7. Introductions at the Dragon City
Bathed in the fading evening light that crept through the arched windows, the Earth Guardian Terrador plodded slowly through one of the many hallways in Warfang. He was on the second story of the stone building and could see the battlements and far beyond if he looked out to the west where the great disk of fire was slowly sinking below the horizon. Turning his emerald eyes away from the setting sun and the battlements, Terrador continued on his way, his mind full of thoughts that needed dwelling on.
Where was young Spyro? Had he found any signs of dragon life in his search? Would he return alone or with new dragons beside him? But for the answers to those questions, he would just have to wait.
"Master Terrador," called a voice.
The earth guardian turned to see who hailed him. Hunter picked up his pace for a few strides to catch up to the dragon and the two began to walk together, side by side. The cheetah looked over at the guardian, shielded from the worst of the dying sun's glare by the dragon's large head.
"The city is very quiet, isn't it?" he murmured to the dragon. "What brings you up here, may I ask?"
Terrador turned his gaze on the cheetah. Hunter had returned barely an hour ago with his search party in tow. They had searched for almost three days in the Valley of Avalar and the forests surrounding, but had found no signs of dragon life to be spoken of. It was in disappointment that they returned to Warfang.
"To think," Terrador replied in his deep baritone. "At times a dragon has the need to think on pressing matters. And what of you, Hunter? What brings you up here?"
"The same as you, of course," the cheetah replied, "and to watch the last of the sun's light. It is a magnificent sunset."
The two paused in their slow walk to stare out across the city at the sun setting beyond the battlements. It bathed the sky in molten gold and crimson red, illuminating every cloud and leaving not a drop of sky uncoloured. Terrador nodded his agreement, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Hunter glanced at the dragon out of the corner of his eye, predicting his thoughts and answering them.
"I'm sure young Spyro will deliver," he assured the dragon. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he is among those of your kind and preparing to return. We may have returned with nothing, but that young dragon has a knack for triumphing where others fail. We must have patience."
Terrador remained silent for a long while, gazing at the sun as it sank ever so slowly into darkness. Eventually he broke the silence he had begun, and answered the golden cheetah that stood patiently beside him.
"Even in these peaceful times, there are still troubles that plague our world. The purple dragon is our saviour, and to him we must have faith. I have no doubt that Spyro will return with others at his side."
The earth guardian turned away from the sunset and continued on his walk, Hunter striding silently beside him. But the silence didn't last very long. The two friends froze as the hollow sound of the bell echoed throughout the city, a lone, deep reverberating knoll. Surprised, Terrador turned his head on reflex towards the southern lookout tower. It was obscured from his view by various buildings, however the earth guardian was sure that was where the bell had been struck. Seconds later came the faint yell of a dragon, amplified in the silence.
"Dragons!" the voice called. "Dragons approaching the South Wall!"
Exchanging startled looks, Terrador and Hunter turned to race towards the south wall, hurrying along the hallway back the way they had come. The instant he was in open air, Terrador spread his massive wings and took flight. Below him, the agile Hunter raced the streets between buildings, attempting with some difficulty to keep up with the flying dragon. Again, the lookout dragon repeated himself, louder this time.
"Dragons!" he roared, beating the bell once more. "There are dragons approaching the South Wall!"
Terrador dove for the southern battlements, passing the lookout tower. He landed rather heavily on top of the wall, skidding in his haste, and attempted to dig his claws into the stone to stop from tumbling over the other side. Craning his head skyward, Terrador gazed upon the dark shapes in the sky that were slowly approaching the city.
Hunter joined him moments later, agilely climbing the wall to reach the earth guardian's side. The lookout dragon had stopped hollering, his job done now that he had alerted one of the guardians.
"Friend?" Hunter asked, eying the dark shapes in the sky. "Or foe?"
Terrador never took his eyes off the dark mass of dragons, "I cannot say, Hunter. My eyesight fails me in my old age. Look closer and tell me what you see."
The cheetah rested his paws on the battlements and gazed hard at the approaching dragons, narrowing his eyes. As the last of the sun's light faded it was hard to distinguish them, but Hunter's sharp eyes picked up what Terrador's could not.
"The purple dragon," he breathed, causing the earth guardian to shoot him a hard look.
"Are you sure?"
"There is no mistaking that young dragon," Hunter replied, and pointed with a paw. "Watch as he comes closer."
Terrador gazed closely at the dragon Hunter was pointing to, his eyes strained against the darkness. Then did the green dragon realise what Hunter had seen, that which had convinced him it was indeed the returning purple dragon. Gliding ahead of the dark mass of dragons was a glowing yellow light, so small in the distance it could have been mistaken for a star. Surprised that he hadn't noticed it sooner, Terrador let a smile creep onto his face.
"Sparx," he murmured. "So, young Spyro has returned."
"How many did you send with him?" Hunter asked, attempting to count the dark shapes that followed behind the glowing speck that was Sparx.
"Nine," Terrador replied, "not including himself and Cynder. Any dragon with a single eye could see that there is more returning than what he left with. How many can you count, Hunter?"
The cheetah peered close at the approaching hoard, his eyes darting backwards and forwards between the dark shapes as he attempted in vain to count them. Hunter shook his head slowly.
"I cannot say for sure," he told the earth guardian, "thirty, perhaps, or more."
"He has done well," Terrador replied, satisfied, "the purple dragon never fails to impress."
It was almost dark by the time Warfang came into view. It appeared on the horizon tinted gold by the sinking sun. Spyro breathed a contented sigh and beat his tired wings faster, glad to have finally returned to the great dragon city. Behind him the tired dragons flew, their heads drooping from the exhaustion of the long flight. Ember and Flame flew alongside him, though neither had spoken a word for a few hours now. Cynder, too, flew in tired silence at his side.
Yawning, Spyro heard the faint tolling of a bell in the distance and couldn't help but smile. The lookout dragon must have spotted them.
"Sounds like they've seen us," he mentioned to Cynder.
She turned tired emerald eyes on him and nodded, but said nothing. Ember yawned and peered at the city through drooping eyes.
"Is that Warfang?" she asked, stifling another yawn.
"That's it," Spyro replied simply, watching Sparx zigzag in front of him.
Flame didn't seem too impressed, "It'd look better if I wasn't so tired. Why couldn't we stop for the night?"
Spyro shrugged, "There was no need to. We made it here by night, so why stop?"
Flame replied with a silent glare and turned his eyes away from the purple dragon moments later, mumbling inaudibly under his breath. At last the sun's feeble light faded from the sky and the dragons were plunged into darkness. Spyro yawned, his eyes focusing sleepily on the south wall of Warfang, which they were slowly approaching. He wasn't quite sure, but there appeared to be two figures, one larger than the other, standing on top of the battlements, waiting.
Sparx darted in front of his face, startling him, and the dragonfly continued his zigzagging pattern through the night sky. Spyro felt his eyes droop as he watched the hypnotizing swaying of the yellow dragonfly.
"Look," Cynder's voice brought him back to reality, although she spoke soft.
She gestured with a paw to the wall and Spyro's attention was again drawn to the dark figures watching them. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Spyro was sure that the stocky figure of the dragon belonged to that of the earth guardian, Terrador.
"Is that Terrador?" Cynder asked, thinking the same. "It looks like he's waiting for us. Who's with him?"
Spyro shrugged and focused instead on the thin figure that stood beside the guardian. Cloaked in darkness, Spyro could see very little of the figure, but its slim build told him one thing.
"It's a cheetah," he said to Cynder. "I wonder who. Prowlus, perhaps?"
Cynder merely shrugged and, as they closed in on the south wall, she and Spyro made their descent. They soared towards the wall, more than forty dragons at their back, following the glowing light of Sparx. Terrador's voice hailed them from within the darkness, confirming that the dark figure of the dragon was indeed he.
"Welcome, young dragons!" the guardian called. "Bring your group down to the courtyard. I will guide you there!"
The guardian took to the air and turned gracefully towards the courtyard near the centre of the city. Spyro followed him gratefully, passing by the lookout tower in which an open fire lantern illuminated the dragon within. The purple dragon led the group of dragons down, over the buildings, and into the courtyard where they were greeted with warm light from surrounding fiery lanterns.
Spyro touched down on the cobblestones harder than he intended and stumbled slightly as he regained his balance. Cynder alighted beside him, more graceful, as Flame and Ember followed suit. Behind them the other dragons landed, relieved to be finally out of the air and on firm ground where they could rest their tired wings.
Terrador stood before them, his green scales tinged orange by the light of the fire from the lanterns around them. He smiled warmly at Spyro and beckoned for him to come closer.
"Welcome back, young dragon," the earth guardian greeted him, "I see you have brought others back with you. I had hoped you would succeed. Come, you must be tired. Introductions can wait until morning."
"Thank you, Terrador," Spyro yawned sleepily, swaying on his feet.
Terrador paused to give Cynder a warm smile before turning to the large group that stood nervously in the courtyard, some half asleep and others glancing around curiously.
"Listen to me, my comrades," Terrador called to the crowd, gathering their attention. "To those who are new, Welcome to Warfang. It is late and I'm sure you are tired. For tonight, the Grand Atrium shall be your sleeping quarters. Tomorrow, however, I assure you that you will all receive your own separate quarters. The city is glad to have you. Now, if you will, follow me to the Atrium. It isn't far."
There were some grumbles within the crowd, but most seemed in favour of the decision. Terrador dismissed the nine members of Spyro's search party and they gratefully staggered off home, leaving Spyro, Cynder and the earth Guardian to deal with the newcomers. Terrador beckoned to the crowd and slowly plodded his way towards the Atrium. Spyro hesitated for a moment, before gesturing to Cynder.
"Come on," he murmured to her. "We'll help Terrador."
Although she was tired, Cynder didn't object. The two teenage dragons hurried after the crowd, Sparx trailing behind, noticing that Ember and Flame were lagging behind. Ember looked as though she were ready to fall asleep where she stood, but Flame was taking in his surroundings with interest as though he had suddenly forgotten his exhaustion. Spyro nodded at them as he and Cynder passed, but Flame only glanced at them and didn't say a word.
Catching up to Terrador, Spyro and Cynder slowed to the larger dragon's pace, their wings drooping with fatigue.
"You should return to your rooms," Terrador advised softly. "You look as though you are ready to drop, young dragons. Go now, I can handle these dragons."
But Spyro refused, insisting on at least walking the new dragons to the Atrium. Cynder sighed and plodded alongside him, wishing she were back in her room and fast asleep. Surprisingly, Sparx appeared wide awake and was flying erratically around Terrador's head. Spyro watched him for a moment until the dragonfly's movement made him dizzy.
At last the Atrium came into view and Terrador stopped to address the crowd. Half asleep, Spyro zoned out and let his tired eyes wander over the dark streets of the city. Cynder nudged him, catching his attention.
"Come on," she urged, "let's go. Terrador can handle them now."
Spyro turned to look at the guardian to see that he was already guiding the newcomers through the large doors of the Atrium. The purple dragon finally agreed and, after calling Sparx to him, followed Cynder back to their rooms. Moments later, after Cynder had left to her own room, Spyro found himself sprawled across all three of the yellow cushions in his room. Sparx zipped backwards and forwards over his head, glowing like a nightlight. The purple dragon groaned and attempted to focus on the image of his surrogate brother.
"Sparx," he sighed, "settle down, would you? I want to sleep."
But the dragonfly continued to zigzag back and forth throughout the room, "Sorry, Spyro old boy! I feel like I've got too much energy!"
He whooped and zoomed across the room again, almost hitting the wall before doubling back and turning circles around Spyro's head.
"Must have been something in those spices!" the dragonfly surmised, zipping past the bookshelf and upsetting the dust that had settled on the shelves.
Finally fed up with the dragonfly, Spyro sat up and breathed a cloud of icy air over him. The particles of ice froze on Sparx's wings and he fluttered to the ground, half-frozen and shivering. Spyro gathered him in his wing and pulled the dragonfly close to his body, defrosting the ice slowly. Sparx didn't say a word and lay shivering, wrapped in the purple dragon's wing, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Glad of the silence, Spyro was finally able to close his eyes and, within seconds, lost his consciousness to the land of dreams.
Mid-morning found two dragons standing on the steps of the Atrium, waiting patiently for three others to approach. Spyro and Cynder had been up at first light despite their tiredness and, after a much needed meal, had headed for the Atrium. They stood together, waiting for the three Guardians to catch up, Sparx hovering between them. Volteer and Cyril had been quite pleased to see Spyro back so soon, and even more so at hearing that their mission had been successful. Now, though, they seemed in no rush to meet the new dragons.
Spyro looked around, impatience catching up with him as he waited for the three older dragons. Warfang looked much the same as it had since he had left a few days ago, though he could see traces where the moles had begun the clean up and rebuilding of the damaged parts of the city. Unknown to either of the two young dragons, a tall figure approached from the side, so silent neither noticed.
"Good to see you back, Spyro."
The purple dragon jumped in shock, almost knocking Cynder over as he leapt sideways into her. Hunter laughed at his reaction and Spyro relaxed once he realised whom it was. The cheetah rested one of his paws on the column beside him.
"I thought Sparx was the jumpy one," he joked, flashing his fangs in a smile.
Spyro grinned, "Guess it's rubbed off on me. I hadn't expected you to be back so soon, Hunter."
Hunter shook his head, disappointment on his face, "Yes, unfortunately our search proved fruitless. We returned not long before you did, young dragon, although I must say you were more successful than I. But you must be exhausted after such a long journey in such a short time."
Cynder shook her head, "Not really. We slept well last night."
"Yes," Spyro agreed, "we're just waiting to show the new dragons around the city. But the guardians are taking their time."
Hunter turned his eyes towards the three guardians, who had stopped to talk amongst each other. The cheetah couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see Volteer's jaw moving so quickly it was almost a blur.
"They are older than we are, Spyro," he said, turning back to the purple dragon, "they tend to do things slower."
"You got that right," Sparx agreed, somewhat rudely.
Spyro ignored the dragonfly and instead addressed Hunter, "Will you stick around?"
"Yes," the cheetah replied after a moment, "I would like to meet these dragons. How many did you return with? I attempted to count last night, but in the dark it is rather hard to see."
"So you were the one we saw on the battlements last night," Spyro muttered, more to himself than to Hunter, before answering. "I think there's about thirty. I didn't count them myself."
Before Hunter could answer the purple dragon, the Guardians finally approached the Atrium steps. All three were looking rather excited, although Sparx was sure that Volteer always looked excited.
"Shall we?" Cyril suggested, gesturing towards the door and gazing at each of the dragons in turn.
"Of course," Terrador replied, moving forward as Sparx muttered an exasperated 'Finally!'
The earth guardian's eyes fell on Hunter as he realised the presence of the cheetah, which he had not noticed before. Hunter smiled and bobbed his head respectively at the green dragon, his paws hidden beneath his wide, red cloak.
"Ah, Hunter," Terrador said to the cheetah, "good to see you here. Would you do the honours?"
He gestured towards the large oak doors of the atrium and Hunter obliged without argue, bracing himself as he gripped the brass handles of the doors and pushed. They groaned slowly inwards, wood scrapping on stone with a noise not unlike that of a sword being drawn from its sheath, and revealing the darkened hallway within. Light poured in through the open doorway, illuminating the white tiles along the walls and the pale grey stone of the floor. Hunter stood to the side as the guardians approached.
"Thank you, Hunter," Terrador murmured, smiling as he passed the cheetah and stepped into the hallway.
Cyril and Volteer followed close behind, the latter literally vibrating with excitement. Spyro looked up at Hunter, but the cheetah gestured him in with the simple words of "after you, Spyro." Side by side, Cynder and Spyro stepped into the hallway and followed the guardians with Hunter and Sparx bringing up the rear. The doors of the Atrium remained open, granting the windowless hallway morning light.
As the small party stepped into the large main hall of the Atrium, multiple eyes turned to them. It was brighter here than in the hallway, gathering light from the multiple arched windows that were set high in the walls. Spyro looked around the room for familiar faces and saw Flame and Ember sitting at the far side of the room, heads down in conversation. Naxos and Chios weren't far away, the former having raised his head and grinned at Spyro as he'd entered.
Most of the dragons began to get to their feet, and Spyro lost sight of Flame and Ember amongst the rising crowd. Terrador gazed around the room with a pleased look on his face.
"Please," he called, "no need for formalities. You may sit."
A few of the dragons remained standing, but most sat back on their haunches with relieved sighs. Spyro could see Naxos pushing his way to the front, stopping to snap at a red dragon as his paw was trodden on. His attention was diverted by Terrador's voice.
"Now, my guests," the earth guardian called, "if there is anyone here you consider the leader of your clan, would you please step forward?"
There were a few mutterings as heads turned around, searching for the dragon that matched that description. The old orange dragon plodded his way through the ranks, Seriphos not far behind, his brown eyes fixed on Terrador.
"That would be me, I suppose. It's been a while. Terrador, isn't it?" Thasos asked, coming to a stop at the head of his clan.
"By the ancestors," Cyril breathed, "it can't be…!"
But Terrador knew it was, "Thasos. This is an unexpected surprise. And here we all thought you had perished on the night of the raid."
Spyro and Cynder exchanged surprised glances, as it dawned on them that the Guardians and Thasos knew each other. But as usual, it was Sparx who voiced the question.
"Wait a minute," he called, flying between Terrador and Thasos, "you guys know each other? Have I missed something?"
Terrador smiled in amusement, "Yes, Sparx, Thasos and I are acquainted. In fact Thasos was…"
"We know," Spyro cut in suddenly, stepping forwards, "he was Ignitus's rival. He could have become Fire Guardian if Ignitus hadn't. That's how you know him, isn't it?"
Terrador raised his eyebrows and turned his green eyes on Thasos, "You told him this?"
"I did," the orange dragon confirmed, "before I was aware of Spyro's connection to my old friend. I hear he has passed on, old Ignitus."
Terrador nodded his large head solemnly, "I am afraid that is correct. I can only imagine what his expression would have been had he been here today to see you return from the grave."
"From the grave, Terrador?" Thasos chuckled. "Nay, merely from hiding. I admit I had believed you three to have gone to your rests by now. It does my heart good to see the Guardians still live."
"Indeed," Terrador agreed, "and we have Spyro to thank for reuniting us."
Spyro blushed in embarrassment and said nothing, although all eyes had turned to him for a split second. He busied himself with looking for Flame and Ember amongst the crowd, but they appeared hidden amidst the larger dragons. His eyes fell instead on Seriphos, who was staring intently at Terrador with a strange expression on his face. It was though there were many emotions running through his mind, mixing together and becoming confused.
"I see you have quite a group, Thasos," Terrador said to the orange dragon, "Might you introduce them to me?"
"Of course," Thasos said, turning his head, "although, if I'm not mistaken, there's already one here who knows you."
"Oh?" Terrador's eyes widened in curiosity as Thasos stepped aside to reveal the green dragon behind him.
"Master Terrador," Seriphos murmured, his voice oddly strained, and looked as though he could find no more to say.
Shock registered deeply on Terrador's face, even more so than when he had beheld Thasos. Cyril frowned and leant close to Volteer, whispering something that Volteer confirmed with an unsure bob of his head.
"By the ancestors," Terrador said, echoing what Cyril had said moments before, "Seriphos, you have grown."
"Master!" Seriphos exclaimed, suddenly bowing his head so low it almost grazed the ground, bending his knees into a swift bow.
Terrador chuckled, "Raise your head, young dragon, you have no need to be so formal around me. I see you are no longer the young adolescent I once knew, but to me you still remain a young dragon. If it wasn't for your eyes I may not have recognised you. You have grown into a fine dragon, Seriphos."
Shaking, Seriphos raised himself from his bow and hesitantly looked Terrador in the eye, "Thank you, Master Terrador. I am honoured by your praise. It is good, no, excellent to see you again. I had feared you dead!"
"And I you, young dragon, and I you."
Spyro cast Cynder a confused look but she merely shrugged. Volteer supplied the answer, leaning close to Spyro's head and whispering.
"Terrador's old pupil! I hear he was quite the handful!"
Terrador must have heard, for he turned his eyes on the electricity guardian and said aloud, "Indeed, Volteer, not unlike you when you were young. But Seriphos, it appears, has grown into a much finer dragon that one would expect having known his younger self."
Seriphos shifted in embarrassment but said nothing. Spyro looked up at the earth guardian questionably and Terrador, guessing the question, provided the explanation.
"Whilst I was undergoing training to become the Earth Guardian," Terrador began, "it was suggested by my master that I take on my own pupil. I was about as old as Seriphos is now, at that time. It was suggested that I train a young dragon to become captain of the guard, considering my proficiency at warfare tactics and the like. When I met Seriphos he was a young dragon, not much older than you are now, perhaps even younger. He was, as Volteer said, quite a handful. But I disciplined him as much as he disciplined me. He was a headstrong young earth dragon, strong and smart, the perfect candidate for a captain."
"I trained him for about three years, until my guardian training was finished. After that we parted, although it was hard to leave my young pupil. We had formed quite a bond after all. But I left him with an adept new master, whom I trusted to complete his training. Indeed, Seriphos, whatever happened to your master?"
Heads turned to Seriphos, who had been listening with some embarrassment to Terrador's tale. His expression became sombre and he let out a deep sigh.
"My master," he murmured, "we believe was lost that night, during the raid. Mistress Selador, although she always preferred I call her master, was indeed a wonderful teacher. Her loss is…not something I could explain with words. She disappeared that night, in the middle of chaos, and we never saw her again. I have no doubt that she was killed, although she was the best warrior I knew. With her gone, it does me good to see that you,at least, are still living."
"I am sorry to hear that," Terrador sighed, "Selador was as good a dragoness as I had ever known. She will be deeply missed."
A few moments of silence passed between the dragons, until Terrador broke it once again.
"It is good to see the both of you once again," Terrador said to Seriphos and Thasos, "but I think it's time to greet the rest of your group. I'm sure we're all sick of waiting here in this bland old hall. So if you could all just bear with me for a few moments, allow me to introduce myself and the other guardians and formerly welcome you to the city of Warfang."
"My name is Terrador, the Earth Guardian," he called, his voice strong and loud. "Behind me are Cyril, Guardian of Ice, and Volteer, Electricity Guardian. The Fire Guardian, as I am sure you have all heard, was a dragon named Ignitus. He is no longer among us, may the ancestors look after him. This is the great city of Warfang, the centre of the dragon world and home to dragons from all across the land. Welcome, all of you, to the great dragon city; your new home."
A chorus of cheers responded to Terrador's little speech, and Thasos smiled warmly at the guardians.
"Thank you for your hospitality. It is an honour to finally set foot in the mighty city of Warfang. Come forward everyone, introduce yourselves to the guardians."
There were no arguments as every dragon hurried forwards to greet the three guardians. Spyro noticed Naxos arguing with that same red dragon and couldn't suppress a grin when the yellow dragon smacked his opponent upside the head with his tailblade. Just as the red dragon was about to retaliate, Chios pushed her way between them and led Naxos away, rolling her eyes. Spyro supposed this happened a lot.
The red dragon turned away, annoyed, and came face to face with Flame, who was standing behind him. Flame was smaller than this red dragon, but he didn't seem at all intimidated. Spyro strained to hear what he was saying.
"…Beaten by Naxos, Delos?" Flame was smirking. "And I thought you could sink no lower…"
"Leave him be, Flame," Ember called, exasperated, as she came up behind the two red dragons.
The older red dragon, Delos, snarled half-heartedly at Flame but didn't make any move towards him. Terrador's voice boomed over the crowd as Delos stepped away from the two young dragons.
"Thasos, could you do a head count?" The earth guardian called.
"Of course!" Thasos called back. "Hold still everyone."
But Flame and Ember didn't seem to have heard that order. They slunk their way through the crowd to Spyro's side, stopping beside him as Thasos began to count. Flame couldn't help but glare at the purple dragon, noticing he had been watching the quarrel with Delos.
"What were you looking at?" he growled, softly so that no one else but Spyro heard.
"Nothing," replied Spyro carefully, "I was just wondering who that other dragon was. A friend of yours?"
"Friend?" Flame snorted at the very idea, "Hardly. That was Delos. He's an idiot and he likes picking fights. Of course, he never beats me."
"Don't be cocky, Flame," Ember teased, turned her blue eyes on Spyro. "Delos and Flame are always at each other's throats. Although, I don't think he and Naxos are exactly friends either."
Spyro grinned back at her as Cynder slunk her way over to his side. She refrained from giving the pink dragoness a reproachful look and instead settled with planting herself between them. Flame huffed noisily, expelling smoke from his nostrils.
"Thirty-two!" Thasos exclaimed suddenly. "But wait…"
The orange dragon frowned in confusion and turned his head as though looking for something. When his eyes fell on Flame and Ember, his expression brightened.
"Ah, there you are!" Thasos exclaimed, "That makes thirty-four, Terrador!"
But the earth guardian didn't seem to have heard the orange dragon. His eyes were fixed on the two young dragons standing beside Spyro and Cynder. They couldn't be any older than the famous purple dragon and his black dragoness, but Terrador had thought that all the eggs from the temple had been smashed the night of the raid.
The young red dragon turned to look at Terrador, sensing the green dragon's eyes on him, and scowled as though challenging him. The pink dragoness noticed the glare and followed his gaze to the earth guardian, wondering why her friend was glaring at the older dragon.
"Spyro," Terrador murmured, his voice catching in his throat, "why…why didn't you tell me? You've brought young dragons back…"
Cyril and Volteer craned their heads over, their faces bearing identical expressions of bemused shock, and muttering words such as 'impossible!' and 'unbelievable!'.
"Oh," Spyro replied, turning to look at Flame and Ember, "I guess I forgot."
"But, all the eggs were supposed to have been destroyed!" Cyril called, his voice carrying shrilly in the silence. "How can this be?"
"There'll be time for answers later," Terrador interrupted, before anyone could answer the Ice Guardian's question, "First, tell us your names, young dragons."
Every head turned to the red and pink dragons, making the both of them slightly uncomfortable. Ember stepped forwards carefully, pretending not to notice that all eyes were on her.
"Ember, sir," she murmured shyly, bowing her head and quickly stepping back.
Flame mimicked her with more confidence. He stepped forwards strongly and looked Terrador dead in the eye, an unspoken challenge glimmering in his ferocious golden eyes. Instantly Terrador knew that this one was going to be a handful.
"Flame," the young red dragon called in the silence, his voice strong and without the quiver that Ember's voice had carried, "my name is Flame!"
Quite strongly, Terrador was reminded of the headstrong Ignitus as he had once been as a young dragon. One look at Flame's flashing, golden eyes, and Terrador knew: he and the other guardians were in for a lot of trouble.
A/N: School + Writers block + Laziness/Procrastination = slow updating. A bit of a hard chapter to write. I wanted it to be more interesting, but my imagination stopped working. Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! ^.^
