Well, got this done quicker than I expected, but here's the next chapter for you.
I tried to make this one of a less depressing tone, especially after last chapter, but it ended up somewhat gloomy all the same. Kind of unavoidable, given the current state of things, I suppose. Don't worry, though; the next chapter is going to have some action, so things will pick up considerably then.
Anyway, new chapter for you:
Chapter 24:
While the pain in her body was all but gone, the pain within was a far more difficult thing to treat.
When Cynder opened her eyes, roused by the flat, grey glare that streamed in from the east-facing window of her room in the infirmary, she immediately wished that she simply hadn't woken up. Her sleep had brought peace and welcome forgetfulness with it, sheltering her from past events, but now that she was awake it only brought everything crashing back down on top of her, making her want to just curl up into a tight ball and seal herself off from the world.
After all, what did it hold for her except pain?
With a forlorn sigh, Cynder uncurled her wings from around her body and began trying to shift so that her head was no longer caught in the light that filtered through the overcast sky and into her window, hoping she might be able to fall back asleep for at least a short while longer. However, as she shifted, she winced as a dull twinge shot up from her right flank. Scowling bitterly, she glared down at her side.
When Sirius and Faren had brought her to the infirmary on the night of Spyro's rampage, they had arrived to a scene of chaos. A dozen dragons and moles that had been injured in the fighting had already been inside, healers of both species working frantically to stifle the bleeding of horribly deep gashes, set broken bones and treat a whole other variety of agonizing injuries. In her shattered, semi-conscious state, it had been too much for Cynder to bear to witness. It was like a final blow to her, erasing any lingering doubts of what Spyro had become when she saw the suffering that had been dealt by his paws. Her response had been to retreat deep into herself, becoming all but dead to the world around her, no longer caring what happened to her as moles and dragons began working feverishly to prevent her from succumbing to blood loss.
It had been a long, arduous process for her to endure. Work had lasted all through the night and long into the following day. There had been no rest, for her or the healers, as they worked to stop the bleeding in her wound, which was a considerable one to say the least. Long and deep, it had taken the efforts of no less than three healers to keep her from bleeding out in front of them, with alternating treatments of disinfecting herb pastes and red spirit gems. Though one would think that healing her would just be a simple matter of giving her enough red gems to heal her of all injury, in reality there was only so much energy that a dragon's body could take from the gems at a time without suffering any ill effects. Just like relying solely on green spirit gems for strength was hazardous, relying entirely on the healing power of the red gems could be even more dangerous than the wounds you were trying to heal. As a result, it had taken many, many hours of work before Cynder was out of danger, the healers painstakingly sealing Cynder's wound a bit at a time. By the middle of the afternoon when the gash was finally closed over, Cynder had been thoroughly exhausted and had simply collapsed into a heavy sleep as the healers wrapped a thin layer of protective bandages over her still-delicate flesh.
The bandage was still there, she realized, causing the scales beneath to itch uncomfortably, and it took all of her strength of will to keep from simply ripping it off right then and there. In fact, even despite her efforts, Cynder had actually begun to inch her tail blade toward a fold of the fabric when a sudden, weary groan startled her and caused her to freeze in place. She quickly turned her head around toward the front of the small, plain room, and when she saw the source of the noise she was taken by surprise. There, lying curled tightly on her side near the door to the room, was Faren.
Cynder found that she couldn't think of anything to say at this unexpected turn of events, and she only watched as, slowly, the thin red dragoness began to stir and uncoil her body, stretching out with another muffled groan as she tried to work out the stiffness from sleeping on the hard stone floor. After a long, silent yawn she finally cracked her bright green eyes open, which she blinked blearily a couple of times before she finally seemed to notice the black dragoness watching her every move.
"Oh!" Faren squeaked nervously, appearing embarrassed and also slightly unsettled by Cynder's hard eyes on her. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep here..."
She trailed off anxiously as Cynder continued to stare her down, unmoving, not so much as uttering a syllable or even blinking. Cynder, meanwhile, found herself in a sort of puzzled daze; she felt strangely numb, detached, as though her pain and despair from the day before had faded into an all-consuming, inescapable ache that filled her being. Finally, as Faren began shuffling her forepaws uncomfortably and averting her eyes from Cynder's, the black dragoness spoke.
"Were you here all night?" she asked in a stiff tone.
Faren quickly shook her head, as if she was afraid that Cynder was mad at her. "No. I came late in the evening, just to check on you. I didn't mean to stay. I just..."
Again Cynder didn't respond for a long moment, blankly processing the fire dragoness's words with hardly any reaction.
"Why?" she said at length.
Faren looked surprised, and even a little hurt by the question, but nonetheless she replied, "I was worried about you."
"Worried?" Cynder repeated, puzzled.
She looked away, considering those words, turning her gaze downward and absently tapping her tail blade against the stone floor. She didn't notice the dismayed look that flashed across Faren's expression when she noticed this action, as though she were afraid of what the other dragoness might do with the deadly weapon.
"Worried, why?"
"What do you mean?" Faren said, and this time it was her turn to sound puzzled. "You were hurt badly, Cynder. And you're my friend. Why wouldn't I be worried?"
Cynder looked up quickly, and when she noticed the look of deep concern etched into the red dragoness's features she suddenly felt a strange uncertainty, not entirely knowing how to react. However, barely a second later the feeling was replaced by a small swell of warmth and gratitude that managed to chase away some of her pain, if only for just a brief moment. It was such a simple statement, what Faren had said, but still Cynder found it deeply touching that Faren, who had been so extremely reserved and timid when they had first met, thought of her now as a friend.
It was something that she had begun to notice during the few training sessions the guardians had managed to fit in for them while not worrying about Spyro's behaviour, as if fighting side by side had helped Faren to forge a bond. At that time, Cynder had been surprised to find herself beginning to feel protective of Faren as she had allowed Cynder closer to her because of her seemingly delicate nature, but if the skill she had exhibited during their training was anything to go by, protection wasn't something she needed.
Still, the feeling of warmth and gratitude was short-lived when she looked around again and remembered where she was and what had brought her there. A hint of sadness managed to creep into her expression as she turned away to look out the window, letting out a sigh.
"Thanks," she muttered.
Faren quickly seemed to notice the tension in her voice, and with a concerned look in her eyes she leaned in slightly to look at her more closely.
"Do you want to talk?"
Cynder gave a low snort, as though it were a foolish question to ask.
"Talk about what?" she asked with an edge of sudden bitterness in her tone. "About the fact that two nights ago the dragon I thought loved me tried to rip me in two? Is that what you mean?"
Faren looked taken aback by the flare of anger in the black dragoness's voice. Then a saddened look came over her expression, and her gaze dropped sullenly to the floor.
"I...I'll leave you alone," she muttered, rising to her feet to leave.
The hurt in her voice immediately caused Cynder to falter, and when she turned her head back to see Faren glumly padding toward the door she felt a sensation almost akin to panic shoot through her.
"Wait!"
Faren looked back into the room with a startled expression at the sudden call, and Cynder gazed back at her with just as surprised a look. She hadn't meant to just blurt the word out like that, but now she realized that, for a reason she couldn't entirely comprehend, the idea of being alone at that moment deeply unsettled her. When she caught sight of the lingering hurt in the other dragoness's eyes, though, a feeling of guilt came over her.
"I'm sorry," she sighed, averting her gaze. "I didn't mean to yell." Then she looked back up at Faren with an almost pleading look. "I would like it if you stayed."
A light smile immediately touched the dragoness's lips, and she nodded before turning back and sitting down where she had been moments before, facing her companion. When she had settled a moment passed in silence as Cynder suddenly found herself at a loss for words, still slightly reluctant to talk to anyone about what had happened and unsure of how to go about voicing her thoughts. Faren didn't pressure her, however, just waiting for her to decide on what to say.
"I just have trouble accepting that it's real, I guess," she muttered finally, after almost a full minute of silence had passed between them. "That he's gone..."
She trailed off as her voice tightened, a stab of pain rising in her chest. Then, all at once, the anger came surging back to her.
"How could he do this?" she demanded, slamming a forepaw against the stone floor. "How could he suddenly just turn against everything he used to care about? It doesn't make any sense!"
Faren's face was impassive, betraying only the slightest of flinches at Cynder's sudden outburst. Then, in a measured tone, she asked, "Do you believe it's too late to help him?"
Cynder sighed exasperatedly.
"I don't want to. I mean, I of all dragons should know that darkness is something you can escape. But after seeing that look in his eyes...that hatred..."
She looked up to see Faren still watching her with that carefully blank expression, though there was clear tension in her body. Cynder, however, wasn't fooled by her mask. She could tell the fear that the red dragoness was trying to hide from her; it was a futile attempt. After all, after years of experience Cynder had become a master of sensing it, exploiting it, and instilling it. Now, though, all it did was fuel her own helplessness.
"I'm afraid, Faren," she confessed at length, her voice tight. "I'm afraid that I'm losing him forever. I'm afraid of what he's becoming. What if nobody can stop him, before...?"
She hadn't the heart to continue with her question, but Faren seemed to guess what she meant anyway, and for just a brief moment Cynder could see the fear that flashed through her eyes.
"All we can do is try, I guess," she said quietly.
Cynder gave a low snort, but had nothing to say in response.
Very little was said between them in the span of time that followed. Faren said nothing at all, simply waiting for Cynder to decide she was ready to speak, and when she did it was usually small confessions about the fears and worries that had been plaguing her for those past few days, or about the sickening feeling of pain and betrayal that filled her now. She was somewhat embarrassed to be saying these things, since she wasn't one who liked to show what she felt was weakness in front of others, but after what she had endured she found that she just couldn't hold it in any longer. In all that time, Faren proved to be a surprisingly good and patient listener, and Cynder thought that it might have something to do with the fact that she rarely did any amount of talking herself. Still, she was extremely grateful for her company in that trying time.
They were interrupted about an hour later when a female mole attendant arrived at Cynder's small room and asked if Cynder was ready to have her bandage removed, a suggestion the dragoness was only too eager to agree to. The process took only a couple of minutes, the mole working with deft fingers to untie and unwrap the white strips of cloth from Cynder's midsection. Finally the last strip had been removed, leaving her flank bare. Then a heavy silence descended over the room as everyone looked down to examine her newly-revealed side.
"Well, it looks as though it's sealed over quite well," the mole concluded at length.
Cynder didn't reply, scowling down at her flank. While the mole was correct and the wound had completely closed over, leaving her flank smooth and undamaged once more, she hadn't come away unmarked either. In most cases, the healing energy of red gems was enough to erase all signs of a wound, healing damage quickly enough that no scar was left behind, but the slower healing required for her more serious injury meant that this wasn't the case. Now, Cynder frowned in mild distaste as she gazed upon the long, narrow line of silvery-white that ran across her flank and abdomen, faint by any standard but still in glaring contrast to her dark scales.
In all my years of fighting, no one has ever managed to mark me like this, she though grimly.
Though some might have been proud of a scar such as the one she now bore, considering it a testament of how they survived such a hardship, Cynder found that she wanted nothing more than to be rid of what she viewed as a reminder of an incident she would much rather forget. Looking at it now, all it served to do was to call up an image of that horrible moment in her memory, and she shuddered as she tried to force the scene out of her mind.
"It looks like there's no need for you to stay here any longer, then," the mole declared a moment later, looking up at Cynder. "Just take it easy for a while so you don't aggravate it."
Cynder glanced up at the mole briefly before turning her gaze back toward the scar, knowing that she should be grateful for the treatment she had received but only feeling hollow instead.
"Thanks," she grunted finally.
A look of sympathy flashed across the mole's expression, but she was wise enough not to try and offer any words of condolence. Instead she simply gave a slight nod before turning about and disappearing through the arched doorway and down the hall beyond. When she had gone, Faren turned her attention back to Cynder.
"Are you ready to leave?"
Cynder nodded without a second's hesitation. "Let's get out of this place."
She began shifting to get her paws underneath her, pushing against the cushion on which she had been lying ever since she had been brought into the room. Almost as soon as she began to push, however, she winced and gave a muffled grunt as a twinge of pain shot up from her side, the area around the healed wound still quite tender. Faren immediately moved closer to offer support, but Cynder refused her.
"I'm fine," she grunted before Faren had gone more than a step toward her.
Faren once again looked hurt by the black dragoness's harsh tone, but she said nothing and moved aside to allow Cynder to pass her. Then, silently, she followed Cynder down the hall. They moved with a slightly hurried step, both of them eager to leave the infirmary behind them and escape the sights and sounds of the pain Spyro's attack had caused. Cynder scarcely looked up as they moved through the halls, only lifting her gaze from the floor directly in front of her paws once the pair had passed through the infirmary's main doorway and emerged out into the open air of the city. Even then, though, it was impossible to escape the air of gloom, for the sky overhead was choked with heavy, dark clouds, and a faint rumble in the distance foretold the arrival of rain. Cynder could practically feel it coming on the winds.
"Where is everybody?" she asked when she looked around and saw the streets around them were almost totally deserted. The only moles and dragons in sight, aside from guards, were moving with a hurried air about their steps as if to minimize their time out in the open. The atmosphere within the city seemed unusually grim.
"I'm not sure," Faren replied, following her gaze.
The reply had sounded genuine, but Cynder had still caught the slight hesitation that had come before it, and she turned her head and fixed the red dragoness with a suspicious look. Faren drew back anxiously when she saw the intensity in Cynder's emerald eyes, and she gave up her resistance rather quickly after that.
"Okay," she sighed, lowering her gaze. "Yesterday the guardians put the City Guard on a high state of alertness. It seems like it's making people nervous."
"They put the Guard on alert?" Cynder repeated, straightening in surprise. "Why?"
She suspected that she already knew the answer, and when Faren looked up at her with a sad expression, it all but confirmed her thoughts. With a low growl, she turned and began storming up the street toward the temple.
"Where are you going?" Faren asked, hurrying to catch up to her.
"To hear the guardians' explanation," Cynder replied sharply without turning her gaze.
She heard Faren utter an uneasy sigh, but didn't so much as glance toward the other dragoness. She knew that it didn't bode well if the guardians had felt the need to increase the city's alertness. If they were planning something, she was determined to find out what it was.
It only took a few minutes before her destination came into sight up ahead, and without slowing her pace Cynder climbed the steps and began making her way down the halls to the main assembly chamber, where she felt it was most likely to find the guardians at that time. Soon enough she found that her assumption had been correct, for as she approached the hall's main entrance she heard the voices of the guardians coming from within. As she approached, however, she slowed with a feeling of surprise when she realized that there were many more voices than just those of the guardians coming from within the chamber, and curiously she began edging toward the doorway much more quietly than before. Puzzled by her reaction and still appearing slightly anxious, Faren crept along beside her. They both stopped once they reached the edge of the door, and cautiously Cynder inched her head forward and peered inside.
What she saw caught her by surprise. The atmosphere within the large space was far different than she had ever seen it before. A low wooden table had been brought in and set up in the centre of the chamber, and now several dragons and moles, including the guardians, were gathered around it, peering down at something spread out on its surface; possibly a map. Several of the dragons and moles were wearing armour, which immediately gave Cynder an uneasy feeling. The whole chamber looked more like a war room than the site of peaceful gathering and discussion that it was intended to be.
She spent a quick moment to glance around the room and try to identify as many of the members within as she could. Several of them were guards adorned in full armour that she didn't recognize. Aside from that, though, there were the three guardians, of course, along with Sirius who was seated by Terrador's right side, gazing down at the table with a grim, uneasy expression on his face. Not far away stood a much larger fire dragon that Cynder knew was Sirius's and Faren's father, the chief elder of the eastern city, Tythos. By his side was another, slightly smaller fire dragon wearing heavy but plain armour. She assumed that this was the eastern city's Captain of the City Guard, whom she had been told was named Pyruth, by the way he carried himself. On the far side of the table and with their backs turned to the doorway, Cynder saw Mason in the same armour she and Spyro had seen him in on the day they had first arrived in the city during the siege, and by his side stood Raulk, the bulky earth dragon towering over the mole beside him. He was wearing his more elegant wood armour from the northern city, but Cynder could see that it had now been engraved over the shoulder with the emblem of the Warfang City Guard; a pair of crossed mole short swords in front of a dragon, its head reared back mid-roar with a stream of fire escaping from its jaws. Hunter stood on Mason's other side, dressed in his usual red cloak. However, underneath the fabric Cynder could see that he was also wearing a set of light silver armour consisting of a breastplate, shoulder guards and bracers on his forearms.
"Alright, we have arrangements settled for the safety of the citizens, then," Terrador rumbled, addressing the moles, dragons, and cheetah that were gathered around the table. "Let's move on to finalizing our deployment plans for the guards. Mason, what is our status?"
"The last round of reports indicates that everything is ready, Master Terrador," the mole replied promptly. "All of our guards are fully equipped and ready to move into positions in short order. The catapults are also well equipped with ammunition, and are all reported to be in full working order."
"Good," Terrador grunted with an approving nod. Then he shifted his gaze to his right. "And what of your forces, Tythos?"
"Ready as well," the fire dragon elder replied without hesitation, glancing toward his captain in an invitation to carry on with the report.
"Our units have all been briefed regarding the chain of command they are expected to follow in the event of a deployment, Master Terrador," Pyruth declared in a sharp, decisively military tone. "When the time comes, you'll have no problem with them carrying out their instructions. The Eastern City Guard is fully at your disposal."
"Thank you, captain," Terrador said. "When we are finished here, I would like you to report to Mason so that the two of you can finalize the distribution of the two divisions."
Pyruth's only reply was a sharp nod. He glanced quickly toward Mason, who returned the gaze, both their faces impassive. Cynder was utterly unable to tell whether there was any rivalry between the two, or whether their interactions were anything short of professional.
Terrador then turned his attention toward Raulk, who straightened when the eyes of the earth guardian fell on him. There was silence for a moment, and in that time Cynder noticed a look of tension cross the larger dragon's features.
"And have you heard anything back from the elders of the northern city?" he asked, almost as if he were dreading the answer.
Raulk gave a low sigh before saying, "It's as you expected, Master Terrador. To summarize the chief elder's response in a more civilized tone, he said that they would have nothing to do with any operation of ours and that it was an affront against their dignity for us to expect that they would allow us to order their forces around in any way we saw fit." He paused, then added, "This was after a number of remarks of a somewhat more personal nature directed at me, which I feel do not bear repeating at this time."
Terrador snorted irritably. "Well, it had been wishful thinking to being with to expect that lot to be cooperative to begin with. This response was to be expected, I suppose."
"Indeed," Cyril huffed disdainfully. "Honestly, how one can be so pompous and self-absorbed, I will never understand."
Even despite her mood and the grim atmosphere within the room, Cynder couldn't help but smirk just a little at that remark, and she saw Terrador and Volteer exchanged similar looks, though they were careful to prevent the ice guardian from noticing.
"However," Raulk cut in suddenly, causing the guardians to look up at him curiously, "they did add that, in the event that danger were to present itself, we could count on their Guard to do all in their power to ensure the safety of their citizens. Given that the dragons from the northern city are housed throughout the core of Warfang, we can then be confident that that area will be well defended if an attack were to occur."
"Well, that's something at least," Terrador rumbled thoughtfully, glancing down at the map again, which Cynder had assumed by that point to be a map of the city. "Which means that the Warfang and Eastern Guards can focus their attention more toward the city's perimeter. We'll have to adjust our deployment plans accordingly."
"That will not be difficult," Mason said reassuringly, and Pyruth nodded in agreement.
"See to it immediately," Terrador instructed, receiving another pair of nods from the two captains. Then the hulking earth dragon turned his attention on Hunter, who had remained silent all throughout the proceedings so far, an expectant look in his expression.
"Prowlus's reply has been received," the cheetah reported without delay. "He and a division of our warriors from Avalar are on their way to the city as we speak and should arrive early this afternoon." He allowed a brief, grim smile to touch the corner of his mouth. "However, he made certain to voice his displeasure about it."
"Not surprising," Cyril muttered.
Terrador merely grunted, shooting his colleague a brief glance before looking back at Hunter. "Send him our gratitude. Any help we can count on in this situation is a small comfort."
Hunter inclined his head in confirmation.
It was at that moment that Cynder simply couldn't restrain her curiosity and anxiety any longer, for by that point she had a fairly good idea of what they were talking about and it caused a gut-wrenching surge of anxiety within her. To the shock of Faren beside her, she stepped out from behind the corner of the doorway and strode directly into the chamber. Almost immediately her approach was noticed by the guardians.
"Cynder," Terrador said with a great deal of surprise, causing everyone else in the room to spin around to face her with mildly startled expressions.
"What's going on?" Cynder asked suspiciously, glancing about at the members of the gathering with narrowed eyes.
No one answered for a moment. Terrador turned his head to look over at his two guardian companions, an uncertain look about his expression, but at length he gave a heavy sigh and allowed his head to sag toward the ground, defeated.
"I suppose there's no use trying to hide it from you," he said. "Ever since the events of two nights ago, we have been preparing the city for the possibility of an attack in light of Spyro's warning when he left the city."
Cynder's expression darkened slightly and her gaze drifted off as her mind flashed back to the words he had uttered, just after he had attacked her.
'This isn't over.'
"So..." she began, glancing around at the commotion within the chamber. "What's all this, then? You're planning on starting a war with him?"
Terrador sighed again, his expression becoming pinched.
"Believe me, Cynder, this was not an easy decision to come to," he said pleadingly. "But after the damage he did on his way out of the city, we have to take every precaution. If he attacks again the city will be at terrible risk, and we must do whatever is necessary to protect everyone inside it."
"Whatever is necessary?" Cynder repeated, a sudden swell of dread and horror rendering her voice weak when realization hit her full force. "You mean...kill him?"
She wanted them to say that she was wrong, that this wasn't what they were planning, but she felt her heart fall heavily when she saw the look of sadness and guilt that entered the earth guardian's eyes.
"If it comes to that, we don't see that we have any choice," he said mournfully.
Cynder felt like she had just been physically struck, and she retreated a couple of steps in horror, shaking her head.
"How could you even say that?" she demanded in a weak voice.
"Cynder, please, you have to see that it may be the only way to protect the city."
"But you can't just kill him!" she protested. "There has to be some other way!"
"What other way? You saw the way he was two nights ago. He didn't hesitate to turn against everything he used to care about. Almost fifty dragons and moles were critically injured in that attack. If he attacks again, dozens could easily die!"
"No," Cynder protested, her voice cracking. "He wouldn't—"
"He wouldn't?" Terrador exclaimed, cutting her short. "Cynder, look at what he did to you! None of us thought that he was capable of ever hurting you, but he could have easily killed you that night!"
Cynder faltered, unable to come up with a response, and her eyes fell to her right flank, to the pale scar that Spyro had left on her hide. A horrible feeling of uncertainty crashed over her.
He's right, she thought, and almost immediately she hated herself for thinking such a thing, but it was impossible now to deny. He's not the dragon I knew anymore...
"I can't understand how difficult this is for you, Cynder," Terrador said gently. "I know that. But this path he is embarking down is one we all unfortunately know well."
Those words stung her worst of all. The fact that Spyro could be likened at all to Malefor seemed profoundly wrong, but the evidence was out in the city for all to see. Cynder cringed as a sense of loss and sorrow suddenly stabbed at her heart upon the realization that Spyro may have truly become lost to them, and she shut her eyes tightly for a brief moment to try and hold back tears.
"You're right," she muttered finally with a tremendous effort, unable to meet the elder dragon's gaze. "He has to be stopped..."
"I am sorry, Cynder," Terrador said sadly.
Cynder nodded slowly, still gazing down at the floor and trying to hold her mixed emotions in check. She felt as if a storm of grief, anger, betrayal and confusion was raging inside of her, and if she didn't keep a tight hold on herself that she might explode from the force of it.
"Do..." she croaked unsteadily. "Do Sparx and his parents know?"
Terrador sighed before shaking his head.
"We haven't had the chance to tell them. Our focus has been devoted entirely to preparing the defence of the city."
Cynder nodded in understanding, but inside she felt that it seemed unfair to leave his family out from news such as this. Of course it would only bring them pain to hear the decision that the guardians had come to, but they deserved to know what may end up happening to their son. At the thought that the guardians were just going to leave the dragonflies in the dark about it, possibly right up until the battle actually broke out, she was filled with sudden bitterness.
Were they even going to tell me? she wondered.
She shook the thought from her head quickly, though, knowing that it wouldn't change anything to dwell on it now.
"I'll tell them," she said to the guardians.
The three elder dragons all looked surprised—as well as many of the other dragons and moles in the chamber, but Cynder was trying not to notice the way they were watching her with grim looks of sympathy. After a moment, though, the surprise faded from their faces, and Terrador gave a small nod.
"Perhaps that is for the best," he grunted. "I wish you luck."
Cynder merely nodded in return, no longer trusting her voice to speak.
"We truly are sorry that things had to turn out this way," Cyril told her apologetically.
Cynder nodded again before turning away and retreating from the chamber before anything else could be said, doubting that she could bear any more of the conversation. Struggling to hold back tears of grief at this cruel twist of fate, she nearly ran into Faren who was still standing just beyond the door.
"Cynder...are you okay?" she asked anxiously.
"Fine," Cynder lied, turning away to try and hide her tears from the other dragoness. "I'm sorry, I have to go..."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
Cynder immediately shook her head. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I do this alone. You understand, right?"
Faren nodded immediately. "Of course. Listen, if you need anything—"
"I'll be fine," Cynder cut her off, just wanting to get away from that place then. "But thank you. Now, I really should go."
Before Faren could say anything else, Cynder pushed past her and hurried down the hallway, emerging outside in the grey light of the heavily clouded sky shortly afterward. She took a short moment to stare up at the clouds, appearing on the verge of unleashing their stored rain on the world below, and for some reason she thought it was strangely fitting in that moment.
Then she shook her head and, blinking again to force back her unshed tears, set off down the streets of the city on her way to the temporary residence of Spyro's and Sparx's parents. It didn't take her long to get there, for it was situated only a couple of blocks away from the temple and the residence where hers and Spyro's rooms were located. It was a mole-sized inn of moderate size, three levels tall with enough space for a dozen rooms on each of the floors. As such, it wasn't built with dragons being able to enter it and its rooms in mind, but Cynder was still young enough that she could fit without too much difficulty. After pausing for a moment to suppress her nerves, she passed through the main entrance and, after explaining her reason for entering to the mole attendants, began climbing the stairs to the third floor. Moments later she was standing before the closed entrance to the room where the dragonflies had been accommodated. After hesitating again for a moment, she lifted a forepaw and knocked lightly on the wooden door with a talon.
"Come in," came a voice from inside, Nina's by the sound of it.
Cynder was suddenly struck by a strong feeling of reluctance, feeling almost guilty about what she was about to do. This would no doubt be devastating to them, she realized with a twinge of sorrow.
Still, it was best if they found out this way.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Cynder placed her forepaw against the door and pushed, causing it to swing inward with a muffled creak. Through the now-open entranceway, Cynder saw that the room was an extremely simple one, with a single mole-sized bed against one wall, a dresser against another, a low set of shelves under the window and a simple table in the centre of the floor. However, the moles had tried their best to make it more comfortable for the tiny dragonflies, using such things as tightly folded blankets for beds and other such furnishings. Inside the room, she saw three distinct points of light hovering about.
"Cynder?" Nina, who was the closest to the doorway, said in surprise when she saw the black dragoness standing uncertainly in the hallway. "My, this is a surprise."
"It's good to see you out of the infirmary," Flash said as he and Sparx floated over closer to the doorway. "But what brings you here?"
It took a moment before Cynder could find the words to answer, and at length she said hesitantly, "Can I come in? There's something I need to talk to you about."
"Of course, dear," Nina replied, moving aside and waving with a tiny arm into the room. "Make yourself at home."
"Thank you," Cynder muttered, stepping slowly into the chamber and closing the door behind her with her tail. She advanced only a couple of steps into the room before coming to a halt, however, glancing around at the three dragonflies, suddenly at a loss for words. She was distracted from her task, however, when she heard Sparx utter a low, strained whistle from beside her.
"Whoa," he said in a subdued tone, and Cynder turned to see him looking down at the scar on her flank. "Spyro really got you good, huh?"
"Is it bad?" Flash asked her, concern clear in his voice.
Cynder immediately shook her head. "It's better now, thank you." Then she sighed before slowly sitting down on her haunches facing the dragonflies. "How are you all doing?"
The three dragonflies seemed to deflate slightly as they cast each other saddened glances. Then Nina gave a weary sign, clasping her hands in front of her and allowing her gaze to fall to the floor.
"We're just trying to make sense of it all still, I suppose," she said at length.
"This is something that we never could have seen coming," Flash added, nodding in agreement. "I mean, to think that Spyro could..."
He trailed off, apparently not having the heart to finish his sentence, and seeing the pain in their faces only made it more difficult for Cynder to carry on with what she knew she had to do.
"So what is it that you needed to talk to us about?" Sparx asked finally, an uncharacteristic seriousness about his demeanour that Cynder attributed to the effect his brother's betrayal had on him.
She sighed again, extremely reluctant to burden Spyro's family with her grim news, but she knew that she had no choice but to continue now.
"Listen," she said quietly. "There's something that I need to tell you, but...it's going to be hard to hear."
The dragonflies appeared unsettled by these words, and they exchanged anxious glances before turning their attention back to the black dragoness.
"Go on," Flash said simply.
Cynder faltered, her words failing her for a brief moment, but after taking a long, deep breath to collect her thoughts she was able to begin. Feeling hollow and deflated, she delved into the difficult news she had for the purple dragon's family...
*.*.*
Far to the north of Warfang, a young purple dragon sat alone atop the crest of a small hill in the otherwise flat, desolate plains that lay between the dormant volcano behind him and Warfang to the south, which was little more than an indistinct smudge in the distance to him now.
A sudden rustle behind him caused Nexus to turn his head back, glancing over his shoulder to see a single grublin anxiously climbing the hill to him. When it was only a few feet away, it stopped and addressed the purple dragon with a string of chirps and guttural warbles that would be unintelligible to any other dragon.
'The army is ready,' it stated.
Nexus shifted his gaze over slightly and paused for a moment to study the host of dark creatures that stood awaiting his instructions. Comprised of the full divisions that had attacked the eastern and northern dragon cities, as well as about half of the grublins that had participated with him in the assault of the mountain village, the army spread out before him was an impressive sight indeed, enough to fill any dragon with dread.
What came next should have been simple, Nexus knew. He had spent the morning simply waiting for the grublins to organize and prepare themselves to depart, but now that the time had come for him to order the advance, he found himself strangely reluctant to give the command. It was almost as if he didn't want to do it.
Barely seconds after he had this thought, Nexus felt a pressure growing within his mind, and a twinge of unease shot through him when he detected his master's familiar, chilling presence.
"What is this reluctance I feel in you, Nexus?" his master asked in a tone that was difficult to decipher. "Your moment of triumph is at hand. Are you unwilling to take this final step to ensure your success?"
"No," Nexus replied immediately, not caring that, to the grublin standing behind him, it looked as if he was speaking to no one but himself.
"And yet you hesitate. You doubt yourself, while you did not before."
Nexus sighed and closed his eyes wearily, realizing that it was futile to deny his feelings to his master.
"It just doesn't seem right, that the only way to bring Spyro back to the Dark Realms is to destroy him like this," he relented finally. "He's not supposed to be my enemy, and yet here I am treating him like a target that I have to tear apart piece by piece."
"Indeed, it is regrettable," his master rumbled thoughtfully. "But the methods used will mean nothing in the end. All that matters is returning Spyro to where he belongs; by our side. As long as you get him to the Dark Realms, it makes no difference how you do it. As soon as he is here, his destiny will be sealed."
"Yes, Master," Nexus said with a grim nod.
"Good. You have shown tremendous promise these last few weeks, Nexus. I am pleased. Now, finish this last task, and your success will be a certain thing. Hurry, before your opportunity passes you by."
"I will not fail you, Master."
Nexus thought he detected a sense of satisfaction emanating from his master's presence before the contact was severed, the pressure receding from his mind. Then, once his thoughts were clear once again, Nexus gave a heavy sigh and resigned himself to his task.
A low, crashing rumble sounded from the dark grey sky overhead, and Nexus looked up just as he felt the first impacts of raindrops upon his scales. While the rain was but a mere drizzle at first, it rapidly gained intensity until it was coming down in sheets.
"Give the order," Nexus grunted to the grublin behind him. "The rain will conceal our approach. I want to be in position to strike at the city by nightfall."
The grublin nodded and gave a sharp reply of confirmation before turning about an unleashing a high-pitched screech that echoed across the plains. The call was answered a moment later by a chorus of thousands of eager voices, and all as one Nexus's army began to advance.
One last battle, Nexus thought, his expression hard and impassive with barely a hint of emotion. One more fight before I can end this deception and bring Spyro back.
Let's get this over with.
Rising to his feet, Nexus took a deep, steadying breath and subdued his emotions until only a hard determination remained. Then he began descending the shallow slope of the hill, leading his army toward the indistinct mass on the horizon that was Warfang.
Little did he know that at that very moment, another purple dragon was also making his way to that very same city...
Ooh, Nexus and Spyro are both heading to Warfang. How is this going to work out?
Stay tuned and find out!
Until next time...