Chapter 11: Redeemed

Molt slowly got up and held his throbbing head with a paw. "Go ahead! Kill me!" he shouted. His face and body was covered in his blood. His snarl revealed his bloody teeth and with blood dripping down the side of his mouth. His face was bruised and scarred, and the scales on his body were torn apart. "That's what you all wanted, wasn't it? For me to just die and go away forever? Fulfill that wish, kill me!" Molt scowled at the two dragons.

"Don't say that... I'm sure the citizens at Warfang would never want such a thing..." Cynder said, remembering what Volteer had said about Molt and feeling a little sorry for him.

"And how the hell would you know that? You don't know the true meaning of pain! Why the hell would you understand anything about me at all? You don't know what kind of suffering my existence has brought me! So shut the hell up!"

A tear escaped from Cynder's eye. "I know how you feel."

Molt's stopped snarling and calmed down a little. "Wh...What?"

"I know how you feel so well that it hurts. Like you said earlier, the Dark Master corrupted me and turned me into his puppet... I'm not proud of the things I've done, and I know how it's like to be misunderstood." she sobbed, thinking about how Sparx used to blame her for everything she had done before, how Chief Prowlus had also blamed her and what the Hermit had said to her.

"Then... Then why? Why do you side with the ones who despised your existence?" Molt asked.

"I wouldn't be who I am right now, if it wasn't for my friend Spyro. He was the only one who understands me, he knows how I feel, he cares for me," Cynder told him.

Molt started to snarl again. "Don't toy with me! Just because one dragon can understand you isn't a good reason to side with the ones who hate you! I am the Bringer of Pain! I was born to be the next dark master! I was created to bring destruction to the world! I'm nothing but a monster in a dragon's shell!" He roared angrily.

"You're not a monster! Neither are you any of the things you just mentioned! You're Molt! A dragon from Warfang!" Cynder yelled back at him.

Molt's eyes widened. That was the first time anyone had ever acknowledged him for who he really was, and had not called him 'monster' or 'that thing'. "But they... they're all laughing... at the cost of my misery! I'll turn those laughs into screams and wails for mercy!"

"Isn't just one person who loves and cares for you more than enough? Isn't one person who truly understands you and wants to be your friend good enough? What more could you want?" Cynder asked. "Revenge won't give you anything. If you kill everyone in Warfang, is it going to make you feel happy? Even if it does, what'll it do for you other than to make you even more lonely?"

Tears welled up in Molt's eyes. His eyes started to change. His sclera turned from red to white and his irises returned to their original color which was a bright crimson. His pupil turned to a natural black. His eyes were no longer as demonic as they were before, although his irises were red. His body stopped emitting black smoke, and revealed a few purple stripes and marks on his dark gray scales. He also started to shrink a bit, and his horns and spikes became shorter. He had three horns on each side of his head, one of them pointing upwards and two others pointing down. Each of the horns had purple markings at their tips. He looked almost the same age as Spyro and Cynder, maybe a bit older. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Cynder, ex-Terror Of The Skies and co-savior of this world." she smiled, noticing the change in Molt's emotions. The dark side of her body also started to fade away, her scales returning to their original obsidian color.

"Cynder... I think I will believe you..." Molt said as he used the last of his mana to heal his wounds with a strange red light on his paws. "But can I know, who is this purple dragon next to you?"

"He's none other than Spyro. The one who freed me from the Dark Master and cared for me."

"Spyro..." Molt said, looking at Spyro with respect in his eyes. "May I... be your friend as well? I... I'll try to be a good friend..."

Cynder was shocked at how easily influenced Molt was, but she knew how it felt like to be understood by nobody and looked down on. She knew how desperate Molt was for a friend and could more or less understand how he felt.

Spyro had remained silent throughout the conversation. He was busy listening to what Cynder had to say to Molt. He personally didn't have a very dark past, and had not truly experienced the hell of solitude before. Cynder nudged him, jolting him out of his thoughts. "What do you think, Spyro?" she asked. "Can he join us?"

Sparx quickly came out of his hiding place. "Wait, wait, wait. We're not recruiting another evil psychopath, right?" Spyro ignored his comment. "You can come with us back to Warfang, Molt. Maybe we can find a way to help you. I know that you were born with dark magic and were shunned because of that. Maybe there's a way we can make others ignore the fact that you have dark magic inside you and acknowledge you for who you truly are."

"Warfang? But what if they chase me out?" he asked.

"We'll vouch for you. Don't worry," Spyro assured him.

"Wait, how do we know we can trust you? A few minutes ago, you were trying to kill everyone in the world, and now you're not?" Sparx questioned Molt.

"Killing everyone in the world won't do anything except to make me even lonelier." Molt sighed. "I didn't think I would ever tell you this, but I was sort of... being controlled."

"Well, the Dark Master's gone, so you better have a good explanation." Sparx folded his arms.

"I'll explain. As you might already know, I was born with dark magic inside of me. Dark magic is more or less the same as mana, and can be used as an energy source for elemental attacks. But dark magic has one huge difference from mana. It has its own will, which it combines with power, to become stronger than regular magic. So for example, if someone tries to use dark magic without the proper training, they would most likely be controlled by its will, which corrupts them with an undying thirst for blood and a feeling of hatred towards everything they see. As for me, one half of my soul is used to control that will. On the day that I left Warfang, I lost control over the dark magic's will and was consumed by it. Although I was aware of what I was doing ever since, I had no control over my actions. If you haven't noticed yet, my eyes were a different color when I was corrupted."

Sparx gave him a suspicious look. Molt's explanation seemed to make sense to him. "Alright, Molt. You've bought yourself some time. For now."

"Oh, wait! Before we leave, let me patch up your wounds. It's the least I could do." Molt walked towards the exit of the cavern and went back through the tunnel that Spyro and Cynder had gone through to find him. He found a small deposit of green crystals and shattered them.

Spyro and Cynder shot him confused looks. "With green crystals?" they asked at the same time.

"I'll show you, but try not to freak out." The same bright red light that he had used to heal himself earlier on appeared in Molt's paws. "Alright, this might hurt a little, but try to stay still." He put his paws on Spyro and Cynder's shoulders and they started to glow bright red as well. Their wounds and cuts started closing themselves and their bruises faded away. Molt's paws had healed them as if they were red spirit gems.

"That was amazing!" Spyro said, impressed at Molt's ability.

"It's part of my special powers," Molt explained.

"So, shall we head back to the city?" Cynder asked.

"Sure," Spyro and Molt both replied.

As Spyro, Cynder, Molt and Sparx headed back to the exit of Warfang ruins, Molt was deep in thought about what had happened to him for the past few years he had spent inside the ruins. It must've been the will of the dark magic... but even dark magic isn't strong enough to control me for that long... Or could it be... no... can't be... he was defeated long ago... Molt was staring blankly into space as the four of them walked out the tunnels back into the ancient city that was buried in the ground.

Noticing that Molt was looking a little dreamy, Spyro nudged him softly to get his attention. "Something wrong?" he asked. "No... I was just thinking about something," Molt replied. His brain froze for a second once he realized what Spyro had asked him. This was the first time someone had ever asked him if something was wrong and offered help to him. A warm smile crept onto his face. So this is what it's like to have a friend...

A.N. One question. Did this make you feel the slightest bit emotional? Tell me how garbage I was in the reviews :D

Whoops, there weren't any reviews for the last chapter, which isn't a big surprise, because nobody really reads this garbage I call a story anyway.