It had been a full ten days since the sieges on Urgussen, Larentine and Kryondyke. Stalking through the wet shrubs and plantation of the quiet, still swamp, Spyro thought back on the events that had happened since then. He believed it had been a very productive ten days, especially considering the progress he had made with his Dark Army.
Eight days ago, he had created altered variations of the shadowclaws and venomfangs in an attempt to 'evolve' them. He'd figured out how to make them sentient, much like Shorok and Vhara, allowing them all to speak in the common tongue. This had taken a while to achieve due to the mass of dragons he had been working on. He'd also allowed them to be able to change their scale colour to disguise themselves among normal dragons. Of course, he could see through these facades, as could Shorok, Vhara, Drachen, and all the other dark dragons.
They had been insanely difficult to create, however. Almost every time the dark dragons would take their first breath upon coming to life, they would either implode or explode, and after many occurrences of this happening, Spyro had come to the conclusion that the dragons were carrying too much magic inside their bodies, and it was causing their own essence cores - which were already artificial - to break apart due to an overload of magic. Because of this, he'd had to take out the energy gems inside them, which made them easier to kill.
He had sent the sentient dark dragons out into the world four days ago to find some easy unsuspecting victims: people he could persecute or enslave, even children he could raise in Dark Peak. It really didn't matter what they found, as long as it was something useful. He'd also connected their minds to his own so they could converse to and fro with him telepathically, which was being used right now to alert him of who they had found and to see whether they would be worth taking back to Dark Peak.
Another piece of progress that Spyro was really happy about was the younglings that he had collected. The sieges on Urgussen, Larentine and Kryondyke had been extremely successful, piling up a multitude of eighty younglings between the ages of newborn and six, and in the time that had passed since then, they had received another forty. Each youngling had been put into a large 'cell' which had been excavated by many earth dragon slaves under Drachen's watch. Inside this cell, they would get to know each other before their proper training began. This was to get them used to each other so they would develop good comradery and trust between them. After all, he didn't want violent outbreaks between any of them when their task was at hand. They needed to get used to each other. The plan was to have them there for a couple of weeks before they were to be injected with dark energy, as it'd give them even more strength and abilities to help get rid of anyone that was against him, as well as all the oppressors that put down people. After that, the training would really begin.
And now, since sending out the sentient dark dragons, three of the venomfangs had alerted the Dark Overlord of a nomad family making their way through the swamp, consisting of four strong, young and mischievous children, all perfect traits to be able to carry out his plan to rise up and rid the world of the oppression that challenged many poor souls. The alert was almost immediate after they had arrived at the swamp, which was a two-day flight. He had immediately left to make his way to the swamp to meet up with the kids, before bringing them back to Dark Peak with him.
He was unsure what he would do with the parents, however. He was thinking he could take them in as slaves. He had a lot of slaves, as the past few days had been great for slave intakes. All children under six were taken in for the special training, which they would be bound to for the rest of their lives. If there were children older than six, they were forced into slave labour like the adults, and depending on how competent or strong they were, they were sometimes outright killed if requirements weren't met.
The Dark Overlord had decided that once a dragon turned six, they became more useful in other areas around Dark Peak, being more competent and developed, even though they are still extremely young. He also believed that they became independent and rebellious at that age, and that they may not obey him as much as those trained to do so at a younger age, as the age of six is when the main ingraining of the world's understanding begins to diminish in a child's brain. It would be easier to ingrain the types of things he would need to into the brain of a child under six years of age. Even with the aid of darkness, it would still be a challenge, even if it'd be made easier; Spyro assumed this was why Aerus fell out of his grip so quickly. The kids would latch onto him at a young age, believing him to be in the right as this would be ingrained into their heads, unlike every other dragon in the Dragon Realms. The children would be loyal to him and him alone, and they would help him execute his goals.
Spyro slowed as he began to hear voices in the distance, cutting through his thoughts. Eventually, he brought himself to a stop, spotting some dragons sitting around a campfire in a clearing just in front of his hiding spot in amongst the shrubs and large mushroom trees. A few metres away from the dragons was a deep, bubbling bog, stretching for several hundred metres. Four children were chasing each other around the clearing, giggling and shouting as they wrestled and ran. They were all young; three of them were four years old and the other was two, the triplets female and the single child male. Two of the girls were ice dragons, like their father, and the other girl and the boy were both earth dragons, like their mother. Three other dragons sat by the two parents by the campfire, and Spyro knew these were the sentient venomfangs that had contacted him about this family. They each wore different masks. The female wore the red mask of fire, the first male wore the green mask of earth, and the other male wore… the brown mask of a null dragon…
Interesting choice. They were coming across as weak by having a 'null' in amongst their ranks, as null dragons were often thought of as unable to defend themselves due to having no element. He hadn't expected them to think of that, those smart creatures. The sentience was really paying off.
The kids screamed cheerfully as they ran about and wrestled in the flat clearing, weaving through several small rocks that were pretty big in their perspective. The earth dragoness squealed as she was chased by one of her sisters, both running in the direction of the deep bog. The mother noticed and let out a sharp yelp, standing to her paws. "Falka! Nora! Get away from there or you'll fall in the bog!" she scolded, causing the two young sisters to screech to a half with short squeals.
"Sorry, Mummy. I was just chasing Falka," the ice dragoness muttered, looking down at her paws, her lips drooping in a frown.
"You can do that, Nora. Just don't do it so close to the bog," the mother said sternly.
The other two siblings walked towards the adults, concerned looks on their faces after seeing their sisters in trouble. "Mummy, what's wrong?" the little boy asked, eyes wide and curious as he tilted his head. "Why are Falka and Nora in trouble?"
"Oh, it's alright, Rast'en. Your sisters were just getting a bit too close to the bog," their mother said.
"Don't get too close. We just want you to be safe, okay? You too, Shei'ka," their father added, making sure that Rast'en and Shei'ka didn't make the same mistake their sisters did.
"Yes, Daddy," Rast'en mumbled, looking down at his muddy green paws. Shei'ka just groaned.
The brown null dragon scoffed. "Come on, guys. Just let the kids play," he said, brown eyes sparkling with faked innocence, a calm smile pulling at his lips.
"But it's not safe," the mother said.
The fire dragoness flashed her teeth in a warm smile. "They'll be perfectly safe, Rey'linn," she said to the mother, her voice soothing and soft. "You've got three extra pairs of eyes watching out for them. Us nomads will look out for other nomads, after all."
Rey'linn smiled back at the fire dragoness, relief shining in her eyes. "Thanks," she muttered.
The earth dragon smiled too. "Yeah, they'll be safe," he said.
Spyro took a deep breath. It was time to come out now. Reaching out in his mind, he established a connection with the three venomfangs and said, I'm here. I'm coming out now.
Welcome, Master, the fire dragoness replied, giving a quick glance in Spyro's direction where the connection was originating from, giving him a brief wink that went unnoticed by the nomad family.
"I agree with your nomad friends," Spyro piped up as he stepped out from his cover, speaking loudly and firmly, his posture tall and powerful. The nomad family began to cower in fear at first sight of him, the children running into their parents' arms as they immediately ordered them to do so. The disguised venomfangs made the effort to look frightened, as if to keep up the disguise for just a little bit longer. "I did grow up here, after all. And I survived," Spyro continued.
"And that's not a good thing! You should have died along with that beast Malefor!" the father scowled, baring his teeth threateningly at the indigo dragon.
Spyro scoffed with a roll of his crimson slitted eyes, unfazed by the pitiful attempt to be threatening. The dragon's shaking was obvious to the plain eye, and fear swallowed up his eyes. "Everybody tells me that nowadays," Spyro spat with a dark chuckle. "That line really doesn't come across as intimidating or hurtful, you know. It's just so… bland and empty."
"Daddy? Is this the bad dragon you were telling us about last night?" Nora asked, her voice trembling with unadulterated fear.
"Bad? Ouch, 'Daddy', why do you say such hurtful things about me?" Spyro mocked with a pout, sticking out his bottom lip, before he began to laugh. Nora gave a whimper at the sound of Spyro's devilish chuckles. "No, I'm not bad, little one. Some… hurtful dragons just seem to think that way. My name is Spyro. I saved the world a couple years ago."
"Mummy said you killed people!" Rast'en wailed, sobbing heavily.
"Well, I won't kill you, my boy. You'll be safe with me, I promise," Spyro said calmly and soothingly. "Safer than you will be with your parents. I mean, they almost let Nora and Falka run into the bog. Didn't they, girls?"
The two little dragonesses wilted at the sound of Spyro speaking their names, and they refused to answer, pressing even further into the protective embraces of their parents. Rey'linn turned to her mate and whispered to him, unadulterated fear edging every word she spoke, "T'aligorn, we need to leave. Now."
"I know, Rey'linn, but how?" the ice dragon whispered. "We're kinda cornered here!"
Rey'linn turned to the fire dragoness sitting next to her. "Would you and your friends be able to distract him while we escape? Please? We need to protect the kids," she pleaded.
The fire dragoness turned her head towards Rey'linn, her expression emotionless, making the motion somewhat eerie. "I agree, the kids need to be kept safe," she said, standing up and walking towards Rey'linn. "But they're not safe with you."
"What do you… ungh!"
The fire dragoness clawed Rey'linn in the face, sending blood dribbling from the deep claw wound as she fell to the ground, letting go of Shei'ka and Rast'en, who she had been holding firmly. Shei'ka and Rast'en ran towards their father T'aligorn, tears streaming down their faces from the sudden violent outburst. Rey'linn cried out in pain, scrambling backwards as the fire dragoness advanced on her. The fire dragoness kicked Rey'linn in the stomach, forcing a pained groan from her throat, before she slammed her fists down on her head twice, knocking Rey'linn out on the second hit.
The children all stood in T'aligorn's grasp, crying in fear. T'aligorn was also weeping, not only in fear for his own life, but for the lives of his children and his mate. His eyes stayed fixed on Rey'linn's body, scared for her wellbeing.
"She's alive, you pitiful, weeping mutt; just unconscious," Spyro growled. "Now, get him away from the kids."
At Spyro's order, the three 'nomads' lifted their facades, revealing their black-and-green venomfang scales, before they began to ascend on T'aligorn and his for children.
"You… you… you liars! You were never there for us!" T'aligorn accused, his voice wobbly as tears streamed down his face, his eyes wet and bloodshot, flicking between each of the venomfangs.
"This life you lead for your kids, a nomad life, where the majority of dragonkind will look down on them, is not safe for them. Whenever you will enter a draconic civilisation, they will be bullied and treated unfairly because they do not have a home," Spyro explained. "Nomads always were looked down upon, and still are; I've seen it as of recently. They'll be safer among other children, where they can belong equally among them. I can take them there."
"You don't know what's best for my children! I'm the father!" T'aligorn shouted. "As for your claims, you're insane! You're delusional!"
"Is he, though?" one of the male venomfangs said as they closed in on T'aligorn and the kids, forcing them backwards. "Spyro is the purple dragon after all. He knows what he's talking about."
"Being the purple dragon doesn't mean sh…!"
T'aligorn stopped as he felt his hind paw descend with a wet splat into the bog as cold mud seeped over his toes. He also suddenly noticed his tail was half-submerged. They were cornering them into the bog.
The three venomfangs continued to close in on them, and T'aligorn was forced to drag himself and his kids further and further into the bog. Soon the four-year-old triplets were submerged halfway up to their necks, and little Rast'en was submerged up to his mouth, causing him to climb up onto one of his sisters, breathing hoarsely and spitting out the foul, muddy water, choking and gagging on the sickening liquid.
"Give the kids over, T'aligorn," Spyro ordered.
"No."
Very well. Kill the fool, Spyro ordered to the venomfangs.
Spyro clicked his talons, and the three venomfangs immediately sprang into action, sending mud spraying everywhere. The female lunged at T'aligorn, grabbing him by the neck and cranium in her forepaws, standing in the bog on her hind legs, and the two male venomfangs fished the kids out of their father's grip, taking two each and placing them back on dry land, holding their muddy forms firmly so they couldn't escape.
T'aligorn was in hysterics. "GIVE THEM BACK!" he howled, tears streaming down his face, eyes hazy and bloodshot. "GIVE THEM BACK, PLEASE!"
The female venomfang chuckled, leaning forward and whispering slowly in his ear. "It's alright, T'aligorn. They will be safe with us. We will keep them alive," she breathed, sending a shiver down his spine with the words she was saying, as well as the way she whispered. She was right up in his ear. He could feel her hot breath against his scales. "You, on the other hand, deserve death, for forcing them into this dangerous, horrible nomadic life with no home, as well as speaking foolishly towards the Dark Overlord."
T'aligorn let out an angry growl, struggling against the she-venomfang savagely. He threw his weight around, and she fought desperately to keep her grip on him. With a growl, the venomfang dug her claws into his flesh and shoved him violently into the mud, holding him under. Large bubbles began forming on the surface of the mud as T'aligorn fought for air, choking and suffocating underneath the surface. He thrashed about violently, managing to throw the venomfang off him, causing her to land with a heavy splat in the mud. He stood, hacking and choking on mud that began dripping down his chin. He turned to the she-venomfang, lips curled in a threatening snarl.
The venomfang was unfazed by the display of anger as she rose from the mud and hissed back at him, before she shot a massive glob of green poison at him. It landed with a splatter on his shoulder, and he let out a pained cry, tears forming in his eyes once more as his voice cracked. While T'aligorn was distracted, staggering dumbly about in the bog, the venomfang leapt at him, knocking him down to the ground and lashing out with her claws at his neck, scoring a massive, nasty cut down the side of it. He spat some more venom directly into the bleeding cuts. T'aligorn let out a scream, kicking out to throw the venomfang off him.
He stood, knees wobbling and lungs heaving for breath, the terrible taste of vomit starting to run up his throat. He watched as the she-venomfang picked herself out of the mud once more, giving him a wicked smile of finality before stepping out of the bog, leaving T'aligorn alone, unable to move as he swayed, nausea overtaking him.
"Daddy! Daddy get out!" Nora shrieked from dry land, tears streaming down her little face. "DADDY!"
T'aligorn looked over to his children before he let out a disgusting, harsh retch as he stumbled backwards, further into the bog. The ground underneath the mud took a heavy dip and he tripped, falling down the ditch as the mud reached his knees. He steadied himself, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down, until his stomach rebelled and he vomited violently into the bog, forceful retches and coughed overtaking him. Strings of saliva, blood and digestive fluids hung from his lips by the time he had finished vomiting. He coughed, before he vomited a second time, the horrid mixture floating about and dispersing inside the mud he was standing in. He reared his head back as he let out a gurgled scream of agony, his jaws widening to expose his throat, which was beginning to deteriorate as the venom spread throughout his body, up his neck and into his oesophagus, before attacking his maw. Black spots dotted the pink flesh in his maw, which was also beginning to sag. His lower lip was beginning to sag, exposing his rotting, bleeding gums. He let out another gurgle, and his throat visibly constricted, pushing blood up out of his oesophagus and into his mouth. He bent over again to vomit, but this time, he vomited up nothing but thick, dark red blood. His face contorted as it visibly began to rot, each feature folding into itself and pushing out a sticky mixture of blood and pus.
With a heavy twitch of his left foreleg, his left forepaw gave way. He landed with a heavy splash into the bog, submerging himself so that his entire snout was underneath the mud. He tried to stand but slumped back down into the mud. Bubbles burst out from the surface of the mud, and muffled groans could be heard. He began to thrash and convulse, throwing mud everywhere as he tried to pick himself up out of it, but he was unsuccessful. Blood seeped from every crevice on his body, turning the dirty, muddy, vomit-filled water a dark red hue. He looked towards his children, pain, longing and grief sparkling in his bloodshot, rotting eyes, before they glazed over, and his head slumped sideways. His now limp paws lost their grip on the ground beneath him, and the bog began to carry him out further into the deep end. His weight carried him under, and before long, T'aligorn was gone, completely submerged under the mud.
After this nasty display, all four children were reduced to tears as they bawled. Spyro rolled his eyes at the pitiful emotions they all released. "It's alright, little ones," he said, trying to swallow his frustration and impatience. "We're going to take you to your new home, where you can finally be equal with the other kids… where you can live properly without being ridiculed for living a nomad life."
"BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE EQUAL!" Shei'ka howled. "I WANT MY DADDY BACK! I WANT MUMMY TO WAKE UP!"
"I DON'T WANT TO GO, PLEEEEEEASE!" Nora screamed, long and loud.
"MUMMY! DADDY!" Falka screamed, repeating each word over and over again.
Rast'en just let out an ear-splitting, wordless screech, unable to speak after what he had just witnessed. He paused to take a hoarse breath which he had to fight valiantly for, before he screamed once more. The two-year-old's throat burned relentlessly, but he didn't care, as he continued to let out his grating howls, staring at where his father had once stood in the bog, his blood and vomit still floating about inside the muddy water.
Spyro groaned, his ears beginning to ring from the mournful howls of the four children. "Take the kids to Dark Peak. And the mother. She can serve as a slave," he ordered the three venomfangs. "I'll follow a little behind, just so I don't have to keep listening to those damned kids scream."
The venomfangs nodded, the males taking two children each, and the female making her way towards Fey'linn's unconscious body. They were about to fly off, until Falka let out a shrill shriek, managing to squirm her way out from the grip of the venomfang holding her. The venomfang snarled in surprise, and Spyro turned to run after Falka. The four-year-old dragoness made it about fifty metres before Spyro caught up, knocking her down violently, causing blood to stream from her nose as her face slammed into the ground. She let out another shrill scream of pain and fear as she rolled quickly, rolling underneath Spyro's paws as he brought them down ready to pin her to the ground, before she then got up nimbly and continued sprinting out into the swamp as fast as she could.
Spyro growled in frustration, turning to the three venomfangs. "She-venomfang, follow me. We've got a hatchling to catch," he ordered quickly. "You other two, take those three and the mother back to Dark Peak."
"How? I can't hold onto three squirming kids, nor can one of us hold a kid as well as the mother!" the venomfang protested.
"WELL FIGURE IT OUT! KNOCK THE KIDS OUT OR SOMETHING TO MAKE IT EASIER! JUST GET THEM TO DARK PEAK!" Spyro roared, before he turned and ran off in pursuit of Falka, not even looking to see if the she-venomfang was behind him.
Falka had made a fair bit of ground over the past few seconds that Spyro had let her run while he barked orders at the venomfangs, but Spyro, being significantly larger and faster than the four-year-old dragoness, caught up quickly. He knocked her to the side with a heavy swing of his massive, strong paw, forcing a heavy grunt out of her as she slammed into a mushroom tree with incredible force. More blood was forced out of her nostrils as it streamed in torrents down her face, followed by her mouth as she bit hard on her lip from the impact she had just undergone. Tears streamed down the frightened child's face. Seeing Spyro and the she-venomfang closing in on her, Falka let out another shriek, scrambling to her paws and attempting to climb up the mushroom tree.
Spyro lashed out to grab her, but she was already too high for him to reach, being the agile little creature she was, and before long she was running across the top of the mushroom cap. He let out a savage growl, cursing Falka for her tiny size, before swinging his tailblade around and slashing through the trunk of the mushroom tree, causing it to topple over. But Falka was already in the air at this point, leaping towards the next one, turning the long line of mushroom caps into a long runway to try and escape from Spyro. The Dark Overlord cut another mushroom tree down, but yet again, Falka was already in mid-air as she leapt towards another one, her agility coming from unadulterated adrenaline and fear. Filled with rage, Spyro released a burning beam of plasma from his maw at the tree afterwards, before turning his head and knocking down the next three trees with the plasma beam. Falka fell down with the mushroom tops, flapping her wings frantically but unable to fly. She flapped about in a way that made it seem like she hadn't been taught how to fly yet as both wings flapped independent of each other, making it impossible to catch air.
Stupid parents. They should have taught her at the age of three. All Warfangian hatchlings learned to fly at the age of three; it was a vital task every dragon needed to learn and accomplish. Falka obviously hasn't been taught yet, and he scowled at her parents' stupidity. They were clearly of no use to their children if they hadn't taught a four-year-old how to fly. Of course, Spyro was twelve when he learned to fly, but he hadn't been raised by dragons. The dragonflies didn't even think he could fly, hence Sparx's shock when Spyro first flew eleven years ago.
Falka fell with a heavy thump on the ground, knocking the wind out of her and breaking a leg with a loud resounding snap. The dragoness let out a shrill scream as pain flared through her severely broken leg, the bone sticking out of the flesh, blood spilling from the wound. She scrambled backwards on her rump as best as she could with her three functional paws, the broken one dangling uselessly on the ground.
The she-venomfang quickly ran up behind Spyro, spitting two small blobs of venom just in front of Falka, trapping her between the venom and the large stump of a fallen mushroom tree that she had just backed herself up against. Spyro walked menacingly towards Falka, whose crying began to get even worse. Between each ragged sob that wracked her fragile green form, she started to plead for mercy, plead for help.
Plead for Mummy and Daddy.
"Oh, Falka," Spyro said with a low, sadistic chuckle, before reaching down to her and picking her up by her nape in between two large, sharp claws, causing her to curl up instinctively as if in a hatchling hold. Her form still shivered inside Spyro's grip, and her sobs were heavy and choking as she now began to cough violently as she wept, taking hoarse, shaky breaths between each choking sob as she fought for air. "I'm sorry, I really am, but we need to get you to Dark Peak now. You will be well looked after, unlike when you were with your good-for-nothing parents. They haven't even taught you how to fly yet. Come with us and help us fight back. Fight back for the children that are oppressed and not looked after, the unloved children and the children with disabilities."
"B-b-b-but I-I-I-I don't w-w-wa-ant too," she croaked in between her grating, choking cries. "I-I-I j… j-j-ju… I j-just want M-M-Mummy! I w-wa-want Daddy!"
"Parents mean nothing if they don't look after you or make sure you're safe. Parents who are like that don't deserve to have children."
"B-b-but M-Mummy s… s… M-M-Mummy said not to r-r-run around the b-b-bog. Sh-she was making sure I-I-I w-w-was safe."
"Oh, stop arguing with me, you little brat. You are coming with me. Now."
"NO!" Falka snapped, her face contorting with anger despite her trembling bottom lip and the relentless streams of salty tears that flowed down her small green cheeks. "I-I-I… I won't go w-w-with you! Y-y-you are a mean dragon! You took D-D-Daddy from me, a-a-a-and you're going to t-t-take Mummy, too! I ha-a-a-ate you!"
Spyro roared in unadulterated anger, unable to help his rage-filled actions as he threw Falka to the side, causing a loud crack to fill the air as she landed on the ground. She let out an ear-splitting howl as she lay on her back, which was clearly broken due to the way her body arched and twisted, her three good legs pointing up into the air and twitching spasmodically. Her broken leg hung by her side, twisted and bloodied, yet still twitching much like her other legs.
There was a startled, frightened shout from behind Spyro as the crack from Falka sounded, and he turned around to see Sparx, Nina and Flash hovering between two mushroom trees, looks of fear and absolute disbelief etched on their faces. Nina had a hand raised over her mouth, eyes already teary. Flash held her firmly, teeth clenched as he was trying to hide his own emotion. Sparx hovered beside them, tears also in his eyes, arms hanging down his side and mouth hanging open in absolute shock.
Spyro hesitated upon seeing them, and his anger fell for just a tiny moment. There was an uncomfortable silence between them. The only sounds that could be heard were the howls of agony that tore from Falka's maw. Even the she-venomfang that had accompanied Spyro wore an uncomfortable, awkward expression. "I, uh… I might take the kid back to Dark Peak now, Master," she suggested, turning to walk towards the broken earth dragoness.
Spyro just let out a snarl, stopping the she-venomfang in her tracks as, without even looking at Falka, he slammed his tailblade down on her neck, silencing her with a sickening snap and squelching of thick blood. Nina let out a shriek, and Sparx and Flash let out alarmed shouts. "Don't bother," Spyro growled, his burning rage returning to him in heavy, crushing waves. With a dark snarl, he twisted his tailblade around inside Falka's bloody throat in an attempt to wedge it free, before he yanked it out with another spray of dark blood. Nina almost threw up at the sickening display. "The damned kid was no use to us with a broken back anyway; she would've been paralysed for life. Go back and meet with the others. I need to deal with this nuisance of a situation now, and I do not need you here to make matters worse."
"Yes, Master," the venomfang replied, before taking off in the direction of Dark Peak, leaving Spyro alone with his foster family.
Spyro hadn't taken his eyes off the dragonfly family this whole time, all three of them quaking in fear under his rageful crimson gaze. Their own gazes constantly flicked between his blazing red eyes, his blood-streaked tailblade, and the gory corpse of the little four-year-old youngling. After a few moments of awkward, fearful silence, Sparx flew forward cautiously, breathing heavily. "Spyro? P-p-please say that it's not y-y-you," he stammered, tears building up in his eyes, his voice breaking as he spoke.
"You wish it wasn't me, brother," Spyro spat harshly.
Sparx recoiled at the words, before he shrunk in on himself, wrapping his arms around himself as the tears finally made their way out of his eyes. He found he could not look away from the large dragon however, fear keeping his gaze fixed on him. Nina was already crying into Flash's shoulder, who held and caressed her gently, softly shushing her as she wept. Flash was starting to show signs of crying too as his eyes began to fill up with tears. Spyro just scoffed at the dragonflies' pitiful emotions.
Sparx brought in a shaky breath as he spoke, his voice hoarse as he constantly tried to swallow the thick, suffocating lump in his throat after each sentence. "We heard the screaming from home and decided to come and have a look, out of curiosity and to make sure everything was alright. We never expected to see you, and at first all we saw were purple scales. I… I was… ecstatic… to see you again. So were Mum and Dad. But then you… you… We saw you…" Sparx murmured as he wept, looking at the body of Falka a few metres away from Spyro, head separated from her body in a dark red mess of blood and entrails, reddened maw open in a silent howl and empty jade eyes staring blankly up at the sky. He blinked, tearing his gaze away from the horrid sight, looking back to Spyro, forcing more tears out of his eyes. "What happened? This isn't you! Beating up and killing children?! This is against all you fought for back in the Dark War! What happened to you?! Where did the old Spyro go?!"
Spyro scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The old Spyro is gone. It's been seven years since we parted ways, and I've changed since then. I've learned so much that the change has been massive. In fact, because of how big the change has been, the old Spyro is more than gone. He's dead," Spyro replied.
"What happened to you, Spyro?" Sparx pleaded once again, wanting an answer. "Please tell me! I need to know that Spyro is still there! I need to know if the dragon I came to know and love with all my heart is still inside you! I need to know if my brother still exists!"
"I am not you brother, Sparx! I never was!" Spyro snapped, causing Sparx to recoil backwards from the force of the retort and the snapping jaws and gleaming yellow fangs that hovered in front of him, almost jeering at him to get closer and become mincemeat. "To think a dragonfly could ever have a dragon as a brother! To think a dragonfly could ever try to attempt to parent a dragon!" He aimed this last phrase at Flash and Nina, turning his demonic glance to them as he said this.
"Son, what has gotten into you?" Flash asked as he continued stroking his whimpering, terrified mate, trying to calm her down.
"I'm not your son, Flash," Spyro growled. "You were a fool to think I would remain your son. That I could remain your son. I've learned so much since I left you, and I know what you are now. Frauds. Ape-hearted cowards! Tiny little creatures who thought they could become famous and large among their own kind for raising the purple dragon of legend! Mindless little morons who wanted the satisfaction of controlling and disciplining him!"
"Spyro, what in the spirits' names are you even talking about?!" Flash exclaimed.
"Oh, don't act dumb on me! You never adopted me because you cared for me! You just wanted to be popular among the dragonflies for raising the purple dragon of legend. You wanted to be better than all the other dragonflies here in the swamp. You wanted to be better than me! You only wanted a high status for raising the purple dragon, and to have the satisfaction of being able to manipulate and control him! You think nothing of me! Only that I'm lower than you! Especially you, Sparx!"
"What?! Wh-wh-what does he mean, S-S-Sp-Sparx?!" Nina demanded through her wracking sobs.
"Spyro, Mum and Dad don't know the prophecies and legends of the dragons, so stop trying to make stuff up to fit your sick, twisted beliefs!" Sparx shouted. "The only reason I know of the prophecies and legends is because you and I spent so much time among the guardians during the war, and even in the year afterwards that I had spent with you in Warfang! But before that, we didn't even know you were a dragon of legend! I didn't know! You didn't even know you were a dragon, PERIOD!
"And all those times I called myself your better, called myself the god of the atlawa… they were all jokes! You know how I am! That's just me! I like to joke about things! I never meant for those jokes to come off like this, and I'm so sorry if what I said did hurt you, but what you are doing now is no way to go about it!"
"Oh, Sparx. Trying to lie your way out of trouble again. It won't work this time, Sparx," Spyro replied with an evil smirk. "I… see… through… you. I know what you are, and there's nothing you can say or do that will change how I see you. You're all a family of liars! It's no surprised that you kept my identity hidden from me until you were forced to tell me who I was because I breathed fire! But I've had enough of the lies now! You were never my family!"
"Spyro, we did care for you!" Nina protested, her voice quivering. "We didn't tell you that you were a dragon because we wanted you to be safe! We knew how dangerous the outside world was, and we didn't want you to become endangered by it! We loved you! You were our son! We wanted you around! I wanted you around! I was proud to be your mother, not for status like you're accusing us of, but because of the lovely, respectful little boy I got to raise and love as my own!"
"You were never my mother, Nina!" Spyro roared, face contorting with anger. "Just a fraud who thought she could raise a dragon as a dragonfly! Heh, how that backfired on you!"
Nina shrunk into Flash's arms once more. She had never seen a grown dragon angry. Hell, she had never seen a dragon angry, period. Spyro had never been an angry child and had aspired to treat everyone with the most respect a child could give to them. He had loved Flash and Nina intently, as if they were his real parents, and he even loved Sparx just as much, even though he had to put up with all of Sparx's 'fat' remarks and other perks. Seeing a dragon angry for the first time would be incredibly scary for a creature as small as a dragonfly. Even a child could be quite scary when they were angry, which Spyro knew could be quite intense after seeing some kids go off back in Warfang. Hell, a youngling could fit at least a dragonfly's whole arm inside their mouth, which would allow them to devour a dragonfly in maybe five bites. A fully-grown dragon was something entirely different, and anger from any grown dragon was something for anyone to be afraid of, dragon or not. So for a dragonfly, Spyro could only imagine how terrified Nina was.
Spyro let out a low chuckle before he lashed out and smacked Flash forcefully in the back, causing him to drop Nina as he was thrown forwards from the force of the slap. Spyro caught Flash in his forepaw before the momentum would carry him too far away, and a devilish grin pulled at his lips.
"Don't hurt me Spyro, please! Please, I beg of you! If you don't want us to be your family, then fine, but please just don't hurt us, and stop this nonsense!" Flash pleaded as he struggled in Spyro's grip, his eyes glued onto Spyro. More specifically, his eyes were glued onto Spyro's massive jaws that were now looming in front of him.
"You foolish gnat," Spyro growled. "I am doing what I have to do, and if you can't accept it, then you'll just have to suffer, just like the rest of your family will."
Spyro let out a devilish cackle, his maw hanging open, the massive saliva-dripping fangs looming over Flash. Spyro suddenly threw the blue dragonfly into his maw, forcing a scream of terror out of Flash's lungs. He closed his jaws tightly on Flash, causing a heavy crunch to fill the air, followed by a spray of watery-green blood that burst from the dragonfly's body. The gore spilled down the Dark Overlord's bottom lip, before he threw his head back and swallowed the corpse whole.
Nina was howling, lying on the ground curled up in a ball as she had no energy left to keep herself flying in the air. Sparx wavered in mid-air, horrified at the death of his father. Spyro had never seen Sparx cry so hard. Truth be told, he'd never seen Sparx cry at all, having never showed a lot of emotion as a child. Seeing him crying earlier on had been a little bit of a surprise, but now every single emotional wall had been torn down, leaving Sparx a weeping mess.
Spyro chuckled again, running his wet tongue along his bottom lip to scoop up the dragonfly guts that had spilled out of his mouth. He let out a low, gurgling growl of content as he relished the taste of blood, before he tipped his head back and swallowed the remaining gore.
The malevolent purple dragon gave a low chuckle as he looked at Sparx, who shivered with terror. "Oh, are you scared of me now?" he chastised with a laugh. "I'm sorry, I thought you were 'family'. I thought you said you 'cared about me'. Being afraid of each other isn't an option in a family, or at least I don't think so. But, I guess that's what happens when you try to play with something that you can't control and think yourself better than fate itself, thinking you can control it. Dragonflies raising a dragon? Ridiculous."
"Spyro… what are you?!" Sparx whimpered. Spyro's smirk of satisfaction widened, exposing his big, gore-streaked fangs. "This isn't the brother I remember. What happened to you?"
"I learned things, Sparx. I learned more than you could ever imagine! I learned how little our kind really cares for each other! They reprimand each other because of disabilities, dysfunctions, mental issues, and race. At first I thought it was just a dragon thing, but now? Now I see it's more than that. Other species do it too! The dragonflies do it! What species will discriminate others next? Cheetahs? Moles? Atlawa? The world is filled with people who don't give a damn, and I must save the world by bringing about equality and eliminating those that think themselves higher than another!"
"Destruction?! This is not you, Spyro!" Sparx yelled.
Spyro's eyes widened at hearing the golden dragonfly shout. Sparx used to get angry, sure, but he went about it in a more subtle tone, either grumbling or mumbling rude remarks before giving the silent treatment. He hardly ever yelled in anger.
Nina's howls from below as she lay on the ground seemed to get harsher as she heard Sparx shout. Her two sons were fighting. Not play-fighting, but truly fighting. And not only was she absolutely petrified of Spyro, she was now afraid for Sparx too; he was treading on some very dangerous ground here.
He could die just like Flash.
"You've been away from me for seven years, Sparx! I've changed! Maybe this is me!" Spyro replied.
"No! I refuse to believe that! What are you, Spyro?! This is not the dragon I remembered!" Sparx screamed. "Killing fathers?! Mates?! Killing kids?! Eating people?! You would never have even dreamed of doing those things as a kid, or when you first started fighting in the war, but now look at you! WHAT ARE YOU?!"
"I'm surprised you don't know, Sparx. You of all dragonflies should be able to know, especially since you were right with me the whole time I fought in that damned war!"
"Spyro, stop being scary! Just stop it!" Sparx screamed, tears streaming down his face as he choked on them. "I don't know! I feel like I don't know anything about you anymore! I knew you so well, but now I don't! Who the hell even are you?!"
"Will this help you?" he chuckled darkly, before he knocked Sparx out of the air and slammed his heavy paw down on top of him, pinning the dragonfly to the ground as he shrieked in fear, staring up into Spyro's hideous red eyes. Nina screamed in fear as well, believing Sparx was going to die as well. Spyro's eyes weren't red for much longer as they suddenly glowed a bright white, a shroud of dark energy enveloping his body, turning it black. Spyro roared long and loud, showing off his wet, bright pink throat and colossal yellow, gore-streaked fangs. Sparx howled in fear, tears streaming down his face as flecks of sticky saliva flew from Spyro's bulging wet throat and onto his face. The little dragonfly started squirming underneath Spyro's claws and slavering jaws in a desperate attempt to escape, unable to hear his mother's despairing, fearful screams and pleas over his own screaming and Spyro's deafening roar, which was causing his ears to ring profusely.
The Dark Overlord shut his maw and withdrew the darkness around him, his scales fading back to their usual dark indigo colour and the white glow in his eyes faded, revealing the blood-red reptilian orbs underneath. Sparx lay whimpering in Spyro's grasp as he finally realised what had happened. He remembered that dark, shadowy form he had turned into. How could he forget? Dark Spyro had haunted his nightmares as he hibernated in the Time Crystal, as well as most nights after they were released from it. He couldn't forget the pain of watching his foster brother turn into a dark, bloodthirsty creature inside the Well of Souls. That power had finally taken a hold of him, and the real Spyro was gone.
No, not gone. Dead. Spyro was dead.
Sparx wept in Spyro's grasp, giving up the fight against trying to be strong, against believing that Spyro had become a savage beast. "I loved you, Spyro! I loved you!" Sparx sobbed, his voice hoarse and breaking pitifully as he choked on his tears. He gave a wet, forceful sniffle as he tried to clear his sinuses, but the relentless stream of tears wouldn't let him. "I-I-I never said it and never showed it, but I loved you, Spyro! You were the only brother I had! You were the only dragon I had! Deep down, all that time, I knew y-y-you weren't like me, b-b-but I loved you nonetheless! N-n-not so I-I-I-I could tease you, but just because I had s-s-someone to play games i-i-in the swamp with! Someone who I-I-I c-could call on if I was afraid or worried! I-I-I know now I should have said I loved you a-a-and… and… and m-m-maybe that might have s-s-st-sto-opped th-this, b-b-but now it's t-t-too l-la-late, and I-I'm sorry!"
"Enough with the waterworks, Sparx. You look disgusting." Spyro scoffed, turning his head away and faking a gag, before looking back down at the golden dragonfly and teasing him. "I'm not even sure you'll please my appetite; you'll just make me sick."
"Y-y-y-you're ma-m-mad! You're j-j-just l-li-like him!"
"Like Malefor? Eh, I guess you could say that. Cynder's likened me to my predecessor, so you could say I am like him. But unlike Malefor, I have motives to save the world for good. I only have the power of darkness to aid me; I can't achieve my goals of bringing equality without going down this path."
"H-h-h-how c-can you say you h-h-have m-m-mo-motives for g-good when you've j-j-just k-killed two people in f-f-fr-front of my eyes?! Not only my father, but a child! Y-Y-YOU'RE S-S-S-SICK! DO THE GUARDIANS KNOW YOU'RE D-D-DOING THIS?!"
"Of course they do. I killed them too," Spyro chuckled.
Sparx was speechless. He had lost all hope in Spyro now. He heard his mother screaming in desperation a few metres away, still lying on the ground where she had been dropped. "WHY?!" Sparx screamed. "Th-th-they w-were your… your… your c-c-closest a-a-allies and fr-fr-friends! They taught you wh-wh-what it meant to be a d-d-d-dr-dra-agon! WHY W-W-WOULD YOU KILL THEM, AFTER ALL THAT THEY DID FOR YOU?!"
"What they did was they forced me to fight a war they couldn't. A mere child! They were never my friends! Allies, maybe, but only ever during the Dark War! Even I was a victim of being called a minority, so I know damn well that it needs to be fixed! The guardians thought themselves better than me! In their eyes, they were too precious and important to be killed and sacrificed in war! What better idea than to sacrifice a child and destroy his innocence?! Sure, that child was the purple dragon of legend, but he was still just a child! Nobody gave a damn about me, because I was just a hard-labour worker to them!"
Sparx inhaled hoarsely and began howling loudly, his stammering ceasing as he howled each sentence in one breath. "WHERE'S THE DRAGON I KNEW AND LOVED?! THE DRAGON WHO WAS SELFLESS AND WOULD PUT THE NEEDS OF OTHERS ABOVE HIS OWN?! THE DRAGON WHO WOULD PUT UP WITH MY CONSTANT NAGGING AND TEASING… BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO START A FIGHT… AND BECAUSE HE KNEW THAT WAS JUST HOW I ACTED?! WHERE IS THAT DRAGON?!"
"THAT DRAGON IS DEAD, SPARX! IF YOU KEEP AT THIS, YOU'LL BE DEAD WITH HIM TOO!" Spyro roared, before Sparx gave up all hope, lying his head down and wailing at the top of his lungs, eyes flooding as tears spilled down his face, clogging up his sinuses even more that he now struggled to breathe, choking and coughing violently in amongst his violent sobs and wails.
With a scoff, Spyro stepped of Sparx, who now curled in on himself, remaining on the ground, wings wrapped over his body. The Dark Overlord then turned and looked at Nina, curled in a foetal position like Sparx a few metres away. He chuckled at the pitiful sight of the two weeping, traumatised dragonflies, before turning and looking towards the corpse of Falka that lay a few more metres away. He walked towards her head, giving it a savage kick, sending it rolling along the swamp floor, leaving a trail of blood as it rolled along the lining of what was once the neck. He then walked over to the headless body, licking the stump of her neck once, revelling in the taste of blood, which was a lot more potent and enjoyable compared to dragonfly gore. He then spread his wings and took off towards Dark Peak, leaving the petrified, wailing, broken family of two behind.
Pah, who cares about family? He didn't need them. They weren't his family anyway. He didn't need his biological family either, whoever they were.
As he flew towards Dark Peak, he began to think of his next step going forwards to achieving his goal.
Back down on the ground, Nina and Sparx had wriggled along the ground towards each other before they embraced, weeping into each other's chests as they remembered what had just happened and mourned over all that could have been. They had both believed that their reunion with Spyro would be loving and happy and a time to rejoice, but this moment had just proved the opposite. And now Flash was dead, taken by the literal jaws of death, swallowed up by the wet, inky, dark abyss that was the Dark Overlord's gullet.
Spyro was dead too, taken by his own inner demons.
Everything had been taken from them. What did they have to live for?
Welp, were you expecting this?
This chapter's been sitting around for a bit so I figured I'd post it. Honestly expected a lot more reviews on the last chapter given that it was Muras' whole backstory, but oh well. I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter though, and also this one.
Anyway though, I'll see you later with the next chapter! Please consider leaving a review because it means a lot and is really helpful.