Brambles and Fire

Enjoy. I hope you find something positive in among this.

All reviews appreciated.

"'Want to talk with me alone,' she says," Spyro grumbled, "Like me being there could hurt...if I'm going to try and be the best part of her life, I should know about it!" Spyro swung his tail angrily at the ground and paced back across the hall. "Whether they get it or not, Cynder doesn't need to keep secrets anymore." He stared hard at the door, wishing he could see and hear inside it. His shoulders slumped in a self-depreciated sigh. "Maybe I'm trying too hard."

His eyes drifted to the left, glazing over the stony stretch of wall ahead of him. Plain and uninteresting, hopefully like the conversation inside. Eventually, he rested his eyes on the next door over. Cynder had mentioned that she, or perhaps they, would meet him in there after they had finished.

He stood and padded over to the door, he glanced back one more time before slipping inside it.

Immediately, the light blinded him. Something that sat just inside the window seemed to be making the midday sunlight even brighter. Eyes squinted, he shuffled over, out of the direct light.

As his eyes adjusted, he began to smile. Creeping toward the window in silent awe, his gaze was fixed on the carving of ice that had blinded him. Though, oddly, the outside didn't gleam in the sun. He reached forward with one paw and scratched gently at the base, removing a thin, flaky layer of ice. In the moment he took to look down at his claw, the frost replaced itself.

The statue sat several heads higher than he was, looming over him in such a way that he had to take several measured steps back to examine it.

Seamless, crisp ice greeted him in the form of his own features, horn to tail. It felt as though he were looking into a vast mirror as he glanced back and forth between his own body and the sculpture. Quite literally, the replica was perfect- only, it didn't show the injuries he had received during his fall. Then, following Ice-Spyro's tail, Spyro looked to the carving of Cynder.

Quickly he turned around and stalked toward the bed. It was amazing, but no substitute. He had no desire to look at a statue when she was in the next room, being kept from him.

[][][]

"Cynder," Agalia began as soon as Spyro stepped out, "we've not told...well, anyone the whole truth." She paused, and backed slowly to lay beside Proletariat. "In fact, even now we can't do that. I mean, it wouldn't be worth trying to convince you."

Cynder scoffed and lowered to the floor just in front of the door, watching all three of them. "Everyone has secrets. It isn't like, ah, you could ever know everything about someone."

"Yes, that's all very well," Bourgeoisie grumbled. "We need this to be brief."

"Sorry," Agalia said, shooting Proletariat a look that, after having been with her a while, he knew well. But he simply shrugged at her, indicating to go on.

"Since I was 'elected' to speak," she continued, "I will. First of all, Cynder, has Ignitus seemed any different recently?"

"From when we came back? Um. Yes, a bit."

"Well, good. We don't really know Ignitus much- but he's why we're here. He is...a problem."

Cynder cocked her head to the side and looked again between the three of them. "How, ah, how so?"

"Where we come from, he is the source of every problem."

"But how? He's always been good and kind. Everyone who knows him trusts him! Even if he has changed a little, there's not a-"

"Cynder, shut up," Bourgeoisie snapped, "If you want to get out of here unscathed, you'll still your tongue."

"Bourgeoisie, she's here to try and help," Proletariat assured him, "But she doesn't understand it yet."

"Right, so, we need to decide how to deal with him, Cynder," Agalia cut in, "Sp- uh, we don't want to kill him, because that's sinking down past even his level. We were thinking that, maybe, through you and Spyro we can fix what has gone wrong."

Cynder lowered her head, staring as she flexed her paws. "I...I don't know that Ignitus even likes me anymore. He hasn't said anything more than he absolutely had to to me. But it isn't too out of the ordinary."

"Huh, we were hoping you'd know what got him this way," Proletariat commented.

"N-no, no idea." She shrugged. "Wait a second- you said kill him!"

"Yes, that's what we can't do," Bourgeoisie muttered and with a smile he added, "Would be a lot easier."

"No, it'd be murder; nothing you've said could justify that!"

Abruptly, Bourgeoisie stood and thrust his snout against Cynder's. With a low growl, he pushed forward and bent her neck until she could see the ceiling on either side of his muzzle. His claws flexed and scraped against the floor.

"You have no idea what he will do. Do you want to know why we are here? We were sent here to deal with him. If I were alone, I'd have already had my way with him!" Bourgeoisie shrieked.

Slowly he backed up, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. It's just...I let things get to me sometimes."

Still reared back, Cynder managed, "Not a...problem. I can be the same way. If you don't mind my asking, you said you were sent, right? Sent by whom?"

"This is one of those things I mentioned. You wouldn't understand," Agalia assured her, "Or you would just think us to be lying."

With a curt nod, Cynder met her gaze. "What else do you have to tell me?"

"Actually," Proletariat responded, "now is your turn. We need your help to do this, but it is up to you to offer."

"Offer...I, uh, I can talk to Spyro about it. What if I got Ignitus to meet with the three of you- just the three of you?"

Immediately Agalia nodded. "Exactly, that'd be a big-"

"No," Bourgeoisie cut in, "that might not be quite enough. How about him meeting with the five of us; once Spyro is in on it, he will have the most leverage of any one of us."

"Yeah, okay," Cynder muttered. "I'll get him to ask as soon as we can."

[}[]{]

"Spyro? Spyro is something wrong?" Cynder lifted a paw and waved it slowly in front of his face. "We've been standing on this dragon's porch for twenty minutes now, at least. Hello?"

Spyro shook his head and looked over at her. "Oh, sorry...lost in thought. And now, no, we don't need to be here. I'm going to find Ignitus."

"Now?"

"Yes. I cannot take any more of this...feeling. It's not normal; I'm going to fix it."

He stepped back onto the open ground and took quickly to the sky, only waiting a heartbeat for Cynder to follow and catch up.

"What feeling, Spyro?"

"Hate, sadness, they're the same at this point. I feel it from everywhere." He shivered.

"And you're going to fix it. How?" Cynder asked, "What can you do here?"

"It's simple. I'm going to find out what happened to Ignitus. Where will he be?"

"Um, he lives behind the town hall."

Spyro nodded. "Good, then let's go."

Cynder turned her head slightly, pulling ahead to look into his eyes. What little doubt she had about this Spyro dissolved in that instant. She couldn't tell what he himself was feeling, but on the outside she could see the suffering that she had been spared. And here he was, pulling it in from every individual inside of the city.

"Cynder," he murmured, "what does Agalia deserve?"

"I'm sorry?"

"If she really cares about that Proletariat kid, I'd want him to have her. But she doesn't exist in my time."

Cynder closed her eyes. "It sure seemed like it. Yeah, I think she is good for and to him."

"Once this fail, I'll take her back with me. From what I picked up at a distance, they won't be able change Ignitus. Plus, if they had, things would probably already have, right?"

"I don't know, Spyro. Just one...question...what happens to me?"

"I guess you just disappear. You will still be, but, I guess, it won't be you," Spyro trailed off, looking straight down, "We're here, I'd assume."

Cynder followed his gaze, and mumbled, "Yes, we are. The statues of Ignitus are a nice touch, eh?"

"Mhm...no."