"Huh," Goon said at the warped dark sky. "Ain't that pretty. Anyway..." He canted his head at Spyro, the purple dragon hunched, his teeth clenched and eyes dilated. Goon squatted and leaned his head forward. "Aw, come on. Raziela ain't that ugly."

Raziela snarled down at him, "Not funny, Goon! We came here to kill not to joke!"

Goon cast a dubious look at her. "I'm with a walking one, what do you expect?"

Raziela sucked her teeth. "A little bit of pertinence would save you a lot of..." She tilted her at Spyro. "What's wrong with him?"

Goon nearly retorted until Spyro caught his attention again. The feral took a step forward, his head askew.

Spyro's claws clenched the grass, his breathing ragged and wings spread. White luminescence coalesced off his eyes. He tossed his head up, and a stentorian roar resounded from him, guttural, abandoned. He lurched upon his trembling fours. "Black Star."

Cynder's sight shifted from the ferals to Spyro. "Where?"

Spyro strained out his words. "Don't know...close...the eyes...through his eyes." He swallowed, his breaths shallow. "He's killed two already."

Hunter rushed forward and grabbed Spyro's shoulder. He pointed at Raziela and Goon. "Spyro! That's them!" Spyro's quaking head rose, his eyes as glowing slits. Hunter backpedaled from him. "Spyro..."

Spyro took a languid step towards Raziela and Goon. His purple scales darkened to midnight, and a frigid white aura slithered around him. Hunter joined Cynder's side. "What's happening to him?"

Cynder didn't have time to explain. "A gift and a curse. I don't know why he's..." She shouted to Spyro, "Nothing left!"

Spyro didn't acknowledge her. She shouted the words again. No reaction. He took another step towards Raziela and Goon.

Raziela and Goon stepped back, the energy from Spyro like a cold closing fire. Raziela said nervously, "Goon?"

"Yeah?" Goon said with a cringe.

"Have you seen that before?"

"No."

A moment of cogitation. "What should we do?"

A bright blue sphere of flame barreled towards them. The two dove from its path. The element left a long blackened trail in its wake.

Goon said, "That."

Raziela shrieked, "Ya think?"

"Again."

"Again?"

Spyro lunged at them. He reared his paw back, his sight on Goon. The fire concentrated around his arm. Goon's image blurred. Spyro ignored the phenomenon and brought his arm down. His power made contact with a hiss and boom, an explosion of soil and grass.

Spyro searched the smoking crater. Nothing. Crackling energy flashed to the right of his periphery. He brought his arm up just as Goon jabbed with weapon. The tips pierced Spyro's forearm, absorbed the slithering azure element. Double or Nothing now seethed with Spyro's power.

Goon palmed Spyro's muzzle and yanked out the horns. The coruscating power cast an amethyst glow upon the feral's russet scales. Goon's smug expression shifted to confusion as his arm trembled. "The hell?"

Spyro's dementia receded, and his cognizance returned. He realized then: Goon's weapon leeched his exposed element. The feral, however, struggled to contain it. Spyro exhaled a gout of fire at Goon. The air shimmered with its heat, and his opponent's gold eyes reflected the roiling flame.

Goon grabbed his own forearm and directed his charged Double or Nothing at the fire. "Need this back?" The tips of his weapon crackled, and a cerulean bolt flashed forth and struck Spyro's chest. Spyro reeled back, tumbled and rolled, his body battered and vision blurred.

Goon sprinted towards him, his weapon poised to impale. A smoky black figure obstructed him, the feral's scales alight with the red glow of her eyes. Cynder spread her wings, the tips hazed in blackness. Goon halted and peered up at her. "Uh, hi. You mad?"

Cynder struck his jaw and launched him into the air. He landed on his back and exhaled upon impact. He managed to croak, "Why so much hate?"

Cynder followed up only to be distracted by the cracking air from Raziela's Shattersound. A concussive forced surged towards the dragoness. Cynder turned and exhaled, and a great gale shrieked forth. The energy from the two waves met with a deafening clap, a dissipating pillar of force.

The debris cleared. Raziela and Cynder glared at each other. Raziela's clawed feet kicked up grass, and her spear sung as it swung towards Cynder. The dragoness bobbed her head only for the butt end of the weapon to meet her throat. Raziela flipped the weapon, the bladed end aimed for Cynder's head.

Cynder's serpentine neck wound away from the blade, and her paw connected with the feral's jaw. Raziela staggered and crouched as she recovered from the blow. Cynder fought for air, wheezed as it gradually came back.

Goon leaped to his feet as Spyro barreled towards him, the dragon's body within a shroud of fire. Goon chuckled, his weapon ready to absorb the flames.

Spyro's fire extinguished. A gauntlet of sharpened ice sickles formed around his paw as he cocked his arm, its frozen blades intent upon Goon's abdomen. Goon bowed his body. The tips of the gauntlet snagged him, and a knifing cold pain reeled him back, the bloody gashes on his belly frozen.

Spyro splayed his paw. A plume of gelid mist erupted from the gauntlet. He tilted his head at Goon.

Goon tilted his head in return. "So? I can do that too." He made a hissing sound and shook his weapon. Spyro retorted with an underhand strike. Goon caught the gauntlet between his weapon. He pivoted his hips and struck Spyro's chin with a hooking palm and collapsing elbow. Spyro retaliated with a headbutt.

Goon stumbled as blood trickled from his nostrils. He regained his balanced, and with a flick of his wrist a plume of gelid air erupted from Double or Nothing. He grinned. "Looky what I can do."

An idea came to Spyro, a risky one, but one that made sense to him when he considered the material of Goon's weapon. He exhaled, and the air hummed as a sharp burst of lightning shot towards Goon.

Goon blurred to the side. Spyro grunted and smirked. "You can only hold one, can't you?"

"Um..." Goon thinned his lips. "Can too."

"Can what?"

"Exactly."

Spyro blinked. The air grew thick with ozone, and a bright electrifying dome spanned from him. The electricity impacted Goon, and he dug his weapon into the ground to arrest his momentum. He rose to his fours and thrust Double or Nothing, and from the tips came a barrage of glacial slivers. Spyro darted off angle, evaded the majority of the swarm. Several slivers embedded into his shoulders and forearms, a needling pain that chilled and numbed his muscles.

Goon's weapon now seethed with crackling, ocher light. "Figured you wanted that one back too..." He gaped. "Oh yay." He backpedaled as Spyro rained down slashes from two bladed ice gauntlets. Goon moved up angle to Spyro's periphery, his thrust aimed at the dragon's temple.

A wall of black brambles rose from the ground, arrested Goon's weapon. Goon yanked, only for the walls to fall. Spyro's horns rammed Goon's head, his paw at the feral's throat. Spyro whirled him to the ground. He inhaled: another torrent of flame. A great bellow of stream erupted upon contact. He slid back from the heat only for Goon to emerge from the vaporized ice. Goon shook the ice shield's remnants from his hand. "Nifty, ain't it?"

The feral was unaware of the dark dragoness behind him.

Cynder's tail struck Goon across his back. The dragoness whirled around, caught sight of Raziela's advance. Cynder batted Raziela's stab to the side. Her and the female feral briefly locked eyes. Cynder swiped. Raziela weaved under the attack, and her weapon sliced up at an angle across the dragoness' chest.

Cynder bobbed her head back. The feral's blade left a red gash across her neck. The dragoness inhaled through clenched fangs, breathed a stream of venom that rippled through the air. Raziela skidded back and pivoted, and her legs pumped as she tried to circumvent the homing acid. It gained on her, bit at her scales. The feral cringed, and with a cry she spun Shattersound. The weapon pulled the poison into a cyclone, dispersed it as she released a deafening shriek.

Cynder countered with a wall of wind, pushed the poison back towards Raziela. The female feral hadn't expected the counter. She shielded herself behind her weapon, her eyes shut.

Goon intercepted, and the acidic droplets flowed into his weapon. Its horns glowed a brilliant green, and with a wave of his arm he sent an arc of poison back at Cynder, who narrowly ducked the attack. He said to Raziela, "You're welcome."

Raziela shoved Goon away from the path of an electrical sphere. She lent him a smug look just as Spyro rushed in. The ferals parted. Raziela faced off against Spyro. Her weapon revolved through the air in figure-eights, her red eyes narrowed.

She cycled Shattersound over her head. Spyro took the opening only to be intercepted by her tail, her singing weapon in its wake. Spyro dropped height, and a tinnitus rung in his ears as the blades passed his head. He waited for her preemptive tail-swipe.

He caught the end of her tail between his fangs and bit down. Blood spurted from the perforations, the taste of hot saline down his gullet. Raziela shrieked with an intensity that rattled Spyro's vision, and his ears throbbed against the pitch. He sought his equilibrium as Raziela bore down upon him, his evasion compromised by his skewed depth perception. Raziela's whirling strikes nicked him, cut him, gouged him.

A brief pause in the feral's flurry. Spyro's paw snaked out and seized the weapon. He yanked, and his horns connected with her skull. Raziela cried out again but didn't give ground. Spyro slung his other arm around her neck and drove her to the ground. He bit at her neck as the feral writhed beneath him, retaliated with her own heated snaps.

She clouted him beneath his jaw line, dazed him. She scrabbled to her feet and reclaimed Shattersound, swung it with abandon. Spyro caught another opening only for two stabbing prongs to sink into his ribcage. He pivoted, his attacker now a blur.

A whisper in his hear. Goon said, "Hi."

Spyro turned only to to receive a blow from his other side. Goon moved with unnatural speed, left a trail of darkness in his wake. Spyro recognized the signature: Cynder's darkness. The red feral switched between elements with every opportunity.

Spyro rose on his haunches and brought his paws together. The ground beneath him moaned and rumbled in anticipation. He struck the earth. A fractal of fissures circled out from him, and a pale green light emanated as they opened.

Goon stumbled and fell. His clawed hand grabbed a hold of the edge. He cast his sight down: a dark pit beneath him. Another rumble ensued as the wall of soil across from him approached, threatened to swallow him. He summoned the darkness from his weapon, to phase out of this compromised position. Nothing. His weapon was drained.

A strong hand wrenched him from the closing fissure. He met Raziela's enraged expression with a smile. "Nice save. You seem upset."

Raziela screamed, "YOU'RE GETTING THE TREE LATER!" She canted her head behind her.

Cynder manifested behind them within a black plume. Raziela swiped at her, the dragoness' form a wisped illusion. Cynder's tail swept both ferals' legs out from underneath them. The dragoness' spiked tail lifted, aimed for Raziela's belly. Goon caught the attack between Double or Nothing, twisted the dragoness' tail and yanked as the serrated horns threshed her scales.

Cynder howled and reared towards Goon, her maw agape, teeth intent on Goon's jugular. Goon wrestled with the dragoness, his head back as she snapped at him. Raziela lunged to Cynder's other side, her weapon's blades at the dragoness' ribcage.

A globe of ice hissed forth and struck the ground near Raziela's feet. The feral backpedaled as another volley came at her, the icy explosions closer with each shot. Raziela summoned her Red Sound: a clicking growl before a piercing scream that ripped through the frozen spheres. Spyro rolled out of the way. The ringing in his head intensified.

His scales rose. The air thinned, took on a different cold, a moist one, the scent of it thick with ozone. The heat from battle dissipated. Goon's hold on Cynder's tail slackened. Cynder pulled himself from him, her sight to the south, near the cave. She ambled to Spyro's side, stared alongside him.

Raziela slowly walked back to Goon, her Shattersound held to her chest. The ferals' and dragons' hearts hastened, the beginnings of vertigo adrift in their heads.

A figure shuffled towards them, swathed in filthy rags, his head down. In his hands were two desiccated corpses, their flesh shriveled, heads lifelessly hung. The dead limbs dragged in intervals, counterpointed by the Black Star's footsteps.

He stood several paces away from Spyro and Cynder, his head down. He tossed the bodies at their paws. Spyro and Cynder stepped back, flinched. Spyro asked him, "Why did you kill them?"

The Black Star said nothing. Spyro asked him again. "Why did you kill them?" He menaced the figure. "I know who you are, damn it! Answer me!"

The figure splayed his palm out. Reality shimmered around it, projected forth. The power flung Spyro onto his back. Cynder rushed towards the Black star only to be swatted aside. She tumbled, her jaw streaked in blood.

Goon and Raziela exchanged a glance. Goon said to her, "You first."

Raziela sneered at him. "You afraid?"

"No. I just like living."

She rolled her eyes at him and brandished Shattersound. With swift strides she closed in on the Black Star. Her weapon took on a life of its own, curved and sung through the air. The blades hissed towards the Black Star's torso.

The weapon didn't penetrate. Raziela's brow creased in exertion. She pushed again. The blades couldn't find purchase. The Black Star brushed the weapon aside and snatched Raziela's quills. She lashed out in return, yowled. The deity shoved her to the ground, dragged her. He walked towards Goon.

Goon put his weapon between him and the approaching figure. The feral circled him, sized him up. "So...What's your name?"

The Black Star didn't answer. Goon replied, "Haven't heard that one. So yeah...Think you're strong, huh? Bet you can't..." He pointed to the cave. "Throw her over that."

Raziela snarled, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, you'd survive," Goon said. "Don't worry, I have this under control."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"GOON!"

The Black Star grabbed Goon's horn and wrenched him to the ground. Goon muttered, "Oh. That happened." He said up to the Black Star, "So...Where we goin'?"

The Black Star turned his head towards the cave and ambled towards it with Goon and Raziela in his hands. Spyro and Cynder rose to their fours, pursued the deity. Spyro exhaled, and a globe of fire screamed towards the Black Star and his hostages.

Goon aimed the tips of Double or Nothing at the incoming fireball. "Cheap shot." Spyro's flame struck an invisible dome, became as a liquid, rolled and dimmed onto the grass before it smoldered and died. Goon lowered his weapon, his lip curled in confusion. "Raziela."

Raziela kicked wildly. "What?"

"This ape just saved us from that."

"And?"

"I think that might be bad."

Cynder's form faded, became as pitch as she teleported towards the figure. She obstructed him, her paw laced in tendrils as she reared her arm.

The Black Star tilted his head up. Blinding rays came forth from the cowl, burned the darkness from Cynder. She reeled from him as her body burned and smoked. She renewed her assault only for her own element to rise from the ground: black hands that seized her limbs, tethered her.

Spyro sprinted towards her and wrapped his arm around her neck, freed her from the grasping hands. The two dragons turned to The Black Star, the ferals helpless in his hands.

The deity shoved them against the cave's exterior. Light flowed from his hands and into the stone, where it pooled into irregular curves and wedges. The stone became as a viscous liquid, snared the ferals' arms and legs as it solidified.

Spyro and Cynder ran towards The Black Star, their rising panic addled by anger. Spyro shouted, "Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove?"

The Black Star canted his head at them. He spread his arms: a challenge. Spyro and Cynder united their breaths, channeled a coiled stream of fire and venom, orange and jade, bathed The Black Star in the destructive elements. The air warped with heat, smoked with burning grass and acrid soil.

The Black Star, unscathed, lowered his arms. Spyro's lip curled, his mind addled with incredulity, fear. "What. Are. You." The Black Star didn't respond. Spyro roared, "ANSWER ME!"

The Black Star walked over to the destroyed patch of ground and splayed his hand above it. From the charred patch of land sprung virescent life: long grass accentuated with wild flowers, rooting vines that wound through the ground. He turned his head to Spyro, waited.

Spyro wet his throat. "I'm asking the wrong questions." He eased his roiling mind. With slow, steady words he asked, "What do you want?"

A low wind passed, carried a barely audible growl. The Black Star clenched his fist. "You will know." The greenery beneath him shivered, wilted.

Spyro shook his head down at the dead plant life. "Destruction? Death? What?"

The Black Star turned to the ferals. He addressed Spyro. "I care not for such seams. What you label is the nadir of essence, the ebbing before the crest."

Cynder stepped towards him. "What is it you seek then?"

The deity turned his head towards her, his eyes dim, narrowed. "The nuances between, in all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He turned away from the ferals, his steps languid. "Follow me." Spyro and Cynder hesitated. After a moment they followed, their shoulders bunched, muscles tense. The Black Star extended his arms, and to his sides flowed a stream of blackening grass, dying foliage that rekindled with life, cycled between the two. "What you fight for is the movement of essence. You pull at forces beyond you, the lifetimes of a world a blink within existence."

Spyro understood what he said. "In the context you speak of, yes. We're small, beyond small. But that's not why I fight."

"Of course." The Black Star stopped and clasped his hands together. He swept them out, and with a gesture a long line of iron bark trees shot forth from the ground, their branches lined in shivering, silver leaves. "That is why they all fought."

Spyro's breath caught. "All?"

The Black Star turned towards Spyro. "Little spirit. I have seen many of you burn, as numerous as the night's bounty, and with the breath of time extinguished."

Spyro gnashed his teeth. "I don't fade that easily."

A still moment. The iron bark trees ignited: great burning candles lined in formation. Spyro and Cynder gasped, the glow from the fire iridescent upon their scales. The refracted light barely illuminated the Black Star's features, the contours of his face black with shadow. "You are more than just essence. You are its aberrations, cognizant, your lives dictated by need, actions painted by circumstance. Base. Unpredictable."

He curled his fingers, and the flames behind him died with his clenched fist. "I do not seek your seam. It is too easily cut."

"Then just say it!" Spyro hissed through clenched teeth. "I don't understand! Are you saying you don't want to kill us?"

"Not. Your. Seam." The Black Star's hand cut through the air. The trees dissolved into ash, were carried away by the wind in a cloud of gray. "I want what you want."

Scorn spread across Spyro's face. "To save Avalar?"

"The cost, little spirit. Always a cost. You know that."

"I'm not giving you anything."

The Black Star turned his head to the ferals, his steps ponderous as he neared them. "I don't want anything from you. I want to give you something."

"Me?"

"Both of you." The Black Star beckoned the ferals, and the stone of the cave's exterior released their legs. Their arm restraints protracted, and a convex slab of stone curved from the wall and into their backs, forced them to their knees, bodies bowed and torsos spread.

Spyro and Cynder padded over to the display. Cynder asked the Black Star, "What is this? Why did you bind them?"

A beat of thought. The Black Star said, "They are tokens."

Cynder looked over at Raziela and Goon, the ferals' upper bodies stretched. Their pained countenances belied their fear. The dragoness asked him, "Tokens of what?"

"Your dedication to Avalar."

Spyro scoffed. "Sacrifices? We're not killing for you."

The Black Star shook his head. "I am not who you kill for. I am not Avalar, nor is the crippled world you walk on." He pointed to the side. "Look to the east."

They turned their heads to the east. The plateaus innards erupted with soil, black silt that sprouted vegetation, land that conjoined the patchwork terrain. Below them came a jarring rumble, the growl and moan of tectonic plates.

The Black Star denoted no sign of exertion. He spoke over the rising din. "I can give you the land you knew, undo the damage of the failed destroyer." Hills formed where plateaus once stood. Arid patches of land grew anew with greenery, and the sloping lands bristled with trees, the undulating terrain around them choked in life.

Speechless, Spyro soaked in the surroundings. Gentler memories came to him, the short-lived respite from war a sweet and far siren. He craved that time, didn't want to lose it again. A dull ache formed in his chest, his altruism a millstone. "Why would you do this for us?"

The Black Star lowered his hand and surveyed his work. "This isn't for you." He angled his head to Raziela and Goon. He said to Spyro, "You're familiar with sacrifice. All I ask now is that you consummate the severance. Cut the seams."

Dubiously, Spyro asked him, "Then why bind them?"

"Because they will struggle. Their deaths will be put to use."

Cynder took a step back, uncertain as to what the Black Star alluded to. "What do you mean 'put to use?'"

The Black Star pointed at the ferals. A light wind furled his rags. "Eat them. Alive."