Hey! I'm back with a spanking new chapter! wahoo!
Just a few things before we begin. First I want to thank my big sister for giving me a hand with every chapter of this story. Every time I finish a chapter I drag her to my room to read what I have written, and she does a wonderful job and fixing my mistakes. I was talking about this with someone here a while back, and I told him/her that what you see here is the outcome of the original writing and a LOT of editing. I thank her for all her help.
Which leads me to my second point: I want you guys to give me a hand with the reviews you leave on this fic. It would be awesome if you would give me your honest opinion about my writing, character development, and story progression. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
Anyway, enjoy the reading.
Chapter IV:
Cynder had hastily strutted out into the hallways of the temple by the time Spyro caught up. He walked behind Cynder, trying to follow her as best as he could, but her steps were quick and heavy. She turned left and right, passing by rooms and temple workers with great inattention. Everything slowly came to life as the morning sun began to peek into the temple, yet Cynder kept her head bowed, attempting to block everything around her out.
"Cyn?" Spyro asked as he doubled his walking speed to reach her side. As he stepped by her side, he looked to his partner. Her eyes were half closed and her brow was pushed towards the center of her bridge. Her lips were sealed tight and her nostrils flared.
"Cyn?" he asked again, catching her attention as he looked to her side.
"What?" Cynder asked in a pugnacious manner.
"What's wrong?" he inquired. The two dragons arrived to their room and incautiously entered. Spyro stopped near the entrance as Cynder took a few steps in front of the dragon. She rolled her eyes as she turned around to face him.
"'What's wrong?'" she repeated his question, angered. "Everything…" she answered, shaking her head. "Everything is wrong." Spyro glanced to the ground.
"I… I don't understand." The purple savior said as he looked to her again with eyes of sorrow. Cynder, brutally disturbed by Spyro's soft spoken words, stamped a forepaw on the floor.
"How don't you understand?" Cynder asked, as she thrust her chest forward. "The people of Warfang treat us like old garbage, the new council uses you like a tool, and we're just little faces for the whole world to criticize." The black dragoness began to pant heavily as the purple dragon made eye contact with the dragoness. Spyro sat and remained quiet as disappointment filled his chest and weighed him down. His frown only deepened as Cynder huffed. "And you allow them to treat you that way, which is worse!"
"That's not true, Cyn," he replied as he took a deep, heavy breath. "We do everything possible to make them feel satisfied. What they think of us is beyond us."
"But why, Spyro?" Cynder snapped. "Why do we break our backs for these people when they clearly don't want us around?" Spyro kept his silence again, as Cynder began to walk back and forth. The dragoness looked over the room, spotting Spyro's made and unused bed. Bothered by this single fact, Cynder snorted. Suddenly, she stopped and looked at her partner again. "I mean, I can understand why they would hate and use me for what I did; but you? You weren't even able to sleep on your own bed because of their damned deadlines!" Spyro's eyes caught hers as he shot a glare.
"I decided to do them that favor, Cyn," he retorted. "I wanted to have today as clear of task as possible." The dragon puffed as he stepped closer to the dragoness. He thought back to the words she had just spoken. The fact that she degraded herself again bothered him deeply. He felt anger fill him, but he tried to hold it in. "And don't you blame yourself for what you did," he stated. Cynder stepped away, turning her back on him.
"Regardless of what I think about myself," she started. "They still blame me."
"You shouldn't care," Spyro responded. "You shouldn't care about what they think. Cynder, we've been through this before." Cynder spun on her two back legs to face the dragon.
"I don't," she spoke in a harsh, deep voice. "I do my best to not care every day… But Spyro, they put blame on you as well." Spyro's upper eye lids half dropped with disapproval. "Haven't you heard them? They eat you for allegedly being power-hungry. They owe you everything, and give you nothing."
"It's not that bad," Spyro replied. "Whenever we're out helping, they're always grateful."
"Yeah," Cynder snapped. "The ones who need it desperately, not the bastards we have to deal with the most."
"We just need to gain thier trust," Spyro retorted. "They don't believe in u for what happened in the past, but we can fix that."
"Can we?" she asked as her temper escalated. "The only thing they see when they look to me is the Terror of the Skies that slew their people and made their lands barren; then to look to you, and see The Savior of Fools that decided to take the Terror in. Spyro, some still think that I'm out to do Malefor's bidding. The rumor is spread through every sensationalist news print out in the city." The purple dragon snorted as a burst of anger filled him.
"Do you think that should bother us?" Spyro asked. "Cynder, I know what they say, but I don't allow it to get to me." He dropped his head down, as he tried to ease himself. Noticed his action, Cynder glared.
"But what if they take action?" Cynder replied. "What if they decided that we are targets? It's glares and scowls for now, but for how long?" The dragoness turned, and walked towards the open window in the room. With a small leap, she propped her upper body on the window stand. Looking to the busy city streets below brought her worry and sorrow, so she looked to the skies, gazing at the clouds that traveled high above. "What if they try to hurt you?" she asked, as her eyes moved back to the dragon.
"We have friends," Spyro replied in a softer voice. "Not everyone hates us." The male dragon then smiled, looked to his bed, and walked in its direction. Cynder kept her eye on him as he lifted some of the hay bedding next the wall, making a small mess. She dropped from the window stand as he continued to move the bedding about, digging his paw deep into the center of the pile. At last he stopped short and began to lift his whole figure up. Carefully, he took a secret item from the hay with him and rose to face the dragoness. With a gentle, caring glance, Spyro reached the dragoness.
The purple dragon sat on his rump and put his entire weight on his two hind legs and tail. Lifting one of Cynder's paws, he opened it and placed the treasure he held.
"More importantly," Spyro softly said. "We have each other." Cynder eyed the contents of her paw. She looked upon a necklace of fine and mystical craftsmanship. The lace was of woven long grass, interlaced with such skill to make it look like the most decorous of fine-rope. The grass itself remained as green as when it was picked, and small lines of wheat about the lace gave the effect that it was gilded. As a pendant, a vibrant dragonflower of pinks and reds decorated the gift. It gave off a soft light, as if enchanted by magic. Cynder stared at the present with eyes of astonishment and delight. The work dedicated to the treasure could be appreciated with a careful eye: if observed attentively, small patterns of two dragons flying together could be seen engraved along the rope.
Drawn away from all concerns, Cynder looked to Spyro. The male's eyes were on the gift, but slowly they rose to meet hers. His soft smile, which had brought her anger and worry before, now scared all fears away. Like magic, her problems drifted off like sand in the breeze.
"Did you make this?" she asked cradling the gift with the greatest of care. He nodded.
"My mom taught me how," he answered. "We would spend a lot of time together while Sparx and dad were out. Since I was so clumsy, she thought teaching me a careful craft would help me, so I learned." Cynder could not help but to smile at his words. The simplicity of his nature was all but precious to the female.
She then thought him as a whole. The male dragon was more than simplicity; to Cynder, he was courage, strength, patience, wisdom, and love. The dragon was pure light to her.
"Do you like it?" the young dragon asked, rubbing his forearm. Driven by a force unrestrained, Cynder leaped to the dragon and pressed her head against his forehead. The black dragoness felt a sudden rush of emotions, which she tried to resist; but tears started to roll down her muzzle. Spyro looked down to the dragoness, as he felt a wet sensation on his chest. "Cynder, are you okay?"
"Spyro, I'm sorry for what I said before," she spoke as clearly as she could. "I'm sorry that I called you weak… I'm sorry." Spyro lifted his paw up to her shoulder as he kissed her forehead.
"You don't have to be sorry, Cynder," Spyro replied. "I understand what you fear: I'm afraid of it too; but whenever I'm afraid, I think of you and it all goes away. We have each other, and that's what counts." Cynder pressed her head tighter against Spyro as she closed her eyes. She felt his breathing with all her senses. The raise and drop of his chest had a precious and mechanic rhythm; the sound of air entering and leaving his lungs was a melody of healthy life to her ears; the soft grazing of his scaled upon her tender face eased the dragoness greatly. She smelled the dragon, and allowed the natural scent of his sweat to fill her. Cynder did not know why, but she always perceived a sweetness in his aroma that intoxicated her.
They remained in silence, feeling the life and energy within each other, when an insidious image crawled into the black dragoness' mind. She suddenly imagined not having the sound of his breathing, the pulse of his heart, or the rise and fall of his chest anymore. She imagined Spyro dead; and as she did, her whole form quaked. The thought grew in magnitude as she began to figure that his downfall would be the city.
"Spyro," she said in a trembling voice. "Why did we come back here after we saved the world? We could have left, and disappeared for good." Spyro glanced back down to Cynder as she began to shed tears again.
"Because of Sparx, and the Guardians," he replied frowning. "Because the ancestors knew that we still have a mission to fulfill."
"Haven't we done enough?" Cynder asked.
"We have," Spyro agreed. "But many still suffer. We have to do what we can to save them." With that, Cynder raised her head.
"If we do," she began staring at the dragon directly. "If we have no choice but to be the servants of fate, promise me one thing." Spyro nodded, conceding.
"Anything." Cynder moved her body closer to his. Their lips met, she kissed him like she never would ever again. Her passion overflowed.
"Promise me," Cynder spoke between kisses. "That you will not perish." Spyro pushed his lips against hers with more intensity than ever before.
"I promise, Cynder," Spyro answered still kissing the dragoness. "And I promise to be your protector."
"I'll promise to be your guardian," Cynder replied.
"Then I'll promise to be your lover," remarked Spyro with more passionate kisses.
"And I'll promise I'll be your friend," Cynder countered.
"Then I'll be your mate," Spyro retorted.
"Then I'll see you get jiggy with it!" The dragons shot their glance up to the left of them as they heard the third voice. Spyro dropped on to his side abashed and Cynder growled as they both looked at Sparx. The dragoness' teeth were fully bared, as being barged in on two times in a row began to seem like the culmination of bad luck.
"Sparx!" they shouted in unison. Enflamed with anger, and irritated by the sole fact that he flew at such a distance from her, Cynder grabbed a vase from the nearest stand and threw it at him.
"Woah!" Sparx shouted as he dodged the large projectile that exploded into shards on the ceiling. "I know not being able to catch a break is bad and all, but that is taking it a little too far."
"What are you doing here?" Cynder asked between her teeth.
"Umm… I don't know?" he said sarcastically. "Maybe I was taking a little nap in that corner when the two of you barged in here." The dragonfly pointed to a corner which, by unsavory misfortune, Cynder had not paid attention to as they had walked in. She hissed and began to curse their bad luck. "Geez, find a room."
"This is our room!" Cynder shouted.
"Well, then look for an empty room!" As Sparx looked to the infuriated dragoness, he chuckled. "And calm down or you'll pop a vein."
"How long have you been awake, Sparx?" Spyro asked out of pure curiosity.
"Hmm… Maybe… perhaps from the moment the two of you barged in here like giant grunt worms." Cynder violently shifted her whole body down as she prepared to leap into flight when a knock was heard on the door. The three inhabitants of the room stopped mid action –including Sparx, who crossed his arms as to protect himself from what was to come of Cynder's fury- as they heard the voice of one of the female temple servants.
"Spyro, Cynder, Grazen suggests you to have breakfast before your conference. The cooks have prepared hot cakes and fruits for the two of you," she said from behind the door. Cynder eased her stance and stood up, Spyro rose from the ground, and Sparx lowered his hands as they heard the woman walk away.
"Well, see!" Sparx spoke nervously. "We all have to go eat out there where you won't kill me." Sparx flew towards the door. "I wonder if they have something good for me too," he said as the door opened and he left.
Looking stand where the vase once existed, Cynder noticed that she had luckily placed her present there. She picked it up and walked towards Spyro. Without asking, the purple dragon grabbed the gift and helped to put it around her neck. All the time he chuckled.
"We really can't catch a break, can we?"
"Nope," Cynder responded coldly, succumbing to the evil fate that held them. Spyro clipped the back on the necklace, and pecked her on the lips.
"Well then," Spyro laughed. "Let's go." With that, the two dragons left the room.
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