At the dragon temple, some of the doctors of the village were trying to find Amethyst, who hadn't been seen since the day before. What they didn't know is that she was still at Dawn's house. She hadn't even gotten up from his bed. She felt like a failure as a friend and as a nurse. This thought sent her into a deep state of depression and it drained her energy and motivation to even move.

She heard someone knocking on the door. She raised her head, "Who's there?"

A muffled voice came through the door, "It's me, Frost. Quickly, open the door! I need your help!"

Slightly reluctant, she sighed and got up out of the bed. "What is so important that he needs my help?"

She walked over to the door and pulled it open. Frost was standing directly in front of her and he looked exhausted. She said, "Ok, what is it that you need my-" She froze. There was blood dripping down his sides. Then she noticed the bleeding, black mass on his back. Her heart sank when she realized it was Dawn. She moved out of the way, "Put him on the bed!"

Frost bound over to the dragon's resting place and laid Dawn on its covers. The black dragon was unconscious and bleeding badly. She rushed over to his side and laid her paw down on his chest. She closed her eyes and started to heal him. But something was wrong. His wounds… they weren't healing. No matter how much energy she used, his wounds were still bleeding.

She began to grow anxious, "No… his injuries won't heal!"

Frost was also growing concerned, "Why aren't they healing?"

"I-I don't know. There's like… some kind of aura surrounding the wounds. And whatever this aura is made of, it's preventing his wounds from healing! I-I don't know what to do! My healing ability has never failed me up until now!" She looked around, "And I don't have any of my medical supplies with me!" Her paw wrapped around his, "I can't lose him, not again!"

"Neither can I." Both dragons glanced at the door. There was a shadowed figure in the doorway. It was a dragon wearing some kind of rugged cloak. He walked into the house, "Which is why I will help."

Amethyst asked, "Kyron, is that you?"

He chuckled, "No, I am done hiding behind that name. But that should not be your priority. You need to focus on helping Dawn. I will cleanse the dark aura around his wounds." The dragon raised his paw and a sphere of energy formed around the injured dragon, slightly levitating him above the bed. "And while it is being cleansed, Frost, you must head to Warfang. The wolves launched another invasion and the other candidates could use your help. Warfang isn't far from here. Amethyst and I will take it from here. Now go!" Frost nodded and sprinted out of the door.

Amethyst, while waiting for the cleansing process to complete, noticed the purple scales on the older dragon's arm. "You're a purple dragon aren't you?" He remained quiet. She continued, "Well, last time I checked, Malefor is dead and a thousand years hasn't passed yet since the last purple dragon was born. So you must be Spyro, right?"

The older dragon chuckled, "You young dragons are too smart for your own good. Yes, I am Spyro. But that is not important right now, the darkness is almost cleansed. Be prepared to heal him." The sphere-like energy dissipated and Dawn's body sunk back down onto the bed. Amethyst grabbed his paw and started healing him. This time, the wounds actually started to heal.

One of the lacerations on his chest closed up, but it scarred. Spyro noticed and asked, "Why are his wounds scarring? I thought you said your abilities healed the wounds."

"No, my abilities just speed up the process. Sadly, even if we would've let these injuries heal naturally, it would've scarred either way. But he would have died if we waited. It's better this way." Spyro just nodded and continued watching.

It didn't take long before her energy was completely expended and she couldn't continue healing him. Most of his injuries were successfully healed. He still had a broken arm and one of his horns was fractured, but that couldn't be healed. She sluggishly sat down at a table near the fireplace. She was exhausted and needed rest. But before she could even close her eyes, she noticed something about Dawn.

Spyro noticed, "Is something wrong, Amethyst?"

"Look at Dawn's tail. I think there's something wrong with it.

"How can you tell?"

She responded, "His tail has this unconscious habit of moving on its own whenever he is asleep."

Spyro, curious, pried, "How do you know that?"

She blushed, "No reason! It's just that… his tail hasn't moved since he came back. And that's worrying me." She got up and started putting pressure on his tail. There was no reaction from the black dragon. She began making her way up the tail until she made it to the base of his spine. When she applied pressure, Dawn screamed in pain and used just his front paws to push himself away from her claws. She also drew her paw back out of surprise. She mumbled, "No… it can't be."

Spyro, also concerned, asked, "What's wrong?"

"His spine is broken; even worse... I think he's paralyzed from the waist down."

Meanwhile

The tables were turning on the battleground. The wolves, after witnessing the death of two of their pack leaders, we're starting to grow fearful. Their attacks were coming off as less aggressive as the battle progressed. Quake and Bolt were also pushing back the wolves.

Lightning and earth were going everywhere as Ratha, still enraged, fought the ice wolf. She was dominating the injured alpha, melting every ice attack she threw at her. The wolf was growing desperate and tired. Her attacks were becoming weaker over time, and her movements were starting to slack. But Rathal's attacks weren't letting up.

Ratha swung her tail at the wolf. But the pack leader caught her tail in the mouth of her muzzle. She swung the dragon away and howled at the troops around them. Several wolves jumped into the fray. The alpha needed room to breathe and time to heal. She had hoped her wolves could keep the dragon away. But she was wrong. All the wolves, snarling and chomping at the bit, charged against the dragoness. They didn't realize that during the fight, she had built up a large amount of elemental energy.

Another aura of fire began to form around her scales. The ice wolf noticed and let out a plea, "No! Brothers, stop your attack!" She was too late and the wolves bared down on Ratha. The fire dragoness let out a thunderous roar as her elemental energy peaked and burst out, sending a wall of white-hot flames spewing outwards. Anything within her vicinity disintegrated like they just evaporated into the air. The ice wolf just stared at her in horror. And Ratha responded with an intense gaze. She began to saunter towards the wolf, knowing that she had won. The wolf just stood there dumbfounded as the dragon just killed seven wolves in an instant.

Ratha spoke, "Are you ready to die now, you primitive monster?" The wolf, using her ice sword, got to her feet.

Defiant, she declared, "Not by your hand!" She held her blade up and plunged it deep into her own stomach. She smirked and said, "Enjoy your… brother's funeral, and may you choke on his blood!" Ratha didn't wait for the wolf to bleed out. She stabbed her through her jaw, skewering her brain.

She spoke with a monotone voice, "You first." She pulled out her stinger and walked away, knocking the body over with her tail as she whipped around. She refocused her efforts on the final pack leader, Grimm. He hadn't recovered from their previous encounter and he was trying to crawl over to his sword. He didn't notice that his army was retreating and they were leaving him behind. He stretched out his paw to grab the sword when Ratha's stinger impaled it.

He screamed in pain, letting out an agonized howl. She silenced him quickly by grabbing the back of his head and burying his face into the ground.

She growled in his ear, "I killed your friend. Now it's your turn to pay for what you did you b*stard!" She pulled her stinger out of his hand. She let out a stream of flames and engulfed her stinger. Then, she scraped her inflamed stinger across his back, leaving a path of charred fur and skin in its wake. She didn't want to kill him yet, just make him suffer for everyone he has hurt. She let go of his face, allowing him to breathe. She kicked him over and raised her stinger.

He just looked at her, "Well, what are you waiting for? I failed my pack and I failed my family. There will be consequences if I return empty-handed. So just end it!"

"As if I needed to be convinced!" Her tail was shaking anxiously, "This… is for Rathal!"

Someone yelled, "Stop!"

Ratha froze and turned towards the direction of the voice. "Don't get in my way or I'll kill…!" She paused. She was surprised to see that it was Frost. "Frost? Why are you stopping me?"

"Because vengeance will not serve any purpose. Killing him will do nothing but exasperate the conditions of this war between us and the wolves." Frost tread slowly toward her.

Ratha began to grow frustrated, "What do you know of revenge? He killed my brother! You do not know my pain!"

Frost snapped, "I know your pain better than anyone else! Both of my parents died and I watched helplessly as my mother was killed right in front of me! And when I tried to get my revenge on the son of a b*tch that killed them, more people got hurt! Killing him will give the realm no peace and give you no satisfaction because killing him will not bring your brother back!"

Frost reached her and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Please! You helped me when my father died now let me help you!"

The fire dragoness took a moment before bringing her snout inches away from Grimm's muzzle. "If you dare try to invade Warfang again, I'll skip the torture next time. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind!"

The wolf steadily got up and took off on all fours, ending the invasion of Warfang with another failure.

Ratha turned to face Frost. Her scales turned back into their usual pink and her eyes turned back to light blue. Her anger melted into grief as she hung her head low. It was finally sinking in that her brother was dead. The last of her family had left her.

Frost, recognizing her sadness, tried to comfort her, "I know how you feel. But there was something that Kyron had told me when I was training under him. It was something one of his teachers told him. He said that 'when a dragon dies, he does not truly leave this world. His spirit lives on, binding itself with nature, offering hope for the future'. Rathal is not gone, he's just taken on a new form. He'll always be right with you, every step of the-"

Without warning, Ratha hugged Frost, catching him off guard. She couldn't hold it anymore and was letting all out. She started sobbing into his shoulder. He blushed a little, but he wrapped his wing around her to comfort the weeping dragoness.

He sat there with her for ten minutes, allowing her to vent her grief. Quake and Bolt were going to speak to them, but they didn't want to interrupt the moment; so they just continued cleaning up all the bodies.

But when they got to Rathal, Frost interrupted them, "Don't! I'll grab him when we're done." Though confused, the two dragons nodded and skipped Rathal.

The ice dragon lowered his head and whispered, "Do you feel any better?"

Ratha nodded.

"Good, then let's get back to Warfang. We can't sit here on this blood covered battleground any longer. I'll go and grab Rathal and then we'll leave." Both dragons let go of the embrace and Frost got up. He walked over to the deceased body of Rathal. He hoisted him up on his back and froze his front paws in place on his shoulders. Ratha joined him and they both began their long walk back to the city.