(Chapter beta-read by Riverstyxx)
(Fused 1.1 continued) (Feat; Toko, Ukelele, AbZ)
Over the past couple of weeks, Ripto had been given pieces of background information on the dragon that now had a leash on his brain. He wasn't sure how much of it was true, though, given that Malefor was very rarely in anything approaching what one might call 'a right state of mind.' Having to play nursemaid to such a powerful creature had not helped his disposition, nor had the fact that, since Malefor didn't truly sleep, Ripto had been forced to stay awake for just as long. At this point, nearly the only thing that was keeping him going was Malefor's magic, tying him ever closer to the beast that he despised.
The closest Malefor ever got to sleeping was when his eyes would half-close and, more often than not, he'd start humming the tune of a serene and peaceful song, perhaps a lullaby that he had heard as a whelp and couldn't fully remember. Not that Ripto really cared, except for the annoying fact that it also dashed his closest chance to sleep. Not to mention that, when he 'woke up,' things would probably not be pretty.
Had Ripto been able to see into Malefor's admittedly addled mind and make sense of it—no small task—he might have better understood the dragon's agitation.
A slender pale-purple silhouette meandered onto the stage of a large empty theater. He recognized this place; it was a concert hall his warden would take him to whenever he managed a streak of 'good behavior.' Here, he could enjoy fantastical stories that distracted from the reality of his prison-like existence. It was here that he had first heard the song that continued to strike him with romantic nostalgia and nauseating horror.
"This was a triumph. I'm making a note here: huge success..."
Malefor recognized the voice; it belonged to the 'Administrator' and 'Head Scientist,' the one the others called the 'Great Sea Dragon.' He had once called her 'Mother.' By the time he had been enrolled as a test subject, Malefor had had other names for her, but saying those usually resulted in extra 'Enrichment Time.'
"We do what we must because we can," the voice continued.
Malefor felt his fury rise and searched the orchestra pit for the offending musicians. To his extreme aggravation, the music got louder and there were no instruments to be seen. He did his best to cover his ears, but the song chose to sound out of his arms instead.
As soon as Malefor raised his arms, he crumpled to the floor as if his muscles had turned to gelatine. Slowly, and in unholy terror, he was raised up like a limp marionette and placed on top of an operating table. There, his head was pulled up so he could clearly gawk at the masked, sterile serpent in scrubs who stood before him. The surgeon's lips moved in sync with the lyrics, yet all Malefor could hear by now was the contralto of the mother figure he had rejected.
"...till alive. And believe me I'm still alive. ...Still alive."
Brandishing scalpels and syringes between each of his claws, the stoic specialist ignored cries of pain as he tore Malefor's flesh to ribbons, inserting a dubious liquid into the gouges he carved into his victim's body.
Suddenly, and without warning, the theater and the surgeon disappeared in a blinding light, leaving Malefor floating in a black void. As he prayed that this would be the end of his restless vision, a flickering light sporadically illuminated his surroundings. On the other side of the corridor, he could see a gallery of giant vials containing specimens that ranged from single body-parts to undeveloped fetuses. One of the tanks caught his eye, for there, suspended in the mysterious solution, were his wings, shrivelling up as they absorbed the liquid.
Thrashing his neck backward to confirm the absence of his aerial appendages, he instinctively opened his mouth to scream. All that came out was a strangled gurgle as he inhaled the fluid and, upon drowning, finally escaped his feverish vision.
Malefor's eyes snapped open, his vision unfocused. As everything slowly returned to clarity, his gaze darted every which way, checking his surroundings. Finally, he pointed both of his abnormally large pupils at the filthy window to his side. Night time.
It was extremely difficult for him to regain his bearings on a daily cycle, even after a month, considering that there had been no progression of day within his spork prison. Shuddering at this thought, Malefor glanced at his friend and caretaker. Ripto was also awake, a firm scowl planted on his face.
"Are you ever going to sleep?" he complained to his captor. "As much as I'd like to, I sort of can't because you insist on keeping my mind under your claw, even when you're nodding off and singing that stupid song."
"Please forgive me. Maybe we could arrange time for you to rest. I am incapable of sleep."
"Yeah, I noticed."
At this moment, Malefor clutched at a rotten apple from the stash Ripto had accumulated for him and requested comfort. "Ripto, read to me."
Groaning, Ripto retrieved a book from the small library he had been forced to build up due to Malefor's interest in the history of the Dragon Realms. From what he could tell, Malefor had never been taught to read and wanted to catch up on current events. Grabbing a slightly out-of-date newspaper, Ripto read to him an article.
"Disaster at the Central Park. On Tuesday, June 11, a field of lava inexplicably invaded the courtyard at the northern sector. All witnesses could not discern a culprit or a cause, and all tests that checked for magic signatures yielded nothing beyond normal background noise. Police are still investigating, but there have been no breakthroughs so far." Ripto looked toward Malefor, who had stopped chewing the overly slimy fruit.
After a moment of silence, Malefor swallowed his meal with an audible gulp, without so much as a gag. "Explainable."
Ripto raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"This incident is explainable. This happened recently?"
"Yeah, though it's kind of stale news, seeing as it happened about a few weeks ago. Why do you ask?"
"We will go to this park. Now."
By now, Ripto had learned not to argue lest his mind be twisted to Malefor's command. "Fine. Crazy hag."
Malefor ignored this slight. Friendship did not come easily, and forcing someone to say, "I'm your friend," just wasn't the same as hearing it from their own willpower.
Donning his black cloak, Ripto stuffed his wand in the inner pocket and climbed out the open window. "Come on, let's get it over with, and don't think about camping there tonight. The police'll have a cow."
With that, Malefor snaked out of the window and quickly gained a hold on the ledge above it. Taking point, Ripto ambled up the wall, clambering over the edge of the roof at the end of his climb. Malefor didn't fall behind; thanks to his lengthy limbs, he was able to cover much distance in a single bound.
They stood in the moonlight as Ripto analyzed a suitable path to take across the rooftops. It was most likely the early hours of morning. Most civilians wouldn't be awake at this time—a blessing—but whatever Malefor wanted to do at the park, it would have to be quick. Ripto turned and motioned for him to follow.
Under their paws, concrete, air, shingles and wind flew by, their journey nostalgic of their first arrival to Ripto's shanty of an apartment. Bounding off structural springboards, the raptor and the dragon finally landed on the crown of the colonnade that shaded the park below. Using his cloak as a parachute, Ripto floated to the ground, while Malefor spiraled down the column and just as silently landed on the concrete floor.
"We have thirty minutes, tops. Most cops aren't awake at this time, but there'll be some crackpots still excited over the whole lava business, I bet."
"Understood. Alert me if anyone comes. I do not wish to be seen."
So, Ripto stood guard as Malefor commenced his investigation. Deep in his blackened heart, Malefor felt a primordial fear. If his hunch was correct, the Waterians had definitely survived in some form. The job he'd started would be incomplete and they may have spread further than ever.
Malefor pushed these horrifying thoughts to the side and let his element flow through his body. His eyes had a strong interior glow, though the slits of his pit-like pupils were still clearly visible. His ruined frills stood on end as he came across an area that reeked of a singularity made from Convexity. The dissonant, unpredictable frequencies that rang from the location where reality used to be infinitely curled into a single point caused Malefor to shrink back in horror.
Whoever had done this had most likely originated from a bloodline that led straight to the sea serpents: the abominations that had forced Convexity into his body and proceeded to incessantly extract biological samples from him in order to grant themselves dominion over the element. If they weren't extinct, then where could they have gone? Malefor needed more information; he had to find out what had become of his tormentors after he'd supposedly decimated them.
"I am finished for now. Ripto, we will investigate this further with information from the 'library' that you speak of. If my prediction is right, we are all in danger."
At this, Ripto stared at his capter, watching him pale increasingly despite his already sickly scale-color. He didn't think much of the incident; it was just desserts for the dragons, in his view. But if Malefor, the most potent being he knew of at the moment, was afraid of whatever he'd found here, then Ripto had to pay attention. It could be a bargaining chip in disguise, or it could be the end of all he knew.
Legend was tapping away at that piece of junk again. Under normal circumstances, Classic would have peeked over his shoulder to see what he was writing, but that usually resulted in a raised wing blocking his view. On top of that, Ember was visiting again for magic lessons. Apparently her father was a Magic Crafter, so she had some natural affinity when it came to the subject. For now, though, it was mostly going to be basic stuff to start her off, so no teleportation and the like. Lucky for Classic, he didn't have to worry about alarming his loop parents by teaching her, as Red had apparently taught him before summer break in this loop's universe. It actually did them both proud that their son was trying to retain what he'd learned.
Despite his parents' pride, it still irked Classic that everyone else and their mother was better at drawing runes than him.
"You know, I could give you drawing lessons if you want," Ember said in her most innocent voice.
Anyone else would have found her delivery of the offer adorable and well-intentioned. However, Classic knew all too well when she was trying to push his buttons. With a flat glance, he gave a solemn reply. "I have a command line, thank you very much. I'm only sticking to this stuff 'cause you're an absolute beginner."
Ember stuck her tongue out, giving a wink. "You sure? It'd only cost two gems a lesson. Usually it would be five, but I'll give you a discount since you really need it."
"Oh right, 'cause you're the master of drawing shapes in the air." At this, Classic couldn't resist having some fun, bowing mockingly at her. "All hail Princess Polygon!"
A well-hidden urge to giggle finally broke Ember's composure, and both dragons shared a bout of laughter. Legend, on the other paw, wasn't too pleased with the disturbance, as he was struggling to decide how to end his current paragraph. Before he could raise his voice, however, he was intercepted with an idea formed from his current understanding of his brother. When he was given a challenge, Classic would never hesitate to focus on a goal. If Legend could distract his twin and Ember, he would certainly be rewarded with a decent duration of silence.
As Legend scoured his small library for a specific book, Ember wiped a tear from her eye. It felt so good to be close to her hero, even if they weren't snuggling together like the lovebirds she had once imagined them to be. Classic was definitely a stubborn blockhead from what she had seen throughout the course of their friendship, but to her that was just another endearing quality. He may not have been—and might never be—ready for a deeper relationship, but their current status as friends was a great improvement from their previous game of 'cat-and-mouse.'
"Hey, Spy! Do you and Ember have a moment? I have a little...proposition for you two."
Classic and Ember glanced back at Legend, who was holding a spellbook in his claws.
"I bought this book a few weeks ago when I learned how to teleport. I never got around to reading it, though, since I had more than a few volumes of comics to get through. If you want, I can let you guys keep it. I think Ember would get the most use out of it, though, considering Spy's, you know, disability." He made sure to enunciate the last word for his brother.
Scoffing at this slight, Classic retorted, "Hand it over, Ro. Before you finish your shameless fan-fiction, Ember and I will be drawing the Draga Lisa, no sweat."
Legend didn't know what 'fan-fiction' was, nor the 'Draga Lisa,' but he did know what his brother and Ember were up to: trouble.
"I would ask what you two are doing," Legend said, not bothering to glance up from his current paragraph, "but your giggles are letting me know that, whatever it is, it won't end well."
"Ro, shut up!" Classic snapped back in a harsh whisper, his and Ember's heads hanging out of the window.
He retrieved another object to experiment with—a ceramic mug that had once resided on his desk—and handed it to Ember, who had recently cast a reflect spell on the pathway that went through the front yard. Some of the lighter objects had made it past the fence and they were aiming to get one of their projectiles across the street.
Before Ember let the container fly, her conscience sprang at her, pleading her not to go through with this. Under normal circumstances, she would have heeded it, but something about Classic egging her on made it hard for her to resist. Against her better judgment, she threw the cup to the cement below and it rebounded in a glorious arc. Both dragons cheered and high-pawed as its shadow sped over the opposing sidewalk, but their celebration was cut short by the sound of shattering glass.
"MY LEG!"
At this shout of pain, Classic almost shut the window on their necks in his haste. He and Ember hyperventilated in apprehension, while Legend looked up from his paper to glare at them. All he'd wanted was a respite from his brother's antics, and this was the result. One way or another, Classic always found a way to stir up trouble.
The concert hall again. Malefor decided that staying in the seating area would be the best bet to avoid triggering his personal demons, but he didn't have high hopes for a tranquil dream. Upon the stage, props were arranged in a pattern that he recognized as his room. His 'habitation module,' the warden would say, but damn it all, it was his room. There was the button to let visitors in, the window where he would peer out into the endless sea floor, and the chute where his food was spat out in an impeccable rhythm. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing he'd ever owned, more or less.
An adolescent earth dragon hid in a corner, his wings curiously absent. The only evidence of their presence were two fresh scars, bright red in contrast to his verdant scales. Knocks sounded from the door. The warden was back, and the dragon let a weak yet defiant puff of smoke out of his snout.
"Pete, open the door, would you kindly? We have more tests for you."
The green whelp knew that there were more trials for him to endure and that there was no point in refusing, but he made no move toward the button regardless. He couldn't lock the door from the inside, and he couldn't escape the cell to swim through miles of ocean. There was nothing to do, nothing more to see, other than the sea serpents and their foul experiments.
The door slid open to reveal a lithe creature that stood on just two of its legs. Its bleached skin glistened like slime and, in its webbed claws, it held a tablet and stylus. How it managed to twist its claws to do such a thing, the green whelp had no desire to know. What he did have a desire for was its head on a silver platter.
The sea serpent walked toward him and noticed the murderous intent in his eyes. "Please, don't be upset. You've had good behavior lately and, if you pass these next tests, we have a wonderful surprise for you."
At this, Pete snapped back. "Is it something I can use to put a dent through your skull?"
"Well, why would you want such a thing? You are contributing so much through your participation at the Waterian Research Facility. It would be a shame for you to regress to the ways of the simpletons and beasts on the surface."
Attempting to intimidate the serpent with a furious stare, Pete eventually gave up and grudgingly trudged from his only safe haven to the warden's side.
The transparent floor clinked under their paws as the duo walked past the rest of the habitation modules. This segment of the facility was meant for housing 'participants.' Pete was the only one of his kind, as far as he had seen. He saw other specimens weeping and muttering prayers for salvation from outside the observation panels. They didn't last long and it was normal to see a new face every other week.
He had often wondered why he had lasted so long in a place like this. For as long as he could remember, he had been a 'favorite' among the serpents. He was even allowed to interact with their young on 'Bring Your Spawn for Testing Day,' although it was horribly unnerving to hear the children discussing the latest implants and experiments. It was almost as if they were full-grown from the egg.
The warden interrupted Pete's ruminations as he tried to console the dragon. "Now then, I understand that you deeply resent the loss of your wings. Be assured that it won't last forever. For you see, it turns out that your...biological similarities to our species marks you as a perfect candidate for our most esteemed, advanced program."
It was here that Pete's fuse was blown. "I'm not a dragon anymore, you damn dirty snake! You took my wings, my body, and you won't stop at my sanity either! You should kill me right now if you had a brain, because I swear I'll—"
"You'll what? Force me to follow standard protocol for uncooperative test subjects?"
Pete's threat was cut short, for it had lost all credibility a long time ago. He had once attempted to resist a 'Behavioral Correction Assistant,' a creature that rose from the surrounding materials at a sea serpent's command. After a pathetic display of his meager control over earth, he had been rewarded with four broken legs and countless cuts and bruises. Pete knew that, for right now, challenging a mass of glass, metal and stone was foolhardy, and there was no way they would kill him when the Facility wanted him alive.
"Now, let's put those angry thoughts aside, Pete. I'll tell you right now that you'll get your wings back and much more if you are willing to cooperate."
"…More?" Pete ventured warily.
"Yes, we've greatly appreciated you volunteering your wings so that we could develop a newly discovered element. The research group called it 'Convexity,' I believe."
Convexity. Pete let this word rattle around in his mind, as well as the new opportunities this development presented to him. The sea serpents refused to teach him how to use his natural element, but would they resist teaching him an element of their own design? As long as he followed along and put on a smile, the serpents would be none the wiser, letting him perfect his skills. Then, once their guard dropped, their blood would spill...
"Pete?"
The devious glint in his eyes disappeared as soon as he heard the warden. "Uh, what?"
"I said, we plan to introduce this element to our younglings if you manage to demonstrate stable control over it."
This, Pete would not allow. For too long, the Waterians had stolen from him. Now it was his turn to steal something, and if one of those slimy bastards wanted to use this new element, they would pay with their lives. Of course, Pete made no mention of his designs and faked a defeated expression as he responded. "Alright then. When I do this for you guys, can I stop doing the experiments?"
"It depends…" the serpent mused, directing a glare straight at Malefor in the seats.
This breaking of the fourth wall startled the purple dragon in the audience and, before he could realize he was still dreaming, the stage bent in on itself and reformed into a titan of wood and metal.
Scrambling to what he remembered as the exit, Malefor attempted to break down the door, but to no avail. Slamming his horns against it, he left nary a scratch and so he cowered, awaiting his fate.
Nothing. Malefor cautiously craned his neck to see if the terror had left. The last thing he saw was a giant mechanical limb and a flash of white.
Malefor gasped into consciousness with a disorienting ringing in his ears. Sitting up, he looked down at his paled scales, attempting to remember the shade of purple they had become when the Waterians had reattached his deformed, elementally tainted wings. Time may have bleached them, but Convexity would always be his prized possession. It was his trophy, a symbol of his victory over his oppressors, and the basis for his waning sanity. After his defeat within the spork, it was the only thing he had left.
Another day, and Sparx was still hiding out at Hunter's apartment. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his baseline bro; he'd have loved to hang out with him after spending so much time away from him this loop. However, his twin from another world would likely be with him too, which meant there was a high chance of the other Sparx also being there. That alone was enough reason for him to reconsider spending time with his bro.
Sparx looked over at Ihy and found the Admin unconscious at two in the afternoon. Whether it was from lack of sleep or because his liver had finally demanded to the brain that it knock the Admin out so that it could catch up on removing the toxins, Sparx had no idea. Considering that the sun was directly shining on Ihy's closed eyelids and he wasn't even twitching, he was well and truly out of it. Though, given that the laptop's screen was just as bright as before, he probably hadn't been out long...
There was probably no harm in seeing what Ihy had been up to all day on that thing, Sparx mused. He'd probably not understand it anyway, or it would just be racy pictures or something. Or he was ordering more alcohol. That was probably it. Whatever the case, his curiosity would be satisfied.
So Sparx flitted around behind Ihy's place on the couch, which had a new dent since he'd been sitting there for so long. Much to his surprise, it was none of the things he had suspected—in fact, Ihy was working on an email. Sparx couldn't see most of what he was sending, if only because it seemed, at the moment he'd passed out, he had been in the middle of a Copy-Paste in the CC/BCC section.
The email which he was coping the sender's address from, however, was completely visible and, to Sparx's surprise, in a language that he could read.
"Administrator Ihy,
While investigations into your gross misconduct in regards to the Legend Dragon Realms have found you innocent of negligence and, indeed, seem to support your argument that your actions have increased anchor—and thus loop—stability, the manner in which you subverted our appeal system, and the nature of the matter dealt with, remain firmly within the grounds of unacceptability.
The nature of your offense, altering the Legend Baseline so that a then possible looper might be able to evade the circumstances of her childhood, was not in danger of threatening Yggdrasil or even crashing the Legend Loops, but to wantonly spend such precious amounts of Yggdrasil's remaining power on a frivolous endeavor must be met with punishment.
However, it must be granted that, in this case, your gamble has paid off in full. For this reason alone, your rights as an Administrator shall not be fully revoked.
However, your pay shall be cut, your hours and the number of loops you must manage have increased, and all actions taken through your workplace terminal shall be monitored for a period of time, which we shall not disclose. In addition, a black mark has been added to your resume and, should anything like this happen again, you will be relieved of your position.
Horus, Supervisor of the Egyptian Pantheon"
Backing away quietly, Sparx frowned. This email, which he probably shouldn't have seen, answered some of his bother's very pointed questions that had evaded a response until now. But it didn't leave Sparx with a quick answer as to what he was supposed to do with what he had learned.
There was much information squirreled away in this stronghold, Malefor observed. It was imperative, in his judgement, to move his home into the recesses of this citadel of knowledge. So far, he and his accomplice had avoided detection by hiding in the numerous storage rooms, and the 'cafe' that resided near the front entrance was a readily available source of fresh warm sustenance.
Even though he could not read, diagrams and graphs were still able to captivate him, and one fateful night he had come across a discovery that could be considered a lead in his investigation. Day and night, wherever there was solitude to be found, Malefor forced Ripto to translate the symbols on the pages of a massive book titled 'Genealogy of the Dragon Realms,' its cover depicting a plaque that resembled the leader of the dreaded sea serpents. Unfortunately this morning, Malefor's dominion over Ripto's mind could not hold against the siege of drowsiness and the orange raptor finally won his crusade for sleep, leaving Malefor stranded at page one thousand two hundred and thirty-one.
He simply watched as Ripto's dictation of the textbook transitioned into delirious murmurs. "Cosmos of the Magic Crafters, born year... One million gem bail... Plea bargain... " Ripto snored between his soft ramblings. "...No, please, I saved her, your honor... ...I'll take the jail time, just don't charge the bail..."
Listening to his companion's unconscious admissions, Malefor was reminded of 'trials in the court of law,' one of the many subjects he had discovered during his stay at the library. He made a note to question his partner later and proceeded to hide him away in the storage closet. As he closed the door and sat in front of the unfinished volume on the desk, Malefor was startled by a young voice.
"Who are you?"
Immediately, his eyes shot up toward the source of this disturbance. A crimson-colored copy of the green whelp from his visions was peering out from behind the corner with an impressed look on his face. He made no hesitation to walk toward Malefor as he gushed, "You look just like those pale guys that abduct people! You know, 'cause you have those really dark eyes and you're so freakin' tall! Are you a space dragon?"
Malefor had no words. He would have expected the small dragon to alert the authorities of his presence, but this child appeared to have no intention of doing so.
"It's OK if you are. Lots of people don't think they exist and some think aliens are evil, but if they were, why would they abduct people and then put them back?" The red dragon tilted his head quizzically in response to Malefor's silence. "You don't understand me, do you?"
It was here that Malefor chose to respond. His first friendship wasn't going too smoothly, and this fellow dragon had high regards for him already. "No, I understand you."
The other dragon was taken aback by his cracked and distorted voice, but he dismissed it, considering it a biological nuance of an otherworldly being. "Oh, that's cool. Sorry, if I offended ya."
"I am not offended. What is your name?"
"Flame, and yours?"
"Malefor. Would you be my friend, Flame?"
Flame was rather confused at this extraterrestrial's benevolence. He half-expected to be whisked away into a spaceship and strapped to an observation table, like the stories said. However, the expression on its face displayed a deep melancholy. Perhaps it was lonely; maybe it was the last remaining member of an endangered civilization from the stars. Flame took pity and sat next to the strange being.
"Yeah, sure. So, were you trying to read about the Dragon Realms?" he asked, looking down at the giant text before them.
"I cannot read. I have another friend who was reading this to me, but he is unavailable."
"I could teach you how to read, if you want."
Malefor could barely believe his ears; Ripto had never offered him this. "I...don't know what to say."
"You don't have to thank me, I do consider myself an advocate for the paranormal," Flame said with a proud smile. To think, he could be the first dragon to teach an alien how to read! "Let me get a pen and paper. I'll show ya all you need to know!"
With that, he ran off to retrieve said materials. Malefor looked on wistfully with the full knowledge that Flame was extremely lucky to live such a carefree life. Maybe he, too, could learn to live like this, just as soon as he had solved the mystery at the park.
"I'm back!"
Flame returned propelling himself on a swivel chair, his writing supplies in his lap. The first thing that Malefor noticed was Flame's odd position. Had he sat like a normal dragon should, he wouldn't have been able to push himself forward with his hind paws. Instead, the whelp was sitting like... No, no, that was impossible. Malefor chose to push these thoughts out of his mind. It was just an odd quirk, nothing more.
As Flame came to a stop in front of the desk, he placed a piece of paper on top of it and started his lesson. "Alright, so let me write out the alphabet here. You're gonna need it."
As Flame grasped the pen, Malefor witnessed something vile and unnatural. One of Flame's claws had twisted in the opposite direction, allowing him to hold the utensil securely. An image of scissors flashed over Flame's paw, and Malefor froze in complete terror. He remembered in great detail the surgical tools, knives, syringes, and scalpels—they were all held in that exact manner within the sea serpents' claws. The book's cover held far more significance than Malefor had imagined, and reading was now a non-issue.
Flame had barely finished writing the twenty-first symbol when Malefor spoke, attempting to keep his nausea in check. "F-Flame."
"Yeah?"
"I apologize, but I have a question. Who is that on the cover of this book?" Folding the book over, Malefor pointed toward the plaque.
"That's the Great Sea Dragon," answered Flame matter-of-factly.
Malefor once again lost whatever color he had in his scales. "Why is...she in this book?"
"Well, it is said that the dragons came from the sea and the Great Sea Dragon carried her children on her back, taking them to land so they could grow and prosper. But that's a myth, so I'm not sure if it's very accurate. I do believe, though, that we have relations to water-based creatures since we can survive a pretty long time underwater. In fact, every kid learns to swim before they learn to fly."
Silence fell between the two dragons. The lack of noise grew uncomfortable and Flame voiced his concern. "Are you alright?"
Malefor continued to stare forward, his mind preoccupied with a revolting conclusion. He needed a second opinion, someone to tell him that this was a ridiculous idea. "Flame, please listen. Imagine that, a long, long time ago, a great disaster caused a society under the sea to fall apart. Few survivors were left. These survivors escaped to land and successfully reproduced with the inhabitants, causing a new species to arise. Would it be crazy if I said that dragons were this new species?"
Considering this theory against what he already knew, Flame said, "It would certainly explain the sea dragon myths, our affinity for water, and the undersea ruins off Dragon Shores. But what kind of disaster would cause the survivors to move that far? Were they afraid of something?"
Malefor lowered his head, now convinced that his theory was sound. "I am the disaster. I made them fear me."
Flame was now thoroughly bewildered. "...What?! How old are you, exactly?"
"I was sealed away after the Waterians suffered my vengeance. It cannot be determined how many years I have existed. But to think, their lineage, my bastard children, soiled my kind for generations to come?!" Drops began to fall down Malefor's face. "It's just not fair..."
Flame didn't fully understand what Malefor was going on about, but he felt guilty, believing that he had caused him to cry. "Hey, no! Don't cry, it's OK..." He reached his paw toward the weeping entity.
The limb never reached its destination. By some miracle, Flame suddenly found himself some distance away from Malefor, who now glared though his tears, his eyes glowing. Flame swore that he hadn't walked backwards and he tried to move toward Malefor again.
"Leave."
This time, Flame observed the room around him warping and stretching, creating more space between him and Malefor. He didn't know what was happening, but the more he walked toward Malefor, the further and further away he became. Now the small office had transformed into a long corridor and Flame decided that, if this alien could perform such a feat, it wasn't out of the question that he could bring down an entire civilization like he had claimed. With that, Flame rushed out, hoping that he hadn't incurred the creature's wrath and electing to keep this close encounter of the third kind to himself.
Ceasing the flow of Convexity within him, Malefor released his control over space and the hallway reformed into the compact office it had been before. By now, he was livid. "How could I let this happen?" Malefor whispered to himself. "The sea serpents live and I am now the ancestor of countless descendants. What can I do? The planet is ruled by hybrid scum; true dragons are a rarity."
As his tirade continued, Malefor curled into a fetal position and rocked back and forth. His twisted mind magicked up vile, atrocious designs. The conclusion was inescapable: to save the dragon race, his contaminated descendants must be terminated, and pure, true dragons needed to be found. And how would he accomplish this feat?
The portal transit.
If he could cripple the realms' main form of long-distance travel and communication, there would be no resistance to his attacks, and the only option would be to see reason and sacrifice for the good of all true dragons. And this time, no survivors would be left. Malefor would not make that mistake again.
He opened the closet to find Ripto still sound asleep. Hoisting the raptor onto his back, Malefor crept into the emergency stairway, another refuge he had found in the library, and proceeded to scale the steps until he reached an escape hatch. Opening the small door, he snaked onto the roof and searched the city below for a place to stay. First, Ripto would rest, and then Malefor would return to Convexity to prepare and execute his final solution to the Waterian epidemic.
Sweat dripped from Ember's forehead as she stood firm, facing the training dummy. She frowned, a determined glint in her eyes, and took a deep breath, her wings beginning to glow. With a swift move, she launched her wings forward, causing a wave of blue energy to engulf the test dummy and sending it tumbling back. Ember stumbled a bit as she struggled to keep steady. As she straightened up, a whistle sounded.
"Not bad," Classic said, walking over to her. "You've only just started using chi and already you're close to my level at it."
Ember glanced at him, managing to smile despite her lack of energy. "Thanks."
Classic smirked, sitting down next to her. It felt odd to be training the same dragoness that used to cause him to run for the hills every time he saw even the tiniest glimpse of pink, but it actually wasn't too bad. Though Ember had agreed to stop self-training in order to join the dojo, the dojo didn't teach Dragon Kata this loop. As such, he had decided to uphold his promise—though they had to train on one of the far off plains away from the city so Ember's mother wouldn't catch them.
"Don't push yourself too hard, though. As I said, you only just started learning Dragon Kata and that's on top of all the other things you're trying to learn."
Ember sighed, lowering her head and closing her eyes. "I know. It's just..." She shook her head. "I just want to be ready to defend myself from anything. If I'm cowering in fear from a mugger, I can only imagine what would happen if the loops threw something like the Sorcerer at me."
Classic frowned slightly, placing a paw on Ember's shoulder. "Hey, don't think like that," he said, lowering his head to make eye contact with her. "You managed to get through my first three adventures before you even knew how to head-butt properly, right?"
"I suppose," Ember said, lifting her head slightly. "Mostly it was through sheer dumb luck, though. I still can't believe the Sorceress got her wand stuck in one of the tiles when one of Agent 9's rogue shots fired it right out of her hand." She giggled.
"I can believe that. Agent 9 has always been pretty random, even in the loops," Classic said, placing a paw on his forehead. "That guy has so many triggers to cause him to go off the rails it's insane. If I even so much as blinkat the wrong moment, he ends up doing something different from baseline."
"Imagine if he was looping," Ember said, raising her head. "I may have only met him for a brief moment, but I can't help but get the feeling his first thought would be that the rhynocs are behind the loops."
"Yeah, that sounds like him alright," Classic said, chuckling.
He took a deep breath and an awkward silence fell upon them as they looked towards the setting sun. Classic sighed, dropping his gaze and closing his eyes. Noticing this, Ember raised an eyebrow.
"You okay, Spyro?" she asked, ducking her head to look him in the eyes.
"Huh? Yeah, why?" Classic asked, raising his head and glancing over to her.
"I don't know. You just seem...depressed all of a sudden," Ember said, giving him a concerned look.
"What? Me, depressed? Come on now," Classic said, putting on a half-hearted grin as he turned away. "That's...ridiculous..."
Ember narrowed her eyes. She could tell Classic was lying and she was determined to get him to spill what was troubling him. "Spyro, I know things are still a bit weird between us, but we are friends. If something's bugging you, I'm here to listen."
He paused, glancing over at her wide blue eyes. Classic blinked before looking back down and closing his eyes again, sighing.
"...Remember what happened early on this loop? The thing we've been trying to cover up?" Classic said, making sure no one else was around to hear them.
"Yeah?" Ember asked, lowering her voice.
Classic took a deep breath and met her eyes . "...Do you think I 'lucked' into my adventures?"
"Huh?" Ember asked, staring blankly at him.
Classic shook his head. "Ro said it when he was...not in the best mindset." He looked up at the sky. "He went on a rant about how there were no true heroes in the realms, just people who lucked into it, be it good or bad luck."
"But...that's silly. You chose to help everyone and be a hero."
"That's what I thought," Classic said, lowering his head. "But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how I tended to luck into my adventures. Being the only dragon who wasn't turned into stone, the dragon who went through a portal at the right time, the only dragon small enough to fit through the rabbit hole..." He sighed, shaking his head. "I know I shouldn't let this get to me because, like I said, Ro wasn't in the best mindset, but..."
As Classic went silent, Ember hesitated and took a moment to collect her thoughts. She had never seen her Spyro like this before. He was always so confident and snarky. Maybe it was because she had never hung out with him like this before but, regardless, she wasn't going to let him put himself down like this.
"Okay... So what?"
"Huh?"
"So what if it was some dumb luck that got you to go on your adventures?" Ember said, looking Classic in the eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that you stood up when people needed saving."
"Yeah, but..." Classic lowered his head again. "Being a hero was a thing I loved. The idea that I didn't choose to be one, and that it was only luck that all that happened..."
Ember frowned as Classic trailed off and seemed to curl up into himself. She closed her eyes and shook her head before looking at her hero with a determined stare.
"Spyro, listen to me," she said, placing her paw on Classic's cheek to make him look back at her. "Think about it this way. Even if it was luck that brought you there, you still chose to be a hero. You didn't have to save all the dragons from stone. You could have just freed one and made it his problem."
Noticing she had gotten his attention, Ember wasn't going to let up now. "The same goes with Avalar. You didn't have to help them. All you wanted was to go on a vacation and they interrupted that. You could have forced them to send you back, let them deal with Ripto themselves and get the orbs needed to do so, but you didn't." She gave a smile. "And same with the Forgotten Realms. Even though you were the only one who could, you didn't have to. Even after you freed the others who had been captured by the Sorceress, and even when they started to help you fight her, you still chose to keep on saving everyone instead of letting them handle it."
"You always have a choice, Spyro. Even if luck brought you there, that doesn't obligate you to do anything about it," Ember finished, giving him a soft smile.
Classic was silent, staring at the ground. After a moment, he glanced back up at Ember and smiled. "Thanks, Ember..."
"Any time," she said, grinning. "Don't forget, Spyro, your heroics also inspire others to do the same." She glanced downward with a shy smile.
Classic paused, looking at Ember from the corner of his eye. He smiled slightly, closing his eyes. "Embs?"
"Yeah?" she asked, looking up at him.
"I want to say I'm sorry again for how I treated you early on... You're a good friend."
Ember smiled, shyly lowering her gaze. "Thanks..."
A silence followed as both dragons watched the setting sun. Finally, Classic stood up. "Alright, how 'bout we get back to training? I actually haven't used Dragon Kata much during my loops, so how 'bout we see if there are any ways to use it that even Sensei Ragnar didn't think of?"
It was unbelievable, Malefor thought, that so many useful things had been left in Convexity to rust and rot. Ripto called this location a 'dump' and he also complained of an acrid odor, though it didn't bother Malefor in the slightest. Among other things, his indefinite stay in the spork prison had destroyed his sense of smell. Maybe it was for the best that he did not react to the atrocious scent. In order to build up his army, Malefor had to make use of everything he could find. Even the resources found here were of use. And what use could that be?
Malefor stepped back from the sculptures he had built out of scrap metal, tires and plastic. His creations, his children, were objects of beauty, and soon they would be one of many carriers of judgement upon the hybrids.
Ripto wasn't too impressed. "Hooray, you made art. Go sell it to a museum, why don't ya."
"...It shall carry out the final solution, do not speak lowly of it," said Malefor in a tired voice. He was growing weary of his friend's constant insults and whines. "Ripto, be useful. Give me your wand, would you kindly?"
Ripto checked his cloak and produced the magical artifact. If Malefor could find more sources of arcane power, he could recycle the spells that he had stolen and edited from the Waterians' monsters so that his servants would carry out his plans with and without his supervision.
With the wand in claw, Malefor carefully removed the orb on its end and placed the sphere in the smallest of the statues: a tire, repurposed into a saw, with sharp pieces of tin lining the rims. Using his magic sense, he witnessed the currents of magic that flowed around the circular golem and decided that it was ready to be brought to life. First, a singularity was required. Without one, Malefor would have no way to command it over great distances.
Ripto stepped back a little once he saw Malefor doing something...weird with his eyes. The wheel and its surroundings appeared to stretch and squash until a light began to glow in its center. Then, the tire began to roll back and forth and, as it did, Ripto concluded that Malefor was possessing it by some dark, forbidden power.
Suddenly, it pointed itself toward a pile of junk and attacked, flattening the mound into a perforated pancake. At this, Malefor smirked. His first golem was working smoothly. All it needed was a directive, a cause that would drive it at all times. It needed to be enchanted. Remembering the skills that he had picked up during his last conquest, Malefor summoned a magical interface of Waterian design and proceeded to cast a spell, dictating his commands to the living wheel.
"Spin, spin, spin with a raucous din. For victory, for the destruction of hybrid fiends, for me, you shall win."
With that chant, the incantation was applied and Malefor welcomed the newborn monster into his arms, cautious not to catch his scales on its blades. As he stroked the animate tire on its 'head,' joy dug its way into his calloused heart. No longer was he alone. He had his progeny, his friends, to support him, to defend him, to carry out his final solution. All he needed was more power, more magic.
"Ripto."
Ripto shuddered, hoping that Malefor wouldn't request him to participate in target practice with the little beast he had just brought to life. "Y-yes?"
"Magic, I need more. Where can these...spheres be found?"
"I stole it from a hardware store, so I bet there are factories that make them."
"Excellent." Here, Malefor took no chances, squashing all thoughts of rebellion and fear in Ripto's mind. "Listen closely. You will collect more for me. Once we have built enough golems, we will take one of these factories, collect materials and increase our numbers. A glorious plan, is it not?"
"Yes, Malefor."
"Now, go."
Ripto immediately sprinted off in the portal transit's direction. He didn't need any further instruction and his life was now dedicated to the purpose of scavenging more orbs for Malefor's army.
Meanwhile, Malefor continued to cradle the round horror in his arms. It was possible that true dragons like himself no longer existed, and that was fine. If there was no one of pure ancestry to restore the dragons' bloodline, the golems would carry his legacy—the legacy of the true dragon.
The air grew cold as evening fell over the city of Lorefang and Legend made his way towards Cynder and Ember's house. Nina had asked him to pick up his brother. Walking up to the door, he knocked on it. He could hear footsteps coming from inside before the door opened to reveal Cynder on the other side. Seeing Legend standing there, she smiled.
"Hey, Spyro," she said, walking over to him.
"Hey," he said, smiling as he sat down. "How have things been lately?"
"Annoying," Cynder said flatly, her expression going flat. "I think your other self might be a bad influence on Ember." She glanced back to make sure Classic wasn't listening. "Just this morning, I went to check on Edna because I hadn't seen her all morning. I checked her bedroom and found her plucking mustache hairs off her lip." Cynder rolled her eyes. "All the while, I heard giggling coming from Ember's bedroom."
"Yeah, sounds about right," Legend said, chuckling slightly. "He's not as bad as I originally thought when the loop started, but...I'd suggest keeping on eye on them when they're together, if only to make sure he doesn't get her into serious trouble."
"It's still a bit hard to believe that someone who looks so much like you could be so different..." Cynder said, trailing off as she rolled her eyes.
In the silence that followed, Legend glanced back at the sky. He took a few seconds' pause before looking back at Cynder. "...You feel it too? The uneasiness in the air?"
"Yeah," Cynder said, walking out to gaze at the sky. "There's been this uneasy feeling all day. I can't quite place it, but it feels like..."
"...something big is coming," Legend finished. Silence fell over the two dragons as they continued to stare at the sky. A few seconds passed before Legend closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Years and years of war had given him a sixth sense when it came to impending battles, and if Cynder was feeling it too...
"Nina wanted me to pick up my brother," he said, finally breaking the silence. "I feel like it might be best to stick together until this feeling passes, but I doubt Nina will approve of us spending the night here."
Cynder closed her eyes and nodded before starting to head inside. "I'll go get him," she said, stopping to glance back at Legend. "Just be careful for now."
"I will," Legend said, closing his eyes. "May the ancestors look after us all, no matter what comes our way."
With that, Cynder entered the house. Legend took one last glance up at the sky. He may not have known for sure what was causing this feeling of unease, but he would be ready for whatever would happen. He had been through war countless times. It was integrated to his baseline and always seemed to follow him wherever he went. If it were to start up in this peaceful variant, then he'd be the first one to step up and stop it... Just like always.
(Hoo boy. Things are starting to get rather serious here. Sorry if it felt like this chapter was bit all over the place. With a new antagonist force coming in, on top of everyone wanting to get any misc. stuff they wanted to write out of the way before things start getting really serious, it kind of ended up this way. Hopefully there wasn't too much of a whiplash, though.
Odd, though... This Malefor definitely seems a lot different in comparison to baseline. And what was up with those 'Waterians' he keeps having dreams of? Eh, I'm sure it's nothing. How will the loopers handle the incoming storm, though? You'll just have to wait and see next time!
Remember to leave a review because it really helps us out, and make sure to stop by the official FF.N Forum!)