Author's Note: My apologies for the tremendous delay everyone. My story took a back seat while I finished up my final year in college, moved into a new house, found myself a new job, and got married. Now that I have accomplished all of these huge life goals, I'm finally ready to take up my story once again. As I have said to many of you who have asked, I have no intentions of leaving this story unfinished. The show must go on. I've taken the liberty of refurbishing the story so most of the amateurish material is now gone. However, the overall story thus far remains essentially the same. So now, without further ado, I give you the next chapter and a promise of more to come.

Chapter 28-Siege

Wither continued to rub the sleep out of his eyes while he overlooked the fields surrounding Warfang. The sun still sat below the horizon, but the pink rays of dawn peeked over the eastern meadow. The tree line a couple miles in the distance remained still. No movement had yet been reported anywhere around the wall. Psy leaned toward Wither and partially covered his mouth with his paws. "Nervous?"

Wither felt like his stomach and his throat were fighting each other to switch places. He swallowed to interrupt their wriggling, if only for a moment. "Yeah. You?"

Psy looked back out across the field and kept his voice low. "I mean, I'd be weird if I wasn't, right?"

"Right," said Wither as he gave an assuring nod.

"You'll be fine," said Terrador. Noh nodded in affirmation but said nothing. He looked like he didn't sleep at all last night. His eyes were heavy and sagged underneath. He watched the fields with a disinterested look and waited for something interesting to happen.

Spyro pat Wither on the back. "Yes, you'll all be fine. No need to worry too much. This is only the first day." None of the elders said anything about the fact that Roxy was visibly shaking in either anticipation or fear or some mixture of the two.

Wither used the hive mind to find his friends. "Hey, how you doing?"

"Nothing going on over here," thought Tera.

"Or here," thought Vera.

"We haven't seen anything yet," thought Elleca.

"That's good and all, but that's not really what I asked. How are you doing?"

"Scared," thought Tera and Vera together.

"Same," thought Sora.

"I'm more interested to see what tactics the enemies will use in their attempts to breach the walls of Warfang. They had better bring their best to the fight if they intend to do any damage. This place is a fortress," thought Wylee.

"How about you Renna?" thought Wither.

"Eh, I'm fine."

"You're sure you're not scared?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"But you've been terrified of this day. Are you sure everything's all right? You sound different."

"I said I'm fine."

"Okay, that's good. Glad to hear it."

"She's been acting weird all morning," thought Elleca. "I don't know why I got paired with her. I would have rather had a watch with Roxy."

Wither waited for Renna's retort for being called weird, but none came. Instead, silence fell across the link between them. After a while, Wither thought, "If anyone needs any help, just let me know, okay? I can have you out of trouble in just a couple seconds."

"Thank you, Wither," thought Sora. Everyone else offered their thanks and continued the wait. The sun rose up above the horizon, signaling the beginning of new sun. Bells went off in Warfang as the day officially began.

The tree line shimmered in the distance and a hole in space appeared, blocking out a segment of the trees. Suddenly, many of Wither's friends reported in, claiming to see the same thing from their spots on the wall. Yarrow watched everything through the eyes of all the citizens of Warfang from his garden. "It has begun."

Droves of grublins swarmed out of the eastern portal. They blanketed the ground. They choked the sky. They eclipsed the sun as the first waves of flying grublins and wyverns surged forward. "There's thousands of them," said Psy.

"This is the size of the grublin army that attacked Warfang twenty years ago," said Terrador. "Malefor must be controlling this force."

They watched as the grublins closed in and turned to one of the moles who had placed themselves across the top of the wall with the dragons and cheetahs. "You said you had a plan in the event of an onslaught like this," said Noh. "Mind giving that a whirl?"

"With pleasure," said the mole. He pulled a tiny box out of his pocket and held a button down as he spoke into it. "Magnus to Warfang Control."

The box crackled and a voice reported back. "Warfang Control awaiting your orders, sir."

Magnus pointed toward the rapidly approaching army and said, "Activate the Battle Net."

All of the stone dragon statues adorning the top of the wall opened their mouths and tilted their heads back on previously hidden hinges. A loud tat tat tat filled the air and bright flashes blasted out of the mouths of the statues. The grublins that flew over the ground defenses dropped out of the sky by the dozen.

The dragons watched in awe as the perilous weapons previously unknown even to them were unleashed on the attackers with devastating results. Magnus jumped up and down and shouted to the dying grublins. "Yeah, how do you like them bullets? Say hello to our city perimeter-wide autocannons."

"This is incredible," said Spyro. "When did your people install these things?"

"About a year after the attack on Warfang," said Magnus. "We didn't possess the technology until then. But our science has improved a great deal since then. These are just toys compared to what our scientists are working on in the labs in Mjölnir. No one's cracking their way into Warfang without the fight of the millennium."

Around the eastern wall, dragons, cheetahs, and moles cheered as the grublins in the sky retreated. Off in the distance the ground units halted where the fifty foot toxic moat began. The crowd parted, making a wide path all the way back to the portal.

"What are they doing?" said Wither.

Magnus held a miniature telescope up to his face and remained silent for a moment. "That's new. Haven't seen anything like that before."

"What is it?" said Spyro.

"It looks like a giant turtle."

Spyro exchanged glances with Noh and Terrador. "A giant turtle?"

They all watched as slowly, bit by bit, what appeared to be a lumbering boulder in the distance made its way to the moat. When it finally reached the noxious green acid, it simply waded in and kept moving. They watched as it made the journey all the way through the first moat and climbed out on the other side.

"That thing must be pretty sturdy to withstand such an extended exposure to dragon poison," said Terrador. "But if it's like other grublins, then that means it's made out of earth. I've got this thing." Terrador raised a paw up and slammed it down on the wall. Below, the rock covering the back of the turtle shattered. "Easy enough. Hard to miss such a big target."

"Look again," said Spyro.

The sun now glinted off the back of the turtle. Another layer remained unbroken, but it wasn't mere rock. This was far more beautiful. "That's actually kind of awesome," said Wither.

Terrador growled and squinted his eyes at the creature. "That's diamond. And a lot of it. Where did Malefor find that much? Oh well. No matter. I won't be breaking through that any time soon."

"Maybe you could try the legs? Immobilize the thing," said Noh.

"Worth a try." Terrador slammed another paw down. The rock legs of the massive creature busted into several pieces, revealing more diamond. "Well, that's all I'm doing for now. Manipulating earth from this distance is a quick drain."

"Understandable," said Noh as he scratched his chin. "Magnus, is there any way you can focus these weapons on that creature down there?"

"Same with Terrador, it's still a bit out of their range, mate. They could reach it, but the projectiles will lose too much of their velocity at that distance. And if that's diamond, they won't even nick it until it's closer."

They watched as the turtle crunched its way through the spiked barricades and approached the second trench. Spyro held a paw out and said, "Maybe it'll fall head first into that trench and it won't be able to get out. That one's too deep for it to just crawl out. And it's bulky. It has very low maneuverability. Let's just see if it gets stuck."

When the turtle reached the second trench, it stopped. It stood at the edge of the next line of defense and just stood there, unmoving. "Did we win?" said Psy with a grin to Noh.

"I doubt it. Look over there." Noh gestured toward the edge of the invading army.

Wither placed his forepaws on the bulwark and leaned over the wall for a better look. "Is that Obsidius?" Wither watched as the army parted and made way for a young dragon in black armor. When he reached the edge of the outer moat he kept walking. The bottom of the moat rose up and out of the poison to meet his paws, clearing a path as he strode on toward Warfang. As he advanced, a column of grublins followed him.

Noh stared as the young dragon made his way through the first line of defense as easily as the massive turtle had. "Unbelievable. He's undermining our poison moat with his mere presence. No youngling should be able to manipulate their element with that level of proficiency."

"I think you're forgetting that their armor grants them many abilities they should not have access to," said Terrador. "Not to mention, though it shames me to say it, Obsidius was my best student."

"I've caught no sight of Malefor anywhere," said Noh. "Are we to take it that he has left Obsidius in charge of this entire contingent? They appear to be following him."

"Don't forget that Malefor used to use Cynder to control his army. It doesn't surprise me that he's treating his generals exactly in the manner that their titles would suggest."

Wither looked over his shoulder at his father. "I can feel Amophis inside that big turtle thing. It must have a black crystal at its center."

"Of course," said Spyro. "Malefor powered his grublins with dark crystals twenty years ago. He must still be doing it now. So even if that thing does get inside Warfang's walls, your crystals should shut it down."

"They're going to hate that," said Wither. "Wait a minute. They probably tried getting into the city with the portals first, right? Since that failed, why would they think it would be a good idea to break into the city using Amophis?"

"Yarrow informed me that there were some weird spatial distortions in the city just a few minutes before the portals out there opened," said Spyro. "That means that they did try to jump inside the city. So you bring up a good point. Perhaps Amophis isn't all we have to worry about. Malefor did have a lot of tricks back in the day."

"Here comes one now, look out," said Terrador.

Everyone turned toward the army and saw a projectile heading straight for them. "Get down!" Spyro lunged and covered Wither with his body while Terrador did the same for Roxy and Noh for Psy. The weapon was a rock only about the size of a youngling's paw, but when it struck the battlement, it exploded.

After the assault, the elders rose up and looked at the chuck of stone missing from the top of the wall in front of them. Spyro brushed the rubble off of his scales and motioned toward the city. "Roxy, Psy, you two should back up a bit. That was a little too close."

Both of the younglings obeyed and made sure they placed their original teachers between them and the wall.

Yarrow buzzed in Wither's head and thought, "Spyro, Wither, you are needed on the southern wall."

"This way," said Wither. He and his father walked forward and disappeared.

XXX

Famine reached the inside of the outer moat and set his troops to work filling in a segment of the inner trench after he found it too deep to be worth his trouble. Once the gap was filled, the aspidochelone had its orders to advance to the city. The job would last all day, so he plunged his paw into the ground and ripped up a paw-sized rock. He placed a mite on the rock and gave it his next set of instructions.

"I've given you a green crystal fleck so you can survive in that Amophis sapping city. Once you're over the wall, seek out their crystal stocks and eat them. Now go."

Famine let go of the rock and used his Amophis enhanced elemental power to send it flying toward Warfang.

XXX

Wither approached the edge of the southern wall with his father. Several troops consisting of dragons and cheetahs quickly cleared a path for them when they saw the two dragons making their way toward the guardians set to oversee the southern defenses. Cyril turned and greeted Spyro. "Good, you're here. We could use some aid with this little situation before it gets too out of hand."

Spyro and Wither looked over the wall. Thousands of apes were screeching and wailing at the edge of the outer moat, waiting for their general to clear the way for them. Arragor stood proud on a floating island just his size, fifty feet above his army. He put his paws together, touching the backs, and slowly pulled them apart. When he did so, the poison in the moat parted, leaving a wide path for the troops to charge through.

"I just knew he was up to something when I saw him rise into the air on that platform," said Hexus. "So we called for help."

Wither watched as the apes surged through the opening and neared the other side of the moat. Without a second thought he jumped over the wall and soared toward Arragor, his wings tucked firmly to his sides. "Wither, no!" said Spyro, but it was too late.

Wither neared Arragor and saw that he was completely focused on his task. Keeping the poison from ravaging his army took all of his attention. Raising his own arm, Wither held out a paw to Arragor and began to pull. Immediately, the waves trembled and fell, burning and drowning the apes below in filth just before they could reach the opposite shore.

Arragor bristled and looked around. When he finally spotted Wither, he held a paw out to him, but Wither flew back a couple feet and shifted to the top of the wall and out of his reach. He was greeted by cheers and several rough pats on the back by dragons and cheetahs alike. When Spyro reached him, he placed a paw on his shoulder and said, "Well done, son. But don't do that again. That was foolish. You're lucky to make it back so easily."

"Arragor will never catch me off guard. Even with his new powers, he's far too slow for me. It's hard to keep up with someone who can be anywhere at any given moment." Wither then turned to the fields and placed his paws up on the bulkhead, raising himself over the wall. "You hear me, Arragor! You'll never breach this wall while I stand guard."

"Don't antagonize him like that, Wither. You know he has a temper," said Vera as she eyed the dragon on the floating island.

Just as she finished warning Wither, the armored dragon was engulfed in an aura of flames that stretched twenty feet across. His island was turned to embers and ash within seconds. A roar of fury met Wither's taunt and the fire dragon soared through the air toward the wall faster than anything Wither had ever seen. Everyone watched it happen as though in slow motion. The floating sphere of raging flames arrow-headed in an instant. The air itself appeared to stand aside as Arragor closed the distance between them. A loud boom echoed over the battlefield. All of the moisture in the air was vaporized in a second by the edge of the coming heat. Wither watched wide eyed as the stone his paws rested on began to glow like a furnace. As he reared back in pain, his father surged in front of him, knocking him back with a single paw. Spyro reared up, placed one paw on the searing battlement, and caught the tip of Arragor's spear with the other.

Wither picked himself up off the ground and turned to face the scene. He had to shield his eyes, for the glare of Arragor's fury induced fire competed with the brilliance of the sun, still low of the horizon. Spyro, his father, held Arragor and his fire back with a single paw. The flames threatened to consume everyone on the wall. The force of the impact as Spyro caught the assailant emitted a wave of burning energy that rippled out along the wall. Everything was so bright, that it appeared the whole world was on fire. And in the center of the inferno, holding back certain destruction, was Spyro. Wither watched his father slowly close his claws, putting out the fire that nearly killed everyone standing close by. When the spectacle was over, Arragor hung over the edge of the wall, his head in Spyro's paw.

What happened next, shook Wither to his core. Though Spyro typically used his words to communicate, he roared at Arragor the way a great beast does to instill fear in its prey. Then, "How dare you attack my son? Be gone!"

Spyro threw Arragor. As the youngling fell to the earth, Spyro opened his maw and unleashed a beam of lightning that would have put Volteer to shame. It struck Arragor with such ferocity that it carried him in its path straight into the poison moat, where the blast detonated. It sent a geyser of acid skyward, only to rain down on the screeching apes too close to the explosion.

Once the toxic rain had settled, the wall erupted in a chorus of cheers. Hexus and Cyril clapped Spyro on the back, congratulating him on his quick thinking and his ruthless counterstrike, which had saved many lives.

Spyro was quick to shrug them off. He made his way over to his son and turned his paws over. Wither looked down and saw that the pads were bleeding. Only then did he feel the pain. Tears welled up in his eyes and a cry of pain filled the wall. Spyro blew an icy breeze on the burned paws and then grasped them in his own. Wither began to weep even more as the touch set his paws aching and stinging. However, the pain only lasted for a few seconds. Spyro shushed Wither and squeezed his paws tighter. To Wither's surprise, his paws didn't hurt anymore. He looked up at his father, finding himself unable to speak.

After a few more moments, Spyro withdrew his paws. Wither looked down and saw that they were completely healed. There was no trace of blood or burns. They weren't even scarred. "That's something I learned from Yarrow. Who knew I would need to use the life magic he taught me so soon?"

Wither wiped the tears from his eyes, aware of the onlookers that surrounded them on the wall. "Thank you."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Wither shook his head and was immediately floored by a blow to his chest. He landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could catch his breath he was hauled to his feet, fresh tears in his eyes. The worry in his father's gaze was gone now, replaced by fury. When he spoke, it was in a quiet, calm tone. "This is war. Not a game. When you taunt the enemy, you be sure you're ready for them. You do not make yourself vulnerable to attack."

Now Wither was burning again. He could feel himself smoldering at his very core. Everyone was looking at him. He could feel their eyes, their judgement. It was too humiliating. Wither was about to speak, but Cyril pointed to the field and said, "Look."

The poison moat was bubbling where Arragor had landed. Steam was beginning to rise from the acid and the roiling filth burst upward once again. Arragor crawled out of the poison and clawed his way onto the opposite shore.

"Impossible," said Hexus. "He was completely submerged for several minutes. If the blast didn't kill him, the poison should have long ago. He was in there long enough to drown in it."

"That armor protects them," said Spyro. "I bet there's hardly a scratch on it. Even where they aren't covered, there's an energy field. The poison probably never even touched him. Still, I imagine he'll think twice before he tries to come at us like that again."

A buzz filled Wither's head and Yarrow was speaking. "Go back to the northern wall, would you please, Wither?"

"Certainly, Yarrow."

"Oh, and do be less arrogant, if you don't mind."

"You think I was being arrogant?"

"Very."

"All right. I'm sorry, Yarrow."

"Apologize to your father. He was quite worried about you."

Wither turned to his father. "I'm sorry about earlier. I guess I should be more careful."

"All is forgiven," said Spyro. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"Yarrow wants us to go back to the northern wall."

"Lead the way."

Together, father and son stepped forward and were shifted to the northern wall where they had begun their patrol earlier that morning. The battlements were quite active here. Moles and cheetahs were taking positions along the wall, aiming their weapons to the ground below. "What's going on?" said Spyro as he and Wither made their way to the front to see what was happening.

"It's the eeriest thing I think I've ever seen," said Vivian, which was quite a statement coming from the Fear Master. "An army of the dead, it would seem."

Spyro looked below and was met by a horde of skeletal warriors clad in jagged, tattered armor. They dragged rusty swords and chipped battleaxes behind them as they slowly trudged through the acid. It ate away at their bones, turning what remained of their limbs into stumps. Many fell over into the muck and were never seen again, but more kept coming. Those who tumbled into the swampy pit were crawled over by those behind them. They then pushed forward and impaled themselves on the barricades, pushing themselves as far up against them as they could so that their brethren could clamor over the top of them and continue their journey. Several had already made it to the second moat and were simply walking into it, falling to the bottom, where their shattered and broken bodies were slowly piling up, creating a bridge for the rest of the endless horde to walk across.

"If this keeps up, they'll be at the wall before high sun," said Valorie.

"I recognize these troops," said Spyro. "They used to guard the cursed island, Dante's Freezer. What are they doing here? Zar must have made his base there."

"Do you think so?" said Vivian.

"It makes sense. The last member in the Fearsome Four is Death. All of these soldiers were dead long ago. Maybe Zar has some special power over them. Where is he?"

"We don't know who's commanding this contingent," said Valorie. "No clear leader has made themselves known so far. They all just single mindedly push forward."

Wither looked over and saw a mole talking on one their little boxes. He walked over and waited until he was done speaking then tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

"Yes? Oh, it's you. Do you need something?" The mole bore the same red sash that marked him as one of the commanding officers among the moles. That more than likely meant that he had been giving orders to Warfang Control down in Mjölnir.

"Would it be feasible to use the autocannons to thin the ranks down there? I heard they were stationed around the entire perimeter."

The mole scratched his chin and gazed over the wall. "These soldiers appear to already be dead, reanimated by some form of magic. The bullets tear them up a bit, but don't stop them unless they are completely dismembered. Frankly, I think it a waste of the bullets to try and use them as a long distance cutting implement."

Wither watched as the pile of undead soldiers in the second moat grew slowly but steadily higher. The ones on top were starting to reach upward on their side. "We have to do something. I've always thought you moles are rather resourceful and that was before I saw Mjölnir. Isn't there any contingency plan in place for an event such as this?"

The mole eyed Wither, clearly impressed by his intelligence. "As a matter of fact, there is, but I'm afraid to show our hand so soon in the game. We worked for hours burying them."

"Burying what?" said Wither, his curiosity piqued.

The mole looked back to the moat, out across the field choked with soldiers, back to the pile of reaching limbs in the moat and then let out a sigh. "Oh, sod it all." He pushed a button on his box. "Ferrous to Warfang Control."

The box crackled. "We read you, Ferrous. Awaiting your orders."

"Prime the northern mines."

Wither's eyes grew wide and he rushed to the wall where his father was getting into a heated debate with Vivian and Valorie as to how they would clear the field. Wither nudged his father. "I'm telling you the safest method is quick swoops. We'll pick them off one by one." Spyro looked down briefly. "Not now, Wither."

"One at a time? Do you realize how long that would take?" said Vivian. "Not even Valorie can fly fast enough to remove them expediently enough."

Wither nudged his father again. "It's too soon to go charging into battle outside the walls. Why put our own in danger when it isn't necessary yet? Wither, I'm busy."

"I understand your desire for safety, but this is war. Sooner or later someone's going to get hurt. Your method is too conservative. We won't make a big enough dent in their numbers in time," said Valorie.

"Guys," said Wither.

"Of all the people here I would have thought you would be the most invested in the safest strategy, Valorie," said Spyro.

"Excuse me."

"Since you're so convinced, let's just consult with Yarrow about the matter," said Vivian.

Wither tuned in to their conversation. "Yarrow, how should we handle the situation in the north?" asked Spyro.

"Maybe give listening to your son a try?"

Spyro rolled his eyes and looked down. "You were saying?"

Wither pointed to Ferrous behind him and said, "The moles got it."

All of the elders cocked their eyebrows at him at this statement. "What?" said Spyro.

Suddenly a wave of explosions filled the field below. While all of the elders looked dumb struck over the wall, Tera walked over to Wither and placed a paw over her mouth. "Personally, I didn't like any of their ideas anyway."

The elders turned to see the two of them sharing a good laugh. When Wither saw they were staring he straightened up. "Did it work? I can't imagine it didn't."

Spyro shared a sideways glance with his fellow elders before clearing his throat. "Uh, yes. The enemy ranks have been thinned considerably."

"Good," said Wither. "Thanks Ferrous."

The mole turned and waved to him. "No problem. I just wish we could have saved them, but I guess there was really no better time to use them."

Wither nodded and tuned himself to Yarrow. "I thought we were needed on the northern wall."

"So did I. Unfortunately, I was not informed of the preparations that the moles made to defend the city. I tried to work with them, but they seem reluctant to share any information about their security measures for some reason."

"That's weird. I wonder why."

"Who can say? They've rather always been like that. They tend to keep to their own when it comes to matters that they are proficient in."

"That's dumb. How are things in the east? It was looking a little iffy last time we were over there."

"Things are under control, but it is probably where you could make yourself most useful at the moment."

"Say no more." Wither pointed and said, "To the east."

Spyro followed him into the shifting point. Spyro went to stand next to Noh and Terrador. Wither went to Roxy and Psy. "How's it going?"

Psy pointed and said, "They're trying to fill in the ditch."

Wither followed Psy's claw and saw a group of grublins clawing at the dirt behind the aspidochelone. They then made a clumsy effort to ferry the dirt to the edge of the inner moat without getting gunned down by the autocannons. There were many shredded bodies piled around the massive turtle, which sat patiently for its chance to cross the chasm before it. Some of the grublins resorted to using the pile of bodies as a shield, and pushed them into the pit only to be blasted by the autocannons once they threw away their cover.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel," said Magnus. He stood with his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the parapet. "It's like they're not even trying. They stopped being even remotely intelligent as soon as their general disappeared into some sort of portal. Haven't seen him since. Good riddance. He was the scariest thing out there. Kid knew what he was doing."

"Huh? You say Obsidius is gone?"

"That what his name is? Yeah, he's gone all right."

Psy pointed to the autocannons and said, "We've pretty much got things covered here. There's not much you can do except maybe clear away that mess down there."

Wither looked to the ditch again. Though the grublins were doing a terrible job filling in the trench without getting slaughtered, they were accomplishing their task. What little dirt they managed to dig up and carry to the trench was starting to pile up. Not only that, when grublin bodies died, they slowly crumbled and returned to the earth from which they came. There were a great deal of bodies in the pit and as they turned back into rock, dirt, grass, and moss, Wither realized that they just might finish the bridge for the enormous beast waiting to cross. He held a paw out toward the rising pile. After a couple of seconds, it started to shrink. A tiny sink hole appeared in the middle, dirt and pebbles swirling down the drain as the pile continued to disappear. After a few short seconds, the pile was no more than a few pawfuls of earth surrounding a black cloud of nothing where the base of the mound had been.

Wither closed his fist and the cloud disappeared. Psy clapped his paws together. "Bravo. Expertly done, my friend."

"Thanks Psy." Wither walked away from his friends and made his way back to his father. They both looked out over the so called battlefield as the enemy fell in droves. Wither swept his eyes from one end of the enemy lines to the other. There were thousands of them on the other side of the outer moat with a steady stream constantly crossing over the bridge Obsidius made for them. Over a hundred were between the moats and nothing had crossed over to the wall yet. The city was still untouched, yet the enemy was taking heavy casualties.

Without turning Wither addressed his father. "I'm worried. Why is this so easy? I remember all the stories you and mom and Yarrow told me about the last siege Warfang was up against. The army it faced was at least this size and everyone was doing all they could to keep things under control. We're under attack on all sides now from four armies and nothing can get through. Something's wrong."

Spyro looked to his son and let out a clipped laugh without smiling. "I'm glad you're insightful enough to understand that. The elders have been talking about it. True, we didn't have the weapons that the moles have so graciously provided for us this time, but they can only do so much against the sheer power and volume of the armies out there. Something is indeed amiss. We are anxious to find out what."

Wither watched the churning sea of bodies, saw as more grublins fell to the superior weapons of the moles. He envisioned the same happening in the north and south. The buzz of the hive mind filled his head as he opened up to it. "Mom, I've heard no news from the west. What's going on over there?"

The drone of all the voices of Warfang quietened to a low whine like that of a mosquito as Cynder answered back. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Is it that bad?" Wither felt an uneasiness descend upon him. He felt he already knew the answer. If things were bad in the west, Yarrow would have sent him and his father there.

"Wither, there's nothing happening over here."

Wither turned and looked to the west through the city. "You mean no one has tried to cross the defenses yet?"

"I mean nothing is happening. There's no one attacking from the west. It's completely deserted over here. We can't even hear the fighting to the north and south from where we're standing. You wouldn't know there's a war going on."

Without a word, Wither shifted to the western battlements. Elleca and Volteer jumped as he appeared beside them. Elleca rushed over to Wither. "Hey, there you are. What's going on? What's the fighting like? Are we winning?"

Wither ignored her and rushed beside his mother and leaned over the wall. She was right. There was nothing happening. Those stationed to defend the western wall were milling about awaiting their orders. "Had to see for yourself, huh?" said Cynder. "It's eerie. I'd almost prefer a fight. I don't know what to make of this. There are four generals, there are supposed to be four armies. It would make sense that they would attack us from all sides. Something's not right."

Wither turned and looked at Elleca. She sat patiently waiting for him to notice her. "How are you holding up?"

She scratched a wrist and looked over the wall. "I—I'm fine. Just bored, I guess."

Wither looked past her and stepped around her. "Hey, Renna. How about you? Feeling okay?"

"Eh, I suppose." Then she looked into his eyes.

Wither took a deep breath when he saw her face. "What—?" He looked down and grabbed the crystal at her neck, flipping it over in his paw. When he found what he was looking for his grip loosened and he let the gem fall back down to her chest. "Renna. What have you done?"

Renna cocked an eyebrow at his reaction. "How did you—?"

"Notice? I can see the emptiness in your eyes."

Cynder and Volteer walked to where the two younglings stood. "What's the matter Wither?" said Cynder. She eyed Renna and said, "Do you know what's wrong with Renna? She's been acting odd all morning."

Wither whirled around to face his mother and Volteer. "She used the crystal I gave her to remove her emotions. She's an empty shell with a cold mind inside. The part of Renna that makes her Renna is in the crystal."

Cynder and Volteer looked at Renna together now. Cynder leaned down and placed a paw on Renna's shoulder. "Is it true?"

Renna looked down at the ground beneath her feet. "I thought that if I went into battle without nervousness, anxiousness, worry, fear, or anything—I would be—better."

Wither grabbed the crystal he gave her again and began to shout. "That's not why I gave you this! This was meant as a means of protection. I wanted you to be able to defend yourself in the event that your powers weren't strong enough. This is—I don't even know. Dangerous, maybe. Renna, I've never removed a person's emotions before. I didn't even know that I could. I don't know if I can get them back for you."

"You don't need to worry, Wither. I've got them right here." Renna held the crystal up and shook it slightly. An image of Renna silently laughing stared back at him through the facet of the crystal that contained her emotions.

"You don't understand, Renna." Wither hung his head and took a deep breath before continuing. "Maybe this is partially my fault. I gave you my crystal so you could use my power, but you don't know how it works. Renna, have you forgotten? Anything that I remove from existence gets turned into Amophis. Who controls Amophis, Renna?"

Cynder held a paw up to her mouth, her eyes widening in realization. Volteer shook his head and clicked his tongue. The only thing Renna could think to say was a simple, "Oh."

Wither held a paw in the air. "Oh? Yeah, oh. Don't you get it? You really messed yourself up. There's a chance I can still get your emotions back since they're still trapped in the crystal, but I haven't experimented to determine to what extent Malefor controls Amophis. Theoretically, since the crystals are thresholds to the Void, I might still be able to pull them back from the brink of nothingness, but I'm not a hundred percent sure."

"But Wither, what if I don't want them back?"

Wither blinked. "What are you saying? Renna, why would you do this? I know everyone was frightened by the battle, but you've taken things too far. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. Let me help you put your emotions back where they belong."

An intense buzz filled Wither's head and Yarrow was speaking to him. "Wither, your father has been trying to reach you. He wants you to return to him."

"Okay Yarrow, but can you help me?"

"With what, child?"

Wither quickly told Yarrow what Renna had done and awaited his response. There was a pause for several seconds before Yarrow spoke again. "We will talk of this later. For now you need to return to the eastern wall. Your father is worried about you."

Wither pointed a claw at Renna. "We're fixing you up later. I have to go now. I'll see you all soon." With that he shifted back to the eastern wall.

"There you are," said Spyro. "Don't go anywhere without me. It's not safe."

"I was with mom," said Wither once he was by his father's side once more. "There's no activity in the west. Isn't that strange?"

Spyro nodded in agreement. "I suppose. Though, the enemy must have their reasons for holding back."

Wither noticed a shimmering in the air out on the battlefield. "Well, it looks like Obsidius doesn't share that sentiment. I think he's sending in more troops."

Terrador and Noh peered across the plain. Noh raised a paw to shield his eyes and said, "It looks like something's coming through the portal. It's rather large. Oh, they're siege towers. It looks like they mean to climb the wall. But how do they plan to cross the moats, I wonder?"

Wither watched as wicked looking black and red towers on wheels rolled toward the wall. They were just slightly taller than the wall itself and had openings at the top where troops could exit and begin the assault on the wall. The closest ones reached the edge of the outer moat and began to tilt forward. Everyone on the wall watched as, one by one, the towers collapsed into the moat. The top halves crumbled and fell apart when they hit the other side, but the bottom halves stayed stuck in the toxic waters, creating more brides for the rest of the towers following behind to roll over. When the first tower made it past the outer moat Roxy let out a groan. "They're getting closer. How are we going to stop them? I count at least a dozen of them and more keep coming."

Wither looked on as the towers rolled over the spike barricades, pathetically useless in halting these new weapons. "They'll be here in just a few minutes at this rate."

Spyro rolled his head around on his shoulders, popping the joints in his neck. "Now things are starting to get interesting. Let's see if I can make a dent."

The Purple Dragon leaped from the battlements and soared across the plain. His body burst into flames as he dashed into the nearest one and sent it careening backwards into the one behind it. Both crumbled to pieces as they fell to the earth. Cheers erupted around the wall, urging the hero of legend on. He swooped low and exhaled an icy wind as he passed by a third, freezing it firmly in place at its base. As he made his way to the next one in line, the enemy troops inside emerged and released a salvo of arrows at their attacker. While some were deflected by Spyro's hardened scales, others found more tender spots, particularly his wing membranes.

A roar of pain filled the skies as Spyro crashed into the siege tower, toppling it with the sheer force of his momentum. He beat his wings with tremendous strength, barely escaping tumbling to the earth with the war machine. Once he was stable in the air he made his way back to the wall and touched down next to Noh and Terrador. "A fine job Spyro," said Terrador, patting him on the back.

Wither ran over and felt where the arrows had pierced his father's flesh. Blood dripped to the ground, but Spyro was smiling. "It's nothing to worry about. I got hurt worse than this when I was your age. These will heal up in no time, even without red crystals."

Noh looked Spyro up and down before saying, "A few of those wouldn't hurt, though. Take a couple, would you?" He gestured to the stockpile they kept off to the side.

But Spyro could not be persuaded; he claimed that there would be plenty of opportunities to use them in the future. The injuries of others may be more severe, and the precious healing crystals were not to be consumed so frivolously.

The siege towers that had not suffered at the paws of the Purple Dragon continued to roll across the plain below, edging nearer to their destination. The forces of the ground cheered and beat their weapons against their shields as their war machines accomplished what they alone could not. Wither jerked his head toward the battlefield. "Suppose we should do something about the rest of them? I know they're waiting with more arrows, but someone has to do something or they'll be here in a couple of minutes."

Noh stepped up to the challenge. The Shadow Master flexed his paws and gestured to the towers. The sun was still low in the morning sky, casting the shadows of the siege towers towards Warfang. Noh dug his back claws into the stone of the wall and grappled with some invisible object in the air before him. Slowly, with tremendous force, he pushed against the unseen force. As he did so, the shadows of the towers on the ground began to slide back the way they had come. Then the towers themselves began to follow suit.

Everyone along the wall watched in amazement as Noh repelled the towers on his own. Once he had pushed them back far enough, he placed one paw out in front of his body. He placed the other paw up against his chest and began to push it toward his other paw. As the distance between his paws shrank, the long shadows of the towers began to recede back toward the objects that were casting them. As a result, the towers slowly began to tip backward. Once they were far enough over for gravity to do the rest, Noh released his power over the shadows and allowed them to move naturally.

The cheers of the enemy had halted as soon as the towers started to move backwards, but once they were falling, cries of panic filled the field below before they were silenced by the crashing of the towers. Noh ignored the cheers around the wall and rubbed his paws together before setting himself back down on all fours.

Psy looked up at his teacher with the deepest reverence. "Master Noh, I didn't know we could do that."

"We can't," said Noh, poking Psy lightly in the chest. "The Shadow Puppet technique is the most advanced move a shadow dragon can learn. It took me over four hundred years to fully master it. If you want to learn, you'd best start dedicating yourself to the art as soon as possible."

The enemies milled about in a state of utter bewilderment, no doubt wondering how the siege engines that were meant to gain them some advantage were felled by a force they could not identify. The mix of enemy forces swirled below in an angry, volatile fashion as if the chain of command had been broken and no one knew what to do next. Spyro leaned down and spoke directly to his son. "Now's the best time to attack, when the enemy is confused and unfocused."

The Purple Dragon took flight once more and circled the battlefield for a few moments before swooping low and laying waste to all in his path with a sweeping inferno from his maw. The flames spread amongst the enemy ranks as those already ablaze flailed about aimlessly, trying to put out the fires that ravaged their bodies.

And so the day went. Spyro and Wither traveled from one side of the wall to another, assisting wherever they were needed most. It was around high sun when Yarrow interrupted Wither's thoughts as he watched his father spit an ice bomb in the middle of a contingent of apes, freezing the lot of them.

"Wither, you are needed in the caverns below Warfang. Something is happening. I'm receiving reports from our crystal runners that a swarm of strange insects is devouring the crystals. Nothing they can do seems able to stop them."

"What? Insects? I thought only dragons benefited from the crystals."

"It seems this is some new tactic employed against us by our foes, now hurry! I'm told they feed quickly."

Wither jumped into the air and shifted onto his father's back. Before Spyro could react Wither shouted, "Brake!"

Spyro flared his wings to slow his flight. Before he came to a full stop, their surroundings changed around them. They now hovered a few feet above the rocky ground in the crystal caverns under Warfang. Wither had only been down here on a few occasions. Red and green crystals left behind by the dragon ancestors littered the floor for hundreds of yards. They were mostly piled into organized groups, but some still rested in the walls and ceiling where they had grown, waiting to be excavated. Less commonly, the purple fury gem sprung up here and there, but there was a pile big enough to fill Yarrow's garden pavilion in the center of the particular cavern they found themselves in.

An eerie hum coupled with scraping sounds filled the air. Everywhere around them dragons were shouting to one another and chasing clouds of pulsating specks that moved together as one. Whenever the dragons tried to attack the swarms, the clouds would separate for an instant only to reform and continue their assault on the precious gems around them.

Spyro landed roughly and looked around at Wither. "What's going on?"

The answer came from a frantic earth dragon who came running to the new arrivals. "Oh, thank the ancestors you're here. They just keep eating. There's no end to them. It started off as a small group. We thought they were just ordinary gnats, but then there were more of them. Before we knew what was happening, there were thousands of them. Now they're eating all of the crystals they can get ahold of. They've already consumed an estimated four days' worth. If this keeps up, we'll have nothing left by the end of the day. It's like the more they eat, the more there are."

Spyro rushed to a pile of crystals that was covered in the small insects. Wither looked at them with him. They were no bigger than a scale, but they were able to cleave off small flecks of the crystals with their powerful jaws. Wither watched as a few of the insects fluttered off of the gems and carried their flecks to the floor of the cavern. They dropped their cargo and began gnawing away at the rock beneath them. That's what was making the constant grating noise. Then, when a tiny chip had been carved out of the stone, the bugs would take the crystal fleck to it and insert it into a nearly microscopic hollow set into it. The chip of rock would then sprout gossamer thin wings and fly back up to the crystals with its creator to repeat the process.

Wither raised his snout from the floor after witnessing this and said, "They're rocks. Just tiny rocks with a piece of crystal in them. Like mini grublins."

"I think that's exactly what they are," said Spyro. "Obsidius must have kept the crystals in these green so that they could get past your crystals. But how might we get rid of them? There are so many, and they're too small to get them all."

"I guess I'll give it a try," said Wither with a grin. He focused on a cloud of swirling mites and pulled on the energy inside their crystals. Immediately, they fell to the floor with barely a sound. He selected another swarm and did the same. "This is easy. They're so tiny they don't fill me with hardly a pawful of power. And since they aren't using Amophis the power is draining pretty much instantly."

More and more mites rained down upon the floor as he spoke. In just a few seconds, there were none left to be found. "Did you get them all?" said Spyro.

Wither looked around, but saw no movement. "I don't know. They're too small to see if there's just a few of them left. It's hard to say. You know, I just thought of something. Getting rid of these things might actually be awful. As long as there's just one left, they'll always come back. I hope that's all of them, or we'll have to keep doing extermination duty over and over again."

"It's certainly a daunting prospect," said Spyro.

The earth dragon who greeted them earlier stepped forward after a look around. "I see no more movement either. We'll keep an eye out down here to see if they return. If they do, we'll tell Yarrow right away."

Spyro thanked him and looked back down at his son. "It's been a long day. Are you getting hungry? It's about when we eat our lunch now."

"Think we can eat with mom? It's not like she's been busy at all."

Spyro knit his eyebrows together and blew a puff of smoke from his nostrils. "I don't know why Yarrow insists on keeping her posted there. I understand the need to have forces on standby in case something comes up, but she could really be used elsewhere today. I can think of a few times she would have been helpful."

"Even so," said Wither, "he said nothing about what she had to do while they waited. At the very least, we can eat on the western wall with her, right?"

Spyro agreed and had Wither take them home to fetch themselves a meal. Wither then shifted them to the western wall where they tracked down Cynder based on the directions given to them by the moles and cheetahs leaning against the parapet. They found her playing I Spy with Volteer and their students.

"I spy with my little eye, something that is grey," said Cynder, while lying on her side and staring at the stone she continuously tapped a claw against.

"Is it me?" asked Wither. His father placed the meat meant for the three of them down and took a seat among them.

Cynder's eyes suddenly crinkled at the sight of her family and she rose to a sitting position. "No, but it should have been. You're a far more welcome sight than the wall."

"You completely and utterly ruined it," said Volteer.

"How have my boys been today?" said Cynder. She placed her paws gently on her husband and traced over his wounds with a worried expression.

"They're nothing. The ones who gave them to me weren't so lucky."

"I can imagine," said Cynder. She gave him a kiss on his forehead and turned to her son. "And what about you? I'd better not find any scratches on you, too, or I'll have words for Yarrow."

Wither couldn't help but laugh at his mother's mock overprotectiveness. "I'm fine, mom. Yarrow hasn't asked me to do anything dangerous yet."

"And he won't, if he knows what's good for him." Cynder sat back down next to Volteer and gestured to the food Spyro had brought her. "Sorry for eating in front of you."

"It's quite all right, my dear. Our food should be coming around here soon anyway. Don't you worry about a thing."

With Volteer's blessing, Cynder nodded to Spyro, who began to thaw the frozen meat with a low flame. When the food was ready, the three began to eat. Cynder asked Spyro and Wither about their day. Spyro told her how he had received the wounds in his wings and Wither told her about the incidents with Arragor and the strange mites in the crystal caverns.

When he was finished with his tale, Cynder pat her son on the back. "I'm proud of you. Sounds like you've been a great deal of help already. More than anyone else over here can say. It's been dull, dull, dull all morning. I tried striking up conversation with Renna and Elleca, but Elleca is just as bored as I am and couldn't think of much to talk about, and Renna is—well—not herself."

Wither wiped a streak of blood from his face and walked over to the girls where they stood next to Volteer. When he got closer he could hear Volteer regaling them with the story of the famous lost dragon city of old, Aegis.

"Aegis was a grand city, according to legend, a sanctuary granted to us by the dragon gods themselves. The most ancient, decrepit books in the library say that it was the first of our cities. The arcane texts also say that Aegis was dubbed such on account of the fact that it was shielded by the very power of the gods themselves."

"You don't really believe in the dragon gods, do you, Master Volteer?" said Elleca as she pat the ground next to her for Wither to have a seat.

"Some still do," said Volteer. "But it has been many millennia since we started sending our prayers solely to the ancestors."

"Why? What happened?"

Volteer shifted his legs under himself. "Who can say? There is no longer anyone left alive who can remember. I suppose it would have something to do with the fact that the gods of legend are—shall we say—absent in our lives."

Elleca pointed a claw at Volteer and raised an eyebrow at this remark. "But it's the same with the ancestors, isn't it? No one ever hears from them once they go to the other world. Why do we still honor them when the majority of our people shun the idea of the gods for that very reason?"

Volteer tapped a claw against the ground in an exaggerated arm swing. "That is a very good question, Elleca. The reasons for this are manifold, but I'll do my best to explain it simply enough. The dragon gods from the old stories have become nothing more than that over the millennia, stories. Whereas the ancestors we know to be very real, for how else could we have come to be here? We remember the most recent of ancestors after they have left us and know them to be true, so it only stands to reason that there were others before them and so on and so forth. However, this still begs the question, where did the first ancestors come from? That question is one that is only explained by the stories surrounding the gods. And it is for that reason that others still believe that the gods may still be out there watching over us."

"But then why don't they help us with our problems, if they're watching over us? What good does silent watching do anyone?"

Volteer shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps they cannot help us for the same reason that the ancestors cannot. Or better yet, perhaps they do help us indirectly, in the way that the ancestors do with the crystals. Maybe we just can't see how it is done."

Elleca seemed unsatisfied by this response and flicked her tail back and forth. "So anyway, whatever happened to Aegis?"

"Ah, I'm glad you remembered our original topic. Aegis was said to be shielded by the power of the gods themselves. However, one day, according to legend mind you, the gods revoked their protection. A great calamity wracked the city in a single night, and the next day it was simply gone."

"Gone? That's it? What happened though?"

"No one knows," said Volteer, shaking his head. "The stories regarding Aegis are nearly as old as the ones about the gods. No one really knows for sure if there ever was an Aegis. It could just be a story."

"Well, where was it?"

"I don't know, Elleca. It could have been anywhere in Avalar. Although, there have been many tales from nomads and other travelers visiting Warfang in the past. Sometimes, they speak of a city far up north at the western edge of the Sage Wood. Every one of these stories is always the same. They claim to have seen a glorious city shining bright in the golden rays of the setting sun, but then they blink or look away briefly. And just when they realize what they may have seen and look again, it's gone."

"Have you ever gone to check it out for yourself?"

Volteer sighed and looked off toward the horizon. "I've always wanted to, even if it would probably just be a wild goose chase, but my duties as Lightning Master keep me here in Warfang. Though maybe someday when I've relinquished my mantle."

The Lightning Master gazed off dreamily at the horizon again. Since it was apparent his mind was on other things, Wither turned to Elleca. "How have you been holding up?"

"It's boring not being close to the action, I guess, but at least Volteer has a million and one stories to tell. It really passes the time."

Wither nodded and looked past Elleca to where Renna sat quietly watching the horizon with Volteer. With a jerk of his head he said, "What about her?"

Elleca puffed up her cheeks and let out a deep sigh. "I don't even know. She hasn't said two words all day. She's barely even moved. She just sits there with that thousand-yard stare."

Wither got up and sat next to Renna, she turned her head to stare at him. "Hi."

"Hi," Wither said back with a half-smile. "Renna, how do you feel?"

Renna raised a paw and waved it in the air, "Eh."

"Renna, don't you think you should put your emotions back?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I don't want to."

Wither stared at her for a moment without saying anything. She said nothing more on the subject either. Wither focused his mind on the crystal around her neck. A strange feeling responded to his contact, like it was welcoming him, but when he tried to order it to give back its contents, the contact recoiled. Frowning, he slowly reached a paw up toward the necklace, but was stopped when Renna suddenly slapped his paw away. "Leave me be, Wither. Things are better this way. I'll not be tortured by misery at the prospect of war nor by indecision when dealing a fatal blow to an enemy."

"Renna, this isn't the right way to handle your problems. Everyone else but you has prepared for this war in a healthy way and is dealing with it. You're just shoving the problem away."

Just then Spyro called to Wither. "Wither, it's time to head back out. Come on."

Wither settled his gaze on Renna and said, "This isn't over. Yarrow won't allow you to stay like this, and neither will I." With that he walked away, leaving her to stare blankly out over the wall.