It was a day like any other.
She couldn't have known, of course. Nobody could have known. She thought she'd memorized the story and could tell every little detail of Spyro's legend, but this just wasn't in it. It was an afterthought.
The morning started normally enough. The girl was a bit drowsy, but she had slept a little on that hillside in the snow, so she was feeling alright. Tea and reading with Volteer, chatting with Cyril and Terrador... A typical, peaceful day. Ignitus was going to the market, so she joined him. It was beautiful outside, just a bit cloudy with intense blue peeking through the white. On a day like this, it felt like not much could really go wrong.
As usual, Ignitus let her chatter on unhindered. "...And I'm probably going to go see Auren and Tyren later, since he invited me for dinner again. But he wanted me to meet him somewhere first. Wonder why."
The girl pulled out the note from her pocket, fingering the soft parchment. He'd handed it to her during her morning walk, then dashed away without a word.
Meet me at the waterfall at evening's first bell.
-Auren
Unlike Cedric's scrawl, Auren's handwriting was careful and looped–she was pretty jealous as her own attempts produced nothing but chicken-scratch–and though she had no clue why he'd need to meet her there specifically when she was coming over later, she shrugged it off.
The market was as crowded as it had ever been. Last night's snow had left teams of moles grunting as they shovelled it onto the sidewalk, and stallkeepers hadn't yet bothered removing the piles that covered their striped cloth roofs. It left the city sparkling, nearly blinding in the sunlight.
Everything was so pretty and bright that the girl couldn't help but be happy. The sun was shining, the air a pleasant chill. She continued chattering as they made their rounds, browsing the food and wares the great market circle had to offer.
But as she bent down over a jeweller's pretty necklaces, something caught her eye. From the east, some birds were swooping in, so tightly packed that they looked like a big black blob. The girl straightened and covered her eyes from the harsh sun as she squinted into the distance.
They were getting closer, too, and fast. It looked like they were holding something in their talons, so were they messenger hawks carrying a package? If the bloody sun could get out of her face...
The girl's eyes widened and her hand slowly dropped as the creatures swooped in, nearing the wall. Those weren't birds. A chill rushed through her body like a cold arrow piercing her heart, and everything around her seemed to dim with her terror.
She wanted to scream but her breath caught in her throat and she went still. But she managed to reach over and touch Ignitus' shoulder, though her hands were shaking. When he looked at her, she could only point to the horizon, to the drooling furred monsters that were descending like a tsunami on the city.
As the realization dawned on Ignitus' face and at once she felt to be on fire, she opened her mouth to scream the word, but someone else's voice came out.
"DREADWINGS!"
She turned and saw a cheetah pointing at the sky, his mouth still agape. At once, the whole market hushed and followed his pointing finger. For the first time since she had come to Warfang, the child could not hear a single thing.
As they watched the creatures draw closer, the girl could see now what they were carrying, suspended by chains. Metal boxes. Filled with explosives, if she remembered right.
The crowd stared, speechless, as the first Dreadwing dropped its payload on Warfang East, then the next, then the next. The explosions seemed to rock the city, lighting their faces red for just a moment. But nobody could move to run or scream. They were all frozen there, watching as Warfang began to burn.
It was the horns that snapped them out of their trance, from the north-east and north-west watchtowers. Like blaring alarms they resounded over the city, warning that an army was approaching from the north.
And then the market erupted into chaos.
Everybody screamed and scrambled to get into buildings as the bomb sweep drew closer, pushing each other over in their haste. Children screamed and cried as they were separated from their parents. Ignitus snapped into action immediately and ran about yelling for citizens to get inside, rallying those who could fight to run to the gates. Luckily the bombing stopped a moment, though the lull was only brief as the Dreadwings split off and began sieging the rest of the city.
But the girl still stood motionless in the middle of the square, watching with wide eyes the place where the first explosives had been dropped. She couldn't take a step. Slowly, she brought a heavy arm to her vision and stared down at her hand. It was shaking violently.
The market was beginning to clear when the fire Guardian finally noticed his charge standing stricken in the middle of the square. He rushed over. "What's the matter?" he barked. "You need to get to safety!" There was no telling where they'd bomb next.
Finally, the girl snapped out of her trance. "That..." She pointed at the initial impact, trembling, "That's where Auren's house is!"
Her heart seemed to stop at her own words, and suddenly, life rushed back into her body. She took off down the street towards his house, running like every monster in the world was biting at her heels.
"Wait!" Ignitus yelled. But seeing she wouldn't listen, he took off after her as well.
She ran through roads that had once been familiar but now lay in ruins, houses collapsed, rubble thrown about. Through alleys that had been flooded, where she had to scramble up chunks of stone, through backyards coated in dust. People pushed through her and Ignitus, trying desperately to get away.
Around her, explosions deafened her ears and fires raged. The swarm of Dreadwings passed over her head, blacking out the sun for an instant as their shadows darkened the streets. She looked up and could almost meet the eyes of the apes riding them, but they didn't drop explosives on her. So she kept running.
Auren will be fine, she told herself as her feet pounded on the ground. She'd entered the nice neighborhood that he lived in, though not much was left of it. Pretty gardens were now blackened and burning; once-tall houses sat sagging at best or in piles of rubble at worst.
She saw blood seeping over the pavement, and then nearly tripped over a body that lay bleeding and dead in the street. Its legs were bent at odd angles, his face contorted into a death scream. He'd dragged himself away from his ruined house, but had bled out in minutes. She didn't pay him a thought as she continued sprinting haphazardly through the streets.
Everything will be the same! she thought desperately as she found the hill that led to Auren's mansion. The climb seemed longer than usual, like the hill was growing away from her, but she pushed on despite her screaming legs. It'll all be fine.
When you round this corner, she thought, just a few trees blocking her view of the house, his house will be there, just like always.
She skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. The manse that had once stood proud and magnificent before her now was naught but smoldering wood beams and chunks of stone. A few walls stood, but all the floors had collapsed. Coloured glass lay in pieces over the lawn, Tyren's toys sat charred and blackened in the yard. Only the stone brick tower still stood intact, though it sagged as if it may fall at any moment.
Ignitus rounded the corner at the same moment, and he had only a second to take it in before the girl snapped. "AUREN!" she screamed, stumbling forward in her haste to get to the house.
She saw it. The spot of sky blue in the black and brown carnage. The girl scrambled frantically over, dropping and skidding as she reached him. Only his head and one arm were poking out of the debris. His face was covered in soot, his eyes closed, a dribble of blood running out of his mouth.
"Auren..." She touched him, but he didn't stir. Wildly she slapped at his face, trying to wake him, but he wasn't, he wasn't moving. Her hands dropped to her sides as she stared shaking and wide-eyed down at his too-still form.
She didn't realize she was crying until the girl saw her tears hitting the ash-stained dirt, sending the black swirling. But she wasn't done. She hopped to her feet as Ignitus slowly approached, looking incredibly worried and weary at the prospect of explaining that her friend was gone.
"Help me get this off him!" The girl grabbed the end of the beam that was crushing the dragon and pulled, but it refused to budge. Ignitus could only stare. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss for words, for wisdom... For anything.
"Why aren't you helping me?!" she screamed, whirling back. Her black eyes were dilated and insane, her dirt-smudged face marred with tearstreaks. "We can still save him! We just have to dig him out of there!"
The girl dropped to the ground, scrabbling at the rubble crushing Auren until her fingers bled. He couldn't die. Not like this. How could he just go like that, without even a goodbye?! That wasn't right! She had to say goodbye, she had to!
She took his pulse, refusing to believe it. When his wrist produced nothing, she checked his neck, then his chest, praying for even the slightest, saddest thump.
Ignitus stepped forward, but before he could speak, another dragon rounded the corner. It was Kerridan, looking haggard. His bright green scales were stained with a splash of blood. "Ignitus, we need you on the front lines! The apes are swarming, and there's some other kind of creature with them!"
The grublins had risen, and the decaying apes were with them. Exhaling sharply, the Guardian cast a glance at the hysterical girl who was still fussing over her dead friend. She would be of no help fighting–she'd just get herself killed–and he knew that even if he dragged her to a shelter, she'd just run right back here.
"Get to safety as soon as you can," he called back. It was all he could do. Turning, he and Kerridan took to the skies, flying towards the besieged gates.
And the girl was alone.
She tried again to at least get Auren out of the rubble, out of that terrible place, but she collapsed next to his body after failing to move the beam. The tears were gone as she stroked his face, the blue scales still shiny like pearls though beginning to dull, the eyes that would never open again.
She had just seen him, only a few hours ago... When he'd handed her the note. It was burned into her memory, his gaze piercing her skull like a laser, a light that had burned out. Those bright blue husky eyes meeting hers, sincere as ever, the warmth that briefly touched her hand as he put the note into it. And then he'd turned and run off, only casting one last smile over his shoulder. In a moment, he was gone.
And she'd just stood there and watched him go. But how could she have known... How could she have known that would be the last time she'd ever see him?!
Opening her eyes, she saw something clasped in his paw. Had he known that he was going to die and taken it out? The girl knew that she shouldn't, but... Feeling like she was violating some unspoken rule of the dead, she pried open his claws. A piece of thin drawing paper was there.
If it was a death note... She couldn't bear to read it now. The child pocketed it and hunched over her best friend's body again. It shouldn't have been this way. Auren had died alone, with no last word, no goodbye, nothing.
The girl rose on unsteady feet, looking around what was left. Auren was gone... But there was someone else, too. And, dead or alive, she had to find him.
So she made her way into the rubble. The once magnificent house now lay at her feet. There was the golden harp, which still stood in the forbidden music room, but no other furnishings remained. Couches and desks lay toppled and blasted; piano keys were spread over the floor.
She nearly tripped over Dia.
The girl bent down to touch the blue dragon, but she was already long cold. She lay in what remained of the kitchen, half buried in stone, but somehow... She looked peaceful. Poor Dia wouldn't have to worry anymore.
She picked through the rubble in the kitchen, but she didn't find who she was looking for, so the teenager moved on. The dead look in her eyes grew ever more desolate as she picked through the rooms. He was probably dead, she knew. If this world could take Auren away from her, why should she expect even the tiniest sliver of hope, of justice?
Once the girl had looked through all the ruins, her gaze turned to the tower, which somehow seemed to be sagging even more. But before she could take a step towards it, the great building gave a mighty groan and a grumble, then at once fell, sending bricks and dust flying.
Panic flooding her, she rushed over to the new addition to the ruins, coughing as she reached the remains of his tower. Falling to her knees, the wild-eyed girl dug at it, tossing bricks aside, until finally... something sparkling peeked through at her.
Stopping, the girl caught her breath, then unearthed the shiny-scaled creature. Now free, he unfurled himself from the tight ball he'd been wound into and gazed up at her. He was so small, so impossibly tiny. And he looked more terrified than he ever had before, his little chest heaving, tears running down his blue and purple cheeks as he saw not his brother, but Fighter.
But he was there. Tyren was alive.
Wordlessly, the girl reached down to pick him up. But once his legs were freed, the boy snaked around her and climbed up onto her back, clinging to her soot-stained black robe for dear life. He didn't weigh a thing, and she could barely even tell he was there. So, with Tyren on her back with his head nestled into her shoulder, they left.
Everything was gone. Everything except little Tyren.
She avoided Dia, though she knew that Tyren was certainly aware of what had happened. But she couldn't stop him from seeing his brother as they stepped out of the ruins and into the yard. His mangled, bloody form, jutting garishly out of the wreckage. It had begun to snow grey, ashy remnants from the explosions that had decimated Warfang, and his blue scales were turning black.
"Auren?" Tyren's whimper was so pitiful that the girl nearly burst into tears again, but she kept her dead eyes dry and on the ground.
Her voice was as stony and cold as the great walls. "Auren is dead."
And she walked away from the grave that had once been a bright, happy home. Away from the memories of what once was, what should have been. What is not, and will never be again.
~~...~~
She'd grown numb to the bombs. That short whistling, sometimes distant, sometimes as if it was right behind her, then the explosion that deafened her no matter how far away it was. The brief flash of light, the flames that flared up around the bombshell. It was a constant cacophony, an eerie, haunting song.
The girl stumbled along, barely feeling the stone beneath her feet, or the weight of Tyren on her back. She didn't know her destination. She just had to get away. So through the streets blocked by rubble and craters she walked.
But as she went on, her and Tyren stopped when they heard a long moan from a nearby ruins. It had come from an old greying cheetah, his cane snapped and broken nearby, sticking out from beneath a beam much like Auren had been. But it was just his legs stuck there. No internal organs had been crushed; he had a chance. The girl walked over and bent down, alert for the first time in several minutes.
"Tyren, help me." Her voice was quiet yet commanding, and the boy scrambled off her back. Together, they managed to lift the beam crushing the old cat.
The girl crouched next to him. "Can you walk?" Too in pain to speak, the cheetah quickly shook his head. So, leaning down, she scooped up his frail form in her arms. Just like Serena had said, cheetahs weighed nearly nothing. Tyren climbed up onto her back and they were off.
She wasn't quite sure where she was going to bring him until she saw it in the distance, standing tall among heaps of rubble and half-destroyed buildings. The councilhouse. Finally, a destination, a light in the dark.
The place was empty. Muted sunlight streamed in through the tall pointed windows, illuminating the lobby scattered with abandoned papers that had been left as they'd evacuated in a tizzy. But it was a great stone and marble building, and it would not fall.
She brought the old cheetah to a couch and gently lay him down on the plush pillows, careful to not disturb his broken legs. "I can't heal you," the girl said quietly, averting her eyes. "But I'll try and send a doctor."
The teenager had straightened to leave when the feeble old cat reached out to catch her arm. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, a faint smile of gratitude on his weary old face. "You are a kind child."
A bit of emotion rushed back unbidding into her eyes. But she brushed it off quickly and shook her head, returning to her old state. She couldn't afford to feel anything, or she might collapse with grief. "Don't. It's nothing."
Turning, she tried to reach around to grab Tyren and put him down, but the little boy shirked away from her touch. "Come on, Tyren," she said, a bit of exasperation seeping into her voice as he clambered over to the other side of her back. "You have to stay here. It's dangerous."
But the hatchling refused, shaking his head. "No!"
It was the second word he'd said, and it made her stop. Sighing, she shook her head, but allowed him to stay as she pushed those great doors open and stepped into the blazing sunlight. The explosions had tapered off now. All around the city, smoke was rising, but the skies were clear of Dreadwings. The bombing was over. Now it was just the main battle.
The girl stepped into the street and stared towards the gates in Warfang North, where the fight was surely raging on. She could hear the distant shouts, the clanging of steel. Here was her chance. She could join them now, slice her way through enemies to defend the place she'd loved, just like she had dreamed and fantasized about.
But something was holding her back. She glanced at her shoulder, at Tyren who sat motionless there as he clung to her neck. He wasn't going to leave; he'd be in danger.
And, well, there was something else. Though her face was emotionless, her heart sealed away, when she thought about joining that battle... a twinge of fear resounded within her. She wasn't brave or strong enough. She would die. And though she didn't care about that anymore, Tyren would be alone.
So she turned away, going to search for a doctor.
But as she wandered slowly through the city, she came across more people who needed help. A child sobbing in the street, "Where's–my–maaaa-ma?" The girl brought her back, and the old cat, now a bit more in good humour, kept her entertained.
She set out again in search of a doctor, and instead found a half-conscious mole with a giant hunk of metal sticking out of her chest. So she carried her to the councilhouse too. Then she stumbled on a dragon who had been hit by the edge of an explosion and sent flying. She couldn't carry him, but she let him lean on her as she led him to safety as well.
And then she found another. And another. And another. When asked, Tyren would climb down to help lift debris or pull out a stuck person. Otherwise, he sat perched on her back, watching silently the havoc that had been wreaked upon Warfang.
She wasn't thinking or feeling as she did any of this. It wasn't about saving people, or doing the right thing. It was just something to do. Something to keep her mind off Auren. Because if she stopped, she knew that she would see his face again.
Talk spread to the doctors, nurses, and other good-hearted people of Warfang. When Zara got word of a black-cloaked cheetah looking like the reaper, who instead carried people to safety in the councilhouse, he had to see for himself. What greeted him when he pushed open those doors was a room filled to the brim with patients. Every couch was taken up, every spot on the floor laid with pillows and blankets. Doctors and nurses rushed about trying to stabilize those in critical condition, or carrying out the dead to make room for the living who needed their spot.
He only gaped for a moment. Then, sighing, the good doctor closed his mouth and got to work.
It wasn't just the girl now. Those who couldn't fight had begun to form search teams, and together they swept the rubble. Soon, the councilhouse and all its rooms were packed to the brim. Even volunteers had to stand in line.
But the girl kept wandering. Eventually, she couldn't find anyone left. Everyone who could be saved had been. So she turned to the north, to where the battles raged on. Even the search teams didn't dare venture there, but she couldn't stop.
Cyril stood snarling at a group of grublins and apes that looked more like skeletons than living creatures. The apes howled as they were rooted to the ground by a cold blast, but the mossy monsters seemed to slide right out of his icy grasp.
Sharp claws flashed out, cleaving one grublin entirely in half, and he threw one off that tried to jump on him. The rest of them, though mindless creatures, had enough sense to scatter. The ice dragon sighed and caught his breath, the puffs of vapour from his breath fading.
Out of the corner of his blue eyes he saw someone familiar. The Guardian turned to shout at her to help him, but had to stop and stare a moment. What was she doing? The little brother of that mouthy ice dragon was perched on her back, oddly, and she stood hunched over the blackened rubble of what had once been a house.
But it was the look in her eyes that really startled him. She was always so bright and animated, barely able to keep her mouth shut for a moment, her black eyes sparkling. Now... They seemed to be staring a thousand miles into the distance, yet seeing nothing. Completely lifeless, like a corpse.
Suddenly, a small red paw thrust out of the rubble to meet her outstretched hand. Out clambered a little fire dragon with scales like blood, stumbling down the bricks, then next, an even smaller yellow one.
"Soni isn't coming out!" the tiny gold dragon cried, her pale soot-stained maw opening into a wail.
The girl's grimace was invisible under her mask. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned down and said something to Tyren, who jumped off her and pushed up the beam blocking the way into the hole. Wasting no time, she dove into the dark.
Cyril nearly stepped forward to go drag the stupid girl out of that deathtrap, but she was back in a moment, an orangey-yellow dragon in one arm. The hatchling was unconscious, half his face blackened and ruined by burns as his head lolled to the side. Tyren let go of the beam and it crashed down, the hollow in the rubble caving in.
And with that she set off, three dragons at her heels and one in her arms. Cyril finally closed his mouth, realizing what she was doing. Fine, as long as she was helping. He turned his attention back to the battle.
But he did see something else when he glanced over a few moments later, and it was too late to warn her. An ape was sprinting, his furless, mangled face twisted into an insane grin. The bones in one arm were visible, as if the skin had slid right off, and he was headed right for her. The Guardian shot an icicle, but he missed.
The girl, however, heard the whoosh a few feet behind her and became aware of footsteps pounding on the blasted stone. She stiffened and stopped, glancing behind her and putting the burned hatchling down. The children had only a moment to turn and cry out as the ape neared with his outstretched blade.
In an instant, she pulled her sword out of its sheath and thrust it behind her, catching the ape in the dead center of his chest. A clatter as he dropped his sword let the girl know that she'd hit her mark. She rolled her head to the side, glaring into his wide eyes with her empty ones as he gasped and struggled on the end of her blade. His thick viscous blood seeped out onto the steel and dripped down to the yellow bricks.
She pulled out her sword with an inhuman snarl, the force pushing the ape backwards and leaving him collapsed on the ground. The children scrambled as his blood splattered onto the ground, running behind her and peering out from the robe with big eyes. Except Tyren, who just looked away.
Her second kill. This time, she felt nothing.
"Let's go." Her voice was sharp and flat, and the children didn't question her.
Well... she could certainly take care of herself! As the girl picked up the unconscious kid and walked away, the ice Guardian returned to his own battle. But, with the look on her face, the lack of expression in her usually-animated eyes... Why did he feel like something was wrong?
It was hours later when what little was left of Malefor's forces finally retreated, and stragglers were picked off. Even so long after the bombing, it was still raining ash. The haggard warriors' fur and scales were streaked with grey as they finally sheathed their swords and shut the blasted gates.
Though a majority had died in the initial bombing, the death toll was enormous. Corpses lay in the street and buried in their houses. The dead would have to be collected and identified, rubble cleared from the streets, enemy soldiers burned. But that was a job for the volunteers. For now, it was time for the soldiers to rest. And tomorrow, they'd begin to rebuild, as they had so many times before. They'd never seen a raid this scale, but this was nothing new.
Near everyone who could be rescued was safe in the councilhouse, and only one team remained on the streets. They would sweep the city all night, listening for cries of help. There were still survivors buried in the rubble, and a lot of work to be done to save them.
With the battle over, Ignitus had regrouped and explained to the other Guardians what had happened, and the fragile emotional state their friend would probably be in. And with the rumours flying about, they all knew where to find her.
The councilhouse was bustling, though the moans were less now. Most of those who were going to die had done so and been laid out in a line across the street, where the stench of death wouldn't reach their haven. Now it was just a matter of caring for those in pain.
They found her in the courtroom, where the rows of cushioned seats now served as beds for the weary. Tyren had finally dismounted, but he sat in a dark corner, so still that he may have been a statue. The girl was hunched over a reddish-brown cheetah, changing his bandage. Her hands were washed clean, but her face still was streaked with dirt and ash and blood.
"Lucky the shrapnel went through," she said starkly. Her voice was hoarse from inhaling so much smoke, but flat and all-business.
Glancing up and seeing the Guardians, she turned away quickly, tying the bandage with a bit more vigor. "Very lucky. Went straight through your arm, and burned so hot that it cauterized. Might've severed a few nerves, but better than an infection."
The four approached, hanging back so as not to crowd her. "It's time to rest, young one," Ignitus said gently. "You've done more than enough."
She shook her head. With her patient fixed up, she stood and headed to the next one in the line. "Gotta keep working," she mumbled, sounding so incredibly tired. "Have to. They need me. I have to do something, I have to, I can save them... I..."
She stopped and stared at the mole who lay before her, sleeping peacefully. The girl knew she needed to change his bandage, but her arms wouldn't move anymore. She hunched down, closing her eyes. "I couldn't save him."
It was Terrador who stepped forward and lay a heavy green paw on her shoulder. His voice was short and deep, but it said everything it needed to. "Enough."
The girl stopped, the gauze dropping out of her hands and rolling onto the floor. Slowly, feeling as if the world was pushing her down, she rose. Tyren came to her and let her pick him up, and she held the little hatchling close in her arms.
It isn't enough, she thought as she walked between the rows of seats. It wasn't enough.
But she let herself be led away. Away from this house of death she had created, and into the future, now barren and bleak without Auren in it.
