Note: Sorry for the long wait. Personal life and all that. Plus, I've been working on my designs for all the dragon OCs in this story (Dream Weavers are done by the way and are posted on my DeviantArt, FurAffinity and Weasyl - links are on my profile), so bear with me.

Plenty of words fit Spyro.

Where to start? Brave for sure. Reckless. Kind. Sassy definitely. Selfless. Mischievous. One could go on and on.

'Curious' applied here, though, because who could blame him? Not every day you got to find out about a long-lost dragon clan not being so lost anymore.

He and Elora were sitting with Nestor in a circle beneath a tree atop one of the grassy hills overlooking Sunny Flight's island and ocean, the distant sound of trains thrumming in the background. Sparx rested easy from his perch on Spyro's head, attentive and listening.

Nestor, seeing he had the young ones' focus, cleared his throat. "The Ecologists stand out amongst the other dragon clans in that they dabble in something the rest of us do not: technology. While we channel our energy towards more traditional pursuits such as art and sorcery, they focus on progress by seeking not just knowledge but its proper application to benefit the world at large."

Progress and knowledge? Elora pursed her lips as these two words tumbled in her mind. "So, they're scientists just like the Professor."

Spyro nodded in agreement, way more than fascinated. Dragon scientists: now there's a concept he wanted to sink his teeth into.

"In a general sense, yes," Nestor continued, "but much more than that. Their founder, Volteer," the green dragon gestured a hand to everything around them, "believed that all life connects. Our clans, the elements: no one truly stands alone. The Ecologists' way of life revolves around proving that very truth."

At Elora's puzzled face, Spyro chipped in. "Volteer's one of the guys that started the dragon guilds." While Sparx bobbed his head in confirmation, the small drake turned to his elder for the same. "Ours was Ignitus, right?"

Not bad, Nestor mused with a broad smile. "Good to see you haven't completely shirked your history lessons." He spared a moment to relish in Spyro's indignant blush. "Correct, and it is thanks to the Ecologists that Volteer's philosophy survives to this day," his smile waned at this point, "albeit tenuously."

Oh boy. An uneasy look passed between Spyro and his friends. Here came the heart-wrenching part.

Elora's face softened. "Why 'tenuously'? What happened?"

A deep rueful sigh escaped Nestor. "Recall that a number of our own had been stranded in the Forgotten Worlds and we thought them to be lost. Turns out the Ecologists are the reason behind their survival." He turned to his son-figure. "Remember when Delbin stated how a few of the female dragons settled in after your second adventure, Spyro?"

At first the younger dragon scrunched his face in confusion. Yeah, he recalled but what did that have to do with - then the pieces suddenly locked into place and Spyro, wide-eyed in shock, gave Nestor an almost-hurt stare. "Hang on. Are you saying you guys knew they'd be coming out of hiding?"

"Ever since the female Artisans told us, yes." Nestor had the decency to look apologetic and bow his head. "My apologies Spyro. It's not that we believed you had no right to know. It's rather that the five clans' history with the Ecologists is…strenuous at best, and we feared you being ashamed of us. Not that it stopped you from asking about this before."

Spyro's face twisted at the latter admission. "When did I…," a certain memory returned and his eyes flashed in clarity, "oh."

Nestor gently pat the smaller drake's shoulder. "Not a surprise you only remember now. You were quite young at the time."

XXX

"Spyro."

The tiny purple troublemaker went stone rigid at the familiar voice and the even more familiar tone of disappointment, the golden dragonfly hovering close by starting as well. With dread the pair slowly shifted around to face a stern-faced Nestor, the emerald dragon's hands akimbo to emphasize his paternal disapproval.

"So not only are you up past your curfew; you're also sneaking in late night snacks."

Crud. Spyro eyed the half-finished peanut butter cookie in his hand and grinned sheepishly. Maybe sparing a moment to sneak into the kitchen hadn't been so smart after all. "I just wanted to look up something Argus told me about, and I didn't wanna wait 'til tomorrow!"

Huh, that was a new excuse. Nestor blinked in wonderment before he at last noticed the open book on the table behind Spyro. A miracle the young one managed to get it there despite his diminutive size. The green elder drew closer for a better look and smirked in amusement. "Hmm. How oddly studious of you, Spyro."

Indeed, Argus' history lessons stood far from the top of Spyro's favorites list on account of their dryness and the younger dragon's abysmally short attention span. To be fair, though, the rotund scholar at least lacked Astor's habit of droning on and on. Mother Serpent knew Spyro (or anyone for that matter) could never weather that.

"Regardless, I rather you did wait until tomorrow." Nestor crossed his arms. "You know sleep takes priority."

Ugh lame! Spyro deflected his eyes and shuffled his feet with a pout. "I just wanted to find out about the lightning dragons."

Lightning dragons? Nestor examined the book even further and fell headfirst into surprise. "Spyro…," he inquired in a soft wondering tone, "is this what Argus showed you?"

The tiny reptile made eye contact and shrugged as he turned back towards the book. "All I did was flip through while he talked and find this. The picture looked super cool, so I showed it to him!" He pointed out a stylized pinwheel that took up both pages, composed of six serpentine dragons reaching towards a purple dot in the center, each a color in clockwise order: red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, and blue. "But then he said something really weird."

"And it was…?" Nestor trailed off in an anticipating voice as he pulled out and took a seat in the chair next to Spyro.

"That each dragon here stands for a clan." Spyro pointed his finger to each hue as he pointed them out one by one. "Red's for us, orange is the dream guys, green's for Mr. Titan and his cool friends, light blue's the magic dudes, and plain blue is for those guys in the swamps…so who's yellow?"

For a moment, the older reptile seemed as though he might gloss over the question. Instead, he heaved a breath full of resignation and understanding. "That would be the Ecologists."

Even though Spyro could not fathom the full depth of the emotions crossing Nestor's face, he could tell even at such a young age that something about this mysterious clan upset the elder dragon. Greatly.

"Nestor. Were the Ecola…Ecalo…"

Despite the situation, Nestor smiled at the youth's attempt at proper enunciation. "Ecologist."

Spyro settled for a nod. "Were they bad people?"

Nestor spared a moment to ponder over his next words. At last he leaned back in his chair. "Have you ever heard the expression 'there's a bad apple in every bunch?'"

The annoyed eyeroll from Spyro said everything. "How can I not? Oswin says it aaaallll the time."

A strange expression crossed Nestor's face. Not one of surprise, more like…expectant but kind of nervous too? Spyro couldn't tell for sure. But hey at least Nestor took mercy on him by using an adage the younger drake could understand.

"So, you're saying a bad Ecologist ruined everything for the good Ecologists, right?"

"To put it lightly. The sad part is that whole group took the blame for that single dragon's actions."

Wh-What?! Spyro reared his head back, gobsmacked for a moment, before crying out in outrage, "That's not fair!"

Oh fudge. His mouth clamped shut at once upon realizing he just yelled at Nestor! Okay he hadn't yelled out of anger at the older green dragon himself but still, the last time he'd done that resulted in a straight trip to the paddle.

On the contrary, Nestor did not take offense. Rather the man gave an understanding chuckle. "You're right, Spyro. That's not fair at all, especially since the rest of us dragons were just as guilty."

'Rest of us'? Spyro cocked his head and knitted his brows, not sure if he'd like the incoming answer.

"The one responsible went by the name of Malefor. Once a kind and powerful leader to the Ecologists, he inspired not just dragons but people all over the Realms with his genius and good deeds. For that reason, all the guilds praised him to no end. However, people fell in love with him so much few noticed how far he was going to satisfy his curiosity."

At this point, Nestor stood up and approached some nearby shelves to peruse their books with a finger, no specific book in mind but rather to keep his hands active. He never enjoyed being still for long, much like Spyro.

"No one knows the real reason he went down the path he did, but none could deny he went off the deep end: going too far with his experiments, dabbling in forbidden magic, stealing innocent people from their homes to use them as test subjects. He kept all these misdeeds secret from even his own people—and once his actions finally came to light and the leaders banished him…"

Nestor shook his head with a sigh of disgust. "People tend to place blame on others when things go wrong, regardless of whether those others deserve blame or not." He turned to Spyro with a face full of regret. "The Ecologists faced…bullying, to say the least. Badly enough that they had to go into hiding just to escape it all." The elder averted his eyes, voice heavy with pity and shame. "No one has heard from them since."

Tears did not come often to Spyro, and even when they did the young drake always made a point to brush them away. After hearing a story like that, he couldn't help the misty sheen coating his eyes.

"They're still okay, right?"

Nestor smiled as he sat back down and placed a hand on the young one's tiny back. For all his mischief and bravado, Spyro possessed a kind heart. "The Ecologists were always known for their critical thinking and ingenuity." The green dragon made a face as he realized his wording and rephrased it before Spyro could ask. "Basically, they know how to think their way out of problems."

That last sentence inspired a small yet crooked grin from Spyro after he wiped his eyes. "Like me?"

A good-natured scoff escaped the taller reptile. "In certain aspects, I'm sure. They had a strong sense of responsibility as well. Such as, say, knowing when to go to bed on time?"

Little Spyro rolled his eyes at the not at all transparent words. He knew when to take a hint. "OK, fine."

XXX

This same story Nestor relayed to Elora, Spyro adding his two cents as the faded memory returned to him. By the end, the faun smiled at how her friend ended off the recounted memory. However, that smile proved short-lived once she registered the pensiveness on both dragons' faces.

"Malefor."

A shiver went down the faun's spine from speaking that name, filling Elora with fear far beyond anything Ripto ever managed. However, the more she mulled over the situation, the more righteous anger bubbled to the surface. "…so, they had to live with the fallout of his actions all this time and got treated like villains for it? Spyro's right, that is unfair! They had to have proven themselves if the dragons that came back are willing to put in a good word for them."

The faun banged a fist against her knee as she spoke, the sight of such righteous anger inspiring an empathetic half-smile from Nestor. No wonder Spyro befriended her.

"You are correct," the Artisan leader agreed, "What's more, the rest of us dragons have our own atonement to answer for. Not only did the rest of our clans play a part in Malefor's corruption, we denied this truth and turned our backs on the Ecologists to preserve our own pride."

"So…how are we gonna go about all this atonement stuff then?" Spyro inquired.

Nestor set his jaw in a rare moment of self-consciousness. "In full honesty, Spyro, that plan remains in…development, although I do have a few ideas on how we could get started. In the meantime, you should speak with the female Artisans and hear of their experiences with the Ecologists so that you'll have a better grasp of the situation."

Sounded like a good idea to Spyro. It'd be a great chance to know those ladies better anyway. Sudden buzzing drew his attention to his dragonfly companion, who zipped off his head and 'whispered' into his ear. Once the insect finished, Spyro's attention shifted to Elora. "Sparx says you might wanna check with the Professor and see how he figures into all this, too."

Elora set her hands akimbo with a determined smile. "Way ahead of you, Sparx."

After all, the elder man couldn't have met the Ecologists (let alone any dragons at all) before Spyro. Nor did he mention anything to that effect after the Ripto incident. In short, that old man better prepare himself for a full-speed interrogation.

Seeing this conversation reach a natural endpoint, Nestor stood up and dusted himself off. "In that case, we'd best be getting back. You have a lesson with Tomas in five minutes, Spyro. Miss Elora, I will ask Marco to fly you back to Dragon Shores if his schedule permits."

Spyro cocked his head, curious. "And what about you?"

"I'm going to send a message to the other guild leaders. We have some" – Nestor paused with a thoughtful hum and briefly averted eyes – "brainstorming to do."

Assuming the other leaders give their support, he silently added with a drop of wariness.