Look! An update! :D
Kind of mixed feelings about this one. I'm happy with a lot of it, but at the same time when I was finished with it it kind of felt like I had lumped quite a few things together and made it a bit longer than it needed to be. I don't know. It's out of the way, at least, and it's one chapter closer to the really exciting parts in this story. I'm really looking forward to it.
Hope you enjoy.
Chapter 26: Recovery
It was abnormally quiet within the corridors of Warfang's Temple, the usual soft scuffle of dragon paws and mole feet on the polished stone absent at the present time. It was strange—since learning of the Eastern City's fall to the wraiths, the ancient stone structure had almost constantly been bustling with activity, whether it be from the Guardians, Mason, one of his two dragon captains, or a host of others ranging from soldiers to officials. At present, however, the halls were still and empty.
Terrador glanced toward his window, realizing with a small start that it was well into the night already. Had the time really passed that quickly? It seemed like only moments ago that he had retired from the Great Hall after his evening meal and returned to his chambers to work.
He shook his head, turning his gaze upon the Guard reports that he had been poring over. Mason had delivered them earlier in the day, and Terrador had been using the subsequent time to catch up on the current state of their Guard forces. Their present strength was greater than it had ever been following the war with Malefor, but the Guardian feared that against an entrenched army of wraiths it would be inadequate. Worse, their less-than-promising discussions with the Greater Races to date seemed to indicate that finding an ally to help them in this fight would be challenging.
There were the moles, of course, but their numbers were already included in the Guard reports so they went without saying. The cheetahs would seem to be a safe bet, but with their leader currently away to meet with the other Feline Tribes there was no guarantee that they would be in a position to help now. Even if they could, a decision could take time. Hunter had sent a falcon to Prowlus carrying the Guardians' request for help, but there was no telling what his answer would be and it would be a number of days before they found out.
The elder earth dragon groaned, dragging a forepaw across his brow. Deciding that some fresh air might do him some good, he rose from his cushion and padded through his doorway into the hall. Despite his impressive physical stature, his pawsteps were muffled and posed no risk of disturbing any of his colleagues.
Terrador soon found himself stepping out into the chilled night air, the walls of the corridor falling away when he emerged on the top step of the building's main entranceway. He drew to a surprised halt almost immediately, however. He wasn't alone. Sirius turned his head to look over his shoulder when he heard the larger dragon behind him, and surprise briefly flashed across his expression as well.
"What are you doing awake at such a late hour?" Terrador asked, moving up beside the fire dragon.
Sirius gave a veiled smirk. "I could ask you the same, Terrador."
The Earth Guardian offered a small grin in return, but he gave no answer. Sirius exhaled slowly, and his eyes turned up toward Ignitus's memorial torch. The light of the crystal flame illuminated a small circle with a warm red glow, and the younger fire dragon seemed to be seeking comfort from it.
"I'm worried about home," he said. "I can't stop wondering what the wraiths are doing to the people there."
"Hmm," Terrador grunted. "Then it appears that our reasons for being awake are the same. Take heart, though. Captain Pyruth told us that the wraiths had taken the city in secret. As long as they have the Elders' cooperation I do not believe that they will want to risk exposing themselves. So long as this is the case, I would be willing to bet that no one else will come to any serious harm."
Sirius looked up at his mentor again, his eyes large and questioning. Terrador maintained the most confident expression he could, knowing the struggle his younger colleague was facing as he searched for hope. At length Sirius lowered his gaze and nodded slowly, his wings sagging.
"I just wish I knew why," he said. "I feel so powerless not even knowing what the purpose for all this is. Nexus was adamant that he and Spyro were Ragnor's main targets, so why send the wraiths to a city that they aren't even in? Why take the Eastern City instead of trying to take control of Warfang itself?"
"I have wondered that as well," Terrador sighed. "At first I considered the possibility that the wraiths were trying to draw us out, but why would Ragnor and the wraiths repeat a strategy that Nexus already attempted and that proved ineffective? I cannot see an answer."
"Then what do we do?"
Terrador was silent for a long moment, his mind returning to the sea of questions that had driven him to seek this reprieve from his chambers in the first place. It seemed that there was no reply that he could give, and Sirius sagged even further in disappointment, but it was then that a thought struck the elder dragon. His head perked up, and the movement didn't go unnoticed by the other Guardian.
"It seemed to me like Captain Pyruth didn't get to finish his account of what happened in the Eastern City before the healers ordered that he get time to rest. If he still has more to say then it may give us some clues as to how to proceed."
The idea of waiting until morning to potentially find the answers they were looking for wasn't the most appealing to either of them, but Terrador took some solace in the fact that they had a plan, however small. He could tell by the way that Sirius fidgeted beside him that he wasn't as content with this development, but he couldn't blame him for that. He drew in a long breath of the cool night air, hoping to calm the lingering turmoil inside of him. A clear, level head was necessary to advance in this crisis.
The sound of a foot scuffing against the courtyard's sandstone tiles drew Terrador's gaze to the left. A moment later he caught sight of a mole entering the circle of light cast by Ignitus's memorial. He advanced straight toward the two Guardians, and Terrador arched a brow curiously.
"Master Terrador, Master Sirius," the mole said, bowing his head. "I was hoping you would be awake."
Slightly surprised but keeping it from registering in his expression, Terrador asked, "What can we help you with?"
"I've just come from the infirmary," the mole explained. "Captain Pyruth was just declared fully recovered. Normally a discharge would have waited for the morning, but he has been insistent that it be at the earliest time possible, and now he is asking to speak with you."
Terrador faltered, exchanging a glance with Sirius. A second later he cleared his throat and turned back to the mole.
"Thank you. We will be right there."
The mole bowed again and departed down the steps, leaving the two dragons in silence. Once he had gone, Sirius looked up at the Earth Guardian with a bemused expression.
"Well, that's eerily convenient timing."
"Indeed," Terrador rumbled. "We had best not keep the captain waiting, then."
Sirius nodded, and together the two Guardians rose to their paws and strode into the darkened streets. They encountered scarcely a soul on their trip, the streets all but deserted around them, and with the lack of interruptions they had reached their destination in short order. The open door of the infirmary cast a warm orange glow into the street, welcoming the two dragons as they approached.
A mole attendant greeted them and directed them to the room occupied by the other Eastern City guard, Shade, which was where Pyruth was currently. They found him sitting beside his fellow Guard's bed. For a brief moment Terrador was struck by the realization that the crimson dragon wasn't wearing his armour, making this the first time he had ever seen him without it. He almost looked like a different dragon entirely without the polished silver plates covering his frame, but his eyes held the same disciplined severity they always did and made him instantly recognizable.
"Master Sirius," the captain said quickly when the Guardians entered, a look of surprise flashing across his expression. "Master Terrador. When I inquired about anyone being available to speak to I wasn't expecting anyone to come so quickly."
"It's no trouble, captain," Terrador assured him with a faint smile. "We were awake anyway." His eyes turned toward the shadow dragon laying on top of a thin bed of cushions, noticing quickly that his eyes were open and fixed upon the new arrivals. "Corporal Shade. I am glad to see that you have regained consciousness. You had the healers here worried for a good while."
The black dragon offered a strained smirk, nodding his head appreciatively, and Terrador easily picked up on the weakness betrayed by the movement. He was conscious, but he obviously hadn't recovered from his injuries yet.
"Thank you, Master Terrador," Shade said. His eyes then turned to the other Guardian, and the smirk disappeared. "And I'm sorry for our failure to defend the Eastern City, Master Sirius."
The younger red dragon waved a paw reassuringly. "I know the Guard did everything they could. I'm just grateful that the two of you were able to reach us to tell us what happened. How are you feeling now?"
"The corporal is still suffering the effects from the blow to the head he received from the wraiths," Pyruth declared, perhaps to spare his subordinate from the effort of explaining himself. "The healers said he was lucky it didn't kill him."
"I've always been told I was stubborn," Shade snorted with another grin, but it faded with a wince. "The wraiths aren't getting me that easily."
Terrador allowed a trace of a smile to appear at the corner of his muzzle, but he quickly turned his attention to Pyruth as he remembered the reason they had been summoned. "So, what is it you wished to tell us, captain?"
Pyruth straightened, becoming all business in the blink of an eye. "I wanted to complete my report about the Eastern City's conquest by the wraiths. You know of its fall and the casualties we sustained in the battle, but there are other details that I believe you should be made aware of."
"Let's hear it, then," Terrador prompted, settling back onto his haunches. Sirius did likewise beside him.
"As I already mentioned, the city's defeat was invisible to the public eye. As far as they and the Guard are all aware, the wraith attack was successfully repelled. The only ones who appear to be aware of the wraiths' foothold there are the elders themselves, who are being used by the wraiths to control the city."
"How?" Sirius asked, frowning. "My father and I have known the rest of the elders for years. None of them are the type to yield to threats."
Pyruth nodded once. "No, they are not. Not threats to their own lives, at least. However, after my orders from Elder Squall roused my suspicions I...I listened in on a conversation he had with someone that met him in his chambers. I didn't see who it was, but from what they said it sounded as if they were threatening to raze the city to the ground if any of the elders resisted their control. They have yielded to the wraiths in order to protect the lives of everyone else still in the city. However..."
The captain's gaze fell, his sharpened claws scraping against the tiled stone floor. Terrador leaned forward.
"What is it, captain?"
"Given that the wraiths were unable to prevent myself and Corporal Shade from reaching Warfang, they will know that their secret is out. I fear what they may be doing to the city in response."
Shade growled faintly, looking between his captain and the Guardians with clear agitation. Terrador glanced toward Sirius to see that his jaw had clenched and he had fear shining in his eyes. He tried his best to subdue the swell of apprehension in his own gut.
"We shouldn't jump to any conclusions," he said at length. "According to the information Nexus has given us, the wraiths and Ragnor are patient and meticulous in their actions. I wouldn't be surprised if they saw value in keeping the city intact and under their control rather than destroying it."
Pyruth nodded, and beside him Terrador saw Sirius relax marginally. Just at that moment the Fire Guardian's expression changed, as though a thought had just struck him.
"What about the meeting you said Squall had in his chambers?" he asked. "Did you see who it was with? Is there a specific wraith commanding the force there? Nexus hasn't been able to tell us anything about the wraiths' hierarchy so far. If they have a leader, that might be information we can use."
Pyruth shook his head, and something about the look in his eyes caused Terrador to narrow his own eyes suspiciously.
"I never saw who Squall was speaking with," Pyruth replied. "I kept away from the window so I wouldn't be discovered. What I can tell you, however, is that the other voice was a dragon's voice, not a wraith's. A dragoness, specifically."
Terrador blinked, and Sirius turned to him with a look of open shock on his face.
"A dragoness is working with the wraiths?" the Earth Guardian said.
"Leading them, from the way it sounded."
"But I thought Ragnor was the one leading the wraiths," Sirius protested. "Nexus never mentioned him having a second in command here in the Dragon Realms. The only ones he's told us of are himself and Malefor, and the implication that Spyro was supposed to serve him too."
"It sounds as if he has found someone else to represent his power in the Realms," Terrador growled. "Someone he has corrupted, perhaps, or someone with their own ambitions."
"If I had been able to get a look at her I could probably tell you more," Pyruth said apologetically. "As it is I can only say that whoever she is, she has to be powerful. Master Sirius, if I may speak freely, you know how stubborn and bull-headed Squall is. He would never submit to anyone—let alone a dragoness—unless he was scared of them. From the way she spoke she seems to have an ego too. She insisted that Squall called her 'Mistress'."
Sirius gave a puzzled frown, while Terrador grunted.
"That still doesn't give us much, unfortunately," he sighed. "It could still be someone in forced servitude. When Malefor had Cynder under his control she acted with cruelty and sadism, while she isn't remotely like that on her own."
Pyruth simply nodded again, remaining silent. It appeared that the mystery dragoness's true character was of no consequence to him at that moment; his only concern was what to do next. Terrador sighed again, his brow creasing in thought.
"Regardless, our options are still limited. As you said, the wraiths know that we are now aware of their foothold in the Eastern City. If we make any aggressive move towards it, it may provoke a retaliation against the citizens. This will require a great deal of careful planning before—"
His next words were cut off by an ear-splitting BANG that ripped through the infirmary, causing even the Earth Guardian with his rock-hard nerves to jump and whip his head around toward the room's doorway. Several panicked exclamations could be heard from the hallway beyond, but they were promptly drowned out by an irate voice.
"How about you all stop gawking and help me out? I have a dying dragon here!"
The voice wasn't difficult to recognize, and Terrador saw Sirius turn an incredulous look toward him out of the corner of his eye. Standing, the earth dragon quickly left the room and headed for the infirmary's lobby. Once there it took only a second for his eyes to settle on the violet-scaled figure standing in the centre of the room, a limp white dragon draped across his back.
"What happened?" Terrador demanded.
"Ambush," Nexus grunted, sagging with apparent exhaustion, and it was only then that Terrador realized the state he was in, battered and looking like he was about to collapse under Flash's weight. The light dragon was in even worse shape than he was. "And as much as I'd love to stand here and tell you the whole thing in painstaking detail, I don't think Flash would appreciate it very much."
"No, take your time," his charge wheezed, and Terrador cringed inwardly at the wet, bubbly undertone to his voice. A hacking cough tore from his jaws. "No rush h-here."
The Earth Guardian snapped into action immediately, rounding on the first healer he laid eyes on—a stout mole that had just finished scrubbing his hands after tending to another patient. He didn't even need to speak. Having seen Nexus's arrival and already witnessing the condition that Flash was in, the mole knew exactly what needed to be done.
"This way," he instructed, turning toward the main corridor. "Quickly."
He rushed off down the hall, Nexus pushing past the Guardians brusquely and following as fast as he could manage. Terrador and Sirius lingered for only a moment to tell everyone else in the lobby to return to their business before moving to catch up. By the time they found the room that the mole had led Nexus and Flash to, the white dragon had already been delicately lowered onto a bed of cushions and Nexus was carefully removing the coating of ice sealing the deep wound on Flash's chest shut. The younger dragon was groaning fitfully as he did so, clearly in a great deal of pain. The mole healer himself appeared in the doorway scarcely a minute later, another mole and a dragoness following him carrying clean cloths, bandages, and a healthy stockpile of gems between them.
"It would be best if the three of you left now," the healer said, looking over his shoulder at Nexus and the two Guardians. Without even waiting for a response, he turned to the other mole and dragoness. "Put pressure on that wound before he loses any more blood. Now, get those gems ready..."
Terrador lingered for a moment, eyes fixed on Flash's face as he struggled to inhale past his pain. His jaw clenched, but he did what he could to hide it. This was his student, and the whole purpose of his role as a teacher was to prepare the young dragon for the dangers of the world. Yet here he was, fighting for his life, and the Guardian couldn't help but feel like he had failed.
Eventually he realized that the healers still needed space to work, and with a frustrated growl he left the chamber. Sirius joined him a few seconds later, Nexus moving to follow him. He stopped for a second, though, Flash catching his eye. Despite his pain, Flash was able to hold the purple dragon's gaze for a moment with a severe look of his own, and at length he gave a small nod. Surprise briefly registered in Nexus's features, but he promptly returned the nod before turning and staggering out to join the Guardians in the corridor.
Concern clouded Terrador's features when he saw the purple dragon sag against the stone wall, letting out an exhausted groan. Nexus reached up with a forepaw, wiping away a trail of blood dripping over his left eye from a nasty cut, and that was only the beginning of the injuries Terrador could spot covering his form.
"What happened?" he asked again.
Nexus glanced up at the sound of his baritone voice, expression grim. With a sigh, he answered, "The wraiths caught us by surprise. We had settled down for the night in the best camp we could manage to set up, and they jumped us when most of us were asleep. I don't know how many of them there were exactly. A few dozen, at least."
"That many?" Sirius asked, his eyes widening. There was a look of awe mixed in with his fear. "How did you survive?"
"Some quick thinking from Volteer," Nexus replied, a wry smirk turning up the edge of his muzzle for a second. "Turns out the guy's not all mouth after all. Anyway, we fought them off but it was close in the end. I brought Flash here right away because he was the worst off and wasn't going to make it with the supplies we had, but he wasn't the only one that got messed up. That's the other reason I came here; to bring help back for the others."
"Were there casualties?" Terrador asked slowly.
"At least one of the guards that came with us was killed. Otherwise, everyone else was alive when I left."
The Earth Guardian sighed heavily, but past the sadness that the news of the guard's death brought he felt a sense of urgency boiling up. He pictured his students and comrades battered and bloodied in some remote, exposed location at night, and he realized that there was no time to waste. He rose to his paws immediately.
"I can begin gathering medical supplies straight away," he declared. "What is needed?"
"A lot of red gems, clean bandages, and some splints probably wouldn't be a bad idea. We're going to need healers to come with us to stabilize the worst wounds before we can move, and guards for reinforcements and to help carry people."
Terrador nodded firmly, his eyes hard. "Very well."
"And green gems," Nexus added. "A lot of them. I can open a portal to transport everyone there and back again, but holding open a big enough portal long enough to get everyone through is going to take everything out of me."
Terrador nodded again. "I understand. Sirius, go to the barracks and see if you can't find some volunteers to help us. I will find the healers and supplies. Quickly, now. We shouldn't waste any more time."
Sirius was off without delay, disappearing into the lobby seconds later. Terrador spared one last glance at Nexus before he too set to work, heading deeper into the primary wing of the infirmary in search of able-bodied healers to assist them. Unfortunately the late hour worked against him, with only a minimal staff on hand.
Finally he was able to track down one dragon healer, a mole nurse and a younger dragoness apprentice. A few minutes later they had been appraised of the situation and had hastily packed a number of satchels full of the necessary supplies, and in that time Terrador was able to track down another pair of healers and tell them to have a room prepared for the returning wounded. When the Guardian and the three healers returned to where Nexus was waiting, the dragon healer stepped forward and began treating the purple dragon's injuries with some of the red gems while Terrador deposited a satchel of green gems at his paws. Nexus reached into it greedily, letting out a profound sigh as the gems' energy flowed into his body.
"So, where's our muscle?" he asked, looking up at Terrador.
"Hopefully Sirius will be returning soon," the Guardian replied. "Just be patient."
Just as he said, Sirius arrived at the infirmary a few minutes later, accompanied by four dragon guards in full armour. Satisfied with their company, Terrador turned his gaze on Nexus.
"When you are ready."
Nexus made no reply, rising to his paws wordlessly. With the Guardians, guards and healers following him he marched through the lobby and out into the open street. Once there a look of extreme concentration pinched his features, and a moment later a swirling vortex of convexity appeared before the group. It grew progressively larger until it stabilized at a diameter just large enough for two adult dragons to pass through abreast.
"Watch your step," Nexus grunted, and Terrador could easily make out the strain in his voice.
Looking up at the portal, Terrador took one last second to steel his nerves before stepping into the spinning funnel of energy, feeling it grip him and whisk him away in an instant with no going back.
*.*.*
A fleeting bout of dizziness struck the young purple dragon without warning, and Spyro faltered in his stride as he fought to maintain his balance. It was gone as quickly as it had come, though, and after a puzzled frown he shook his head and pushed it from his mind. He had too much else to worry about at the moment.
Faren, Chinook and Enigma were stretched out in the middle of the stone outcroppings the group had been ambushed in, Volteer standing over them as he did what he could to treat their wounds. Unfortunately their gem supply was paltry compared to the amount of injuries the group members had sustained, and there was nowhere near enough even to heal their most severe wounds without leaving someone else short-changed. Spyro fought to hide a frustrated scowl, wishing there was more he could do.
At present, Chinook was lying with his broken hind leg resting on top of one of the group's blankets, the cover bundled up to try and offer some padding for it. They couldn't heal it without setting the bone, though, and so for the time being he was left to fight off the constant assault of pain that his wound caused him. Surprisingly, he hardly let it show. He appeared more concerned with taking Enigma's mind off of her own troubles, which were more dire.
Her lower jaw was swollen from a heavy blow, most likely from a club of some type, and the impact had been hard enough to leave her with a relentless, splitting headache. Worse, though, was the gash on the side of her neck, streams of half-dried blood having coated the remaining length of her neck and dying it red. Volteer had used some of their red gems to slow the bleeding, but again, he couldn't give her enough to completely heal the cut when there were so many other injuries to tend to. Chinook was holding a piece from another blanket against the wound, trying to further stem the flow of blood. The shadow dragoness was in bad shape from her injuries, fading in and out of consciousness, and her grey-scaled companion was doing his best to keep her talking.
Faren was on Enigma's other side, a makeshift bandage tied around her midsection. The blankets covering her right flank were stained red where an arrow or crossbow bolt had punctured her scales and dug deep into her side. It hadn't been enough to stop her from fighting, but as the adrenaline had begun wearing off she had collapsed. She was breathing shallowly, her features severely pinched. Any time she drew in any more than the smallest of breaths she winced badly, tears beading at the corners of her eyes. Spyro frowned sympathetically as he passed.
His head spun again, slightly more intensely than before. The purple dragon swayed on his paws for a second, but soon enough the feeling had passed. It was harder to ignore this time around, but Spyro reminded himself that he still had others to check on. He turned toward the outside of the camp, hissing quietly from a flare of pain from his wounded shoulder as it twisted.
His mood grew even more sombre as he moved farther away from the small patch of light created by the re-built fire. Up ahead in the darkness he could just make out movement, and eventually the shapes of five dragons appeared. Two of the forms were laying flat on the ground, still—the two guards that had been killed by the wraiths when the ambush began. The surviving guard was standing beside one of the bodies, apparently having just finished moving it there from where it had been found. Cynder—the fourth figure—must have been helping him. The guard's side and wing were heavily wrapped in more of the group's blankets, and the wounds were obviously hindering his movements.
Voltra sat a fair distance away from the two dragons tending to the deceased. As Spyro approached her, he could see the pale, haunted look drawn across her expression. An occasional tremor shot through her frame, and it looked like she was oblivious to everything happening around her, her attention locked on the dead bodies. Spyro drew to a halt by her side.
"Hey," he said quietly.
Despite his best intentions, it appeared she was still badly startled by his voice. The yellow dragoness jumped sharply, her head whipping around to face him with a look of panic in her eyes.
"Easy," Spyro said quickly, lifting a paw in a reassuring gesture. "It's just me. Sorry."
Voltra let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders and wings sagging as the tension left her body. Her gaze fell to the ground.
"You okay?" the purple dragon asked her, leaning closer.
"I..." she began feebly, but her voice failed her for a moment. "I don't know. Everything just happened so fast..."
"Yeah," Spyro nodded. "As much as we tried to prepare for something like this, I don't think any of us were really ready."
Voltra shuddered again, and Spyro's brows knit together, concern filtering through him. It was unnerving to see the normally bright, joyful dragoness this shaken up.
"How do you do this?" she asked suddenly, causing Spyro to falter in confusion. "How do you stay so calm after what just happened? I've never been this scared before, even when my family was running from the apes every day. And..."
Her eyes turned back toward the still forms of the two dead guards, and in her eyes Spyro saw a staggering vortex of fear, revulsion, and horror. She almost seemed to forget that Spyro was sitting there right beside her, her attention completely fixed on the bodies. When the purple dragon gently reached up and touched her shoulder, she jumped again.
"It's hard," he told her simply, finding her question a difficult one to answer. "You just focus on what's in front of you, I guess. Think about the next thing you have to do, and just keep moving forward." He paused, holding the dragoness's frightened gaze for a minute, but then a new question formed in his mind and he quickly glanced over her. "Were you injured?"
"No, not badly," she answered with a hasty shake of her head. "My tail got scratched up pretty bad when...when they grabbed me..."
She looked down at her tail, where several red scrapes and cuts could be seen from the wraith's crooked fingers. Spyro saw a powerful shiver run through her again, and tentatively he reached up to her shoulder again. He knew she was shaken up, but he was still caught completely by surprise when she suddenly lurched toward him and grabbed hold of him with her forelegs.
For several seconds he was completely frozen, unsure what was happening. He could only stare down at the bright yellow dragoness, feeling her trembling against his chest. Slowly his wits returned to him, though, and he brought his left forepaw around to rest it on Voltra's back. She tightened her hold around the base of his neck, her face nestled against the scales just above his chest. Spyro found that the extreme proximity left him feeling mildly disconcerted, but he forced those thoughts aside.
"It's okay," he told her. "I know this is a lot to deal with. I've been there. But we'll be safe back in Warfang soon, and once a bit of time has passed you'll feel better."
Unfortunately, his words seemed to have little effect. When Voltra spoke again Spyro could still hear terror in her voice.
"I was so sure we were going to die," she murmured. "Even after hearing about what they could do, I never thought they would be that horrible. But they were so strong, and so fast, and they were everywhere! And their eyes..."
She shook violently, and Spyro instinctually pulled her tighter against his chest with his forepaw.
"Hey, easy," he told her gently. "It's over. I doubt they're coming back tonight. We're going to be fine."
Voltra didn't answer for a long moment, clinging on to the purple dragon almost desperately, but slowly the trembling in her body stilled and her breathing calmed. A long, heavy sigh leaked past her jaws, and she sagged into Spyro's hold. She eventually looked up, forcing a weak smile onto her muzzle.
"Thanks," she muttered, embarrassed. "I guess I just needed a little help to stop panicking. I feel safer knowing you're here with us."
Spyro returned her smile, now feeling embarrassed on his part. It only became worse when he met her gaze directly, the purple dragon faltering at the look of content and admiration that he could see in her eyes. He coughed uncomfortably, and Voltra snickered.
"We...just have to stick together," he fumbled. "Their main strength is in numbers, so that's what we need to—"
"Hey, Spyro."
The purple dragon was cut off abruptly by the call, and he looked over his left wing to see Cynder staring at him and Voltra with a strange look on her face. Spyro frowned, unable to read her expression like he normally could—it was almost like he was looking at Enigma instead. His forepaw slipped from Voltra's back, the young dragon half-turning to face Cynder.
"I need to talk to you for a second," she told him, turning away without waiting for a response.
Spyro's frown deepened, but with no desire to keep her waiting he looked back at Voltra.
"You okay?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she nodded quickly. "I'll be fine. Thanks."
Spyro offered a quick smile, then stepped back when Voltra released him and padded after Cynder, finding her sitting by one of the rock outcroppings waiting for him. She was holding her right foreleg up in front of her chest, clutching the wounded limb tightly to her body as though in pain. Concern rushed through him, hoping the leg wasn't too badly injured, but from the look of it he wouldn't be surprised if it had been fractured.
As he was approaching he suddenly felt like the ground was shifting under his paws, as if he was standing on the deck of a ship rather than solid earth, and he stumbled. He managed to catch himself before he fell, but the phenomenon left him deeply puzzled. He blinked his eyes several times, giving his head a small shake, wondering what had brought on the unusual feeling. It was then that he caught sight of Cynder again, sitting with her back to him staring out over the plains, and he realized that he was wasting time.
"What are you doing?" she asked just as he stepped up beside her, cutting him off before he could ask what she wanted.
He stood with his mouth hanging open dumbly for half a second before shaking off his surprise. "What do you mean?"
"I thought you said that you were going to get your wounds looked at by Volteer, but here you are wandering around without even stopping to rest for a second. Are you trying to get that shoulder infected?"
Spyro cocked his head when he detected the harsh edge in the black dragoness's voice. Had he done something to upset her? True, he had assured her that he would have his injuries looked at, but he had been wounded in the past and she hadn't reacted this way. What was really going on?
"Volteer was busy with the others," he explained at length. "They were in worse shape than I was, so I didn't want to take his attention away from them until he was finished. Besides, someone still needed to keep watch while we wait for Nexus to get back and you were busy with the Guard. There was no one else to do it."
Cynder finally turned to look at him with a studying gaze, and Spyro arched a brow at her in growing confusion, but also with a tinge of irritation. The black dragoness eventually seemed to pick up on this, and her expression softened a touch. She sighed.
"Well, it's a bad idea to leave your wounds untreated. You're not going to do much good on watch if you're too weak to fight if anything comes up."
"I'm fine," Spyro protested. "I've had worse."
"Have you now?" Cynder asked, levelling a skeptical look at him, and Spyro drew back mildly in surprise. "Spyro, look at your shoulder. You're painting the ground right now."
Spyro blinked, puzzled by the expression, and with a frown he twisted his head to look at his right side.
He stifled a gasp at the sight of it. The gash in his scales looked far worse than he had expected. While it hurt a lot, he hadn't realized it was that bad. Blood had stained the scales all around the wound a deep crimson, running all the way down his flank and dripping slowly to the dusty ground below. His eyes widened.
"Wow," he said weakly. "That does look bad."
"No kidding," Cynder snorted. "And it's only going to get worse unless you get it looked at quickly. You really should be lying down with the others right now."
"Yeah. Maybe you're..."
He couldn't finish his sentence. Out of nowhere he felt unusually faint, his head spinning worse than ever. A strange, powerful buzzing filled his ears, and though he vaguely noticed Cynder's mouth move as she called out to him with a shocked look on her face, her voice was muffled and indistinct. He couldn't understand anything she was saying. He didn't even realize that he had been falling until the dizziness abated slightly and he realized that his companion had caught him with her shoulder, staring at him with wide, worried eyes.
"What happened?" he muttered blearily.
"Okay, I'm getting Volteer right now," Cynder declared, urgency filling her voice. "You stay here and don't move."
She awkwardly sidestepped until she had Spyro aligned with the rock she had been sitting beside, letting him slip off of her flank so that he was leaning with his left side propped against the cold stone. Spyro let out a weak grunt as his wounded shoulder flared in protest from the movement, but he was too disoriented to protest.
"I'll be right back," Cynder told him. "Just sit tight."
And with that she was gone. Spyro tried to call after her to tell her he was alright, but he could feel another dizzy spell rising that prevented him from it, only serving to prove that he wasn't. He looked at his shoulder again and immediately looked away, disturbed by the sight. How had it gotten to that state without him realizing it? He couldn't recall it paining him that much, but it was hammering against him relentlessly now.
Well, I guess this is what I get for trying to be a tough guy. Ancestors, this has been one terrible night...
He let his head roll sideways so that it was resting against the rock, releasing a long, heavy breath at the same time. The feeling of light-headedness hadn't left him yet, and he could feel his eyes beginning to droop heavily. Spyro decided that the adrenaline from the battle and its aftermath was starting to abandon him, and he realized then how absolutely exhausted he was. Between the loss of sleep, the gruelling battle and now this wound, he could barely stay awake.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just close my eyes for a minute..., he thought sluggishly.
Unable to fight the weight pulling at his eyelids, he eventually surrendered and allowed darkness to slide across his vision.
It felt like he had only just closed his eyes when he was disturbed by a voice and someone shaking his left shoulder. Groaning weakly, Spyro forced his eyes to open once more. When he did, though, he realized with a jolt of disorientation that he was no longer sitting against the rock face. Looking around, he saw that he had somehow ended up laying on his stomach in the middle of the camp alongside Chinook, Enigma, and Faren. When had he moved there?
"Hey!" the voice that had roused him snapped, and Spyro jumped—only for a hiss to immediately leak through his clenched teeth when his right shoulder burned from the movement. "Snap out of it. We're out of here."
Spyro looked up and was surprised to see Nexus standing over him, glaring down at him impatiently. Cynder was beside him, watching Spyro with a hint of concern, though it was mostly hidden by a frown. Glancing around again he realized that there were many more dragons around them than there had been when he was last aware. Guards and healers alike were moving around the group, distributing red gems and lifting the wounded to their paws.
"Also, seriously?" Nexus spoke up, drawing his counterpart's attention once more. "I leave you alone for half an hour and you almost let yourself bleed to death? You're unbelievable."
"He does have his moments," Cynder muttered beside him, and Spyro shot her a frown. She was unfazed.
"Whoa," a new voice remarked, and Spyro looked to see Chinook watching them with a half smirk. "Did you two just agree on something?"
Cynder blinked, exchanging a bemused glance with Nexus, and the purple dragon shrugged in response.
"I mean, it was probably bound to happen eventually," he grunted, deadpan. He turned his attention back to Spyro before the dragoness could respond, lifting a red gem fragment up with his forepaw. "Here."
Spyro gratefully accepted the gem, a rush of relief filling him as some of his pain yielded to its ancient power. Turning his head back, he saw that a piece of cloth had somehow been tied over his wound already, soaked through with red, and he grimaced at the sight. That wraith had really done a number on him.
"Alright, up you get," Nexus told him, snapping him out of his thoughts. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you get fixed up and the sooner we can get a bit of rest."
He jabbed the other purple dragon not so gently with his forepaw, earning a glare that he ignored before he turned away and padded across the camp. Following with his eyes, Spyro saw that he was heading toward where Volteer was standing with Terrador, no doubt discussing the battle. Nearly everyone else was already on their feet, Sirius helping Faren up with a forepaw, Voltra propping up a dizzy-looking Enigma—whose jaw and neck looked like they had received some welcome red gem treatment—and Chinook was just then releasing a sharp yelp as a healer set the fractured bones in his leg, setting to work fastening a splint around it until proper gem treatment could be applied. Cynder tapped him on the foreleg at that moment, drawing his eyes to her.
"Come on," she said, motioning with her muzzle for him to stand. "Let's go home, shall we?"
The prospect drew a relieved smile from the wounded purple dragon, and he nodded eagerly. With Cynder using her shoulder to help brace him, he pushed himself up to his paws. Despite her own wounded foreleg—which appeared to have been braced similarly to Chinook's leg already—Cynder offered for Spyro to use her for support, and he begrudgingly accepted. His right shoulder ached severely and he was forced to keep the leg tucked against his chest since it seemed unable to bear his weight anymore. Still, working together he and Cynder reached the two elder Guardians in short order.
Within a couple more minutes everyone had gathered and was ready to depart. Terrador gave the word and Nexus opened a portal with his powers, straining to support the rift while the first healers guided Chinook and Enigma through, followed immediately by Sirius, Faren, and Voltra. With a nod, Terrador motioned for Spyro and Cynder to go next, which they did with haste. After a stomach-churning lurch, they found themselves standing in the foyer of the infirmary in Warfang. They quickly moved away from the portal opening, making room for the next travellers in line.
"There's no way I'm ever going to get used to that," Cynder commented, shaking her head quickly.
"It sure does mess with you," Chinook agreed, shaking his head roughly. "Sure is a convenient way to get around, though."
"I wonder why Nexus doesn't just use it all the time," Faren remarked, drawing looks from the others.
The portal crackled, causing everyone to look toward it quickly. The vortex of energy was flickering as the final guards stepped through, two of them carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades. It then wavered unnervingly, clearly unstable, and just before it collapsed completely Nexus came lunging through it. He hit the ground with a crash, his legs giving out and causing him to slide to a stop on his side. He was gasping feverishly, his chest heaving as he struggled desperately for air. Spyro's eyes briefly widened at the sight before glancing at Faren again.
"I guess that's why," he remarked. "Nexus, are you okay?"
The other purple dragon's only reply was a shaky, dismissive wave of his forepaw. Spyro grunted, mildly annoyed at being brushed off so quickly, but he had more important things to worry about anyway. He looked up to see that another pair of healers were approaching them from the main corridor, a dragoness and a mole, their eyes already taking in the various wounds that the returning travellers all bore and judging their severity. The dragoness, a somewhat thick-set electricity wielder, stepped up to Spyro and Cynder. She glanced around the group quickly before her eyes settled on the young pair.
"We have a room ready for all of you, if you'll just follow us," she said, addressing the whole group. "This way."
No one had any argument to make—doubtlessly they were all too exhausted to even consider it. After one of the healers offered a pawful of green spirit gems to Nexus the battered, bloodied travellers were escorted to one of the larger rooms toward the end of the main corridor. Spyro blinked in surprise when he saw several thin cushioned mats set out already, enough for all of them, along with trays of medical supplies. The only one for whom accommodations didn't seem to be prepared was Volteer, who no doubt had his own room where he would be tended to.
Spyro's suspicion was confirmed when the dragoness healer turned from the bulk of the group and approached the yellow Guardian, Terrador and Sirius following. Before leaving, Terrador looked back over his shoulder toward the assorted younger dragons.
"We will take our leave of you now," he said to them. "Volteer will no doubt be able to fill us in on the details of what happened on your trip, so all you young ones need to think about is recovering. Don't worry about your combat class tomorrow, either. You have all at least earned some rest after your ordeal."
"Thank you," Spyro replied with a weak bow of his head.
Terrador returned the nod, and afterward he, Sirius, Volteer and the healer departed, leaving the rest of the healers to tend to their young charges. They were each directed to one of the beds and instructed to lay down, and given how weary he was Spyro was only too happy to comply. He almost passed out the second he lay down on his cushion, the frequent twinges of pain from the mole treating his shoulder being the only thing that kept him awake. When he looked over at Nexus he saw that the other purple dragon was sound asleep already. Spyro was surprised by this—out of all of them he would have expected Nexus to be the last one to surrender his guard, but apparently in this case his sheer fatigue won out.
Mercifully, the treatment of the party's injuries was uneventful despite the severity of some of them. Voltra required only a few bandages, and after that she was released to go back to her home. She made sure to go around and offer everyone some words of encouragement before she left, wishing them all a swift recovery. Faren received a tight embrace from the yellow dragoness, Voltra thanking her emphatically for saving her from the wraiths that had grabbed her, and while obviously flustered the fire dragoness was able to give a smile in return. Then, once she got to Spyro she again thanked him for his help comforting her back at the camp. She couldn't hug him like she had with Faren with the healer working on his shoulder, so instead she surprised him by quickly nuzzling him on the cheek, laughing at his red-faced expression when she pulled back. Spyro was utterly speechless as he watched her leave the chamber.
They received two other disturbances early on, Chinook's parents bursting into the chamber and descending on the young wind dragon immediately, no doubt informed by infirmary staff of the group's return. Awkwardly, the rest of the group listened as Gale scolded Chinook furiously for running off and doing something as foolish as joining a voyage under heavy wraith threat, while Boreas simply watched with a sharp, stern expression that sent a chill down Spyro's back. However, as soon as she was finished with her verbal lashing Gale wrapped her son in her wings and held him tightly, the tension melting from her form at the knowledge that Chinook was safe. The sight brought a smile to Spyro's face. Tythos arrived soon afterward, consumed with worry over Faren's condition but relaxing soon after when he saw she was alright. The fire dragoness was assured that there would be consequences for her reckless actions, though, and Spyro could only look on sympathetically as she protested to no avail.
Finally, the concerned parents left the healers to their work. Under the steady treatment of red gems, their wounds were all healed and soon enough the infirmary staff were packing away their supplies, hoping to let their patients rest as soon as possible. They would remain at the infirmary overnight to allow their newly-tended wounds to strengthen, but otherwise they were given clean bills of health. By the morning they would all be allowed to leave.
Relief flooded through Spyro's being at this news, and with his last worries put to rest he finally lowered his head onto his padded mattress with a heavy groan. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so exhausted, except for perhaps after his battle in Convexity against Cynder. It didn't matter in the end. He no longer had the energy to dwell on the matter. He closed his eyes gratefully, warmth and security surrounding him here, his friends gathered around him, and in no time at all he was quickly drifting away...
*.*.*
Ancestors, I'm going to die here...
Chinook suppressed a groan, rolling over on his bed mat for what must have been at least the hundredth time that night. Discomfort filled his entire being, but it wasn't because of the thin mat itself. He'd had no trouble sleeping on the hard earth while travelling to the destroyed mole village. No, it was more because of the cast of bandages that was still wrapped around his hind leg, combined with his general restlessness. Every time he felt like he was about to nod off an image of glowing white eyes and spectral black bodies flared in his mind, and he would be jolted back to full alertness with his eyes wide and heart racing. Now, boredom was starting to take a heavy toll on him as he was left to wait out the seemingly endless night.
I can't stand this anymore! he cursed inwardly, looking around at the still forms of his companions, all sleeping in relative peace without him. This is literally going to drive me crazy.
He looked around the room again, barely catching himself before he could let out an annoyed growl that might wake someone. The room was mostly silent and dark, the only dim light coming from a softly-glowing spirit gem lantern hanging from the ceiling. The torches that normally provided the bulk of the room's light had been extinguished after the healers left them earlier that night, and a heavy curtain had been drawn across the doorway to block out as much light and noise from the main hallway as possible. The occasional muffled voice or distant exclamation would still leak through, though, only making it harder for the exhausted wind dragon to fall asleep.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled over onto his stomach, glancing around one more time to make sure his movements hadn't woken up any of his friends. His eyes lingered on Nexus for a moment and a heavy tremor ran through his body, both from the notion that a killer was sleeping barely feet from him but also from the sight of the scars that covered his entire body. Even when he was sleeping they lent a fierceness to his appearance, especially the scars over his eye, but they also spoke of a horrible past. Chinook found that he at the same time feared him and pitied him, but he was definitely leaning more toward fear. Nexus would probably kill him if he found out he was being pitied anyway.
Finally, he simply couldn't stay in one place any longer. Striving to keep his motions as silent as possible, the wind dragon pushed himself up to his paws and tested his bandaged limb. It still ached, but it held his weight reasonably well and didn't seem like it would prevent him from walking. Grateful for this at least, Chinook used his wind power to muffle the sound of his footsteps and pushed through the curtain blocking the door.
The light in the main hallway stung at his eyes, and he blinked them furiously against the pain. After a few seconds his vision adjusted, though, and the wind dragon quickly looked around at his surroundings. No infirmary staff were in sight, but he could hear activity toward the front of the building. It seemed highly likely that if one of the healers caught him out of his room he would be in trouble, and after the night he had just had and the grounding he was sure was waiting for him when he got back home, he was in no mood to risk any further punishment. He turned right, away from the lobby, and padded off as quietly as he could manage.
He groaned in irritation only a moment later when he found himself at a dead end. The only thing here was a supply closet filled with bandages, herbs and medicines, and a row of large crates against one wall that he assumed were filled with spirit gems. He tried to open one to see, but the lid refused to budge. He wondered if there was some sort of magic that prevented anyone other than a healer from opening them. While it made sense, it only left the young dragon more disappointed than before. With a grumble he left the closet, returning to the main hall.
This has been a bust, he grumbled. Why can't I just fall asleep? That would be so much easier...
He kept walking toward the lobby, hoping that he might be able to slip out inconspicuously, but just then he heard a set of voices approaching from a side corridor. Judging from the sound of them they were healers, discussing the condition of a patient of some sort, and Chinook panicked. Looking around quickly, he saw a doorway on his right with the curtain only partially drawn and ducked through it, flattening himself against the wall beyond the threshold. The healers passed without pausing, and Chinook released a faint sigh.
"You know, if you were going to try and escape you probably would have been better off taking a little while to time their rounds."
Chinook uttered a sharp gasp, spinning around and wincing when his leg burned from the sudden motion. He froze when he could just make out the shape of an adult shadow dragon lying on a bed of cushions and staring at him through the darkness, his eyes shining from the dim glow of the crystal lantern, the blades on his wings reflecting the light. His features were unreadable.
"Uh...what?" Chinook finally managed to force out. "Escape?"
"Well, I could only assume that's what you were doing since you're hiding in here," the shadow dragon replied with a small shrug. He set his head down from apparent weariness. "I sympathize. It does get dull in here, doesn't it?"
Chinook blinked, the dragon's response catching him off guard. He tilted his head questioningly.
"Why are you in here?" he asked at length. "You don't look hurt."
The dragon chuckled, a wry grin appearing at the corner of his mouth for an instant, but it only lasted a second before he winced. "Head injury. The healers finished treating my other wounds already, but they want to keep me here for a while longer to make sure there are no other effects from getting hit so hard. All I know is my head is killing me. A little tip: Don't get clubbed in the skull. It isn't fun."
"I'll...keep that in mind."
Silence descended over the pair for a brief moment, and in that time Chinook sized up the other dragon, taking in his posture and bearing. Even lying down as he was there was a distinctive, disciplined air about him. Eventually his gaze returned to the other dragon's eyes, another question forming in his mind.
"Are you a guard?"
It was the shadow dragon's turn to blink, surprise showing through his mask. "Yes. I am."
"From Warfang?"
The black dragon shook his head. "Eastern City. I'm here with my superior, Captain Pyruth."
"The Eastern City?" Chinook repeated, tilting his head again. "Then why are you in Warfang? It's kind of hard to guard your city from here, isn't it?"
The guard snorted dryly, but all humour rapidly vanished from his bearing. Chinook felt a cold knot of unease form in his gut, knowing something wasn't right. Eventually the guard let out a heavy sigh.
"I shouldn't really tell you this, but I figure news of it will get out soon enough anyway. The wraiths captured the city."
Chinook gasped, his eyes going wide. The Eastern City was captured? How? Why? His thoughts turned to Faren. That was her home. He wondered how she would take that news when she was told. He knew he definitely wouldn't want to be the one hearing something like that.
That really sucks...
"How did you know I was a guard anyway?" the shadows dragon asked suddenly, jolting Chinook from his thoughts. He looked up to see the larger male fixing him with an inquisitive stare, one that he oddly found familiar, though he couldn't place why.
He shook his head, realizing the other patient was waiting for a reply.
"My dad's a guard," he explained. "Captain, actually. You hold yourself kind of like he does."
"Oh," the other dragon said, again looking surprised. "Boreas, I assume? I heard about him taking a command posting here."
Chinook nodded.
"What about you, then? Thinking of following in his pawsteps?"
The wind dragon scoffed, shaking his head. The guard's inquisitive look only grew.
"Not really," Chinook said. "I don't do that well at following instructions. I don't think it would be the best fit. I'm better at finding trouble than trying to guard against it."
The shadow dragon chuckled quietly, his mask fading a touch. Chinook also felt himself relax slowly. Even if he didn't know who this dragon was, it felt good to be able to talk with someone and take his mind off of the events of the past night.
"I understand," the larger dragon grinned. "I was once like that. I really only became a fighter out of necessity during the war against the apes. After that ended...well, I didn't really have anything to go back to, so I stayed on as a guard."
"Oh," Chinook said. "You lost your home?"
The guard nodded. "That's why I stayed at the Eastern City when I ended up there. Figured I could try to start over."
"That sounds rough."
"Yeah, well, that's war. And what about you? Did your home escape the apes' rampages?"
Chinook nodded. "I grew up in Sky Haven, which was pretty much out of their reach I guess. I never saw any fighting."
"Well then you're lucky," the guard stated. "Because it isn't pretty. I would trade anything to not have to go through..."
The shadow dragon suddenly trailed off, and it seemed that something caught his attention in the door behind Chinook. His eyes went wide, his mouth slowly falling open, and with a puzzled frown Chinook turned to look back over his shoulder. He faltered when he saw the cause of the guard's surprise.
"Enigma?" he said. "What are you doing here?"
The black dragoness didn't respond. It didn't even look like she had heard him. She was staring up at the other shadow dragon with a look of utter shock in her expression. Chinook found himself even more confused by this fact; she wasn't even trying to hide it like she normally did. He glanced between the two black dragons questioningly, wondering what in the world had made them both react this way to seeing each other. Did they know each other somehow?
As it turned out, his answer was very short in coming. Enigma's mouth opened slowly, the dragoness trying to form words. In the end, in a voice that was practically a whisper, she only managed two.
"Uncle Shade?"
Uncle Sh...Wait...
What?!
Chinook's jaw almost hit the floor. In the months that he had known Enigma, she had never once mentioned any kind of family. Everything had pointed to them all being killed in the war, and nobody had pressed her about it. They had all just accepted that she was alone. Was she really serious now that this dragon was her uncle, then? It almost seemed impossible!
"Enigma," the adult dragon, Shade, said weakly. He looked even more stunned than Enigma did, if that was even possible. They both bore an almost haunted air about them.
"You...you're alive?" Enigma asked, her voice holding more emotion in it than Chinook had heard or seen in the entire time he'd known her combined.
She took a hesitant step forward, then another. Chinook could only watch in dumbfounded silence as she approached the dragon that she claimed was family. Their eyes never left each other's, as if they were afraid to look away in case the other disappeared.
"Enigma," Shade repeated, slightly louder than before. "I...I can't believe it. I thought you were dead."
"You too," Enigma said, her voice still flooded with disbelief. "When the apes attacked, I heard they overwhelmed you. How did you survive?"
"A band of us managed to push back their forces long enough to escape, but there weren't enough of us to save the village," Shade said, a mournful note entering his voice. "We believed everyone else had been killed."
Enigma's features tightened marginally. "So, Aunt Nebula...?"
Shade simply nodded, a tinge of sorrow showing in his eyes. A look of hope suddenly replaced it, though, and he leaned his head forward. "What about your parents, and your sister? Did they escape with you?"
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Chinook thought. Sister? Enigma has a sister?
The dragoness's features tightened slightly, and Chinook felt a twinge of worry. "Dad didn't. He died giving Mom time to get me and Tenebrae out. We ran to the Northern City and met up with the other refugees hiding there, but..."
Shade's face quickly fell, a downcast look crossing his features. "But it was destroyed by the grublins. I heard. Does that mean...?"
Enigma's gaze dropped to the ground, a faint sigh escaping her. Chinook opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had never seen Enigma this way, looking so deflated. It was jarring, but more than that it upset him to see her hurt. He wished that there was some way to lift her spirits. He had no idea how, though, and in the end all he could do was sit there, listening awkwardly and trying to sort out the rush of information he had just heard.
Enigma lived in the Northern City. That was where she had come from before Warfang. She'd had a family there, a sister. And now an uncle that she had thought was dead was lying right there in front of her.
Sheesh. This has been one crazy night...
Chinook jerked up, a buzzing excitement filling his being. Wait until the others heard about this! He had to go and tell them! This was something they had never thought they would see, but there it was happening right in front of him. Enigma had a family! A living family member! It was so sudden, so unexpected. They would never believe him!
He jumped up to his paws, but when he looked back toward the shadow dragons his manic energy evaporated. Right before his eyes, Shade strained to sit up, reached out with his wings and encircled the normally closed-off, ice cold dragoness with them, drawing her up against his chest. To Chinook's surprise, the most independent dragoness he knew surrendered immediately to her uncle's hold, lowering her head and burying her face in the larger dragon's dark chest scales. Neither of them said a word. In Shade's eyes, Chinook could just make out the faint glistening of tears; tears of pure joy at being reunited with a survivor from a family that he must have thought he had lost forever.
The feeling that rose up and filled Chinook's being was indescribable. He had never experienced anything like this in his life, nor had he expected to be this moved by something that didn't even involve him personally. It was like the rest of the world faded away, leaving this one moment as the only thing that mattered. He couldn't even imagine what either of them were feeling.
A smile spread across his muzzle, and with his pawsteps again muffled by his wind power he crept over to the room's doorway. He slipped past the half-opened drape, pausing on the other side to cast one last look back at the reunited pair. His smile spread wider.
Good for you, En, he thought, turning away from the door and heading back to his own bed, the anxiety and restlessness that had plagued him before completely gone.
Good for you.
Anyone expect that ending? XD Looks like Enigma's story isn't quite as bleak as her friends assumed, although the pieces we heard here do still sound pretty rough. There may or may not be a scene in the next chapter that dives a little deeper into these events. You'll just have to wait and see. ^^
Thanks for reading! Until next time...