Dark Legacy 2: Umbral Visions

by Dardarax

A year has passed since the Dragon Temple was ravaged by the Mad Feran Prince and a well deserved peace has settled upon the realm. But the news of the brief war with the Ferans sparks the interest of an ancient Order whose return marks catastrophe. Conflict brews anew and the new generation of dragons must find their place in the world before it swallows them entirely.

58. Mending

Chapter 58-Mending

Disclaimer: I, Dardarax, do not own Spyro, Cynder, the Temple, the Guardians, or any other character or place owned by the Spyro franchise. I do, however, own a crippling amount of self doubt when it comes to my own writing that constantly makes me fret and over-perfect until I am late to upload which then causes me to spiral into a bout of guilt-induced madness that forces me to shut myself away from my own fan-base out of fear of rejection, which only hastens that very issue! Oh, and I also own a few characters. They're names are listed somewhere down there below the story.

---

The murmur of the halls was a very different music today. Then again, it had been ever since they'd been brought back.

The warm hum of cheerful banter was gone, replaced by the cold, distant hush of gossip. It followed Voltlyn through the halls, accompanied by searching eyes. Yet every time Voltlyn neared, it stopped, and they glanced away, only to resume the moment she'd passed.

It was strange. There'd been a time, once, where that murmur had been all she'd known. Walking through the Temple, at Torch's side, at the center of a constant symphony of gossip and rumour.

Stranger still was that she couldn't remember if she'd wanted the rumours to be about herself, if she'd wanted people to suspect… or if she'd been too afraid of what might happen if someone did.

How silly, in hindsight.

Sillier still that she'd continue to feel the same now.

At least these rumours weren't about her... directly.

Yet somehow that only made it worse.

Voltlyn had gotten it easy, compared to everyone else. The Guardians hadn't scolded her. They'd just scolded everyone near her. The message was the same, but she didn't have to bear the brunt of it.

No doubt they couldn't bring themselves to.

Which was a shame. She'd spent days preparing a biting speech, only for Typhous of all dragons to steal the words right out of her mouth.

And then put every point of hers to shame - arrows to her thorns.

Good for him.

She'll still bite the Guardian's ears off later for what they did to Savron. Metaphorically of course! Or maybe she was going too far? They did make peace, after all.

Voltlyn sighed, shoulders slumped. How did things get so complicated? Well, she was probably best off letting things lie for now until something inevitably went wrong. Then she could step up and take a stand for them. No need to try and make things worse now, right?

She reached the end of the hall and, lost in thought, turned the corner too sharply, promptly running face-first into a 'wall' which hadn't been there before.

A wall which grunted on impact.

Voltlyn staggered back with a yelp, falling to her haunches as the whole world spun.

And through the ringing in her ears, she almost missed the sound of two familiar voices. Voices she'd hoped to find.

"Thunder you oaf! I told you before not to turn so tight… Voltlyn?"

Voltlyn beamed, still dizzy, and waved up at Thunder and Wintra, who gawked down at her. "Hey…"

Wintra was at her side immediately, guiding her up, Thunder following shortly after, his expression strained with worry.

"Where were you?" Wintra snapped, tugging her up, struggling to get Voltlyn off the ground until Thunder helped. "We went to get you and you were gone!"

Voltlyn flushed and offered both an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, the Guardians had a meeting for us out of nowhere. I'd have left a note but…" she shrugged. "They said 'right now.'"

Wintra puffed up, her face twisting beneath her mask, agitation frosting her over… only for her to let it out with a sigh, all her annoyance emerging in a tiny puff of frost.

"Guess I can't blame you for that." She kicked the ground. "Would've been nice to have a note posted so we didn't waste half an hour knocking on your door."

"Told you she wasn't there," rumbled Thunder.

Wintra snapped a glare over her shoulder, and puffed some cold right into his nose. "She's a deep sleeper! Sorry for wanting to be sure! Besides, those girls insisted she was there!"

"They were laughing the whole time."

"Behind my back, the vapid hags!" Wintra growled, wings tensed, claws rending the carpet. "I figured you might be listening to your music."

Voltlyn shrank, her smile fading as she heard the tremble in Wintra's voice. "I'm sorry. That was really rude of them, and me."

Wintra glanced up at her, then shook her head, waving a paw. "Not your fault. Took me too long to think to fly outside your window and check inside."

"Yep." Thunder said with a grin.

Wintra snapped him another glare. "If you're so smart, why didn't you suggest it?"

"You were too entertaining."

Another snicker tinkled Voltlyn's throat, but she held it back. Instead, she stepped forward to give them both a hug.

"Thank you for coming to check on me, even if it turned out badly. It means a lot."

Wintra stiffened in Voltlyn's hold and, to Voltyn's shock, spluttered. "W-what? No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it! Seriously. Don't."

Did she just get warmer? Voltlyn smirked, her eyes narrowing.

She pulled back though, to give Wintra some space.

"Okay… still, it means a lot. Being cooped up in a room for so long isn't fun."

Thunder nodded, grumbling. "Not nearly enough space."

"Only because you insist on stuffing your room full of junk."

"It's not junk!"

Voltlyn smiled and sat back, watching the two bicker, warmth budding.

How things had changed. She remembered when hearing them fighting, alongside Torch, had only made her withdraw further, pulling back out of fear.

But now it was so much less… toxic. Fewer real insults, fewer threats.

And there was always a hidden smile behind their glares and barbs.

She could feel his weight, his shadow, less and less every passing day.

Finally they finished, Wintra sighing and looking back to Voltlyn, rubbing her horns apologetically.

"Anyway, my point is that we're happy to come and talk. Help you recover after… that." Wintra glanced meaningfully at Voltlyn's chipped horn.

Oh, right.

Voltlyn took a breath and fit a smile onto her face, pushing back the memories of terror, of being hunted, of countless twisted mannequins.

"Yeah… thanks. It was pretty scary. Worth it, but scary."

"Yes." Wintra's voice snapped Voltlyn to attention, the ice dragoness looking away, body shrinking, a paw raised to her cloth mask. "Scary… I'm sure it was."

Voltlyn stared for a moment, then shrank in on herself. Thunder, too, pulled back, not having any idea what to say.

Right.

Voltlyn chewed on her words for a moment, then decided to dare.

"He… I think he does feel bad."

Wintra went stiff and for a moment Voltlyn's heart stopped beating and Thunder drew in a sharp breath.

Did she just go too far?

Did she cross a line?

Then, Wintra swallowed and turned away, her voice trembling.

"Good for him. Now let's go. Your other friends are waiting. Typhia and… whoever."

Voltlyn sagged, her heart resuming its 'thump-thump' in her chest.

"Yeah…" she squeaked. "Though… if it's okay… could I just drop by the clinic for a bit? I want to talk to Tirren."

This time it was Wintra's turn to wince and shrink back.

"... Yes. It's okay. Just… don't expect me to go in."

Voltlyn nodded, mouth sealed, so dry it seemed to fuse together. "Fair."

She took a breath and steadied herself as they started down the halls once more, heading to the clinic.

There was a lot she needed to talk to Tirren about… but as important as the tension between Tirren and Wintra was, it was a conversation for later.

The stares only got worse as Wintra and Thunder fell in behind her, the murmurs growing more fervent, though this was at least a very different topic. Though Voltlyn figured they'd have stopped by now. She'd been hanging out with the two for a good couple of weeks.

Wintra and Thunder didn't take it nearly as well as she did, though. The weight of the whispers dragging them down as the students all around wondered how she could stand walking with them.

Not that there was much she could do about that. A public rant in their defense or overt affection would only embarrass them and make things worse.

Or she could still try anyway.

So with a flash of her teeth she grinned at a particularly noisy pair and asked them, in response to them wondering if Wintra was seducing her: "Is that really any of your business?"

They froze and all conversation halted.

Voltlyn didn't give them a chance to stutter back and just kept walking, leaving them, and her friends, gaping and speechless.

Her walk turned into a saunter.

They caught up after a moment, but Voltlyn brushed off their questions on what she just did and got to another topic, which they fell in on eagerly, embarrassment fading.

Thus she chatted with them as they made their way around the Temple, through the corridors, across the Great Hall and down several flights of stairs, even gliding through some shortcuts Sav taught her to make better time. Slowly the two cheered up, awe filling up their eyes as she told them all the gorey details on how she fought off a horde of mannequins all by herself and how she took one of the Shade's eyes!

Thunder was giddy by the end, swapping lightning element tricks with her, while Wintra just smiled along, looking quite pleased at the thought of the Shade's face being ripped apart.

A bit of vengeance never hurt anybody… except those who deserved it.

Finally they found the right corridor. Wintra and Thunder trailed off, stopping just outside, leaving Voltlyn to step in alone. She nodded to them in thanks and promised she'd be quick. She only had a few things she wanted to say.

Head held high, she stepped through the bleached marble doors and into the clinic.

And ran straight into a very personal conversation.

---

"And that's the whole of it, Tirren. I'm sorry."

Tirren churned. All of her. Gut, chest, mind. Every bit of her sloughing off, melting away into a pot to mix together into one sickening mass.

So that was it. The whole plot. Everything.

And all for nothing.

"Same." Whispered the brown draken at Terrador's side. Geocia. The cause of it all.

Assuming that was even her real name.

"I'm sorry." She finished.

Tirren lay back and shut her eyes, dragging harsh, whistling breaths through clenched fangs. In and out. In and out. Breathe. Don't shout. Don't scream. Don't cry.

You've done enough of all that this week.

And they didn't deserve the effort.

So she only said the one thing that could be said after all that.

"Why?"

' She tried to keep her voice from trembling, but like everything else, she failed at that too.

They both winced and Tirren couldn't help but revel in the slight surge of satisfaction that they felt the same pain she did. That they understood the pointless agony they'd put her through.

That the guilt would haunt them.

Even if only a little.

' "It was a test," Terrador began, but Tirren snarled out her incredulity.

"Did you need to test me? On that?! On being able to play along?! Work with people?"

He flinched again, and at his side Geocia curled up, hugging her wings close.

"Not you." He admitted. "It was a… universal test. One intended for all our candidates. I knew you'd pass. That's why I rigged the draw for you to end up with the group you did."

"You were supposed to be the good example, Tirren." Geocia murmured, wings curled tight around her. "The one that the rest of the group would look up to and realize they needed to shape up to in order to compete with."

"Maybe if you didn't encourage them," Tirren snapped before she could restrain herself. She only felt the tiniest bit guilty at Geocia's recoil, at the tiny apologetic sob she retched out in response.

Only a little.

"That… was my mistake." Terrador said with a murmur. "Don't blame her. I told her to push you. And I told her to test, not correct. Even when she came to me with misgivings."

"You're only saying that because she's your niece." Tirren spat back. "Do you have any idea how little sleep I got doing all your damn group projects solo, while also doing all my other homework?! Because I was told I'd fail if we didn't get it done? Because I was told I had to find ways to work with dragons I might not like!"

"I… may have misrepresented the test at the beginning." Terrador answered, with a sigh. "I am sorry for that. I meant for you to smack the others around into shaping up. I figured you wouldn't accept their excuses and force the issue. I thought you'd show them they need to shape up if they wanted to pass. But considering your relationship with Savron…" he grimaced, deliberately looking away from her wing, "I should've known better. I'm sorry."

Hot emotion broiled up in her chest, all the way to her eyes, which burned, stinging wet pain biting at her eyes until she closed them and turned away.

She couldn't speak. She wouldn't. She wasn't going to let the tremble of her chest through.

Terrador spoke first anyway. "Like all the planted students we placed in the groups, Geocia was instructed to create friction. Traditionally this is done to make Guardian prospects confront problematic elements so they can learn how to form a strong team, while learning about their own weaknesses. This year… proved that to be an unwise strategy."

Tirren laughed, high and jagged. "You think?!"

The Earth Guardian sighed once more, and his strong, stoic posture wore a bit further down. "It worked for some. But… times have changed. Ideas have changed. The youths of this era have grown up in a very different world and our old traditions no longer fit them." He gave a weary smile. "And we chose too many candidates, in the hopes of filling our ranks again. And worse of all, I put too much pressure on you."

He turned to Tirren, and she finally met his eyes again.

"I believed… no, believe, that you would be a truly incredible Earth Guardian, Tirren. I was sure you would never fail anything I put in front of you. And if I hadn't made this test impossible, I am sure you would have succeeded. That is my fault, not yours."

"Well…" Tirren said, swallowing back the bile in her throat. "I guess we'll never find out then. I'm not changing my mind."

Terrador and Geocia both winced and any hope remaining crumbled in their stances.

"I understand." Terrador took another deep breath, and let it out slowly. "And I don't blame you. You've seen the worst of us Guardians. I understand if you don't want to be one anymore."

"I don't." Tirren said vehemently. "I'll be better off and be able to make more change as a regular noble than as a Guardian. I don't want whatever that was with Savron and the nobles."

Besides, then I won't need to make Terath take over the family. Better for everyone.

"You will have more freedom, yes." Terrador said with a sagely nod. "But less power."

Tirren rolled her eyes. "You didn't look all that powerful today. Or when Savron was in danger. You're even more at the whims of the court than a lesser family like mine is."

"True enough."

"Speaking of power," Geocia whispered, and Tirren had to stop herself from visibly grinding her teeth, "Please don't make me do that again, uncle. I had to shower after every study session to get the ick of bullying off my scales." She shook her head and sniffed, looking away from Tirren.

"I get I needed to learn how to politic and enact subterfuge for Guardian work, but most days it just felt like too much." She swallowed and turned her gaze up to him, eyes wide. "It just felt wrong. Please tell me Guardians don't ever actually have to do that."

He winced as hard as he had for Tirren. "Almost never. And you're right. I'm planning on petitioning for this test's removal. I doubt it'll serve any good for us now. If it ever has in the first place."

"Good." Both Tirren and Geocia said, simultaneously.

They both froze. Geocia glanced at Tirren, with a faint smile, only for it to fade when Tirren looked away from her and curled up on the bed. She retreated back into her cushion, hiding behind her wings once more.

And again, Terrador sighed.

"On another note," Terrador began, his voice soft as beach sand, "you will still need lessons on how to properly channel a fury. I will insist on those, even if you do not join for further Guardianship lessons."

"So you do know about it." Tirren said with a snort, looking back over at him.

"Yes." He admitted, settling back to look down at her seriously. "And I was quite surprised that you'd learned its name. A mark that this 'Shade' is an especially dangerous figure, to have that knowledge."

"Why?" Tirren asked, fangs grit, claws clenched at her side. "Why have I never heard of it before? Is it another one of your 'Guardian' secrets? Something to be kept just for you?"

His face tensed and he drew in a steady, hissing breath. He held it, for a moment, before forcing it out, letting his own frustration go with it.

"This one, is one we stand by."

Violent heat surged in Tirren's chest and she rose, despite the pain in her back, and for a moment was sure she was about to spit fire at him.

Only to have the heat cooled as he spoke again.

"Unlike many of our other secrets, this one directly saves lives."

Tirren stared, holding herself up, chest and anger inflated, even as the heat began to dwindle down.

Save lives.

This secret saves lives.

There was only one reason for that.

"Using it is a risk then." It wasn't so much a question as a statement. She'd felt it, when she did it. How close she'd been to the edge. How every hit she took that battle edged her closer to the cusp of losing control. It'd been like holding up a mountain, with only the leverage of her stance keeping her from being crushed under it.

She'd been channeling a whole fury. An explosive blast of magic that could level a house and kill dozens in less than a second. All that energy flowing through her body at once… if something had gone wrong.

"I could have died."

He nodded and Tirren deflated, flopping back onto the bed once more, as a sudden chill overtook her.

"You and everyone in that glade."

She shuddered. She'd been so close.

She took in another breath, eyes shut tight as the thought of what would've happened to her, to the others if she lost control came rushing down all at once.

A single lost wing would've been the least of her worries.

Terrador's voice rose again, gentle and smooth as powdered sand. "In the past, several hundred years ago, this technique was common knowledge. Any dragon who could use a fury could use this technique. But few survived their first attempt."

Tirren winced and glanced away, hugging herself tight.

"It was never the uninitiated that tried it, of course." He continued, head tilted up to stare at the ceiling. "A few children did without realizing what they were doing, but it was the amateurs, those who had only just started to dip their toes into the field of elemental magic who suffered the most casualties."

Of course.

"They'd start to get a hold of their abilities and thought they could do anything. Then they hear of this technique and…" he sighs. "They rarely left much after. Along with anyone who happened to be nearby at the time."

Tirren turned to a very different shade of green.

"So to keep promising, innocent students from killing themselves and everyone around them, the Guardians of the past changed the narrative." He straightened and turned his gaze upon Tirren once more. "Thus it became common to teach all students that it was impossible to channel a fury inside. That it could only be expelled outward. And the tutelage of this technique was kept, to be shared only with masters of the elements we Guardians trust with it."

"So all of you can do it?"

"All… aside from Inferna and Cynder." Terrador replied with a nod. "Training on this technique is methodical and careful, to ensure the student has an iron will. Cynder, and Spyro, both are nearly ready to use the technique themselves. They likely could already, if they chose to. It's just there's no reason for them to risk their life trying yet."

"As for Inferna?"

Terrador opened his maw, then paused, to chew over his words carefully. "We… didn't inform her of this technique. Until your story she was ignorant of it."

Oh. Tirren supposed that made sense. With how chaotic and unpredictable Inferna was…

"She's still not properly trained as a Guardian. There are many techniques we are still teaching her. Ones she will need to master before she is ready for the most dangerous."

Terrador paused, and heaved a deep groan of a sigh. "But now we'll need to include her in Spyro and Cynder's training, in addition to you. Just in case."

"Can I join too?" Geocia cut in, all but bouncing on her seat.

"No."

Geocia flinched back from Tirren and Terrador's simultaneous rebuttal, and then sagged miserably. Tirren eyed Terrador, who returned the look and once more in unison they burst out laughing.

It didn't make Geocia feel any better, but they just couldn't help themselves.

"That's a decision for your father to make, Geocia," Terrador said, with a consoling pat, "not me."

Tirren sagged imperceptibly, glad that she didn't have to say her own reasons out loud.

Not that they weren't obvious.

Geocia nodded, swallowed, then looked to Tirren. "Okay. But, before I go, I don't suppose I can try to make things up to you? I definitely owe you a few drinks after everything I did."

The once solid granite facade surrounding Tirren cracked, for just a moment, crumbling away at Geocia's pleading stare.

Damnit.

"Assuming I can leave by then, sure." She said with a shrug.

Geocia's beamed, so wide and bright it reflected light. "I'm sure you will. You're tough."

Yeah. Yeah Tirren was. And she would.

It might be nice.

Which reminded her… Tirren internally flinched at the memory of agreeing to have a drink with Igneous.

Hopefully he wouldn't cash that in any time soon. She just wasn't ready for that yet.

"We should let you rest now."

Terrador's words drew Tirren back from the edge of pondering and to reality once more. She focused up on him, as he stood and gestured for Geocia to follow.

"I think we've distressed you enough. You deserve some quiet time, without distractions."

That would be nice. If only it was even remotely possible.

But Tirren just nodded and bid them farewell, even waving to Geocia as she left, who was still wearing that enormous smile.

The moment they were gone, however, Tirren sagged back into bed and dissolved into a limp puddle, all her tense poise disappearing, and with it, exhaustion took its place.

Maybe she could get some sleep?

The world blurred and for just a moment she considered shutting her eyes and letting sleep take her again, only for her to spot a topaz scaled figure slip into view.

And she pulled herself back together.

Not yet. She still needed to talk to Voltlyn.

---

Tirren stared right at her, blue eyes penetrating as Terrador and Geocia passed Voltlyn by, Voltlyn freezing in place at the look. Well, no turning back now.

Tirren had seen her. And she had to do this. No matter how tired they were.

Voltlyn took a deep breath, then broke the stone stillness with a weak wave and a smile. "Hey Rin! Mind if we chat?"

Tirren blinked, then smiled back, flopping back onto the bed as if all her tendons were cut.

"Sure. How did the meeting go?"

Voltlyn tilted her head and frowned as she sat down, casting only a brief glance at where Terrador had gone. "He didn't tell you?"

"Some. The basics." Tirren yawned, trying vainly to keep it elegant, but failing spectacularly. "He told me about the offer he gave the others. He apologized for several things." Tirren eyed Voltlyn, and all traces of amusement crumbled away as she took in Voltlyn's posture, her expression.

"But that's not why you're here to talk to me, is it?"

Voltlyn shrank apologetically. She should've expected Tirren would sense that… she was so good at reading people!

Though, she guessed it at least got things to the point.

Tirren needed to hear this.

She deserved to hear it.

"Yeah. There are a few things I need to talk to you about."

Tirren tensed, then nodded, drawing in a deep breath to brace herself.

The fact she felt she had to proved just how necessary this was.

The quiet of the clinic settled, the sterile white walls looming tall, towering over them, as if to listen in.

Let them listen. Everyone needed to hear this. But it was Tirren who it needed to be said to.

"I'm sorry."

Tirren flinched back at the harsh slight, paws and tail curling, fangs grit as she hissed in a sharp breath, mind rushing to comprehend what she did wrong this ti-

She blinked.

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry," Voltlyn said, bowing her head. "I'm sorry we all judged you for what you and Lyrith did."

Tirren's sapphire eyes were wide, mouth agape in shock.

It wasn't like she hadn't been apologized to before. A few of the others had.

But only about the wing. Only about how they were sorry for her. About how they wished they could've been there to stop it.

But none had considered the emotional wounds. The harm from everything that came before.

So Tirren stared, dumbfounded while Voltlyn shifted at her bedside, slowly flushing as the gawking continued.

Um… was that a bit much?

Finally, Tirren shook her head, and laid back, to stare up at the ceiling with a soft chuckle.

"Thanks… but you don't need to. You weren't the one lashing out at me for it. Not like Sav or Ty or…"

"No!"

Voltlyn's paw struck the bedside table with a crash, scattering cups and get-well cards.

Both Voltlyn and Tirren jumped, Voltlyn turning a bright red as Aquina appeared from around the corner to glare her way.

She shrank and squeaked. "Sorry."

Aquina's snort filled the room with mist, but she turned away without scolding them, to Voltlyn's relief.

She really didn't want to be called out for causing a ruckus! That's not why she was here at all!

A glance at Tirren made her blush further, as Tirren's smirk had grown, eyeridge arched. She turned her gaze back to Voltlyn and settled back, to eye her.

"No?" She asked, blue eyes glittering.

Voltlyn grinned back awkwardly and rubbed her horns. "I've… not exactly been polite to you after either."

"I… think I can see that." Tirren said, tilting her head "I do recall you being a bit strained that one time we talked. That time you were painting…"

Voltlyn nodded, grimacing. "Yeah… I was… a bit upset at the time. I tried not to let it show. But... " She looked away, shoulders hunched. "I didn't do very well."

"So… you want to apologize for that?" Tirren laughed and shook her head. "If anyone has a right to be angry about that, it's you, Volt. He was your partner up until that day."

Voltlyn shook her head, causing Tirren to blink.

"Him yeah, but not you. You didn't have any part in why we broke up. It took some soul searching to realize that."

Tirren stared for a moment, lost in thought, pondering. Then she shrugged and shook her head. "If it'll help you feel better, apology accepted. But you really didn't need to-"

"I'm not done."

Tirren stumbled, fumbling over her words. "What?"

Voltlyn took another breath and readied herself for the big thing.

Apologizing had been important, but there was more to it. There was more that needed to be said.

The thing Tirren desperately needed to hear.

"I'm apologizing not just for me, but on behalf of everyone. They should be here, but they're not, and I'm going to have words with them."

Tirren started, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Because they all owe you an apology. Especially Sav and Iggy. They might have already given you one, but not for the right reason." Voltlyn met Tirren's eyes, locking them in place, her gaze refusing to let Tirren's go until she understood. "They had no right to take an interest in your personal life, or to try and control it. More importantly, they had no right to make you apologize for reacting the way you did."

Voltlyn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her own body shaking, memories flashing, remembering all the judging stares she had after Torch was outed. All the looks, the whispers, the 'talks' people had with her that she didn't want to have.

The guilt that churned through her for months after, which she could only quell by doing everything she could to help her savior. The guilt that she hadn't done something sooner. That she'd let all her friends and family suffer because of it.

Guilt she wouldn't let Tirren feel.

"They hurt you, Tirren." Voltlyn said, her voice trembling. "Sav hurt you. Igneus hurt you. It was brave of you to put that aside to try and help them, but you have every right to be upset. You shouldn't apologize for putting your own well being first!"

This time Tirren recoiled truly, incredulity chipping her normally statuesque mask. "But… but Savron was going crazy. Someone was possessing him, he-"

Tirren gaped as Voltlyn leaned forward and flicked her nose with a claw.

"No. Bad Tirren. Never make excuses for your abusers."

The green draken stared, jaw falling agape in bewilderment.

It was a cute look. No wonder Lyrith fell for her.

"Yes he was being manipulated. But he still said and did all those horrible things to you. He admitted as much himself, remember? The Shade taking control of him was a recent thing, that only happened during the fight and when Lyr figured it out. If I got drunk and punched you, would that excuse me for hitting you?"

Tirren opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no words.

Voltlyn sighed and leaned back, taking a less aggressive posture beside Tirren's bed. "Look, I get why you apologized to Sav when we were chasing him down. You wanted to try and help him. But… you don't really believe it, right?"

Volltyn looked into Tirren's eyes, hopeful, searching, desperate to see Tirren hadn't started believing she was in the wrong to do that. "You don't really believe you were wrong to lash out? That you should've been more mindful of him? That wasn't your job. You're his friend, but he'd stopped being yours. He'd hurt you, threatened you, bullied you. He tried to sabotage your dream. You had the right to be upset. To not go and try and smooth things over. That was his job, and he failed at it because he was willing to listen to his own deranged demons rather than his friends and family."

Tirren glanced away, mouth pressed together tight. "It's not my dream anymore."

Votllyn's lip trembled and with a choked sob she lunged forward to pull Tirren into a hug. A gentle hug. She was still injured after all.

"Don't. Don't make excuses. It was brave of you. It was smart of you. But don't believe it, okay?" Voltlyn pulled back, her vision glistening, as she looked Tirren in the face, made her look back, willed her to understand. "You deserve better friends. You don't owe ones who hurt you, took you for granted and abused you. Savron's getting better now and it's because of you. But don't believe what you had to say to make it possible. Don't let that convince you to let them do what they did all over again. They need to be better. Show them how they can be better, but make them do it. Don't let them push you around again."

Voltlyn stopped, having to catch her breath, vision a bit dizzy from the long tirade. But she didn't blink, didn't look away, staring into Tirren's face, searching to see the light of understanding. The one she needed.

She wasn't going to let Tirren fall into the trap again. She wasn't going to let her, or Igneous, or Savron make the same mistakes which nearly tore them apart.

They deserved better. Especially Tirren.

Tirren, who had given up more than anyone.

But Tirren looked away, shoulders slumping, Voltlyn not finding the spark.

"I… okay."

Voltlyn inhaled a shuddering breath, then nodded. "Alright. But if you need reminding, just let me know. I learned a lot from Torch."

Tirren flinched, but finally nodded, taking a deep breath.

When her eyes opened and met Voltlyn's, she spotted the tiniest glimmer there.

And her heart somersaulted through the air.

"Okay. I'll keep all that in mind… thanks Volt."

Voltlyn beamed and put her paw on the bed beside Tirren's. "No problem. Any time."

"Mind if we talk about something else?"

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

Tirren was quiet for a moment, thinking, then she gave a weak smile. "Tell me what actually happened at the meeting. Terrador just skimmed over it."

Voltlyn's eyes flashed and she sat up, wings fluttering. "Oh, now that's a story you're going to want to hear."

---

Laughter. Laughter was good. Better than Lyrith expected as he turned the corner into the clinic. It'd been so quiet up until now that any sound was refreshing.

But laughter, especially from these two, was a relief.

Lyrith pulled back, away from the clinic door and the sight of Voltlyn and Tirren giggling over the memory of dumbfounded Guardians, unable to stop a grin of his own from forming.

After everything he'd put them all through, it was good they could still laugh.

Still smiling, Lyrith turned away from the clinic and searched for a seat, to wait for a chance to sneak in and wish both well.

Though… there weren't exactly many spots to choose from. Mostly due to the other two waiting outside the clinic.

Wintra and Thunder both sat stiff and still, neither meeting his gaze as they waited for Voltlyn to come out, glancing at him sidelong only when they thought he wasn't looking.

Which he was. Always.

It was better than most of the times he'd seen them. He still tensed up whenever they passed by, but less now.

Especially for Wintra.

Lyrith frowned, a thought darting across his awareness.

Had he thanked her for saving him? Should he?

He didn't get further than that thought, as Inferna cleared her throat behind him, finally breaking her quiet. "Lyrith?"

She'd followed him the whole way without saying a word, actually respecting his request for quiet after they left. Until now.

"Can… we talk now?"

He supposed he could give her the chance.

With a sigh he turned and looked up at her, the once mighty and powerful fire Guardian bowed and bent, head low, wings dragging at her sides.

Pitiful. But deserved.

Still…

His chest twisted a bit at the sight and his shoulders drooped.

Yeah. It was about time they talked.

With a short, sharp nod he took a seat in one of the few cushions away from Thunder and gestured for Inferna to join him.

She didn't wait to be settled before letting all her thoughts spill out.

"Lyr, I want to apologize. I… I was so, so wrong. I should've listened." She glanced away, trembling, jaw clenched tight, so her words wouldn't gush out until she thought each of them through, not willing to make her previous mistake again.

"I was so angry, so afraid, so… so confused I wasn't willing to listen to what you said. You were trying to help. Trying to be reasonable. You might have been reckless, but you were right and I couldn't see that." She laughed, but there was a coarse tone to it, scorn scraping her throat in self inflicted retribution. "What was I thinking? It was your recklessness that made me like you from the start. Your impulsiveness. And I punished you for it."

That wasn't the problem.

"I don't expect you to forgive me."

Missing the point.

"But I'll do everything I can to prove I've changed-"

Lyrith's paw snapped down, knocking the pillow beside him across the hall, stopping her mid-word.

He turned, eyes smoldering, jaw locked, fangs creaking against each other as he stood.

And each word from his mouth was an arrow, aimed straight for her heart.

"I'm angry because you didn't trust me, 'mom.'"

She froze, and her breath froze with her, words trapped in her throat with nowhere to go.

Lyrith spun, his caustic laugh searing the air as he began to pace, anger sizzling on his tongue.

"I don't care that you were angry and said some stupid things. I'm the fucking posterdrake of dumb decisions made in the moment. I punched a prince because he tried to help me wrong. And I don't fucking regret it." Lyrith laughed again, shaking his head. Then, he turned to Inferna, eyes narrowed, claws dug into the carpet. "What you did wrong, mom, was refuse to trust me. To think I would say something that important for no good reason!" He jabbed a claw, right into her chest, and she recoiled like it hurt.

He stopped, breath heavy, the whole hallway quiet. The few students passing through stared, slack jawed, while Thunder and Wintra very pointedly avoided looking, despite their own mouths hanging ajar. Inferna just stared, eyes wide, but clear, staring down at him with the understanding that'd been missing for far too long.

Then, she glanced away, smile weak and warped, held together by string and sheer force of will.

"Right… I guess I figured that was bundled in with everything else but… no, you're right. I'm sorry Lyr. I'm… not good with emotions."

Lyrith's jaw clenched at the sight, his chest knotting up again with feelings he'd only recently become acquainted with.

She wasn't the only one.

"It's just... " She stuttered, voice trembling, eyes beginning to fill, glossy and distant. "I've already missed so much time with you. You're all grown up already and… I never got to be there when you were a kid and soon you won't need us and… I want you to be happy and safe. I want us to actually be a family. I don't want to lose what I've only just got."

His breath hitched and he dragged in a sharp inhale, loosening the binds around his chest.

Right. It still seemed so surreal.

Sometimes he just forgot. Even when he said it outloud.

His mouth was suddenly dry. So, so dry. And it took all his strength to force his next words out. "If we're going to make this work. We need to trust each other." He met her eyes, fixing his gaze upon hers, locking her in place. And more importantly, locking his own, so he couldn't look away. "Both of us. Deran too. If… if I can't trust you… then… and if you don't trust me…"

"Right." She sniffed and wiped her eyes, smile strengthening. "Right. We just had a big talk about this after all. I just… wanted to make it really clear for you. I do, Lyrith. I do trust you."

He inhaled, breath shaking, then nodded back, though his smile was strained, through no fault of her own.

Just from lack of use.

The last while had been hard on them all.

She smiled back, much more warmly and the hall fell into a quiet, relieved lull.

It wasn't even ruined by the stares everyone sent his way.

It was, however, interrupted almost immediately.

"Dad!"

"It's a good idea, Ty! It'll help increase exposure, normalize it and find you a guy!"

"Not so loud!"

All eyes turned down the hall, Lyrith's brows arching.

Typhous could've passed for a fire drake. He steamed beside his father, face hidden by a wing as they wandered into the clinic hall.

With every eye fixed on them.

And still his father did not notice.

"Oh, right! Though I think you should be proud! Stand up and be the role model your people… uh… I mean, your community needs!"

Oh no. Lyrith shut his eyes and inhaled, slowly, able to feel the pain radiating off of Typhous from all the way down the hall.

At least coming out seemed to go well? Though now, it seemed, Typhous had to deal with a very different problem.

"Yeah, sure, but not right now."

"Why not? You know who you are! You should be proud of it! Boldly exclaim it to the world!"

"I can't. You know how… people react-"

"But you have me at your side! Nobody would dare insult you while I'm around!"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about."

They came to a stop midway down the hall and glanced around. Typhous sagged in relief at how few others were here, though it was a shallow slump. He was careful to not look Wintra or Thunder's way, though they looked at him, expressions keen.

Thunder's most of all.

Lyrith's eyes narrowed, taking note. He'll have to keep an eye on him, just in case.

Aephion waved and both Inferna and Lyrith waved back, though with none of his enthusiasm, their paws dragged down from a long, hard, emotional day.

Still, it was enough invitation to draw the duo over, Aephion powering forward, so fast he momentarily left Typhous behind.

"Inferna! Lyrith! Good to see you! I hear the meeting was interesting!"

"Yeah…" Inferna rubbed her horn, chuckling. "It certainly was."

Lyrith snorted in agreement, and eyed Aephion. He was awfully cheerful, considering how furious he'd been not long ago.

It had only been a few days prior that he'd been stalking the halls, fuming, a living storm of worry and anger as he searched for Typhous and raged against Savron.

And then when Savron had run off…

Lyrith's fangs clenched, claws dug hard in the ground.

His words came out before he could stop them.

"It's certainly interesting how quick you are to change your tune on whether Savron should be allowed to live or not."

Beside him, Inferna hissed in a single, shocked breath, eyes flying wide, mouth dropping open. Aephion too flinched, but unlike Inferna, or Typhous, he did not gawk. He just turned to Lyrith, his smile disappearing.

"... Yes." He said, finally, after a moment of silence. "It's… now that I've had some time to cool down… and I know the context…"

Lyrith snorted. Suddenly Savron wasn't a monster anymore! Ancestors, how quick these damn nobles were to change their mind the moment it suited them.

Though… at least he did change his mind, rather than double down, like most of the others.

Aephion sighed, glancing away from his son and Inferna, not willing to meet their gaze as his own memories of that time surfaced.

"I'm not exactly proud of my outburst. If it helps, I have already sworn to Spyro and Cynder that I will do everything I can to protect Savron from the machinations of the court." He met Lyrith's eyes again, his green gaze shimmering with a steely metallic resolve. "You have my word."

Well… fuck. Lyrith eyed him, a smirk growing. He could hardly be upset about that.

Aephion grinned at the sight, then paused, looked Lyrith over and nodded.

"I like you. Want to date Typhous?"

Lyrith, and everyone nearby, choked.

Typhous most of all.

"DAD!"

"What?" Aephion turned, expression offended. "He's a good choice!"

"Public, dad!" Typhous wailed, covering his face. "Why do you do this? Every time!"

Their banter fizzled away, drowned out by the static in Lyrith's ears as he stared up at the general, his jaw unhinged, creaking in the breeze as the words ran through his head over and over again.

Slowly, Lyrith shut his eyes, took a breath and clenched his jaw. Bit by bit the world came back into focus around him, the static fading, Inferna's shocked expression, the stunned looks of Wintra and Thunder, Typhous's ruby-red face.

And Lyrith couldn't help himself.

His snort turned everyone his way, as he doubled over, covering his face, struggling to hold back heaves of laughter.

Oh ancestors, it was too much.

Aephion, midway through defending himself, went very, very white and turned to glare down at Lyrith, wind whipping up around him.

"Why are you laughing?" He snarled, claws flexing. "Do you think this is funny?"

Lyrith choked, biting back another snort and took two deep breaths to steady himself.

Yes. But not for the reason he was thinking.

"No, I'm not interested." Lyrith said, his voice trembling. "Ty and I already had this talk." He looked up at Aephion, and his mirth faded, becoming stony serious. "And I'm laughing because-"

"Because my son and I just talked about this."

Lyrith faltered, words stumbling over in his mouth, and he turned to face his mom, his jaw once more falling open in amazement.

She didn't look at him though, instead rising up, to tower over the general, looming above like a smoking mountain, ready to burst, her eyes smoldering. Aephion, despite being her equal in height, shrank before her flaming gaze.

"Don't go taking your son's life into your paws, Aephion. Don't make the mistake I did. If he trusted you with a secret, you're supposed to keep it. If he doesn't want to ask, he probably has a reason. All you're going to do by forcing the issue is drive him away." She leaned in close, blowing smoke into his face as she did so. "You don't want that, do you?"

"No." He squeaked, eyes wide.

"Then drop it."

The hallway fell quiet once more as she turned and took her seat beside Lyrith once more, even Lyrith speechless.

Damn. That… was pretty incredible.

Typhous stared Inferna's way, wordlessly thankful, and she gave him a nod and a thumb-claw up.

Aephion fumbled for a moment, stumbling over his words. Desperate, he looked away from Inferna, down to Typhous, only to flinch when he saw Typhous wouldn't look back up at him. With a whine, he shriveled then backed away.

"I… I didn't mean…"

"Can we talk… in private, dad?" Typhous asked, rubbing his forehead with a paw. "I don't think I made it very clear to you the first time."

"Yeah… okay."

Typhous cast one last thankful gaze over to Inferna, and then waved goodbye to Lyrith, before he trudged off, leading his father along behind him. Lyrith waved after, then leaned back, to eye Inferna out the corner of his gaze.

She did the same.

They were quiet for a moment, everyone sitting perfectly still, watching the two disappear around the corner, Typhous taking the lead, angry, but confident.

So much more confident than he had been before.

Good for him.

Beside Lyrith, Inferna shifted, watching them go, expression still confused, but otherwise hopeful.

An expression he didn't realize he wanted to see until he saw it.

Unable to help himself, Lyrith leaned in and elbowed Inferna in the ribs, forcing her attention back his way.

And once it was there, he smiled, putting his stiff smiling muscles to use.

"Good job."

She primped, but said nothing more.

Not that there was much to say. They didn't need to anymore. At least, not today. They'd finally talked themselves out, gone over everything they'd needed to.

Well, almost everything. Lyrith still needed to talk to Deran. To make things right with him. Both getting him to apologize, and also apologizing to him in return.

Lyrith had abandoned his job to hunt Savron down, after all.

But after he'd checked on Tirren. Just for a bit. To see how she was-

A cough from within the clinic turned all their heads.

What the… was she ready?

He turned, and found himself face to face with Aquina, who leaned out of the entrance, her gaze fixed on him.

So close their noses almost touched.

He was up and across the hall, back arched, growling before he, or she, could blink.

"Oh… I'm sorry." She backed away, though her face was as cool as ever, though not distant, focused on him, curious and concerned. "Perhaps I got a bit too close."

You think?!

Lyrith took a breath, and settled himself, it taking a minute longer than he expected after that scare.

No, not scare. He didn't get scared. Just… startled.

"What do you want?" He groaned, rubbing his face as he took his seat once more.

"To talk to you. There's something important I have to ask."

---

"He really said that?"

Igneous nodded and Savron leaned back, stunned, his eyes stinging as Igneous finished the story, the words and images evoked swirling around Savron's head.

Typhous… after everything, he'd said all those things?

How did he keep such good friends?

Across, Igneous smiled back, and jostled him, for being stupid enough to think those thoughts. Though could he really blame Savron? It was hard not to.

He might not be there to hear the discussions about what was to be done about him, but he could see in his parents' faces, hear it in their voices, how difficult things were. But he trusted them to do what had to be done.

Ancestors… it felt so good to be able to trust them again. To trust anyone.

"I… couldn't bring myself to say much," Igneous admitted, after a moment of quiet. "I could only ask them that one question. I couldn't bear to ask the rest."

The rest. Savron took a breath and leaned back, rubbing his face with a paw. His mind swirled, churning around the gaps and holes in his memory, the shattered fragments that no longer fit anywhere, bits and pieces that no longer fit to any time or place. The rest of it.

The rest of what they'd been talking about, for these past few days.

"You haven't told them yet?"

Igneous blanched, then shook his head, expression cast even lower by the guilt. "No… I haven't been able to bring myself to. I'm not sure I still should."

"You should."

He jolted up, eyes going wide, only for him to laugh and look away.

"I don't-"

"I'm serious."

He froze again, then shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Savron just looked at him, at how lost he was, at how quickly he jumped to Savron's words, and sighed.

Igneous was right. He was. He needed this. He needed to do this. He was always second guessing himself. Always looking for others to lead him.

Was it Savron's fault? Did he do this?

"You're right, Igneous." Savron said, not letting himself feel regret, not letting even a tremor reach his voice. "You should leave."

Igneous's claws clenched, tightening in the fur of the rug.

Savron breathed, trying and failing to loosen the tightness of his chest. "I was thinking it over. You know, while you were away. Taking some time to remember the few adventures that weren't… you know... erased." He turned to look at the few surviving trinkets of his past, so small and lonely upon his bare shelves. "And I realized every one of our adventures were really my adventures. I was the one who planned, who figured them out, who decided what to do. Never you. That needs to change."

Savron turned and forced a smile onto his face, jagged and broken and sharp, making his heart bleed with its edges. "You need to go and find your own path, make your own decisions. It's what's best for you."

Igneous's lip trembled and Savron saw him pull back, saw him recoil from his broken smile and retreat from what needed to be done.

"But Sav, how… after what just happened I can't…"

Savron waved a paw nonchalantly, puffing at the thought. "Me? Nah, I'll be fine. I've got mom and dad babying me now, plus all our other friends! You don't have to look after me anymore!" Savron turned, expression becoming serious, to stare Igneous keen in the face. "You don't have to, Iggy."

Igneous fell silent, turning his gaze away, to focus on the now empty shelves, the vacant holes were shared memories used to be, his mouth pursed tight.

And Savron couldn't help but sigh.

He got it. He understood. It didn't make sense for Igneous to leave now of all times. But things stopped making sense a while ago.

And if Iggy didn't go now, he never would.

"Iggy." Savron took a deep breath, and let it out. "You need to live your own life too, not being pushed around by others, not letting other people make your decisions for you. I'll be fine. It'll take a while, but I'll get better and we can have fun again like we used to, but I don't want you wasting away taking care of me!" Savron struck the table beside him, causing Igneous to jump, pulled from the trance of Savron's words.

"You've already done enough of that. It's about time you went and did something for you. Not for me, not for the Guardians, not for your mom and dad, but for you." Savron looked up, fixing his gaze once more on Igneous's, and willed him to listen. For the words to finally get through that dense skull of made hard, stubborn kindness and good intentions. For him to realize that sometimes, someone needed to take care of themselves to become better a person.

Igneous stared back, for a moment, then took a breath of his own.

"I… after."

Savron sighed.

Igneous swallowed, then pressed on. "After I'm sure you're safe. I'll go."

Well… it was better than nothing.

Savron smiled.

But at least he'd get to spend a bit more time with him, before he went. Some time to make up for all he'd wasted being a monster.

"Okay. But I'm going to hold you to that." Savron said, jabbing a claw into Igneous's chest. Igneous chuckled at that and batted the claw away playfully.

"You can't hold me to anything."

"That's the spirit! Now, how about some cards? I've been getting really good at poker!"

"Only if you don't cheat by spying through your shadow this time!"

---

Lyrith took a deep breath as he settled down in Aquina's office, trying not to let nerves show.

It wasn't anything about the office itself, that was actually vaguely interesting. The decorations were nothing like he'd ever seen, with woven, painted seaweed tapestries, hourglasses of water filled with coloured sand and countless coral and pearl ornaments. Everything he'd expected of decorations from an underwater culture, though there were fewer sea shells than he expected.

No, what set him on edge, what made his scales rattle was her. It was a piercing look, one that dug into him as she sat, a look which seemed to peel back his scales and look deeper, analyzing what lay beneath.

It didn't help with how silent the place was. Aside from the echo of their breathing, nothing sounded in the office. Nothing save for the hiss of sand falling from the hourglass clock that hung above her desk.

She said nothing, for a long while, staring, watching him as he in turn waited, shifted in his seat, and tapped his claws.

And so the sand hissed on.

The tapping of his claws grew more fervent, the grind of his fangs harder as the silence went on and on and on, until finally he could take it no longer.

"Well?" He snapped, slamming his paw on her desk. "What is it? What did you want to talk to me about?"

Her muzzle twitched, but her analyzing gaze did not change.

"Your patience will be a challenge. Along with your bedside manners, but I do think it's possible."

"What is possible? Fucking tell me already."

This time her muzzle quirked up fully, and her eyes softened.

"Lyrith, I was hoping to ask you to be my apprentice."

Lyrith's mind came to an abrupt, screeching halt, all its furious momentum careening straight into the cliff-face of her words.

His jaw dropped. "What?"

Seriously, what? Her… apprentice? But… huh?

She smiled, though it was a tight, unpracticed smile, her cheeks straining to maintain it. "You did, in fact, hear me correctly. Your ears are fully functional. And no, it will not be an apprenticeship like Inferna's. I mean a real apprenticeship." She leaned forward, paws clasped in front of her, her coral eyes fixed on his. "You will work part-time in the clinic, receiving pay for your work, while also studying under me. There will be a short period of unpaid internship first, to see if the work suits both of us, but after that two week period you will become a full-time apprentice, practicing to become a doctor."

Doctor?!

"Wait. Wait." Lyrith said, pushing back away from the desk to stand, on shaking legs. "You want me... to be a doctor?"

She didn't even hesitate. "Yes. With your abilities you could easily become the greatest doctor in the history of dragonkind. It would be a waste to let that potential go to other projects." She stood up, turned and picked up several books and scrolls which lay on a side table, and laid them down in front of Lyrith, only to open them, revealing rows of calculations.

"You may not have the temperament for it… yet, but I do believe you would make a good student. You have excellent marks considering your lack of previous education and you are a fast learner. That is even before your abilities, which, due to the calculations I have run, am now sure far surpasses water magic's ability to heal."

Lyrith took a step back, shaking his head, a chuckle building on his lips. "Okay, sure, but you do remember it kills me to use my power, right? I'm not willing to risk wasting my life just to heal some cuts and bruises-"

"If you do it right, you will never have to waste a single second of your lifespan to save lives from mortal injuries."

Lyrith blinked, knocked off balance by the quick, sharp statement. "What?"

How? Was that even possible? And if so, how did she figure it out when the other Guardians couldn't?

Her smile returned, a bit stronger this time, as she turned the calculations his way. None of them made any sense, but he looked them over anyway.

"Naturally using your life to heal simple cuts is out of the question. Which is why I will teach you proper medical practice. Besides, it would serve your abilities well to understand how medicine and surgery works anyway, as it will allow you to heal severe injuries and broken bones using your power, without causing complications."

She met his gaze, her eyes sparkling with more life than he'd ever seen in her. "But even when you do use your power, you never need to use your own power to heal. Not when you can just channel the power of a life crystal through you, into someone."

His jaw once again dropped. Oh. Right.

Memories returned, of Aquina leaning over him as he drained a crystal dry and channeled its power into Tirren, healing several of her scars.

Was that why she did that? She was testing him?

Even still…

"Yeah, nice theory," he said, sitting back, crossing his wings across his chest dismissively. "Except life crystals are rare. I'd still need to drain my life at some point."

"Life crystals are rare," she refuted, leaning forward, "because most of those found are sold to clinics and the army. You will have an nearly inexhaustible supply of life crystals at your disposal to use for medical purposes if you become a doctor… especially if you don't use your powers all the time and rely on standard medical practices for simpler problems."

He opened his mouth again to refute the suggestion, only to find he didn't have words. That… made sense. Life crystals weren't common by any means, but they seemed so rare because most went to clinics and the army. And if he could just channel their power he could heal without ever needing to draw on his own life force to do it.

His mind reeled, so off balance he nearly missed what she said next.

"And that's not even getting into how vastly you could expand a clinic's supply of life crystals, or how you could use your powers to help non-draconic races."

He shook his head, clearing the mist away to ask the same word which had apparently become his catch phrase today. "What?"

"Do you recall what I said earlier? About your efficiency with crystals?"

Lyrith's mind spun back to earlier that day.

And his eyes went wide. "I doubled…"

"Yes." She smirked. "But that was before my calculations." She tapped her claw on the scroll in front of her. "I redid the math and I think it could, eventually, be as high as two and half or three times, once you become more skilled. After all, you can focus the power of the crystal to heal specific wounds. Life crystals tend to waste time and energy with smaller injuries if used by themselves, but with you directing them, every drop of their power could go to healing life threatening injuries that no surgery could fix. What might take fifteen crystals to heal could only take five or six with you focusing their power to heal the most pressing wound, leaving non-life threatening ones to be dealt with by normal medicine!"

She leaned forward, her eyes glowing with excitement, causing Lyrith to lean back. "Think about it! You would, at minimum, double the inventory of life crystals in any clinic you worked at. That alone would guarantee your immediate hire, even without a full doctorate. But if you practiced, you could become a legend in the medical field, turning any clinic you worked at into the top practicing hospital in the world, capable of healing any injury, no matter how lethal."

Lyrith stared, left with no words but her's, which whirled around his head, a tornado of possibilities clearing the canopy of worthlessness that had hung over him all his life.

He… he could, couldn't he? Even without practice he'd saved Igneous's life from what would've been sure death. He'd cured drunkeness, scarring and knit bones. If he knew how to heal the body, if he understood medicine, anything was possible!

Who needed the army? Who needed a job at the smelter or forge? He could be saving lives.

He could be making a difference.

He could make sure what happened to Malicina never happened again.

His heart clenched and he looked up, his eyes shining, mouth so dry he could barely croak out the only answer he could give.

"When do I start?"

She beamed, Aquina's joy so radiant that Lyrith nearly had to avert his eyes from the sight.

Ancestors it was strange seeing her smile. Especially like that.

"Whenever you want. Though I will need to send an official proposal to the Guardians. That being said, they truly do not get a say. This is my clinic and your decision. We will coordinate with the Guardians to create a custom lesson plan just for you. This way you will not miss any other lessons."

He nodded, head spinning. This couldn't be real.

He was going to need to check, tomorrow, after he woke up, that this really happened.

But he'd wait until then. It was too nice of a dream to wake up from just yet.

"Sure. I can start tomorrow." He cracked a smile, but it nearly wobbled right off his face. "We're currently suspended from class, after all."

"Excellent." She stood and reached a paw across the desk, making him stare down at it, dumbfounded. "It will be good to have you on board, Lyrith. I look forward to teaching you."

Hesitantly he reached out and clasped her paw, shaking it.

"It… will be good to work with you… Professor?"

"Aquina. Just Aquina. Though you can add 'Doctor' if you want." She turned away with a huff, expression suddenly turning sour. "Nobody else around here has been bothering."

"Sure… doctor."

Would he one day have that title?

Suddenly, the future seemed a lot less bleak.

---

They actually did it. Holy fuck. He'd been joking.

The crowd packed tight around the edges of the Great Hall, making Lyrith shift uncomfortably from all the murmuring and staring. Stares all focused on him and the gang, and the big dais the Guardians had set up in the center of the Great Hall, just like they'd done when they'd made their overly stupendous welcoming of him.

Only this time it wasn't just him walking up to the stage.

Not all of them could make it. Like Tirren. She'd be announced but would have it delivered to her after. Danrah and Vash also couldn't make it either, still grounded under lock and key and guard by their royal parents. It would be a wonder if their medals ever even reached them.

Judging from their parents' shouting, there would be no reward for their bravery. Their sacrifice.

Yet here he was.

Spyro and Cynder stood center stage, the Guardians flanking them, with a much smaller figure hunched between them, trying not to draw much attention to himself.

It'd taken weeks for the Temple to calm down enough for the sight of Savron not to incite panic. Even longer before the nobles stopped jabbering on about execution.

They still weren't happy and it still hadn't left their minds, but at least they finally shut the fuck up.

The medals for Vash were declared first, along with the medals for Tirren. Easily the longest list of them. The Emerald Scroll for advancing the good of the world with magic, the Ruby Heart for putting one's life on the line for the betterment of the world and an Amethyst Drake for sacrifice.

Though only one of the two got the latter. Only Tirren truly sacrificed anything.

Everyone else was set to get a Ruby Heart.

One by one they were called up. Voltlyn, Igneous, Sleet, Typhous, each stepping up onto the stage, to get a pat on the back, a pinned medal and a year long suspension from all Temple activities. A triumph they all 'earned.'

Not that it would get in the way of the studies that actually mattered. Aquina wasn't going to honour that, Tirren had her own lessons with Terrador and everyone else wanted to take a break, get away from the Temple for a while.

But it sent a message to everyone else.

Idiot students thinking they could try and mirror this 'success' saw the rehearsed, crestfallen expressions on each of Lyrith's friends as they realized they couldn't study at the Temple anymore and realized they'd probably get worse if they tried something like this for dumber reasons.

It was all very well put together. Especially because it did sting.

He was just finally starting to enjoy his classes here, despite everything he'd said to the Guardians.

It was good they took him as seriously as they had, else they might have followed through.

It was also good they took him seriously about this whole ceremony. About the medals, as much of a joke as it had been.

Everyone else deserved it.

Fortunately for Lyrith, the Guardians had left him for last, so it was easy to sneak away before anyone noticed. With no one left in the back room to keep an eye on him, it was as simple as walking out the other door then slipping into the empty halls and out a window to get some air.

He paused, only long enough to listen as Spyro and Cynder called out his name. Then again, and again after that, confusion filling their voices as he didn't show. Then he turned away from it all, to find somewhere private to lay low for a while.

Hopefully they gave the spare medal to Voltlyn. She deserved two with how hard she fought. How she managed, before anyone else, to keep Savron from giving the bastard what he wanted.

It was infinitely more than he'd accomplished.

With a hop he leapt from the window and took flight, soaring down to the Gardens below, out into the winter chill, away from anyone who might be searching for him.

Once this whole medal nonsense was over with he'd show up again. Until then… he needed some space.

Unfortunately, he wasn't given any.

He touched down, took a step towards the gardens, and promptly fell through his shadow.

And out of Savron's.

Lyrith landed head first, sprawled out in front of the amused purple dragon, vision spinning from the sudden tumble through the air.

And through the static in his ears, he heard Savron's incredulous laugh.

"Did you seriously just run out on me?"

Lyrith groaned, blinking away stars, the world spinning as he peered up, from the ground, at the purple drake standing above him, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Bit of a dick move, even for you."

On no. Lyrith was not going to endure a lecture about being a dick from Savron of all drakes.

"More so to abduct someone." Lyrith grumbled, crossing his forepaws over his chest, his red glare unyielding

Savron froze, then laughed again. Though it was a hollow laugh, empty save for a sparse jangle of mirth, his eyes dull. Or maybe… Lyrith peered closer, sure that, for just a moment, he saw the old sparkle in his eyes, like gold nuggets, all that remained of what once was a treasure trove of joy.

"Wouldn't call it that."

Lyrith flipped up and snorted, casting him a cutting side-wise glare. "Then what would you call a forced relocation of me to your room?"

Savron's smile widened and Lyrith caught the gleam again, a bit stronger than before.

"I'd call it a surprise invitation to a more personal celebration." He reached around, into a bag, and withdrew a gleaming ruby medal.

Lyrith groaned and shut his eyes.

"You didn't."

"Snagged it off of mom and dad when they went looking for you. They were really excited to pin it on you." Savron's smile faded a bit, brow furrowing. "They got pretty upset when they realized the stunt you pulled."

That was a given. But they had every right to be pissed at him.

It was everyone else who mattered.

"Pretty ballsy of you too, considering the stink you made about getting a medal."

Lyrith's jaw clenched tight. And there it was.

"You heard about that?"

"Everyone heard about that!"

Great. Just great. What were the odds everyone misinterpreted that too?

"Now take it." Savron pushed the pin forward, into Lyrith's chest, but when he let go, Lyrith didn't catch it, letting the ruby medal clink off the stone floor.

With a turn, Lyrith stepped right over it and opened the door. "Give it to Voltlyn." He said. "I don't need it."

Lyrith almost made it through the door before his shadow bottomed out again and he was falling, right into Savron's paws.

Savron, who gaped at him, as if he'd just offered to steal him some booze straight out of the Guardian's not-so-secret stash.

"Give it… to Voltlyn? Wait. Wait wait wait." Savron stepped between Lyrith and the door, as if that'd stop Lyrith from walking through it again. "You seriously don't want it? Why?"

Lyrith drew in a slow breath. It was going to be like this, huh? Lyrith turned, and then spoke very, very slowly, making sure each word got through Savron's thick skull.

"Because I never wanted one."

Savron's jaw nearly unhinged.

"You… didn't…" He shook his head, then laughed, a true sparkle having ignited in his eyes. "You know they really considered expelling you, right? For that stunt?"

"Yep."

He stared at Lyrith for a long moment, jaw hanging.

"You're insane."

At this point, Lyrith was half convinced himself. Only…

"No. Just stubborn." And with that, Lyrith pushed past Savron, to reach once more for the door.

Then Savron was in front of him again, pushing him back with a "Woah! Where do you think you're going?"

But apparently not as stubborn as Savron.

"To my room. I'm going to sleep."

"Then you're going to take this with you." And without a second of hesitation Savron pushed the medal into Lyrith's chest, and pinned it to his satchel.

Lyrith shut his eyes and took a long, deep breath.

Then he unpinned it. "No."

Savron's eyes flashed. "Yes."

And like that it was back on his satchel.

Lyrith's jaw clenched until it creaked. No.

"I don't want it."

"Too bad."

"The others deserve it more."

"You earned it."

"No I didn't!"

Savron leaped, jumping back as Lyrith whirled at him, fangs gnashing. There was a flash and Lyrith blinked, then froze. Savron stood on the other side of the room, back against the wall, eyes wide, crouched, wings held protectively between him and Lyrith.

For a moment they stood, staring at one another, and slowly Lyrith's glower faded, replaced by shock.

Was Savron afraid? Did… he just do that?

And like that, the bluster all blew out of him.

Slowly, Savron stood up, his panic fading, breath slowing, as Lyrith slumped against the door with a sigh.

"Fuck."

Savron sagged, then chuckled and glanced away. "Hehehehe… yeah… damnit…" Quiet fell, for a moment, but Savron didn't let it last for long. "You don't think you deserve it?"

Lyrith glanced away, shame tightening his chest. "I don't. There is no 'think' about it."

Savron scoffed, loud and harsh. "Moron."

Once more Lyrith's jaw clenched, but this time he controlled the rage that surged to the tip of his tongue. "I wasn't there."

Savron looked up, his wry smirk fading.

"I couldn't fight. I couldn't stop him." Lyrith turned, and took a shuddering breath. "I just sat there, helpless, while everyone risked their life to save you."

Savron stared, eyeridges going up and up and up as realization finally sank in, as he finally realized why.

Why he had to make sure everyone but him got the medal.

The medal for someone risking their life.

Lyrith sighed and turned to the door once more, tossing the medal down as he went. At least now he understood-

Wait, why was the pin back on his chest?

Savron stepped back, and smirked. "I will repeat: moron."

Lyrith snarled and reached for the pin, but Savron stopped him, grabbing his claw with his own.

"No. Stop that. Bad. You earned it."

Lyrith scoffed. "Didn't you listen-"

"I did… to everyone else." Savron reached forward and flicked Lyrith's nose, making him stumble back. "You may not have fought, but you got everyone chasing me down. That's enough to earn it in my books."

Lyrith stared, then snorted. He stepped back, out of Savron's reach and pulled the medal free once more. "Talking didn't put my life in danger. It put everyone else in danger. That's not worth a medal."

He reached forward and shoved it back into Savron, pushing him back. "Give it to someone else."

Savron blinked, then sighed. "You risked being expelled… and you risked him getting to you. You were there. Even though you didn't fight…"

"Voltlyn nearly lost a horn. Sleet lost a toe. And Tirren is still in the hospital." Lyrith snapped back "They risked everything. I couldn't even distract him." Lyrith turned and yanked the door open. "I didn't fight. So I don't deserve a reward."

Behind him, Savron sagged, and for a moment Lyrith was sure he'd given up, but right before Lyrith could step out, he spoke.

And Lyrith tripped.

"But if it hadn't been for you, I'd be gone."

Lyrith turned and stared, thoughts halting completely.

If… he hadn't…

"Even Igneous was ready to give up. At least, that's what he told me." Savron said, glancing away, his voice raw, eyes misted. "When they told me how it happened. He said he didn't know what to do. He didn't even know if I was me anymore. But you gave him hope. Even if you didn't fight. Even if you hadn't come… that means you saved my life, Lyr."

Lyrith's heart leapt, as Savron turned to him, eyes glistening, every word an open wound. "Maybe the others put their life on the line. Maybe they did more. Maybe not. But you still helped. You still saved me. You believed in me when nobody else did. That's more than…" He sniffed and shook his head. "But if you don't want it, that's fine." He turned and placed the medal upon his shelf, then turned to smile back at Lyrith, brighter and cheerier than Lyrith had seen in months. Or it would've been if it wasn't for the glisten in his eyes.

"It'll be right here for you when you feel you're worthy."

For a minute, Lyrith could only stare at that smile, at the joy that he'd once shared with everyone, but which had become so rare.

"Thanks." Lyrith bowed his head, as he stepped out through the door. "I'll… be back for it eventually. I just need some time."

"Well, nobody's taking it from here but you, so you'll have it." Savron replied, with a wave.

"Good. I trust you."

Savron choked, his eyes glimmering once more, but Lyrith shut the door before he could see more.

If nobody saw it, then nobody could prove Savron just cried.

---

"I told you it'd be alright."

Prophet's box rang as Spyro's paw struck it, sending reverberations throughout the great metal cube. A shockwave of rippling atoms, bouncing from one to another, a cascade of motion Prophet was helpless to stop from striking him, from ringing the small bones in his ears and creating the sensation of sound.

At least, what could be called 'sensation.' After all, it was truly nothing more than electrical impulses crackling along the wet neurons of the imperfect shell imprisoning his perfect mind.

And as the neurons zapped into place, the moist gray vessel that imprisoned his once transcendent consciousness figured out what was said and sent him the signal in the form of Spyro's voice, which came exactly 6,432.325798 years too late to be meaningful.

"You said he was beyond saving!"

Beyond saving? Oh the things people hear when anxious… and mislead.

Prophet, as required of him, chuckled. It was a dry sound, one carefully manufactured, designed to infuriate any subjected to it. Exactly as he needed to do.

"No." He said, mimicking the words he saw himself speak in the ideal future. "I said you wouldn't save him. I was very specific in my word choice."

Another blow. Spyro's paw was hurting but he was ignoring it. Adrenaline and rage numbed his pain. He'd regret it later, after his third strike. He'd try not to limp until he got back to his room, but that would only make it worse. Not even Cynder would be able to kiss it better tonight. But he would pretend. For her.

A tribe of moles just died in an unrelated earthquake. A father of seven dragons just brought back a flu that will kill off his whole family. The death of a noble's daughter will drive him to-

NO.

Prophet blinked, shutting his eyes of past and future, forcing himself to focus on the now. On the angry purple in front of him. On things he could actually influence.

Spyro had just said something and was waiting for an answer. Something Prophet's meat-sock of a brain missed. With a sigh, Prophet opened his yellow eye and peered into the past, tuned his ears and listened.

"You tricked us. You said it to make us think he was beyond saving! We almost let our friends kill him!"

Ah. Right. That accusation. So this was when it happens.

Prophet inhaled, filling his lungs with molecules that fueled his worthless body and then exhaled out the words he watched himself speak through his red eye of the future.

"I motivated you two. To get you both exactly where you needed to be to put events into motion."

"To nearly get two students killed!" Shouted one of the guardians. The blue one, who really wasn't all that important.

"And your 'plan' put several others in mortal danger!" Spyro agreed, slamming his paw against the box a last third time. The time he'd truly regret. Delicate bones cracked and he pulled back, wincing, biting down on a hiss to try and appear stoic and strong. To show pointless resolve to the world, to show that he felt no pain. The others believed.

Not Prophet. No, Prophet grit his teeth, hissing out the pain Spyro did not, as his paw momentarily ached. At least, until he turned his green eye of mind away from Spyro.

"But they succeeded." Prophet said, following the course his future sight showed.

There were brambles along this path now, but in the long run, he'd avoid the chasm.

"And," he continued, cutting them off before they could speak, "they all came out alive. Which is better than if they had not gone."

Spyro opened his mouth but froze before he could speak. His soul twisted, mortified at the notion, and, as was required of him, Prophet glanced back with his green eye, to peer into Spyro's thoughts, both past, present and future.

They'd have died if they didn't… was Savon going to go back and… no. NO! He's lying again!

Prophet sighed, shutting his eyes once more. But only for a moment.

He could never keep them shut for long.

For then he could not focus.

"This is the ideal path, Spyro," Prophet said, only to blink, surprising himself with the emotion he put into the words. A break in the path suddenly manifested. A small break. Not one that diverted the road, that sent all tumbling into the chasm, but an alternative path towards the end, a short detour paved with different words.

One that promised a smoother path… only to fall into thicker thorns. A oath that would, ultimately, make things just a little bit worse.

The purple spoke first, and Prophet found himself at that fork, with a decision to be made.

"How?" Spyro growled. "My son could've died? Tirren raped? The kids dead or broken? If that's your consolation, shove it. You put them there. You sent Savron down the war path when you could've told us about the thing in the crystal!

For a moment Prophet hesitated. The path, tried and true, the one he'd seen a million times before, the one he'd tread over and over with the smoothest result at the end. Some sharp words, a laugh, some mocking, Spyro's fury, a storm of swears and then silence as they flew off. Spite and anger and hate towards him. Hate and anger which his wife would sooth, which he'd vent and feel better, which would then let him go play with his son, develop bonds that had been broken, help heal the child so that he could be the hero the world needed alongside his parents.

Or…

It wouldn't work. It wouldn't make things better. It'd only make them worse. But still…

Maybe…

Prophet inhaled, and gave it a try.

Worst case, it would ruin Spyro's night. But maybe… this time, he'd be wrong.

"Spyro."

Spyro and the Guardians outside started at his voice, at the sincerity he put into it. Emotions which Prophet had to dredge up from the depths of his soul, hauled up out of the mire of endless memory and vision and portent, sunk so deep even he barely knew where to find it anymore.

"If there was another way." Prophet said, deviating from his set path, pushing every bit of regret he had into the words, trying to make Spyro understand, believe.

Trying to fight his way through a new path, one he hoped he could find some way through without tangling himself up in the brambles and thorns. To find a secret path through that even his vision couldn't spot.

"But there wasn't. There isn't. If I had told you, nothing good would've come of it. You would have either driven your son away, or been forced to fight that creature alone." The Prophet focused all four of his eyes upon Spyro, his jaw set, serious. "And you would have perished."

The Guardians all froze, and Spyro's eyes went wide.

And so, Prophet continued, forging ahead, trying to ignore the looming thorns, so much thicker than the ones on the path he just diverted from.

"And with your death, so many more would've died… including your son."

Believe.

"You may not like it." Prophet voice trembled, a genuine hitch breaking his words. "You… you may not like me for forcing you down it, but I am trying to do what's best for not only you, but the world."

And for a moment, a single, sublime moment, he saw it, a flicker, a moment of thought and understanding. A split second of Spyro on the verge of sympathy.

And for that second, Prophet let himself hope.

But it only lasted a second.

Spyro's face hardened, his mind, disturbed by the suggestion, solidified, crystalizing into jagged edges of rage.

"So you're doing this for the greater good?"

Prophet inhaled, then sagged, as Spyro began, just like he'd foreseen. Just like he'd hoped he'd somehow avoid, like he'd somehow change the outcome.

And the thorns grew thick along the path ahead and all Prophet could do was brace himself for what was to come.

"You taunt and bully and threaten and lie for the 'greater good?' Is that it?!"

'Greater good.' There was nothing greater, or good, about what he had to do. The opportunity for that had passed long ago, when he was first locked in this cell. Now he just worked with what he had.

But Prophet said nothing. He'd already spoken too much. To say more was to invite greater anger, greater misunderstanding and more pain in the long run.

They weren't willing to listen. There were no words that could convince them today.

The Guardians joined in, their voices united in anger and righteous but pointless philosophical rhetoric. An utter misunderstanding of what makes right and wrong and a thorough display of their own self importance.

Prophet listened to none of them, for their words did not matter. Only his silence mattered, only the catharsis they had in beating him, at silencing him. At 'winning.' It would make him more approachable in the future, make him someone they could 'defeat,' soften the road he had to walk from broken glass to mere jagged rocks. It will let him approach them from a different angle next time, with greater success… not that they will listen then either. But bit by bit… talk by talk, one day he will get across what needed to be done. And they would finally listen.

It will be too late to be truly meaningful, but it would happen before the point of no return.

The Guardians turned to leave and Spyro struck the box a fourth time. Prophet winced as the crack became a break.

The thickest of the brambles. Savron would be getting no comfort from his father tonight, delaying his recovery.

Spyro cursed and pulled back. And still Prophet said nothing. Let the purple burn his own rage out. Do not add fuel to the flame. The Guardians came and helped him, healing him a bit with some life crystals before flying him away. And not once did Prophet speak. Not after his mistake.

He should've just told them to 'fuck off.' He should've just stayed the enemy. The cruel seer who tormented with terrible truths, but was to be taken seriously when he himself turned serious.

How many times did he have to learn this lesson? How many times did he have to remind himself that his visions were never wrong? This was the best path for a reason. It didn't matter what anyone thought of him. It didn't matter what suffering he inflicted in the short term. How many children he put at risk, how many dragonesses nearly raped, how many people sacrificed so that others may live.

In the end, the world would be better off.

After all, there would still be a world for others to live on.

Why try and change what is to come? Why look for other solutions? Hadn't he exhausted all other possibilities millennia ago?

Just follow the path. Things will eventually be better.

Events were in motion. Countless were set to die. Society to crumble. The Dark Prince was here and only Prophet's enemies knew or cared.

And the only ones who could stop it would not.

Doom was fast approaching. The vision he'd seen since the beginning crested above like a tidal wave, with only the meager defenses Prophet had been able to set in place to break its advance.

The world would be left cracked and crumbling once more. But it would still be there. It could still be repaired.

That, above all else, was better than the alternative.

Even if no one ever knew.

Except the people he wanted to know least.

"Did someone actually win an argument against you?"

Prophet sighed and opened his eyes, to look through the slat at his most recent owners.

Mirrolus and Shimaria stared back at him, along with their stooge Lumos, amusement and surprise colouring all their faces.

Expressions he enjoyed wiping away.

"I let them. It serves the plan better."

They all glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. "Right." Mirrolus replied with a grimace. "Now if you're done 'setting things into motion' we need a chat."

"No you don't."

With that, Prophet shut the slat and turned away, to curl up in the corner of his cell in an act of petty defiance.

Petty, meaningless defiance. They held his leash and he would come when they pulled. No matter how hard he dug in his heels.

They struck the box themselves now, banging on it, the sound reverberating throughout. The latch didn't stay shut either, as they opened it to let light stream in. He resisted for as long as he could, but once they activated the curse, he had no choice but to turn and face them, magic forcing him up, forcing his tongue. Forcing him to answer their inane, selfish questions.

But he decided to do it before they even spoke them. Or thought them. Or could stop him from saying what needed to be said.

"No." He croaked to the three of them. "Savron won't fall again. Not unless you fail spectacularly."

Mirrolus choked on Prophet's words, but before he could splutter out a response Prophet whirled to Shimaria, his gaze sharp and focused as a needle. "Tell them what you should've told them at the beginning, Shimaria. It's your inept reluctance that dooms your cause."

Shimaria recoiled and Prophet then turned to Lumos to grind just a bit of salt into all their wounds. To answer a question he would never speak aloud. "No, you will never impress her, Lumos. Also she's too young for you, you slimy arrogant creep."

And finally to Mirrolus… oh Mirrolus.

It was finally time he could say the full truth. "And yes," Prophet said, his voice trembling. "He is who you think he is. You failed and because of you Warfang will drown in blood."

And with that he turned away, slamming the slat shut and curling back up in the corner of his barren cell.

They left in a fit, arguing and bickering and threatening each other, Mirrolus and Lumos at each other's throats, exactly where they should be. And for a moment Prophet actually hoped he drove them off and refused to peer into the future and let himself be disappointed.

But, as always, he was disappointed anyway.

Shimaria stopped just at the edge of the camp clearing, before doubling back to speak to him again, pulling the latch open once more.

"You know, we're on the same side," Shimaria said, halfway sincere, though the bitter acid of her anger tainted it beyond repair, "if you played along and were a bit nicer, we wouldn't have to do it this way."

And though he saw it coming, though he knew years in advance how this conversation would go, nothing prepared him for the surge in his chest as he finally heard those words.

Be… nicer?

He should be nicer?!

Prophet grit his teeth, rage trembling through him as she turned and stormed off, left to the safety of her tent where his retort would never reach her, walking freely, to go wherever might comfort her best.

And he should be nicer?

Why? Why should he have to play along, have to bow and scrape and beg for people to hear him? Listen to him? To give him any damned courtesy!

Why should he have to endure this? Grains of sand lording over him like they ruled the beach. Tormenting him with endless questions about their short and meaningless lives. How they think the world should be saved, about how pathetic he was for ending up in this cursed box! As if he had any choice in the matter! As if he hadn't spent centuries avoiding it! Dodging capture for as long as possible, maximizing his time free until the inevitable happened!

How dare they. How dare they demand he be kind, that he cater to their over-inflated egos! How dare they demand he fix all their problems like he owed them. How dare they, when they kept him in this box. Used him like a tool. Forced him to watch the world burn while lives he could've saved were snuffed out.

A cheetah cub starved alone in an alley, her tummy hurting so much. Her last thoughts were of her mom.

A mole and his son chipped away at a load bearing stone, the mine about to collapse. They'd get no funeral.

A young dragon with a talent for painting teetered at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump, heart aching, needing only a few kind words to heal. This time he won't open his wings.

Be kind.

What did they know?

With a sigh Prophet curled up in his cell, and shut his eyes.

The visions didn't stop. They never stopped. But at least this way he could forget, for a time. This way he could lose the individuality he'd fought so hard to develop and had come to regret so, so much. Yes. Lose himself in the endless stream of lives, the trillions upon trillions of creatures past, present and future. Lose himself so that he could live their lives instead.

At least a few of them were happy.

But it was the lives of his owners he relished the most, taking joy in watching their dreams crumble. Reveling in reliving their excruciating deaths over and over and over…

Until they woke him up again for another day of interrogation that helped no one but themselves.

Prophet turned his gaze skyward as they began, asking after their latest target, and Prophet smiled as, above, he foresaw a figure flying through the sky unseen, following a trail of darkness towards the mountains.

At least one thing would go right today.

---

Dardarax's Characters

Lyrith, Savron, Tirren, Igneous, Typhous, Voltlyn, Wintra, Thunder, Danrah, Vash, Sleet

Inferna, Aephion, Aquina

Geocia

Shimaria, Mirrolus, Lumous

Prophet

This took far, far longer than I was expecting.

Though to be fair, I wasn't expecting to move to my own place so soon, or how little time I'd have to write while learning how to live on my own while also holding a full time job.

So... yeah. That's my excuse. Ignore the fact that I didn't move until April when my last upload was a few months before that... and that most of chapter was done for months and only held back by a single scene I had to re-write. Yeah. Moving was definitely the only reason this took so long... not burn out...

I still plan on writing more in the future now though. I'm' getting used to all the work and I think I will be able to find more time now. And I'm also excited. DL 2 is done. The Epilogue was written months ago, and it's the only thing left for me to publish. And that means I can start to work on DL 3, the last installment of Dark Legacy, which contains most of what I've been building up to for all these years.

A lot of it has changed. In very significant ways. But all for the better. I'm so excited to share the final result of all these years of planning.

But first, the upcoming Epilogue, one of the chapters I'm most proud of.

Proud enough that I'm planning on doing a live reading of it next week, right before it's published, on October 9th.

Yes, the next update is in a week. DL 3 will probably be a few months in the making after that, but DL 2's epilogue will be in a week.

If you want to hear the live reading, join my discord, where I plan on hosting it! I'll be keeping a close eye on my reviews and comments for this week to make sure as many people get into my discord as want to. I haven't been as good at that as I'd like in the past while, but this coming week, I will be.

Anyway, I should cut this ramble of an Author's note short. It's almost as long as a section of this chapter!

I'll see you all in a week!

PS. DL 2's Epilogue will be live read at October 9th, 1pm Pacific Daylight Time. Join us on my discord to listen in! It'll be posted immediately following the live reading.