Behold, chapter two of "Brotherhood of the Enemy." Thank you, all, for checking out my story!

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Onward!

Erdamir's quarters were far more spacious than Spyro thought. A circular room that accommodated him and the other dragons from Warfang - Sparx included - was no small feat. The walls were adorned with a plethora of medals, most awarded for his courage in battle. Spyro traced around the achievements. The last battle proved to him they were all well earned. A fire bomb would have cooked him if not for Erdamir shielding him with his wing. One of the few instances that stuck out to Spyro at Clawreaver. The entire incident was mostly a blur of fire and fighting.

Sparx passed by the collection and squinted at a few of them like a curator for a museum.

"Sheesh, fight a few battles in your lifetime?" he asked.

Flame and Ember glared at him. The others gathered around a table at the center. It wasn't as elaborate or fancy as Spyro had thought for an Archdragon. He stepped over as Erdamir rounded the table and settled on the other side, tail nestled underneath the wooden legs. His eyes brushed over maps, letters, and other documents that overlapped each other. It was a mess of papers.

"Indeed," Erdamir nodded to Sparx, who hovered closer, "and I'm afraid there will be many more to come."

That got Sparx to shy away, driving his gaze to the stone floor.

"Two attacks in the last two weeks," Terrador said, gesturing to a map sprawling across the table. "They're becoming more confident, more diligent. Another strike is inevitable. How many attacked Scalemar and Clawreaver?"

Erdamir shifted a paper aside to reference the manuscript, "According to my officers' calculations, Scalemar was attacked by roughly six hundred fifty troops, Clawreaver by about five hundred."

"Why would they attack in such low numbers?" Flame asked lifting his head to get a better view of the numbers, raising a brow. "If they wanted to take over the neighboring cities so badly, why wouldn't they initiate a full-fledged attack?"

"Maybe they weren't trying to take them over?" Ember replied, wincing as though she wasn't even sure of that.

Flame growled, glancing to the side, "What's the point of the attack then?"

"That's what I wanted to meet with you all about," Erdamir said. His tone was heavy, strained. There was no focus to him, delving into his own head before shaking himself out of it. "While many of the buildings were burned to the ground, there was one kind of building in both Clawreaver and Scalemar that was more or less preserved."

"And what building would that be?" Cyril asked, leaning in.

Erdamir swept his gaze, meeting eye to eye with everyone, until they landed on Spyro. It was more intense than last time, narrowing ever so slightly, before breaking off to face the group.

"The crystal depot. One of Clawreaver's was ransacked last night, and I've received similar reports from Scalemar."

There was an uncomfortable silence. No words, no movement, not even the beat of Sparx's wings. Spyro swallowed. If there was one thing he was glad to find in abundance on his journeys, it was crystals. To have them raided caused a cloud of worry to hang over him. He was sure the others were the same, except for Erdamir. He was simply grim.

"They've been stealing our crystals?!" Cyril yelled, the words echoing.

Erdamir nodded slowly, "I'm afraid so."

"How many did they take?" Spyro asked. He almost didn't want to raise the question, his insides tightening at how bad the answer might turn out.

"Not enough to do any considerable damage to us," Erdamir said, heaving a sigh, "but enough for us to notice. It would explain why they attacked in such small numbers. Easier for them to get in and out of the city quickly without suffering any major losses. It appears the small force is a distraction tactic for a few of them to sneak to the crystal depots and grab all they can. The guards posted outside the depots in both Scalemar and Clawreaver were found dead."

"I'm sorry, but were hatchlings guarding the doors?" Cyril snarled. Spyro almost expected him to let out a laugh as though it was a joke.

Volteer huffed, sparing a sideways glance to Cyril. He could literally snap at him. Instead, he spoke with a level voice, "Do not underestimate our human enemies, Cyril. You know they are surprisingly good fighters."

"Yeah," Flame grunted, baring his teeth, "and we're dragons. We shouldn't be having such a problem ripping them to shreds."

"Perhaps your troops are not fit for battle, Archdragon," Cyril said with a sarcastic tone.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Erdamir snarled. His wise, marred expression melted to a monster. Leaf-green energy slipped from between his teeth, snout lowered for battle, even his wings flared. He wasn't just defensive, he was ready to tear Cyril to pieces.

Cynder scampered in front of the two towering dragons, spreading her wings to maintain the distance between them. It was more than what Spyro did. He was still in shock that Cyril would say something so harsh, let alone fear that Erdamir would sink his claws into one of them.

"Knock it off, you two!" Cynder shouted. Cyril dwarfed her, and Erdamir was a mountain of scales and muscle. Yet her tone carried authority, glaring up at them. "We don't have time to argue amongst ourselves!"

Neither of them backed down, settling for a staring match that was one breath away from turning bloody.

"Cynder is right," Terrador said gruffly. It was enough to finally have Erdamir relax his posture, and allow Spyro to release the breath he was holding. "We need to stay focused on what's important here, which means no insults!" He eyed Cyril, who withdrew his head to dampen his growl. "Our crystals are being stolen. Without them, we can't heal our troops. And we have no idea what the Pillari could be using them for."

"What if we sent some spies into Pillasia?" Volteer threw out with an idle shrug. "Maybe they could relay some useful information to us?"

"I agree we need more information," Terrador said, humming to himself, "but again, it's too risky for us to go into unknown territory. There's no telling what would become of our spies if they were taken prisoner."

Spyro mulled on that notion more than the others. They carried the conversation to different suggestions, all of which were shot down due to flaws in the process. The minutes waned, and a spark cracked through Spyro, not unlike his electrical element.

"Okay..." he said slowly. Ember abruptly halted in her idea, and all eyes turned to him. Spyro was too entrapped in his thoughts to notice. "So we can't send our troops into their city. That's fair, no one has ever been there. But...what if we took one of them into ours?"

Terrador tilted his head, "What do you mean?"

"Well…" Spyro hesitated, heart pounding and steeling himself. "What if we were to capture one of the Pillari? We could get them to talk and divulge whatever we need."

It sounded far better aloud than in his head. The idea had merit, and nods from the others proved it.

"That's not a bad idea, Spyro," Erdamir said with a smile, begrudgingly. "Not a bad idea at all."

Cyril bristled, breathing out a flurry of snowflakes, "Not a bad idea indeed, except for one thing: How do we know this murderer would tell the truth? For all we know, he could be telling us lies just to keep his sorry hide alive."

His comment trampled on the idea, one Spyro had confidence in. His first reaction was to retort with a reason, stay defensive. It took a lot of effort to swallow that down. He puffed out his chest.

"What other choice do we have?" he said. "The more crystals they steal, the more potentially dangerous they become. If we don't do something soon, our armies are going to start to weaken, leaving us vulnerable to a full-scale siege that could easily lose us the war. We need information, and this might be the only way. It's at least worth a shot."

Cynder shifted her weight uncomfortably, "I hate to bring this up, but I did used to work for Malefor...so let's just say I know how to handle an interrogation."

"No offense, young one," Cyril said, holding up a paw, "but the interrogation should be performed by an older, more experienced dragon."

"Like you?" Cynder asked. It was cold, distant, and enough for Cyril to back off. He muttered to himself, though Spyro focused more on Cynder. He didn't like the prospect of using what she learned from Malefor, of all dragons, to help them.

Volteer cleared his throat, idly scratching his neck with a claw, "As much as I am disheartened by Cynder's unfortunate past, I believe her experience with the darkness could prove useful in reeling out the information we so desire."

It was the opportune time for Spyro to voice his concern, but his heart couldn't go through with it. He had confidence in Cynder. The others must have felt the same, as no one spoke a word. It bothered Spyro that they didn't look at her though. Erdamir shifted his jaw, as though chewing, eyes darting around the room.

"Brother," Terrador said, far more quietly than Spyro expected from him. Erdamir rested his gaze on him. "I know it's risky, but if Cynder could truly perform a successful interrogation, the information we obtain could turn the war in our favor. It's your call."

Erdamir didn't make a sound. It was eerie, the way he studied Cynder for a crack in her resolve. She stood firm, and Spyro instinctively drifted closer to her. It didn't go unnoticed by Erdamir, but he didn't call it out. Instead, he straightened and snorted a fume of emerald energy.

"We will capture a Pillarian for questioning."

Spyro caught everyone's expressions. Cyril bowed his head, brow furrowed hard. Terrador and Volteer stood unwavering; there wasn't a lot to glean from them. Flame and Ember glanced at one another, and it was what Spyro took note of the most. The idea was not favorable. Cynder bumped against him and got him to look at her. Her smile eased some of the tension.

"Alright then," Terrador said. There was resignation in his tone, nodding sagely. "Now, how are we going to go about capturing one?"

"Well," Ember said, "they have to go out hunting for food at some point. Maybe we could attack one of their hunting parties?"

"Excellent idea, Ember," Erdamir said, beaming. Flame smiled proudly, and Spyro had to catch himself from chuckling. "We'll need to determine where and when their hunting parties go out during the day." He brushed aside more papers until he slid out a smaller map. One section was circled in red, and Erdamir tapped it. "Spyro, Cynder, I'd like for you to fly to the Cheetah Village and see if they would be willing to send out a small group of scouts to determine the Pillari's hunting schedule."

"We'll leave right away," Cynder replied.

"We wish you luck," Erdamir said with a bow of his head. Spyro and Cynder nodded back and headed for the door. Sparx uttered a goodbye, and Spyro barely caught it. He glanced back at him to find him nestled in the back, nearly invisible. Spyro winked at him before passing through the doorway.

Outside, they took in the city again, from the damaged walls and beaten streets to the somber faces of a handful of dragons. Dragons still forced a mop to the dried blood on the cobblestones. The air was still contaminated, dry and tainted. The sky was shrouded in a billowing gray smoke, floating away from the burned deceased beyond their sight. It was enough to nearly taste it. Spyro swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

Cynder stared listlessly at nothing in particular. Spyro wondered if she shared the same thought as him. To find such tragedy compared to Warfang was jarring, like stepping into another world.

Spyro sighed, faintly smelling the smoke, before pushing off into the sky. Cynder did the same with only a second of hesitation. Their wings silently brought them over the devastation, and Spyro refused to spare another glance. He was dead set on the horizon.

"You think Prowlus will help us out with this?"

Spyro tilted his head to Cynder. They had flown for hours. The land below had shifted and morphed from hilly grasslands to scattered forests and plains. Avalar was as luscious as it ever was, and the Cheetah Village wasn't far off now, which meant speaking to Prowlus again. Spyro exhaled.

"He can certainly be stubborn," he said, flapping his wings a little harder, "but we've come to the Cheetah's aid on more than one occasion throughout the years. It only makes sense for them to return the favor. I wouldn't put it past him to refuse though."

"Hunter'll help us anyway," Cynder laughed. "So typical of him to play the hero."

She had a knowing look on her that Spyro saw right through. He pursed his lips, but eventually gave in and chuckled. It was like a breath of fresh air.

"He's always done what he thinks is right," Spyro said pointedly. Cynder rolled her eyes, her smile widening. "Besides, it won't come to that. Prowlus will come around. You'll see."

"Maybe after a few subtle insults," Cynder said slyly, brushing past Spyro to fly ahead.

The flight was a good reminder for why Spyro enjoyed these moments. They were peaceful, an escape from the bloodshed and death. To fly leagues above the world, together. Cynder tilted her head to the trees below with a smirk. Spyro followed her gaze for trouble, legs tensing, ready to spring into action. Instead, Cynder descended into his line of sight with that playful energy he hadn't seen in ages.

She did a corkscrew before swooping down into the trees. The branches and trunks barely hindered her, effortlessly gliding in between them.

Giddiness overwhelmed Spyro. He folded his wings and plummeted after her, stopping above the tops. His paws graced the leaves, ruffling them and eliciting a giggle from Cynder.

A wall of rock took up the side. A sheer cliffside that Cynder ran along before pushing off and twisting her shoulders into an elegant spin. The foliage almost seemed to bend away to allow her to pass them, emerging from the trees. Leaves spilled out from the wind.

Geez, she's a twister, isn't she? Spyro thought.

Pounding his wings, he ascended to the top of the cliff. His paws dug into the dirt until he ran along the edge, legs already straining to keep his speed.

One solid push away from the cliff rocketed Spyro ahead of Cynder. He dipped down into a rapid forward spin, earth formed around him until he was a boulder plunging back towards the forest. Faster and faster, he headed for the ground. It broke past tree limbs and brush, the rocky undergrowth ready to meet him.

Then the boulder burst, and Spyro zoomed through the air. The wind was loud and rammed into his face. By the time he slowed to a halt, his wings catching him before he fell, he was amongst the clouds. His lungs burned, his legs and wings were sore, and he felt light headed, but a brimming smile refused to leave him.

He eased himself back below the clouds to Cynder. She hovered at the edge of the forest, mouth agape before slamming it shut and turning away with eyes half-lidded.

"I could do that," she said. He looped around her to look her in the eyes before nuzzling her neck.

"Oh yeah?" he said, gently shoving her before flying off.

There was a stifled giggle as she caught up with him, staying by his side, but Spyro was still relishing their little competition. The days when he learned to soar felt like a lifetime ago, but times like that brought him back to those innocent days. The days of discovery and adventure.

The reason for that adventure darkened his thoughts. There was little room for levity, even back then. It was as though the world had reminded him that it was temporary.

"There it is," Cynder said, hushed. Spyro broke away to see a broad plain surrounded by cliffs and high hills. And across the Bletta River was the Cheetah Village. Whether Cynder intended to tear Spyro away from his episode or merely wanted to point it out, he let it rest regardless.

The stake wall had extended along the river banks, and the surrounding brush had been hacked down. Stumps littered the area between the wooden walls and the tree line. Thatched straw roofs peaked over the sharpened wall.

A knot formed in Spyro. The village was the same as ever, but what little had changed was more for survival than for thriving. A course that Spyro had hoped would have changed. They descended to the gate, and Spyro eyed the cheetah that rose from his post.

"Spyro! Cynder too!" Kerja called, leaning on his spear. His fur reflected the sun, giving his coat a white glean to it. His tunic was stark brown, still lacking any wear and tear from battle. "You two might as well bring a gift from how little you visit."

"I think our appearance is gift enough," Cynder said cheekily. She landed with her wings spread out more than necessary, putting one paw in front of the other. Spyro merely landed into a gait, stopping close by to Kerja. There wasn't a scratch on him, and Spyro wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Don't listen to her," Spyro said, nudging his head to Cynder. She scoffed, bounding up to him with a playful smirk. Kerja waved it off with a smile as Spyro scratched at his neck. "It has been a few weeks, huh? Did we miss anything?"

There was a brief frown from Kerja before it vanished behind another smile. Spyro wished he wasn't used to seeing expressions like it to notice.

"A skirmish here and there," Kerja shrugged. "My posts have me on the opposite side of the village to engage, so I don't have much to tell. From what I gather, it's nothing compared to what you all have been facing. My deepest condolences for your losses."

He set a fist to his chest as he bowed. It was stiff, reluctant, but there was no ill will. If anything, it was impatience. His hand tightened around his spear.

"Thank you, Kerja," Cynder said. Like Kerja, it was a mix of regret and frustration. Her eyes shifted away, only for a second, before focusing back on him. "It's actually why we're here. Is Chief Prowlus available?"

Kerja nodded, "I've been out here all day, and he hasn't passed through once. Probably still at his hut."

Kerja rested his spear against the wall and pushed against the gate with both hands. His feet dug into the dirt as the gate parted to reveal movement and noise.

"When you see him, tell him to switch me in for a patrol, would ya?"

"No promises," Cynder said with a smile. It didn't reach her eyes.

Passing through the gate, Spyro and Cynder were greeted to a bustle of activity. Cheetahs roamed the village, many with a spear or staff in hand. The familiar struts that formed the huts still stood firm, but had expanded and included beams to reinforce them. The knot in Spyro tightened.

Cynder had already moved further ahead, enthralled. Spyro headed to catch up, hearing music drift around the corner. Cheetahs greeted Spyro and Cynder as they passed. It brightened her mood, which in turn, brightened his. A group of little cheetahs moved as a unit, some straggling behind. One slid underneath Spyro. He froze as one other breezed past him with a hasty apology. Cynder giggled as another kid flipped over her. The group scampered out of sight.

"They're getting better," Spyro mused. Cynder grunted in agreement.

Three street performers played further back, one singing while the others played on wooden flutes. The small crowd gathered around them clapped and danced to their tune, laughing merrily. That, along with the engagement between a lot of the cheetahs, kept the place lively. It reminded Spyro of Warfang.

The hut with the prominent chimney at the top was their destination. Thick, black smoke billowed out before the wind snatched it and blew off. A guard stood rigid to the side. A nod from Spyro was enough for the guard to nod back and vanish within.

Cynder leaned in closer to Spyro, "You think Prowlus will-?"

A cheetah strolled out. His footsteps were quick and heavy. One of his pointed ears flicked, and he craned his neck while keeping his sharp eyes on them. The red cloak draped over his shoulders, along with the badge marked with a pawprint, wasn't needed for Spyro to recognize him.

"Prowlus," he said.

"Spyro, Cynder," he replied formally. It was too uptight for Spyro's liking. He crossed his arms. "What brings you to our village?"

"We were sent here on private business," Spyro said. "Could we speak with you inside your tent?"

Prowlus twitched and took a step back, "Very well. Follow me."

They did so with haste, entering the hut to find an open campfire burning at the center. The logs had been thoroughly burned, but the flames still flickered. It illuminated the cheetahs assembled around it. Meadow stood out immediately, easing a smile out, and Hunter sat beside him.

"It's good to see you alive and well," he greeted with a quick bow. Spyro and Cynder did the same, approaching the fire. None of the other cheetahs spoke to them. "What brings you here?"

Straight to the point and with little room to inquire why they were all gathered to begin with. Hunter did it on purpose, though Spyro didn't blame him. Prowlus walked along the side, hunched with hands held behind him.

"We need your help," Spyro said. Prowlus exhaled, either in exasperation or to suppress a chuckle. "You know about the recent attacks at Clawreaver and Scalemar."

"Yes, yes, attacks," Prowlus sneered. He stood at the head of the assembly, across from Spyro. The light of the flames cast a dreary shadow behind him. "Our scouts have seen as much."

"It isn't polite to interrupt a guest," Hunter said, his eyes narrowing. Prowlus turned away and plopped onto his pillow, deflating.

Spyro waited for another remark, and when none came, he continued, "The Pillari have stolen a great deal of our crystals, and we don't know why. Our plan is to gather more information by taking a prisoner, which is why we came to you."

"What is it you need from us?" Prowlus asked, indifferent. His attention was dead set on the fire, while the others gathered remained still. Hunter and Meadow glanced to each other.

Cynder growled. The way the conversation went, Spyro didn't see things going their way.

"Their hunting parties wander throughout Avalar," Spyro explained. "We don't know exactly when or where, but if you gather those details, we can ambush them and have our prisoner."

"For interrogation," Prowlus added.

It was an odd thing to point out. Spyro hesitated, eyes traveling across the hut. The cheetahs were statues, imposing and uncaring. Hunter leaned back a tad, raising a brow. Spyro had to ease a breath out.

"For interrogation," he said, nodding.

"Why not send a spy to their city?" a cheetah inquired. His head searched amongst the group.

"A dragon can't hide amongst them," Prowlus said with an idle wave. "Not to mention they're lousy at stealth."

"That wasn't underhanded," Cynder muttered, grinding her teeth.

Spyro coughed to cover her comment, "We also don't know anything about Pillasia."

"Stumbling through the unknown is never advisable," Prowlus said, bringing a hand to his chin. "So you intend for us to join in this war?"

"You sound like you've already made up your mind," Cynder sneered.

"Of course," Prowlus replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The Pillari clearly have their focus on the dragons, or perhaps more accurately, your crystals. If we enter, we're liable to an assault on our village. It was bad enough with Malefor."

Cynder stomped her paw, "All the more reason to help us. You know we wouldn't ask for help if we didn't need it."

"She's right," Meadow said. Prowlus twisted his face, but didn't lash out. "We have every right to trust the dragons. They did save the world, after all. Our world."

Prowlus shook his head, "We are still recovering from Malefor and his reign. Sparing our troops may seem trivial now, but it will escalate, and we don't want to be in the crossfires when it does. Not again."

History repeated itself. Spyro didn't think Prowlus could be even more stubborn. Turmoil swished around, washing up arguments before being swept back in. Cynder stepped to the side, leaving the other cheetahs to break out into whispers. Hunter wasn't fazed. He had an arrow, drawing in the dirt with the point. Through the dim light and his fur, Spyro was certain he had an expectant smile. Hunter lifted the arrow and held it out like an offering.

It clicked.

"So you're backing down?" Spyro asked. The whispers ceased, all eyes on him. "Cheetahs are experts in tracking, far better than dragons, but you choose not to utilize it?"

Prowlus scowled, "I already told you-"

"-that you wouldn't enter our war," Spyro finished, taking a step forward. Smoke wafted around his snout. "But we never mentioned that. We only need scouts for information. No attacks, no picking sides. And if your stealth is as good as your tracking, the Pillari will never know you were there."

The cheetahs looked to Prowlus, who furrowed his brow, wavering.

"I'll go out regardless," Hunter said, pushing himself to his feet. "Whatever you decide, Chief, I'll find a way."

"As will I," Meadow said, standing at his side. Hunter swelled with pride. "My debt has yet to be repaid."

Prowlus scratched his cheek with a claw. The pause lasted a few seconds, but time ticked away slowly for Spyro. Cynder sighed and moved to speak up. Spyro held up his paw, which got a groan out of her.

"Very well," Prowlus said, grimacing. Spyro thought he would take back those words. "Since Hunter and Meadow are so eager to volunteer, we can spare them for your request. They will find out what you need and nothing more."

A chorus of agreement swept through the other cheetahs. Hunter and Meadow bid their farewells and promises to remain anonymous before following Spyro and Cynder outside. The sunlight blinded Spyro before he blinked it away. They were back to the cozy, lively village. Chief Prowlus and his hut may as well have been another world.

"It was way too stuffy in there," Cynder said, heaving a heavy breath. She stretched her legs. "And I'm not talking about the smoke."

"Glad you caught on to his pride, Spyro," Hunter said. He had his bow out, adjusting the string.

"I'm glad you gave me a hint," Spyro said with a chuckle.

"Hint?" Cynder said, tilting her head. She hurried to Spyro and eyed Hunter up and down. "What hint?"

"One you missed," Hunter said, pulling out an arrow to point at her. Cynder pulled her head back, looking to Spyro for help. He smiled instead. "We should head out immediately. I'm sure the Guardians would prefer a swift response, yes?"

"Preferably," Cynder nodded.

Meadow nodded back, "We'll track them and send a falcon to Warfang as soon as we can."

"We really appreciate it," Spyro said. The two of them, together, eased the knot in Spyro. It was natural to put his faith in Hunter.

"You two are the only reason I still live," Meadow said. "I can only pray to the ancestors that I won't fail you."

"There is no one more capable of this than you two," Cynder said. She rested a paw on Meadow's arm. "We have no doubt in your abilities."

Meadow glowed, gripping his bow. Spyro had never seen him in action, but there was no doubt he could pull it off. Hunter motioned for Meadow to follow, and the two made their way to the gate. Their leave sparked action in Spyro, and he leapt forward.

"Hunter," he called. The two faced him. "It's good to see you again."

Realization dawned in Hunter's eyes, his mouth opening a little before he clamped it shut. That faint smile from Prowlus' hut returned, and he paced once before bowing.

"Stay safe, you two," he said before waving Meadow onward. They jogged through the crowds and out the gate.

The village was suddenly smaller. The walls didn't bring pleasant thoughts if Hunter and Meadow were caught. The Cheetah Village could never withstand the might of the Pillari. A part of Spyro wanted to think of a new plan, avoiding any pain to the village.

Cynder launched into the sky. It startled Spyro before he caught himself and did the same. The small village became even smaller. There was no way Hunter and Meadow would fail, but it gnawed at him all the same.

"I hope this village stays safe," Cynder said. Her gaze was heavy, staring off at the village. It reassured Spyro that he wasn't the only one lost in his worries, but swept them aside, facing forward.

"Me too," he admitted. Cynder turned her worried eyes to him. "Don't worry, Cynder. We have a plan."

Her frown deepened, and Spyro didn't know what to say to make it better. She shook it off, forcing a smile, but her expression was etched into his brain.

"Chief Prowlus was as happy as ever to see us," she said, lacing every word with sarcasm.

Spyro mulled on that, putting up a beaming smile.

"He's looking out for his people," Spyro rebutted. The luscious forest and river demanded his attention, and he welcomed the distraction. "He knows we're trouble."

"I guess," Cynder said, tilting her head back and forth. "But we proved our worth. It's a miracle we didn't spend the day chained to a pole again."

"The snake collars weren't all bad," Spyro said, flying further ahead. "It taught us to fight together."

Cynder smiled.

"And I got to be with you every second of the day."

Cynder hid her muzzle with a paw. Spyro could still see the blush against her scales.

"You…" she said, swallowing. "You never got sick of me?"

"Only a little."

"Hey!" Cynder shouted through laughter. He gave a big toothy grin before she shoved him into an air roll. He returned to her side, bumping into her.

"You know I love you," he said. His tone was sincere, and his heart hammered against his chest.

"I know," she said, closing her eyes. Her bliss eased Spyro, reassuring him.

"And for the record," he said, catching her curious cyan gaze, "that snake collar really brought out your eyes."

She giggled playfully and gave him a small nudge, filling his heart with peace. Everything would work out as long as she was by his side.

Thank you for all of your support! This story has been such a joy to write. I am eager to hear all of your feedback both positive and negative.

Bless,

Joshua