

"I've been learning how to track game most of my life," Blane explained calmly, turning his gaze over to the purple, "Wasn't very hard to find one, especially since there was a herd of them close by."

"Well, we should eat and head out," Spyro said, looking between the two, "It'll take us a few hours to fly all the way to Warfang."

"Fly?" Blane responded, taken aback by the word, "You mean, we aren't walking?"

"Of course we're flying," Cynder answered while Spyro went about cooking the deer to a more edible temperature, "It would take too long if we walked the whole way. Is that a problem?"

"Of course not," he said quickly, frowning, "I'm just…not the best flier, is all."

"Well, dig in," Spyro spoke up, having finished cooking the deer. The silver sat back as the pair ate their share, his brow scrunched in thought.

'This isn't good,' he thought to himself, 'Sure I've glided before, but that was when I only had two legs, not four. And even then, actual flight was beyond me!'

'This ought to be amusing,' Cain's voice echoed in his mind, chuckling.

'Shut up,' Blane told him, gritting his teeth in frustration. The malicious drake only laughed harder.

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Jacy: And there it is!

Blane: I have to FLY?!

Cain: This will be great *laughs*

Jacy: You do realize, if he falls, you feel it, too, right?

Cain: …

Jacy: And you'll do fine, Blane. To the readers, R&R, please! I thrive on REVIEWS!