A/N: Way too damn lazy to reply to anything right now...reviews, messages, whatever. I feel like crap. Have a oneshot, I'ma go lie down or something...
Thanks, reviewers. And thanks for the ideas, everyone. They shall be written...just as soon as I stop feeling like hell.
Nightmare
Rushing force tugged unrelentingly at his body, threatening to drag him into oblivion. His claws dug into the grooves between the stones under his feet and he lowered his head against the pulling force. It was stronger than any wind he'd ever had to fly against, but he fought it with all that was left of his strength.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a frail, black form sliding across the broken stone floor, towards the sucking void. Her crimson wings were tossed limply by the rushing wind as she was dragged tail-first to her doom. Instantly, his eyes widened in horror.
"No!"
He released his anchoring grip seconds before the limp dragoness disappeared into the bright, glowing portal. Spreading wings, he leapt, and this time the wind worked in his favour, pulling him all too eagerly after her. Energy crackled and sparked across his scales as he passed through the portal.
Seconds later, he was floating in void.
White light stretched all around him, interspersed with flashes of violent purple. The wind continued to rush, dragging him down into oblivion, but he didn't fight against it. He had already spotted Cynder far below him – her black scales stark against their white surroundings.
Desperately he dived after her, straining with all his might to reach her as she fell into the void. But no matter how fast he flew – or was he falling? – she was always mockingly out of reach. He could see her delicate face, eyes closed as though in sleep, but he could not reach her.
She was falling into void, white light embracing, engulfing her, oblivious to his yells. Then, without a sound, she faded into the nothingness, and he was falling alone, screaming her name.
Spyro awoke with a start, shaking like a leaf in a storm. It took several long minutes for him to realise where – and when – he was. His trembling, aching body lay upon the smooth stone floor of the temple, and he was surrounded on all sides by familiar, welcoming walls. The exhausted purple dragon uttered a relieved sigh, but he could not escape that nagging feeling in the back of his head.
Glancing around the room, which was gloomy with night, he spotted a familiar glowing form asleep on a bed of leaves. But it was not Sparx whom he was worried about. Anxiously, the dream still vivid in his mind, his eyes searched the room for another form. At first he thought he was alone, until he spotted a small, dark shape lying in a shaft of moonlight nearby.
Taking a deep breath, Spyro heaved himself to his feet and promptly fell back down again. He grimaced at the aches and trembles that assaulted his body, and wondered why his legs refused to take his weight. He supposed the fight in Convexity had robbed him of more strength than he had thought.
Nevertheless, determined to check on the sleeping black dragoness and dismiss that horrible nightmare, Spyro pushed himself up once more. This time his legs held, and he took several slow, shaky steps across the room. He sat down heavily when he reached her side, panting at the exertion of merely walking a few steps.
As he observed the sleeping dragoness, her peaceful face and the gentle rise and fall of her sides, he felt a rush of relief sweep through him. It had all been a nightmare. Cynder was here, and she was safe. The purple dragon allowed himself a tired smile as he lay down beside her.
Her dark scales were cold against his own, but he didn't mind. As long as she was safe, that was all that mattered. Smiling faintly, Spyro let his head fall to his paws and his heavy eyelids drift shut. It didn't take long for the soft beating of Cynder's heart to lull the exhausted purple dragon to sleep.
