It had only been a couple of days, now. Bergan finally had the will and fortitude to make his venture out into the depths of the mushroom forest. Many back in Faeshrine questioned why the purple drake, the fabulously-wealthy head of a merchant empire, would travel so deep into the forest. But he had to. He couldn't get what he'd seen out of his mind…

He had to see it for himself… no matter how badly he didn't want to.

Bergan's carriage made its way quietly through the forest in the dead of night. The purple drake sighed as he waited for the coachman, a cheetah, to bring him to the destination. It was a very esoteric location, with an even more esoteric path marked upon a map Bergan had to craft especially for this journey. He needed to be sure that nobody… unsavory followed him, coming OR going.

Eventually, the carriage arrived at the edge of Bergan's ultimate destination. The coachman hopped down, walked around, and pulled the door open. Bergan slipped on one of his sets of robes and pull the hood down over his face. He then very carefully stepped out of the carriage and stopped before the cheetah with a solemn face.

"Make sure that you stay hidden." Bergan whispered. "There's no telling how the survivors will react to you."

"Understood, Sir." The cheetah whispered and bowed his head. Bergan smiled and patted the coachman on the shoulder, before walking around the side of a mushroom to make his way toward… oh, it was hard to describe what he saw.

It was the deepest, darkest part of the mushroom forest; at least twenty miles west of the Ancient Grove. The mushroom caps kept the sky hidden from view, not that one could see much through the fog of dark clouds. It would be a foreboding place for any dragon. But for Bergan… he'd dreaded coming upon this place for a long time.

And there, in the middle of a ring of destroyed mushrooms… were the remains of The Hive.

Just a couple of days ago, this mysterious city was hidden away in the clouds, away from the prying eyes of the dragon realms. But now it was a ruin. Smoke rose up from fires that were only recently put out. Dozens of stone buildings and structures lay destroyed in a million fragments in a wide radius. Many dragons were gathered up and wrapped for burial in a mass grave to the east. And the few survivors… oh, Bergan could hardly look at them.

Bergan sucked in a breath as he kept his hood pulled over his head. He walked quietly and calmly through the group, doing his best to keep himself scarce. Bergan gnashed his fangs as he heard over a hundred sorrowful voices crying out in pain. So many were lost; fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers… friends, rivals, beggars and nobles… many had been SNUFFED OUT, and barely anyone was left to bury them.

So much pain… Bergan knew it all too well. How many times had he wandered through the aftermath of a great battle during that war? How many times had he been too late to save someone? And how many times… had the victims' woes been blamed on his failure to predict the outcomes? Bergan stopped in his tracks balled his paw into a fist within his pocket. He then shook his head to shake the dreadful thoughts away.

Focus on the NOW, Bergan. He told himself. Focus on finding… her.

Bergan had a feeling that he knew where to look; the northernmost section of the ruins. He hadn't seen any of a certain sect of dark dragons… which meant they were tending to their king. The purple drake picked up the pace, though still did his best to hide from the civilians.

As he made his way north, he looked around at the buildings one last time. He spotted one of the few buildings that had managed to survive the devastation of colliding with the ground. It was a chapel; small and humble in design, with a black roof and a simple bell tower. How curious it was to Bergan, that something so simple could survive such rampant destruction without a scratch when other, bulkier buildings collapsed into ruin. Bergan would have to ponder its secrets… someday.

Just to the north of the ruins of The Hive, there was a little clearing made between a pair of destroyed mushrooms. Several dragons were arranged in a row. One of them, a dragoness, stood clutching a small black dragon cub in her embrace. She was whispering softly to the cub as he cried against her chest. Most of the other dragons held their heads low, as candles were arranged about the area. And the loudest voice among them… was a wailing black dragon. The newly crowned King Baneth.

The closer Bergan got to the scene, the more dread built up in his chest. No… No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be real. He'd known now more than ever that there were different paths to the future… different outcomes, with different likelihoods. Please… please don't let THAT vision be true…

Snap

Bergan realized all too late that he'd walked in the path of a twig of some kind. He sighed as he heard multiple Deep Shadows whirling around and springing into battle stances.

"Who goes there?!" Demanded a rather gruff voice.

Bergan sighed as he casually stepped out from his hiding place. "An old friend of the royal family."

There were several gasps, much to Bergan's lamentation; it was so rare for anyone outside of Faeshrine to be happy to see him. He just took a calm breath as he lifted up his hood to gaze around at the Deep Shadows.

"Good evening." He said briskly.

"What are you doing here?!" The gruff voice from before demanded. The drake pulled back their hood. Bergan had to do a double-take at first; he recognized the grizzled jawline of Grail, but a large chunk of gauze had been wrapped along the left side of his face.

"Oh, dear." Bergan pursed his lips. "Good to, err, see you again, Grail. But I could have sworn you'd retired."

The drake blew smoke from his nostrils and stepped closer. He didn't look like he was in the mood for bantering.

"Get out of here." Grail snarled. "We're not in the mood for any blathering words of a miserable miscreant like YOU."

The other Deep Shadows seemed keen on joining Grail on huffing and snarling at Bergan; a couple of them even seemed ready for a fight. But Bergan just sighed again and stood his ground.

"Where is she?" Bergan asked seriously. "Where is Elenar?"

Grail continued to growl, while the other Deep Shadows were hushed into silence. There was a cold breeze in the air now; Bergan could feel chills along his spine. No… please, no…

"Let him through." Came the miserable voice of Baneth from the front of the group.

All eyes were upon Baneth; the black dragon finally forced himself to stand tall, but he didn't dare look away from the stone altar that loomed before him. At once, the Deep Shadows relaxed their stances and backed out of the way… save for Grail, who shook in place.

"Baneth…" Grail turned to look at the young king with his good eye. "He doesn't deserve to see her."

"Just… let him through." The king said again, with a palpable air of misery. "He… he deserves to pay his respects."

Bergan's eyes twitched. No… no no no…

Bergan forced himself to march forward with his chest puffed out. He walked around the side of Grail and approached the altar. Along the way, he noticed one of the female Deep Shadows standing a short distance from the altar. She had a miserable expression… but not quite the same kind of misery that Baneth had. Her face was familiar, too…

"Dona?" Bergan asked softly. "You're a Deep Shadow, now?"

Dona simply hissed at Bergan and then turned her back to him. She fanned out her wings and snarled as she marched forward into the forest. Bergan just sighed; Same old Dona.

Eventually, Bergan stepped before a rotund stone altar erected from the ground via earth magic. And splayed out on that altar, covered in a black cloth and sealed within a barrier of glass, was…

Bergan felt his heart ache. He forced himself to look away from the… the… It could hardly even recognize her. Those burns, those wounds… what had they DONE to her?! This couldn't be real. This couldn't have happened to her!

Bergan noticed a small plaque carved into the front of the altar. It said:

Here lies Elenar:

Born in 113 N.A.

Died in 144 N.A.

Beloved Queen of the dark dragons

She was a friend, wife, sister, and mother.

Her body may be gone, but her spirit lingers on.

Bergan froze in place. He read the plaque, again and again, half-hoping that he'd read it wrong. But no, it was as plain as day. Of all the different courses through time. Of all the myriad ways that events could have taken place… why did THIS have to be the winning outcome? What did Bergan do wrong that led to this happening? How… Why…?

Bergan couldn't keep his composure any longer. He collapsed onto the ground and put his forepaws over his eyes. He writhed and shook on the ground as he struggled to hold back tears.

No… No no no… Bergan gnashed his fangs as a few tears fell. It couldn't have happened this way. Not her… NOT HER!

Bergan struggled not to cry. He couldn't let himself cry, no matter how much it hurt. All Bergan wanted was to be with Elenar. But at every turn, he was denied the chance to be with her. Politics, Personal grudges, and cowardice had torn the two of them apart for years. And now, Elenar was permanently stripped from Bergan's embrace because of… off…

Richteriel.

Instantly, Bergan's sadness was gone… and replaced with a burning fire. The purple drake dug his talons into the dirt as a growl rose in his throat.

Of course. It was Richteriel. It HAD to be Richteriel. Who else was in command of the Order of Culmubrae? Bergan growled as a shiver ran from head to tail. The Order… they'd gone too far this time. And by those accursed ancestors that Richteriel revered so much, Bergan was going to see to it that…

Wait. No. Bergan didn't have the means to take on the whole Order. If he made the wrong move, then they'd descend upon Faeshrine in a heartbeat. And that's just what they wanted; a chance to do away with the heathen and his city of forbidden pleasures.

Bergan sucked in a breath and raised his head up high. Anger and Sadness were pushed out of his mind, to be replaced by his calm nonchalance.

"Might I have a moment in the woods with the high king?" He asked calmly.

"And just what exactly do you plan to do with our new king?" Grail demanded.

"I just want to talk to him." Bergan declared as he turned in the direction of the still-grieving Baneth. "There's something we need to discuss."

"Oh no, you don't." Grail glowered. "There's no way I'm letting the new high king wander off alone in the forest with the likes of YOU." He spat on the ground somewhere behind the purple drake. "Arrogant Amethyst!"

Bergan took a deep breath and then turned to glare into the General's singular eye.

"What do you think I intend to DO, Grail?" Bergan hissed. "Do you think I'm going to kill him? Or gloat in his face over the deaths of so many dragons?" he made a gesture around at the ruins just due south. "You think I'm happy about any of this? About the many lives LOST because of other dragons' pride and treachery?!"

Grail squinted his eye and then puffed out his chest. "You KNEW this was going to happen."

"Perhaps I did…" Bergan said. "I see many visions of the future, General."

"You knew, and you did NOTHING to stop it!" Grail gnashed his fangs. "You could have warned us, but you did NOTHING!"

"Warned you? WARNED YOU?!" Bergan blew purple flames from his nostrils. "I was all but EXILED from The Hive by your oh-so-delightful King Alexander. I tried sending messages to King Urobos, and the rest of the royal family. But I'm guessing they were either intercepted or incinerated because nobody EVER got around to messaging me back!"

He stamped his forepaw and stepped closer to Grail.

"I want you to tell me something plainly and clearly, General!" Bergan roared. "Whose fault is it that the warnings were IGNORED?! Whose fault is it that hundreds of dragons are DEAD?! Who is the one who was ARROGANT about the future?!"

Grail gave the nastiest, angriest growl he possibly could. He leaned his head back to rally the Deep Shadows with an order to attack. Bergan braced himself, preparing to call upon time magic to get himself out of there…

"ENOUGH!" Cried the miserable voice of Baneth. "Don't defile her resting place!"

Bergan's eyes widened, and he immediately stopped himself. Grail seemed stunned as well, and he quickly coughed and backed up a bit. Both of them turned toward Baneth, who was finally picking himself up off the ground.

"Bergan… I'll talk with you, in private." The black dragon said without looking over at him. "Let's… Let's just go and get it over with."

"What?!" Grail whirled around to balk at Baneth. "You can't be serious."

"Stand down, General." Baneth said with a cold glare. "That's an order."

The General stammered incredulously, and then just sneered and stepped off to the side. Bergan held a triumphant grin and then looked over at Baneth to thank him… only to see the sad, resigned state in Baneth's eyes.

"Once you're done with me, Bergan, then… just leave." Baneth sighed. "I'm sorry, but there are too many here who hate you, still. It's best to just make this quick."

Bergan huffed in frustration. He hated to admit it, but Baneth was right. So, after glowering at Grail once more, who was stunned into silence. The purple drake stepped around the General and made his way toward Baneth. The two then walked together between a pair of mushrooms, leaving the Deep Shadows behind to tend to Elenar's funeral.

~~…~~

Bergan had to admit; when they got away from all the misery and woe of the funeral, the forest finally had some kind of calm and peace to it. And now that they were away from everyone else, Bergan could finally let himself grieve. Elenar… dear, beloved Elenar…

Bergan came to a stop in the middle of a patch of grass, and Baneth stopped beside him. The two of them gazed up through the caps of the mushrooms. There, in the middle of a patch of dark clouds, was a small glimmer of the night sky. Stars glistened in the heavens; the dragon constellation was just barely visible. The universe was so vast… but for a moment, it wasn't nearly as vast as the misery that these two dragons felt.

Baneth, Bergan… both of them loved Elenar with everything they had. Bergan struggled to keep his composure as tears poured down his face. He held his breath and did his best to keep his misery in control.

But Baneth… Baneth was a wreak. The black dragon fell to the ground and tore at the grasp with his talons. He cried quietly to himself; it looked like he wanted to howl into the heavens, but perhaps that would alert the Deep Shadows into thinking that Bergan had attacked him. Bergan sighed; such a dear friend.

As Bergan struggled to keep himself from doing the same as Baneth, his mind raced with vengeful, furious thoughts. Bergan wanted to unleash his anger. He wanted to do away with the bastards who had wronged him for so long. But not… Bergan couldn't let his talons get bloody again. He needed another way… another means of hurting the Order.

He looked down at the grieving king… and formulated a plan.

"You know who did this, Baneth." Bergan said sternly.

"What?" The black dragon asked. He wiped the tears from his muzzle before rising to stand before Bergan. "What do you mean?"

Bergan gnashed his fangs as he grasped Baneth by the shoulder. He spoke in a harsh whisper with a furious glare.

"Richteriel."

Baneth's eyes went wide. "R… Richteriel?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Bergan demanded. "He's betrayed you. He's betrayed ALL of the dark dragons. Just like he betrayed me."

"No…" Baneth's breathing became erratic, and he backed up against a tree. "No… No, Richteriel couldn't be the one responsible. He was my father's trusted advisor for years! He looked after both of us when we were children!"

"Times change, Baneth." Bergan scowled. "His heart has turned cold and hard… just like the little rocks he's so adept and creating. But this is no time for puns…" He stepped closer to the king and wracked his talons upon the side of a mushroom stalk. "Richteriel did this in an attempt to you, your family, and every single dark dragon who lived in The Hive."

Baneth's eyes widened, and his muzzle turned pale. He backed up against another mushroom stalk and shivered as he tried to process what Bergan was saying. He snapped and almost called Bergan a liar… but he knew Bergan was no liar.

"I have had to keep some rather… loose ties with Richteriel, Baneth." Bergan sighed. "I am privy to knowledge that few others ever get to know. I've kept quiet on certain things in order to keep the people of Faeshrine safe… but now…" He blew small bits of smoke from his nostrils. "Richteriel has gone too far. And he thinks he's won, Baneth. He thinks he's wiped the bloodline of Spyro and Cynder off the face of the dragon realms."

"But… Why?" Baneth asked as his face became a mask of despair. "Why would he betray us? What did we ever do Richteriel?"

"You existed." Bergan held a solemn face. Baneth balked, while the purple drake shook his head. "He simply hates you, Baneth. He hates all dark dragon kind, and wants to purge the whole world of your people."

Baneth looked as horrified and miserable as any grieving dragon could ever be. He nearly collapsed once more as he cupped his forepaws to his face. Perhaps it was to cry once more or to try and contemplate everything Bergan had told him. But there was no time for that; Bergan needed to stir this grieving drake into the proper king he needed to rise up.

"All hope's not lost, old friend." Bergan patted Baneth on the shoulder once more.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Baneth asked.

"There's plenty of salvageable materials from the wreckage of The Hive." Bergan declared. "I can arrange to help you construct a new home for the survivors of the disaster."

"That… That would help is immensely…" Baneth stood up taller and sucked in a breath. "Bergan… I thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet, old friend." Bergan chuckled. "That was only the tip of the iceberg for what I can do for you."

"What?" Baneth asked cautiously. The purple drake gave a polite bow to the black one as he leaned in a bit closer.

"Here, let me show you something…"

Bergan reached into the confines of his robes and fished around in a pocket. Baneth tilted his head curiously as the purple drake carefully pulled out a small, crystal ball. The black dragon tensed up; he'd only vaguely known about the magical properties those orbs contained.

"Wh… What's in the future, Bergan?" Baneth asked worriedly.

"Just calm down, and let the visions take hold…"

The clouds beneath the surface of the crystal began to shift and rumble. Baneth locked his eyes upon the sphere, and the irises widened as the visions flowed into his mind…

He saw the twin moons, high up in the heavens above the city of Warfang. They were far, far away from each other, as they usually were. Then night time over the city turned to day… and the day turned to night. The moons began to drift. Night, day, night, day... they passed by each other faster and faster. Soon, the shift between day and night grew so sudden that the heavens appeared to erupt with chaos. And through it all, the two moons came closer and closer as they passed each other in the distance. But soon, after countless days… the moons were close together. They were surrounded by a surreal, unearthly glow… and the stars began to die out.

Soon, the visions faded away, and Baneth found himself standing in the forest once again. He shivered from horns to tail-tip, and he held a hand against his heart.

"Frightening to behold, wasn't it?" Bergan asked as he put the crystal ball down. "I couldn't sleep for a week after seeing it the first time."

"What was that?" Baneth exclaimed.

"That, my old friend, was the Night of Eternal Darkness." Bergan said.

"Eternal darkness?" Baneth repeated incredulously. The purple drake stepped up and placed a forepaw upon the king's shoulder.

"Six years from now, the moons will be in perfect alignment in the heavens." Bergan said carefully. "There will be an eclipse the likes of which hasn't been seen for over a hundred and fifty years. And when that time comes…" Bergan slightly shivered. "…the light dragons all throughout the world will be drained of all their power. And your power, as well as ALL dark dragons… will become filled with strength and might beyond anything you've ever known before."

"Six years…" Baneth repeated. He dug his talons into the ground and rumbled in frustration. "And you would have me wait six years before bringing Richteriel to justice?"

"Yes." Bergan said flatly.

"There's no telling what Richteriel could do with Warfang in that time!" Baneth exclaimed. "If he's truly responsible for attacking The Hive… if he could find out hidden city… then he could be hunting down all the other dark dragons!" Baneth extended his wings. "They could all be tracked down and slain by the time the eclipse arrives!"

"He won't." Bergan shook his head. Baneth was about to ask how the purple dragon could know that, so Bergan held up his crystal ball and raised an eye ridge. "Did you happen to see any visions of dark dragons being slaughtered all across the realms prior to the eclipse?"

"I…" Baneth folded in his wings. "Well… I suppose I didn't."

Bergan gave a quick chuckle, but then put on a serious face. "Don't try to fight Richteriel just yet, Baneth. It wouldn't go well."

"So that's it, then?" Baneth demanded. "I'm to stand completely still for six years?"

"Of course not." Bergan shook his head. "There's much work for you, in fact."

Baneth eyed Bergan curiously, while the purple drake clasped his forepaws together.

"Bide your time, Baneth." Bergan continued. "You have a long time before your full vengeance can be claimed. Your people are weakened, some still grieving. You must be strong." He patted Baneth on the shoulder once more. "Organize them. Rebuild what you can. And train dragons to prepare for battle in the future. You still have your Deep Shadows. Make the most of them, as any good high king should. And most importantly…" Bergan looked Baneth in the eyes. "You need convexity."

Baneth's eyes widened again. "Convexity?"

"I know that your father told you to abandon your plan to use those crystals to empower yourself…" Bergan tapped his talons on his crystal. "But times have grown grim. You need their power and further knowledge on the darker secrets of draconian spells." The purple drake flapped his wings. "Seek out what little crystals you have, and set to work on a larger plan to grant yourself and your army the power you need to reclaim Warfang from the Order of Culmubrae."

"Order of… Culmubrae?" Baneth repeated.

"That is the name of the group of Elders and Guardians who secretly strive to eliminate all traces of dark dragons." Bergan said with a sneer. "They all serve Richteriel and are spread out all across the dragon realms. I don't have a full list of names… but they're more numerous than you might think."

"I see…" Baneth said with a shiver. The black king began to cry again, but he sucked in his breath and wiped his face, before standing up taller. After another breath, the king put on the most serious face he could. "You're right, Bergan: I have much to do. If there are that many dragons who seek to do away with my bloodline… then I'll do everything in my power to make them PAY."

"Of course I'm right." Bergan smiled. He stepped a few paces back and bowed his head before Baneth. "But I do have a simple, humble request."

"Oh?" Baneth raised an eye ridge. "What is it that you want?"

"The promise that the people of Faeshrine will be spared your wrath." Bergan said. "They've done nothing to hurt you, Baneth. And on top of that, Faeshrine is the current home of Elenar's daughter."

Baneth flinched; in all of his current grief and anger, he'd nearly forgotten about Elenar's eldest child. He looked at Bergan with an uneasy face and brought his voice to a whisper.

"How is she?"

"She's quite alright, Baneth." Bergan nodded. "She won't be happy when she learns the truth… but she'll endure it."

"Very well…" Baneth took a deep breath. "Faeshrine will be spared any trouble that comes after I take Warfang… for the sake of Elenar's daughter."

"You're so very kind, High King Baneth." Bergan bowed his head again. He then put his crystal ball away and patted the black dragon's shoulder once again. "We'd best be off. You have your duties, and I have mine."

"Right…" Baneth nodded. He turned to follow behind Bergan as the two of them walked back to the south.

There was much to do after that night; plans, schemes, and dreams of rebuilding things that both of them had lost.

It would be years before their work was brought to fruition. But while one dreamed of seeking vengeance for the wrongs dealt to his family… the other dreamed of a new world. A better world. A world that flowed with rivers of magical power.

Bergan never forgot his visions… and soon, all who doubted him would regret it.

~~…~~

Greetings, friends and loved ones.

I'm back from my break, and ready to get into the heat of writing out big, fantastical chapters in Act Three. There's a lot of… stupid stuff that I wrote in the original version nearly ten years ago. But the time has finally come to rectify my mistakes. Here's hoping you enjoy what's to come!

Tenebra ecce Veritas