A/N: Hello again, my faithful readers. Thank you for putting up with my fewer updates. I remember when I updated once a week. Seems kinda odd now. But any way, thank you all for reviewing my story. I now have 100+ reviews. Whoop! That means I am just below my beta and good friend, Unit. Hey, pal, Thanks for your betaing. I can't remember if I thanked you yet, but here I am.
Another announcement, this one about the poll. So far, Dimitri, Syra, and Aiden are in the lead with four votes each. Please vote on the poll, I am pretty certain you can just pop in and take a vote. It would make me happy.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything or any character from the cannon Spyro franchise, I do, however, own my OCs.
Chapter 20: The Repercussions
Talos sighed as he walked from the training room to his and Pyre's own. This was perhaps the worst part of the day, going back from his morning training session. He had to pass by three certain rooms, rooms that housed the familiesof his deceased team. Two of the four, Noubell and Brutus, had family that was waiting on them.
Talos flinched as the pained sobs spilled from the first room he passed by. The wailing was as fresh as the first time she had been told, and that had been little over a week ago. The dragoness behind the door was Furost, Noubell's mate-to-be. Noubell was one of the younger of the mercenaries. From what Talos knew, the two of them had been friends since birth, and in love for about the same length of time. They did anything to make the other happy, even if it involved gaining the affections of another dragon. They eventually became engaged, but Noubell had been called to the Crags, his grave.
The next door was deathly silent. But not the silence that showed an empty room, but a kind of black silence. It sucked in any emotionthat was not grief, sending them all deep down to a pit that permitted no light. A silence that was screaming with crushing grief, grief heavy enough to turn a lump of coal to a diamond in a matter of hours. Behind this door was Noubell's mother, Derees. From Noubell's stories about the ice dragoness, she had been a noble. Derees had arranged for Noubell to be the next Ice Guardian, but when he hatched as an Albino, her plans changed to raise the perfect gentleman. She had always treated Noubell like she treated any of her other children. But now, she could barely make a single sound.
Talos finally passed the last door. Instead of grief and sadness leeching from the room, rage flew out in thick, suffocating waves. There was the sound of crashing and anger filled roars. Talos could feel the anger, like a heavy, muggy heat that fell on his shoulders and dragged him down. This was the room of Sephia, Brutus' mate. She was the only dragoness that had reacted by immediately blaming Talos. He could still remember her rage filled shrieks, as well as her burning gaze.
Sephia had never liked Talos, despite the fact her mate was one of his best friends. Not in the slightest. Now, her dislike was hate, and was well justified.
The sounds of crashing stopped, and Talos expected to hear at least one sob. But there was only a subtle click, the same clicking that an unlocking door made. Without warning, Sephia burst out of her room, her fangs bared and claws extended as she charged Talos. Talos simply stepped back and held out his own foreleg, catching her head and holding her at arm's length. Her tail came around and knocked his forearm up, allowing her to continue her charge and plant her horns right at his solar-plex. His breath left him as that vital spot was hit. She followed up the strike by trying to claw his throat out.
She is ticked. She is trying to kill me. Talos thought as he stepped back and batted her paw away. Sephia's jaw fell open and she let out a torrent of wind. The air picked up his wings and sent him tumbling down the hall. When he got up, Sephia was charging head long at him. At the last second, Talos stepped out of the way, reared on his hind legs, and dropped his forepaws and weight on her back. She screeched in pain as she collided with the ground, and the added pressure of Talos just served to bring more pain. But, physically hundred as she may be, her sharpest weapon was still free. Her tongue.
"You killed them!" She screamed at him as she struggled under his feet. "They are dead because of you! You lead them like lambs to a slaughter! You cursed monster!" She shrieked at him, the words dragging tears to the corners of her eyes. "They are gone, and you are to fault," Her rage had died down, and sadness was crashing into her voice. "Curse you…" She whimpered out quietly as the tears began to stain her eyes.
"CURSE YOU TO HELL AND BEYOND! BURN IN THE FIERY PIT THAT YOU CREATED FOR YOURSELF!" Sephia screamed as sobs started to wrack her body. Furost and Derees both had left their rooms to see what all the commotion was about by now. Talos glared at them as they walked closer, his face an unreadable mask. In his mind, though, his thought were reeling. He stepped off of Sephia, motioning for Furost and Derees to take her away.
The two females stepped and wrapped their tails around Sephia's forepaws, guiding where she set down her paws like she was blind. She practically was, both because she refused to accept any kind of consultation from Talos, and because she was covering her head with her wings right now. She refused to let him see her cry, thinking that it would give him some sort of satisfaction. That was only more evidence of the grief clouding her mind. Some of his mercenaries had left their posts to see the commotion, but a stern glance from Talos sent them on their way. He shook his head and carried on his way till he stood in front of his own room and pushed the door open.
Pyre was laying on the balcony, her upper-half slumped over the rail as she basked in the sun. When she heard the door open, she stood on her feet and waddled over to Talos. She smiled as she rubbed against him.
"Hey Talos." She greeted as she rubbed her sun-warmed scales against his side. Talos grunted, the most recent encounter with Sephia still on his mind. Pyre seemed to notice his discomfort. "What's wrong, love?" She asked as she saw the discomfort on his face.
"You should be laying down." He stated, disguising his discomfort as worry for his mate. She was due to lay her eggs very, very soon. She smiled at him and nuzzled his chin.
"Okay, but can you lay down with me? It is a little chilly, here in the shade." Pyre said with a smile. Talos returned it with a smaller one.
"Sure." He said as she curled on the cushion, Talos curling around her and draping his wings over her. She sighed happily and leaned against him. It was a while before either of them spoke.
"Now will you tell me what is wrong?" Pyre asked as she turned her head to look at the albino captain. Talos sighed and brought a paw up, gently rubbing her bulging stomach.
"Is it my fault that they are dead?" He asked her. "Sephia insists so. Brutus, Noubell, Border and Collie, they were all under my command and protection."
Pyre gently nosed his cheek and place her own paw over his. "Talos, you of all dragons should be used to people scorning you." She gave him a sympathetic look. "People will always hate and scorn you, whether for good reason or not. But you have always been strong enough to stare them in the eye and take their spit to your eye. You know this better than anyone." Pyre said, her eyes clouding with grief as she remembered the events that lead to Talos leaving their village.
"I know this, Pyre." Talos said.
"Then why have you forgotten, and why do you dwell on Sephia's bitterness?"
"Because it makes me think what you would do if I died." Talos answered. Pyre's gaze softened and she nuzzled his neck.
"I would be lost. But, you have left something with me that I will never let go of." Pyre replied, and Talos gentle squeezed Pyre's stomach. "You have left your legacy in me, and this child will always be yours, and you. I will never completely lose you, Talos." Talos stretched his neck down and nuzzled Pyre's muzzle, letting his own muzzle linger. It wasn't long before the two of them fell asleep.
≤Ω≥
Connor stared at the flask of greenish water in his hand. He turned it over and over, feeling the coolness of the water inside. His mind jumped back to when he had run into the hare, Turner. Connor was going to go into the Grotto, but Turner was there first. As he walked past the old wolf, he slipped the flask into Connor's hand. He looked haggard and tired, saying "You know what to do with this, just like what you did at Icefang."
Connor once more stared at it. Did he really want to drink this water? If he was right, then it could bring him peace. If he was wrong, he would have nothing. "If that is the case, what is the point in not?" He thought to himself as he removed the cork, and drink the water from the Pool of Visions. Almost immediately, his vision began to dim. "So it does work…" He slurred as he stood up and stumbled to the bed. Sleep was approaching like a vanguard, and by the time Connor had reached the bed, he fell straight into it.
It was cold. The scent of pines and other coniferous trees wafted around him, along with the warm and musky smell of moose. Connor groaned and pushed himself to his feet, looking around. Hewas… home. This was the clearing where the apprentices had battle training. If he remembered, then there should be a beaten path nearby. There it was! Connor ran to it, kneeling down and running his hands over the smooth dirt. He placed a foot on it, feeling the compact and frozen ground beneath his boot.
With little hesitation, he set off at a fast lope. He could keep this pace all day if he had to, but he knew where he was going. He was caught off guard when another wolf stepped in front of him. Connor managed to stop just barely in time. The wolf removed their hood, revealing a blacked furred head and purple eyes. The she-wolf, for it was a girl, smiled sweetly at Connor; she was the wolf from his flashbacks. He did not return the smile. He just stared at her, looking like he had seen a ghost.
"Hello, Connor." She said as the smile on her face spread wider. It faltered when he took a step back. She spread her arms, and with a light joking tone said "I'm waiting." It only took a second of thinking before Connor stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the she-wolf.
"Branna," He said as her familiar scent drifted around him. "Oh, Branna, I am sorry."
The she-wolf, Branna, hugged him back. "I lay no blame on you" She said to him. "Others, well..." She finished awkwardly, but Connor didn't let go.
"Eight years." he said as his hold around her tightened. "Eight years I have been on this cursed land, eight years since I have last seen you," Connor brought his head back, looking at the she-wolf, taking in all of her features. "And you are as beautiful," Connor paused as his voice caught in his throat "and as lovely as the when I left, as the day I first saw you." Connor said as he brought his hand up and cupped it against her cheek. Branna tilted her head against Connor's warm paw, closing her eyes and whispering "Athair ionúin." Branna and Connor stood there for a while, till eventually Branna took a step back.
"I wish we could do this more often, or that this was a personal visit. We have been waiting for you to drink that water." Branna said as her countenance sobered a little. "Celestialpack, they want you to go back to the Icefang." Branna said, looking to the old brown wolf with hope in her eyes.
"What? I, I cannot!" Connor said, shaking his head.
"Why not, Connor?! You have the permission of Celestialpack themselves! What could stop you?" Branna said, louder than necessary.
Connor said, in a quiet voice. "There is Clancy…" Branna quieted.
"Even he has to submit to the will of Celestialpack." Branna tried to say.
"It still doesn't matter. There are others that would cast me out or have me killed." Connor said.
"And there are also those who would greet you with love-"
"WHEN THEY SHOULDN'T!" Connor raged, making Branna shrink back. "Sorry, but you know how much the Code of Honor means to me. It says that I am not welcome there anymore." Connor said as his shoulders slumped and his head dropped. Branna recovered, and gently wrapped Connor in a hug.
"But what is more important, the pack, or a code that you are being told to break, and only for now?" Branna asked.
"What do you mean? Is the pack in danger?"
"All the packs are.And you are to lead them to victory, and you are to be at the head of the Packs of Icefang." The vision began to fade.
"Wait! What do you mean? Branna! Branna!" Connor called out as the pine forest began to fade to mist.
"Good bye, Connor, Athair ionúin. I love you."
"Connor! Co-nnor!" Syra's voice was rousing him. He was in the temple. Not, home. "Connor! They want you at the Grotto!" He opened his eyes and groaned as he sat up. Syra was pawing at him. Looking unhappy. "Get up! You are always bagging on me when I don't! Get up!" using her head, she pushed Connor out of his bed and onto his feet.
"I get the point, pup. You can calm down. Why is it so important anyway?" Connor asked as he stretched, checking all of the straps on his harness.
"Ignitus says I have to go, and that you are coming with."
"Where are we going?"
"Icefang."Home. To Clancy.
≤Ω≥
Commander Grindbeck. An experienced ape general, chosen to accompany the forces to Dante's Freezer and relieve the commanding officer there. He was a formidable ape, with broad shoulders and thick, hairy arms. He had several locks of hair dangling in front his face that he would unconsciously brush away back with his thick fingers. It was a habit formed many years ago. It was late and storming, as always, as he sat in Spes Morte. He had traveled to Concurrent Skies when receiving his summons, and now he was being sent off again.
He sat at his table, running over the many formations, plans, fortress schematics, and what-not. The room was lit by a dim candle. There was a bed at one side, a weapon rack to the other, and the desk he was at was pushed against the wall, facing away from the door.
"You know," A voice came from nowhere, causing Grindbeck to jump out of his seat and spin around. "There was a time when apes were just massive hoards that slammed against anything that stood in front of them. Sure, they could remove villages, but a good defense or wall could send them backwards easily." The voice said again. Grindbeck lit another candle, the extra light revealing who it was that was speaking. It was a hare, about a five feet and six inches tall. His fur was brown, and he was wearing green pants. There was medical wrap around his stomach and midsection, as well as the upper part of his right arm. He slipped what appeared to be a thick and small disk of bronze into his pocket, and left the thin chain outside of his pocket.
"But now," The hare started again, "you are a formidable army. Not a horde. You have been whipped into shape by Spyro. Cynder could never have done it herself." The hare finished.
"What do you want?" Grindbeck asked, his hand unconsciously brushing his hair from his face. The hare tsk a few times.
"If you were to become, unavailable, then Commander Gahiji would have to take your stead and go the Dante's Freezer. That is what I want." With a powerful launch, the hare was across the room and right in front of Grindbeck. The hare pivoted and sent his fist into Grindbeck's stomach, the ape doubling over. He then wrapped his arm around Grindbeck's throat, rolled to his back and kicked the ape across the room. He grunted as the wait of the ape pushed most of the breath out of his body.
"Note to self, never do that with an ape again." The hare muttered as he sprang forward, grabbing a spear from the weapons rack. Twisting around, and with perfect aim, he throw the spear, the sailing weapon finding its mark in the center of Grindbeck's heart. The hare smirked. "Still got it." The hare remarked as the door burst open and three ape soldiers tried to shoulder in. The hare launched himself at them, twisting in midair and kicking the middle one with his powerful legs. The ape was sent flying out of the door way and sliding against the smooth stone ground. The other two stumbled backward, leaving a place for the hare to escape. He sent himself through the door with another hop.
The hop sent him against the wall. He kicked off of it, sending himself higher. He began to fall, heading right for the ape he had kicked. The hare fell at the Ape's neck, and at the last second, shot his legs out. His feet slammed into the apes throat, and with a crack, the ape's neck was broken. He flailed a little as the hare remained on the ape's throat, keeping the pain high and his breathing gone.
The other ape charged at the hare. The hare simply side-stepped the ape, smacking his back and pushing him further, then turned to the third ape. He ran up, crouching low at the last second and sweeping the ape's legs out from underneath him. The ape crumpled and yelped as he fell. The hare stood up, took a step forward, and delivered a powerful kick into the ape's head. The apes flew a few feet, flinging his sword away in the process, and rammed head first into a stone wall. There was a loud crack, and blood trickled from the ape's head.
The second ape ran up and swung his axe for the hare's neck. The hare turned around just in time to see the axe blade an inch away from his throat.
The second ape ran up and swung his axe for the hare's neck. The hare turned around just before the axe was an inch away from his throat, dropping to the ground and rolling backward and clearing the ape's reach. The hare grabbed the sword that was flung from the third ape. The second launched himself at the hare. The hare stepped to the side and held out the sword, the ape blindly sending himself into the blade. The hare stood up and looked around, frowning at all the evidence. As he turned to walk away, an axe embedded itself right next to his head. He spun around, and saw an ape. This ape stood out due to his left ear being chewed off.
"Turner, why, it is nice to see you here." The ape said, smiling in the way a psychopath would before he skinned his victim alive. Turner scowled at the ape. "What are you doing here?"
"Speeding things up, Mycroft. I don't really like this place. It makes no sense. And, I'm a rabbit. I don't like rabbits." Turner said as he tapped his leg, as if to emphasize his body.
"You're a hare." The ape said as his smile faltered a little.
"Same difference. I just want to get out of here quickly." Turner said as he reached into his pocket and took out the thick bronze disk.
"Why are you so certain Connor will win? If he doesn't, well, you know what happens." The ape asked as his smile faltered again, as if he was considering to keep smiling or not.
"He has more strength, skill, and experience. What makes you think Gahiji will win?" Turner asked.
"He reminds me of myself when I was young. Clever, quick." Mycroft began to list.
"Savage, psychopathic, may I continue." Turner interrupted, causing Mycroft to growl.
"I am not a psychopath, I am a high functioning sociopath." Mycroft said calmly, but his annoyance was evident. The sound of footsteps echoed along the hall. "You might want leave now. These apes know how to have my kind of fun." Mycroft said as he strolled past Turner. The hare was about to press a button on his bronze disk, but Mycroft stopped him.
"Using your watch to go back to your base? You are starting to takes some risks. Not the Turner I know." He said with his same, disturbing smile.
"I don't care." Turner said, pressing a button on the pocket watch. There was a small flash, and he was gone. He appeared in the Grotto, in the dragon temple. Looking around, he saw a flask. He grabbed it and went over to the pool of visions, dipping the flask in and filling it. He stood up and walked over to the door, ready to leave. As he Left the Grotto, Turner bumped into Connor. He slipped the flask into Connor's hand. The wolf looked at him oddly.
"You know what to do with this, just like what you did at Icefang."
A/N: I hope that last scene teased you people with what it was about. I can't really tell you. It is between me and Ghost. Thanks once more to Unit Omicron for betaing (I doubt that is a really word) and all you readers for being patient with me. School is a pain, and football will be ending soon. But, now to move onto responding to reviews.
Admiral Kirk: Well, you have to wait no longer. The update is here.
Zilla0128: Richter is quite popular. He is a neat OC, from a neat author.
B1ackbird: Thank you, I believe that good characters make or break a story. And fir the part about the villains, I do that so you are conflicted about what happens to them. Do you want them to die, to live, I want to make you think. But, some villains can never be good. I.e, Spyro.
Moonlight the Assassin: If that was the case, he would have to been born again, along with someone else. But don't worry, multiple universes will be, mentioned. Heh heh hehhhhhhh…..
BlueThunderfanracing: Yes, yes he is. I like to think I have thrown everyone for a loop with my version of Spyro.
Avimus: Yes, I love my references. There is even one in this chapter. And, Ithink that there are less fused words now.
No, Syra doesn't quite know what she wants. She is only ten. And, she is suborn. She will not change her goals easily.
Moving on to the bit about waves, I am happy that the imagery got there. I wanted to storm to seem savage, like it didn't care about what is was doing to Syra, it just wanted to torment anyone who was caught in it.
And, when you have an investment, and it doesn't show progress in the first week, do you get rid of it? Spyro has an investment in Syra, so he won't be killing her.
You are starting to get a glimpse of a part of Syra that she isn't even aware of. It is so fun to develop her, because she is just a hodge-podge of contradictories.
Unit Omicron: Avimus pretty much did. You really think this is the bet one? Thank you. I usually think my first chapter is one of the best, but I guess it is up to the reader.
You literally give me praise that I look at and go 'Uhhh, I just thought it would sound interesting…' I guess it is kind of something you don't notice, even after it has been pointed out. But thank you, very much for your words.
Thank you. I can say easily that fight scenes are my specialty. I always enjoy to write them. I seem to have a little trouble with scenery, because I think that people can somehow read my mind and know what I am thinking of.
SOLI DEO GLORIA