Chapter 7: Companions

By: Dardarax

Disclaimer: I, Dardarax, do not own Spyro, Cynder, the Guardians, the Dragon Temple, Warfang or any other character or place belonging to the Spyro franchise. So a man walks into a bar and orders a drink. A shepherd walks over to the man and asks him where he came from, the man doesn't reply, continuing to drink his beer. The shepherd, curious, asks why he's being so sheepish. The man then gets up and kicks Dardarax in the crotch for making such a bad pu-UUUUGH! Ooooooowwww… My characters are listed at the bottom…

The feeling of Torch's paw on her flank sent quakes though her entire body. Voltlyn did her best to keep a calm face but his touch caused her stomach to revolt. The red dragon bellowed out laughter along with his gang, openly talking of their most recent spree of beatings, crimes and plots while sitting in the kitchen, not fearing the cowering crowd about them. Torch pulled her closer, his grip firm like a vice, holding her there despite her vain attempts to escape.

The laughter stopped and Torch turned to gaze at her, his muzzle wide and his eyes filled with the most loathsome of fire. Voltlyn shut her eyes and pretended not to notice the way he looked at her. Bile rose into her throat as his paw ran over her chest and stomach, lower and lower and lower…

Torch led the way through the hallway, Voltlyn stumbling along behind him, as if chained. Her limbs moved forward, towards the door, unrelenting despite all her attempts to turn and flee. She could see his excitement clearly and hot wetness trickled down her cheeks. Voltlyn held back a sob, Torch opening the door where a bed of nails lay. She stepped in, screaming the whole way as she felt his paws and chest on her once again.

Voltlyn's own shriek awoke her and she tumbled from her bed into a heap. She curled up into a ball to protect herself as she waited for the claws and the snarls; the fangs and the tail. It took her several minutes of sobbing before she realized that they never came and frightfully looked around. There was no sign of her master anywhere. Relief flooded through her and she collapsed to the ground to whimper weakly. Another dozen minutes passed before she rose and wiped the tears away.

A greasy itch slicked her scales and she hastily stumbled towards the small tub curtained off in a small closet by the bed. She turned the valve and fell into it, still sniffling as she let the hot water run over her. Voltlyn scrubbed at herself lightly, the feeling of him against her refusing to go away. It was only once the tub was filled near to the brink that Voltlyn found the will to turn the water off. For a while she just floated, staring up at the ceiling and letting the feeling of weightlessness consume her.

The grey dawn light blossomed into full morning, though Voltlyn's wide and unfocused eyes did not notice the brightening colours for a long time. It was a drop of chill water onto her tail that woke her. The hot water had already cooled, causing Voltlyn to shiver and draw her fully back to reality. With a sigh she pulled herself up, shaking herself dry.

"I still think of him as my master," she said finally, looking back to her bed of brightly coloured pillows, now scattered throughout her room. "Even after nearly a year I can't escape him."

Voltlyn swallowed back another sob and shook her head firmly. She would not let herself shed another tear. Not today. She drained the tub and walked back out into her room with as much resolve as she could muster. She made her way over to the music box that stood in the corner of her room and picked out her favourite crystal. She looked it over; wanting to make sure that the rare device wasn't damaged before she inserted the crystal into the slot. Voltlyn sat back as the old, battered machine thrummed to life, the music floating freely about the room.

The string and woodwind sent her spiraling back. She could see a warm yellow face, an older dragon spinning her about the room in a crazy dance. She could see the tools and instruments of his craft and feel the wood in her paws as she held it steady for him. And she could feel a satisfying reverberation in her paws as the box shook from each hammer fall or grind of a saw.

The music ended and Voltlyn opened her eyes and wiped away the moisture, smiling fondly. She removed the crystal and placed it back into the box, whispering her thanks to her father once more. Then, feeling light of heart she strode over to her wardrobe to find something more stylish to wear. She picked out a pair of silver bangles for her horns and a wispy cloak to drape over her back. Voltlyn struggled into the later but managed without any help. Once she was done she looked into the small mirror on her wall, examining how the accessories looked.

In the mirror Voltlyn could just make out the few remaining paintings placed against her walls. Looking through the mirror at her room Voltlyn realized how little she actually owned. Other than the mirror, her wardrobe, the tub, the bed and her music box there were almost no decorations to be found anywhere. Voltlyn glanced away from the mirror to look at her bare bones room with a small frown, a sense of dissatisfaction swelling inside of her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the sound of a bell rang out, followed by a low growl which emanated from her stomach. Voltlyn perked up, snickering at how her stomach seemed to recognize the sound of the breakfast bell.

"Oh," she murmured, glancing out the window. "I guess I should be in the kitchen now, shouldn't I?"

Voltlyn stepped out into the crowd and locked the door shut behind her. The topaz hued dragoness followed the flow of bodies moving through the halls towards the kitchen, enjoying the feeling of being lost in the crowd completely unnoticed. The stream of dragonesses deposited her by the buffet table and Voltlyn eagerly scooped up the last of the shredded spicy chicken and one of the remaining steaks before turning to search for a table. The females were the first to have arrived at the kitchen, Voltlyn somehow having managed to catch the rush just after breakfast was announced. She searched the rapidly filling tables for an empty table. She took a seat at the nearest one and eyed her food and poked it, attempting to work up the appetite to actually eat.

"Hey Voltlyn, I see you've gotten the last of the good food."

Voltlyn started as Tirren sat down across from her, her tray piled up with scraps of meat and a quarter loaf of bread.

"Oh, hello Tirren," Voltlyn smiled. "If you want you can have some. I don't think I'll be eating it all."

"No, you can keep it," Tirren smirked. "It's my fault for not getting here on time. I woke up to the breakfast bell and had to scramble to get dressed. By the time I got here most of it was already gone. Though I see I'm still earlier than the boys," Tirren smirked as the males started to file in. All of them groaned in near perfect unison at the sight of the ransacked buffet.

Tirren snickered. "I can't remember the last time they beat us here," she shook her head, the bells hanging off of her twisted silver horns ringing. "And they put less effort into their attire than I did."

Savron approached them a few moments later and sat down with his platter of scraps. "Well hello there ladies," he winked. "Don't suppose one of you could spare me a chicken leg? I don't exactly have all that much this time around."

Tirren rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that, Savron. You know as well as we do that the trays will be replaced soon," Voltlyn paused, having just started to hand Savron a leg of chicken. She quickly returned it to her plate. "and maybe you should start getting up on time if you want the food early."

Savron shrugged and yawned as he fumbled for his food. "I've been trying, but I've been having a hard time sleeping. The v… noise from my parents' room gets really distracting."

Tirren rolled her eyes and smarmily replied about how he should stop trying to hide his plotting for more adventures. Savron grumbled his response but was drowned out by Sleet, Typhous, Lyrith and Igneous dropping their plates on the table. Sleet and Igneous both gave similar complaints to Savron while Typhous simply looked at Voltlyn's and Tirren's comparably larger array of food hungrily. Lyr, however, simply dug in, stuffing his face right into the meat scraps and grape jam without a care. The group watched Lyrith eat with amusement for a moment before returning back to their own meals.

Voltlyn shook her head and smiled weakly at the sight of the white dragon's smeared face before looking back down at her food. She grimaced, picking at it as she unsuccessfully tried to bring herself to eat. She knew she should yet she could never have more than a nibble before she found the food had gone back down to her plate.

"You alright Voltlyn?"

Voltlyn looked up at the sound of the voice to gaze into Tirren's concerned face. She gave a wan smile and told her she felt fine. Tirren looked down at her barely touched food with raised eye ridge.

"Are you sure? Because you don't look like you're alright."

The others, having finished their own meals glanced up at the exchange, brows creased with worry.

"Yeah, I mean you have hardly touched your food."

"A loss of appetite does often follow distress, so that would make sense."

"You're welcome to talk to us about it if you want, Voltlyn."

Voltlyn's smile grew more and more strained as each insisted that she could talk with them. A tightness grew in her chest and Voltlyn quickly stood, pushing the plate into the middle of the table.

"I'm feeling fine. Really," Voltlyn forced her grin back open. "I'm just not hungry. You guys can have it. I should get going."

Before any of them could argue Voltlyn turned and stepped out of the kitchen, keeping herself from walking too quickly. She only let out a sigh once she was a good couple rooms away from the kitchen, giving a genuine smile.

"Thanks guys, but I'm really not interested in talking," she whispered to herself as she rejoined the crowd. "At least not right now."

Voltlyn followed the flow of students once more, simply walking and enjoying the view of the Temple. The bright white walls, the vibrant coloured carpets, the elegant statues and the murals of dragons and battles were all a sight to behold. Each sight swept her away from her thoughts and she eagerly admired all of the smallest details in an attempt to soak it all in.

Her revelry came to a stop when a familiar sight caught her eye. It was a large, plump yellow dragoness scrubbing one of the carpets by a huge bucket of soapy water. Voltlyn beamed once more and skipped over to meet her.

"Mom!" Voltlyn shouted as she halted by the bucket of water. Dyama, who had been focused on scrubbing away a particularly nasty spot on the carpet jumped up in surprise.

"Voltlyn!" she gasped, hugging her daughter sloppily. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there! It's so nice to see you again!"

"Do you want some help, mom?" Voltlyn eyed the spot she had been scrubbing with a smile.

"Oh no, don't bother with silly old me! You go and have fun, dear."

Voltlyn smiled and stepped up to help her anyway, shrugging. "I don't have anything to do right now anyway, mom. And besides I'd like to spend a bit of time with you."

Dyama opened her muzzle to argue and then smiled, dabbing at her eyes with a rag. "Alright. I won't say no to my little girl."

The topaz dragoness beamed and strapped on an apron and got to work. Together they managed to scrub away that spot and then set off to the next mess they had to clean. Dyama chatted boisterously with Voltlyn, gossiping about the teachers and Guardians and visiting nobles endlessly. Voltlyn in turn listened and nodded, simply enjoying being in her mom's company once again. They stopped by the art gallery to mop the floors and Voltlyn conversed with her mother about the various portraits, mechanical devices and sculptures on display there. They then went to the kitchen to help clean up after the students and then retreated down to the great hall to tidy up a mishap involving a trolley of tuna.

"Voltlyn, I'm so very glad we were able to have this lovely talk," Dyama chirped as they dumped all of the fish heads into a large bin. "You are such a darling."

"We should really do this more often."

"We should, but I spend so much time working that there really isn't much time for anything else. And I don't want you helping me with my work all the time," Dyama wiped her paws clean and then nuzzled Voltlyn's cheek. "You should be going out and having fun with your friends, like you used to when you were younger."

Voltlyn nodded slowly, a small frown on her face as she tried to recall back before her mother had started gambling. Vague images of the faces of young dragonesses surfaced and she could just remember following after them to play in the streets of Warfang. There were toy balls, dolls and long talks about the most inane of things, which seemed so important at the time. Yet she could not piece any of it together into a coherent string of events.

Dyama noticed Voltlyn's frown and placed a paw on her shoulder. "Do you remember Lucy? Or Typhia? Or Flaresse? You four used to be thick as thieves. I remember a time where I couldn't even see you without one of them being around."

Voltlyn smiled, a few more memories surfacing. "I do remember them. It's… it's just that it was so long ago…"

"It must have been seven years now since the four of you were all together," Dyama sighed fondly. "I miss the days when I could always see that smile on your face…"

"Mom…" Voltlyn sat down next to Dyama. "Whatever happened to them? I mean, I know why we stopped hanging out but… but I don't know what happened to them now. Do you…?"

"Well," Dyama tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "I think that they broke up not long after you left. At least Lucy did because I haven't heard from her in a while. Though last I did hear of her she was living with a Shadow Dragon Clan. Typhia and Flaresse are still buddies though. I think Flaresse became a Warfang guard, and Typhia is a maid to one of the nobles, though I don't know which one."

"Oh," Voltlyn gave a faint smile. "Well, I'm glad to hear that they're all out living their lives. I wonder if they remember me?"

"Oh who could forget you, darling?" Dyama asked, hugging Voltlyn lightly. "Of course they do!"

Voltlyn was silent, not quite believing her mother but nodding along anyway.

"Would you like to meet up with them someday? I'm sure I can get a hold of Typhia and Flaresse. I'm sure we could…"

"Maybe," Voltlyn mused. "Though we didn't leave on good terms…"

"All the more reason to meet with them again," Dyama beamed. "You should all get back together so that you have good memories of one another, rather than sour ones. Apologize for past wrongs. Yes, I think this is a great idea, I'll see what I can do!"

Voltlyn gave a stiff nod as Dyama produced a small booklet and began scribbling a note to herself in it. A strange feeling strained her chest, a tense, but light anxiety, as well as a feeling of fond warmth as more memories came to her. She looked to Dyama as she put her booklet away and gave her back the apron.

"Thanks mom, this was a really fun time we had."

"It was indeed, darling," Dyama gave her snout another nuzzle. "You take care now. And do feel free to stop by my room for a chat every now and again. Nights are the best time to find me."

"Alright," Voltlyn started towards the sunlight filled entrance of the Great Hall and gave a short wave with the tip of her tail. Voltlyn caught one last glimpse of Dyama sitting and watching her before she turned the corner into the Gardens, the feeling of tense warmth returning. Then she vanished from sight.

Voltlyn wandered the Temple grounds for a long time, soaking up the sights and the warm sun, yet a feeling of emptiness now replaced the warmth that once filled her. She watched the groups of students chatter passed, flocking to interesting sights and discussing things that she could almost make out. Voltlyn sat alone for a long time, wondering why she felt so lonely, despite the mass of people about her. She searched each group, feeling an urge to join in before realizing that she didn't know where to start.

Finally Voltlyn stood, having noticed the time and flew up to the female corridor to meet with Typhous. She found the grey dragon outside her room with a well-dressed male swan behind him. The swan gave a bow as Voltlyn approached, his feathered arms folded in front of him.

"There you are, Voltlyn," Typhous beamed. "You're just in time. This is Baron Till, he's the one who requested the… inverted painting."

"Quite. I hear you have finished it, my lady," Till squawked, his voice shockingly harsh given his race. "So I am here to ensure it is up to standard and, if so, claim it."

"Of course," Voltlyn flushed at being called a lady and gave a stiff bow herself. She turned and hastily opened the door to her room, to lead them inside. They stopped by the painting in question and the swan looked it over critically, his eyes scanning the strange surface of the inverted world created on the canvas. Voltlyn and Typhous stood back for a solid minute, watching the swan before any words were spoken.

"This will do," Baron Till huffed finally. "It is not perfect but I did not expect it to be. So far you are the only one to capture my vision to any degree. I shall take it."

Voltlyn sagged with relief, a full smile crossing her face.

"Excellent, shall I call a servant?" Typhous asked only to be waved off by the baron.

"No, I shall take care of this myself. You needn't trouble yourselves," The baron turned and raised a hand. The feathery fingers shifted through the air as he carved out glowing runes in a small circular pattern. He chirped some incantations under his breath as he did so, his eyes shut in concentration. Then he opened his hand and the pattern of runes flashed to life.

From the flash a trio of strange bipedal reptilian apes emerged, small batwings fluttering. Till hissed an order and the imps got to work, hefting the painting up and carrying it out the door. Till turned and gave them a bow, telling them that the payment would arrive soon and then left. Typhous and Voltlyn watched him go for a short while, eyes wide with amazement.

"Well, I never would have suspected Till to be a wizard," Typhous chuckled after a moment of silence. "Then again, I have never met one in the flesh myself so I couldn't have known."

Voltlyn nodded in agreement.

"Still, I should probably take that class someday," Typhous eyes grew distant. "Did you know that they offered wizardry courses here? I'm shocked how few actually take Aideen up on that class."

"That is rather strange," Voltlyn agreed half-heartedly. Typhous glanced over to her, an eye ridge raised.

"You appear rather sombre, Voltlyn, is something the matter?"

"Well…"

"Know that you can talk with me, Voltlyn, I am more than willing to listen."

Voltlyn gazed at the floor for a long stretch of time, Typhous waiting patiently for a response. The lightning draken met his gaze once more and then sighed.

"Well, um…" Voltlyn rubbed her shoulder as she thought over her words. "I've been kind of hoping to meet some new people. Youguysaregreat mind, but I'd… well I'd like to… expand my horizons?"

Typhous blinked and smiled. "Oh, really? That's all? And here I was worried," he snickered and gave her a friendly nod. "Of course I can help you with that. Is there any kind of person in particular you would like to meet? Any groups? There are plenty of groups and clubs here in the Dragon Temple you know. "

"Oh. Um… no I didn't," Voltlyn gave a wan smile. "And as for, um, as for who… well, is there anyone I might like?"

Typhous gave her an amused look. "That's a rather vague request but I'll try to give some suggestions you might like. The first that comes to mind is the Art Club."

Voltlyn's eyes widened. "Art club?"

"It is a fascinating group, though the name is rather unoriginal. Though I suspect that was on purpose. They're a group of students who study, create and display various artworks. It's rather diverse but I found it rather difficult to get into. You need to be an artist, hence why I'm not an active member, though I have helped sell many of their pieces. I could introduce them to you if you want."

Voltlyn beamed. "That would be fantastic Typhous. Thank you."

Typhous gave a short bow. "You are most welcome Voltlyn. Do you want to hear about any more or is that enough for now?"

"Um…" Voltlyn hesitated for a moment, her eyes glazing over. "Well, I think I'll pass for now… I don't want to overwhelm myself."

"That sounds more than reasonable," Typhous nodded. "When would you like to meet them? I could schedule something for tomorrow, if you want?"

"Well, how about in a couple days," Voltlyn asked, slightly flushed. "I… um… I want to get ready for it and I don't think I'll be able to do that by tomorrow."

"Alright, how after Lyr's duel with Thunder?" Typhous suggested. "Seems like as good a time as any."

"Alright, I'm good with that."

Typhous gave another bow and then turned to exit her room. "Well Voltlyn, I must be off now. I promised to meet with my father and I'm already a tardy. I am most glad I could help though, and if you ever need my help again do feel free to call me up."

At a nod in return from Voltlyn Typhous took off, heading for the nearest landing platform. Voltlyn sat back for a moment, contemplating all that happened. A sensation of exhaustion hit her and she stumbled to the door to shut it, before flopping down on her bed. All the strain from the cleaning and walking and the emotions that have been racing through her left her feeling almost entirely burnt out.

And, curled up on her bed, with the sun still hanging in the noon sky, Voltlyn decided that maybe she should give herself a bit of a rest. She shut her eyes to rest her tired body and soon fell fast asleep, sailing across the dreamless depths into the evening.

Typhous stepped out of the Temple and into the gardens, smiling as the cool breeze rustled his scarf. The pleasure of the wind was cut short though, when the clouds shifted in the sky to bare the sun once more. The wind dragon winced as it lanced into his eyes and scorched his scales. The noon summer heat was intense today, enough so that Typhous could swear he saw ripples in the air above the ground.

Sighing morosely, Typhous called upon his element to create a bustling wind about himself to cool his scales. Typhous enjoyed that for a moment and then, on a whim, changed the direction of the small cyclone he'd created for himself so that it blew his scarf and cape back dramatically. Satisfied he set out on a walk, trying to enjoy the sights and smells while he focused on keeping the wind alive.

Typhous meandered about the gardens for a while, sniffing the flowers and sketching out particularly nice vistas. It was great to get away from his dad again. After spending the past two hours being hauled around the Temple and enduring his chatter a refreshing walk was just what he needed. Of course, Aephion didn't know he was here, Typhous had told him that he was going for a nap so that he wouldn't follow him. It was not like Aephion would actually look out here anyway. Even when he had a well-kept garden in his manor he never went out into it.

Typhous' thoughts wandered on as he walked but the strain of keeping the wind alive soon began to weigh down on him. The silver grey dragon exhaled slowly and let the wind die. He took off, flapping up above the canopy of trees to circle down a fair distance away by a small grove. He turned to walk into the small forest, relieved to be in the deep shade and away from the vicious hammer of the sun.

A short distance into the miniature forest Typhous stopped to lay down by the large pond at its center. He smiled and removed his scarf and cape, folding them gently by the pond side before wading in. Typhous groaned in pleasure as the cool water soaked his scales. He paddled about for a few minute as he enjoyed the sensation of it before finally pulling himself free. He shook himself dry a short distance away from his clothing and then lay back down on top of them, to gaze at his reflection.

The grey dragon gazed at himself for a long time. He proceeded to preen and polish the patches of dirt off of his scales, humming as he splashed water onto his scales. Then a rustling behind him caused Typhous to start and whirl about to face the intruder.

Lyrith staggered to a halt, to slump against the battlements of the Temple wall. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath. Sweat dribbled down Lyr's lithe snow-white body as the sun beat down on him. He wiped a paw across his brow and looked around at the scenery around him. Lyrith had gotten fairly far around the Outer Temple wall, with the last stretch to the starting point within sight. To his right the Temple Gardens beckoned him with its promise of shade and water, but he ignored it. Instead he forced himself back to his paws and began running once more, pushing himself to finish his third lap.

Lyr's legs burned as he raced towards the finish, his eyes trained on the covered bowl of water he'd left for himself there. He surged forward as he neared, hurtling across the last couple meters. He ground to a halt by the bowl and eagerly dunked his face into it. He drank several grateful gulps of the warm water and then doused himself with the last of it. He sagged down against the battlements, panting for breath.

The water evaporated off his scales in under a minute and, ravenously, the sun resumed scorching his scales. Lyr groaned and covered his eyes with a paw, muttering to himself. With considerable effort he returned to his paws, grabbed the bowl and made his way down the nearby steps into the garden. The shade of the trees was ancestor sent as Lyrith walked unsteadily through the underbrush.

"Sprinting that third lap… probably wasn't such… a good idea," Lyrith panted, his aching lungs screaming despite the plenitude of air he gave them. Nearly every muscle hurt to some extent, a light throbbing sore that permeated his body. He'd started the day at the forge with Deran, his adoptive father. Their single ice-wind rune gave them no respite in the packed smithy, the blaze of the forge made infinitely worse by the unforgiving sun. The work hadn't been all that hard, since much of the time was spent drinking gallons of ice water, which was one of the only things that kept them alive in the furnace of a building. The jog had seemed like a good idea at the time, as the air after leaving the smithy had seemed somewhat cool. It became much less so halfway through the first lap.

Lyrith took a moment to lean up against one of the trees to rest his legs. He tried to swallow but his throat was of similar consistency to swamp mud and it refused to budge. The albino peered about, trying to remember where the nearest source of water was.

"If I recall correctly," he muttered to himself as he made his way through the path. "There was a pond nearby…" his blood red eyes alighted upon the small forest to his left and he grinned, slipping into the shade and jogging towards the distant gleam of water. Lyr slowed as he caught sight of someone humming ahead of him, a frown creasing his face. Lyr slipped into a crouch and made his way carefully forward, wondering who it was.

Lyrith peeked through the bushes and blinked in surprise. Before him a grey wind dragon was washing himself at the edge of the pond, a jaunty hum filling the pollen soaked air. A pile of discarded accessories lay beside him, all of them brightly colourful against the dark green grass. Lyrith, curious, took a step towards him.

The grey dragon whirled about to stare at him, his muzzle falling open in horror. Lyrith blinked once more, his eyes locking onto his face.

"Typhous?" he asked, frowning.

"Um... hello Lyrith," Typhous smiled wanly, his eyes darting to the wreath and then back to Lyr. "I didn't hear you coming… I was just relaxing by the pond for a bit. Care to join me?"

Lyrith raised an eye ridge but nodded, moving over to the grey dragon and slumping down a short distance away from him. He dunked his head into the water once more, gulping down a couple mouthfuls of the cool water. Typhous watched him drink as he took a few deep breaths.

"So, Lyrith, what exactly are you doing out in this dreadful heat?" Typhous asked as Lyrith poured some water over himself.

"I was doing some laps."

Typhous stared at Lyrith, aghast. "You were doing… whatever for?"

Lyrith looked back to Typhous, raising an amused eye ridge. "Because I could."

Typhous shook his head, astounded, not sure how to reply to that.

"And you?"

Typhous stiffened, frowning. "And me what? Oh. I'm out here to escape my father. He won't want to come out here in this heat when the Temple is still nice and cool."

"Yeah, speaking of which they need a few more ice-wind runes in the smithy," Lyrith groaned and took another gulp of water.

Typhous winced. "I imagine so. How can you manage all this, Lyrith? A run, and a shift working in the forge, in this ancestor forsaken weather?! I simply cannot comprehend it."

"You get used to it."

Typhous simply shook his head in amazement.

For a moment there was silence between them. Lyrith stared into the water and occasionally poured more over him to cool his scales. Typhous stared off into the woods, thinking to himself. Then Lyrith looked back over to Typhous, an eye ridge cocked. "Why don't you like your dad?"

Typhous started, eyes widening. "Well… it's not that I don't like my dad. I really do love him. It's just that he…" Typhous struggled for words. "He… I don't know. He constantly irritates me. I know that it is not intentional but it still happens."

Lyrith frowned. Typhous glanced away, his eyes averted to the ground. He shifted restlessly, as if ready to bolt. The white dragon considered calling him out on his lie, but decided against it. Of all dragons he was one who had no right to call another out for hiding the truth about one's self.

Typhous noticed Lyrith nod and look back down at the pond. The grey dragon returned his gaze to Lyrith, frowning lightly. He became intimately aware of the scars crossing the white scales of the albino's body and a sudden uneasiness swept him. Thoughts he had tried to keep hidden surfaced as he examined Lyr's white hide, churning in his head. He couldn't banish them, just as he couldn't look away from the snow white scales. The pressure in the center of his chest grew, building and swelling until it became unbearable.

Lyr finally looked up from the pond and stared into Typhous' face. "What is it?" he demanded, his voice stark.

Typhous jumped, his turquoise eyes flashing to Lyr's red ones. His muzzle opened and closed a few times as he struggled to speak. Then he breathed deep, once, twice and then he spoke.

"Lyrith… you've been a victim of prejudice for a long time, right?"

Lyrith snorted. "Oh, is it that obvious?"

Typhous blanched but pushed on, despite the regret that flashed in his mind. "How did you handle it? How did you handle the scorn and abuse?"

A single brow of Lyrith's furrowed. "Well… when it's thrown at you all the time you just have to learn to take it. I built up scar tissue to help ward off the blows and learned to strike back with greater force to keep them away. Often times literally," Lyrith gestured to the scars on his body. "Why do you ask?"

Typhous shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. He had to say it. He couldn't hold it in anymore, especially not now. And there was no way to be sure without giving it away anyway.

"Lyrith I'm… I'm homosexual," Typhous said in a rush, flushing deeply. He looked away from Lyrith, eyes shut, waiting for the reaction.

Lyrith jerked back, eyes flying wide. That statement had been the absolute last thing he had anticipated. He stared at Typhous, who all but cowered before him. Lyrith blinked a few times, the shock quickly fading.

"I hope you didn't say that because you want to date me," Lyrith said slowly. "Because I'm not really interested in that sort of thing."

Typhous peered from under his wing, startled. "Well, no. I just…" The wind dragon slowly sat up, staring at Lyrith anxiously. That hadn't been the reaction he'd expected at all. He was happy it wasn't fury, but the banality of Lyr's reply seemed ridiculous.

Lyrith gazed back at Typhous, his brow furrowed. The question about prejudice was starting to make more sense now. After the war with Malefor the remnants of the dragon race had begun desperately trying to repopulate. Having been so close to annihilation reproduction became the priority for nearly everyone. During those first few years countless eggs were laid. The tradition of the Year of the Dragon was dropped in favour of reproduction at any time and dragons became encouraged to reproduce much younger than was typically custom. Though as some taboos were dropped, others came into being. Those that refused or couldn't mate to reproduce were shunned and became pariahs. As Lyr understood it, the cultural castration of homosexual dragons was worse than anything done to the albinos for many years. While the worst of the hatred faded after the first decade passed and the tension on the species lessened, the ghost of it still remained. Lyrith might never have even known had he not found it in a few of his history books.

"So… so you don't hate me?" Typhous asked finally, gazing into Lyr's thoughtful face.

Lyrith snapped to attention and snorted. "It would be rather stupid of me to start hating you for that, wouldn't it? After all, you don't seem to hate me for this," Lyrith tapped his white shoulder with a claw. Typhous sighed in relief, a smile crossing his face.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

"Good," Lyrith huffed, looking away. "If I'm going to be predictable at least it should be in a positive way."

Typhous laughed weakly at that and Lyr grinned.

"I assume this has something to do with your dad."

Typhous frowned at that.

"You brought it up right after I asked about him. And you weren't very convincing when you told me that you didn't know why he annoyed you."

"Oh," Typhous sighed. "I suppose I'm fairly obvious too then," he chuckled. "Well, honestly you're the first one I've ever told about it. Dad does not know and for good reason. I'm his only son and heir. My mom died when I was an egg so he's never been willing to take another mate and therefore has never had another hatchling."

Lyrith nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"And so he is always trying to relate with me, get to know me and such. It was fun at first but now… now that I'm of age all he can think of is me getting hooked up. I think he really wants to see his line continue and so he's always searching for females for me. And it hurts because I can't tell him without disappointing him and…"

Lyrith listened as Typhous began to ramble, the white's expression growing dour.

"I've always had to deal with my problems head on. I've gotten used to it. The bullying, the comments and the threats. But with Typhous the prejudice is invisible. What must that be like, having that kind of secret?"

"I just don't know what to do," Typhous simpered, curling up tight. "If I do not hook up with a female soon he'll likely begin plans for arranging a marriage and I don't think I could take that. There's no way out but if I tell him…"

"Typhous," Lyrith murmured, turning to him.

Typhous blinked and wiped his eyes. "Yes?"

"How about we go down to Darrowlight for a while? I don't know, grab a bite or something," Lyrith smiled, meeting Typhous' gaze. "We could chat more there, if you want. The heat is killing me."

Typhous stared at Lyrith for a bit and then smiled himself. He got up and reclaimed his scarf and cloak.

"There… there aren't exactly many places down in Darrowlight that are all that cool..."

"We could go back into the Temple, though I figured you wouldn't want to at the moment," Lyrith shrugged, rising himself.

"I really don't," Typhous sighed, shaking his head.

"Then we'll find a spot. Even if it's just in an icebox."

"That would not be very comfortable," Typhous chuckled. "Though I believe there is a meatball shop owned by a family of ice drakes we could go to."

"Sounds good."

Lyr and Typhous stepped out of the forest and back into the garden, making their way towards the Temple entrance.

Dardarax's Characters:

Lyrith, Typhous, Savron, Tirren, Igneous, Sleet

Dyama, Lucy, Typhia, Flaresse

Deran

Poor Voltlyn… XD Well, she seems to be recovering at least.

So, this is a long chapter I've been waiting for for quite a while. I'm sure many of you already guessed Typhous' sexuality (or saw it displayed in a particular comic) but it's finally out there. More importantly, the explanation as to why he's been keeping it a secret. It's been an idea bouncing around my head for a while and I think it works well, along with the reason why the Year of the Dragon thing isn't in use anymore. =)

Now, I haven't had a chance to play with the homophobia aspect much in this setting, mainly because I didn't want to have it being spouted without proper context as to why. It took Typhous a long time to reveal this, and if I had started in DL 1 people might have gotten the wrong idea. That may change now, since its reveal. And no, I don't intend Typhous to be my only representation of homosexuality in Dark Legacy. He's my main one, but not the only one. =)

Anyway, to close off this rather serious Author's note: Next chapter will have the duel between Lyr and Thunder (as hinted at by Typhous). =3 Enjoy.