Chapter 14. Preparations.
By: Dardarax
Disclaimer: I Dardarax, do not own Spyro, Cynder, the Temple or any other place, or character belonging to the Spyro franchise. Several of my characters of my own creation however, are featured in this chapter. Their names will be listed at the bottom. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go (insert verb here) a cake with my (insert object/person here) and (insert verb here) a glass of chocolate milk. Have fun with that. :P
It was late morning at the Temple, and the skies were clear of clouds. Flocks of birds flew overhead, returning from their winter hibernation. In the Temple, crowds of students flocked towards the kitchens for their breakfast before class. Among them, a red and a purple dragon wove through the crowd, carried along by the tide of bodies.
"Really? Why?" Igneous asked dumbfounded as he and Savron walked down the corridor towards the student kitchen.
Savron grinned excitedly. "I have been doing so well with my studying that mom and dad have decided to let me off the hook!"
Igneous looked amused at his friend, who was all but bouncing up and down in joy. "Well it's about time. I thought you would never get out of that grounding. See, patience does pay off."
The two turned into the kitchen and made a beeline for the buffet table. Lyrith stood just ahead of them, collecting his meal. Savron tapped him on the shoulder and Lyr turned his head. The purple grinned and nodded towards their usual spot. Lyr smiled and nodded his thanks. The three gathered up their breakfast and headed off towards the table, skipping past the bustling crowds. They took their seats, and found Tirren and Sleet already seated there.
"Hey gorgeous." Savron said, winking at Tirren. "Guess who just got freed from the dungeon of boredom?" Tirren groaned.
"Oh great. They let loose the purple blunder back onto the school."
Savron laughed, and Igneous and Sleet joined in. Lyrith watched the conversation with interest.
Tirren sighed but smiled at the purple dragon's reaction to her jibe. "So what are you going to do with your free time now, Sav?"
"Well, during the little spare time I could manage between classes and studying, I have done a little research." Savron tapped the side of his muzzle with a claw and winked.
"Really?" Tirren scoffed. "The notorious slacker, researching? Are you really Savron?"
Savron rolled his eyes but nodded. "Did you know that this Temple was built over the ruins of the old one?" He asked. Everyone nodded. "Well, some of the old Dragon Temple is still intact, buried underground."
Igneous, Tirren and Sleet all immediately understood what Savron was getting at, but Lyrith looked at the purple, puzzled.
"But Sav!" Sleet exclaimed. "All of the entrances have been blocked off! There's no way inside. And even if there were, it might be dangerous."
"And that's the point." Savron grinned mischievously. "Imagine all of the treasure we could find down there. Imagine how grateful the Guardians would be if we recovered some of their old relics for them? And yes, there may be some danger, but that's most of the fun."
"Okay, so say we agree." Tirren sighed, putting down the turkey leg she had been gnawing on. "How do you plan on getting down there?"
"Like I said, I've been doing some research." Savron snickered. "There is a way. Do you remember those cave tunnels in the mountain side below the Temple walls?"
Tirren nodded.
"Well, one of those was an escape tunnel that led from the old Temple's lower regions. I did some poking around and it is still open! And since we have tomorrow off, I figured…"
"If we're going I don't want it to end like the last misadventure you went on." Tirren cut in, picking up a lamb chop. "We bring supplies, precautions; you will tell your parents that you're going."
"Fine!" Savron exclaimed, throwing his paws up into the air. "I will tell them."
With Savron's declaration, the group immediately started planning. Lyrith, who still didn't really know what was going on, just watched.
"Some torches, chalk to mark our way." Igneous suggested.
"Some life and magic crystals, we might need those." Tirren added.
"More dragons should come along too. Maybe Zindy or Typhous will want to join in." Igneous grinned, excitement filling his voice.
"Hey, Lyrith buddy, want to come along?" Savron asked the white who was digging into his meal with gusto. Lyr paused to consider the request.
"No, I can't. I have to start up my work program with Deran at the forges tomorrow. I can't miss it."
"Work program?" Savron looked at Lyr questioningly. "You mean like a job?"
Lyrith nodded returning to his meal. Savron stared at Lyrith in amazed curiosity.
"Why do you need a job? Aren't your parents sending you money?"
Lyrith clenched his jaw in agitation at the remark, but managed to bite back a stinging remark about rich folk and their money.
"Sav!" Tirren scolded, glaring at the purple dragon. "It is none of your business why he needs a job. Not everyone gets money from their parents, or even have rich families. So back off!" The emerald green dragoness turned to look at Lyrith, huffing. "It's alright, you don't have to answer anything dopey over there asks."
Lyrith let his anger fade away and returned to eating, not answering Savron's question. The purple shrugged and went back to eating. After another few minutes Lyrith finished up on his meal and started on his bowl of jam. Savron looked up with interest as Lyrith started scooping up the bright red substance by the pawful and eating it.
"Hey, uh, Lyrith… Can you really taste jam?"
"Yes." Lyrith grunted. He paused for a moment and then passed the bowl over to Savron. Savron looked at the contents of the bowl with dubious interest, and then cautiously scooped some up and tasted it.
"Hey this isn't half bad!" Savron cried out in delight. He scooped up some more and tried again. Igneous and Sleet looked at each other in shock, while Tirren just stared as Savron scooped up some more jam onto his plate and started experimenting. Lyrith took the bowl back as surprised as the others.
"Well this is a strange turn of events." He thought as Savron sampled jam and pork together. "One of my own kind can't taste sweet flavours, but a purple can… odd."
Igneous looked between the bowl of jam and Savron and then back again.
"Hey can I try that?" Igneous asked. With a nod from Lyrith, the red dragon dipped his claws into the jam and tasted the red substance. His face screwed up in disgust, and he pushed the bowl back to Lyrith and washed his mouth out with a gulp of milk.
Lyrith offered the bowl to Tirren and Sleet, who both declined the offer. Lyr shrugged, and with an amused smirk on his face, finished eating. The other dragons watching Savron devour his newly discovered meal with disgust. Finally the bell rang, and leaving their plates behind, set off to class.
"Our quarrel with the gryphons was started nearly two thousand years ago, when a young dragon butchered an important family on gryphon soil in cold blood for a couple of magic crystals." Cynder spoke, her voice strong and commanding, forcing everyone's attention to her.
"At that time our king was weak hearted and greedy, and despite continual demands for the murderer, who had fled onto dragon soil, to be brought to justice, the king was reluctant to waste resources in finding him. The gryphons, outraged at the insult, began systematically attacking small settlements on our soil, declaring that they would continue to do so until the criminal was dead or brought before them. The king, now motivated by anger rather than common sense, started retaliating by attacking gryphon settlements back for each on of ours lost, it didn't take long for a full fledged war to break out..."
Cynder paced slowly around her class room. It was large but with the many maps, tables, books and students crammed inside, it was far from spacious. Huge windows were open on the left side of where the students sat.
"Fed up with being butchered for an unjust cause after ten years of fighting, our people revolted, overthrowing the weak and petty king..."
Most of the dragons tried vainly to fend off sleep. Using a multitude of tasks to occupy the time. Some played with their writing utensils, while others looked out the windows hoping to see something interesting. they all knew that if they were caught dozing off, they would recieve the full fury of the black dragoness, well known as the Terror of the History Class.
"The new king quickly had the criminal who had started it all, caputured, and handed him over to the gryphons. He then begged for the war to come to an end. The gryphons accepted, but only after making several more demands which the new king readily agreed to. But even with the war over, the scars were still fresh in the minds of the people. And small hostilities continued to ensue. And the conflict began again when a..."
Sleet yawned, his quill scratching over his paper, occasionally dipping into his ink pot, recording all of the most important points of the bloody feud between dragons and the gryphons. While he worked, taking notes, but not really paying attention, Sleet delved into his own issue: He was failing.
"I can't fail." Sleet thought despondently as he half listened to Cynder's lecture. "If I do I might never get to see Savron or the others ever again. And dad will be so disappointed in me. I need to find somebody to help me pass, someone who can teach me how to fight properly… But who?"
The scrawny dragon sighed. It was impossible. He had only two weeks to train for the exam and even if he found somebody, how would they be able to teach him enough to pass in such a short time?
Sleet looked down at his paper and started in surprise. He had stopped writing notes from Cynder's lecture, and had written repetitively across his page Savron's words from the day before:
"After all, he beat Thunder without magic, just something to think about."
Sleet stared at the words for a time, and then looked up at Lyrith, who was sitting down at the front of the classroom, diligently writing every word Cynder spoke.
"Would he teach me? Could he even teach me? Spyro couldn't, is he able to?"
Sleet suddenly realised that Cynder had ceased speaking, and that everyone was packing their supplies away. He tore his eyes from Lyrith and a second later the bell rang.
Sleet quickly gathered up all of his supplies and stood up, shoving them into a satchel and found that Lyrith had already left the room. Sudden panic rose unbidden to him, causing him to snatch up his bag and race out of the classroom. He came to a stop outside of the class, and looked furtively around. He caught sight of a white figure walking down the hall to his left; the crowd of students bustling about quickly cut him off from view.
Sleet took off after the retreating Albino, burrowing through the packed crowd like a mole. Sleet caught sight of Lyr breaking away from the body of students and head down a side passage. Sleet struggled free from the crowd and hurried after the white.
He turned several corners, following brief glimpses of Lyr's white scales as the ice drake ran to catch up though the torch lit halls. Lyrith turned right, into the great hall and desperately, Sleet charged after him, turning the corner only to slam right into Lyrith, who sat waiting in the middle of the hall. Sleet bounced backwards, staggering from the impact, Lyrith did not even budge from his position.
"Why are you following me?" Lyr snarled at Sleet.
"I…" Sleet began, but stutter to a halt at the sight of Lyr's fearsome grimace.
"Well?" Lyrith demanded, his expression growing impatient.
Sleet struggled to respond. After a moment of silence, Lyrith huffed and turned away, starting to walk away. Sleet's panic returned without warning.
"Could you teach me how to fight?" He managed to squeak, the panic overwhelming his nervousness. Lyrith stopped and looked back at Sleet shocked.
"Teach you… To fight?" He asked, incredulously. Having already blurted out his request, Sleet stammered on.
"Well… you see I am failing basic combat class. And if I fail the exam coming up, I will be removed from the Temple. And… and since you're such a great fighter, I… I thought maybe you could help me… learn?"
Lyrith stared at Sleet in astonishment. This was the last thing he had expected when he had confronted the small ice dragon. He was not sure how to respond to such a request. Never before had anyone asked him for anything.
Sleet saw him hesitate, and thinking he might be about to refuse, pleaded, desperation in his voice.
"Please! I really need your help!"
Lyr could see the fear and horror in the young dragon's expression as he pleaded, and Lyr finally caved. He nodded in agreement. Sleet slumped in relief.
"After classes end, meet me in the training ground. We will start immediately." Then without waiting for a response, Lyrith turned and strode off, vanishing into the crowded great hall. Sleet watched him go, a feeling of joy sweeping over him.
"Yes!" he thought, turning back around and striding away, heading towards his next class. "He said yes! Maybe I will be able to improve and pass my exam! After all, if anyone can teach me to how to fight, it is the colourless dragon that defeated a dual element!"
"He's right in here." Spyro murmured as he opened the door to the training ground. The combat classroom was dimly lit, with only a few torches still lit. Standing off to the side of the combat ring, Lyr sat, fiddling with the controls of the new animation mechanism.
"You are welcome to come and train here as often as you like." Spyro affirmed, nodding towards the training ring. "Just be careful with the new machine, we don't want to have to replace it again."
Sleet nodded in understanding, and then padded over towards Lyrith. Spyro closed the door, leaving the two alone.
"Uh, hi." Sleet called over to Lyr. The white dragon left the machine and faced Sleet. He eyed the scrawny drake up and down, and then turned back to the machine, flipping some switches.
"Hi." He grunted.
"So, uh… What are we going to do first?" Sleet asked, stopping beside Lyrith to watch him play with the controls.
"Before I help you with anything, I need to know how…"
"Don't pull that lever!" Sleet warned. Lyrith pulled his paw back sharply, looked at Sleet sceptically, and then started again, not pulling the lever.
"I need to know how well you can fight."
"So that's why you are working with the machine? What will I be fighting?"
"Well, I have either set the machine for two dummies, or twenty. I'm not entirely sure which." Lyr said smoothly, hiding an amused grin.
Sleet gulped.
"Well, go on, get into the ring. I won't learn anything if you just stand there."
Cautiously Sleet entered the ring, and stood waiting for Lyr to start the test.
"Don't worry." Lyr called over to Sleet, no longer able to hide his sly smile. "If worse comes to worse I can always stop the dummies with this lever… At least I think it is this lever…"
"Oh ancestors what have I gotten myself into?" Sleet asked himself, not seeing the joking smirk on Lyrith's muzzle. Lyrith pulled down the switch and the fight began.
Two straw dummies rose up before Sleet, clubs at the ready. After a second's pause, they struck, clubs swinging in wide, clumsy arcs. The ice dragon threw himself out of the way, landing hard on the dirt ground.
He barely managed to get out of the way of another swinging blow from the second dummy. The two straw creatures advanced slowly towards the scrambling ice drake. Sleet made a desperate strike with his tail hoping to trip the dummy, but aimed too high and his tail wrapped around the mannequin's upper leg, making Sleet's attempt useless. The dummy casually hit Sleet across the ribs, sending him sprawling. The first dummy raised its club to strike. Panicking, Sleet sent a blast of liquid ice at the mannequin, freezing it in place.
The statue of ice and straw teetered, off balance, and toppled on top of Sleet, pinning him in place. Sleet struggled to escape the self-imposed prison as the second dummy rained blows down on the frozen form of its comrade, trying to break through. The blows jarred Sleet to the bone, and felt another surge of panic rising as he squirmed beneath the dummycicle. As the dummy began to splinter beneath the onslaught, Sleet desperately put his forepaws onto the frozen sculpture and sent a surge of power through it. It exploded upwards in a spray of ice shards, tearing through the last dummy like a razor through paper.
Lyrith took a step back in sudden shock at the massive display of power. He watched as the remains of the last mannequin were reduced to saw dust from the explosion.
"He has the power, and intelligence to be the greatest student in the Temple, yet he can barely even fight off two dummies." Lyrith thought, examining the small drake who lay panting on the floor. "The only thing I can do for him at this point is to help him learn it himself. It is only his confidence that is holding him back."
"Okay, I'm done the test. What now?" Sleet asked, getting up back onto his paws. Lyrith pondered for a moment on the best way to train the young dragon, tapping a claw to his chin.
"I can definitely see where you need improvement. Your combat style, if lack of one can be considered a style, needs work. Your only truly strong points seem to be your magic, but even that needs some work."
Sleet sagged as he heard the news. Lyrith continued on, ignoring Sleet's depressed look.
"We have two weeks to train you, with classes, and studying aside you will have to train every day if you want to get to the point where you will show real improvement in your fighting style."
Sleet nodded sombrely, and got up. He had hoped it would be easy, but had not really expected it.
"Come here every day after classes, I will train you for a few hours. It will be hard, but hopefully you will be able to get a good mark at the end of the exam."
"Okay." Sleet sighed, standing up. "So where do we start?"
"First, your dodging technique. You leave too many openings when you move. And since you are clearly magic-based in style, it is best to reinforce that by teaching you how to avoid close quarters attacks so you don't get beaten to a pulp."
"And how will we do that?" Sleet asked the white dragon, who turned back to the control panel.
"The best way? To have you fight a bunch of dummies for a few hours each day. The easiest way? Chuck rocks at you and have you evade them."
"I think I like the easy way more." Sleet interjected.
"You won't be thinking that when you fail the exam." Lyrith snorted, twisting some controls. "So for now, you will face three dummies in the ring. You are not allowed to attack back. You must dodge until the time is up."
"How long will that be?" Sleet swallowed hard, shaking.
"About five minutes or so." Lyrith grunted, twisting the final lever and turning back to look at Sleet. Three dummies rose up from the ground, the shredded wood and straw coming back together to form the three figures.
The next five minutes were hell for Sleet as he desperately evaded the barrage of attacks. Most of his dodges were ineffective as he was hit by one or more of the mannequin's attacks regardless of his attempts. Throwing himself to the floor or scrambling away to get out of the club's way. Unable to strike back he had no respite from the dummies as the sand fell in the hourglass beside Lyrith.
Finally to the small dragon's relief, the sand ran out and Lyr pulled the lever to stop the dummies, which stopped in their tracks. Sleet staggered out of the training ring and gulped down some water from the nearby trough.
Sleet looked back after a long drink to see Lyrith scratching notes into a notepad with his quill.
"What's that?" He panted, approaching the Albino to take a look.
"I'm noting how many times you were hit, for reference." Lyr responded flatly. Sleet balked at the notepad. The tally number was over three dozen.
"Now, get back in there. You won't improve by standing around."
Sleet sighed and returned to the training ring.
"Um, aren't you going to give me any advice on how to improve?" Sleet suggested wryly of Lyr as he waited for the next round to begin.
"Well, watch your opponent's movements. Try and see what they are going to do next by how they move. And try to avoid doing drastic dodges that throw you off balance and leave you open for attack."
"Wait, what?" Sleet demanded, confused. "How do I…"
But Lyrith had already pulled the switch.
It was evening in the skies of the Temple as Spyro beat his way through the strong winds towards shelter. Around his neck a large satchel hung, overburdened by its contents.
The purple dragon ground his fangs as a powerful gust threatened to blow him off course. He clutched the bag with a front paw tightly, hoping to keep it from swinging out of control in the strong winds. He landed awkwardly on the landing platform high above the ground and stumbled inside. He fumbled with the satchel for a moment before entering the Temple halls.
Spyro made his way quickly through the shadowy corridors, despite the flickering torches the halls were cold, chilled by the howling winds. Spyro shivered, he could not wait to get back to his warm room.
Several more turns brought him to his destination, much to his relief. He slipped inside. Warmth from the nearby furnace greeted him as he entered. Sighing in pleasure he shut the door behind him with a flick of his tail.
The bed that hung like a chandelier from the top of the room beckoned to him invitingly, but he ignored it. Loping down a short flight of stairs to the study. He wandered a while around the chaotic mess of books and paper that were piled messily over tables and across the floor, examining the area with a keen eye. Finally he stopped at a small corner, where an alcove was set with a pedestal.
Nodding in satisfaction, Spyro opened up his satchel and produced a large sculpture shaped like the bust of a dragon. It was coloured in every shade of the rainbow, and its scales were each a tiny figure of a dragon, all flying together to form the shape of the dragon's head and shoulders. Nine regal ivory horns arched back out of its head, and it stared out with dark opal eyes that shone even in the dim light.
Spyro spent several second adjusting the sculpture so that it gazed out imperiously at the study.
"I still say it clashes with half of our furniture." A musical voice commented dryly from behind the purple dragon. Spyro turned with a grin to face Cynder, who eyed the bust with distain.
"But it goes well with the other half, right?" Spyro chuckled, kissing Cynder on the snout.
She snorted. "Barely."
Spyro laughed and they both took off and ascended to a large platform a floor above. On the platform a modest sized table was set with several platters of food, and a pitcher of cream. They took a seat at the table opposite one another, resting their haunches on the soft cushions placed as seats around it. Several candles lit up the meal, adding a dusky glow to the shadowy room.
"You're late." Cynder murmured, eyeing Spyro who placed his satchel down on the floor.
"I was just picking up a few things." Spyro grinned, answering her unspoken question. He poured them both a bowl of cream from the pitcher.
"Yes, I am sure that is exactly what you were doing while you ogled that statue over there." Cynder remarked, chilly. Spyro laughed weakly and Cynder joined in, then they fell into an awkward silence.
"Do you want to…?" Cynder began, breaking the silence. Spyro nodded solemnly. He raised his head and intoned in a quiet voice.
"Exactly twenty three years to this day we cast down the Dark Master. Exactly twenty three years to this day we lost a beloved friend. For a moment, let us remember those lost in the struggle to save this world, and give them thanks…"
Spyro trailed off, and both he and Cynder closed their eyes and lowered their heads in respect. Spyro felt an ache behind his eyes as he remembered Ignitus, his former mentor and close friend. He held on to that feeling of sadness for a moment, and then let it go.
Cynder raised her head and broke the silence.
"But let us now move forward. It is a time of tranquility and love, let us remember past joys. Precisely twenty years from this day, we joined as mates. Let us celebrate our union with this feast."
The each took a bowl of cream and leaned forward, pressing the wooden bowls to each other's muzzles. They drank deeply from the bowls, as they held it to each other, as a sign of trust and support.
They lowered the bowl and grinned, having completed their yearly ritual. Spyro licked a smudge of cream from his muzzle and smirked.
"And now, for the presents!"
Cynder smiled at her mate's playful tone and produced a wrapped package from beside the table. She passed it to him, and started eating from her plate of food while she watched Spyro open his gift. He took the gift and shook it gently, cocking his head to listen at its contents. Then he sliced the wrapping open with a claw and beheld what was inside.
Within the package a carved wooden bottle was held. It was made out of the finest dark hard wood, and was embossed with gold lining. Spyro grinned widely.
"This is beautiful! It will be perfect for storing the fruit brandy I've been fermenting!"
"I still don't know how you can drink that stuff." Cynder grumbled through her meal as she chewed.
"I have always been able to eat fruit." Spyro replied, uncorking the bottle and looking inside. "It may have something to do with being raised by dragonflies. After all, it's not like they could hunt a deer for me, right?" He placed the bottle down on the table and picked his satchel.
Cynder sat up straighter, as he opened the bag and looked up at her. She waited expectantly as he reached into the bag and pulled out her present.
It was a gold choker, engraved with symbols. A massive emerald was set into the center of the neckpiece and on the back, Cynder's name was engraved. She gasped as he passed it to her.
"You… You bought me it anyways. Even though you won the bet." She held the choker, overcome at the gift given.
Spyro walked around the table and unclasped the choker she already wore around her neck. He then took the gold one from her, and slipped it around her neck. Cynder got up and examined her reflection in a nearby mirror. The gold gleamed brightly against her black scales, and the emerald matched her eyes flawlessly.
"Well now I feel selfish." Cynder declared, turning back to face Spyro. "I wouldn't let you get your statue, and you got me this anyway. Even my gift is only a fraction of what this is worth."
Spyro walked over to her, a loving smile creasing his mischievous eyes. "Well, maybe you could make it up to me, if you feel so badly?" He whispered suggestively, nuzzling her face with his own.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea." She purred.
"Mom! Dad!" Savron called, entering the room. "I just wanted to tell you that tomorrow I…"
He stopped as he watched Cynder kiss Spyro deeply, then turn and lead him away from their feast. She trailed her tail along his side and across his chin as they padded to the side of the platform. They took off, ascending rapidly to the bed high above. They landed, and distantly Savron could see their shapes coil together behind the curtains.
Savron turned away with a start, eyes wild and face burning. He sped out of the room at a fast trot, leaving the disturbing scene of his mother and father behind. Igneous, who had waited outside the room while Savron went in to tell them about the adventure, followed as his purple friend as he stormed down the halls, away from the room. They both carried large burlap sacks full of supplies.
"Uh, Sav? Where are you going? Shouldn't you tell your parents…?"
"Leave it!" Savron hissed. Igneous dropped the subject. They moved through the twisting halls towards their meeting place. They entered a small storage room and found Tirren already waiting for them.
"About time, I was starting to think you would never show up." The green dragoness grumbled.
"Did you get what I asked for?" Savron asked, having finally calmed down from his disturbed state. He and Igneous placed the sacks they had been carrying beside Tirren's.
"Yep, three coils of rope. A box of chalk, some torches and a couple of sacks."
"I've got some rations, paper and quills to draw out a map. I also borrowed some scrap armour for protection." Igneous declared, motioning to the sacks that lay near Tirren's.
"Good." Savron nodded to each of them. "I got some magic and life crystals that I bought from the crystals gardens. I didn't take any without permission this time."
"Good for you Sav!" Tirren smiled, mockingly. Savron sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I also brought a water clock, to help us tell the time while exploring."
"I'm glad we're doing it this way." Tirren grunted, arranging the bags of equipment into a neat pile. "I don't want to get in trouble for another crazy stunt like your last one. You did tell your parents we're going, right?"
"Um, yeah… sure." Savron lied, and Tirren glared at him suspiciously. A knock at the door prevented the emerald green dragoness from questioning the purple further, and Savron hastily opened the door. Sleet stood behind the door, his sky blue scales were bruised in a number of places, and he wobbled a bit as he stood. Savron eyed the dragon's wounds with concern as he stepped back to allow the young drake entry.
"Are you okay, Sleet?" Tirren murmured, stepping up to Sleet to examine his injuries.
"Yeah, but Lyrith is a really harsh teacher." Sleet complained, putting a paw on a particularly nasty bruise on his shoulder.
"What have you two been doing?" Igneous asked, with worry.
"He made me fight against several dummies nonstop. He wouldn't let me even attack back. He said that it's to improve my dodging skills."
"Well… you do need improvement there Sleet. You aren't all that great at evasion." Savron pointed out. He slipped a small life crystal from his pack and gave it to Sleet. The scrawny ice drake took it with relief and popped it into his mouth. The bruises faded away and he stretched, relieved.
"Dodging is one of the most important skills you can learn." Tirren agreed, and Sleet nodded.
"But does that mean he has to make me go up against three dummies for so long? I hurt all over!"
"Well, Terrador did always say that the fastest way to learn is against overwhelming odds, or dangerous situations." Igneous remarked. "And he is always saying things like: No pain, no gain."
"Alright, I get it." Sleet groaned, defeated. "But I didn't expect it to be this hard."
"There is no easy way to learn how to fight." Igneous said, hoping to sooth his friend. "He must be teaching you the way he learned, and look at him! He is an incredible fighter!"
"But think of his scars!" Sleet argued, feeling frustration welling up in him. "I bet the reason he has so many is because of his teacher! I don't want to end up like that!"
Silence fell for a moment as the three thought back on the white, and his horribly scarred body.
"Well you asked him Sleet." Savron finally said, breaking the silence. "If you want to pass, you may have to accept his teachings. You don't really have much choice."
"I know." Sleet sighed, sitting down, head hanging. They looked at the defeated drake with pity, and Savron decided to change the subject.
"So, are you coming Sleet? Typhous and Zindy are coming along."
"No. Lyrith says that if I'm going to pass, I have to train every day. I won't be able to go."
"Bummer." Savron grumbled, disappointed. "It has been a long time since everyone has gone on an adventure together. But I would rather you pass and stay here for another adventure later, than come with us and fail. So I support your decision."
Sleet nodded in thanks, and in disappointment. Savron cleared his throat and turned back to Tirren and Igneous.
"Okay, so tomorrow after breakfast we will all go to the caves and start exploring. We will be gone until two hours after classes normally end. Tell Ty and Zindy. They wouldn't want to miss this trip."
The halls of the Temple were quiet, with only the sound of the howling wind disturbing the calm. Lyrith wandered the halls, heading out for his night walk. His mind dwelled on the training session he had just completed with Sleet not long ago, and was busy contemplating the events of that day.
He had pushed Sleet hard, hoping to give him as much combat experience as possible in such a short period of time. He had learned fast, and was already showing signs of learning to read enemy movements, even if he wasn't aware of it. The main problem Lyr felt he faced was pushing the young dragon too hard.
"I don't want to drive him away. I've only just made friends and I don't want to lose one because I was too harsh." Lyr thought worriedly, padding down the hall. He had seen the exasperated look on Sleet's face, and had realised immediately that it was directed at him. "But I can't go easy on him either. He needs to learn fast in order to pass the exam. He fails that and I will lose him no matter how hard I tried to keep his friendship. How will I do this?"
Lyr sighed, and turned into the great hall. "Why do these situations always have to be so hard?"
He continued walking, letting the marvellous scenery banish his musing. The murals on the walls of the great hall were a breathtaking sight. Every time he passed through the great hall he always took the time to admire the artwork. He walked along the walls of the great hall, looking up and down the tiles of the wall. The scenes depicted were of kingdoms, rising and falling, wars, alliances, betrayals. The entire recorded history of the dragon race. Some parts were blank or uneventful, having no records from that time, but others were so detailed that it felt like you could walk right into the world created.
"It's like I am traveling though time." Lyr thought, amused at the concept. Finally, he reached a time he recognised. A scene he had heard over and over again in stories and poems.
A huge purple dragon, of a reddish hue stood with a crystal of darkness in one upraised paw, and a ball of purple flame in the other. A crown of horns crested his head, and his tail was bladed like an axe. Two young dragons stood in front of him, crouched in a battle stance and chained together by the neck with a green chain of magic. One was a light purple in colour, while the other was black. In the background a wall of fire stretched across the land, and a giant figure of rock and magma was climbing an erupting volcano. The beast was almost as large as the mountain it scaled.
"Wow." Lyrith gasped, awed at the sight. "So this is the battle between Malefor, Spyro and Cynder when they were trying to save the world. I didn't expect Malefor to be so… so big. He is as frightening as I always imagined him."
"Would you get out of here, Snowy, you're ruining the view with your hideous white hide!" A voice sneered from the other side of the great hall. Lyrith turned around, his fangs barred in a frustrated snarl. Wintra two more of Torch's other cronies stalked across the hall, towards him. Wintra had a disgusted grimace on her face, yet even that failed to ruin her flawless appearance. She stopped in front of Lyrith. The other two, a brawny ice dragon, and a stick thin fire dragoness stood behind her, their condescending sneers further aggravating the white.
"What do you want, Icicle?" Lyrith sighed, letting his anger fade. He turned back to the mural and started walking along it, paying no mind to the three bullies behind him. Wintra growled at Lyr's indifference to their presence and followed after him. She was just a little smaller than he was, and she quickly over took the Albino with a fast trot. She turned and stopped in front of him barring his way. Her two grunts took their place beside her a second later.
"Don't you ignore me, Milky." The ice dragoness declared, setting herself firmly, as if she expected Lyrith to try and force her out of the way. "Nobody ignores me."
Lyrith yawned and blinked several times as if tired. The then stuck a claw in his ear frill and wriggled it around.
"Sorry, did you say something?" He asked bored. Wintra seethed at the remark, and Lyrith felt a surge of satisfaction at her response.
"What I said, you pale iguana," Wintra hissed, glaring at Lyrith, "is that I am surprised you are still standing here, when I hear you've got yourself a date with Sleet."
"Wait, what?" Lyr asked, startled.
"Yes," Wintra hissed, smirking at his shocked expression. "I hear you and that small fry are going out, Miss Lyrith. I don't know what he sees in you. You must be the ugliest chick in the Temple."
Lyrith's red eyes narrowed as she spoke, and her expression became more and more smug as she talked.
"You have the figure, but those scars really are a turn off. And those eyes, blah! Not to mention your face is too masculine! Why I wouldn't be surprise if you were a guy, if I hadn't already seen your massive cun…"
"Not like you got anything on me, girl." Lyrith suddenly cut in, his normally deep voice suddenly much higher in pitch and more effeminate. He flipped his head in a very girly gesture of superiority and glared at the stunned dragons.
"That sash so doesn't go with your scale colour, and you jewellery is so gaudy! Ugh. You must have the fashion sense of a drunken Ape!"
"Wh…What!" Wintra asked, incredulously as Lyr shifted his body to accentuate his feminine features.
"Are you deaf too, girl?" Lyr demanded, continuing his act, highly amused at the shocked expressions they made as he played along with their insult, completely throwing them off guard. "I wouldn't be surprised; you must be blind with your choice of cape. That red totally clashes with your eyes. You should be ashamed!"
Wintra and her two friends stood in disbelief as Lyrith berated the Queen of Ice, using their insult to launch jibe after jibe at them while they tried to recover.
Finally, satisfied that he had gotten his point across, Lyrith huffed, tossed his head and strutted away, tossing one final insult back at them.
"I think you and your ratty style should dump yourself in a trash bin, where it belongs...Girl!"
"You… You… ugly freak!" Wintra shouted back to Lyrith as he strutted away, exaggerating his lower body movements so that his hips swung from side to side, imitating the pompous stride many females used to attract males. "You won't be so smug when the exams are over! You hear! They will tear you apart!"
But Lyrith had already vanished out of the great hall, and even if he heard her weak comeback, made no attempt to counter it. Wintra stood for a moment, fuming, and when she was sure the Albino was gone, howled in rage. She turned and overturned the nearest object she could lift, which was nothing more than a small set of drawers nearby. She growled and glared at the two companions who she had brought with her, daring them to comment on the events that had taken place. Neither made any response, managing successfully to hide their amused expressions.
"That bleached snake will get what he deserves soon enough." Wintra huffed, calming herself with the thought. "Now then, back to what we were doing."
Wintra looked around and sighed. "Where in the ancestor's name is Torch?"
The moment Lyrith was out of sight of Wintra and her goons he immediately relaxed, returning to his normal pattern of walking. He smirked at the memory of her face when he had decided to go along with their ploy, acting the part to ruin the impact of their insult. It had been a bit awkward, talking and moving like a female, not to mention more than a little embarrassing, but the result had gotten its desired effect.
"That bitch never saw it coming!" Lyrith snickered. He started when he found that he was still using the female voice he had adopted, and quickly coughed a few times to get his voice sorted out. "That bitch never saw it coming." Lyr repeated in his normal tone of voice. He nodded, satisfied and then sped up his pace, wanting to put as much distance between him and Wintra as possible in case she decided to chase after him.
Lyr left the Temple halls and exited out into the gardens. It was still stormy out, but the wind was muffled by the many trees and high walls that surrounded the Dragon Temple like a shell. The garden he had stepped out onto was fairly clear of trees, and was almost entirely covered in beds of flowers. The wind being rougher here, Lyr quickly moved into one of the more forested gardens, away from the wind.
The white enjoyed his night excursions. Normally he would be flying about the Temple at this time of night, examining every nook and cranny he could find. But with the powerful winds, and dark clouds approaching on the horizon, he didn't want to take the chance of losing control while flying. So he would be walking instead.
The forested garden he strode into was thick with large trees, easily weakening the wind and leaving Lyrith unruffled in its midst. He sighed in relief as he was released from the stormy wind.
He padded through the garden, enjoying the fresh feel that the place brought him. He had rarely had time to be one with nature with his busy school life and enjoyed the experience whenever he could. The trees swayed in the wind and the smell of rain was growing slowly stronger as he wandered the Temple grounds.
Lyrith had been manoeuvring his way through a particularly dense and swampy garden, known as Lily Pad Grove, when an odd sound caught his attention. He stopped and tried to focus on it, but the wind made the task difficult. When he didn't hear it again, the Albino shrugged and continued on. It was less than a minute later when the sound came again, this time louder. Lyr stopped in his tracks as the sound registered. It was a low growl.
Instantly on the alert, he moved off in search of the noise. He wound his way through the trees of Lily Pad Grove, following the occasional sound towards his destination. It was irregular and odd sounding. There was only the occasional growl or gasp. Curiosity drove Lyr onwards now, as he found the closer he moved, the more sounds he could hear.
At first it was only the growls and gasps, but soon he heard grunting, panting and a rhythmic thumping sound as he moved closer towards the source of the noise. He was just nearing the noise, when a low groan of satisfaction, followed by a muffled sob emanated out from in front of Lyr. The sounds belonged to different voices, one of which he recognized.
A second later, the source of the sound came into view, and Lyrith stopped and crouched, keeping himself hidden. Torch stood above the prone form of Voltlyn, panting, his normally pristine cape and sashes were ruffled and his jewellery askew. A smug smirk was etched across his features.
Voltlyn however, lay weeping silently on the ground, she was covered in small cuts, and her body was bruised in several places. She shivered in the cold, and a gooey, white substance was encrusted to her rear. She scooted away from Torch, tears running down her face, accompanied by muffled whimpers. Her body was racked with the sobs she tried to hold in.
The realisation of what had occurred dawned on Lyrith instantly. Connecting the sounds he had heard to the sight before him.
"He forced himself on her!" Lyr raged, his body tensing, blood red eyes flashing. "That self-righteous ass forces himself on a female and has the nerve to look so… so happy! I will destroy him! I will rip his heart out!"
Images flashed before Lyr's eyes.
Three young dragons surrounding a teenaged Lyr, who lay beaten on the ground, whimpering. They laughed as they propped Lyrith up and moved into position…
An adolescent female white lying unmoving in an alleyway while a group of dragons walked away, laughing. A pool of blood soaked into the stone as Lyr wept over her…
The Mother, holding a small whip, leering down at Lyrith who quivered in his seat, too frightened to move…
The train of memories were suddenly broken as he watched Torch lean down over to Voltlyn's head, and whisper something to her. She quivered, and then nodded. Satisfied, the red prince stood up, straightened his cape and padded away, whistling cheerfully.
The rage and hate in Lyr's heart intensified a hundred fold as the prince walked away, as if nothing could touch him. For a moment, Lyrith contemplated attacking Torch from behind, and mauling him until he could never do what he had just done again. Then he gave up the idea. He forced the rage down to consider facts, a feat that was a hard as swallowing a boulder the size of his torso with one bite, and just as painful.
"If I attack him now, then I will likely be banished from the Temple, and I will never get another chance to be where I am now. And there is likely something else going on that I don't know about. If I just jump in there, for all I know I could be making things worse"
Lyrith immediately ruled out a consensual mating, as Voltlyn was still crying. Though she was no longer holding back now that Torch was gone.
"If they had been into fake rape then she would have stopped crying by now" Lyrith reasoned, "And she would have gone with him. So that can't be it."
Lyrith considered as many other options as he could think of as he watched Voltlyn get up unsteadily from her position and crawl across the ground to a nearby pond, sobbing the whole way. Lyr felt a sudden welling of pity for her, an emotion he had rarely felt in his time at the orphanage. She had just been abused, in the most hideous way possible, and yet for some reason she seemed resigned to it. As if it was her fate or duty to go through with it. The defeat in her gaze redoubled Lyr's hatred towards Torch, who he now saw as a personal enemy.
Voltlyn reached the pond crawling on her belly, and slid into it. She waded into the center of the pond and started scrubbing the residue off, determinedly cleaning all evidence of the violation from her body. Lyrith watched her from the underbrush, trying to decide what to do. Clearly Torch had raped her, and if the Guardians were alerted, they would likely exile Torch from the Temple forever. But Voltlyn also showed that she, for whatever reason, was hiding the fact, was likely to defend Torch if he was accused. Without any solid proof, Lyr would look like a fool trying to get the prince in trouble. Not only would he likely receive punishment instead, but would also likely make things worse off for Voltlyn once all suspicion of Voltlyn's rape had been banished. Lyr could not go to the Guardians for help now. Not unless she confessed to Torch's crime.
"I have to know." Lyrith thought, his eyes locked onto Voltlyn, who was now merely sniffing and hiccupping instead of her previous sobs. "I have to know if she will confess, I have to know whether or not he has any hold on her."
Now fully determined, Lyrith stepped out of the underbrush and into the small clearing Voltlyn was washing in. She immediately stiffened her tense state likely aiding her in sensing him so quickly. She turned slowly, and looked at him. She relaxed momentarily upon seeing him glad he wasn't Torch coming back for another round, and then abruptly flushed and dove into the water. The sight of her, hiding in vain under the water, only her eyes and nostrils staying above the surface might have been amusing to Lyrith had the situation not been so dire. He forced a warm smile, managing not to look threatening, and greeted the yellow dragoness.
"Hello, um… Voltlyn right? What are you doing here?"
Voltlyn's head rose above the water, her face flushed.
"I… Uh… I was just taking a swim. That's all." She replied, trying and failing to sound cheerful. "So... Um… What are you doing here?"
Lyr wondered for a moment at why she would be so embarrassed, and then it dawned on him. He had just walked in to a female washing herself. The Albino flushed back, his face turning a bright red. He coughed awkwardly, but held his grin.
"I was just going for a night stroll, when I heard some crying from this direction. Was that you? Are you okay?" Lyrith asked, feigning ignorance, hoping she would confess to what he already knew. Voltlyn shook her head frantically, eyes suddenly wild, all embarrassment gone.
"N… No, I'm fine. Perfectly happy." She grinned, sitting up in the water now. Lyrith eyed her wounds doubtfully.
"Then why are you covered in scratches?" He asked, and Voltlyn immediately hid herself in the water again.
"Oh… Th-those? I was just… I was just taking a stroll, and fell into a rose bush. They hurt a lot." She added, hoping Lyrith would leave the subject alone. Lyr mentally snarled at her stubbornness on the subject.
"They look more like claw marks to me." Lyr said, a touch of anger entering his voice as the memory of finding her with Torch rose again to his mind. Voltlyn balked.
"They… They were really big thorns! Huge!" She explained desperately, "Like claws. That's why they look like claw wounds."
"I see." Lyrith grunted. "You're a terrible liar." He thought as he turned away. He didn't bother to point out the obvious bite wounds on her neck, or the smudges of white goo on her face as he slowly walked away. She would have denied them anyway.
When Lyrith reached the line of trees surrounding he turned back to face her. She had sat back up relief on her face as he had left; now she stiffened again as he spoke to her.
"Good night Voltlyn. It was nice meeting you. I certainly hope you don't fall into any more rose bushes again." He turned with a jerk, his anger seeping off of him as he stormed away, leaving Voltlyn behind to wash away the evidence of a crime she would never admit to.
"What have you done to her Torch to so badly break her?" Lyr demanded silently as he padded back to the Temple entrance. "Whatever it is, I will find out, and then, once I have fixed up the mess you've made of Voltlyn. I will bring you to your knees and have you beg for mercy. Of which you deserve none."
Lyrith reached the Temple, his thoughts churning as he made his way back up to his room, trying to think of what could have happened to Voltlyn to make her hold her tongue.
He passed by a window and looked down. Far below he could see the figure of a topaz dragoness, slowly slinking her way back into the Temple. And Lyr's chest tightened in anger at the hopelessness she must be feeling, and in frustration at the inability to do anything about it.
"Don't worry Voltlyn." Lyrith promised as he watched her enter the Temple from high above. "I will find out what is holding you back, and break that chain. I swear it."
Characters created by Dardarax:
Savron's gang: (Lyrith, Sleet, Savron, Tirren, Igneous, Zindy, Typhous)
Torch's gang: (Torch, Voltlyn, Wintra)
Happy birthday! I'm turning 18! Woohoo! This is my present to all of you, so I hope you enjoyed it.
And with that out of my system, on to the note. This chapter was a bit difficult for me to write. Not necessarily because it was bad (which it wasn't), but because it was a set up chapter. No not a filler chapter, too many important things are happening here to be called that, a set up chapter is setting up the plot to come (as its name implies). Sleet's training, Savron's adventure, and Lyr's side plot to save Voltlyn from Torch, and get the bastard back for abusing her, are all plot points of importance to come.
So, thanks for reading. The next chapter looks to be the longest one yet (at some 46 hand written pages. Six or so more than chapter 10), so while it may take a while, it will be worth the wait in the end.