Chapter 6

Way of the Elements


It was a planet.

Or, that's how it looked to him. He was transfixed by its size, staring at the edges of light that inched over its horizon. It rotated ever so slowly, its sheer mass seemingly slowing down time around it.

He raised a claw, as if reaching to touch it. He felt his head suddenly lighten, and the rotating cosmic body stopped moving altogether.

He narrowed his eyes, never taking his eyes off the planetoid, frowning in concentration. This training required the utmost focus, and patience to rival that of the indifferent body before him.

After a minute, his body began to tremble violently, and he had no choice but to release the body. The pressure had become too much; like the planet was slowly crushing him the longer he exerted control over it.

If you master a planet, you master all within it.

And yet he would never know if the body before him was one. It never grew closer or further away, even after endless, tireless flying in its direction. He found himself longing to touch its surface, to feel like he'd accomplished something. His jaw tightened as he loosed a low growl up at it.

Always, nothing. Nothing here changes. Nothing except me, the shadow, and the next entry into that world... He listened to the faint, screeching breath echo through the expanse of twisting shapes and darkness. Why must you taunt me? Always with your whispers, your orders, but never a reason...

He stood there for a while yet again, staring at a pair of white eyes just visible beyond the planetoid.

You.

They stared at each other, him with hatred and confusion, it with fixated indifference. Finally, he turned away, once again knowing it was useless.

I can never reach you. You have mastered this dimension, and its gravity, far more than I ever will.

He bowed his head, sitting on his hind legs and wrapping his tail and wings around himself as if to ward off the cold; except it was to ward off something else entirely. Loneliness.

His vision darkened as he felt weariness slowly overtake his body. However, like one last insult, he heard the sound of flapping wings in the distance.

No... I am too weary to flee...

He raised his head weakly towards the sound, and curiosity suddenly stirred in his gut. The creatures were... shining. Flying creatures that almost glowed in his eyes, as almost anything could against the infinite void below. Their foreheads and shoulders were adorned in bright runes that flashed once in the limited glow from a lone, purple crystal.

As the creatures flew below him, he wanted nothing more than to join them. But his exertions had left him too weak to move, let alone fly, and he could only watch as they passed in ignorance.

Then they passed between him and the faint purple glow beneath. They were black; a colour that inversely glowed and stood out in the never-ending twilight.


Spyro woke in dismay, the last images of his dream quickly fading from his mind. He quickly rose and circled in place, trying to piece the images together whilst avoiding crushing his brother.

It's all going away! Why can't I remember something like this? Something so important? Think, Spyro, think...

Only a few images stuck in his mind. The first was a giant, moon-looking thing against a purple sky. But what was it? Nothing came to him, even after tapping his cranium a few times.

The next was a pair of white eyes, which made him instinctively shudder and pause in his movement. He knew what they were; during their travels through the enchanted forest, Sparx and Cynder reluctantly described him in the Well of Souls. Whatever those eyes in the dream were, they reeked of the presence that invaded his body.

After calming himself down, he concentrated again. There was something he was missing... a detail just as important as the previous. Dark, flying figures, that were incredibly familiar somehow...

Black dragons! I saw them. Cynder's people!

He rushed out the door to wake Cynder, but doubt stopped him in his tracks as he was about to burst through her curtains.

Wait... black dragons in Convexity? What does it mean? And...well... Cynder seems content now. If I tell her so soon, she might start thinking about her past, even start remembering things that'll only bring her pain...

He rested on his haunches and closed his eyes thoughtfully. I should ask one of the Guardians for advice first. But I can't ignore this – two dreams like this means something.

He turned back to wake Sparx, seeing that the dawn was rising; he could guess without the sundial that it'd be time to get ready. He was surprised at how quickly they were adjusting to city life; the body woke up appropriately of its own accord.

As if in response, he heard Cynder began to move about in her room, though he inwardly hoped he hadn't woken her. After a few minutes, she emerged to stretch her wings in the morning sunlight, eyeing Spyro as he'd moved to look out the window.

'Morning, Spyro.'

'Uh... morning.' He responded with a slight delay, before cracking a small grin at her. 'Ready for putting your claws to better use?'

Cynder quickly noticed her innermost digits did seem a little sore from her practice on the leatherbark parchment yesterday. Flexing them in an attempt to unwind, she grinned back. 'Only one way to find out.' She glanced around the silent room. 'How come you're up all by yourself? Sparx is usually around to annoy us in positions like this.'

'He's still asleep.' Spyro gave a slight sigh. 'I had a... weird dream last night, Cynder. That's why I'm up early.'

Cynder raised a brow curiously. 'And that's why you seem a bit nervous? Not because of that little mess yesterday?'

Spyro flushed a little with embarrassment, but shook his head. 'It's a little like a dream that... eventually led me to the Well of Souls, and... well, you. It does have me worried.'

Cynder frowned sympathetically, trying not to remember the Eternal Night too much. 'So what will you do?'

'I'm just going to ask Volteer about it after our lesson. Maybe he can interpret its meaning better than I can. And with Ignitus...'

Cynder simply nodded respectfully, full knowing he needed to understand before sharing the details. 'I get it, Spyro. Just don't worry too much, OK? I'm guessing Volteer's lessons are going to get a lot harder, so you need to free up some space in that big brain of yours.'

Spyro chuckled lightly. 'You really mean that after that "little mess"?'

She stepped forward a little, nudging his shoulder playfully. 'Hey, it's not your fault you're the only drake in our group so far.'

Spyro's gaze fell a little, Cynder quickly stepping back. 'Oh, sorry. Should we... wake the others?'

'Yeah... that would be best.'

They found Sparx where Spyro left him; snoozing comfortably on Spyro's pillow. His brother moved to nudge him awake, but Cynder stopped him with her tail, an amused grin on her muzzle.

'Wait – I want to try something.'

Spyro watched with a mixture of concern and fascination as Cynder wrapped her body loosely around Sparx's form, positioning her face directly in front of him. Then she let a gentle gust from her mouth. Before Sparx's eyes were open, Spyro heard his yells pierce his eardrums.

'Aaah! AAAAAAAAAGH!'

Cynder just sat there as Sparx nearly hit the roof. Spyro leapt up onto the bed with concern as he eyed his brother.

'Sparx! Calm down! It's just us!' He glanced down at the coiled Cynder scornfully. 'You nearly gave him a heart attack!'

'Oh, calm down.' Cynder uncoiled herself, amusement ever present on her face. 'Admit it; part of you liked it too. Why didn't you stop me otherwise?'

They all fell silent when they heard loud scrambling from upstairs, before a loud screech echoed down through the hall. 'Assassins!'

'Oops,' was Cynder's only response under the annoyed stares of the brothers.

Solaris tore down the stairwell and thrust the curtain aside, her red eyes ablaze with energy. 'We're under attack! Send for reinf–'

Spyro quickly turned to her and raised his claws pleadingly. 'It's ok, Solaris! Cynder just played a prank on Sparx. There's no grublins or anything like that, alright?'

Solaris blinked with a flat stare, before adorning a grin resembling Cynder's. 'Oh. I suppose the plight of a firefly is of little concern.'

Sparx clasped his hands to his head with breaking frustration. 'My name's Sparx! Start using it, orange!'

Solaris just stared at him flatly. 'Really?'

She retracted her head before Sparx could retort again, sending him flying around in a circle before the entrance mumbling to himself. 'Geez, that's real sporting, everyone picking on the measly dragonfly...'

Spyro gazed at him sympathetically; remorsefully in Cynder's case.

'Sorry, Sparx, I couldn't help it. I just wanted to try it once!' She raised a claw formally. 'I promise I'll never do that again, alright?'

Sparx just eyed her warily, before turning his eyes to his brother. 'And you just let it happen?'

'Sorry, my brain's a little slow this morning.' He grinned slyly. 'You know how it is.'

Sparx eyed them both even more warily. 'I swear you dragons got a conspiracy happening. Mark my words! I'll figure out your secrets one day!'

Spyro smiled as his brother flew out to meet the morning sun. 'He'll be alright,' Spyro reassured her, still looking a little guilty. 'He's a lot tougher than he looks.'


After their little "joke" and the previous lessons of the day, Spyro let Sparx go off on his own in Warfang. He wasn't a dragon, after all, and didn't get much from the lessons anyway. Keeping up with Nadina in flight or riding her horns still proved exhausting to the dragonfly's relatively frail body.

The three dragons spotted Alaia already on the same electric balcony they'd used yesterday, seemingly relieved to see them. 'Thank goodness. I'd hate to be alone listening to Volteer in there.'

Solaris glanced around in awe, in stark contrast to her general reaction to the rest of Warfang. In fact, Spyro felt a little pleased that her reaction was very much like his own. 'So these are the Starlight Towers...'

'You're actually impressed?' Cynder responded in slight disbelief.

Solaris nodded humbly. 'Yes... actually, I... don't even know how to write. Literacy isn't a high priority for my people, after all.'

'But you want to?' Spyro asked.

'Yes. I long saw potential, but could never explore it myself.'

'Can you read, though?' Alaia asked timidly. 'I know it might sound rude, but... you won't learn much if you can't read.'

Solaris barked vehemently, causing Alaia to flinch. 'Of course I can read! How else could we even speak to other races, or receive messages? Though we could only reply with memory, I suppose.'

They showed Solaris through the library they'd passed through yesterday, Spyro imitating Volteer's explanations but more concisely this time around. Solaris absorbed the facts like a sponge, adopting a completely different demeanour to when they were hunting. Spyro felt himself loosen up around her as he talked – her cold hard stare was somehow gone in this place of knowledge.

Volteer was waiting alone this time, in the lecture hall – having just finished assembling a thick pile of scrolls stacked neatly to the right. At their footsteps, he turned around with a pleasant smile. 'Greetings again, students. Now if you'll-'

His wide jaw opened wide at the sight of Solaris, coming last after Spyro. The blue dragoness simply gazed up at the wide-eyed Guardian as if he was another tome.

'So this is the "Volteer" you speak of.'

The other three stepped away as Volteer lumbered forward clumsily, smile never leaving his face. 'So this is Solaris – the one Cyril spoke of! Splendid! To finally meet you is miraculous, stupendous, phenomenal, exceptional–'

'Skip the pleasantries, old one.'

Volteer was unperturbed by her retort. 'And a tongue on her as a bonus! Welcome!'

She just stared with visible discomfort. 'You're getting a little close for my taste.'

Volteer quickly raised his head and bowed apologetically, not worried despite her lack of acknowledgment or greeting. She didn't seem to be regarding him with the respect usually due to elders, like the rest of them did. Examining her further, Volteer's bright eyes ran over her wings and scales curiously. 'Fascinating. What species of dragon are you?'

Oh, do not call me an ice dragon or I'll-

'You're not an ice dragon.' She raised her brow with surprise. 'Nor a true fire dragon. Ice dragons have translucent horns and wing tips, not scales. And no fire dragon has those extra wing digits. What exactly are you?'

Solaris shifted uncomfortably as everyone looked to her, quickly figuring that she was hiding something. That he didn't even detect the deception before made Spyro question his own insight a little, given his strange experience upon meeting Alaia.

'You... are right. You're smarter than you appear, electric dragon.' Volteer waited patiently as she exhaled, glancing around at them stiffly. 'My people aren't simple fire dragons. We're... magma dragons.'

The youngsters simply stared at her curiously, but Volteer's jaw formed a tall oval shape before he broke into an ecstatic grin.

'Of course! The thick scales, the weaponised wings – even the rough demeanour, it all points to it! By the Ancestors, a magma dragon in my classroom! Incredible! It is truly unfortunate that relations to our overseas cousins have all but evaporated, becoming non-existent, deprived, even mythical among some circles, but here one is, standing right before me...'

'Ahem!' Solaris responded sharply. 'I think you're getting your hopes up. I'm... not a real magma dragon.'

Volteer simply stared back, dumbfounded. 'What? Are you, or are you not, a magma dragon?'

He put it so simply, but she felt it was far more complicated than that. Doubt still crawled through her head as to trust these new acquaintances or not.

'Let's just say... my father's line have always been full-blooded magma dragons. As do most who remain in our enclave with high stations and roles. But me... I only possess affinity for fire, and fire alone. Not the elegant blend with earth that most of them wield.'

Volteer looked as if to bombard her with questions, but he composed himself and glanced over to the white alcove. 'Perhaps... if you'd be willing to share more about your people... would you speak for us? We were about to start on the origins of the elements – but a personal account of your people would prove to be far more valuable at this stage. Will you indulge us? It would be a welcome addition to our current trove of knowledge.'

Solaris thought her options over. She could easily respect Volteer's desire for knowledge, especially if he'd once had access to their history and culture before. She nodded after a short pause.

'Very well. Though I am yet young, and so the issues of the full-grown adults are still closed to me.'

Volteer shook his head dismissively, unable to contain the excitement on his face – joining the other youngsters in an alcove of his own, which he was clearly too large to fit comfortably. Spyro quickly prepared a leatherbark sheet in front of him, but Cynder and Alaia were content to listen as Solaris circled around to face them from the white circle. She exhaled once, speaking calmly and collectively.


'If I haven't made it apparent already, the culture of Magma dragons is far different from yours. In our separation from you, from this continent – Neratha, enclosing the kingdom of Avalar, we've come to call you "Guardian Dragons". An ironic name, though... it's passed down that you and all the races living here have suffered because of your weakness in the face of disaster.'

Volteer gave a slight frown which vanished quickly. He didn't like to be reminded of failure, and didn't anticipate their distant cousins to look down on them so for it. Still, he did ask for information; she was just being a little too honest.

'How were you affected by the war?' Alaia asked hesitantly, not sure if she wanted the possibly gruesome details that Solaris would most probably recount. She felt relieved when Solaris adamantly shook her head.

'Not as much as the Guardians, that's for sure. Ground armies did attack, yes... but the extreme environment undid them more than we did. We live low and in harsh conditions – in isolation from the rest of our continent – only getting by from the brief cycles of forest nearby that are frequently burned down by lava eruptions from the Infernal Chasm. This is a chain of flowing lava that acts as a natural barrier to land-bound creatures, eventually running into the backdrop of the ocean, slowly building more land behind us. Even trolls can't survive long in there, and they have no ships to sail around. Even if they did, they'd need metal ships, as any wood burns when it comes too close to our dwellings. Anytime a raiding party or army attacked, we'd send each other signals by firing large flares into the sky. The only real threat were the degenerate wyverns – which were weakened flying through the heat and ash, and were easy to pick off. The rest were either burned to a crisp in trying to reach us, or retreated at the losses they took in their few attempts. These were few and far between; each massive but utterly futile. Wherever the reinforcements were coming from, it was leagues away. Whenever we could afford to, we sent raiding parties of our own to stop them setting up bases and keep them off our land as far as we could fly.'

'How far was that?' Cynder asked guardedly, wondering if they would have bothered helping them here were it within their ability.

Solaris shook her head regretfully. 'Full-grown adults are too bulky and massive to travel long distances, and... well, we are averse to seawater. We are more likely to drown because of our weight, and after a few members nearly sank after a short flight out to sea, it was pointless.'

The audience as a whole felt relieved at the account. The Magma dragons, from her account, were almost untouched by the war.

'So that's how you could come...' Volteer wondered out loud. 'Because you're young enough. Are your scales still thickening?'

Solaris lowered her head, seemingly troubled. 'Not... anymore. As I said, I'm not like other Magma dragons.' She raised her head stiffly. 'I wanted to come as soon as the tectonic activity ended, as our volcano was out of control for days... and suddenly stopped. We felt a shift in it... like a – wound that was miraculously closed and healed within the volcano. At least, that's how my father described it. There are very few powers we know that are capable of that.'

She gazed down at Spyro, once again in fascination. 'I wanted to find out who, and what, saved us. And I found you, Spyro. You and your power – incredible for one of your age.'

Spyro stopped trying to write, strangely flattered by her tone of admiration. 'Um... thanks. But to be honest... I just want to learn about being a dragon – not really a powerful one.'

Solaris widened her eyes in surprise. 'But without power, what kind of a dragon are you?' When Spyro just remained silent, she snorted dismissively. 'To make a long story short, though, I came here on my own as a messenger; that the magma dragons are alive and well, even if we're separated. I also came to meet the apparent saviour of our world, but so far I'm... disillusioned.'

Volteer quickly interjected to change the subject, spotting the discomfort growing on Spyro's muzzle. 'You're digressing slightly, my dear. Can you tell us more about how your people function as a society?'

Solaris' eyes lingered on Spyro for a moment, before she returned her attention to the rest.

'...of course.' She retracted her gaze from Spyro, but he still felt the lingering effect from her gaze. 'We have a strict structure in terms of families and blood relations. Spyro, Cynder – you remember my reaction to those mates as neighbours?' As they nodded, she peered at them all with apparent censure. 'To me, there would be no point to such a union – the mixed blood of fire and earth dragons has already been distilled and refined in us Magma dragons. Such tradition is – hammered into us from an early age; hence my natural aversion to it. For that is our namesake – using a combination of Fire and Earth abilities to manipulate – or with enough energy – generate magma constructs.'

'That sounds amazing!' Spyro exclaimed. 'Is that how you build your homes? Or city?'

She narrowed her brow in slight annoyance. 'In a way, yes. Our city – if you could call it that – is a carefully constructed series of rock pods, running down in raised tracks running down the side of our volcano, Infernal Breath. This is where we live, normally, but we also have hunting parties that stay in various outposts when gathering food.'

Alaia managed to speak up. 'You seem... a little sad.'

'What do you expect?' Solaris snapped lightly. 'I'm the only magma dragon capable of crossing the ocean separating our continents. With my commitment to stay here, I will not see my people again for years.'

'Then why don't you go back to visit?' Spyro asked guardedly. Solaris, however, just sighed.

'This was determined by both sides to be the best solution... at least for a time.'

She looked as if that was all she wanted to say. Volteer felt a little disappointed, as he'd only filled two sheets of bark with runes. He wanted to ask more about family structure, but decided against it given that she didn't want to talk anymore. He chastised himself for forgetting how young they all still were – family would no doubt involve mating rituals, and he hadn't even started basic history!

'You look like you're finished, my dear. Do you have anything else to add before we can move on to our next lesson?'

Solaris shook her head slowly, turning her gaze towards the open window overlooking the valley of Avalar. 'If you find yourselves hunting out again, I will need to send a message back to my people on the way, should I join you on the way.'


Spyro was significantly less cheery in class that day, despite his previous enthusiasm for this exact line of learning. Solaris stayed in her own circular bay away from the trio of youngsters, but close enough to observe how they wrote and their technique for doing so. As Volteer stood ready with his pile of references, Cynder instinctively glanced over at Spyro when he announced they'd be learning about fire dragons this day. He was so bubbly about what he read, but Solaris' attitude seemed to have drained him of his enthusiasm, and as Volteer began to explain the general anatomy of fire dragons, she leaned over to him on her right.

'Psst. Spyro. You know all this, right?'

Spyro took a moment to answer, turning his head while trying not to alert Volteer to their whispering. 'Well... yeah.'

'Then say something!'

'... and I believe, like Ignitus, that fire dragons sometimes possess the ability to communicate through the mind...'

'Like the pool of visions?' Spyro managed to speak up.

Volteer turned and nodded pleasantly. 'Yes. Oh, how I would long to use it... I envied Ignitus in that manner. Such a gift...'

Solaris had managed to imitate Alaia and Spyro to such a degree that she was writing nearly as fast as Cynder was by now. Spyro watched her, rather impressed by her progress. She didn't even know how to stand an hour ago...

'What's the pool of visions?' Alaia spoke up curiously at the subject.

'It was part of the old dragon temple out near the wetlands,' Volteer explained, 'before the Ape occupation. Though thanks to a younger Spyro and Ignitus, we reclaimed it; for a time. Of better days...'

Solaris paused and glanced at Spyro again before continuing to write, her expression unreadable.

Spyro didn't want Volteer to stop, so he prompted another line of questioning.

'What happened to the Pool of visions, Volteer? Was it destroyed when Malefor reclaimed the temple?'

Volteer shook his head thoughtfully. 'I don't believe so. That ring of power would have created quite a disturbance if destroyed – and would have caused Ignitus a great deal of pain, given his level of interaction and magical bond with its energies. I believe Malefor wanted to try and use it himself to gain leverage in the war, but since he was not a fire dragon, he couldn't. Otherwise we would have lost the war a long time ago. Perhaps it's still up there somewhere.'

Spyro retracted his head slightly when Volteer gazed at him and leaned forward as if making out an obscured rune. 'Hmm... perchance, Spyro, were you ever able to use it, back in the pleasant days? It might shed some light on your ancestry.'

Spyro bowed his head, trying to remember. 'I... I don't know, Volteer. I was never able to use it, standing right in front of it... and the dreams I did have were from the Chronicler, not the Pool.'

Volteer paused before raising his head again. 'Ah, well – I digress. We still have more to go before I get to the truly remarkable origins of the element of fire. I apologise if any of you doze off during this next hour – it's happened before, so I won't necessarily take offense.'

Spyro and Solaris listened equally as raptly, their claws working without them having to think about it, while Cynder and Alaia had to concentrate a great deal. Still, Cynder found some things about the fire dragon anatomy fascinating. Most grew a total of four horns; two primary ones emerge rapidly at hatching, while a smaller pair erupt during a male's final growth spurt. However, only a single pair of facial frills would emerge by then; the crest and frills of both males and females only grew as the dragon aged over decades. The colour of the frills was what varied the most between individual dragons.

Volteer quickly abandoned his pile of scrolls and parchment, knowing most of the details by heart. He sat down in an attempt to make himself comfortable as he continued, though he kept standing every time he changed to a diagram or illustration to demonstrate a point.

Then, after spouting the infertile age of five-hundred, Volteer stood there, panting heavily, looking incredibly satisfied with himself and, seemingly, how much Cynder's wrist was throbbing at that moment. Everyone else looked equally exhausted, though Solaris masked this with her indifferent expression.

'Time for a break, I think.'

The students could only nod as Volteer edged towards a bow window, content to sunbath while expanding his wing membranes to absorb as much light as possible. He spoke without turning his head from the view.

'Feel free to explore the tower for a bit. Please be back within half an hour. Now I must... recuperate.'

Cynder was the first to zip up the stairs towards the balconies, figuring they would get an even better view than Volteer. The others were quick to follow her, though Solaris moved off to her own balcony while Spyro and Alaia joined Cynder. Spyro swallowed his displeasure at the previous talk to glance at Alaia, trying to smile.

'So... Alaia? Why don't you tell us a bit more about yourself? We haven't really talked outside the classroom.'

Alaia shied away from him a little, but cleared her throat all the same. 'Well, um... yes, I suppose you're right. I'm...' She drew her muzzle uncomfortably. 'I'm still not used to living in this city. It's so big... I only really know the towers because they're so tall and distinct. And Nadina's too busy to lead us much anymore, so I usually stay with my parents otherwise.'

'Would you say you're... happy here?' Cynder asked gently, turning her gaze away from the view.

Alaia shrugged. 'Well... we haven't been here long enough to say for sure, but it is a beautiful place, especially from up here... Hopefully it'll be repaired soon. My dad said they might be holding a special event when the repairs are done.'

'Really?' Spyro mused. 'Hmm... maybe they'll have a feast to mark the end of the war.' He widened his eyes in realisation. 'Uh... I don't know what dragons do for fun, apart from that.'

Cynder shook her head empathetically. 'Me neither.'

'Well...' Alaia spoke up knowingly. 'I've got a couple of ideas.'

'Like what?' Cynder asked.

Alaia gave a small smile as she glanced at the ceiling. 'Well... dad talked about things we used to do when he was young. I think, quite possibly, that Warfang may hold contests, including flying races and fighting tournaments.'

Cynder suddenly felt very nervous at the thought of crowds watching her fly. 'Will we have to take part?'

Alaia raised a brow in confusion at her. 'Um... no. It's called a contest for a reason... if you enter, it means you're confident enough in your abilities to stand a chance at winning. And it would be completely unfair for younger dragons like us to compete against adults.'

'Dragons... can fight for fun?' Spyro asked in disbelief, images of war dispelling such an image as quickly as he imagined it.

Alaia nodded, with Spyro still gazing at her uncertainly. 'They're usually supervised and have strict rules to prevent injuring each other too much. But dad always boasted he was one of the best – and fights could last for hours, given how prideful some dragons can be.'

That, on the other hand, sounded like something both Spyro and Cynder would excel at. Cynder adopted a proud smirk as she glanced at Spyro. 'I wonder how well we'd do if we fought each other?'

Spyro adopted a lightly fearful expression. 'Hey, I wouldn't want to fight you. I've seen how scary you can be.' His thoughts returned to their training, especially Terrador's part in their education. 'You know, we might have to anyway... once Terrador starts teaching us combat training.'

Alaia was terrified at the thought of fighting either of them. 'Wait, what? I don't want to fight either of you!'

'Relax, Alaia.' Cynder said. 'Like you said, there would probably be rules about it; and supervised.'

'Still...' The olive dragoness' cheeks sagged. 'I probably wouldn't stand a chance.'

Spyro realised that she, most likely, didn't have much combat experience, and he smiled gently. 'Well, don't worry, I promise I'll go easy on you if it ever came to that. I wouldn't want to hurt–'

'There you go again.'

The three faced the blue dragoness as she strode across the library floor. Cynder frowned slightly, but Spyro eyed her resolutely, as if telling her "I'll handle it". He faced her stiffly, deciding enough was enough.

Solaris stopped in front of them, folding her wings as she sat, still frowning at the purple dragon. 'You won't do her any favours in concessions. You'll only make her weaker by feeding her doubt in herself. Don't encourage weakness.'

Her words rung in his head, but he was too frustrated with her to listen right now, and stamped a foot down causing the floor to tremble.

'What's your problem?' He retorted simply, but she was unmoved. 'It's like every time I do something, you point out how stupid or wrong it is. But why do you think I need to answer to you? You weren't here before – you're a visitor! How would you know what the purple dragon's supposed to be like!?'

Solaris nodded slightly as if she approved. 'You're right – you don't answer to me. But tell me, do you answer to the world?'

Spyro was about to answer, but froze as he realised what she meant.

'You... what do you know about the world?' Cynder asked guardedly. 'Didn't you spend most of your life with your people?'

Solaris nodded. 'Correct. And I haven't been here long, like you mentioned... but I do have eyes. I do hear things – and I know what you did, Spyro. All I'm trying to do is prepare you for the consequences.'

'Consequences?' Spyro repeated, a strange, stinging feeling entering his gut.

'Do you really think that the Realms will return to peace, and so quickly? That everyone's grateful to you for saving the world? While I am, I can't help but notice you're ignorant to your position.' She narrowed her eyes. 'I just read a report from an electric dragon commander, named Lattik, accounting the casualties after a battle on the outskirts of Avalar, near a location called "Tower Dam". His troops fought as well as they could, but in the end, after years of battles; this one being the last in line, they didn't know what their sacrifice really meant. In his eyes, the only hope for defeating Malefor – you – was nowhere to be seen. Despite a Guardian named "Ignitus" insisting you'd return, he didn't truly believe it. After three years of waiting without hope, I can't say I blame him. The longer he waited, the more of his troops died alongside him. It was almost like they'd given up.' She raised a claw and pointed. 'Their deaths in despair is your responsibility, Spyro, and you know it.'

Cynder was shocked. It was like, suddenly, all their efforts over the past months were... less. She'd mostly followed Spyro's lead, though, and didn't feel the full weight of Solaris' accusation. It would only be worse for him, and from the look on his face, she could tell he was crushed.

'Spyro, you don't need to listen to this...'

'No, she's right.' He inhaled heavily before eyeing Solaris uncertainly. 'I know that I made that decision... but... what am I supposed to do about it? I can't bring people back to life, and I'm in no position to offer my condolences, as the dragonkin are still scattered over the land...'

Solaris shook her head slowly, losing the stiff expression as she'd gotten her point across. 'I'm only saying that you shouldn't ignore the influence you will have. Even young as you are, other dragons will look to you for guidance, like Alaia here. You should know when you're helping or hurting them with your... kindness.'

She didn't say another word as she passed up the staircase. Alaia trembled a little as she came out from behind them.

'She's scary.'

Spyro's frustrated feelings with her were nearly gone, replaced with a mixture of clarity and shame. 'I... think she's just trying to help, even if she's really harsh about it.' He turned to glance at Cynder, grimacing uneasily. 'No offense, Cynder... but I think I'd fight you over her any day.'

Cynder simply smiled back at him, sympathy adorning her face before the three prepared to look through the building a little more before the break was over.


Solaris had pulled Volteer from his trance by the time they got back, clearly impatient to get back to the history lesson. Despite himself, Spyro felt his previous enthusiasm return, now that he knew Solaris had her own reasons for her treatment of him. He quickly figured that going easy on an opponent for mercy's sake was outright discouraged among the magma dragons; or worse.

Volteer stood at the central alcove, yawning a little before he cleared his throat.

'And so we come to the final module on Fire dragons; where they inherited the power, near the dawning of our race. Unfortunately, I don't know as much as I'd like to about these precursor dragons; those who had no powers at all. Makes me wonder how they could have possibly survived without the omnipresent elements among us today... How despondent they must have been!'

'Volteer!'

The electric Guardian quickly shook himself at Solaris' interruption. 'Ah, yes! So... can anyone tell me what they know of this subject before we begin?'

Alaia and Volteer's eyes shot over to Solaris expectantly, but she didn't have anything to say. Spyro raised his head instead.

'Volteer? The fire dragons got their powers from Zhuroth – a giant salamander made completely of fire.'

'Yes! Well done, Spyro.' Volteer puffed his frills with approval. 'I see you've already read something of the subject – however, how did Zhuroth bestow his powers upon them?'

Spyro frowned slightly. 'Well... the book I read only speculated about several conflicting tales, as there doesn't seem to be proof for any one over the others.'

Volteer nodded. 'A fair assessment.' He began pacing slowly around his alcove. 'It is clear that the ability to breathe fire allowed the early dragons to master their environment and thrive... for a time. This would allow them to adjust the temperature of their immediate environment, defend themselves against their enemies or possibly, even their predators... and cook food! The most important, in my opinion.

'I will tell you my own – possible rendition, a result of commingling tales that I've gone over in my span of years. Regardless of what the precursor dragons were or how they came to be, it's quite likely that they were suffering from a period of famine. From what I've gathered, this mostly was a result of a volcanic explosion that sent lava seeping through the once vibrant forests and grasslands, killing or driving away most of the dragons' natural prey. Unfortunately, this eruption occurred right in the middle of winter, leaving most dragons hungry or even starving, and they did not have the energy reserves to migrate away to find their prey; not even the strongest among them. Without food, along with the coming cold as the lava chilled, it was unlikely most of the tribe would survive.'

Solaris narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. 'If they couldn't survive the cold, why would they ever live in such a place?'

Volteer grimaced considerately. 'One possible explanation is that the eruption wiped out their shelters, along with most of the raw materials from trees needed to construct them. Though there will be other holes in my tale; it is, after all, a theory.'

He cleared his throat as he continued. 'While I haven't found a name for him, their leader decided to venture deep into the volcano looking for new places to live. However, the exterior of the volcano was barren and completely exposed to the elements, forcing him to crawl into its mouth. Now, the accounts afterwards vary wildly. Some claim he nearly starved to death searching inside. Some say he proved himself through traversing a variety of challenges through the lava tubes. Regardless, he eventually encountered Zhuroth in a wide underground cavern containing the lava of the now dormant volcano. He threw himself before the creature and begged for help.

'Now, Zhuroth listened and heard his pleas, and proposed his tribe come and live in the cavern until winter was over. While the leader was ever thankful, he still had to return to retrieve his tribe, and he suffered climbing some of the way with the exposure to heat. He eventually came back and delivered the message to his people, but died from his exertions not long after.

'Without their leader, all the dragons could do was follow his directions, and true to his word, Zhuroth allowed them to live with him until winter was over. It is unclear how, but when they emerged, they were – changed. They had become fire dragons within the short span of months. How, though? It's possible that after feeding on Zhuroth's similar prey, such as magma worms, fire beetles and buffalo beetles, they adapted the hot fluid in the insects to be expelled at will. A simpler and more ritualistic spin says that Zhuroth simply cradled them in hibernation with him during the time.

'However, what's truly fascinating to me is his last words in the numerous documents and accounts, all leaving the same line – "leave my firebrand upon the world as you return to it". This begs the question – why? Why did he help those dragons? It's rare for a creature to sacrifice its own resources without some sort of payoff.'

Solaris spoke up cautiously. 'Perhaps he just wanted to destroy other lands? It sounds like he wanted them to spread destruction around – he could have caused the volcano's eruption. Even then, he might have engineered the whole thing just so he could get his powers out of the volcano and exposed to the world.'

'Why would he want to do that?' Spyro asked quizzically, to which Solaris just shrugged.

'Perhaps he was simply tired of being trapped and sought some vessels to carry some of him with them.'

Volteer smiled at her with approval. 'An interesting theory. I must say, that's not the first motivation I'd conjure.'

Spyro twisted his muzzle. 'Maybe he did simply out of kindness? Maybe he was once a dragon himself? An ancient dragon that lost the use of his wings as he adapted... and passing on part of himself that can actually explore the world, while he might be stuck down there...'

Solaris glanced at him flatly. 'Now you're being ridiculous. If he was so kind, some others would have lived to talk about him.'

Volteer gave a quick shake of the head. 'No, no... both of you have a point. I'll be sure to add this to my discussions of the topic... ' He turned his head towards a bow window, and his face fell when he saw the time on the sundial. 'Oh, but would you look at that. How time flies when you're carousing...'

Cynder felt like her brain was about to burst. All these questions and arguments just seemed to tire her out, instead of invigorating her like it did Spyro or Solaris. Though she felt better as she told herself that hunting was coming up again, and definitely looked forward to stretching her wings and body out in flight.

Volteer nodded to himself as if still musing over the discussion. 'Yes, yes... time for you youngsters to go off with Nadina... she'll be waiting in the main courtyard. Off you go, now.'

As the three females moved towards the electric balcony downstairs, Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other before he approached Volteer. However, he was interrupted by a golden glow fling into his face, and he cracked a smile.

'Hey, Sparx. Have fun without me?'

Sparx nodded vehemently. 'Ah... yes! Mason let me get a tour of the stoneworks! Pretty heavy stuff, but really cool. Anyway...' He pursed his lips with displeasure. 'Nadina had to find me. It seems you're overdue for a hunt, though I saw those other girls leave without you. What's the deal?'

'I needed to talk to Volteer about something... sensitive.'

Sparx narrowed his eyes, hovering down to stare at Spyro inches away. 'Hmm... you're right. I haven't seen you this serious since the days back in the temple. And then the whole "DEMISE!" and "DOOM!" fiasco and whatnot came up.' He clenched his teeth a little. 'Don't tell me this is a demise-slash-doom thing?'

Spyro shook his head slowly. 'No, but it's still serious.'

'Fine. Let's go, then.'

Spyro smiled gratefully; having someone like Sparx around immediately lifted his spirits, even if it didn't always work.

'Volteer?'

The Guardian was already leaking his thoughts onto another leatherbark in the corner of the room, murmuring to himself with simultaneous etching sounds without even acknowledging the approaching brothers over his shoulder.

'... in accordance with the previous evidence for Zhuroth's identity, a purple dragon of prophecy and rare magma dragon have garnered their input, adding credence to two long-standing viewpoints – one, a possible degenerate (or incarnate, depending on your perspective) dragon, or a very potent and dangerous fire spirit. Still, if only an expedition could be conducted on concrete evidence as to the correct lava expeller, possibly with the adapted magma dragons leading the forefront into its mouth...'

Sparx simply folded his arms and glanced at Spyro, who nodded. The dragonfly quickly flew in front of Volteer's face, waving his arms about.

'Hey, airhead! Gotta problem here.'

Volteer stared at him before he quickly stood up, his flowing thoughts still coming out. 'Problem? What problem? The theory? Of course it is! Opinions constantly shifting, new evidence, viewpoints, influence! Need more data, need to analyse... If only Solaris were more forthcoming... or an elder! So much we could learn-'

Sparx answered him with an annoyed stare which cut him off. 'Ah – no. Spyro?'

Volteer turned to face Spyro curiously, who greeted him with an awkward smile. 'While that is interesting and all, Volteer – I wanted to ask you something serious.'

'Serious, Spyro?' He wondered gently, curling his body in a sitting position. 'Please, do elaborate, young dragon. If there's one pastime I enjoy, it's good old-fashioned problem-solving.'

Sparx perched himself on Spyro's shoulder as he sat on the stone floor, the purple dragon trying to find the right words so as to not alarm Volteer in any way.

'Volteer – I had a very weird dream last night. You know, like that time I dreamt about the tree?'

The electric Guardian nodded shortly. 'Yes – a terrible business, all that. Little did we know that you would disappear for years trying to find it... and the Chronicler.'

'This time... it was like I was in convexity. It reminded me too much of the Dark Master's portal...'

'Indeed?' Volteer raised a claw to his spiky chin. 'Describe more of what you saw.'

As Spyro went through the three key facts still present in his head, Volteer listened with fascination, but looked quite troubled when Spyro mentioned the eyes. Spyro quickly guessed that he was just as clueless to their nature as he was, even with all he knew. And then he described the sighting of the black dragons.

'... And that's what really bothers me right now.' Spyro managed to finish. 'The first thing I wanted to do was tell Cynder, but when I really thought about it...'

'...It would not help the situation?' Volteer finished, and Spyro nodded.

'I mean, what could she do?' Spyro questioned, more to himself than to anyone else. 'It's not like we can just go in and out of Convexity whenever we want. It's most likely impossible to ever go back – so she might just be stuck wondering what happened to her people for the rest of her life; instead of living a normal life just like any other dragon.'

Volteer gazed at him sympathetically. 'And yet here you are, stuck in a similar predicament.'

'I didn't choose to have that dream, Volteer.'

'Yes...' Volteer's eyes rose to the ceiling thoughtfully. 'What choice you have is what to do with it.'

Volteer remained silent for a moment, before his eyes brightened, spurning him to turn right around and sift through his pile of scrolls.

'Hey!' Sparx objected as he flew upwards to hover in the air indignantly. 'Are your books so important that you forget what we just talked about?'

Volteer didn't seem to hear him. Spyro watched on intently, wondering if Volteer really had forgotten.

Thankfully, Volteer quickly returned with a single scroll in his jaws, laying it out between them, but Spyro couldn't read the inverted runes. Sparx just stared at the small drops of saliva coating its edge in horror.

'Ah... here we are! Legends of Neratha – chapter twenty-seven – the disappearance of the shadow dragons.'

Disappearance?

Spyro slid his head forward with interest, but Volteer quickly skimmed over some of the words solemnly.

'There is very little left of them, I'm afraid. I wanted to start transcribing these scrolls we saved during the war, but few others are willing to help. But I digress.' He waved his claw over its entirety. 'Before I continue, Spyro – are you sure you want to hear this? What we have is rather speculative, but I did not intend to include this in my lessons... for good reason. There is nothing valuable to be learned from this.'

Spyro glanced away grimly for a moment. '... Yes. Please, Volteer.'

Volteer managed a small grin. 'Very well. What we know about the shadow dragons is... virtually... nothing.'

'What?' was Sparx's only reaction.

'You mean... you don't know anything?' Spyro echoed in disbelief.

Volteer frowned modestly. 'I'm the most familiar with our lore and stories, Spyro – and all I know is that they existed. And then they disappeared – both from the world and our record books. We don't even know when they disappeared, and they were very reclusive if no records of them exist, even taking into account Malefor's targeting of such records. If your dream was a bit more... solidified, it would be treated as a grand discovery! That they may have disappeared into Convexity at some point, departing from this world... But as you said, knowing or even theorising this does not help matters. I know little more about Convexity than the elusive dragons themselves.'

Spyro groaned heavily. 'So what now? What should I do, Volteer? I can't go looking for this place... wherever it is. But if I don't, I feel like I'm ignoring it... and that feels – wrong.'

'I understand, Spyro. But as you said, what can you do? I believe your place is here – but traces of your power will try and draw away from it. Perhaps that happened to Malefor as well...' His eyes fell a little, but he quickly drew Spyro's gaze firmly. 'Don't let this worry you, Spyro. Ignitus trusted you and your spirit with everything he had, and we'll do our best to do the same for you.'

Spyro didn't feel better. The thought of becoming exactly like Malefor stung his body like an electric shock.

'But how do you know? I know I don't want to... but I didn't want these dreams, either! What if it gets worse? If you really don't know anything about Convexity–'

'Spyro, calm down!' Sparx flew down in front of him, eyeing him decisively. 'Malefor's gone, remember? No brother of mine would ever be like that creep – don't you forget it.'

They glanced into each other's eyes, and Spyro nodded slowly. 'I guess I'm just... confused. Ignitus told me that I was nature's way of... balancing itself. The opposite of Malefor – a force of preservation, not destruction. But... Solaris... the way she talks, it's as if she wants me to be like Malefor. What if more dragons like her expect me to keep training to get stronger? So... if Malefor's gone... what force am I supposed to resist? Will my existence put the world out of balance again? I just don't know...'

Sparx exhaled worriedly. 'You're thinking too much, buddy.'

Volteer nodded at the dragonfly with approval. 'I'm inclined to agree, Spyro. This isn't healthy – especially for a creature with our lifespan. You showed fine judgement in asking me before making such a decision, but this backwards thinking which only causes you anxiety is something you need to overcome. This is part of the reason why I wanted to teach Cynder and you; to give you the mental capacity befitting your age. There's no need to be so stringent.'

Spyro paused and bowed his head thoughtfully, setting his thoughts back on to the everyday problems and benefits of a normal life, even with the looming threat of the dreams. He told himself that if he could ever find the means to investigate this dream, he would; but right now Warfang still needed his help. If that ever happened, he would tell Cynder then.

'Thank you, Volteer. I'll... try my best.'

Sparx grinned with approval along with Volteer, who nodded and returned to his notes. 'Don't worry about the other Guardians, Spyro. I'll make sure they get word of what you saw – and perhaps return to you with any new developments they come up with. In the meantime...' His eyes widened in alarm. 'You need to catch up with the others! Hurry!'

Spyro immediately blanched at the thought of Solaris chastising him upon finding they'd finished without him.

'Let's go, Sparx!'

Sparx momentarily thought of refusing, but one look at Volteer and the thought of being stuck there with him quickly changed his mind.

'OK! Can I hold onto your horn?'

'... fine. Just don't fidget.'

Volteer began humming to himself as the brothers scrambled downstairs to follow the hunting party, hunger beginning to claw at Spyro's belly.


Terrador and Cyril had just finished processing a mated pair of fire dragons who'd just arrived, along with a string of mole refugees; all directed by guards to find new homes. The meetings went relatively smoothly within the Grand Hall, as the Kennel mounds adjacent to the Elemental District weren't lacking for space, along with the District itself for the dragon pair. Yet it wasn't easy to hear how their one clutch of eggs was destroyed in their lair, beginning a life of constant movement and evasion. It was hard enough for dragons to raise eggs without the external threat – at least now they would be safe.

However, just when the pair was preparing to retire, a wind dragoness, of a shimmering silver, landed heavily just outside the doors and scrambled inside before the guards started closing the doors. 'Terrador, sir! First scout reporting after patrol.'

By the look on her face, it appeared to them she'd had troubling sightings. Cyril cleared his throat as he mentally prepared himself. 'Let's hear it then, madam.'

She stood before them for a moment to get her bearings before she eyes them resolutely, her gaze lingering on Terrador.

'I skirted the south borders, and came to rest at the cliffs overlooking Elipp Bay. While there, I saw the faint outlines of ships high up in the sky. I believe they were Skavenger ships.'

Terrador and Cyril glanced at each other uncertainly.

'Could they be the ones which captured Spyro and Cynder?' Cyril wondered. 'What could they want with us now? If they think they can take dragon captives – they've got another thing coming!'

'I understand, Cyril.' Terrador frowned thoughtfully. 'But we can't attack them before we're aware of their intent.' He looked to the scout. 'How many ships did you spot?'

'Five or six, sir. It may only be a scouting party; that or most of their fleet was wiped out a long time ago.'

Spyro couldn't have done that – could he? Cyril found the image of the young dragon destroying scores of ships a little too ridiculous to believe. More likely, their own neglect and lack of leadership might have separated them from the bulk of their forces, especially after years of fleeing Malefor's forces.

Terrador nodded gratefully. 'Thank you; you may go and rest if you wish. So long as you've nothing else to report?'

She appeared unusually pleased with his words. 'No, sir.'

She soon departed after a bow, but not before she ran her eyes over Terrador again, earning a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Cyril simply eyed his companion with slight displeasure at the sight.

'Sometimes I wonder if your females' return is a good thing or not.'

Terrador raised a brow uncomfortably. 'I... I'm not sure what you mean, my friend.'

'Please. I'm perfectly aware that you might be... tempted to shirk your duties among female company, in a manner of speaking. The problem is that your duties are far more important, especially right now.'

Terrador growled shortly. 'I know that. I haven't forgotten I'm a Guardian, Cyril, so you needn't worry yourself. Let's discuss the matter at hand.'

The two Guardians were soon debating the next course of action within their heads. Cyril clearly wanted to take the initiative and send a party to investigate right away, but Terrador doubted that they'd attack such a well-defended city for slaves or combatants when their chances were so low.

No, he believed that their appearance had little to do with them directly.

'Terrador, speak your thoughts. You know we can ill afford to tolerate those vermin so close to the city.'

Terrador shook his head slowly. 'Unless their current leader is a complete fool, they wouldn't attack Warfang with the odds so stacked against them.'

Cyril snorted derisively. 'Their leader was a fool. So much that he had to use Chirrops to speak for him! At least from what Spyro told us. So they very well may attack us – and we will respond accordingly in that eventuality.'

Terrador nodded his agreement. 'If they do. In the meantime, however – I think we should scout out the situation. They could be seeking shelter from the war, just like many refugees recently. It would be dishonourable to attack an opponent who may be in no shape to defend itself.'

Cyril frowned expectantly. 'I wonder what the Skavengers would say to our 'honour'. It would most likely be similar to our previous encounters – with them laughing in our faces and throwing their crude weapons. I'll not trust those scum.'

'I'm not asking you to.' Terrador growled a little before giving a deep yawn. 'I'll have to think on this. We can discuss this tomorrow morning before Volteer's last lesson for the week. Until then, Cyril.'

Cyril watched the Earth Guardian leave carefully. Only now he began to wonder if Terrador had the mental discipline to carry out his duties to the letter and deal with distractions appropriately. Or if he could handle both like he could, which was an extremely rare trait in a dragon. That discipline, at least, was one reason Cyril believed the Ice dragons were among the most fitting for governing nations.

He dismissed these thoughts with a misty snort as he followed Terrador to reflect on the Skavengers and their possible future dealings. He believed down to his very being that they would only mean trouble.