Night had fallen over the Dragon Realms.
Out, alone in the wilderness, Spyro stared into the flickering flames of the fire he had created for warmth. He had made it to the base of the mountain before the sun disappeared over the tops of the trees that ran alongside the former Ring of Fire, and he was tired from flying all day. Aside from the crackling of the fire and his own breathing, the world sounded silent to him. The fire was small, made only from sticks he had found on the floor of the forest on either side of the barren earth, but it was enough to keep him warm from the coolness of the summer night.
As he gazed into the flame, he wondered how Cynder was. He had seen her crying when he left the lodge, which only made it harder to leave. With all his heart, he wanted to be with her, but he knew he must find out what had happened to him before he saw her again, out of fear that it might happen again. Spyro gazed up at the vast array of stars over his head, seeing the night in all its beauty. The bright stars against the darkness of the night sky looked like drops of glistening dew on the scales of Cynder, his black beauty. The sight only made him long to see her more. He could see her deep, emerald eyes, her ivory horns, and her long, seductive body. He felt his heart beat grow quick, but he shook the mental image out of his head before anything happened. He couldn't wait until he saw her again.
But, after they reunited, what would become of them? Perhaps that was what he would learn at the Temple. Ignitus had told him that he would learn other things when he reached the Temple, but exactly what, he did not say. Tucking himself underneath his wing, Spyro closed his eyes, the black dragoness still in his head. He loved her, and missed her. But, he promised, he would return shortly, and stay with her forever.
Back in the lodge, Cynder snuggled up under the soft sheets of her bed. Her purple hero was still in her mind. Oh, how she hoped to the Ancestors that she would find him, and that he was alright! She knew that the search would be hard, but she hoped for the best. She prayed that they would be together forever, and that he would love her as she loved him. As the moonlight illuminated her deep, black scales, she shut her eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep.
Hunter of Avalar was in his room, on one of the lower floors of the lodge. He was laying in his bed, but did not sleep. He was gazing out the window, wondering where Spyro had run off to. He worried for the fate of the Dragon race. If Spyro could be found, and he and Cynder were reunited, only then would there be a chance of any more dragons coming into the world. He continued to stare off into the night sky for quite a while, before finally succumbing to sleep's grasp.
Cyril, too, lay awake in one of the rooms on the lower floors. He worried about the fate of the Dragon race as well, but for different reasons. If Cynder couldn't become gravid, as he had predicted, then whatever mating might occur between her and Spyro would be futile. He worried about having to teach Spyro and Cynder when they returned.
He also worried about a secret he and the other Guardians kept. On the night that the Dark Master's army raided the Dragon Temple, they had sent other dragons off with a few of the eggs, hoping that they would survive. None of the Guardians knew if the dragons carrying the eggs had made it to safety. Even if they had, he thought, did the eggs hatch? Where were these dragons, if anywhere at all? If Cynder indeed was infertile, then the fate of the race depended on whatever dragons might lay elsewhere in the vast world. The Ice Guardian shut his eyes, concerned for the two young dragons, as well as any others there might be in the world.
Back out in the wilderness, Spyro was dreaming that he and Cynder were on one of the many decks of the Dragon Temple, which was placed back in its original location. They had seen the view from the tower before, but now they looking at the beautiful view of the world freed from Malefor's corruption. Their tails were interlocked, and Spyro gave Cynder a small kiss on her maw as they hazed out into the world, her face lighting up. However, someone appeared behind them. It was another dragoness, with pastel pink scales, bright blue eyes, a small snout, a beige underside, long, angular beige horns, and purple ridges and wings. The pink dragoness and Cynder fought, clawing, biting, and brutally beating each other up. There was blood, shed by both dragonesses. The scene was too much for Spyro to take. He tried to intervene and protect Cynder, but he felt as though he was being held back, unable to move. He couldn't stop the two from fighting. The fight had no noise, but the sight of the carnage before him was making him dizzy.
The purple dragon awoke with a gasp from his nightmare, with a gasp of fear. His fire had gotten smaller, but his mind was on the dream. What did this mean? Were there more dragons? Why was this one fighting Cynder? The nightmare was as frightening as it was confusing, and he prayed that it would not come to reality. As it was still late in the night, Spyro tried to get some more sleep, planning to finish his journey tomorrow. What would await him at his destination, he didn't know, but his love for Cynder was enough for him to carry on, no matter what.
Alright, so my read count is looking more like 200+ per day!
This chapter feels weird to me, aside from being short. I could use some reviews to help keep me on track, and a proofreader would be greatly appreciated.
Also, I didn't know I would be using Ember when I started this story. Now, I just have to find out how to get Flame in there. Any ideas?
--L/M
