A/N: I'm tired and should be in bed right now, but what the hey, you've waited long enough. I had a bit of trouble getting this chapter edited, and on that note I want to thank Feanor-the-Dragon and Torchie1 for replying to my plea for help and editing this chapter for me. You guys rock. :D Erm, not much to say here, I'm super tired and stuff.

Oh yeah, the poll is now closed and there was a clear winner... Sorry for anyone who would have preferred shorter chapters, but it seems like the majority of you (at least those who voted) enjoy the long ones. For now I'm trying to keep them at 10 000 words or under, for the sake of my own sanity, but I have no idea how long that's going to last...

Anyway, super thanks to my reviewers as usual! Please enjoy this chapter, everyone. :D

25.

"…and then, just when we thought we were safe, just when we thought our night couldn't get any worse, out of the darkness there came—!"

"Gotcha!"

Arms fastened around Sparx's abdomen from behind and he cut himself off with a high-pitched squeal of terror. He wrenched himself out of the hold of whatever had grabbed him and flew screaming to hide behind a large mushroom, trembling. Peals of laughter filled the air and Sparx lifted his head timidly. A blue dragonfly was hovering where he had been moments ago, doubled over in a fit of giggles that was soon joined by the laughter of her two friends—Sparx's former audience. Blushing furiously, Sparx came out of hiding.

"Lulu!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What was that for?"

The female dragonfly wiped away her tears of laughter and met Sparx's indignant gaze, "S-Sorry, I couldn't help it! Y-You were just s-so intent on the story that I…"

She broke off into another fit of giggles, leaving Sparx looking very embarrassed. The other two dragonflies who had been listening to his ghost story were snickering behind their hands. Expelling a sigh, Sparx pouted and turned away.

"Well if that's how I'm going to be treated, maybe I just won't tell you stories anymore."

Lulu the blue dragonfly stifled her laughter, "Oh, don't do that, Sparx. We like your stories. It was just a bit of fun."

Sparx glanced slyly over his shoulder, "Oh yeah? Well it wasn't my idea of fun. Wanna know what my idea of fun, is?"

Lulu opened her mouth to respond, but never got that far. In a flash, Sparx had spun around and grabbed her, tickling the base of her wings and grinning mischievously. The blue dragonfly squealed as she tried to get away, giggles escaping her again as she tried in vain to push him away.

"This is fun!" he exclaimed, before emitting an obviously forced evil laugh that had the other two dragonflies rolling their eyes. Lulu broke out of his hold, still laughing, and zipped away towards a low hillock, Sparx in tow.

A bronze-scaled dragon lay warming his scales in the midday sun on that very hillock and his ruby eyes cracked open when the two dragonflies shot past, laughing. Yawning, he raised his head, "Stop messing around. Can't a dragon sunbake in peace?"

Sparx hovered to a halt and turned back, "You spend too much time sleeping there, anyway! Keep it up and you'll get fat like Spyro."

"Better than being a twig like you," Nadi grunted, resting his head on his paws again.

Lulu hovered back to Sparx and whispered something in his ear, earning a grin from him. Holding a finger to his lips, he flew silently into a nearby bush and returned with a sharp twig in one hand. Winking at Lulu, Sparx flew back to the dozing Nadi as quietly as he could, sneaking around behind him. The bronze dragon cracked an eye open.

"You've gone quiet," he muttered. "What's going o—OW! Hey!"

Jumping up, Nadi whirled around to glare at Sparx. The dragonfly was now laughing uproariously, the sharp twig—with which he had just stabbed Nadi's flank—still clutched in his hand. The bronze dragon's eyebrow twitched with irritation, although it had hardly hurt worse than a tiny bug bite.

"What's the big idea?"

"F-Fight me, you foul beast!" Sparx stammered between guffaws, waving his twig around like a tiny sword. "I am the mighty Sparx, slayer of dragons!"

"And I am the mighty dragon-who-has-to-deal-with-annoying-pests, eater of dragonflies!" With a wry grin, Nadi pounced on Sparx and flattened him to the ground between his forepaws. The dragonfly squealed and threw his hands up to protect his face, sending his sword-twig flying. Chancing a peek, he cracked an eye open and beheld a set of sharp, grinning fangs. Sparx screamed again and covered his eyes.

"Oh no, don't eat him!" Lulu squealed, flying forwards with a hand outstretched. "He won't taste very good, honestly!"

"Lulu!" Sparx protested between clenched teeth. "I'm the mighty warrior, not you! I should be saving you!"

The blue dragonfly put her hands on her hips, her unusually long antennae swaying behind her back, "Well, you don't look like you're in much of a position to be saving anyone, mighty warrior."

Nadi rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Lulu instead, "All right, then maybe I should eat you instead!"

He made to pounce on the female dragonfly, but she darted away with a scream and a laugh, calling over her shoulder, "On second thoughts, you can eat him! I'm sure he'd taste fine!"

"Lulu! Hey!" Sparx struggled under the paws of his captor, pummelling tiny fists against bronze scales. "Let me up!"

Nadi grinned down at him, "Only if you promise to stop being a pest."

Sparx stroked his chin thoughtfully, as though imagining a substantial beard like the one the old Chronicler had sported. Then he stuck his tongue out at Nadi and announced, "No deal."

Nadi shrugged, "Eating it is, then."

And without another word he opened his mouth wide and lowered his head. Sparx squealed and covered his face, a dramatic howl of 'I'm too young to die!' leaving his lips. But then Nadi stopped, his teeth inches from Sparx's abdomen, and the yellow dragonfly heard Lulu's voice from somewhere above.

"I've got him, Sparx! Get away while you can!" from the sound of her voice, Sparx could tell she was barely holding back her laughter.

Grimacing, Sparx pounded at Nadi's talons for what felt like the hundredth time and finally felt them shift, releasing his tiny body. With a whoop, he hovered back up to the dragon's eye-level and saw Lulu clinging to one of his horns, putting on a great show of trying to hold him back. Nadi was barely concealing his smirk.

"Fiend!" he cried to the blue dragonfly. "Let me go!"

"Never!" she called, eyes squeezed shut. "Not until you release your prisoner!"

Sparx tapped her shoulder, "Uh, Lulu, I'm right here."

"Oh." She released Nadi's horn, grinning sheepishly as she hid her hands behind her back. The other two dragonflies rolled their eyes for the umpteenth time that day and flew off, bored.

"How come I was the damselfly in distress?" Sparx protested minutes later when all three of them were lounging about at the crest of the hillock. Nadi passed the disgruntled dragonfly a grin.

"It just suits your personality so well…"

"Hey!"

Lulu giggled behind her hands, "But Nadi wouldn't really eat you, would you, Nadi?"

"Maybe if he annoyed me enough. But then he might get stuck in my teeth."

"Yeah, that's right," Sparx prodded Nadi's snout. "You eat me and I'll keep on annoying you long after I'm eaten! Oh, and Spyro would probably torch you, too."

"Wouldn't want to mess with the purple dragon. Or his mighty brother."

"Now you're catching on." Sparx yawned and stretched his arms over his head, leaning back to rest against one of Nadi's horns. Lulu settled down on the dragon's head beside him.

"You know, you're not so bad, Nadi," the yellow dragonfly admitted after several seconds of silence. "You're nothing like when we first met you! Heck, I thought you were gonna be as shy as Zephira!"

"Who?" Nadi asked curiously.

"Oh," Sparx waved a hand, though Nadi couldn't see it, "just a dragoness we know back at Warfang. She's really shy. Like, really. You were acting kinda like her when we first met you. What gives?"

Nadi smiled vaguely and shrugged, "I'm just not used to meeting new dragons. Kinda makes me nervous, you know? I guess it takes me a while to warm up to others."

"Just wait till you get to Warfang. There's hundreds of dragons there. But I'm sure you'll fit right in. You know, scales, claws, weird bat wings—you're all dragons, right?" Sparx casually slung an arm over Lulu's shoulders and her cheeks turned pink. It was a few moments before Nadi replied, and when he did it was only a single word.

"Yeah."

Silence descended upon them like a heavy blanket, not entirely comfortable, but not awkward either. Sparx grinned inwardly when Lulu didn't shrug his arm away and instead snuggled subtly closer. The midday sun crept through the canopy and warmed his wings. He closed his eyes. Then the distant beating of wings interrupted the serenity and he opened them again. Through the gaps in the canopy, he could only see blue sky.

"Hey, uh…did you guys hear that?" Sparx asked uncertainly, sitting up slowly. Lulu glanced at him and Nadi shifted under them.

"Hear what?" dragon and dragonfly asked at the same time. Sparx shushed them and listened hard. The distant beating of wings continued, growing closer with every passing second. His eyes narrowed.

"How about now?"

"Wings," Nadi muttered, raising his head slowly as to not jostle the two dragonflies perched in front of his horns. Lulu looked up towards the sky.

"I hear it too," she said.

Removing his arm from her shoulders, Sparx hovered up and looked towards the sound. Glancing towards him, Nadi noticed the uncertain hope on the dragonfly's face. Sparx shielded his eyes from the sun's glare with a hand, but the other remained clenched tensely at his side.

"That had better be who I think it is," he said as the wing beats grew closer. Nadi didn't need to ask to know who the dragonfly was thinking of—he hoped it was, too.

"Wanna check?" the wind dragon suggested with a wry grin. Sparx glanced back at him.

"As long as it's not something horrible." He grimaced. "It's always something horrible, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, Sparx nodded and flew up towards the canopy, leaving a nervous Lulu waiting below. Nadi leapt after him, beating his wings strongly to take him up and above the canopy of mushroom trees. Within minutes, both dragon and dragonfly had broken above the tops of the trees into the open skies. They twisted around to see where the noise was coming from and a grin split Sparx's face when he saw them—a whole gang of dragons. Very familiar dragons.

"Woo! Spyro!" he yelled to the purple dragon out in front, pumping a fist in the air. "'Bout time!"

Nadi just smiled.

Orpheus squinted along the length of his sword-staff and the new glittering green gem embedded into it. It had taken him a while—a few days in fact—to modify his staff for the spirit gem to fit. But now, at last, he was happy with it. Now all that was left was to test it. Digging one sword-tip into the ground, Orpheus used the staff as leverage to pull himself to his feet and hefted the weapon in his paws.

"Finally finished it, huh?" said a drawling voice, and the young panther spun around to find his brother sitting lazily on the ground, back rested against a large rock. Erebos grinned almost tauntingly, deep purple eyes glimmering. "Why didn't you just pick one of the other weapons? Why waste all that time just to modify your staff?"

"It wasn't a waste," Orpheus replied defensively, his paw tightening around the staff. "There were no weapons like my sword-staff and I wasn't about to just replace it. I've had this weapon for four years now. It just feels…right."

Erebos shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing with a paw lazily, "Suit yourself. So, know how to use it?"

The younger panther hesitated, gazing down at his modified weapon warily, "Well…not really. But I'll learn."

"Better learn fast," Erebos warned with a wry smirk. "It's only a matter of days before we march against Warfang again. Don't want to be stuck with a weapon you can't use, now do you?"

Orpheus scowled and turned away from his brother, bristling with annoyance. He suddenly found himself determined to prove to Erebos that he could handle his new sword-staff and handle it well. Gripping the staff in one paw, he took a step forward and cut through the air, as though slicing through an imaginary foe. He focused all his attention on the green spirit gem and almost dropped the staff when he felt a powerful force rush through his paws.

A jagged crevice of rock opened up in front of him, slicing through the tall grass, stalagmites shooting upwards from the previously soft earth. Orpheus cried out in shock and stepped backwards, but the damage was done. Not far in front, almost hidden in the darkness of dusk, a panther cried out in alarm and barely dodged the spikes of stone that thrust out of the earth. Scrambling to his feet, he turned furious eyes on Orpheus.

"Watch where you're aiming, you idiot!" he yelled furiously and Orpheus opened his mouth to call an apology. But Erebos placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

"You're not seriously going to apologise, are you?" the taller panther grunted, as though he had read his younger brother's thoughts. "It's his fault for getting in your way."

Frowning, Orpheus opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off again by another voice. The friend of the panther that had almost been injured by the earth strike had suddenly appeared on the scene.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed to his angry friend, grabbing him by the shoulder. "That's one of the Elite Guard! You can't go mouthing off to one of them!"

The other panther faltered, fear briefly flickering across his eyes, "Oh…crap. I didn't notice."

His friend snorted and pulled him away, "Come on, idiot." Glancing over his shoulder, he called an apology to Orpheus and Erebos and moved on. Orpheus stared after them, feeling suddenly worse than before. Shouldn't he have been the one apologising? He was the one who had grown careless with his weapon and almost injured a fellow panther. It was his fault, not…

"The Elite Guard don't apologise," Erebos muttered, slapping him on the shoulder companionably. "Remember, you're always in the right, no matter what."

"But that isn't right," Orpheus argued, frowning as he turned around and brushed his brother's paw off his shoulder. "It was my fault. He had every right to be there, I was the one who got careless. Why should we be treated with special privileges just because we're from the Elite Guard?"

"Because everyone's scared of us," Erebos explained, in a voice that suggested Orpheus should have already known that. "No one wants to argue with an Elite Guard and no one's stupid enough to do so."

"But why?" Orpheus insisted. "Why should they fear us? We're no different from the other warriors…are we?"

"Earth to Orpheus," Erebos waved his paw in front of his brother's face, only succeeding in irritating him. "Did you forget what it means to be an Elite Guard? It's their job to fear us. We're meant to be feared. We're fast, we're strong, we're emotionless, we're deadly, and damn are we good at what we do! Did you forget what they call us? The assassins?"

"But…!"

"No buts!" Erebos grabbed his brother's shoulders, his eyes suddenly dangerously steely. "If you weren't my brother, I'd have beaten some sense into you ages ago. We are Elite Guard and you need to start acting like it. Stop playing the nice guy and get it into that thick skull of yours that we're meant—to—be—feared! You might have the physical skill needed to be one of us, Orpheus, but that's going to mean nothing if you don't have the mind of an assassin."

He tapped Orpheus's head sharply and released him, dark eyes flashing. "Remember that. It might just save your hide one day."

Without another word, Erebos turned and strode away from his stunned brother, where he was soon welcomed into a group of panthers chatting around a campfire. After a moment in which he just stood in silence and took in his brother's words, Orpheus scowled and turned away, muttering under his breath. He found a seat on a relatively flat rock and sat for a few minutes, glaring out over the grasslands, his sword-staff across his lap. The sound of laughter from the panthers around the campfire disturbed his silence and suddenly he felt horribly alone.

Sighing, the young panther slipped off his seat and rose to his feet, walking away and hoping to block out the sound of his brother and his friends. He knew it was envy that was eating away at his innards, but there was something else there too. It took a moment for him to place what it was. Uncertainty. It churned his stomach and made him restless.

Striding through the grasslands, Orpheus couldn't help but notice that the other panthers purposefully looked away whenever he drew near. Some of them glanced at him with interest, until they recognised him and looked away. It was painfully clear that no one wanted to talk with him. They didn't even seem to want his company, and that sent a bitter pang through his chest. Eventually, his steps took him away from where most of the panthers lingered and towards the makeshift Dreadwing nests. He could see Skulk and Skelos sitting together with one of the Dreadwings, no doubt discussing plans in the waning light.

With a sigh, Orpheus sat down on a shallow rock and rested his chin in his paws. Life sure was lonely for an Elite Guard, he mused. Or maybe that was just him.

"Orpheus?"

The young panther looked up sharply at the welcome sound of a voice calling his name. At first he thought no one was there and his eyes raked the grasslands for the sight of whoever had called him. Then his gaze settled on a lone panther sitting not far away on a cropping of stone, a small campfire at his feet. Silt waved him over wordlessly and Orpheus didn't argue.

When Orpheus had settled down on a rock opposite his fellow Elite, Silt spoke up.

"You seemed like you had something bothering you."

Orpheus uttered a short sigh and rested his cheek on his hand, "What gave it away?"

Silt raised an eyebrow, looking up from his sword, which he had been polishing with a rag. "I'm not a fool, Orpheus."

The young panther averted his eyes and silence reigned for several moments, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Orpheus found himself wishing bitterly for a distraction, but none came. At length, it was Silt who broke the silence.

"An assassin can't afford to allow himself to be bothered by anything, let alone remain as such for any length of time."

That did little to lift Orpheus's mood. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. His voice was heavy with bitter sarcasm when he spoke. "Because we're supposed to be feared, right?"

Silt looked up from his sword again, an almost-amused twinkle in his orange eyes, "Did Rebus tell you that?"

Orpheus's silence was answer enough. The older Elite set his sword aside and leaned forward, closer to the flames and Orpheus on the other side of them. The firelight reflected in the alarming hue of his irises made them look like they were on fire themselves.

"Do you know why the masters chose you to become one of the Elite Guard?"

Orpheus shrugged reluctantly, frowning, "Because…they thought I was a good fighter."

Silt nodded, "They were impressed with your physical skills, yes. But they would not have given you this opportunity if they did not believe you capable of adopting the state of mind of an Elite."

"Which is…?"

Silt smirked and sat back, "Your brother was partly right when he said that the Elite Guard is meant to be feared. As Elites we demand respect. And how better to gain that than by making a name for yourself? A name feared by those lower than you, weaker than you. We are the best of the best and it is our job to ensure the common warriors are aware of that. As such, many of them fear us, and so they show us respect."

"But I don't want to be feared," Orpheus insisted, sounding strained. "I miss having friends, I miss feeling like I fit in. …I miss not being looked at like I'm some sort of outsider."

Silt's eyes were stern, but largely emotionless, "You are an Elite, Orpheus. And Elites trust no one but themselves and their fellow Elites. We do not have time for trifles such as friends. Friends make us weak, and we cannot afford to be weak."

"But what about Erebos?!" Orpheus exclaimed, a sudden envious anger rising from within. "He's always joking with those stupid friends of his! What makes him an exception to that rule?!"

The ghost of a smile tweaked Silt's mouth, "Rebus is…an interesting case. He is a smart panther, smarter than most. He knows that the strongest weapons one can have are allies that are willing to die for you. He commands respect both with fear and by being likable. He makes sure they know he is the strongest and therefore the one they should be allied with. Rebus gives those panthers the illusion of friendship and in turn they go out of their way to show respect to him. In doing so, they prove that they are willing to die for him. But the loyalty he shows to them is a ruse. They are his pawns, his willing shields. They are not friends. Not of the sort you know."

Orpheus slumped slightly with a snort, glaring into the dancing flames. "I always knew he was a jerk. What about the other Elites?"

Silt glanced away from the fire shortly and Orpheus followed his gaze to a lone panther sitting cross-legged on a flat stone. His sword was laid out beside him and his eyes were closed. None dared to approach.

"Agra is the oldest of the Elites and therefore the most experienced," Silt explained softly. "He knows how to detach himself from the world, to discard emotions when he must. He is respected for his age and his skill, and no one dares to dispute that. But he is a loner, as most Elites are, and rarely speaks to anyone unless the situation demands it. Agra is what all Elites should strive to become. He is the perfect assassin, in mind as well as body."

"Steel and Nyx are…slightly different," Silt frowned, and for a moment Orpheus even thought he looked disturbed. But seconds later it was gone and he passed it off as a trick of the firelight. "They find company in each other and are closer than any Elite I have seen before. Unlike Agra, they do not detach themselves from the world or discard emotions. Instead, they derive enjoyment from being feared and doing their duty as assassins. They live for the kill and find nothing more satisfying than to be feared by all those they consider below them. The common warriors are wise to avoid them."

Orpheus grimaced at those words, feeling strangely sickened by the thought of enjoying the kill. Although in the heat of battle he often found himself caught up in the fight and had killed before, there was still a part of him that felt guilty and disgusted by the blood on his hands. The aftermath of battle was always the worst. A part of him envied Agra for his ability to switch off his emotions.

After another moment of silence, Orpheus leant forward and stared into Silt's fiery eyes. "And…what about you?"

Silt met his eyes with a steely gaze, "I know what it means to be an Elite. I know that I cannot afford to be weakened by friendship, I know I can trust no one but myself, and I know I cannot afford to doubt myself. No Elite can. And that includes you, Orpheus. Second thoughts have no place in the mind of an assassin. You need to accept that."

"The masters chose you for your physical skill. Now you need to prove to them that you have the mental ability to be an assassin, too. Otherwise, you will only make life harder for yourself."

With those final words, Silt returned to polishing his blade and left Orpheus to absorb his words in silence. The young panther stared into the spitting flames, feeling worse than ever before. Though a part of him had always known what it was like to be an Elite, it was only now that he was starting to understand what it meant. And it caused a cold feeling of dread and uncertainty somewhere deep inside that he could not shift.

What if he couldn't adopt the mind of an assassin?

What if he didn't want to be an Elite?

Spyro's tale didn't take long to tell, though Sparx suspected that was because he hadn't told them the whole story. In fact, Sparx felt like there were some very large gaps—some very important details—that his brother was neglecting to mention. All he'd managed to gather from Spyro's retelling were two facts: they weren't going back to Warfang, and they were going to find some freaky goat-people who could help. Help with what? He wondered if Spyro had misheard, and the spooky moon dragon had actually meant 'llama-people'. Though what help the citizens of Tall Plains could offer was beyond him.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling us something?" Sparx asked suspiciously, jabbing a finger at Spyro's snout. Behind him, his parents exchanged nervous glances as though worried their two sons were about to start an argument.

Spyro stared innocently into Sparx's accusing eyes, "I've told you everything you need to know, Sparx. Why would I keep secrets from you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Sparx retorted, crossing his arms and looking miffed. Spyro sighed.

"Look, we can talk about the small details later," he said, eyes roving inconspicuously over his worried dragonfly parents and the curious-eyed Nadi. "But right now we should get going. We've got a long way to go and not much time to get there. It's best if we leave immediately."

"So soon?!" Nina exclaimed, flying forwards. Spyro cringed at the unmistakable disappointment on her face. "But you've had such a long flight! Surely you can spare a night to rest here?"

Spyro glanced towards his friends, and Cynder inclined her head hesitantly, "It wouldn't hurt, Spyro."

But, biting his lip, the purple dragon shook his head, "I wish we could, but…I'm worried. The sooner we move out, the sooner we get there."

'And the sooner we can get back to Warfang and help the others…'

"I don't like it," Flash admitted, hovering to Nina's side and looking over the dragons with a stern eye. "But if Spyro thinks it is the right thing to do, we can't hold you back. He is not the child who left this swamp four years ago."

The last part of his speech was directed at Nina. She twisted her hands anxiously and for the first time Spyro saw something in her that he had never seen before—the reluctance of a mother to let her child go. It was a bittersweet warmth that bloomed in his heart in that moment.

"But he is still my child," she whispered gently. "They both are. And I will still worry about them."

"Don't worry, Mum," Sparx said lazily, slinging an arm around her frail shoulders, "I'll take care of chunky here. You've got nothing to worry about as long as I'm around."

"Cocky as usual," Cynder smirked. She stood up and inclined her head respectfully towards the elder dragonflies. "Don't worry, Mrs. Nina, we'll take care of your sons. Both of them. And I'm sure Sparx will keep us all out of trouble…"

She turned a malicious smile on the yellow dragonfly, who didn't miss the undertone of sarcasm in her voice. He pulled a face in return and Cynder's grin only widened.

"W-Wait a minute," a voice stammered and all eyes turned on Nadi. The bronze dragon looked from the dragonflies to Cynder and finally settled on Spyro, incredulity written across his face. "You mean you're not going back to the Dragon City?"

Silence reigned, but only for a moment.

"That's…what we've been saying," Spyro said uncertainly, eying Nadi carefully. He didn't just look incredulous, he looked worried. Before he had a chance to enquire, though, Kazan beat him to it.

"Come to think of it, why are you still here anyway?" the crimson dragon asked suspiciously.

For a moment, Nadi seemed taken aback. His eyes flicked to Sparx, perhaps searching for support, but the dragonfly didn't react. Throat bobbing nervously, the bronze dragon spoke in a halting voice, "I was…waiting for you. All of you. I thought…"

He trailed off nervously, head swinging to and fro from the distrusting eyes of Kazan to the curious and somewhat bemused eyes of Spyro. "I wanted to go back to Warfang with you."

"Why?" Kazan shot back without missing a beat, before anyone else had a chance to even open their mouths. Nadi hesitated, thrown off, and Kazan continued. "Why not just go back yourself? Why wait for us?"

"Um…"

"Ooh! Ooh! I know this one!" Sparx interrupted eagerly, waving a hand in the air. The dragons turned surprised gazes on him, and he folded his arms with a knowing smirk on his face.

"This guy," Sparx said, flying over to Nadi and pointing a tiny finger at his muzzle, "is a scaredy-dragon."

"Sparx!" Nina hissed disapprovingly.

"What?! He is! He told me himself he was too scared to go back to Warfang because of the big mean dragons. Go on, Nadi, tell 'em!"

"Is he telling the truth?" Spyro asked, ignoring Sparx's indignant huff.

"Sparx is known for exaggerating and making things up," Cynder added, rolling her eyes.

"I do not make things up! Or exaggerate! …Maybe a little."

Nadi shook his head with a half-hearted smile, "Even if he does, he's telling the truth this time. I'm…not comfortable around large crowds, especially strangers. I just…didn't want to go there alone."

Cynder's expression softened and she nodded slowly, "I can understand that, but I'm afraid we're not going back to Warfang now. I'm sorry we can't help after making you wait for so long. ...Spyro?"

The purple dragon shook his head, "We can't afford even the slightest detour back to Warfang. I'm sorry about this. You're just going to have to make your way there yourself or stay here until we return. I…I'm not sure when we'll come back, though…"

'Or even if.'

Nadi's shoulders drooped, but the look in his eyes made Spyro wonder if he had been expecting such an answer. "I understand. I am sorry for causing you trouble."

"No, no, it's no trouble," Spyro said quickly, looking embarrassed. "If anything, it's our fault for not returning sooner."

"I wish we could help you," Cynder insisted, eying him with an apologetic expression dusted with pity. "Really."

"Well maybe we can!" a voice behind them insisted, and they turned just as Saffron pushed her way between Spyro and Cynder to face Nadi. His crimson eyes met hers for a few moments, and in that instant it seemed as though Saffron was trying to read him—to figure him out. Then her gaze switched abruptly to Spyro.

"What?" Spyro stammered, bemused.

"He could come with us," was Saffron's decisive response.

"What?!" yelped four voices in varying levels of surprise. Nadi had never sounded more shocked. Spyro and Cynder just seemed bemused. Kazan sounded furious.

Everyone else remained silent and for several heartbeats it remained that way, with only the sound of the wind whistling through the canopy to break their thoughts. At length, Saffron snorted and sat back on her haunches, looking Nadi over.

"Well, why not?" she asked. "He saved my life, he helped us fight off those Death Hounds, heck, he's a wind dragon. He can help us. And don't you need someone to teach you the wind element, Spyro? Now that Zephira is…"

She trailed off uncomfortably before shaking her head roughly, "Anyway, my point is that he could be a valuable ally. Why send him back to Warfang when he could come along with us! We need all the help we can get, right?"

Spyro opened his mouth to respond, but Kazan shouldered him aside looking irritable.

"We don't even know who he is!" the fire dragon growled, locking eyes with Saffron, who curled her lip in response. "How are we supposed to know he's trustworthy? You know how important our mission is! Taking him along will only jeopardise it!"

"He's a dragon!" Saffron argued hotly, surging to her feet. Both seemed to have forgotten that the very dragon in question was standing right beside them. "What's not to trust?"

"Malefor was a dragon too!"

A tense silence filled the clearing, preceded by Saffron's sharp intake of breath. Nadi stared at the arguing dragons in amazement, eyes wide. Beside him, Sparx was a picture of shock, mouth hanging open and one hand raised as though he had been about to make a point. Suddenly, Cynder shouldered Saffron aside and glared into Kazan's defiant eyes.

"That's going too far!" the black dragoness snarled, looking livid. "How dare you compare him—how dare you compare anyone to that…that monster! We may know nothing about him, but that gives you no excuse to accuse him of being like that demon! Malefor was a curse upon this world. Even…even the panthers are not as terrible as he was! I do not care who it is, I do not care for what reason, but if I ever hear you compare someone else to that monstrosity again, I will personally see to it that you never speak his name again!"

Kazan wilted under her furious gaze, all of the defiant anger suddenly gone from his face. "I…I…"

"Understand?" Cynder hissed with all the venom of a deadly serpent. Kazan nodded dumbly, not trusting himself to speak. The others stared in shock, until Spyro stepped forward and gently nudged Cynder away.

"He's learnt his lesson now," the purple dragon murmured soothingly so that only she could hear. "It's okay…"

Cynder snorted, a tendril of shadow curling from her nostrils, and tore up a clump of swampy earth with her talons. But she nodded, regardless of her anger, and looked pointedly away from the trembling dragon. It was some time before anyone else found their voices again.

"So…I…what I was trying to say is…" Kazan faltered and trailed off, his thread lost. He looked severely shaken, and Saffron noticed this with a twinge of satisfaction.

"Listen," Nadi interrupted suddenly, and everyone jumped at the sound of his voice, "I may not know any of you—I don't know where you're going, what you're doing or why—but if you think there's any way I can help, just tell me. I'd be glad to help, if you will let me. There isn't really anywhere else I can go. Only the Dragon City…"

Spyro sighed and exchanged a look with the still irritable Cynder, searching for her opinion. But she just shook her head, at as much of a loss as he was. Uncertain purple eyes turned on the bronze dragon. "Nadi…"

Saffron stood up abruptly and moved a few paces away, beckoning for Spyro to follow. The purple dragon seemed to realise he didn't have much of a choice and moved silently to her side. Nadi watched them curiously, wishing he knew what they were whispering about.

"You heard what Ignitus said," Saffron whispered, her head close to Spyro's, "the more allies we have, the better. And not only could he be helpful to us, but it wouldn't be fair to send him back to Warfang now! Maybe you don't realise, but that would mean sending a lone dragon to a city he knows nothing about, full of dragons who know nothing about him, in the middle of a war."

"I know," Spyro murmured back, shooting a glance over his shoulder, "but Kazan makes a fair point, even though he went a bit overboard. How do we know we can trust him?"

"Has he given us reason not to? Spyro, look at him! Listen to him! Doesn't he remind you of someone?" Her violet eyes were wide, staring into his almost pleadingly—begging him to see the similarities she had seen. Spyro chanced another glance behind him and saw Nadi look quickly away, as though embarrassed to be caught staring.

"You're thinking of Zephira, aren't you?" Spyro mumbled. Saffron nodded sharply.

"Just…the way he speaks, the way he moves, even. He's too shy even to go to Warfang by himself! He might not be Zephira, but I know his sort when I see it. We can trust him, I'm sure of it."

"Why, though? Why are you so eager to trust him?"

"I still owe him, you know," Saffron smiled almost apologetically. "I just want a chance to repay him. Why not just give him a chance?"

Spyro bit his lip, his face a mask of deep thought. In truth, unlike Kazan, he was not searching for a reason to distrust Nadi—he'd much rather have a reason to trust him. And already—Spyro realised—he had those reasons. It might not have been enough to award him complete trust, but it was a start. With a tight smile, Spyro nodded. Saffron's face broke into a grin.

"Nadi," the purple dragon announced, striding back to the wind dragon, "we've come to a decision."

"You have?" Cynder and Kazan asked at the same time, both surprised and somewhat distrusting. Spyro offered them an apologetic smile.

"If you want to come with us, we could use your help," he said, and quickly continued before Kazan's protests could interrupt him. "But these are dangerous times and it pays to be cautious. I'm sorry if this seems a bit over the top, but until you have earned it, I can't give you my complete trust. That's why I want someone with you at all times, at least until you have proven we can trust you."

Even Saffron seemed surprised.

"Is that…fair?" she asked hesitantly, only to be drowned out by Kazan's angry words.

"I can't believe you're going along with her! Trusting a complete stranger is stupid, especially given what the Chronicler wants us to do! Saffron only wants him to come because she thinks he can replace Zephira!"

"I do not!" Saffron argued indignantly, her voice reaching an unnaturally high pitch. Kazan whirled on her.

"Prove it, then! You said yourself that you want to go back to Warfang to get Zephira, but now that you know we can't, you decided to replace her with this guy instead! Well, he might be a wind dragon, but he's not Zephira, and you sure as heck shouldn't trust him so easily!"

"This has nothing to do with Zephira! How dare you accuse me of wanting to replace her? I only want what is best for all of us!"

"That's enough!" Cynder snapped, forcing herself between the two angry dragons before their argument could escalate. "No one wants to replace anyone. Kazan, I expect better of you—you shouldn't accuse your friends of such things. And Saffron, you need to stop letting him get under your scales! But you shouldn't hand out your trust so easily, either."

Saffron bristled with indignation, but chose not to say anything. Kazan just made a face at her behind Cynder's back and she replied by childishly sticking out her tongue. Sparx snickered at the looks on their faces, but quickly stuffed his fist in his mouth when they both turned to glare at him. Cynder, meanwhile, had turned her attention to Spyro.

"So…you think he should come along?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow and glancing from him to Nadi. The bronze dragon shifted nervously.

"Saffron made a good point," Spyro shrugged, smiling at Nadi. "The more allies we have, the better our chances; just like the Chronicler said. We should at least give him a chance to earn our trust."

"Seems like he already has Saffron's," Cynder whispered close to his head, her eyes flicking over to the yellow dragoness, who was still trading ridiculous faces with Kazan. Sparx was hovering about them, tittering to himself. Spyro just shrugged.

"Alright," Cynder announced, straightening up and looking Nadi in the eye, "looks like you're coming along with us. Unless, of course, you'd rather go to Warfang on your own."

"No, no!" Nadi insisted quickly, his cheeks tinged red. "I-I'll come with you. Thank you for giving me the chance. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Cynder looked him over with a scrutinising gaze, "Good. But I would advise against giving any of us a reason to mistrust you. We are most certainly not helpless."

"Was that a threat?" Sparx hissed to Saffron, loud enough for everyone in the clearing to hear.

Cynder rolled her eyes. "It was a warning. And I am sure he will heed it. Won't you?"

Nadi nodded quickly. Behind the others, Flame leaned over to Ember and muttered in her ear, "He seems almost too genuine."

"It's called being polite," Ember shot back, slapping his flank with her tailblade, "something I'm sure you wouldn't understand."

"I can be polite! ...When I want to."

"Shame you never want to, then, isn't it?"

"So, we've picked up another lost puppy," Zannak said, grinning. "'The more the merrier,' so they say. What do you think?"

He nudged Roku companionably, but the black dragon merely stared ahead impassively. "It is an interesting development. Perhaps things will be livelier with him along."

"Anything's livelier than you," Zannak dead-panned, standing up without another word and plodding over to his sister. He didn't hear Roku's sigh.

"So, time to get going?" Sparx suggested, looking eager for once in his life. Spyro seemed surprised.

"That's unlike you."

"Yeah, usually you complain about leaving," Cynder added, eyes twinkling mischievously. Sparx folded his arms over his chest and glared.

"You try spending a week with fangirls, then we'll talk."

Amidst the peals of laughter from Saffron and Cynder, and the chuckles of Spyro, Flash and Nina flew forwards with something hanging between them, clutched tightly in their tiny hands. Curious, Spyro stopped laughing at the look on Sparx's face and craned his neck to see what his foster parents had brought him. Upon close inspection he realised it was a bag, woven from tough swamp reeds and strips of bark. It was about twice as big as one of his paws.

"The whole village chipped in to make this for you," Nina told him as she and Flash laid the bag down between Spyro's forepaws. Their shoulders visibly drooped with relief as they dropped the weight. "A thank you for saving us from those dreadful hounds."

"Wow, Mum…I don't know what to say." Spyro examined the bag at his feet curiously, wondering how such tiny creatures could have woven a bag over twice their size. He decided not to ask. "Thank you."

"We just hope you like it," Nina smiled, stroking his snout gently.

"And I'm sorry we can't do anything more for you," Flash added, resting an arm around Nina's thin shoulders. But Spyro shook his head.

"You're my family. You have loved me and cared for me even though I wasn't truly your own." His eyes shone with gratitude as he smiled down at the dragonfly pair. "That's more than enough."

Without another word, the two dragonflies flew forward and embraced their adopted son as best they could, hugging his snout with all their might. When they parted, Spyro was blinking furiously and wondering why his eyes felt so wet. Cynder looked on almost longingly, but Sparx was making disgusted faces behind her back.

"All right, all right, enough with the sappiness," he insisted, waving his tiny arms. "Geez, Mum, Dad…"

Without warning, Nina darted forward and embraced him, ignoring Sparx's protests as he was crushed against her chest. "Be strong, my brave boy, and take care of your brother. We love you both, very, very much."

"Mum…can't…breathe…"

Sparx inhaled dramatically when his mother finally let him go to wipe her streaming eyes. Massaging his ribs, he smiled sheepishly and said, "Don't worry, Mum, I'll bring him back home. Promise."

"Stay true to yourself, Son," Flash said, placing a hand on Sparx's shoulder. "We are proud of you."

A grateful smile found its way onto Sparx's face until Cynder hissed in his ear, "Who's being sappy now?"

"We put your little crystal in Spyro's bag," Nina interrupted suddenly in the middle of Sparx's retort. The yellow dragonfly looked up in surprise.

"Crystal? Oh, the one the fireflies gave us?"

"What?" Spyro asked, suddenly interested, but Sparx waved him away.

"Tell you later."

"Let's go then, come on!" Zannak interrupted, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning from ear to ear. Saffron extended a wing over his back in a feeble attempt to hold him still.

"How old are you again?" she muttered.

"They are a very lively bunch…" Nadi mumbled, more to himself than anyone. But Roku, who had just moved forwards to welcome the bronze dragon, heard him.

"They always are."

Days after Terra's untoward meeting with Zephira and Chasm, the panthers had still yet to make their move. Hunter had become less strict with them since the incident, and Terra wondered if—somehow—her unwillingness to fight Chasm had earned her his trust. Regardless of the reason, her newfound acceptance into the lives of the cheetahs made the burden on her shoulders feel that much lighter. However, in turn, that made the coming battle seem all the more threatening.

Now she felt like she had something more to lose.

One evening, Terra was sitting at her usual place by the window sill, engaging in still slightly-awkward conversation with Hunter, when Mari threw open the door and made them all jump. Cougar, who had been dozing beside the door, jumped to his feet and promptly tripped over his own paws, landing sprawled on the wooden floor with a quiet curse. Hunter's paw inched towards the sword at his hip, but Mari waved him down and shut the door in a more sedated manner.

"Oops," she said, grinning sheepishly as she looked at her downed cousin, "guess that was a bit much."

"Care to tell us why you came barging through the door like a hoard of grublins was on your tail?" Cougar grumbled, pushing himself back into a sitting position and nursing a wounded pride. Hunter and Terra relaxed now that it was apparent there was no immediate threat.

"I was just talking with Chios, and she gave me this," Mari said, holding up a rectangular-ish package in her paws. Closer inspection proved it was a rather tattered-looking wooden box, almost square but not quite, and about as long as her forearm. It was about as tall as the span of a large cheetah's hand, and the corners were chipped and rounded.

"What exactly is it?" Terra asked, sitting up straighter and looking interested.

Mari moved into the centre of a room, nudging a cushion under her with a foot, and sat down with the box in her lap. Shuffling over to her, Terra noticed there was an image engraved on the flat lid of the box—almost like a coat of arms. There were five symbols arranged in a circle that she was sure represented the five base elements, and a stylised engraving of a dragon's head in the very centre. Its eyes were set with tiny chips of emerald—at least, one of them was; the other was missing, though Terra suspected that hadn't always been the case. Scuff marks marred the surface of the wood, which she assumed had once been polished and smooth. It looked very old.

"It's a game," Mari explained, in a voice that suggested she didn't entirely know what she was talking about either. She ran a paw over the lid and the old engraving. "Chios told me young dragons used to play this game a lot…at least, before the war. A lot of the games were lost or misplaced during the war, so they're kind of hard to come across. She found this one in the library—we think it might have been dug out of the rubble back when they were repairing the city after the war."

"A dragon game?" Hunter asked, moving over to the girls to get a better look. "I didn't even know dragons played games."

"Here, look." Mari put the box on the floor in front of her and pried the lid open. Cougar shuffled over to look.

There were words engraved on the inside of the lid, though they were written in old draconian and none of the cats could read them. Inside the box were two tattered pouches that appeared to be made from deer skin, and under them was a wooden board of sorts. Mari plucked the pouches from the box, and they jangled as though filled with pieces of metal or chips of wood. Hunter, meanwhile, reached down to take the wooden board. He soon found that it opened on hinges into a much larger, semi-flat playing field—complete with fake mountains, rivers, trees and shrubs.

"A board game," Cougar said in mild surprised as Hunter laid the wooden playing field out on the floor. There was a blank space in the very centre of the board, as though something was missing, but otherwise it looked like a tiny replica of the Dragon Realms—or at least something similar to it.

"What's in the pouches?" Terra asked, leaning over to take one from Mari. It jangled at her touch and she found it was full of bronze medallions, each engraved with different symbols that reminded her of the elements.

"These are the counters," Mari added, emptying her pouch onto the floor. Tiny wooden replicas of dragons, cheetahs, moles and apes tumbled onto the floor, followed by a larger replica of what seemed to be a rocky mountain—complete with a tiny spirit gem at its peak. "Oh, that's what Chios meant…"

Without bothering to explain, Mari placed the miniature mountain in the empty space in the middle of the board. It fitted perfectly, and the others soon noticed the tiny moat that surrounded it. Cougar and Hunter settled down on cushions on the opposite side of the board.

"So…how do you play?" Cougar asked, leaning his cheek on his hand and propping his elbow up on his knee.

The keen-eyed Terra was the first to notice what they'd missed in the box. A very old piece of parchment was flattened at the very bottom, and the pantheress pulled it out extra carefully to make sure she didn't damage it. Luckily, unlike the words engraved on the box, the words on this piece of parchment were written in the more recent, universal language that both dragon and feline used frequently. Her eyes skimmed over the words curiously.

"Instructions," she announced, frowning. "It looks complicated."

"Chios explained some of it to me," Mari said, plucking the parchment from Terra's paws. "Let me see."

A minute passed in silence as the female cheetah looked over the rules, her brow creasing every now and then. Eventually she set it aside and looked up with a wide smile and bright eyes. "Why don't we just make it up as we go along?"

Cougar uttered a sound caught between a cough and a laugh, and Hunter smiled wryly. Terra stifled a laugh behind her paw. Mari made a face and insisted, "I got the gist of it!"

"Sure, sure," Cougar taunted, eyes twinkling teasingly.

"First thing we need to do is pick an element," Mari explained, ignoring her cousin. "You can have up to five players—one for each element—but you only need two to play. The element represents your team."

"Oh, oh, I choose fire!" Cougar insisted, grinning like a cub. Mari rolled her eyes at him. "What? Everyone knows fire is the coolest."

"Alright…Terra?"

"Earth," the pantheress said without missing a beat, and then blushed. "I was named for the earth, after all."

"I will choose electricity, because it is unpredictable and strikes as suddenly as an arrow from a bow." Hunter's eyes twinkled as he spoke, with an almost taunting confidence. Mari smiled brightly.

"And that leaves me with…ice," she said, before remembering the rarer, almost forgotten fifth element, "or wind. Nah, I'll go with ice."

"Then we choose our team," Mari continued, beginning to divide up the many, tiny wooden figures. "Everyone gets a certain number of each counter. Four dragons, four cheetahs, six moles, six apes. The objective is to get at least one of your dragons to the spirit gem mountain in the middle. If you meet other counters on the way, you engage in battle. The outcome is decided by flipping a medallion. Terra, you have them?"

"Oh, right." She handed Mari the pouch of medallions and watched her pull them out one by one. Each was engraved on one side by a symbol representing one of the five elements, but no two medallions were the same. Mari flipped the ice-fire medallion over in her paws.

"If the symbol that matches your team's element lands face-up, you win the battle and the losing counter is taken out of the game. Unless they're a dragon—dragons are only taken out if they lose three battles."

Scratching her head, she examined the piece of parchment again, despite her suggestion of making the rules up. Terra couldn't help but smile at the look of intense concentration on her face. At length, Mari looked up again and examined her counters.

"Each counter can do different things… dragons can fly if they land on a specially marked spot. You can move two apes at once, and they can leapfrog over other counters. Cheetahs can move up to three spaces at once. Moles can build and break down obstacles to hinder other counters. There are other things too, but they're a bit too confusing… Why don't we just start playing and see what happens?"

"Classic choice," Cougar grinned. "When in doubt, do it anyway. So, the aim is to get one dragon to the mountain before anyone else gets there? Easy peasy. I'm going to whip all of your butts."

"Don't be so sure, Cougar," Hunter said softly, a smile under his whiskers.

"Right!" Mari beamed, throwing the parchment aside again and looking eager. "Everyone knows I'm going to win!"

Terra laughed at the look on her face, and together they arranged their counters on opposite sides of the playing field. It wasn't quite square, but nor was it round—more like a cross between the two. Terra pondered for a moment what such a shape would be called, but soon the game began and such thoughts were all but thrust from her mind. They got off to a shaky start, unsure what all the rules were, but by the time the very last shred of light outside had disappeared and only the lamp hanging from the ceiling illuminated the playing field, the game was in full swing.

"Aha, my ape challenges your mole to a duel! …In real life, I think we all know who would win."

"Never underestimate the moles, Cougar."

"What, no! Aww…that was totally cheating."

"How can you cheat a medallion toss?"

"Um…my dragon landed on a marked space. What does that mean?"

"Oh, that means it can fly! Only for one turn, though. I think it can jump four spaces while it's flying…"

"Take that, Hunter! Your cheetahs will never get past my mole's expertly crafted wall!"

"You forget I also have moles, Cougar."

"…this game sucks."

Hours passed in this way, and before they knew it, the game had extended into the wee hours of the morning. Listening to the giggles of Mari as she watched Cougar lose yet another counter to one of Hunter's dragons, Terra thought she had never had more fun. It felt as though a balloon of happiness was swelling in her chest, and suddenly she had never felt gladder that she had taken the risk and left her old tribe. These cheetahs were more than just allies and acquaintances—they were her friends.

Sometime between midnight and dawn, Mari was yawning and threatening to fall asleep in the middle of a battle between one of her apes and Cougar's last dragon. Terra was curled up on her cushion, watching the proceedings with a sleepy eye. Hunter's dragon was the closest to the mountain, and she was certain he would win in a few more turns.

"Come oooooon, fire," Cougar chanted, drumming his fists on his knees nervously as Hunter tossed the medallion in the air. It spun slowly, watched by four sets of eyes, and descended towards the floor.

They never saw what it landed on.

A loud, alarming howl sliced through the silence of night, startling the cats so badly that three out of four jumped to their feet—Terra tried to, but tripped over her cushion and found herself back on the floor again. The medallion skittered across the ground, knocked by Cougar's foot, but it had been all but forgotten by the startled felines. The shriek of the war horn continued unbroken for several seconds, reverberating in their sensitive ears without mercy, prompting Mari to slap her paws over her ears.

Hunter raced for the window, hand on his sword, but even his keen eyes could see little through the cloak of night. Whirling around, he met the wide, frightened eyes of the others. Terra's heart was hammering madly against her ribcage, and it felt like her balloon of happiness had completely deflated.

"They wouldn't—in the middle of the night, they wouldn't," Hunter insisted desperately, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else. Terra was suddenly on her feet.

"They would," she said in a hushed, terrified voice. The war horn continued uninterrupted in the night, and Cougar uttered a single word that summed up everyone's thoughts.

"Shit."