The Legend of Spyro

Shadow Repentance

Chapter 10

Spyro groaned with satisfaction; his stomach had never felt so full. Although the meat was very strange and it seemed to burn with black smoke as it was cooked, no one questioned what it was; they simply ignored it and ate.

The Dragons ate with the chief in a private cave. From the entrance, between two goatish men holding spears, the rose-colored sky began to melt as the sun ebbed closer to the horizon.

Inside the cave, a wall of red and green crystals quietly sparkled. As it turned out, the Atlawa grew the crystals in certain caves such as this one, so there was indeed enough to heal both Spyro and Cynder half a dozen times over.

A fire cracked in the center of the cave, between the Dragons sitting side-by-side and the chief who sat alone. In another cave, far away, there was a fire which the Dragons were urged to stay away from; it burned dragonsbane, a plant which the Atlawa harvested upon the Black Dragon's return. It was poisonous to Dragons if eaten and noxious if inhaled. It had taken all day, but they had burned the last of it.

"I am sorry for our misunderstanding," The chief spoke quietly.

"It's all right Tyrragor," Spyro replied. "You had every right to be afraid."

"The Black Rains and Dark Pools we thought were signs of our destruction—that the Black Dragon had once again taken control of the land."

"No. In fact, we've defeated the cause of most of the evil in this world."

The chief's eyes pulsed. "You stood against Malefor?"

Spyro nodded, "But it wasn't just me," he nodded to his left, "I had Cynder by my side."

"I see. So that is the depth of the bond which you two share." The chief lifted a smoking pipe. "Such a bond is sacred, especially among the Dragons."

Spyro and Cynder bashfully looked at either side, pretending to take interest in something else—the glittering crystals, the fire, outside.

"I must thank you for your action, Black Dragon. Were it not for you, one of the littlest of my tribe would be lost today." He brought the pipe to his lips. "But tell me, what drove you to sacrifice your companion over my failed responsibility? I would not blame you for choosing your companion over one of my own—"

"Don't say such a thing," Cynder snapped, and then retracted apologetically. "I mean…Spyro would have made the same choice."

"That is not the answer," he brought the pipe to his lips once again, "Perhaps it has to something to do with the shackle that was once on your right hind-leg."

Both Dragons exchanged glances, and then examined her leg. Neither had noticed, and it had been hours since their ordeal.

Finally Cynder voiced her reason, but she did not like it at all—it felt selfish. "I had to make up for what I did to your people in the past," she replied, "in order to free myself. So I chose to save the girl."

"You put my people before your own desire. That is the answer I wanted to hear." He brought the pipe to his lips for a third time, and blew the smoke reverently. "It is clear that you are not the Black Dragon."

Cynder shook her head. "No, you're wrong. I am the Black Dragon."

"Even if you were," he closed his eyes and tossed the ash from his pipe on the fire. It flared just slightly. "You have changed. It is time to forget the past and move on. We shall follow your example."

"Thank you, Tyrragor. It means a lot to us for you to forgive her."

The chief stared into the fire for a moment, as if contemplating. He did not blink or change pace in his breathing. He did not move for several moments. Finally he looked up at the Dragons, eyes focused upon them both.

"May I ask a favor of you?"

Both nodded.

"Kane and Roth were the most courageous of our kind. When the Black Rains fell upon our bright lands, they did not hide in shelter like the rest of us. And when the Dark Pools begot those vicious creatures, they were the first to battle them.

"We felt safe after fending them off—a feeling I now know is false after today. However, Kane and Roth were not satisfied. They felt—they knew—that the Specters were also in the forests below our high lands. Those forests are home to our rival tribe, the Arboktu.

"Kane and Roth broke the forbidden laws of our land and ventured down into the forests below. The next morning, Roth came back, carrying Kane over his shoulder—Kane had been murdered, and Roth greatly wounded."

The chief closed his eyes, as if stifling anger.

"But we could not help Roth. He broke our law. So he left the lands, in hopes of finding the Shrine God."

"That's a very tragic story," Cynder spoke, "But what does it have to do with our favor?"

"Arboktu and Atlawa are warring tribes. However, I would not feel right if we did not help them against the Specters that plague the land. And yet, our people are not made to survive in the forests." He allowed a pragmatic pause. "On behalf of the balance of the Land, please heed my request—aide the Arboktu, if it is not already too late."

Both dragons stepped forward, physically rising with their words. "We will." They said in unison.

The chief chuckled—or rather gently bleated—and stood. "There is no rush. Night falls, and it is unwise to walk the forests in darkness. Come, I will lead you to a cave where you may be alone tonight."

Cynder scratched at the ground, and yawned before lying down. The night was cool high up on the plateau—and windy. The breeze howled against the mouth of their cave, which made her feel slightly frightened, but it became soothing over time. A bed of coals was snuggled into the back of the cave, radiating with warmth. She met Spyro's eyes as she stretched and relaxed. Her limbs still trembled.

He gently rested his hand to stop her shaking. "Relax," he spoke soothingly, "I'm here, and you're down one shackle."

"I know," she said timidly. "I just keep seeing it all in my head—your face was so horribly fixed and…the blood was—"

"It stopped hurting when I blacked out," he said casually.

She glared at him and squeezed his hand a little angrily. "Don't ever let those things do that to you again, understand?"

"Yes, dear."

Cynder's mouth fell ajar, and she began to blush. "I mean—How did they manage to get you so badly? You're twice as strong as me and I managed to handle my side, like I promised."

Spyro pursed his lips. "I…guess I was just a little tired, that's all. The dragonsbane was still—"

"Dragonsbane-shmagonsbane, if anything that stuff did you a favor." She stood from her comfortably warm spot, pushing her nose onto his. "You probably got more sleep because of it than you have the past …what is it, six days now?" She pushed her head further, forcing his head down.

He blinked at first, and then felt his shoulders drop, and his knees bend.

She stared him down until his chin was on the floor.

"You're sleeping tonight." She spoke with a tone of ultimatum.

"I…" He sighed, "I'll try."

"Do I need to watch you?"

His head rocked side-to-side.

She stared at him for another moment, and then relaxed, lying back down in her spot. They faced each other, not even a foot of space between their lips.

"This might sound cheesy," he said, "but I'm proud of you."

"What's there to be proud of? I just pulled a 'you', that's all. It's in a day's work of being a hero, right?"

"I don't think…" he trailed, and then finally finished his words, "I would have made the same choice."

Cynder's mouth opened, and quickly closed. "What do you mean—you'd just let that little girl—?"

He looked away for a second, and scratched at the dirt. "I dunno. I mean, I haven't had to make that kind of choice. But if I ever did—" He swallowed, righting his gaze, "I've already lost Ignitus, I can't lose you, too."

He flinched as her hand gently rested upon his. "Trust me Spyro," she said, closing the distance between their faces, "It'll take a lot more than that to separate us." She closed her eyes and discreetly licked his nose.

As he stared at her dazedly, she gently lowered her hand upon his head, covering his eyes. "We've gotta save another tribe tomorrow, and if you don't sleep something bad might happen." She scooted forward just a little, and rested her head next to his, so that their cheeks brushed together.

"Good night Cynder," He said sheepishly.

"Good night, Spyro. And, for Ancestors' sake, if it ever came down to that decision; if you choose me, I'll be very, very angry."

"Understood."

She nuzzled him. "Good."

The coals huffed and puffed as the wind crept into their cave. Spyro watched as the red embers rose and fell, some losing their temper and running away from home. There were sounds of the Atlawa speaking outside, a distant conversation of fragmented syllables and solely consonants.

Cynder shifted a little, he closed his eyes for a moment and pretended to be asleep. He tried his best to keep them shut, but finally could stand it no more and opened them.

She sighed peacefully next to him.

He felt her warm breath tickle down his neck to the base of his left wing. A shiver rolled across his spine. He sighed too, to see if she would respond the same way—she did not. He moved his hand and touched her cheek gently as a feather. Her eye twitched, and she absently grumbled. She was heavily asleep.

He rose as slowly as possible, and in doing so his joints popped and cracked. At last he was upright—how his limbs ached!—and stepped backward as lightly and nimbly as a Manweersmall. As his rear protruded from the cave, the edges of his wings ruffled in the wind. He quickly turned and dashed, stared back at Cynder, and walked away a little guiltily.

He wanted to sleep—needed to sleep. But he could not. Sleep required him to close his eyes—to dream. But every time he did, the images were too much to bear. Charred earth and the smell of sulfur and coal; bubbling rivers of molten rock and the haze of volcanic ash. And as if the hellish scenery was not enough, there, in the rising din, was the terrifying glare of—

Spyro gasped as his eyes flew open. His head snapped upright and he began panting; a tear welled in the back of his eye, and fell down his cheek. He spotted two Atlawa, watching him warily. He ignored them, and exhaled haggardly.

No, he would not sleep.

You want to know who I am.

…Yes.

Such a fool. Think hard, you already know.

No, I don't. Tell me.

I cannot. If you really want to know, free yourself.

Don't worry. I will.

Good. Very good. Quickly though. There is much work to do when you are free. When you are free….