Chapter 2: A Helping Hand
Noise. Chaos. Everything was a throng of frantic activity, voices clashing in a never ending din. The scent that filled the air was an all too familiar mixture of blood and fear. Hysterical voices blended together with moans and cries of pain, while the too-few voices of healers and emergency workers fought to be heard above it all.
"Keep the pressure on that. Do we have any more bandages?"
"She's fallen unconscious! Must be from the shock."
"Please, let me up! My mate is still missing! I need to—AAGH!"
"We need more water to clean these wounds!"
"Mama! Mama, it hurts!"
"You're going to be fine, alright? Keep looking right here. This will hurt, but it will be over quickly. Just keep looking at me."
"Where's the pulse? I've lost his pulse!"
"Is that fire going yet? Guard, give me your sword. We need to cauterize this wound before she loses any more blood."
In the centre of it all a crowd was huddled around a single sheet of cloth laid on top of the dusty ground. Between the busily working healers and the anxious observers, occasional flashes of blood-soaked purple scales could be seen.
"Still no effect from the red gems? Try breaking one."
"No, nothing. I have another puncture that just opened up on his side, too."
"This cut is still getting deeper too. I need another bandage!"
"Here! That's our last one, though."
"Damn. We have to slow this bleeding down. Are those herbs ready yet?"
"Not yet. Almost."
"Well hurry! Master Spyro, can you still hear me? You need to be strong for us. Just keep fighting for a little while longer and we'll get you through this. Can you do that for me? Master Spyro? No, no, don't close your eyes just yet! Rest later. Right now I just need you to keep your eyes on me and we'll fight through this together. Focus right here, got it? Good. That's it! We're almost done. Just fight for a little bit longer..."
"Miss Cynder?"
The unexpected call intruded into the black dragoness's far-off thoughts, and a jolt of surprise shot through her body. Her gaze snapped around to face the mole that was walking just to her left, small black eyes peering back up at her with a mixed expression of inquisitiveness and concern. Realizing that she had been letting her mind wander, Cynder shook her head and pulled a forepaw across her weary eyes.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to lose focus."
"Is everything alright?" the mole asked her. "You look anxious."
Cynder gave the mole another surprised glance before her eyes turned distant once more. The image of purple scales and blood flashed in her mind again, and she winced almost imperceptibly.
"I'm fine," she said at length. "Just...worried about Spyro."
The mole hummed in understanding. "Of course. Well, I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's a strong dragon. The last I heard, his condition is still improving."
Cynder nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah, one of the healers treating him said that red gems were finally starting to take effect last night. It was barely anything, but it's progress."
"That is good news!" the mole replied with a smile. "So the Reversal wasn't a severe one after all. That's certainly a relief."
Another nod was Cynder's response, sharing the mole's smile for a brief moment, but when she turned her eyes forward once more her features became pensive. 'Severe' certainly seemed like an apt way to describe the injuries that had spontaneously erupted all over his body—if not for the rapid response of the healers, he might have bled out in minutes—but as far as long-term effects went she knew it could have been much worse.
Her mind travelled back to the Infirmary waiting room after the grublin attack on Warfang, where she'd heard how grim the outcome of a Reversed Recovery could be. If red gems were working on Spyro now, she could at least take some solace in it as a sign that he wouldn't be stricken by some of the more crippling side-effects of the condition.
But what caused a Reversal in the first place? she wondered for the hundredth time since hearing the diagnosis. He wasn't using any spirit gems at the time, so why...?
She sighed and shook her head, knowing it was pointless to wonder over the same questions over and over. Instead she focused her attention on her surroundings.
Currently she was accompanying a small group of workers that was making rounds through the chaotic city streets. Mole crews had only just finished removing the dark gems from this area late during the previous night, and now dragons were free to move about in this portion of the city once more. Recovery and reconstruction work would accelerate significantly now that the dragons were able to bring their magical gifts to bear, and Cynder's party was one such group intent on doing just that.
With her was the mole that had spoken just now, a healer, along with two other dragon volunteers, one earth and one fire. All three had satchels slung over their shoulders, full to the brim with emergency supplies. Their names were Oswald, Boulder and Char respectively. As they walked Boulder had an expression of intense concentration on his face, forepaws emitting a faint green glow into the cobblestone street with every step.
"Hold on," he suddenly spoke up in a deep, gravelly voice, his march coming to an instant halt. "I might have something..."
Cynder and the others drew to a stop beside him, all eyes turning toward the green dragon expectantly. They made certain not to move a single muscle, hoping to avoid confusing his senses with extra vibrations in the ground. As the seconds ticked past Cynder felt a sense of anxious anticipation swelling in her chest.
"Over there," Boulder declared a short moment later, pointing his snout toward a crumbled house on the right side of the street. "I feel a gap in the rubble. Something's buried inside."
"Something? Or someone?" Oswald asked.
"It's hard to tell. I don't feel any movement. From the size...it could be a dragon."
"I'll take a look," Cynder said immediately. Without waiting for confirmation she spun around and melted into the shadows.
She carefully moved toward the remains of the house, observing it from within the void and taking note of its condition. The building was in total ruins, not a single wall left standing, and as she approached she hardened her focus on her power. If she lost concentration for a mere second and part of her body re-solidified, it might disturb the rubble and bring it crashing down on top of herself, or worse on whoever could be trapped inside. Maintaining her shadow form was completely second-nature after all her years of practice, but the added pressure here meant she couldn't take any chances.
With great care she pushed on, creeping into the ruins and silently dreading what she might find within.
It took her a minute of searching before she found the opening the earth dragon had spoken of. The stone was replaced by a different form, and a mere second of scrutiny allowed Cynder to make out the shape of an adult dragon completely encircled by the debris.
A jolt of urgency raced through her body, and Cynder moved closer. There were virtually no open spaces between the dragon and the surrounding stone, leaving the victim no room to move even if they wanted to. That actually might have been a blessing in disguise, however, because as Cynder examined the debris her heart fell with the realization that this mess of crumbled stone offered no structural support whatsoever. Any shift in the debris at all—even the slightest increase in weight on one of the pieces—could cause the full weight of the collapsed building to come down on the dragon trapped within.
Forced to stay completely enshrouded within the shadows, Cynder turned her attention to examining the victim. The darkness obscured her senses, though, making it impossible to discern any identifying features or even tell what gender this dragon was, but she could at least see that they were lying on their stomach with their body twisted awkwardly by the surrounding rubble. Of greatest concern was the large slab of rock that was pinning the dragon down from above. It must have been part of the room's ceiling, and if that had come down with any force it could have led to severe injuries. Cynder cringed at the thought.
Was the dragon breathing? She couldn't hear anything, and with her senses dulled by the shadows she couldn't spot any signs of movement. The thought of poking her head out for a better examination was dismissed immediately. If her intrusion caused the debris to shift at all...
She couldn't take the risk. Cursing inwardly, she retreated back toward the street.
Please be alive. Just hang on...
Three pairs of expectant eyes greeted her when she emerged from the darkness. Immediately her own gaze locked onto the earth dragon.
"There is a dragon inside," she said to confirm his suspicion, "but I couldn't get a good look. The debris in there is so unstable, if I move around at all outside of the shadows I'm afraid it will crush them. Is there anything you can do?"
Boulder's features twisted into a frown.
"I can't move any of it. The shifting weight would definitely crush whoever's inside if it's that bad. Maybe..."
His words trailed off, and a low, frustrated growl rumbled from his throat as he wracked his brain for a solution. A minute later he looked up with a spark of inspiration in his eyes, however.
"I can bind the pieces of stone to each other without moving anything. It would basically turn the whole thing into a prison, but it would keep things from collapsing while you investigated at least."
"You're sure it would be stable?" Cynder asked.
Boulder nodded.
"That sounds like a good start to me," Oswald said. "Miss Cynder, do you agree?"
"It's better than nothing," she replied. "Just tell me when to go back in."
Boulder's expression tensed up in focus again. The green aura spread from his forepaws like before, and a second later a similar glow seeped out from within the broken house. Cynder could just barely make out a faint rumble as the pieces of stone were delicately remolded, welding themselves to the adjacent fragments until the loose mound of rubble had become an unmovable cocoon.
"Okay, that should hold," the earth dragon reported after another second.
There was no need for further prompting than that. With hardly a sound Cynder phased back into the shadows and retraced her path into the ruined home. Boulder had been wise enough not to seal the stones together completely, leaving plenty of gaps for Cynder to easily move through, and within seconds she was back with the buried dragon. There she hesitated for a second, glancing around at the rubble that now surrounded her on all sides.
Here goes, she thought, steadying her nerves. Please don't collapse...
Slowly and with tremendous care, she peeked the top of her head out of the shadows as though it were the surface of a pond. She held her breath, waiting to hear the sound of shifting stone, but it never came. What she did hear instead, however, was a soft groan from the dragon in front of her. Most likely the glow from the earth dragon's magic had roused their attention, and now they were showing signs of life.
"H...Hello?" the dragon coughed, and from their voice Cynder could identify them as female. "Is...s-someone th...there? H...Help."
The dragoness coughed again, and worry quickly pooled in Cynder's gut. She sounded very weak, her voice hoarse and ragged. After spending days trapped in here it was no wonder why, but that thought only spurred on Cynder's sense of urgency. This dragoness needed help, now. Without delay Cynder pushed more of her head out of the shadows, as far as she could manage in the cramped space to bring her mouth free.
"It's alright," she said as softly as she could manage. "I'm here to help you."
Despite Cynder's efforts, the dragoness still jolted in fright at the sudden voice from so close by. Her body immediately stiffened, a hiss of pain rushing out. She must be injured, and the movement had aggravated it. Cynder's jaw clenched from further concern.
"W-Who's th-there?"
"Please, stay calm," Cynder spoke as gently as she could. "Everything's going to be alright. We're going to get you out of here."
The dragoness didn't reply, and from the looks of it she was caught in a state of shock at this sudden development. Cynder took this moment to examine her more closely. There was barely any light that managed to pierce this far into the rubble, but it was still barely enough for Cynder to make out what looked like a cool blue shade to the dragoness's scales, marking her as an ice user. It was difficult to judge her condition in this gloom, especially with the stone debris obscuring everything but her face, forelegs and shoulders from view. Cynder did detect a faint scent beneath all the dust, and after a moment she realized it was blood. Thankfully it didn't smell like there was much of it, but it would still be best not to waste time.
"Who...who are y-you?" the dragoness managed to ask.
"My name is Cynder."
Despite the darkness, Cynder still saw the way the other dragoness's eyes widened, her body once more going stiff.
"C...Cynder?" she stammered, her voice falling to a near whisper. "Y...y-you mean..."
The black dragoness hesitated again. There was something about the victim's tone that felt off. It wasn't just surprise that was in her voice. Cynder's fear element hummed in the back of her mind, and with a slight start she realized that the other dragoness was scared.
Oh, she realized, briefly crestfallen. Something in the past...
She shook the feeling off. Now wasn't the time for that familiar guilt.
"I'm here to help you," she said again, trying her best to sound soothing. "I promise, we'll get you out safely. First, can you tell me if you're hurt?"
The ice dragoness remained quiet, the only sound being her short, frightened breaths.
"Please, I need you to talk to me," Cynder implored. "I want to help, but I can't do anything until I know if it's safe to move you."
The other dragoness' mouth opened and closed. It took a couple of tries before she managed to get anything out, and even when she did her words were still faltering and unsteady.
"...I-I...My..."
"It's okay. You're going to be alright. Just breathe slowly, and try to keep calm. Just talk to me."
"M-my...My s-son..."
Cynder froze, caught unprepared for that word. Her son?
"What about your son?" she asked anxiously. "Is he here? Was he in the house with you?"
"Under...under my w-wing," the dragoness forced out, her voice becoming hoarse again. Her breathing was becoming faster and more erratic. "H-he...He s-stopped answering my c-calls. I d-don't know if he's okay. Please...my s...son..."
"Okay," Cynder nodded quickly. "I'll check on him. Please, just try to stay calm. I'll get you both out. I need you to hold still, alright?"
The dragoness gulped back another shaking breath and nodded her head, a low whimper being the only sound she uttered. Cynder's heart twisted, and without wasting a moment she melted back into the shadows and picked her way through the debris to the ice dragoness' side. Her right wing was pinned tight against her flank, leaving no room for anyone underneath, so Cynder shifted over to check her other side. Here the ice breather's wing was tented out slightly, forming a small sheltered space below it. Cynder moved closer, peeking her head out again.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was a hatchling, not even third Cynder's own size. He was curled up tightly in a ball, his tiny wings tucked in and his head pressed into his mother's scaly side. Past the dust that had settled over his scales Cynder could just barely make out his yellow colouring.
He wasn't moving.
Oh, Ancestors, please don't say we're too late...
"A-are you th-there?" the mother called out, her voice barely audible through the rubble, but Cynder could still easily hear the increasing franticness in it. "Is h-he alr-right?"
"Please, just stay calm," Cynder called back, grimacing as she fought to hide her own fears. "I'm going to take him outside to our healer. Just hold on. I'll be right back."
She heard another whimper as the dragoness' only reply, and from this close Cynder could see her side beginning to shudder. The black dragoness clenched her teeth, her gut churning sympathetically, but she forced those sensations down to focus on her task.
Moving with painstaking care, Cynder reached her paw out of the shadows and rested it on the hatchling's flank. He didn't stir. Cynder's stomach turned again, but she refused to waver. Focusing her power, she wrapped her shadows around the younger dragon and drew him into the darkness with her, straining with all her might to keep the shadows' grip as gentle as she could manage. As soon as the hatchling was fully engulfed in the darkness with her she rushed back through the ruins and out into the street. When she emerged the child came with her, flopping limply onto his side. The mole healer and the other two dragons jumped.
"A hatchling?" Char gasped.
"Move aside," Oswald instructed, already kneeling down in front of the young one.
Cynder complied without a word, stepping back and watching the mole with ever-increasing anxiety. The healer gently turned the young dragon over to expose his chest and rested a small furry hand on top of it, leaning his ear down toward the child's mouth and nostrils at the same time. For a few tense seconds he was still, his face grim, but a moment later his features relaxed and he let out a deep sigh.
"He's alive."
Cynder released the breath she'd been holding, silently thanking the Ancestors.
"Will he be alright?" Boulder asked, leaning his head over to peer down at the hatchling.
"It's hard to tell without further examination, but I think so. His breathing and pulse seem steady. I'll know better in a moment."
"The mother is still trapped inside," Cynder interjected. "She's conscious, but I think she might be injured. I couldn't figure out how badly."
Oswald met her gaze, letting out a thoughtful hum. "Bring her out if you can. If her condition is too severe we'll have to try to move this rock to unbury her instead."
"If it comes to that we'll need to send for more earth dragons to help," Boulder said grimly. "Even with the rocks fused together it will be difficult to move them off of her without their weight coming down on her in the process."
Oswald hummed again, his frown deepening. Looking up at Cynder again, he said, "Do what you can."
Cynder nodded, and with that she entered the remains of the house for the third time. As soon as the ice dragoness heard the faint whisper of Cynder's head emerging from the shadows their gazes locked.
"How is he?" she demanded, her voice weak but her tone desperate. "Is h-he alright?"
"The healer is checking on him now," Cynder replied. "He thinks your son will be okay."
The dragoness choked back a weak sob, her whole body trembling, and Cynder felt her heart twist in her chest again. She couldn't even imagine the flood of emotions that this mother must be feeling in that moment.
"I can bring you to him, but first I need to know if you have any serious injuries. Is anything broken, or is there any pain internally?"
It took a second for the dragoness to reply, gasping and trying to get her breathing back under control. "I-I...I'm n-not sure. My b...back hurts the m-most."
"How bad is it?" Cynder pressed. "Can you describe it at all?"
"I...I d-don't know! I-I..."
"Hey, okay," Cynder cut in, trying again to sound reassuring. "It's alright. Listen to me. Everything's going to be fine. I just need to know if you think it will hurt too much if I move you. If you can tell me that, I'll get you out of here before you know it."
"I..." the dragoness gasped. "I...I think I can m...manage it."
Cynder nodded, giving a small smile—though she knew the other dragoness probably couldn't see it. "Okay. Then what I need you to do is hold as still as you can and keep your eyes closed, alright? The sun is pretty bright out, so it might hurt them at first."
"O-okay."
The ice dragoness did as she was told, her eyes shutting and her body going still except for her rattling breaths. Just like with the hatchling, Cynder shifted closer and rested her forepaws against the adult's scales, willing the shadows to bend around her form. It took longer, requiring exponentially more focus to transport someone who was multiple times Cynder's own size, but finally she had drawn the ice user fully into the void. With as much haste as she could manage without losing concentration, Cynder returned to the outside world.
The ice dragoness gave a lurching gasp when they emerged into the open air, sounding pained, and Cynder flinched. She'd been practicing the technique of carrying others into her shadows ever since she first used it on Spyro—mostly on training dummies, and occasionally with Enigma—but she knew she still had a ways to go before she had it mastered. The strain of it must not have been pleasant on an injured dragoness' body, but nevertheless she was free. The dragoness' eyes were blinking rapidly, fighting to adjust to the outdoor brightness, but the instant her gaze landed on her son they snapped wide open.
"Eclarius!" she cried.
"He'll be alright, ma'am," Oswald told her quickly. "As far as I can tell he's just passed out from exhaustion. Don't worry, we'll take care of him."
The dragoness choked on another sob, appearing distressed at the sight of her son in such a state even with the healer's reassurance. She reached toward the small yellow dragon with a forepaw but it fell short, and with a grunt she tried to pull herself closer. A sharp cry of pain immediately burst free from her jaws in response.
"Whoa, easy miss," Char interjected. "Your back doesn't look so good. Maybe you shouldn't—"
He was cut off by another muffled cry, the dragoness gritting her fangs and pulling forward in spite of the pain. Cynder could only watch in a daze, her eyes darting between the dragoness' face and the ugly gash that ran across her back, right over her spine. It had to be from the slab of stone ceiling that had fallen on her, and it appeared to be causing significant pain now. Still, the ice dragoness refused to relent.
With her face twisted in a mix of determination and suffering, the distraught mother gave one last desperate heave to bring herself within reach of her child. Her forepaw quivered when she lifted it toward the small yellow hatchling again, but even so her touch was soft and delicate when she made contact. With great care she pulled her young one close to her chest, bringing her head down to nuzzle against him and hold him tight. A trickle of tears leaked from her eyes, and her breathing hitched from another sob as she finally let the stress and fear of the past several days pour out.
Cynder remained silent as she watched from the side, the other two dragons doing likewise. She couldn't imagine the kind of fear that this family must have endured, trapped with no idea if they were ever going to get out. With her shadow powers she never had to worry about that kind of scenario, but without it...She was just happy that they were safe. After another couple of minutes the dragoness began to calm down.
"Pass me some water, please," Oswald requested, reaching out a hand toward Char.
The fire dragon complied wordlessly, reaching a forepaw into his satchel and withdrawing a water skin. It was on the small size for a dragon, but rather large for the mole and he grunted as it was handed to him. After pulling the cork free he held it toward the ice dragoness.
"Here," he said, giving a soft smile. "Take as much as you need."
The dragoness' eyes had locked onto the water skin with unmistakeable thirst as soon as Char had produced it. With merely a nod she reached out a forepaw and took it, tipping it back into her mouth without pause. After several long gulps she finally stopped for air, letting out a relieved gasp as the water soothed her parched throat. Her voice was noticeably less hoarse when she spoke again.
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome," the mole replied, smiling again. "And now for your young one. Can you do me a favour and hold is head back?"
The dragoness nodded again, carefully lifting her child's head up and tilting it backward so that the little dragon's mouth fell open. Oswald took the water skin and cautiously dripped the water into the hatchling's mouth, waiting for him to swallow reflexively and taking great care not to allow it to slip down his windpipe. The process was slow and meticulous, taking several minutes for what would have only amounted to a sip for Cynder, but Oswald was patient in his work. Finally he corked the water skin again and handed it back to Char.
"There we go."
"Was that enough?" the dragoness asked anxiously.
"We'll have more for him once he wakes up. For now, it's best we just wait and let him rest."
The ice dragoness frowned, her worried gaze settling upon her son's face, but she resigned herself to the healer's council.
"Now, if you'll just give me a moment to check on your back then we can get you two moved to a more comfortable setting to recover."
He began walking around toward the dragoness' side, and her posture stiffened marginally as she watched him. Boulder stepped forward, using his power to create a set of stone steps that Oswald gratefully used to reach a height where he could properly view the wound. Once there he began his examination, gently prodding at the area around the gash with his fingers. When he pressed on the dragoness' spine just above where the cut was she let out a sharp groan of pain and her whole body seized up.
"Sorry," the mole quickly apologized. "How much does it hurt when I do that?"
The dragoness sucked in a breath through her teeth to compose herself before she could answer. "A lot. It's not as bad when you leave it alone, but moving it or pushing on it is really painful."
"Hmm. Are you able to feel your extremities? Try moving your feet and tail for me."
The dragoness nodded, her features tensing. A second later the toes on her hind paws curled and the end of her tail swung back and forth. Oswald nodded approvingly.
"That's good. Your back most likely isn't broken then. Possibly only a fracture, but nothing time and maybe a small gem shard won't take care of."
His expression clouded when he turned his attention to the cut itself, though, and Cynder felt a twinge of unease when she saw this. Looking toward the injury she tried to discern what about it was so concerning but she had trouble judging it properly because of all of the dust from the collapse that covered it.
That was when she realized that this was exactly the problem. With that much dirt sitting in an open wound for days on end...
Oswald reached out his hand again, and Char passed over the water skin that he was still holding. With delicate care, the mold began rinsing the dust away from the gash. The dragoness winced, even though Oswald appeared to be trying his best to avoid hurting her wherever it was avoidable. Sure enough, once the water began to wash the dirt and grime away Cynder could see that the flesh around the gash was a bright, inflamed red.
"Cynder," Oswald spoke up, "I'll need your help with this."
The black dragoness nodded, stepping over toward the ice breather's other side. She paused when she noticed the way the adult's body tensed again, however, turning to look into the dragoness' eyes and seeing the same conflicted, fearful look as before there. Cynder offered as disarming a smile as she could manage, hoping to ease whatever worries the ice dragoness was harbouring, but she wasn't sure if it worked. The other dragoness didn't relax, but she also made no protest when Cynder resumed her approach.
A moment later Cynder was standing with her forepaws braced against the ice dragoness' side, bringing her head up high enough to see the wound clearly. Oswald nodded when she met his eyes, gesturing toward the wound. He didn't need to speak for Cynder to know what he expected. This wasn't the first time they had encountered a situation like this while working together.
"Alright," she said, glancing down toward their patient again. "This will probably sting a little bit at first, but try to relax as much as you can."
More unease sparked in the dragoness' eyes, but Cynder didn't allow herself to dwell on it. Stretching her forepaw up to the adult's back, she coated it in a thin film of her poison element and gently pressed it down over the wound. She felt the dragoness flinch again but she refused to be distracted, focusing on the desired effects she wanted her venom to have: sterilize the wound, and numb the pain. By this point she'd had plenty of practice with both applications, and within moments the dragoness began to relax as her pain gradually dulled. When Cynder retracted her paw there was a thin coating of viscous green fluid left behind, covering the wound and preventing any more dirt from getting in. It looked like the inflammation had already faded by the slightest bit.
"Perfect, thank you," Oswald said with a quick smile. "You know, for so-called 'dark' elements, they sure come in handy for rescue work."
Cynder smiled back, a brief feeling of pride swelling in her chest. Meanwhile Oswald turned his attention back to the ice dragoness.
"Is that feeling any better?"
"Uh...yes. It doesn't hurt as much anymore."
"Good. Then we should be in good shape to move you out of here. Boulder?"
The earth dragon stepped forward again. Once Cynder and Oswald had backed away he concentrated his power and caused a platform of stone to rise up underneath the dragoness and her son. Two stone wheels materialized, one on either side, along with a pair of handles and a simple stone harness that could rest over a dragon's back. Just like that, a makeshift cart had been fashioned and was ready to depart.
"Could you please deliver these two over to the healing camp in the Gardens?" Oswald asked, lookup up at Char.
"Right away," the fire dragon replied.
Passing his satchel over to Boulder, who looped it over his free shoulder, Char slid underneath the cart's harness and stood. The weight seemed to be negligible, Boulder having done a good job balancing it over the axle, and two notches had been carved into either side of the harness which made for convenient grips for Char's wings, allowing him to brace the harness securely against his back. In short order he was ready to depart with his passengers.
"Alright, miss," he said. "Hang on to your little one. I'll do my best to get you through the streets smoothly, but they're pretty beat up right now. It might get bumpy in some places."
The dragoness nodded, wrapping her forelegs around the small lightning dragon and holding him close to her chest. Once satisfied, Char began to ease the cart forward. Just at that moment, though, the dragoness' eyes widened.
"Wait!"
Char faltered at the sudden exclamation, looking back at the dragoness in confusion. Cynder, Oswald and Boulder were similarly puzzled, everyone looking to their patient.
The ice dragoness looked embarrassed by the attention, but when she turned her eyes toward Cynder her expression changed. The conflicted look was back, along with uncertainty, but this time there was more behind it. For a long moment there was silence, the dragoness grappling with her thoughts, and Cynder waited in uneasy anticipation.
The ice dragoness closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep, slow breath.
"Thank you," she said softly, and Cynder faltered again in surprise. When the dragoness met her gaze again, her eyes showed gratitude and relief. "Thank you for saving me, and for saving my son."
For a second Cynder couldn't bring herself to reply, caught off guard, but a smile quickly formed on her muzzle after that. She bowed her head in acknowledgement, and after awkwardly returning the gesture the ice dragoness turned her attention forward once more. Char took this as his cue to move out, flashing a quick smile toward Cynder before setting off down the street. The stone wheels of the cart rattled and ground as they turned, but they served their purpose and soon Char and his passengers were underway without much difficulty, disappearing around a bend in the road soon afterward. Oswald turned a smile toward the black dragoness, patting her shoulder.
"Nice work," he declared. "Good job everyone. Two more to add to the tally."
Cynder and Boulder both took a moment to bask in their accomplishment before their demeanours became business-like once more.
"I can't sense anyone else in the area," Bolder told them, closing his eyes and focusing his power into the earth again. "I think we're good to move on."
"Very good. Let's get going then. We still have a lot of ground to cover."
Cynder nodded in agreement, and together the party of three set off down the street, the green glow manifesting around Boulder's forepaws once more.
*.*.*
It had been a long day. Overhead the sky was shifting from its bright, crisp blue to a warmer, fiery orange as the sun began its descent. Temperatures had already begun to drop now that the sun's light could no longer reach the city streets, which had been a congested hive of activity all day but now were finally beginning to quiet. Workers were retiring for the evening, and the Guards' night patrols were setting out for their rounds. That familiar, pervasive silence was beginning to fall over Warfang, one that had become common in the days following the attack, carrying relief from a hard day's work but also unease over what the growing darkness may conceal.
At the outskirts of the principal field hospital grounds in the western market square two weary figures could be seen trudging back toward the stone shelters. Oswald turned to look up at Cynder as he worked his stout legs to keep up with the dragoness's longer strides.
"Well, that was another busy day," he remarked as their destination approached. He pulled at the strap of his satchel, rolling his shoulder and wincing. "I really hope I'm not too sore tomorrow."
Cynder suppressed a chuckle, doing her best to hide her own aches and pains. "Will we be making more rounds in the morning? We didn't get to all of the streets that the gem crews had cleared."
Oswald shook his head. "No, the other rescue crews covered them. It will likely be another day or two before we can move into the next block."
"Oh...So, what are you going to be doing tomorrow, then?"
The mole paused when he had to squeeze over to the side of the path to allow a pair of coyotes to pass, one walking with the assistance of a crutch while his other arm was braced over the shoulders of his companion. "There's been a request for more help at the eastern relief centre. I'll probably be taking a shift there. What about you? Thinking of taking a break?"
"A break?" Cynder repeated with a tone of faint surprise. "No, I don't think so. If the search and rescue is on hold then I guess I'll see if I can help out some more around here."
She trailed off, and her eyes turned out toward Warfang's buildings while a knot formed in her stomach. Oswald seemed to notice her troubled look.
"Hey," he said, catching her attention once more. "I know you're worried about the people that could still be out there, but if I can give some advice: Don't dwell on it. I'm worried too, but there isn't anything more that either of us can do for them right now. If you keep worrying about it, it will drive you crazy. Focus on the lives you did save today."
The black dragoness considered these words for a silent moment before giving a small nod of her head, a half-hearted smile appearing at the corner of her muzzle. "I know. Thanks. It's just hard not to think about it when I feel like I could still be doing more." She let out a faint chuckle. "Guess that's something that rubbed off on me from Spyro."
Oswald shared in her amusement before his eyes turned quizzical. "You've already been doing more than anyone could have asked of you, though. I mean, all your help with the wounded here, plus the hunting parties, and now with the search and rescue teams? Trust me, the effort you've been putting in has been noticed, and it's deeply appreciated, but the last thing anyone wants is for you to run yourself into the ground."
Cynder regarded the mole with an unconvinced look of her own. His statement was touching, but the idea of slowing down didn't settle with her. Again, Oswald took notice.
"Cynder, I mean it," he told her, his voice kind but firm. "The other healers and I are immensely grateful for the help you've been giving, and your talents have been invaluable, but you do need to look after yourself too. If you wear yourself out too much, or Ancestors forbid even hurt yourself, you won't be any good to anyone. Take another bit of advice and slow down for a bit to recharge. There will still be plenty to do the next day."
The dragoness said nothing. Once again she was touched by the concern and kindness that Oswald was displaying, but there was still a nagging voice inside her head that sang a different tune.
Almost everywhere she looked, she saw suffering. The city's workers and volunteers were doing everything in their power to preserve morale, focusing on their tasks and rebuilding what they could, but underneath it all there were innumerable, unshakeable scars afflicting people's bodies and spirits alike. Everyone was hurting after the attack.
But when she looked at herself? Nothing. Not a single mark or blemish remained on her scales to testify to the battle that they had all endured. Tyrannica had brought a nightmare crashing down on the city, but Cynder had escaped it completely unharmed. Spyro had made certain of that.
Now he was lying comatose in a healer's shelter, alive thanks only to his sheer determination and the tireless efforts of Warfang's surviving healers. Her friends were all battered and shaken, broken physically and dealing with the trauma of everything they had seen. The Guardians were too hurt to perform their duties. Terrador...
She winced, the image of the Earth Guardian's body flashing within her mind.
In the past she had been the one sowing a very similar kind of suffering upon the lands, while the people of Warfang and the Dragon Realms were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect everything they cared for. Now, in the wake of this latest catastrophe here she was, untouched and unharmed, while so many people that deserved better hadn't made it out of that nightmare at all.
It isn't right, she thought darkly. I can't stop.
"Cynder?"
The dragoness jumped when she realized that she'd become lost in her thoughts again, and she quickly turned her gaze back to Oswald. The healer was watching her with a questioning look about him. She gave a sheepish smile.
"I appreciate the concern, Oswald, and I get what you're saying, but I'm fine. Really."
The mole didn't appear convinced, holding his scrutinizing stare for a few more seconds before giving up with a sigh. A minute later the pair had reached an intersection in the field hospital's walkways and there they said their farewells. Cynder waved with her wing as he departed, and only after he'd disappeared around another corner did she resume her own route toward the Guardians' hut.
It'll be fine, she told herself. I'm not too tired. I can still help.
The thought of her friends passed through her mind again, and the black dragoness let out a tense sigh as concern for them wormed through her, but then a new idea took root. She glanced up at the darkening sky. It wasn't too late yet. Maybe visiting hours hadn't quite been cut off.
She turned right at the next intersection in the narrow walkways rather than continuing straight on, a new destination in mind. After a couple more turns her goal came into view, the small stone hut appearing completely indistinct from all the rest but familiar all the same. As she approached she could just make out voices from inside.
"...no strenuous activity for at least two more weeks," a female voice was saying, her tone carrying a note of authority—a mole, from what Cynder could gather. "The ribs have set, but they need more time to strengthen. That means no running, no fighting or training, and no flying either. The more bed rest he gets, the better."
Cynder heard a familiar, dramatic groan sound out just as she reached the hut's doorway, and she had to stifle a small chuckle at the owner's expense. Peering inside she was greeted by a small room with two makeshift cots, one fashioned from a couple of thin tattered cushions and the other no more than a bundled-up blanket. Two young male dragons were resting upon them, while a mole healer was conversing with an adult dragoness. Chinook and Flash she had been expecting to see, but Gale's presence was a bit of a surprise.
"I understand," the wind dragoness said in reply to the mole's instructions, nodding her head. "We'll make sure he keeps out of trouble. He already knew that he was going to be grounded for the next few weeks anyway."
The last sentence was spoken while directing a stern look toward the smaller grey dragon, and Chinook uttered another miserable groan.
"Mom, that's not fair," he protested. "You let me and Flash go out to help fight. Master Terr—"
He winced and cut himself off. Beyond the doorway Cynder likewise cringed at the mention of the Earth Guardian's name. Gale's glare wavered for a split second, but only that.
"I let you go out to try and help your friends," she said sharply. "I was hoping that if and when you found them you would all have the sense to stay close to the adult soldiers where they could watch over you. Ideally, I hoped you would start trying to work your way back to the shelters. I did not let you go so you could fly off to pick a fight head-on with Tyrannica! Both of you are lucky that a few weeks of recovery is the worst that happened to you!"
Chinook scowled and looked away, looking thoroughly defeated and abashed. Flash did likewise from the other cot. Despite the grave atmosphere that had descended over the group their expressions were still enough to elicit another chuckle from Cynder, one she fought to suppress with only partial success. The sound drew a glance from Chinook, and surprise darted across his features when he spotted her head poking past the edge of the doorway.
"Cynder?"
The room's other occupants turned similarly surprised looks her way, and when she realized she was caught Cynder waved a wing with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry to barge in," she said. "I was just heading back to the Guardians' room and figured I'd stop by to check on how these guys were doing."
"Oh, that's alright," Gale recovered quickly, adopting her own slightly embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry you had to listen to that."
Cynder flicked her wing dismissively, and Gale relaxed. The wind dragoness turned her attention back to the two males.
"Okay, well I'll wait outside while you two have your visit. I want you ready to go after that, though. We're going straight home and you're going to be staying there until I say otherwise."
"Yes, Mom..."
"Yes, Gale..."
The wind dragoness bobbed her head in satisfaction, and with that she rose and made for the hut's doorway. The mole healer moved alongside her, resuming her instructions from before.
"Now, Coronus will need to leave his stitches in for probably the next week while his wing membrane finishes re-growing, and during that time you'll need to wash them twice daily with clean water. You won't be able to let him fly for at least another twenty days after that, though, or the tear will just re-open..."
Her voice faded as the pair vanished through the doorway, and Cynder turned her focus back to her friends. Chinook was gingerly pushing himself up into a sitting position, his gaze locked firmly on his paws, while Flash was content to stay lying down for the moment. He greeted Cynder with a smile once they were alone.
"So?" the dragoness spoke up, giving her own smile. "It sounds like you're getting out of here, huh? I'm glad to hear it."
"Yeah, the healers think they've done all they really can for us at this point," Flash responded. "Just have to let time work now."
"It's too bad they don't have any more spirit gems to give us," Chinook commented, wincing slightly as he finished sitting up and his weight shifted. "I mean, I've broken bones before, but who knew it took this long for them to heal all on their own? It's ridiculous!"
"I hear the moles have it worse," Flash said. "Even without gems, they say dragons heal pretty quickly compared to them."
"You serious? Man, that sucks."
"Well, either way, I'm happy that you guys are doing well enough to release," Cynder cut in. "It must feel good to finally get out of this place."
Chinook chuckled half-heartedly. "Well, we're basically just going from one prison to another, so..."
Cynder smirked. "Come on. It won't be that bad. At least you've got your own beds to go back to, right? That has to be better than this place."
Another dry laugh came in response but it was cut off with a wince, Chinook reaching up to his bandaged flank. Cynder could still see the bruised scales showing underneath the wrappings, blotchy and discoloured, though it was a lot better than it had been after the battle. Meanwhile Flash had begun trying to rise into a seated position as well, but he faltered with a gasp when the pressure on his forelegs made the long gash over his shoulders flare in protest. Cynder stole a glance at his injury, her features tightening at the sight of his wing in particular. Thread could be seen stitched along the tear, holding the flaps of membrane together, and the half-healed seam between them formed a knotted and wrinkled blemish in the otherwise shimmering, iridescent colours flowing across the rest of his wings.
Flash recovered from his bout of pain a moment later, carefully rising up to full sitting height, and it was at that moment that he noticed Cynder's stare. His own expression soured.
"Come on, guys. Stop looking at me like that. It's not that bad."
Cynder blinked and shook her head roughly, her face flushing as she internally berated herself for staring. When she looked toward Chinook she saw that he had also turned away, his posture stiff and his bearing now feeling oddly deflated.
"Sorry," Cynder told the light dragon. "It's just good to see you up and moving again. I know I said it before, you but had us all worried for a while."
Flash nodded in understanding. "Yeah, well, I'll have to make sure to thank Spyro when I can. The healers said that him slowing the bleeding down helped me out a lot."
Chinook perked up at the purple dragon's name, fixing Cynder with a questioning gaze. "How is he doing?"
Cynder hesitated, her mind flashing back once more to the image of her purple-scaled companion lying motionlessly on top of that thin mat in the Guardians' hut, but she shook it off after a second.
"Better," she answered simply.
The wind dragon gave a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, good."
"Yeah, speaking of having people worried," Flash commented with a humourless snort. "I never got a look at him before the healers separated us all, but the things Enigma told us after her last visit were...ugly."
That caught Cynder's attention. "Enigma visited? I haven't actually seen her since the battle."
Flash nodded. "Yeah, she stopped by a couple of times. She's doing pretty well. She still had her wing wrapped up when she was here the other day, but she said the healers were expecting her to make a full recovery."
Cynder let out a quiet breath, some of the tension that had gathered in her shoulders slackening. "Good. Last time Elder Tythos was over visiting Sirius he said that Faren was doing well too."
The two males' expressions brightened a touch more at that news.
"That's a relief," Chinook said. "So, it's sounding like the gang made it out of things in mostly one piece."
"Well, there's still Voltra," Flash pointed out, a thoughtful frown growing on his muzzle. "Have you heard anything about her?"
Cynder once again faltered at the mention of the yellow dragoness. In all of the chaos she'd almost forgotten about her, but now that her name was mentioned Cynder felt a rush of old thoughts and feelings come flooding back to her.
"I..." Chinook began, only to trail off. "Actually, no, I haven't heard anything since before the battle. I hope she's okay..."
"Spyro and I saw her at the Infirmary grounds before we left to fight Tyrannica," Cynder spoke up. "She didn't look too badly hurt, but I haven't heard anything since then either."
A few beats of silence fell between the three friends, an air of concern filtering in. It was Flash that found his voice first.
"Maybe Faren knows something?" he suggested. "She was there at the Infirmary too, right?"
Cynder frowned, considering this option. Her mind drifted back to the battle, when she and Spyro had arrived at the Infirmary and reunited with Faren. She recalled the way Voltra had shied away from the three of them, keeping her distance with her father and making no move to interact with any of them. The black dragoness suspected she knew the cause of this behaviour, the accusations that she had levelled in that alleyway ringing in her memories, but did that mean that Voltra was only staying away from her and Spyro, or the whole group?
"Cynder?" Flash's voice broke into her thoughts, startling her. "Everything okay?"
The black dragoness looked up to see both males gazing back at her with concerned and puzzled expressions, and she realized that once again she had zoned out and let her worries show.
This is turning into a bad habit, she scolded herself. She shook her head roughly.
"I don't know if Faren would know anything," she said, carrying on the conversation like nothing had happened. "It's worth a try at least. Maybe if I have time tomorrow I'll try to go visit her and see."
The white and grey dragons exchanged a silent glance with each other, but then Flash met Cynder's eyes and nodded.
"Say hi to her for us if you do see her. Let her know that we hope she gets better fast."
Cynder allowed a smile to form on her muzzle. "I will. I'm sure she'll say the same thing back to you guys."
The atmosphere within the hut became more at ease after that, the trio all reflecting on their own thoughts for a moment. It was then that movement at the doorway drew their gazes, though. When Cynder turned her head around she found Gale leaning her head in from outside.
"Boys, it's getting late. We need to get going."
"Okay, Mom," Chinook replied, while Flash answered with his own obedient nod. The wind dragon turned an apologetic look toward Cynder. "I guess we have to say goodbye here. Thanks for coming to visit again."
"Of course," Cynder smiled. "I'll try to check in on you guys again when I've got a chance. We'll finish catching up then."
"Sounds good."
The conversation ended with another pained growl from Flash as he finally managed to force himself upright. Cynder was quickly over to his side, the light dragon giving her a grateful nod as she helped prop him up with her shoulder. She guided Flash over to Chinook, who was also looking a bit too unsteady to walk on his own, and with her braced between them the trio made their way through the door and out into the chilled evening air. Gale offered an appreciative smile to Cynder as they emerged.
"Come on, you two," she said, most of the sternness gone from her voice and replaced with motherly care. "Once we're back home it's straight to your rooms to rest. You've got a lot of recovering still to do."
She lay down on her belly, bringing her folded wing around to form a makeshift ramp. Flash and Chinook traded a hesitant look, both of them looking embarrassed by the thought of being carried like a pair of hatchlings, but everyone was well aware that in their state the walk back to their house was well beyond their ability. Resignedly, and with Cynder's help, they climbed up the wind dragoness's wing and were soon settled one behind the other atop her back. Giving Cynder one last farewell, Gale set off.
The sky was really starting to darken now, a sharp chill nipping at her scales. Winter was only a month away now, and while Warfang's coastal climate didn't yield any snow like the more northern parts of the continent experienced frost was still common enough. The walkways had quieted noticeably even in the short time Cynder had been inside Flash and Chinook's shelter, all visitors now gone, the patients all settled in for the night. Only guards and the occasional healer could be seen moving about.
A sudden yawn parted the black dragoness' jaws, and all at once Cynder felt the weariness from her hard day's work pressing down on her back. Her stomach rumbled faintly, empty from the lack of an evening meal, but at this point she wasn't sure she had the energy to go get anything. The volunteer food stands would be mostly closed down by this point anyway, and any catches that the hunting parties had brought in would likely have been claimed and distributed already as well. Hunting alone was out of the question too. No one knew what was still lurking outside the walls, and the Guard was taking no chances.
Resigning to wait until morning, Cynder resumed her trek toward her original destination. A few minutes later the large, square shelter that housed the Guardians appeared before her, and she made for the entrance without hesitation. All she wanted to was to get inside, get warm, and settle into her mat for the night.
The sound of wing beats overhead interrupted her. Pausing, Cynder looked up to see another adolescent dragon come to a hover just above the huts' rooftops before folding their wings and dropping over a dozen feet to the paving stones below. Cynder shied away from the thin plume of dust that the impact kicked up before looking up to see Nexus shaking himself off and straightening up.
"Getting in a bit late tonight?" she asked. "I thought the daytime patrols usually ended an hour ago."
"Yeah," Nexus grunted. "Our shadow wing-member thought he felt something when we were passing the woods, though. Took a while to clear the area, and after we got back we had to explain the delay to the wing commander."
Cynder frowned, a hint of tension creeping through her form. "Felt something? In the shadows? Do you think it was a wraith?"
"We can't rule out the possibility," Nexus answered with a small shrug, sounding dismissive, but Cynder caught the hardened edge in his eyes as well. "Everyone suspects that they're still hanging around to keep eyes on the city after the attack. Even if there haven't been any sightings, the smart thing to do is assume it's true."
Cynder didn't answer, her features darkening as she digested this news. While she knew it was naive of her, she had hoped that they could get a true span of peace to recover from the battle. She didn't want to have to deal with the wraiths again so soon.
"What about you?" Nexus suddenly spoke up, snapping her from her thoughts. "You're getting in late too."
"Oh, yeah," Cynder nodded. "I stopped to see Chik and Flash. They're going home tonight."
"Ah," Nexus replied, giving another quick grunt. "Good."
"They were asking about Spyro..." Cynder trailed off, looking toward the entrance of the shelter and biting her lip. "You still haven't had any luck talking to him, have you? Are you going to try again tonight?"
The purple dragon nodded. "That's the plan."
"Okay. Well, if it works, tell him—"
"Tell him you're worried, and you're here for him, yada yada. I know. Sparx is right; all this mushy stuff gets exhausting."
Cynder bristled, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment that rose from the other dragon's dismissal. In the end she said nothing to contradict him, though, and with a small roll of his eyes Nexus padded forward and disappeared into the shelter. After lingering behind for a few second Cynder sighed and followed him.
The sight inside was the same one that had greeted her many times over the past several days, and it brought with it the same melancholy feeling as it always did. Spyro was lying in exactly the same position he had been when she departed that morning, limp on his side, his form shrouded in worn bandages, his expression slack and blank. He looked peaceful at least, no healers working on him at the moment and leaving him alone to rest, but she had been hoping for more. She had hoped against hope that she would walk in and find him awake to greet her, but of course that had been nothing but wishful thinking. She suppressed another sigh, stepping quietly over toward her own thin bedding nearby.
"Oh, hey Damsel," Sparx's voice rang out. Cynder looked up to see the yellow dragonfly floating over toward her, waving. "Another busy day?"
"Hey, Sparkles," Cynder replied, giving a half smirk. "Yeah, busy for sure."
"So what's the tally from today?"
A lighter smile grew on her muzzle. "Seventeen."
"Whoa," Sparx gaped before breaking out in his own grin. "Nice work! You're going to put the professional rescuers out of work if you keep ringing up numbers like those."
The dragoness let out a quiet chuckle. "I don't know about that, but I try my best."
"Yeah, well, keep it up and you just might do it. Wouldn't that be a story, huh? 'Amateur rescue volunteer puts Warfang's best to shame!' Scandalous."
Cynder laughed again, shaking her head. It seemed strange given their history, but the dragoness was genuinely grateful for Sparx's presence and his quips over the past few days—though she would never admit it to him. Hearing him making light of a tense situation as he always did helped her to take it all in stride as well.
Still chuckling to himself, Sparx moved back to rejoin his parents, with whom Cynder exchanged a silent nod before she turned her own attention back toward Spyro. Her smile faded slightly as she stood examining his almost lifeless expression, and she reached out with a paw to gently brush it across his golden crest. As expected, he didn't stir in the slightest.
Disappointed, Cynder stepped away and finally reached her mat, lowering herself down upon it with a weary groan. A few paces away Nexus had already stretched out flat on top of the scrap of rug that served as his bedding, his eyes closed and his form completely still save for the slow, steady rise and fall of his flanks. Cynder couldn't tell if he had already fallen asleep or not, but in the end she dismissed it as irrelevant. Instead she laid her head down atop her forepaws and allowed her heavy eyelids to slide shut, the distant fog of sleep already beginning to close in around her.
Please, wake up soon Spyro, she thought longingly, just before her weariness claimed her and she drifted away into empty slumber.
(A/N): This chapter gave me a bit of trouble. An issue I'm having is that while I have no shortage of material for this entry in the series, fitting it all together into a cohesive storyline is proving to be a bit of an effort. I appreciate everyone's patience as I get this figured out, as always! :)
Random fact for this chapter: I tried to do some research into whether it was actually possible to give water to unconscious people like Oswald did in this chapter, because little details like that can actually bug me once they get stuck in my head. I got mixed results, mostly saying "No, don't do it, it's too high of a choking/drowning risk", but there were enough backing remarks underneath all of that on whether it was technically possible that I felt like, in a more Medieval setting like this, it was reasonable. It was an interesting factoid for me to pick up while writing this, at least.
Expect the next update to take a while to complete, sadly. As I said, plot cohesion is a bit out there at the moment so I'm going to take a bit of time to iron out the sequence of events of things to come. Also, it's been way too long since I've drawn anything so I want to take some time as well to get a cover page for this story put together. I know exactly what I want to do for it, so it's just a matter of actually doing it. Hopefully the rust isn't TOO horrible.
Until next time!