Dark Legacy

by Dardarax

23 years after Spyro and Cynder saved the world from destruction, peace finally reigns. The dragons have returned and all flourish beneath the rule of the Five Kings. Now it is time for the next generation to mark their place in the annals of history.

26. Exposure

Chapter 26. Exposure

By: Dardarax

Disclaimer: I, Dardarax, do not own Spyro, Cynder, the Temple, or any other character or place belonging to the Spyro franchise. This chapter is too serious for a disclaimer joke, so I'll have to postpone the clown-nose spaghetti camel event for another time. Sorry everybody you can go back home for now! *Ahem* Anyways: A good number of my characters are featured in this chapter, their names are listed at the bottom.

Warning: To all ye, my faithful readers, know that you are not prepared for the contents of this chapter. You will be sickened, and you will be disturbed. If you ever wondered why this story was rated Mature, you will know by the end of this chapter. If the contents of this chapter do not affect you in any way, seek help immediately, your next killing spree may occur at any moment...

The sky filled with dark, choking smoke as the battle raging in the twining streets of Dellberie died away. The fading fires crackled as Voltlyn bound down the rubble strewn streets, her heart heavy with dread. Healers wandered through the streets around her, accompanied by a pawful of soldiers tending to the wounded, both on their side and the Ferans'. Voltlyn dodged around a pool of dark, sticky blood and came to a stop by one of the groups of physicians, panting.

"Have you seen a white dragon?" She asked one of the healers, fidgeting anxiously. "He's small, just a little shorter than me. He's thin, with scars all over, red eyes and eight horns."

The healers paused for a moment in what they were doing and looked to her, expressions puzzled. Voltlyn slumped as they each shook their heads in turn.

"I'm sorry, but we have not seen a dragon like that." The nearest healer, a black canine murmured apologetically. Voltlyn nodded grimly, sighing.

"Thank you." She whispered, disheartened, plodding along back down the street, her ocean blue eyes downcast. She slowed her rapid pace as a cough sounded behind her..

"Miss, it is almost time for you to return to the camp." Her guard, a green earth dragon, said as he strode alongside her, casting Voltlyn a concerned glance.

Voltlyn turned to face him, and shook her head. "Not yet, I can't stop yet."

"But miss!" The soldier insisted, earnestly. "Lady Cynder's instructions were clear. One hour of searching, no later than that."

"But I can't stop, not now. What if he's lying out there somewhere, hurt, with nobody to tend to him, how could I..."

"You cannot take this burden all on your own." The guard murmured, coming to a halt and putting a paw on her shoulder, she shrugged it off, but stopped as well. "And surely you alone can't be the only one to find him. Someone else might have and may have brought him back to camp. Maybe one of your other friends found him? Maybe he's in the infirmary already, and is waiting there for you there?"

Voltlyn let out a long sigh, and then reluctantly nodded. "Alright." She squeaked, turning to face the green dragon. "Take me back then."

The soldier smiled, his youthful face sympathetic. "Alright, and don't fret, I'm sure your friend will be alright."

Voltlyn smiled wanly back at him, attempting to force herself to be optimistic. They turned back the way they had come and made their slow way back, Voltlyn occasionally forcing them to take detours when flashes of white caught her eye.

The camp was a buzz of activity when the pair returned, soldiers and healers swarming around like a disturbed nest of insects. Just outside the camp, a crowd of Feran and Panther refugees marched passed, leaving the city as the army occupied it. Voltlyn and her body guard were forced to take flight into the crowded skies in order to make it to the Guardians' tents, and somehow managed to land despite the crowd of officers waiting outside the tent flaps. The officers glared at the pair as they were permitted entry, some shouting angrily at the guards, frustrated to be bared entry while the children were permitted in.

Voltlyn sighed as she entered, and looked around. Savron sat despondently on the edge of his mother's and father's bed, playing with the beads that dangled off the edges of the cushions. Igneous sat beside him, idly flipping through a book he had found on the desk on the opposite side of the tent. Sleet, Typhous, and Danrah all sat in a corner, Vash brooding in silence across from them as the three chatted in muted tones. They all glanced up as Voltlyn entered the room, their expressions apprehensive.

"Did you find him?" They all asked in unison, eyes bright with hope. Voltlyn's heart fell at their reaction, and she shook her head. The entire room slumped, with the sole exception of Vash who just looked on, his expression oddly desolate.

"I guess that means we just have to wait for Tirren to get back." Savron sighed, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I'm sure someone will find him." Inferna murmured sadly, approaching the group from where she and Cyril had been talking on the far end of the tent. "I had Tirren go to the clinic tent, to wait and see if Lyrith is brought in."

Inferna glanced over at the green dragon guard fidgeted at the entrance of the tent, and nodded to him. "You may take your leave, soldier."

The earth dragon bowed, and left the tent, returning to his duties.

Inferna sighed, turning to look away, eyes distant. "I hope he's alright."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Inferna." Cyril prompted from the back of the tent. "He's tough, even if he's an Albino, I'm sure he'll have made it through. He has the blood of an ice dragon somewhere in his linage, I assure you."

"Thanks, Cyril." Inferna replied, a small smile creasing her grim face. "That was a very moving sentiment."

Cyril puffed up proudly and Inferna had to force herself not to roll her eyes sarcastically. The tent flap brushed open, and Tirren stepped in, Cynder and Spyro at her back. Everyone looked expectantly at the green dragoness, waiting with baited breath for her report.

Tirren swallowed, and shook her head.

Everyones' faces crumpled, hope fleeing from their eyes. Tirren closed her eyes sadly and shuffled into the tent, taking a seat beside Igneous. Spyro and Cynder followed her in, and looked around the crowded tent.

"I hope you're all proud of yourselves." Cynder sighed, directing her comment to her son and his friends. "Your rash actions not only put your own lives in danger, but may very well have gotten your friend killed as well."

Everyone in the room flinched at her flinty tone and Savron's face, already pale, grew deathly white.

"Cynder! Isn't that a little harsh!" Cyril hissed, his expression firm. "They're only children after all, we can't expect..."

"By disobeying our wishes, and coming to this war of their own volition, they're declaring themselves to be adults." Cynder snapped, glaring over at Cyril. "And as such, we will treat them like adults. They must be taught the consequences of their actions." Cynder moved over to Savron, and glowered down at him, her face dark. "What do you have to say for yourself, hm? What excuse will you give to try and weasel your way out of this, Savron?"

Savron said nothing, his expression shamed and disheartened. Cynder waited a moment, and then snorted in satisfaction.

"Now maybe you'll finally learn how to smarten up, it's unfortunate that it may have come at such a high price." Cynder turned back to Spyro, and sighed. "Let's go, we have a war meeting to attend to."

Spyro nodded and glanced over to the students as he and the Guardians moved towards the tent flap, his amethyst eyes saddened. Then, he turned away, and exited the tent. Cynder stopped, letting her mate and the other Guardians pass her, and turned back to the students.

"You will not be leaving this tent until we return. Once we do, we'll set you all up with your own tents. You will remain in them for the remainder of this 'war,' and will, under no circumstance take part in any of the battles. Understood?"

The young dragons nodded. Cynder grunted and departed, stamping out of the tent.

The black dragoness sighed disparagingly as she caught up with her compatriots, and together they pushed through the crowds towards the central canopy of the war tent.

"Do you think I was too hard on them?" Cynder asked the purple dragon, her beaked face weary, all fierceness leaving her in an instant.

Spyro shook his head slowly. "No, I don't. You were right about what you said, they came here on their own free will, acting as adults, so they must accept the consequences like an adult. No more side stepping or concealing the truth from them like they were children."

Inferna and Cyril nodded in agreement, their expressions grave. Cynder looked between them, not entirely convinced. They fell into an awkward silence for a few moments, none sure what to say next.

"Is something the matter, Inferna?" Spyro asked the red and yellow dragoness, concerned, noticing her despondent expression.

Inferna glanced up, and sighed. "It's just... I can't stop worrying about him. Nobody knows where he is, and I can't help but fear the worst. I don't know what I would do if he came up..."

"Don't worry Inferna, I'm sure he'll be alright." Spyro said, comfortingly as he opened the flap to the war tent. "It's only a matter of time."

Inferna nodded slowly, eyes downcast, unable to reply.

The four entered the tent, and took their positions at the large, circular table in the center of the tent. Terrador and Pyron nodded their greetings to each as they took their places, their thick plate armour gleaming dully in the light, dried splotches of blood spattered over the glossy metal. Prowlus and Cyrine sat on chairs across from the dragons and the Cheetah and Hawk nodded as they took their seats on the cushions laid out for them.

"It is good to see you're alive, Spyro, Cynder." Pyron murmured, his dry voice resonating, even in the cloth confines of the tent. "I heard that you dealt with a Behemoth on our behalf, that is quite the feat."

"It wasn't easy," Spyro chuckled humourlessly, reaching up and touching his right wing with a paw, flinching as it throbbed painfully. "and we didn't exactly come out unharmed."

Pyron shrugged, a smirk creasing his stout muzzle. "Regardless, it is something worthy of commemorating. You saved countless lives by burying the beast, even if you had to destroy the Tower of Arganzark in order to achieve it."

"Where is Diatrax and Albiard?" Cynder asked, looking around the war tent for the missing two monarchs. "I thought they'd be here..."

"Albiard is out organizing the soldiers in occupying the city." Prowlus grunted, spearing a morsal of meat with a knife, and bringing it up to his mouth. "As for Diatrax, he's..."

"Back from listening to all the pompous capt'ns whine." The wolf king grunted, throwing open the flap to the tent and storming in. "And it was not a pleasant duty, I can tell you that. Ach, think I g't a migraine just waiting to happen." The wolf threw himself onto his chair, landing on an angle so his legs were lying across the arms of the chair.

"Were any of them as important as the captains claimed?" Cyrine clucked, his sharp eyes boring into Diatrax. The wolf snorted and sneered, his one good eye gleaming.

"Mostly j'st reports on casualties, and supplies lost and captured. The sorts of things that are as pleasant to read as a tax bill. Though a coople of the little reports caught my attention." Diatrax drew out an envelope, and tossed it down on the table.

"And what might be so important about these 'little' reports?" Pyron grunted, taking the envelop and opening it.

Diatrax snorted, rolling his eyes, picking a crumb of food from between his fangs. "Read page three."

Pyron flipped to the third page of the folder, and all of the Guardians leaned forward to examine it.

"It's a report from a minor officer assigned to assault the siege weapons on walls." Diatrax grunted, unceremoniously rubbing his hands on his vest.

"Defense minimal, guarded by barely two dozen soldiers, most of which were no older than recruiting age. Next to no experience in combat and defensive tactics, were taken with no casualties on our part." Pyron read aloud, his expression darkening.

"Don't sound like a normal assault on siege engines, does it?" Diatrax commented wryly, glancing around the tent, his eye burning.

"No. Normally such an asset would be heavily guarded." Terrador grunted, eyeing the papers.

"It gits even stranger, as I'm sure all of yah noticed, the archer positions were all well within the walls."

"Yes, they were clearly poorly placed."

"Aye, but each squad was also placed on short, easily accessed buildings, with hardly any fortifications."

"That doesn't sound right..." Inferna muttered, her frown deepening.

"Most of the other major locations were also poorly defended, almost entirely with recruits and civilians. All of the veteran warriors were positioned well out of the way of the vital areas, where they were easily trapped and wiped out."

"This doesn't make any sense." Prowlus growled, snatching the envelop from Pyron's paws and glaring down at the paper. "What kind of incompetent commander would distribute their forces so foolishly?"

"No, not even an incompetent commander would place his forces so recklessly." Terrador grunted, plucking the map of the city from the folder and spreading it out on the table. Dozens of markings covered the map, each marking a spot where the ferans had been placed. "Even an inept commander would have had some kind of logical organization to their forces. Forces on the walls, heavier guards with the siege engines, reinforcements to back up the major locations, things even an imbecile would not overlook." Terrador gestured over the map, and everyone leaned over to examine it. "Look at the placement of these soldiers. There's no pattern to it at all, no reason and no sense. There are wide gaps between the soldier's positioning, with many of them clustered together in areas that we could slip around them and catch them from multiple sides. No commander, no matter how idiotic, would be this daft in defending a stronghold. It's almost as if..."

"As if they wanted us to take the city." Pyron finished for Terrador, shaking his head. "It's almost blatantly bad, as if everything was placed there for a purpose, creating the worst possible situation for their soldiers."

"But why would anyone purposefully sabotage their own defenses?" Cynder demanded incredulously. "It's just... Irrational."

"Do you think that it's possible that the one doing this is on our side?" Cyrine asked, cocking his head and staring through his spectacles at the Guardians and Monarchs.

Diatrax shook his head. "Nay, because it would have been the same commander who ordered the soldiers to attack us the moment we arrived. Something is going on that we don't understand."

Everyone in the tent was silent for a time, contemplating. Then, a slight cough at the entrance caught their attention, and they turned to face the young wind dragon standing nervously at the tent flap.

"What is it?" Pyron sighed, his eyes closing tiredly, expecting another report.

"Uh... K... King Diatrax sent for me... your majesty..." The earth dragon squeaked, swallowing hard. He was barely old enough to be of recruiting age.

"Aye, I did." Diatrax grunted, gesturing for the dragon to enter. The greying canine looked over his shoulder at the figures surrounding the table, and cleared his throat. "This be something that may interest ye. Go on, boy, speak up! Tell them what yah told me!" Diatrax prompted roughly returning his attention back to the young soldier.

The young green dragon swallowed hard and turned to the Guardians sitting at the table stuttering nervously as he tried to arrange his thoughts.

"Uh... D... during the battle my squad and I were h... helping the third battalion push through to the center of the city... w... we were told to break off and go through an alley to flank a large group of soldiers coming from the front. W... while we were moving, we came into an alley where two dragons were f... fighting. This black and red dragon was tossing around a small Albino like a rag doll, and laughing like... like some sort of demon."

The Guardians started at the news, and glanced at each other concerned.

"What did the dragons look like?" Inferna murmured, her voice low as she swallowed back her fears.

Emboldened, the soldier continued. "The white was all beat up, bleeding bad. He was barely putting up a fight anymore. He was small, like I said, with a grey underbelly and blood red eyes, I thought for a moment he was a female, before I got a closer look."

Inferna sighed and shut her eyes tight. "Go on."

"The black dragon wasn't that large either, but he was the most terrifying thing I ever saw! Soaked in blood, with strange bloody gauntlets and patches of armour covering its body. It had the largest fangs I'd ever seen on a dragon."

"A blood dragon?" Cyril whispered, shocked. "I haven't heard of one in years! I had thought they had been hunted to extinction decades ago!"

"Anyway, we came around the alley and our sergeant demanded they stand down, since we didn't know what side they were on. The blood dragon said something about interrupting his meal, and charged us." The grass green, three horned dragon paused, and his gaze fell to the ground guiltily. "I... I panicked and ran, fleeing into a house. When I turned around to see what was happening, my entire squad was dead, torn to shreds. I guess I got lucky and it didn't see me, but everyone... they're all... gone..."

Terrador frowned sympathetically as the dragon stopped, sniffing as the enormity of what happened sunk in. "Please, continue." The Guardian of Stone murmured gently. The warrior looked up, and wiped at his eyes, pulling himself back together.

"I... I hid in the house, watching while the dragon turned back to the white. The Albino had gotten up and was trying to get away, but the black dragon hit him with a rock and dragged him back over to where he had been lying before. He... he..." The solider shivered. "He was going to eat him. I couldn't do anything but watch as ... as it stabbed the white in the stomach, and started drinking his blood. Then... then the tower collapsed! It distracted that monster long enough for the white to get the upper paw, and start choking the beast!"

Some hope returned to Inferna's grim expression, her hazel eyes brightening. "That's Lyrith for you."

"I was going to go out and help him, stomp on that monster's face and punch holes in him with earth spikes, but before I could, he came." The soldier paused, shivering, shutting his eyes tight at the memory. "This, horrible purple shadow appeared, bearing purple fire on his staff. He took one look at what was happening, and hurled a bolt of lightning. It... it hit the white dragon in the side and knocked him off."

Spyro and Cynder started, glancing at each other with wide eyes.

"He... he was horribly burnt... I can still smell it... And he screamed, oh how he screamed. But that was nothing to what came next. The figure came forward to him, and the purple fire became so bright that I couldn't see, and I had to look away. And it laughed. I wanted to run, to flee from this place and go home, where I could hide under my covers, weeping."

The soldier stopped, unable to continue, tears started to roll down his face as the echoes of the laughter rang through his mind.

Inferna rose and padded over to the stricken soldier, draping a wing over his shoulder.

"It's okay, that fiend is gone." The Guardian of Fire whispered, soothingly. The earth dragon sniffled, nodding. "Can you go on?" Inferna asked, her voice cracking as she forced back her own emotions. "We would very much like to know what happened next."

"I... I don't know." The earth dragon admitted, bowing his head. "He stopped laughing, said something and then the light vanished. When I could finally look back, they were gone. All three of them."

The Guardians glanced at each other worriedly, then, smiling wanly, Terrador turned back to the soldier, and nodded.

"Thank you for this information, it is of... great interest to us."

The warrior nodded, head drooped low to the ground.

Diatrax nodded to the dragon. "Yah may go."

The dragon bowed to the kings, and turned away, trodding solemnly out from the tent. The Guardians watched him leave and then glanced over at Inferna as she took her seat back at the table, her expression growing even more grim.

"So... he was taken captive by that sorcerer, the one who you fought in the tower." Inferna whispered, glancing over at Spyro.

The purple dragon nodded. "It seems that way. He called himself Jaxar and claimed to be the 'advisor' to prince Ramolous."

"Ramolous?" Pyron asked. "I've heard of him. He's a bit of an extremist in the Feran nobility. He was opposed to our treaty from the beginning."

"That makes him a prime suspect then, doesn't it?" Spyro grunted, his lips peeling back, fangs gleaming brightly in the torchlight. "First this wizard comes along and claims to be working for him and tries and kill us. Now we learn he's been opposed to our treaty right from the onset."

"Indeed it does." Pyron affirmed, nodding. "We'll likely have to deal with him when we reach Grasbronda."

"My question, is what this magician wants with Lyrith?" Cyril muttered, tapping the table with a claw. "He's an Albino, a smart one and a fairly good fighter, but an Albino none the less. I can't imagine what he would want with him."

"That is a troubling question." Terrador murmured, stroking the spike jutting from his chin. "Hopefully we can end this war, and find him before whatever he has planned can come to fruition. Pyron, can you ask your captains to keep an eye out for this dragon? We will want to stop whatever this maniac is planning, it could prove dangerous, to us and to our student."

Pyron snorted. "I'll give the captains his description, but we won't go out of our way to search for him. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

Terrador nodded. "Understood."

"Why is that name so familiar?" Cynder whispered, frowning thoughtfully.

"What was that?" Inferna asked the black dragoness, turning to face Cynder. Cynder perked up.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that that wizard's name has been bugging me. I feel like I've heard it somewhere before, but I can't place where."

The Guardians glanced at each other, skeptically.

"Well, he might have been mentioned during the negotiations." Cyril suggested. "After all, many of the nobles were present during the first stages, so he might have been brought up when Ramolous came up to speak his piece. He might have even been the one to speak on Ramolous's behalf."

Cynder frowned, and then nodded slowly. "Maybe..."

"Regardless, I think it's time we took a break." Cyrine clucked. "A lot has happened in this meeting, and we should probably take sometime to eat dinner in order to digest everything we've learned. We can come back to this this evening."

The occupants of the tent murmured in agreement, and sat up, stretching. The Guardians filed out of the tent, heading back to their own for supper.

"So, Cynder." Inferna murmured solemnly, stepping up to the Guardian of Wind and Shadow as they left the tent. "What should we tell them? How should we tell them?"

Cynder sighed. "Let's wait until after we're done eating, then you can tell them. They've already gotten a lecture from me and I'll probably find a way to give them another while telling them the news."

Inferna smirked humourlessly. "That you would, that you would."

---

"Ach, I shtill cannot belief you shaved that damned white!" Travix snarled as he and Jaxar padded across the branch-ways of Grasbronda, the palace looming up before them. The blood drake nursed his injured neck, grimacing in pain. "You should haf let me kill him while he wash down, not bring him back here and heal him!

Jaxar chuckled at the blood dragon's grumbling and shook his head. "Ah, you are still sore about your near defeat at his paws, aren't you? I must admit, I have never dreamed an Albino would be capable of overpowering you, especially with such grave injuries."

"He wash lucky!" Travix growled furiously, grinding his fangs together as they stepped into the palace. "I had him right up until the end and had I really wanted to, I could haf finished him almost immediately."

"I do not doubt that, Travix." Jaxar said, nodding. "But regardless, this white dragon was able to hold out against you longer than many hardened soldiers. He may be useful to us."

Travix looked over at his mentor, and frowned. "You don't mean to ushe him in your experimentsh, do you? I don't shee what a white dragon could add to our..."

"He will add a great deal to our research, Travix." Jaxar rebuked, turning his sunken red-orange gaze upon the blood dragon. Travix did not back down.

"And what, exactly could he provide for your reshearch, then?" Travix huffed.

"Yes, I'm wondering the same thing, Jaxar."

The pair glanced up and stopped as Ramolous stepped out into the palace courtyard. The feran prince gazed at the two curiously, his muzzle pulled up into a small smirk.

Jaxar cleared his throat and bowed to the prince, gesturing for Travix to follow suit. The blood dragon bowed reluctantly, never taking his eyes off Ramolous.

"Your majesty." Jaxar murmured as he straightened, his eyes moving up to the prince's, before flicking back down. "We had only just arrived, so how have you come to know we had taken a prisoner?"

Ramolous eyed the sorcerer critically, and then huffed. "I had a number of my soldiers keep a look out for your return, they mentioned the Albino in their report."

"Ah." Jaxar said, nodding. "I see."

"So why don't you answer my question, Jaxar." Ramolous grunted, his eyes narrowing. "For what purpose did you bring the Albino to Grasbronda? I sincerely doubt he'd be any value as a prisoner of war."

"In order to test the effects of the crystals, of course." Jaxar stated, his expression slightly amused.

Ramolous frowned. "I thought you said they were ready for use?"

Jaxar nodded. "Nearly ready, I figured that a few more tests would ensure that there are no side effects. We do not want to have his highness crippled by some unforeseen development. An Albino would be perfect for testing the affects of the crystal, as there would be no magical interference to complicate the results of the testing."

Ramolous nodded slowly. "I see... I see... That makes sense. It is good that you are taking precautions, Jaxar. I am truly grateful for all the work you have done."

Jaxar bowed, flourishing his cloak dramatically.

"I will have the crystal brought down to your lab for testing tomorrow. Hopefully you can have it back to me before the army arrives... Which brings me to the next point," Ramolous looked down at Jaxar seriously as the half-breed rose. "was the assassination successful?"

Jaxar's expression turned tense, and he swallowed. "I'm afraid there were... complications, your majesty."

"I figured as much." Ramolous grunted, snorting. "I hadn't really expected them to die, in fact, I'm almost happy they survived," The prince sneered. "it'll give me a chance at them myself."

Jaxar frowned. "You're majesty hadn't expected I would succeed?"

Ramolous laughed. "No, these are the dragons who slew Malefor twice. You may be powerful and resourceful, but even you would have stood little chance against them."

Jaxar smiled coldly and nodded. "Yes, I suppose you are right, your majesty."

"However, it's going to be different this time." Ramolous chuckled, turning and padding away. Jaxar and Travix glanced at each other, and followed after, keeping pace with the prince. "Once I take in that cyrstal, they will be powerless before me! And I will finally end them and their tyranny once and for all!" Ramolous turned abruptly to face Jaxar. "Was the little purple slain?"

Travix swallowed and started to answer. Ramolous ignored him, and continued look intensely at Jaxar. Travix to stammer to a halt upon seeing the prince's dismissal, and sneered.

Jaxar shook his head. "I'm afraid he eluded us during the battle, my lord."

"Battle?" Ramolous muttered, startled. "What battle? The Dragon Realms were supposed to occupy Delberi with no resistance and you were supposed to target Spyro, Cynder and the brat while their guard was down. There was not supposed to be a battle! What happened!"

"We put up no resistance, as you commanded, but the moment their forces were inside the city, they turned on the people and proceeded to butcher them. They even went so far as to tear down the Tower of Arganzark once they had their way with the people."

Ramolous's expression grew stark. "WHAT!" He bellowed, his stiffened body quivering in rage. "Those... Those foul beasts would do something so monstrous, so evil! I should have suspected! They are incarnations of the Dark Master himself! They dare call themselves heroes!"

Ramolous raged for a moment and then spat, shaking his head. "This is only proof of their malevolence and it will go far in convincing the council to follow my lead."

"Indeed, your majesty." Jaxar murmured, nodding as he stepped up to the prince, dusting off his robes. "I suppose a report would be in order. I shall prepare one right away. Duke Aromis was on his way here. He had left Delberi right before the attack. I certainly hope he arrives here safely."

"I can only hope the same." Ramolous hissed, his eyes flashing. "But knowing those brutes, they will try to intercept him and kill him." The black maned prince whirled on the sorcerer, who took a step back in surprise. "Send a contingent of soldiers to the duke and have them guide him to safety. His support and knowledge of the battle would be invaluable to our cause. With his account of what happened, my claims will be that much stronger."

Jaxar bowed. "It will be done."

"Excellent, now I'm off to prepare my speech, I will summon you tomorrow to give your report to the council. With any luck we won't have to keep our plans secret much longer."

---

Hunter prowled along through the densely packed leaves, high up in the great trees of the jungle, leaping from branch to branch as he made his way back to camp. The shimmering stars peeked through the small gaps in the leaves, peering down at the aged cheetah as he came to a halt at the edge of a clearing. Hunter took a moment to gaze down at the sprawling camp, speckled with hundreds of twinkling firelights, before jumping down, grabbing a thick vine to slow his descent. He dropped down into the tall grass on all fours and then rose, brushing himself off as he made his way into camp. He paused only to straighten his jerkin and lower his hood.

Hunter passed quickly through the troops, skipping past clusters of warriors as he made his way to the war tent. The cheetah nodded to the guards as he passed and slipped inside. The feline warrior was met with a chorus of muttering and grumbling from the assembled kings and Guardians, debating over their map. Off to the side, laying on a flap of canvas, Savron sulked, watching the talking with a dreary, defeated gaze. The Guardians and kings stopped as Hunter entered, bowing, and nodded in his direction.

"What news have you brought us?" Prowlus demanded of Hunter as he straightened, the feline king's eyes cool and hard. Hunter sighed, dropping his bow and moving to take a seat at a stool, before stopping, looking to Prowlus for permission. Prowlus nodded in ascent. Hunter relaxed, and gratefully settled himself on the stool.

"The ferans are in full retreat back to Grasbronda, they completely abandoned the city and everything in it. I tried locating the duke, but I had little success. The only thing I learned of him, was that he had left the city some thirteen hours before we had arrived in a large caravan. I assume he's made it to Grasbronda by now."

The assembly glanced at each other, nodding.

"It's as we thought then." Cynder said, nodding to the other Guardians. "He left long before the battle even started, no doubt leaving that sorcerer in charge."

"That means it's also likely he left all the decisions up to the wizard." Inferna affirmed, nodding thoughtfully. "Which means he is responsible for everything that happened during that battle."

"Which zerefore implies zat zah prince is somewhat, if not completely involved in what is happening." Albiard mused, idly tossing his hammer between his small, sturdy hands.

"Aye, it seems to be the case." Diatrax muttered, gazing over the map. "Though that begs the question of why the duke fled when we had sent him a peace offering. It is not like we had declared war on them."

The assembly fell silent for a moment, contemplating, and then Pyron spoke up.

"Enough speculation, it is time to make our plans for the coming engagement. That is our priority, not debating whether or not some half-breed sabotaged his own forces."

"Indeed, so what is our plan?" Cyrine inquired, gazing about the tent, his sharp eyes searching.

"Judging simply from my visit to Grasbronda several years back," Terrador rumbled, tapping the map. "the city is separated into two layers, one lower and one upper. The lower layer makes up the slums of the city, with next to nothing in terms of defenses. There are only meager walls, rudimentary fortifications and no siege weapons. However, what they lack in defenses, the upper layer makes up for in support." Terrador gestured to the upper region of the city.

"The upper level is situated a considerable hight above the slums and overlooks it entirely. This gives them an overwhelming advantage over us, since they will be capable of launching an attack from anywhere and everywhere. It will also be simple for them to have small squads of archers spread over the upper layer, to rain arrows down on us. We would be helpless against them as they make their own city a deathtrap. This will also destroy our arial forces, as they will be easy prey for the archers." Terrador glanced around at the others, his expression grim.

"All they'd have to do, is launch an attack on our weak points, devastate our troops and then retreat to the upper level while their archers cover them. This is not even considering the advantage they have as denizens of the jungle. They are far more prepared for this kind of warfare than we are and we will be hard pressed to gain any advantage over them."

"Aye." Diatrax agreed, nodding. "And the constant strain from the threat of arrows and ambushes will only exhaust our forces should we actually take the city. Not a favourable situation in the least."

"So, how do we counter this?" Cyril asked, puzzling over the situation at paw. "Doubtless there has to be a way to counter these advantages?"

The kings sat back, pondering while the Guardians glanced at one another, confused as to what to do.

"Why not just build some pyres under their trees, and pretend to light them?" Savron mumbled from off to the side. "They're not stupid, so they'll naturally have to respond."

Everyone turned to stare at the young purple dragon, shocked. Savron's gaze never left the ground as he toyed with the long grass.

"That... that's genius!" Inferna remarked, beaming. "It will force their paw! We can funnel them down to specific locations where we can ambush them! They will have no choice but to respond to the threat of their city burning, whether or not they know it's a trap."

"The pyres will have to be big." Prowlus mused, stroking his chin. "And we will need a lot of them."

"Have the soldiers go out to gather wood immediately!" Pyron ordered, padding from the tent to issue his commands to the messengers outside. "Lots of wood, and make sure it's dry too!"

Cynder turned to face Savron as the kings made preparations for their new course of action, and gave her son a proud smile.

"Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, you coming here."

Savron's head rose, and a good measure of pride welled up in his chest as Spyro ruffled his head with a paw, his two parents grinning down at him.

"Alright, we have our first act planned out, but we will need to work out more if we are to gain zee upper hand." Albiard grunted, slamming the head of his hammer down on the table.

"We will need to outline our plan of ambush." Prowlus murmured, eying the map critically. "And we will need to figure out a way to negate the threat of those arrows."

"Why not use some of those logs we are collecting to build some mobile shelters for the ones lighting the fires?" Cyril suggested. "And then soak them in water so that they cannot catch fire?"

"That could work, but it'll take some time to make them, as well as a great deal of wood to make enough of them to protect all those troops."

Savron lay back down, watching as the assembly brainstormed, jotting down ideas and discussing the merits of each individually. Hours passed before the collection of Guardians and Kings called in for the night, their plan set and ready for mobilization. Spyro and Cynder led Savron back to their tent, the young purple striding between the two as they moved. Savron glanced at his friends' tents as he passed them, wishing he could visit and tell them how his idea made it into the plan to take Grasbronda.

They arrived at their tent, a massive canvas building nearly three times the size of the group tents the foot soldiers were given. The three slipped inside, and Savron padded over to his small bedroll and plopped down, knowing that he was going nowhere tonight.

Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other and then at Savron, before shrugging and making their way to their own bedrolls. Savron gazed over at them as they settled in for the night, occasionally glancing over at him as if to make sure he was still there. Slowly, bit by bit, curiosity started to grow in the young purple, until he could hold it back no more.

"Mom?" Savron murmured, his head rising up to look at the black dragoness, curled up against Spyro's side.

"Yes Sav?" Cynder yawned, blinking tiredly as she glanced back over to her son.

"What... what happened your first egg?"

Cynder started, her emerald eyes flying wide with shock.

"How did! Where did you hear that!" Cynder glanced over to Spyro, horrified, and noticed his guilty expression. "You told him? Why!?"

"Because he deserved to know." Spyro murmured, rolling over to face Cynder. "He deserved to know he wasn't our first."

Cynder glanced between the two purples, her expressions slowly turning from outraged horror and indignation, to sadness. After a long moment, she sighed, nodding.

"I... I suppose you're right, Spyro. He did deserve to know."

"So can you tell me?" Savron asked, excitement peaking.

Cynder glanced over at Savron, expression pained. "I... I don't know..."

"Please mom!" Savron begged, rising to his paws. "You're the one who said I should be treated as an adult, so could you please keep to that promise!"

Cynder hesitated for a moment, and then, finally, nodded. "Fine, I'll tell you."

Savron sighed in relief, and sat down on his haunches as Cynder prepared herself, Spyro gazed at her with concern as she dug down deep for the memory.

...

The wind whistled cheerfully through the towers of the Temple, the midmorning sun beaming down on the lush, green landscape below. At the foot of the cliff, where the Temple was perched, a small, bustling village of Darrowlight was under construction. Dozens of houses being constructed in the shadow of the Dragon Temple, with only more being set up as pilgrims arrived.

Pilgrims from all over the realm moved through the budding gardens that flourished in the protective walls of the Temple, at peace with the world. Inside the Temple, the halls were filled with servants and well dressed dragons, cheerfully chatting about everything that came to mind. Among them, Spyro walked, head held high as he headed to the hatchery. Everyone around him moved out of his way, awed and humbled by the purple hero. Spyro ignored the wide eyed and whispering gawkers as best he could, trying to keep his expression natural in front of all his admirers.

Spyro slipped around a corner, and nodded to the guards standing in front of the hatchery, their large armour clinking as the metal clad dragons stood aside. Spyro pushed open the thick, metal doors, and gazed around, letting his grin break across his face. The hatchery was filled with eggs of all colours, green, blue, red, yellow, even some black eggs were seen here and there among the carefully constructed nests. Small, bronze plates were hammered into the stone pedestals where the eggs were kept, listing names and dates. Dragons stood by their eggs protectively as nurses tended to them, crooning and smiling as their small, round, precious babies were heated and shifted around in their nests.

Spyro's gaze fell upon the black form of Cynder, who stood with the Guardians by a pedestal in the center of the room. Spyro padded over, and nuzzled Cynder as he came to a stop beside her. The black dragoness smirked and nudged him back playfully.

"Is... Is it true?" Spyro murmured, his violet eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, I saw it move myself." Cynder grinned, ecstatic.

"Itshouldonlybe anotherweekorsonow." Volteer pipped in, bobbing his head up and down in excitement.

Spyro grinned at the exuberant Guardian and gazed down at the egg nestled into the warm hay. It was a brilliant, pale silver in colour, with faint, barely noticeable gold swirls dancing across its surface. It almost seemed to glow under the flickering light of the torches and for a moment, Spyro thought he saw it twitch.

"Oh, I'm so excited to find out what this fantastic, amazing and wondrous dragon will be able to do!" Volteer exclaimed. "I've never seen an egg like this before! Not in all my years as a Guardian, andI'veseenfivegenerationspass!"

"Stop acting so foolish, Volteer!" Cyril grumbled, rolling his eyes. "You're acting like it's your egg. Have some decency and let them be with their egg without your ceaseless prattle and fuss."

Spyro and Cynder chuckled as Volteer turned and threw an irritated retort into the Ice Guardian's face, Terrador rolled his eyes as Cyril replied back with equal venom, and the pair were off bickering once more. Terrador looked over at Spyro hopelessly and the purple dragon shrugged.

"Master Volteer, Master Cyril, would you be so kind as to move so I may tend to the egg?"

The two Guardians blinked and glanced down in surprise as an elderly red dragoness politely coughed, waiting patiently for the pair to move out of her way.

"I apologize, Ms. Merriella." Cyril murmured, bowing. The ruffled pair scooted out of the nurse's way. Merriella glided over to the pedestal, and bowed to Spyro and Cynder.

"My lord, my lady, you wouldn't object if I cleaned the nest, would you?" The crimson red dragoness asked, her six, orange horned head bobbing down in respect. Spyro and Cynder nodded and stepped back, allowing the nurse to gently lift the egg and place it securely in a satchel around her neck. She trotted over to a nearby pedestal and placed the egg gingerly into the soft nest, along side several other eggs. Merriella returned to the Guardians, and shooed them away, her green eyes glittering in amusement as they scattered before her. Then, the fire dragoness turned her eyes to the nest and began removing the straw.

Spyro, Cynder and the Guardians regrouped around the egg once more, grinning as the nurse maid busied herself with replacing the nest with fresher, cleaner straw.

"She really knows what she's doing." Cynder mused, watching Merriella go about her work.

"Indeed, though I'm grateful she came when she did." Inferna murmured, appearing beside the black dragoness. "There's a severe lack of proper nurses who can be trusted with this sort of delicate work."

The Guardians jumped at the Guardian of Flame's arrival and then, once they'd calmed down, nodded in agreement.

"Indeed we are fortunate to have her." Terrador agreed, gruffly. "We may be the Guardians, but we're too old and grizzled to properly handle eggs. Not nearly delicate enough to handle this type of work, especially with this special batch of eggs."

Terrador turned to look at the nest of eggs behind him, and the others glanced around as well. Sitting around the heroes' egg, were four other eggs, each wildly varying in colour. The first, and furthest away from the Heroes' silver egg, was a vibrant blue egg, it's hue misty and glossy, with wavering patters of white slashing through it. The second, and closest to Spyro's and Cynder's egg, was a depthless black with a faint, multi-coloured shimmer when the light hit it at just the right angle. Next to it was a dull, muddy red coloured egg with dark, black-brown splotches covered its shell. The cracks of red twisting between the splotches burned with red hot intensity. The final egg on the pedestal was a washed out blue, with swirling patters of icy white twisting around the egg, a frigid aura emanating from within.

"Yes, five Sub-Element eggs in a single batch." Volteer sighed, for the millionth time. "This generation will be positively astonishing, amazing, extraordinary even. I'm soeagertofindoutwhat thesehatchlingscando! Ifonlyitdidn'ttakeadecade forone'selementtoemerge!"

"It's a shame that all but two of these five are orphaned though." Inferna muttered, over Volteer's ranting, gazing over the small cluster of eggs. "This population boom is certainly taking its toll on the economy."

"Luckily they will be able to remain with us for tutelage." Cyril declared, gazing over the misty, fiery, black and frost coloured eggs. "And I feel strong magic from the this one, I know it." The ice dragon touched the last egg, feeling the cool energy radiating off of it. "It may not be a pure ice dragon, but it will be powerful in the ice element none the less, I know in the marrow of my bones."

Merriella strode past the Guardians and returned the silvery gold egg to its nest, carefully fluffing up the straw around it. Spyro and Cynder followed after her and nodded their thanks to the maid, who smiled and turned away. Merriella glided past the Guardians and stepped up to the nest the Guardians all stood around and exchanged there straw as well. The dragons watched as the elderly fire dragoness softly nudged each egg in turn as she replaced their nest, lingering slightly longer on the black egg, murmuring something unintelligible. Then, she turned and left the room, heading out for a short break.

"I remember hearing you all taking about that egg, but I don't think I remember the story behind it," Cynder whispered, half to herself, her emerald eyes turning to stare at the dark, shimmering egg Merriella had fawned over. "Was it one of the ones that was abandoned here?"

"Merriella said she found it on her doorstep," Inferna sighed and gave a weak smile as she turned to gaze at the egg. "I think she's taken a shine to it because of that. I think we should just let her adopt it once its hatched. She could use the company."

"Ah yes," Cyril gave a sad nod. "I understand completely, especially if what I heard about Miss Merriella is true."

"She was the maid of one of the noble families of Warfang, wasn't she?" Spyro asked with a curious frown, turning to face Cyril. "I remember you talking about that but if that's the case how did she end up here?"

Terrador gruffly cleared his throat. "Well, if the rumours I heard were true the family was torn apart during the war with Malefor. I think the Golem destroyed some of their estates and…"

"I can hear you whispering, you know," Merriella called from the other side of the hatchery, shutting the group up. A moment later Inferna gasped.

"I almost forgot!" Inferna said, suddenly, her head jerking up as she remembered why she had come. "Pyron just arrived and wishes to speak with all of you as soon as possible."

"Alright, thank you for informing us, Inferna." Terrador grunted, turning to the hatchery door and setting off. "I'll go greet his majesty and get him comfortable. Try not to take too long."

Spyro nodded, his demeanor calm. He glanced over at Cynder as the Guardians took their leave, and smirked. They turned back to their egg, and admired the gleaming silver sheen that radiated off of it. Spyro rested his head on Cynder's shoulder.

"I can't wait until it hatches." He whispered, dreamily.

"I wonder if it'll be a male, or a female?" Cynder replied, blissfully.

"What should we name it?" Spyro murmured, lifting his head to look up at Cynder.

"Hm... I'm not sure, what do you think?"

"Well, if it's a female, why not something like Nurii."

"Maybe... And what about male?"

"Well, I think..."

A sudden crash drowned out Spyro, and everyone jumped in shock. Cynder glanced around the room fearfully, hoping that none of the eggs were harmed. She sighed in relief upon seeing all the eggs safely cradled in their nests. The heroes, the maids and the visiting parents all rushed out the hatchery door, to find one of the guards helping up a fallen serving cheetah. The feline apologized profusely, desperately retrieving the fragments of the dishes that lay shattered on the ground.

Cynder sighed, both relieved and frustrated at the disturbance, and then shook her head, looking back over to her mate.

"Well, I suppose we should get going, they aren't going to wait for us forever."

Spyro nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, I suppose so."

They turned back to their egg and smiled down at it. Cynder leaned forward and nuzzled its lustrous, silver surface, and then padded out of the room. Spyro watched her go, and then gave the egg a soft nudge as well, grinning.

"Don't worry, we'll be back soon."

With that, the purple dragon made his way out of the hatcher, sauntering after his mate, and casting only a short glance backwards as he slid from the room.

...

Cynder rolled over on the massive piled of cushions, yawning tiredly. She blinked and opened her eyes, sniffing as she gazed around the dark room. The moon shone through the curtained window, and through the wafting drapes that shrouded the suspended bed she and Spyro slept upon. Cynder rose, stretching, and meandered tiredly over to the edge of the platform.

"Where yah going, Cyn?" Spyro murmured, blinking as he sat up, yawning widely. Cynder turned back to look at him, and smiled.

"I'm just going to check on the eggs, I'll be right back."

"But it's late, and we've already gone to see it nine times today." Spyro moaned, rolling over on his bed. "Can't it wait until tomorrow? It's not going anywhere."

Cynder sighed. "I'm just going to go see it, to make sure it's alright. I don't want to miss it hatching."

"It won't hatch while we're asleep." Spyro groaned, burying his head into the cushions. "The nurses would send a runner if it was." The purple dragon looked up, and sighed when he saw Cynder's resolute expression. "Fine, I'll keep the bed warm."

Cynder rolled her eyes, and glided down from the bed, landing at the entrance platform, just above the study. She exited the room and hastened through the halls, blinking away her exhaustion as she went. The corridors seemed to blur together in a long, dark mesh as Cynder tiredly padded down the stairs to the next floor, turning off into the hall that led to the Hatchery. The torches flickered lazily, casting deep, pools of shadows around Cynder, their low, orange light gleaming off of her scales.

Cynder yawned again and paused as an odd aroma caught her scent. It was sickeningly sweet, with a foul hint of iron permeating the air. Cynder sniffed again, confused. She recognized the scent, but wasn't sure from where.

A scream rent the air, and Cynder jumped in shock, her surreal exhaustion gone. She pounded down the hall and whipped around a corner, only to grind to a halt, her eyes flying wide in horror. A pair of young cheetah guards were pinned to the wall, impaled with long spikes of ice. Blood pooled on the ground around them. Just beyond the two, a flayed, roasted drake lay, his scales scorched clean from his body and his entrails were splayed across the ground, cooked to a golden brown.

Cynder felt bile rise in her throat and she just managed to keep herself from retching up her dinner. The doors to the hatchery were blown wide open and the only thing that remained of the two guards standing duty were the splashes of blood painting the walls, the bone fragments and molten piles of melted metal smoldering on the ground. From within the Hatchery, broken sobs tore at the dead air.

Cynder bolted to the door, and stopped, shaking. The hatchery was splattered with blood and yolk, brightly coloured shell fragments sticking to the walls like confetti. Albumen dripped through the nests, the floor flooded with egg white. Floating in the sea of death, small, half formed shapes bobbed, bloody and smashed, unrecognizable masses of flesh and blood. In the middle of it all, Merriella waded. The maid searched through the gore and ooze, tears pouring from her eyes as she searched the nest that once held the sub elemental eggs for egg shell fragments.

Cynder's stomach roiled, and, unable to hold herself back, was sick all over the floor. She wiped her muzzle, filled with a sense of utter horror at the sight before her. A sudden terror struck at her heart and she looked to the very center of the room, her eyes falling upon the empty pedestal that her egg had used to sit upon. Albumen dripped down it and bloody gore was splattered down the stone, mixing in with the egg yolk.

Cynder's heart stopped. Nothing came to her muzzle as she stared at the empty place her egg had been, the stench of the death filling her senses. A deep, empty nothingness filled her, and flashes of shadow creeped over her. Her vision swam as tears forced their way into her eyes, and she let out a short, broken sob.

"No." She whispered, shaking her head. "This... This can't be happening... This is a dream... A terrible, terrible dream..."

Cynder took a step into the room and flinched as the warm, slick fluid splashed over her paw. Nausea sent her reeling back, and she stared down at her shining paw in horror.

Cynder screamed. Tears flooded down her face as she flung herself into the room, ignoring the gore as she splashed through the tide of death, trying not to empty her stomach into the defiled remains of the unborn dragons. She moved to the pedestal, and desperately searched for any sign of the egg, her world spinning.

Distantly, Cynder heard shouts of shock and horror from the entrance of the hatchery, but she paid no mind to them as she frantically scoured the area for her egg. Cynder felt a paw grip her shoulder, and she pushed it away, her breathing labored.

"Come on, Cyn." A voice, strained whispered to the black dragoness. "Let's go and get you cleaned up."

"No." Cynder whimpered, pulling away. "NO! My egg is in there! We can't leave it! Please! Please!"

Spyro pulled her close, tears streaming down his face as he held her still, the Guardians rushing past to hel guide Merriella out of the room, the maid weeping and wailing. Spyro led Cynder away as she sobbed into his shoulder, fangs gritted together as he stared ahead, refusing to look back at the hatchery. Guards rushed past them to break up the growing crowd of crying parents, making room for a squad of sickened, mop bearing servants. The parents wailed as they were led off, trying to shove past the guards to run into the room, as the doors creaked slowly shut behind the servants, the smell of death drenching the Dragon Temple.

...

Savron sat, stunned as Cynder finished, hiccuping, beating back tears. Spyro lay beside her, whispering calming words into her earfrill, holding her tightly.

Savron tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. His chest aching, Savron rose an padded over to Cynder, laying down next to her comfortingly. Cynder sniffed, and nuzzled his head in thanks.

"Did... did they ever catch the one responsible?" Savron asked, hesitantly.

"No." Spyro answered, his fangs grinding together at the memory. "They found nothing. Nothing except a trail of bodies leading in and out of the Temple. Whoever did it wasn't trying to be subtle about it."

"As subtle as murdering the unborn can be." Cynder spat, fangs bared ferociously.

Spyro nodded in agreement, scowling. Savron glanced between the two of them, disheartened.

"I'm sorry I brought this up." The young purple sighed, looking away. "I probably shouldn't have..."

"No, you were right, you deserved to know."

Savron nodded sadly, gazing at the floor.

Cynder looked up at her son, and smiled weakly. Leaning over, she gave him a fond nuzzle, and licked his cheek.

"I'm sorry if I'm hard on you sometimes, but I just can't stand the thought of losing you. I only want what's best for you and sometimes it makes me go a little crazy."

Savron grinned, pushing Cynder's head away lightly with a paw. "I know mom, I know."

---

"Please! Let me out!" Lyrith wept, clawing at the closet door, his tiny paws scraping uselessly against the hard wood, tears filling his red eyes. From behind the door, the bullies laughed, chuckling at the Albino's sobs of despair as they flipped the latch shut, locking the door.

"And why would we do that, when it took so much effort to get you in there, runt!" Laughed the leader of the bullies. "I think you should take a nice little nap in there for a while, cool off from all the work Mother had you do."

"Yeah, aren't we so nice, you don't have to worry about all those back breaking chores now, leave them to real dragons, like us."

"P... Please," The small white dragonling whimpered, rubbing at his eyes. "Let me out!"

The dragons on the other side of the door just laughed, and turned away, their paw steps slowly fading away, leaving Lyrith in the dark of the closet. His muffled, weak cries echoing through the empty halls, barely heard through the thick planks of the door as they grew weaker, and weaker...

Lyrith jerked up, his eyes wide. He glanced frantically around the room, trying to determine his surroundings, only to find impenetrable darkness surrounding him. He felt his heart clench and he stumbled to his paws and took a slow step forward. The white dragon bumped into a wall. Lyrith's breathing accelerated and he took several steps back, only to feel his rear bump against another wall. An agonizing thirst swept over him and he clutched at his throat. Lyr felt around for the leaky closet pipe he had used to sustain himself, only to find it was gone.

"Where am I?" Lyrith shivered, looking around. He listened, hoping to hear the sound of someone passing by the closet, for him to call out to, but there was no sound. "Is anyone out there?" Lyrith shouted, banging on the door. The white dragon flinched as his paws smashed into the metal doors, spikes of pain stabbing into him. Lyrith blinked, he had been sure the door was made of wood.

"Ah shut it!" A gruff, angry voice spat from behind the door, and Lyrith jerked back, his heart leaping. Then, a sudden cold swept through him as the slider on the door slid open and a panther glared through. Sudden confusion swelled up in Lyrith as the light pierced his eyes and then flooded away as memories resurfaced from under the cloud of fear. The Temple. The journey to Dellberie. The battle. The blood dragon. The Sorcerer.

Lyrith crouched, eyes flickering from side to side, seeing his surroundings for the first time. He was locked in a small cell of stone bricks. A thick, iron door was barred shut, with a tiny slot to look through. Moss grew along the stone walls and creeped across the floor and ceiling, droplets of water pattering on the ground in a bucket in the corner. Judging from the smell emanating from the bucket, Lyrith could tell it hadn't been cleaned since it was last used.

The panther grunted, satisfied that the prisoner was finished and slid the slot shut once more, leaving Lyrith in darkness. Lyr was still for a moment, a shiver running down his spine as he realized what had happened and then slowly sat, his gaze falling to the floor, searching the darkness blankly. The white dragon took long, deep breaths, combatting the cold vice of terror filling him, his mind racing trying to understand why he was still alive and locked away in the enemy prison to boot. A strange thought crossed his mind and he glanced down at his body, and blinked as he felt himself over.

"Why am I not injured?" He murmured to himself, feeling himself over, trying to find some sign of a wound. "The last thing I remember, I was cooked and cut open like a turkey dinner. How am I...?"

A sudden rustled of sound drew the white dragon's attention and he glanced up, his red eyes blazing. He heard the grunt of the guard outside, followed by the rattle of a key in the lock. Lyrith steadied himself, a low growl emanating from his throat as the door swung open. He started back in shock as Travix stepped through.

"You." Lyrith hissed, his eyes narrowing as he took in the figure of the blood dragon as the it came to a stop by the door. Travix rolled his eyes, snorting.

"Yesh, me. Now if you'd shtop gawking, I'd appreshiate it you came wish me."

Lyrith glared at the drake, his muscles tense, ready to pounce.

Travix glowered at the Albino, standing stiffly at the entrance. "Thish would go eashier if you cooperated."

"What do you want with me?" Lyrith demanded, his red eyes burning. Travix rolled his eyes once more.

"It'sh not like you're in a posishion to ashk queshtions, and it'sh not like I know the anshwers ash it ish. If you want anshwers, then your besht bet would be to come wish me, and see my mashter."

Lyrigh continued to glare at Travix, not moving an inch. Travix grumbled, and shuffled out the door. Half a second later, the panther came in, his sword draw in one hand, a long chain in the other. Travix's head peered in through the door, his expression coy.

"I will giff you thish one lasht chance, Albino, come now or come in chainsh."

Lyrith was silent for a moment and then grunted, cautiously moving forward towards the door. The panther warden sneered and stepped out of the way as the white dragon padded past him. Lyrith came to a halt in front of the blood dragon and glared up at the monsterous drake. Travix huffed, and turned away making his way down the hall. Lyrith followed after, not glancing back as the panther shut the cell and retook his seat beside the door.

Lyrith examined the cold, damp stone hall as they turned a corner, his eyes wandering over the stacks of crates and sacks. A deep, cold anger had replaced the fear and he found his gaze returning to the blood dragon, his muzzle peeling back over his fangs as the memory of their battle returned to him.

They came to a halt at a large iron door, where a pair of drowsy Feran guards stood. Travix coughed impatiently and the pair of guards snapped to attention, quickly opening the door, their gazes fearful. Travix sneered and stepped in, his head raised high. Lyrith hesitated, and then followed the blood dragon in, and flinched as a blinding violet light lanced into his eyes. Lyrith blinked rapidly, and looked up, jumping as the door slammed shut behind him.

"Take a seat." The figure sitting at the table in the center of the room murmured, gesturing Lyrith to come forward. Lyr squinted, slowly adjusting to the brilliance after the darkness of his cell and took a cautious step forward. He stumbled to a halt and stared at the figure, shocked and appalled by what he saw. The figure's disfigured face beamed over to him, his sunken eyes glittering behind the purple hood that shrouded his face.

Jaxar glanced between Lyrith and his staff, where the egg shaped crystal blazed brilliantly. He raised an eye brow, realizing the effect it was having on Lyrith and threw a cloth over it, blanketing its radiance.

Lyrith rubbed at his eyes with his paws and then looked up at the pair, glaring. Jaxar gestured for Lyrith to sit down on the cushion set at the table he and Travix sat at. Lyrith stared at the two suspiciously, jaw set firmly. Jaxar smiled at him, his crooked fangs gleaming yellow in the faint light of his staff.

"Don't worry, I have no intention of harming you, especially not after going to so much trouble to ensure you'd survive."

"Why?" Lyrith growled, his fangs bared.

"Why what?" Jaxar grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"Why did you save me?" Lyrith hissed, his eyes flashing. "You had no reason to heal me. Why?"

"Oh I have my reasons." Jaxar chuckled, shaking his head. Lyrith snarled at the sorcerer, flexing his claws angrily.

"You know, you look just like your mother when you do that." Jaxar whispered, cocking his head as he examined the Albino thoughtfully.

Lyrith's muzzle fell open in astonishment, his eyes wide in shock as he stared at the sorcerer.

"What... did you say?" Lyrith asked hesitantly.

Jaxar smiled, and leaned forward onto the table. "Hm? Oh, that you look a lot like your mother? Surprised? You definitely resemble them, though more your mother than your father."

Lyrith stared for a moment, and then plopped down on the cushion indicated.

"You... You knew my parents?" Lyrith asked, a sudden, strange hope swelling up in him, banishing all else from his mind.

"You could say we're... acquainted." Jaxar said, nodding.

"Who are they? Why did they abandon me? How..."

Jaxar raised his hands, gesturing for Lyrith to cease his sudden explosion of questions.

"Settle down, I'll answer those questions in time, for now how about we introduce ourselves." Jaxar cleared his throat, and brushed down his robes. "I am Jaxar, sorcerer and advisor to the feran prince, Ramolous. This is my apprentice, Travix."

Lyrith looked between them, his jaw clenching momentarily as his gaze fell upon Travix. "I'm Lyrith."

"Lyrith... What a fitting name... Well, I would like to apologize for the rudeness of our first meeting, Lyrith. I was still under the influence of battle frenzy and seeing my apprentice in danger, I acted out as I saw necessary. I only recognized who you were when I got up close. I would also like to apologize for leaving you in that cell. My master was concerned that you might try and cause trouble, so he arranged for the cell."

Lyrith grunted, his expression furrowing in disbelief at the sentiment. Jaxar's grin wavered slightly upon seeing Lyrith's face and he coughed.

"Of course I doubt you'd accept our apology. After what you've been through it's perfectly understandable. Now then, back to business then. I'm sure you're wondering why we saved you."

Lyrith nodded, his expression still cold. Jaxar pushed back his hood and pulled down the front of his robe, revealing a gold circlet bound around his neck.

"You see this? This is a binding necklace, it holds me bound to a certain person, to ensure that I cannot betray their will. It is frequently used on court sorcerers to ensure we don't go... astray."

"And you want it off." Lyrith snorted. "I don't see how I can be of any help then. As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm rather lacking in the magic department."

Jaxar laughed. "Yes to all accounts, but that does not necessarily have to be the case."

Lyrith raised an eyeridge curiously.

"You see, your father was a dragon of great power, respected and even feared by others. It is a shame you did not inherit his powers. But his blood is yours, so it is entirely possible to unlock that potential, with a little help of course."

Lyrith blinked, then his eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you proposing?"

Jaxar coughed, and drew his hood up again. He reached over to the top of his staff and gave the shrouded crystal topping it a twist. The incandescent, egg shaped purple crystal popped off the top of the oak staff, and Jaxar let the rod fall to the ground, placing the covered stone on the table.

"Well, my master has had me working on a crystal that will give him immeasurable power, power enough to destroy even the purple dragons. However, I fear that he intends to be rid of me and my apprentice once he has that power, in order to ensure that the only ones who knew the workings of the crystal would be gone and therefore unable to expose its weaknesses. But, say I gave you its power, instead of my master. From what I've gathered, you were here with the Dragon Realm's army, so surely you wish to repay him for what he did to the Dragon Temple? He was responsible for it after all."

"And in exchange, you'll have me remove the binding charm?" Lyrith guessed, nodding to the now covered circle of gold.

Jaxar nodded jovially, grinning widely. "Yes! Precisely! You gain the power you should have inherited, the one responsible for the war is dead and nobody will ever call you an Albino again. It's a win-win scenario for both of us!"

Lyrith's eyes narrowed, and he stared at Jaxar, no sure what to think.

"There has to be a catch."

"Well... It will be unbearably painful, not to mention that your physique will drastically change, from scale colour, to eye colour to muscle mass..."

Lyrith pursed his muzzle, considering the situation. "That's it?"

"Essentially." Jaxar shrugged. "There may be some other side effects, it is, after all, an experimental crystal."

Lyrith was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the covered crystal transfixed by its glow.

"And what of my parents? You said you would tell me about them."

"That I did." Jaxar said, smiling. "I don't doubt you are anxious to learn of them. If you take the crystal, I'll tell you everything you want to know about them. Think of it as a bonus."

Lyrith glanced up at the two, looking between them. Jaxar's expression was pleasant, with a trace of excitement creasing his brow. A hand tugged at his collar, where the necklace wound around his neck. Travix sat still, leaning back on his cushion. His expression was blank, his gaze flickering between his master and Lyr, with the occasional flicker of emotion crossing his face. Lyrith swallowed, and nodded.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Jaxar's grin split his face, revealing his crooked fangs. "Excellent! All you need to do is put your paws on the crystal and clear your mind, the power should flow right into you. Remember, it will be excruciatingly painful, but it won't last too long."

The sorcerer pulled the cloth from the crystal, and all three flinched as the light blazed forth, spiking into their eyes. Lyrith swallowed again, and reached forward tentatively with a claw, his limb shaking in anticipation.

Lyrith's heart pounded a staccato beat, a flood of emotions racing through him, excitement, fear, and hope rising like a tide in his chest. Flashes of memories ripped across his vision, causing the white dragon's fangs to grind together as his claw inched towards the heart of all his dreams.

A small white dragonling, beaten and humiliated, laughed at by the other orphans. Lyrith, staring through a window at a happy family, eating their meal as the snow fell, piling up around the small Albino. Sitting, starving in a closet for days, waiting for someone to remember his existence, sucking on a leaking pipe to sustain himself.

"I'll show them, I'll show them all." Lyrith thought, his eyes blazing, rage filling him. "I won't be that weak, pathetic Albino ever again. I'll be able to find my parents and show them their mistake in abandoning me! They'll regret leaving me in an orphanage just because they thought I was worthless!"

Jaxar gripped his staff in both hands, his enthusiastic eyes gleaming as Lyrith's shaking claws neared the stone, the white dragon preparing himself for the pain. Lyrith's claws hovered over the stone and he glanced up at the sorcerer, his eyes skimming over their faces. His eyes widened as they fell upon Travix, who leered at the white, his predatory expression triumphant. The blood dragon's expression changed to eager excitement a moment later, but the damage had been done.

Lyrith's emotion clouded mind cleared, finally recognizing the danger. Snarling, he raised his paw and struck the crystal from the table with a powerful swing. Bolts of dark energy lashed out from the crystal as Lyr's paw came in contact with it, wrapping up his limb and burning into his scales. Lyrith reared back, eyes flying wide, his muzzle opened in a silent "oh" as it burned into him and he collapsed, convulsing.

Jaxar screamed in shock and rage as the crystal flew across the room, and slammed into the wall, falling to the ground with a crack. The sorcerer raced over to it and fell to the ground, desperately checking to make sure it had not damaged. Travix rose and pounced on the white dragon, smashing him in the stomach with a paw. Lyrith, writhing in agonized ecstasy, gasped as his breath left him, his vision darkening as the blazing sensation faded, leaving an odd numbness tingling over his body.

The door burst open, and the feran guards stormed in, they took one look at the blood dragon pinning the Albino to the floor, and hastened to them, chains in paws. They quickly bound the unmoving white and dragged him from the room. Travix glanced over to Jaxar, who had replaced the crystal atop his staff. The half-breed turned and glared at Travix, his eyes cold.

Travix swallowed hard, and followed after the guards, slamming the door behind him.

Lyrith grunted as he was tossed unceremoniously back into his cell, hissing as the chains dug into him. He looked up, dazed as Travix appeared at the door, glowered down at the Albino.

"Maybe a couple daysh in the dark will help you rethink your dechishion." Travix sneered, eyes flashing. "Oh yesh, and here'sh a little gift." The blood dragon produced a sack from beside the door and tossing it in. Lyrith jumped to his paws in horror as the sack split open and a swarm of paw sized red spiders spilled out, skittering frantically on the ground.

Travix laughed at Lyrith's expression and shut the door, leaving the Albino trapped in the darkness. "I don't recomend moving too much, they're skitish... and poisonesh."

...

Jaxar glided out of the room, and down the hall towards his laboratory, one fist clenched around his staff, the other at his side, sparks of electricity arcing across his clenched fist. His red-orange eyes staring coldly out from under his cowl. His staff clunked on the ground with each step, an erie, cold anger emanating from the sorcerer in waves as the crystal's brilliant light slowly faded to a dim glow. He reached the door at the end of the hall, and burst through it, the door slamming into the cellar walls.

A feran messenger looked up from where he sat in the lab, and stood, bowing to the purple clad magician.

"Ah, my lord, Ramolous requests that you..."

Jaxar sneered, and flicked his wrist, hurling a bolt of lightning at the feran. The arc of white lightning struck the feran in the chest, who exploded violently, showering the room with blood and chunks of charred flesh. Jaxar's face was cold and empty as he strode past the pile of gore, that was once the feran messenger. He stopped in the center of his lab and looked around, gazing at the array of potions and vials around him. The cloaked half-breed inhaled deeply, a stiff smile etched onto his face. He casually raised his staff, and tapped its butt to the ground. A blast of force ripped through the room, tearing up the flagstones and shattering the glass jars and vials. The tables were blown back, splintering under the force of the explosion and toppling over. Jaxar grinned humuorlessly at the wreckage he had caused and closed his eyes, his thin form stiff as a board.

"M... Mashter?"

Jaxar turned to face Travix, who anxiously peered into the lab, his eyes wide. Jaxar sneered and raised his hand, gesturing for the blood dragon to come closer. Travix's eyes flew open as he was forcibly dragged across the room by an unseen force He ground to a stop in front of Jaxar, who reached out and gripped Travix by the throat with one hand. The half-breed heaved the fully grown dragon off of the ground and held him there, his face grimly sardonic. Travix gagged, and shook as he was strangled, his tail lashing the ground helplessly. Jaxar snorted at his actions, and tossed Travix away, sending the black and red dragon soaring across the room. Travix hit the wall on the other side of the room with a crash, the stone wall crumbling under the force of the impact. Travix collapsed to the ground, whimpering in pain.

"You know, I've been planning for this moment for well over five years." Jaxar said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed the necklace around his neck, and tore it off, hurling it to the ground. "I've worked, studied, prepared, trained our subjects and when we finally get a clean shot at achieving our goals, you break composure and FUCK EVERYTHING UP!"

"I... I'm shorry, mashter!" Travix whispered, covering his head with his paws, desperately trying to shelter himself from the sorcerer's fury. "I... It won't happen again..."

"No, it won't!" Jaxar hissed, whirling to face his apprentice, struggling to contain his fury. "Because the subject has to be willing to accept the crystal, it can't be forced on them! We finally find the one dragon who could have accepted its full power and you ruin it! Now we will likely have to let that brat of a feran use it, and even after years of grooming, only a fraction of it will be able to successfully transfer to him! And with the one so close, that seems like hardly a viable option!"

Travix cowering as Jaxar raged, swinging his staff around him, striking out at everything in his reach. Finally, after several minutes of stomping around the room and grumbling, Jaxar took a deep breath, and calmed himself.

"Travix." Jaxar sighed, turning his gaze back to his apprentice. "Go tell the prince that I will be late for his meeting. I need to regain my composure. I am in no state to speak before an audience."

The black and red dragon looked up and nodded, clambering to his paws, grateful for an excuse to escape his master's barely contained rage. Jaxar watched as the dragon raced out of the room, and then turned away. He moved across the ruined room, and pushed away a pile of broken furniture, shifting through the wreckage. He huffed, and stood back, having cleared a space on the floor, revealing a small trapdoor set into the ground. He tapped it with his staff and it lifted open. Jaxar stepped in and glided down the hatch, the door snapping shut after him.

Jaxar landed on the ground, a soft carpet of hay covering the stone ground. The sorcerer dusted his robes off, and laid his staff against the wall, then he looked around, taking in his surroundings.

The room was small, and cramped, racks of tools lining the wall, from hooks, to tweezers. In the center of the room, an oak table was set, a line of bloody, rusted tools were placed along the table edge. Bound on the table, paws in chains, was a small feran dragoness. Her torso had been split open, hooks and strings kept the incision open, so the flesh would not try to seal once more. The feraness's crimson hide had been peeled away and was now stretched out on a tanning rack on the opposite side of the room.

From within a small cell set into the wall, a fully grown feraness lay, weeping softly, streaks running down her face where endless tears had flown. Jaxar clapped his hands together, and glided over to the table and looked down at the skinned and gutted feraness, frowning in disapointment.

"Hm, it appears she died while I was away. A pity."

"YOU MONSTER!" The feraness screamed from behind the bars, rising, her face contorted in horrified fury. "YOU'LL PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO LESSIE AND GORGULLINE! I SWEAR IT! I'LL RIP OUT YOUR HEART AND FEED IT TO YOU THROUGH YOUR..."

Jaxar ignored the mother's screams, and proceeded to unbind the dead feranling, and drag her off the table. He tossed her remains into a small pit and then with a flick of his hand, set her tortured body aflame. The bright flames rapidly ate away the dragonling, leaving nothing but ashes and charred bones. Jaxar swept the ashes into a small pile, and swept it and the bones into a small sack, whistling tunelessly all the while. Once he had finished, Jaxar turned back to the table, and took a rag from a bucket of water, and started to wipe the table down, still whistling.

The feraness's curses had stopped, and she stood, falling to the straw laden floor, sobbing helplessly as Jaxar cleaned the tools, placing them carefully on a tray. Finally finished with his preparations, Jaxar turned back to the cell, and paced forward, a pleasant smile creasing his face.

"Now then, my dear, how are you doing?"

The feraness glowered as he came to a stop, and knelt down to look her in the eyes. She spat in his face.

Jaxar raised a hand, and wiped away the spittle, his expression never changing. "Now now, no need to be so rude."

"Go choke on an ape's spear you mangled foul-born malt worm!"

Jaxar raised an eye brow. "My my, you have spirit." He murmured appreciatively. He rose, and reached over to a table, grabbing a ring of keys. He started shifting through the keys, looking for the right one, muttering as he moved up to the lock. The feraness watched him close in, her eyes dark. Once he was right up against the bars, she snarled and leapt to her paws, releasing a blast of red energy at the sorcerer. Jaxar started as the fear fury hit him and he dropped the keys, taking a step back.

The feraness snatched up the key ring and jingled through it, finding the key to the cell she was in. She had just inserted the key when a sickening snap caught her attention and she glanced up. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw the sorcerer twist his broken finger back into place, not even uttering a sound of pain. He looked up, his face expressionless, the fear fury having been shattered by his self mutilation. She took a step back, shivering in terror as Jaxar reached into the cell, turning the key, which was still in the lock. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The feraness roared and desperately threw herself at him, only to be struck down by a blast of force. She struggled as bonds of air wrapped around her, pinning her limbs to her sides. Jaxar clucked his tongue disapprovingly, and lifted her up by the mane, dragging her out of the cell.

"That was quite the good attempt, at least at first, but you panicked right at the end, ruining it. Had you not struggled and waited until you were out of the cell, you might have been able to strike me down while I was trying to bind you to the table. Unfortunately I'm rather experienced, so even that probably wouldn't have worked, but it would have been your best bet."

He tossed the bound dragoness onto the table and bound her to the table, releasing the binding magic on each limb individually. Jaxar stepped back once he was done, and surveyed his workplace. The feraness struggled against her bonds, spread eagle on the table, wings and legs stretched out uncomfortably to the table edges. The half-breed sighed and wiped away the sweat of exertion beading on his forehead with the hem of his robe, and then turned to the tray, picking out his tools. Jaxar turned back to her with a spade in one hand and a tuning fork in the other, a small, honey-sweet smile creasing his face, his sunken eyes cold and empty.

"Don't struggle too much, my dear, that will only make things much, much worse."

Characters created by Dardarax:

Savron's gang: (Savron, Igneous, Typhous, Sleet, Lyrith, Tirren, Danrah, Vash, Voltlyn.)

Jaxar, Travix, Ramolous.

Inferna.

Pyron, Diatrax, Cyrine, Albiard.

Merriella (even though this will be her only appearance in Dark Legacy. xP )

Sorry about how long this chapter took, but with a ton of stressful essays coming in, I simply could not bring myself to work on this chapter. I did actually have it done about a month ago, but it apparently was tangled in some parts and I needed a break so I could take a step back and look it over with a fresher, less stressed mind. Over all I'm glad I did. :P

Well, I guess you can all see why I've said this chapter was so important now, right? There was a lot in there, though the two major scenes (you know which ones) were obviously the most important. This chapter will only be challenged by chapter 30 in terms of importance, though each is important in different ways (I think 30 is slightly more important however. =/ ). Don't worry though, this won't become a theme of my chapters. This chapter will probably be about the worst it gets, at least in terms of visual horror.

Had some trouble with the title. It was originally going to be labeled "Revelations," but I decided against using such a cliched title, despite how well if would have fit the plot of this chapter. Exposure works just as well however, since it also implies the physical element, which is ever so slightly meaningful in this chapter. ;P

Oh, yes, do you remember way back in chapter 24, when I said there was a hidden, subliminal message in the chapter? There wasn't one. xD Sorry to all of you who wasted extensive amounts of time looking for it, but you really shouldn't have taken me seriously. xP

This is a fairly long author's note, isn't it? I'm really just extending it long past the point where it is welcome, like a guest that you invited over, but are tired of now and you want to leave, but are too polite to ask. Like a... okay, now I'm doing it on purpose. x3 Hope you enjoyed the chapter. ^^

Edit: November 2nd 2012

Holy crap. Slevah was right. There were so many typos scattered throughout the later portion of this chapter. :S I'm shocked and appalled by how I was completely incapable of seeing them. Jebers. Well, most of them should be gone now, so at least that was cleared up.