This story is not likely to mean much to you unless you read my other fic The Impossible Sky first. It's a long one, but if you like human fics and/or slice of life then go take a look. Spoilers for that story will be present (including character death spoilers, you have been warned), starting now:
This is an AU of TIS where the human makes a different decision, and some things about the situation may be a little different than I originally indicated.
More notes on TIS-related stuff at the end.
Purple. It was hard to miss.
The sight of it streaking through the air above stopped her in her tracks, and she paid dearly for it as the monster's cleaver tore through her chest. Blood soaked her dark robes as she dropped, the grublin immediately looming over her with its fleshy plant arms raised.
It wasn't going to end like this, not after everything she'd done to get this far. But as she raised her sword defensively, the creature jerked once, twice, three times, then collapsed to the ground beside her, a row of arrows sticking out of its back.
"Miss!"
The distant call came from a higher bastion, but the girl ignored it, frantic eyes scanning the sky. She prayed that she had somehow been mistaken, a dragon's blue scales mixed up with violet or a sunlit cloud catching the light wrong.
But she caught sight of them just as they rounded the top of a tall golden building. Purple. Black. And, almost invisible in the sky, the tiniest speck of gold.
Three heroes. Three harbingers.
The girl slumped, her sword dropping out of her shaking hands. And then she fell onto her back in the middle of the empty courtyard littered with grublin corpses.
She'd known it the moment the bells tolled out the herald of a siege, the moment the Guardians went racing off and left her under the command of Warfang's soldiers. It was summer, three years later. It was around the right time.
But still, she had hoped. Another season. Another month. Another week, even. Just a little bit longer, a little more time...
"Miss!" She opened her eyes to find the kindly dark ones of her dear mole friend Addison, now twisted wide in panic as he hovered over her. "Are you alright?!"
With effort she managed to pull herself up, probing at the bloody hole in her robes. She'd liked this outfit. But at least she wasn't dead. "I'm fine. Where next?"
Addison lifted his gaze above the tall towers and empty, evacuated buildings. "Fire in Warfang North. I'll get the others."
North, right towards where the party of heroes had gone. Of course there was a fire there. It was all lining up, every beat of the story playing out perfectly.
Dragging herself to her feet and retrieving her discarded sword, she ignored Addison's cries of protest and took off that direction. With every pounding footstep, she was trying not to think.
Spyro was here. The great siege of Warfang underway. And she knew what that meant.
In less than one day, Ignitus would be dead.
When the Golem split the earth in two, there was little she could do to help. Clear out the grublins, usher on the evacuation – though with the walls surrounded, they could really only shuffle the panicked crowds around – and wait for it all to end.
From the opposite side of Warfang, she watched the great fiery beast as it clambered up the highest tower, the distant blurs of purple and black circling it. And she watched as it fell, plummeting to the ground and emitting a shockwave that made even the walls around them shiver. The worst was over, for now.
The girl lifted her gaze to the top of the tower that was miraculously still standing. Right now they were up there, Spyro's party and the Guardians, discussing their next move against Malefor. Not knowing yet that the world was soon to end.
With the greatest threat slain before their eyes, the crowd of evacuees behind her began to settle down. She could feel their unsure stares on the back of her head, the strange girl not mole, not cheetah, certainly not dragon.
Once her stay in Warfang was made permanent, it had been decided that her ruse as a cheetah beneath the cloak could not continue indefinitely. Frankly, she was surprised it lasted as long as it did.
But though she had been accepted after many, many long and painful interrogations from the council, she knew that most people still felt uneasy about her. Being the Guardians' charge spared her any overt harassment, but the looks she got were less than comfortable.
She wondered how Serena, Cedric, and Strider would react when they someday returned... But right now that was the last thing on her mind.
The presence suddenly behind her made her jump, but turning around she found only Addison. He couldn't reach her shoulder, so he patted a paw on her elbow, following her gaze up to the tower.
"Your friends will be alright," he reassured, reading the anxiety written clearly on her face.
In truth, he didn't have the first idea. They'd explained the other world bit, not so much that she already knew the story and could essentially see the future.
He was thinking that she was worried about the Guardians after that display from the Golem, that she was concerned about where the war would go now with the grand return of the heroes.
In truth, she already knew. The world would live on, and they would make it through. All except one.
She was going to change it. She didn't care what happened after; she didn't care what effect it had on this world. She wouldn't let him go. She couldn't let him die.
Why had she stayed here in this world against everything she'd been fighting for? It had been for Tyren. For her friends. For the Guardians. And for Ignitus.
Because her family was here, and he was part of it. When she tried to imagine going on in a world without him, she found nothing but the fog of tears in her eyes.
Maybe it was selfish. But she just couldn't do it.
Someone tapped her shoulder as she mindlessly bandaged a passed-out mole's wounds, causing her to shriek and drop the roll of gauze. Luckily the entire infirmary was packed with people, doctors and volunteers like her rushing between the rows of beds laid out on the floor, so no one noticed it over the racket.
As she whipped around she found two pale blue eyes right in her face, and scrambling back realized it was Cyril. "How did you know I was here?"
"Well, it's what you were up to last time," he answered flatly.
The reminder stilled her. She didn't want to think about that. Everything she'd lost, and was soon to lose again.
But if he noticed the look on her face, he didn't comment. Turning tail, he tramped off towards the exit, stepping over the unconscious bodies of patients as he went. "Let's go. I need a bloody nap."
Her shorter strides made such a feat impossible, so she was forced to scurry between the lines of bedding to catch up with him. Though anxiety left the words bubbling in her chest, she was too worried to let them sit there. "Is Ignitus okay?"
A part of her was afraid that even her presence in this world had messed everything up. That her influence on the Guardians would cause him to die before he even made it far enough to sacrifice himself, that coming here really had been a mistake.
But Cyril just stopped, shooting a weird glance her way. "Ancestors, no love for the rest of us..."
It occurred to her that that was likely an odd question out of nowhere. "I... Sorry, I just thought I saw him get hurt..."
The ice Guardian's expression softened as he stepped through the wide doorway. "Not a scratch on him," he answered shortly, pushing past a stream of dragons and moles rushing to get in. They both took a moment to breathe in the night air. It was suffocating in there.
After a moment, Cyril ambled out onto the paved moonlit streets, his charge in close tow. "It's Terrador you should worry about. He's in pretty bad shape."
The girl cringed, vaguely remembering the direct hit from the Golem smashing Terrador straight through a building. She'd forgotten all about that one.
And looking over Cyril as they passed beneath a street lantern, he too was nowhere near in pristine a state as usual. His ice-blue scales were scuffed, a new limp in his back leg and the scarred remnants of heavy wounds likely healed over by spirit gems and not much else.
"Is everyone okay?" she asked softly. She was being selfish, fixating on Ignitus so. They'd all been hurt in this battle. They'd all get hurt more before the end...
Cyril scoffed, but she could tell her transgression had been forgiven. "No worse off than you." She looked down at the bandage sticking out beneath the tear in her bloody robes. She'd forgotten the sting of it.
Addison had to chase her down to get her to sit still long enough for even this hasty treatment...
"Terrador will be back in the fight by tomorrow," Cyril continued, stepping over one of the many bits of debris this siege had left littered on the streets. "But Tyren..."
The girl's head shot up immediately. She'd been so worried about the Guardians that the little dragon hadn't even crossed her mind. "Tyren?" She ran up next to him, seizing his shoulder. "Is he okay?!"
Cyril gently pushed her off. Even he understood her paranoia. "Tyren is fine, young one, just shaken. He's in a panic over you. So try to put on a brave face."
A shuddering breath of relief escaped her. The last thing she could bear was to lose them both... "Okay."
There would be time to worry about Ignitus later. Right now her little brother needed her.
She didn't manage to make it through the front door before Tyren crashed into her, throwing her to the ground. For a seven-year-old dragon, he was the size of a Rottweiler and could hit like a rugby player.
"Tyren – " The girl tried to struggle free out of instinct more than anything, but the sound of his sobbing instantly killed any fight in her.
It was hard to make out much of what he was saying with his face buried in her clothes. " – told you not to go – you promised you wouldn't leave – you promised – "
Cyril took one look at this scene and quickly stepped into the house, shutting the door tight behind him.
Right now she didn't care what Cyril thought. "Tyren," she soothed, trying to rub his back but struggling as it shuddered with violent sobs. "I'm here. I'm right here."
It didn't seem like he was listening even as she pulled him tight to her chest, cradling him in her arms as best she could with all the limbs and spikes. But he didn't fight it at all. She couldn't hold him tight enough.
His voice was a small, choked sound. "You promised..."
The girl felt her own tears spring up into her eyes. She'd left him alone on a day like this, a day just like the one where his brother had died. Not just left him, but walked straight into the fight. And nearly gotten herself killed.
She couldn't have just sat back and watched as this battle of history happened. But maybe that had been selfish too.
"That's right," she said, as warmly as she could muster. "I promised. And I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."
Finally that promise seemed to calm him. He went still in her arms, the sobs wracking his body slowly fading and the relentless wave of tears eventually trickling out. But he didn't let go. And she wasn't going to either.
Holding him like this, she knew that this was why she had stayed. Because she couldn't leave Tyren with another broken promise.
And it steeled her resolve. She would not let a single piece of her family die.
And yet, upon seeing him, all the resolution was instantly swept away.
Tyren, wiping his eyes, was quick to scurry up the stairs they moment they walked into the darkened living room. She watched his tiny shadow bolting up the marble steps until it disappeared down the hall.
A few candles had been lit around the room, but they did little to touch the darkness. Still, she could see Ignitus' brow furrow as his head lifted from whatever correspondence was scattered across the table he sat before. "Were you injured?"
Her hands found the bandage; again she'd forgotten that it was even there. But she was definitely going to feel it in the morning.
"Not badly." The girl sheepishly scratched at the back of her head. "You were always on me about getting distracted..."
The smile she managed was forced, and it quickly dropped. "Where's Spyro?"
By now, the whispers of the purple dragon's return had rushed between the doctors and patients. If the Golem hadn't been sign enough, that had confirmed it for sure. The story was on track.
"The council has them set up somewhere..." He sighed heavily, the weight of everything he'd seen that day clearly hanging over him. "First thing tomorrow, we're setting off underground... To try to stop this before it's too late."
So soon... Likely they'd received their warning about the Destroyer as well, then. It was all happening so quickly...
Standing there, thinking of that and what came after, a thousand words surged up and died in her throat. She had to tell him not to go, not to sacrifice himself, to think of another way before it was too late. Because she couldn't lose him. Because he mattered to her more than damn well anything in this world besides maybe Tyren. Because...
In the kitchen just beyond the open doorway to her right, someone, probably Cyril, banged some pots or something together and slammed a cupboard door closed.
Jumping, the girl quickly launched into a stuttered speech. "Well, uh, you look busy, so, I – I'm off to bed! Goodnight!" And she flew up the stairs before she could even catch the confused look he shot after her.
In the long hall at the top of the stairs, she slowed and then fell still. A window at the far end, near the opposite doors to her and Tyren's rooms, bathed her in a long rectangle of moonlight. And then a cloud passed over the moons, leaving her stranded in darkness.
This would be her last chance to speak to him. Tomorrow morning, he would leave her behind. He would march bravely on to his death, and he would never come back.
But all she could do was stand there. She couldn't even turn around.
If she slept, it was such a fitful rest that she hardly even knew it. Tyren, curled up against her beneath the covers, thrashed and squirmed in nightmares. A gentle touch on his head would soothe him, but it kept jarring her awake.
It didn't matter. It's not like she was able to wind down anyway.
Sitting up in bed, she scooted out from under the covers as carefully as she could. But Tyren's face was blank in deep sleep, and he didn't stir as she softly padded out of her room.
Out in the hall again, each darkened doorway of the Guardians' rooms loomed before her. Standing there quietly holding her breath, she could hear their slow breathing.
Ignitus' room was nearest to the stairs. One step, another. The long carpet shifted beneath her feet, so quiet not even a dragon's keener hearing could pick up on it. Another few steps and she was standing on bare wood just before the threshold of his doorway.
There were few doors in dragon houses, so if she took another step, she could peer in on his sleeping form. Knowing that left her rooted where she was.
She could wake him, hope that wasn't the decision that doomed the fate of the world. He wouldn't be mad.
But when she took that final step forward, she didn't stop. She kept going, down the stairs, through the grand central room, out the glass door and into the garden.
The night air hit her hard, a wall of heat. Winter was long gone now. She missed Auren's snow.
But she liked spring and summer too. Watching the world come back to life, the flowers spring up from the dirt. It was Terrador who often tended to the garden, as odd as the stoic veteran performing such simple, idyllic hobbies seemed to her.
Still, his work had paid off. Their backyard, pressed directly up against the southern wall, wasn't grand in size. But he'd made it so with the lush array of plant life, the vines that crept up the house and the beds of flowers and bushes packed wherever they could fit.
Any other time, standing in the glorious sheen of moonlight cascading down from star-rich, alien heavens, she would have loved to be here. It was a beautiful night. "Beautiful" didn't really do it justice to describe it.
Sometimes, on those nights where sleeping seemed far less important than speaking to a dear friend, she would sit out here and talk with Ignitus. One of many treasured memories in this world.
She couldn't hardly remember what they spoke about all those times. Before, it hadn't mattered. It had never been so important until that moment for her to remember. But she just couldn't.
Stepping out into the grass, ignoring the sting of rocks and branches stabbing her feet, she made her way into the empty heart of a garden bed and sunk to her knees in the dirt.
She knew why, why she couldn't face him, why she couldn't make her impossible request. Because she already knew what he would say.
The quiet sliding of the glass door drew her out of her thoughts. She had to wonder who it might be. It could have been any of them. Any one of them would have followed her out here.
But it was Ignitus' soft voice that called across the garden. "You should try to rest."
He always said that. And he always sat with her once it was clear she wasn't going to listen. There had been plenty of sleepless nights since that horrible day not more than half a year ago. And with all he's been through, he's a bit of an insomniac himself.
Usually she'd brush him off with a joke, or on more somber nights, simply a dispirited look that said more than enough. But now she couldn't say anything. She could only stare down at the dirt.
But he seemed to understand her silence. "I'm struggling to sleep as well, with all of tomorrow looming on the horizon..."
Grass crunched closer and closer until she could feel the warmth of his aura stop just out of arm's reach. "I assume you've heard, or you know already, of what has happened tonight. The resurrection of the Destroyer..."
He paused, and even his voice wavered. "You've assured us that all will be well in the end, but in the face of this..."
He's feeling apprehensive, and she knows she should try to reassure him, tell him that no matter how bad it seems to get, Spyro and Cynder will pull through. She knows that he has far too much on his mind to deal with yet another person's stress.
She knows he knows that the end is coming.
But she can't help it. She can't just sit here and watch him walk away forever without at least trying to stop it.
"Don't..." The choked whimper that escaped her barely sounded like herself, and she had to swallow it down with a shudder as she turned to him. "Don't go."
The tears were rolling down her face before she realized, before she could think to stop them. It wasn't fair. Losing someone in this world who meant more than anything to her – then being forced to choose to leave her sister behind forever – wasn't that enough?
Why did it have to be him too? The first person who came to accept her in this world, the one who even now understood her more than anyone left...
She loved the Guardians. She loved Tyren. She loved her friends. And she had loved Auren so much that the memory of it was, even now, more than she could bear.
But none of them were Ignitus. None of them were enough. Not if he was gone.
He was standing there not far from her, giving her a look far too filled with understanding. Even when she knew he wasn't reading her mind, he still always seemed to know what she was thinking. "It's almost time, isn't it?"
The girl couldn't answer, but that's answer enough. She lowered her tearful gaze to the barren earth.
Ignitus sighed heavily. She couldn't imagine what he must be feeling, knowing that his life is ending. In the dividing line between one day and the next, without any warning, everything had changed.
Yesterday... It was just another day, so similar to all the others that she couldn't hardly remember the little details.
She and Tyren had been up all night fiddling with one of his inventions, so they were late to breakfast. Cyril had scolded them until Ignitus gently said that there was no harm in it.
She'd spent a large portion of the day outside with Tyren, so she wasn't sure what Ignitus had been doing in that time. Not likely much at all; the war had lulled lately, leaving the Guardians little work. But they'd spent the evening after dinner reading together in the library until it was time for bed.
Only twenty hours ago, a day of simple nothings. And now this. Now the knowledge that they would never come again.
What was worse, to face one's death knowing it was inevitable? Or to be left on the sidelines to watch as it happened, unable to change it, to have to keep going once it was over?
With that heavy breath came a voice full of regret, and yet one of conviction. "I will go. Spyro needs me."
There's a sting in that. A choice he's making, and he's not choosing her. "The Guardians need you. Tyren needs you." And with a voice nearly breaking she added, "I need you."
It wasn't fair to him to make him pick between those he cared about, between doing his part in saving the world and sparing her the pain of loss. But she could afford to be a little selfish when the alternative was that he died.
"I don't want to stay in this world without you..." Her voice cracked again on a truth she hadn't told anyone. "I didn't think I wanted to stay without Auren. I was so ready to turn my back on everything here. But I made this choice because I couldn't bear to leave this behind..."
She lifted her arms as if encompassing everything: Warfang, their home, this moment in the garden with him still here. "All of it. These days with you, and Tyren, and the others..." Reaching up, she roughly wiped the damp on her cheek away. "I just wanted them to go on forever."
Behind her, he hesitated, shifting. "You knew this would happen." It's not an accusing statement, merely an observation.
But he's right. She knew. As spring bloomed and died, as summer came and with it the third year of Spyro's absence, there wasn't a day it didn't cross her mind.
In a way, it had been easier to accept when she'd been so intent on going home and getting there as quick as possible. Because it wouldn't have come to this until she was gone. Ignitus had been around for her short time in this world, and that was all that had mattered.
But when Volteer found the White Isle, offered a chance to see the Chronicler and maybe find a way home, she'd turned him down. For good.
Because Tyren needed a person who would stay. Because she didn't want her friends to return someday to learn that she was gone forever. Because Tyren and the Guardians were more a family to her than anyone else ever had been.
Because for the first time in her life, she was happy.
And that was all she wanted. For those simple, pleasant days to go on and on. To walk downstairs in the morning and see six seats at the table, to always be able to find Ignitus in the library when she needed someone to talk to. To just continue as they were. Wasn't that such a small thing to ask?
But it wasn't only that. It was the fact that Spyro and the world would need Ignitus to be there tomorrow. It was that his sacrifice was necessary to get them to Malefor, maybe even to give them the courage or at least the desperation to face him.
It was the secret even Ignitus didn't know, what would happen to him after. A new era would need a new Chronicler.
There had to be another way. If they left earlier, skipped the dam and went straight to Malefor, found a different path around. Something, anything. The Chronicler could wait, if she could just have a little more time.
But he wouldn't be convinced. He wasn't willing to risk it. And there was nothing she could do about that.
So she tipped her head up to the starry sky, as if beseeching the gods or the spirits more than Ignitus. "Can't I change this one thing...?"
Again he sighed, but his words were empty of regret. "If this is my fate, then so be it."
Fate. Anger welled up in her, at who or what she didn't know, but she found herself clenching her fists in the dirt. "Who cares about fate?" Her low voice is teeming with outrage, and it's enough to make him draw back. "How can you just accept that?"
In her old world, she had died. Trapped in a car crash, vaporized in an explosion. Hardly the first of her kind.
And that was supposed to be it. When people die, they stay dead, and time keeps ticking forward. Heaven or not, they don't get their body back, and they certainly don't wake up in a video game world just because they didn't want to die yet.
Yet somehow, here she was.
Had her last moments, her thoughts of Lily, her conviction to survive, her defiance in the face of death – had that been what had brought her here?
If she can refuse to die, why can't he? If she's willing to change the world, change the story, rewrite time just to stay alive, why won't he do the same?
In a moment she flashed to her feet, whirling around to face him with angry tears overflowing again. But though her hands were shaking, her voice was steady. "The Chronicler told Spyro that Cynder's fate was to be corrupted again. He said that saving her would be impossible, because fate said so, and there was nothing even he could do. But Spyro..."
Ignitus' eyes were wide at this revelation, but by his expression, he already knew what she was going to say next. "Spyro went after her anyway! Because laying down and accepting that wasn't good enough for him!"
Her shaking hands curled into raised fists, a show of defiance however small. "So change it! You don't have to choose to die just because that's your fate!"
More than anything, she was praying that this speech, her last-ditch effort to change his mind, would be what got to him. But her clenched hands loosened as he only looked back at her with the same calm expression as always.
But what she just told him had not left him untouched, and that serenity is cracking. Briefly he smiled, lifting his head to the endless inky black above. "Not all of us have the courage to defy fate."
The girl slumped. Her defiance meant nothing. All the determination in the world couldn't change his mind.
Lowering his gaze, he stretched his wing out to beckon her. Numbly, she followed him back inside.
Tomorrow, he would go. And there was nothing she could do to stop him.
But he doesn't send her to bed like she's expecting him to. Instead, he stopped there in the darkened living room lit only by the starlight shining faintly through the glass door. Turning to one of the wooden cupboards, he began to carefully rifle through it.
Confused, she could only stand in the middle of the room, watching as he pulled out a familiar box. It's ornate, covered in intricate carvings, but unassuming.
She recognized it. She'd used it before to talk to Auren, to try to at least. When the snow stopped falling, it didn't seem like he was listening anymore. But she still tries.
With unusual care even for him, he placed it on the short table. As he gestured again, she tentatively walked over and sat down.
As she settled down beside him, he was busy arranging the box, lighting the thin candlestick with a careful breath of fire. The tiny glow did nothing more than throw a little light on their faces, but it was a warm, comforting light.
Still, his expression as she peered curiously up at him was unreadable. What did this mean? Why the spirit-box?
For a moment he paused as if mulling carefully over his words. And then, with a steady voice unwavering in the face of its coming end, he spoke. "When a dragon dies, they do not truly leave this world."
Her eyes widened; her breath caught in her throat. "Ignitus..."
Her voice was so tiny he must not hear it. "Their spirit lives on, binding itself with nature, offering hope for the future..."
Gently he lifted his wing, draping it around her shoulder and pulling her into him. Into the fiery aura emanating from his core of life, the comforting warmth of his presence that she would never feel again.
Tears spring to her eyes, but they don't break. She can't bring herself to cry anymore. This is the end.
His voice ran through her as he spoke, and though she couldn't see his face she could imagine the softness of it, the kind warmth in his eyes. "If you keep me in your heart, then I will never leave you."
Lifting a paw, he placed it on the box. She knew what he was telling her, that she can reach him this way when he doesn't make it back. That he can watch over them from somewhere far beyond.
But he doesn't know yet that this won't be enough. When he leaves them tomorrow, he won't exactly be dead. He'll just be gone.
So the Guardians went, leaving her behind to look after Warfang and Tyren. As she drew them all in for a last goodbye, she held in her tears and watched them take to the air.
Eventually Addison came for her. A battle with the Destroyer was no place for a sixteen-year-old who couldn't help much from the ground anyhow, but in the aftermath of the most devastating siege yet, the guards could use all the hands they could get.
This time Tyren wouldn't let her go alone, but she didn't want to leave him in that empty house anyway. Not today.
The grublins were long cleaned up, so there was no danger. Just rebuilding and rescue efforts, calming citizens. The little dragon was getting big fast, too big to perch on her shoulder now, but he could stay by her side.
And as evening fell, the evacuation orders came. The end was inevitable, the Destroyer unstoppable, but hiding in the tunnels beneath Warfang might give them the slightest hope of survival.
Herding hordes of panicked people around was no easy ordeal, but they managed to get most of Warfang's population underground in record time. Only the guards were left aboveground, and after a last sweep of the districts, it would be their turn.
The city, usually bright and lively in the early hours of the night, was for once silent. Every window lay dark, the ever-present sound of distant chatter faded to nothing. Even the insects had no songs left.
Occasionally a guard would shout in the distance, an answering call soon after. Up on the walls, a brief hurried torchlight sparked against the darkening sky. But that was all.
Walking through the empty city, the only sound her own footsteps and Tyren's on the pavement, left her with an unsettling feeling. Like the world really had ended and they were all that was left.
With no more work to distract herself with and in the eerie silence of Warfang's vestige, dread settled firmly over her heart. The worst was past; she had tried to convince Ignitus to stay, and she had failed. That was that. By now, he might even be gone...
Yet she kept feeling like there was something she had to do, something she could do. Even though she knew there was nothing left now but to wait.
Wait and see if her meddling with Ignitus and the Guardians was what caused this world's undoing...
Though she'd cried far too much already, she couldn't help it as it welled up in her again. Helplessness. That was what she most hated. Being powerless to protect those she cared about... How many times would she have to live through this?
Something touched her hand and she jumped, nearly jerking it away. Tyren had sat down to slip a paw into her palm, his gaze lifting to hers. The steady calmness of it reminded her of Auren.
"We'll be okay." He dropped it, brushing briefly against her as he continued bravely on ahead. "Promise."
Guilt overwhelmed her, but she composed herself and continued on by his side. She'd always put on a brave face for Tyren, but this past day it had completely cracked. And here she was being comforted by the person she should have been shielding...
He had no idea what was coming, that their family had already been fractured, nor did the other Guardians. The secret she'd unwittingly spilled was between her and Ignitus.
But his small words of comfort were some solace. Tyren had been incredibly brave, and not only for a little kid. He hadn't just lost someone. He'd lost his entire world.
Nothing would ever be the same without Ignitus. But eventually, things would return to some semblance of normalcy, as normal as it could get in this world. Life would continue, with a hole in it that could never be replaced perhaps, but it would go on.
For Tyren, everything had changed. He'd been plunged into a new world almost as much as she had when she'd first woken up outside the Temple. And yet he wasn't afraid.
There would be time to grieve yet. For now she had to be brave, like him.
The girl had been to the underground city once before. In the quiet that stretched on to infinity, the ancient undisturbed relics of dragonkind, she had found a sort of pleasant peace.
This was nothing like that. These caves had been transformed, turned to a mess of writhing bodies and hysteria. She had to keep a firm grip on Tyren's horn just to stop him from being swept away. She couldn't get a breath in; the horde had sucked away the air.
There wasn't enough light down here. The occasional guard held a lantern on a stick, poised above the crowd as if desperate to get away from them. Her eyes clung to those lights, but it wasn't enough. She would drown down here.
The underground air, what little she could desperately suck in, felt different and wrong. There was no abyss to fall into this far down, but she felt like she was falling anyway.
Pushing through the crowd, a final shove managed to net them a spot by the wall that wasn't quite as gorged with people. At least she could rest her legs without being stepped on.
"Here. Sit down." Her voice was little more than a whisper above the clamour.
Tyren's front was breaking, and he looked drained. He collapsed beside her without complaint, and shuffling beneath her arm, they began their long wait.
Occasionally Terrador's rumbling voice would rise above the racket down another tunnel. It was some comfort. She wanted to go to the Guardians, but she had no energy to be a leader right now. In their last few hours, she just wanted to sit here with Tyren.
Time rolled by, her mind wandering aimlessly from one worry to another. But all she could seem to think of was her friends. Serena had returned to Avalar where they'd surely received warning, so she might be somewhere safe.
But who knew where Cedric and Strider were, if they even knew what was coming...
These thoughts were exhausting, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. With her head tipped back against the rough stone wall, she dozed into feverish dreams that made time stretch on.
She jolted awake, flying straight up and startling Tyren who was laying by her feet. Nothing had changed. The roar of the crowd had faded somewhat as people attempted to settle down and sleep on the hard stone floor, though the din was still unbearable.
But something was different. Something was wrong. A few dragons had their heads pricked up too.
And then it started. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The earth trembled. And all of a sudden, the dark tunnels were glowing.
"Tyren..." The child looked scared, and she opened her arms. "C'mere."
Not needing any more, he hopped right into them, curling up and burying his face into her robe. There was only time to wrap her arms around him, press her hand to the back of his head. And then the world began to rend.
In this face of it, the core of the planet itself trembling, the searing heat that surged too quick towards them, the ripping and tearing of the earth that threatened to pull her body apart with it, she knew then that it wouldn't have been enough.
There was nowhere far enough underground to save anyone. This really was the end. In the heart of the world, Spyro and Cynder would have been the last two alive. They would have held each other and died, their souls shattered into stardust.
But it stopped.
The caverns fell ominously still, but her eyes were squeezed shut too hard to open them. She could feel Tyren in her arms, holding him so tightly that they had gone numb, the rest of her body soon with them. Perhaps this was it. This was eternity.
But Tyren shifted, and she knew she was alive. Tentatively, her eyes cracked open. The pressing lights were gone, the tremors ended. All citizens of Warfang stood with their heads raised instinctively to the surface.
They began to walk.
She could have just sat there in awe, watching the previously clamorous citizens all walking neatly and quietly down the caverns, but Tyren was not immune to the call. She was forced to scramble up after him as he stepped into the crowd without a word. He didn't acknowledge her as she grabbed his wing like she was holding a little sibling's hand.
Most of them were headed back to Warfang, down the path they had come. But she and Tyren caught sight of a triad of familiar scales splitting off from the rest, and they followed after.
The girl's legs were numb by the time she saw real moonlight. The Guardians had already stepped outside, and they stood there quietly at the edge of a cliff.
Even the moonlight blinded her as she passed from beneath the cavernous darkness. When her vision cleared, her eyes swept past the Guardians and over the landscape; the broken remnants of the dam, the abyss now a rushing river of water. The dead lands beyond, the volcano a dark, silent silhouette on the horizon.
No one spoke. And as her eyes followed theirs upward, their presence melted away as she realized she was staring at the making of history. At the starry outline of a constellation that, for all her nights spent staring dreamily into the heavens, she had never seen before this moment.
The world fell quiet. The story had played out as it was meant to; the people of the Dragon Realms were safe. On a grand scale, her influence had changed nothing. She knew her actions had done no harm.
And she knew Ignitus was gone.
When the misfits left her, when Auren died, she often found herself returning to the wall. The familiar place that overflowed with happy memories, as if their mere presence had changed it forever...
Sometimes it hurt how far out of reach those memories were, but being there was a comfort too.
She and Ignitus had nowhere like that. The balcony of the Temple was now in pieces scattered across the wilderness. The library wasn't just their place; she had too many memories with the others there. The garden came to mind, but it was too close to home, and it just didn't seem right.
When she felt like this, she went to the wall. So that was where she was now, that familiar spot where the lower guard wall connected and one could just hoist themselves up. There she sat like she had so many other times, her legs dangling over the edge and her back to the city.
This had certainly not been a place for Ignitus. She wasn't sure if he'd even known about it. But it was the only place she had.
Eventually, Spyro and Cynder had returned, bearing news she already knew. That was a few days ago now. It felt like longer. It felt like this would never end.
She'd never seen the Guardians like this. Cyril was aimless, Terrador somehow more closed off than usual, and Volteer for once had nothing to say. It was hard to imagine they would ever really recover.
Tyren hadn't known Ignitus for that long, but he'd quickly adapted to the Guardians' little family. He wasn't the first child they'd "adopted", after all. And he was taking it hard.
Yet another person lost to him thanks to this damn war... The girl could only be glad that she hadn't been among them. More than ever, the choice she'd made felt right.
She knew she should be with him right now. If he woke up from another night terror and she wasn't there, the whole house was going to hear about it.
But she just needed to get away. She couldn't stay in that house that was missing someone a single second more.
Accepting Ignitus' choice back then had been far easier than trying to live with it now. Staying in the house they'd once lived in together, trying to return to some semblance of a normal routine now that the war was over for good, it felt so wrong.
Because his seat at the table was empty. He was never reading in the library, never in his room. And when she went into the garden at night to cry, no one followed her anymore.
And that was even harder to bear than she ever could have imagined.
Something beat the air behind her, a rush of wind over her shoulder. Instinctively she reached for her sword, but something stopped her with her hand hovering in the air. For some reason, she thought of Auren. She thought of all the times they were alone up here on the wall.
Indeed, a dragon landed on the stone behind her, their steps too light to belong to an adult. It couldn't be him, it was impossible, and yet she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, afraid to look. A part of her had never stopped hoping.
"Um... Hey." The voice wasn't Auren's, yet it sounded that age, and oddly familiar too.
So she turned. And her vision was immediately filled with vibrant purple scales.
"U-um!" As she struggled to even process this, she ended up flailing quite unregally back, scrambling away from the edge and scooting along the stone because he was way too close.
Her brain was going haywire, trying to decide between grabbing her shortsword – as if drawing a glorified knife on the purple dragon was a good idea – pulling up her hood, and just flat-out running away.
She did none of these. Instead she just sat there sprawled out on the stone, staring in shock.
Spyro wasn't quite as startled as her, likely used to that kind of dumbfounded reaction, but he took a step back. "Sorry for scaring you!"
While this didn't calm her, she at least managed to sit up and straighten herself, and he tentatively reclaimed that step. "You're... Ever, right?"
Hearing that name come out of his mouth somehow rattled her even more. "You know who I am?"
Now fairly sure that the flighty girl wasn't going to lose her mind at the sight of him, the purple dragon sat down carefully on the stone, though he kept his distance this time. "The Guardians talked about you."
"They... did?" Somehow she couldn't imagine the mention of her slipping in between talks about the end of the world and the final battle against Malefor.
Spyro nodded and fell silent, openly examining her, so she took the opportunity to get him back.
She'd never seen a purple dragon in person before, but besides the eye-catching scales, he wasn't really all that special. He was just about Auren or Strider's size. With both of them sitting there facing each other, he stood a little taller than her.
It didn't take much scrutiny to see Ignitus showing through his golden chestplate, his curved-back horns, even the familiar warmth in his eyes. She had to tear her own away, scooting back over to the edge of the wall again.
Spyro didn't seem to think much of her appearance. Growing up around dragonflies, meeting moles and llamas and all sorts of other creatures right after leaving home, he was probably more used to it than most.
He started to move towards the edge to sit near her, but her voice stopped him. Not cold, but hardly kind. "Why are you here?"
She didn't blame him, though it would have been easy to. Easy to think, if only he'd never come back, if only she could have kept Ignitus forever. If only he hadn't taken him away. But that wasn't fair to Spyro.
Still. It was hard to look at him.
If he noticed the tone of her voice, he didn't let it deter him. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I would fly around the city before I have to leave it." He paused, and she could feel his gaze fall on her, probing for something she couldn't give. "I recognized you, and I thought..."
"You thought what?" She didn't mean to be so short, but she wasn't exactly prepared to meet Spyro the freaking dragon today.
It was likely to happen eventually, her being aligned with the Guardians, she was well aware of that. Meeting him, Sparx, and Cynder had been a day she'd looked forward to. But long from now, once the sting of this had faded.
It was like he had his mentor's mind-reading powers, for his voice was gentle as he asked, "Ignitus... You were close to him too, weren't you?"
The girl stiffened, the hands clenched around her arms tightening to a vise. If she had a response to that, it couldn't leave her closed throat.
"He talked about you," he continued quickly, as if he'd realized he upset her. "The way he did, it sounded just like when he talked about me or Cynder."
The girl had to swallow her tears, but any anger she had for Spyro dissipated. All she could see in those violet eyes was sadness, a longing for something the both of them had lost.
He was hurting too, as much as if not more than her. He'd also lost someone important to him. And he was looking for empathy in one of the only other people who could understand.
"We were close," she confirmed. And though talking about it hurt so much, it was time. "He was the first person to accept me in this world. Even if he didn't always understand, he always listened."
Spyro lit up at this connection. "It was like that for me too. When I didn't even know I was a dragon... When I had no idea if I could save this world at all..."
He trailed off, but it was easy to finish that sentence. "He was always there."
Spyro smiled, and she couldn't help smiling back. Even when Ignitus was gone, there was still a kindred spirit in the flames he left behind.
It felt strangely easy to talk to Spyro. It occurred to her that it should have been strange, having someone not part of the misfits in their sacred place. But it didn't feel wrong with him.
She quickly figured out why. Spyro looked out dreamily over Warfang, their vantage point on the wall making the candlelit beacons in each window shimmer beautifully in the night. "I wanted to see the city when it was peaceful like this..."
His smile as he turned to her was brimming with sincerity, the natural kindness that had turned so many to his side. "Don't you think it's worth it?"
The girl almost laughed to herself. No wonder. You're a misfit more than anyone.
Speaking to him, she started to understand how that little kid from three years ago had been able to do that. How he had convinced the Chronicler who had stood against him to help him go after Cynder, swayed Ignitus into bringing him to the Temple though he'd been so sure that it was pointless. How he could rally those who had no reason left to rage against their doomed fate.
Somehow, with Spyro, she managed to talk about Ignitus and smile.
Part of her had considered spilling the big secret, that he wasn't really dead, that maybe one day they could both see him again. Seeing the grief in his eyes despite his defiant hope, she almost did. But she knew Ignitus would find his own way to tell.
Spyro left her there while the night was still young, probably nowhere near as much of a night owl as she was. He was headed home to see his parents again. She hoped he would come back someday.
But though her place on the wall fell to quiet again, she didn't feel quite as alone as she once had. Maybe the energy of two kids sharing memories of their lost mentor had brought his attention here.
She didn't have the spirit-box to speak with the dead, but maybe this time she didn't need it. A warm summer breeze picked up around her, billowing her hair as she leaned out into it.
It carried on it a familiar aura. One she thought she'd never feel again.
His name sprang to her throat, but it didn't leave her mouth. Somewhere out there, Ignitus was alive. Can he watch over her like he promised he would? Is he still with her if he's only half gone?
Well, young one, where might you be?
The words aren't meant for her, at least they weren't. But she can't help answering, lifting her head to the stars. To her, that dragon up there isn't only Spyro. It's Ignitus too. And perhaps this is the one thing that's changed.
"Here I am," she called out. "I'll always be here."
He doesn't answer. She knows he knows.
Well... Though I've had plenty of random AU ideas for TIS, this is the first one I've actually sat down and written. The idea of Ever's reaction to Ignitus' death should she choose to stay behind was just something I had to get off my chest.
About Six Impossible Things since I'm here and it's been some years since I published TIS: It's still going to happen. I spent too many years puttering around with my Sonic fic not getting anywhere and now I'm distracted with The Channeler and Remnants. So I don't know when.
I'm not really even sure what the scope of the story is or how long it will be. I hope I don't end up taking this long for like, a three-shot. But it will come eventually.
Maybe other little stories too every once in a while... I like to look back on this world and these characters. But no promises, this was a completely random burst of inspiration out of nowhere.
I think that's about it? I hope this was a nice little throwback.