I apologize for the long delay! College has been keeping me very busy. This chapter contained a very dear historical figure to me, and I could never dream of owning them. Also, I downed the rating to T, but if need be it will be bumped back up to M. Enjoy!
"I have more than enough reason to want you and your disgusting race dead. I don't care what Ember says anymore. All you humans are the same! All you do is murder, and-"
"Silence!" Silas roared, striking the dragon roughly with the hilt of his blade, Spyro grunting in pain, "I will not listen to you damn my race any longer! Look around you and open your eyes to your own damn hypocrisy! All this death, all this destruction has been caused by you!"
"Silas, calm down." Ember ushered softly, fear wavering in her voice as the man turned at her, a twisted snarl on his face, eyes wild.
"Do not tell me to calm down whilst Berend lay on his damned death bed!" Silas growled, pointing his blade at the soot covered dragoness, Ember shifting with uncomfortability at the thick ash caked between her toes, scales darkening, as if offended.
"Don't speak like that." Ember ordered, the smoky air becoming stiff as tempers flared.
"I owe Berend more than this! It is I that should be lying there right now, not him! The least I can do is kill the dragon that caused all this! That can at least give my cousin some peace." Silas smoldered, Ember feeling the purple dragon look upon her with confusion and worry.
"Ember, are you alright?" Spyro asked upon seeing the wounds on her body, eyes softening in worry, "Where are my children? What happened?"
"You...do not know? Do not remember?" Ember asked, eyes looking upon the male sadly as Spyro tried to shaking his head, the chains rattling.
"No. Please, tell me what happened! Are the children okay?!" Spyro asked, his voice rising with worry and concern as Ember hesitated, Silas rolling his eyes.
"So you do not remember the taste of human flesh?" Silas asked, voice laced with venom as Spyro looked at the knight with confusion.
"What are you talking about?!" Spyro asked, his concern and confusion rising as the human yelled, roughly kicking the dragon over and over.
"How!? How do you not remember!? Remember, damn you! It was you! You-you that did all this, you that burned, you that killed, you that ripped off the arm of a boy, you that destroyed the life of a boy that has yet see his tenth winter! You-"
"Silas! Silas! Ancestors, stop it!" Ember screamed, ramming the human with her shoulder, easily knocking him to the ground, pupils sharp and narrowed as she stood between man and dragon.
"What has gotten into you?! You know Spyro would never do this! What you saw, what caused all this-that was not Spyro! You know this, Silas!" Ember cried, tail thrashing as she looked at Spyro, worry and terror crossing his face as Silas slowly rose to his feet, coughing.
"Ember, again, and again I have tried to believe you, but each time I am proven wrong. All I have seen from Spyro is hostility and the wish to destroy man, and he has not done one thing to show repentance! Perhaps I could forgive him were I the one laying on a deathbed, but no. I can never forgive him for what he has done, and you are a fool to keep defending him. Do you not see? He is better off dead! Look at all the death and destruction he has caused! How many times can you defend and justify his actions by claiming that is not the real Spyro?"
"He has children, Silas. Do you think he would ever put them in danger?" Ember asked, the human looking at her emotionlessly, a sigh escaping him.
"You have already seen him perform such an act. You truly are a fool if you think he will change." Silas replied, Ember's eyes averting to the side, eyes sullen.
"Many of the soldiers what the blood of the beast. If Berend dies, I shall be the one to pierce my blade in his wretched heart. Either by my hand, or by my brothers', Spyro shall die." Silas spoke lowly, as if brooding before walking off, a trail of disturbed ash rising from the burnt earth following his tracks.
"I'm sorry, Spyro." Ember replied softly, the dragoness turning her gaze to the chained male, his amethyst eyes locking onto her sapphire orbs.
"Ember? Did I...really do all this?" Spyro asked, Ember nodding slowly in response.
"Yes. You did."
"And those wounds you have? Did I do that?"
"You did." Ember replied softly, Spyro looking upon the dragoness with sadness.
"And my children?"
"They are safe." Ember replied simply, Spyro sighing before letting his head hit the ground, dust and ash fluttering up into the grey sky.
"I'm sorry for doing this to you, Ember. I'm not sure what I did, but I would never...do anything to put you or the children in danger, not with a clear mind. I know...I know whatever you did...it was the right thing to do." Spyro spoke, voice choking as tears began to run down his snout. Ember released a deep breath as she lowered her snout, feeling cool iron and warm scales wet with tears as she nuzzled the male.
"Oh, Spyro...don't say that. It wasn't you. It's okay."
"No. No, it's not. It's horrible. I know I should feel guilty, feel something for what I did to these humans...to that human child, but I feel nothing. I just hate them so much, and I can't beat it, I can't make it go away! He's just too strong, Ember." Spyro whimpered, nostrils flaring as his tears cleaned both of their scales, Ember's brilliant pink scales beginning to shine through despite the soot covering her body.
"Who is 'he', Spyro?" Ember asked, her terror growing as she pulled away slightly, as if nervous.
"Me." Spyro replied softly, as if ashamed, "I can't let go of the hate! Seeing Cynder...what they did to her-what he did to her! They deserve no mercy! He deserves no mercy!"
"Ancestors, Spyro, just stop it! I don't want anything to happen to you, I really don't, but-but you have to stop! Let it go! Let it go, Spyro!" Ember begged, the purple male shaking his head.
"I can't, Ember. I tried, but I can't. Avenging Cynder for what they did...that's all I can think about, and it's stronger now. I can't stop it. It's a part of me now, the hate, the anger, the rage." Spyro unburdened, Ember closing her eyes, as if in pain from hearing the words, the female slowly shaking her head.
"Spyro..." Ember broke off, as if struggling within herself to speak, to believe, "I...I want to believe that you can get better, that that...evilness...that darkness...it isn't you. It isn't the real you, but...now I don't know what to believe. Maybe...Maybe Silas is right." Ember continued, voice shaken as tears began to rim around her eyes, looking at her kin.
"You are all I have left of the past, of the happy memories when we were children. When we were safe, and warm, and protected. Everyone was happy. You, me, Cynder, Flame...we were so happy back then. Do you remember, Spyro? Do you even remember the last time you were happy, and not consumed with anger? I bet you don't!" Ember stated, Spyro looking at the pink dragoness, unreadable. He now knew where her loyalties were.
"I just...I want you to get better, Spyro. That's all I want, but...I'm not sure if you can get better." Ember spoke, voice sullen as she looked at the male one last time before sighing and slowly trudging away.
Spyro watched as his childhood friend walked away, feeling his anger boil and smolder underneath his scales despite his body's plea for rest. The pain within the dragon's body became too much, and the purple male found himself drifting off into death's second self.
As Spyro opened his eyes, the purple dragon found himself in an entirely different area. Confusion hit the dragon as he found himself no longer bound by chains, the ashen dirt solidifying into a beautiful cobblestone floor swirling with greys and earthen tones. The walls were made out of stone, a large oak door leading out of the room, parallel to the stone walls giving way to a balcony that overlooked into the sky. The open windows allowed bright sunlight to spill across the room, their soft linen tapestries flowing gently in the soft breeze that seemed to whisper to the dragon. Several bookcases filled with their contents lined the walls along with several paintings of what Spyro had to guess were human lords. Off to the side in a small corner lay a desk covered in several scrolls and documents, scented wax hardening upon the sealed papers, light illuminating the scene with several candles as their flame danced softly against the wind.
Spyro looked upon the scene before him, feeling an odd mix of foreign discomfort yet familiality. The purple dragon could swear that he could hear the calls of his kin from just outside the balcony, into the sky. To Spyro's dismay, however, he could not see them. It was strange. The foundation seemed so cold and harsh, yet the air was warm and calming.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" Spyro asked, hearing nothing but the wind breathing against the tapestries, causing the soft linen to move in speed, as if frantic before dying down. To Spyro's surprise, a figure seemed to emerge out of the cloth itself. Tall, yet thin, as if sickly and covered in pure white cloth from head to toe, golden embroidery proudly showing itself on the human's collar and chest. There was no flesh shown on the human, and where the flesh of arm would be seen, there was only medical bandages that were tightly wrapped around the limbs and neck, However, the strangest part of the human was the fact that no face could be seen. In it's place was a silver mask, stainless and perfectly crafted, the light softly reflecting off the cold surface.
"Oh. My apologies, I did not hear you arrive. I hope you did not wait too long." The human spoke, voice soft yet strong, speaking without pause.
"You were expecting me? What would you want with a dragon other than slaying one?" Spyro asked, eyes narrowing upon the human.
"Regardless of what you think, I have no ill will for your kind. I do, however, wish to help you." The human spoke, Spyro looking at the human with skepticism.
"Help me? Why would a human what to help me?"
"Because God still has a great use for you." The human replied, head cocked slightly to the side, a soft chuckle escaping him as he motioned for the dragon to rest with a bandaged hand. Spyro rolled his eyes. He had no interest in a human god.
"Please, sit." The man spoke, Spyro resting on his haunches as the man moved behind his desk and slowly, almost painfully, lowered himself onto the chair.
"Who are you? Are you a human lord?" Spyro asked, his eyes looking upon the human's, a bright blue rimmed with a red hue. The man chuckled once more, as if amused.
"I am Baldwin the Fourth, once known as the Leper King of Jerusalem."
"Once? So you are dead?" Spyro asked, confused.
"Yes. Does that shock you?"
"No. It's just that...only the Ancestors appear in my dreams. I never had a human enter mine." Spyro spoke.
"Tell me, friend, do you feel her? Do you feel her presence?" Baldwin asked, Spyro's eyes showing confusion.
"Who?"
"Your partner. Cynder, I believe her name is?"
"C...Cynder? How do you know her name? Is she here?" Spyro asked, startled as the man nodded.
"Yes, somewhat. I assume you are getting a sense of...warmth? That is she." Baldwin spoke, Spyro looking around to find Cynder, but became dismayed upon seeing nothing. He did, however, feel a strange sense of warmth on his side.
"Do not let your eyes fool you. She is here."
"I feel her, but why do I not see her?" Spyro asked, dismayed as he looked at the Leper in desperation.
"From what I understand, when dragons die, they return to nature, yes? If that is true, Cynder is far too much a part of the world to fully appear in a spiritual setting. She is always there, always here, but too far wordly to completely appear here." Baldwin spoke, Spyro shaking his head.
"I don't understand."
"Dragons and humans...we die the same, yet our spirits travel different paths. It affects us differently. Cynder will remain as a part of the world, yet my spirit is not allowed to return to my mortal home ever again. The only way we can come to even ground is through dreams."
"They why are you here?" Spyro asked, looking at the man before him.
"Because she wants you to understand." Baldwin spoke, resting back in the chair, head cocked slightly, "Now tell me, why is it that you still harbor such rage?"
"I think that is obvious." Spyro stated, tail moving with annoyance.
"Nothing is as obvious as it seems. You and I...we are very much alike." Baldwin spoke, Spyro looking upon the human with offence.
"You would compare yourself to me?" Spyro asked, the Leper nodding in response.
"Regardless of what you think, yes. Tell me, what is your truest opinion of man?" Baldwin asked, leaning forward slightly, intent as Spyro hesitated.
"I don't think you want to know." Spyro answered, looking upon the human's frail form.
Baldwin simply blinked, "I would not ask if I truly did not want to know."
"Very well..." Spyro replied after a sigh, "I hate them. I hate all humans. They are nothing but disgusting, disease ridden creatures intent on killing! Selfish, filthy, cruel and unjust!"
"And why do you hate man?"
"Because...because they killed Cynder! Murdered her, butchered her, robbed my children of their mother and I of my love! My family-Cynder-she did nothing to deserve that and they just...they just slaughtered her like an animal! He did!" Spyro roared in rage, breath raging as Baldwin studied the dragon, patient.
It took several seconds for Spyro to calm down, his breathing returning to normal as his wings went limp by his side.
"Does...does that offend you? Are you happy, now that you know what I truly think?" Spyro asked, Baldwin taking a moment to respond, shaking his head.
"No, because what you speak is true." Baldwin replied, Spyro's eyes widening in slightly shock.
"Wh...what? You agree?"
"Tell me, did you ever hear of the Crusades?" Baldwin asked, Spyro shaking his head.
"No, never."
"They were Holy Wars. Though I fought for the Crusader States, and in the name of God-as many of my allies did-most were far from merciful. The majority of the war was between the Christians and Muslims, I leading the Christians, and Saladin leading the Arabs." Baldwin explained, Spyro looking slightly uninterested.
"Humans fighting over their beliefs? How shocking." Spyro spoke, Baldwin shifting in his seat, ignoring the comment.
"My point is, anyone can fight in the name of God, or their beliefs, and easily abuse that reasoning. During my rule, I had many problems with my generals attacking unarmed Muslim caravans in an attempt to bring war. Every religion, every belief, has extremist views or will use their religion as a scapegoat for their actions, and will cause the earnest of followers to suffer from stigmatic views. Because men murdered your love, you now label every human you see as a murderer, as verman. Is that fair? Is an unborn child still in its mother's womb a born killer? Does that child deserve to die just because it is born human? You mentioned you have children? Do your children deserve to die in the eyes of men just because they label all dragons as mindless beasts? Will your children die because of something their father did to quell his rage? Tell me, what kind of example are you showing your children? How are you as a father?" Baldwin asked, voice softening as Spyro mauled over what the man was saying, asking him.
"What kind of example? I...show them how to be...wary, and to not trust all humans." Spyro answered, Baldwin looking at the purple dragon, his deeply bandaged hand resting on the desk.
"I see. So you are teaching your children to be stereotypical towards humans by shutting them out of the lives of your children? Without...contact...your children will go down the very same path that you are now. While it is wise that they should not trust all humans, they should also learn that not every human has malicious intent. Is that wise? Are your actions causing your children to grow from your mistakes, or become filled with terror and rage? Is that what you want? For your children to fear everything, even you?" Baldwin asked, watching intently for any movement in the dragon as Spyro shook his head.
"No, I don't want my children to fear me, but...with this rage...I don't want them to become me. I don't want them to suffer because of something I did. I could never live with myself if something happened." Spyro spoke, head dropping.
"Then why do you let the anger control you?" The Leper asked, Spyro falling silent in thought, yet already knew why.
"Because it's a part of me." Spyro replied, ashamed and sullen as Baldwin looked upon the dragon, eyes showing pity as the man sighed. Baldwin's thin arm rose from his lap, delicate, bandaged fingers tugging at the cloth of his damaged hand with some difficulty. Broken, yet graceful.
Spyro's eyes widened in shock and pity as the cloth that was protecting the damaged hand was removed, revealing a highly damaged hand covered in sores and puss filled blisters, red and swollen. The very fingers were large and stubby, almost seeming to be mended together in a pile of flesh only to have the very tips of the fingers scarred with large blisters, the fingernails completely gone.
"Oh, Ancestors..." Spyro muttered, at a loss for words.
"This disease...is both my blessing, and my curse. Because of this disease, I never claimed a wife, I never had children, I was in poor health throughout my life, I became blind and bedridden during a time when my people needed me the most, I was considered damned by God and cursed to Hell, and I died at the age of twenty-four. I had every right to be angry with this illness, this damnation. I had every right to be a horrible King, yet not once did I jeopardize my Kingdom, my people because of my illness. I could have wished for the most beautiful women to come to me, yet I did not. My people...they were my children, and it was my right to defend them. I accepted my illness, I accepted that I would not live to see thirty, and I conquered my disease, my curse, and in return it became my strength."
"How did it become your strength?" Spyro asked, a soft chuckle escaping the King, the man suddenly leaning closer, as if to tell a secret, pure cloth draping over his masked head gently.
"Do you know why I choose to remain in this wretched body?" Baldwin asked, Spyro shaking his head. The man was playing the old 'A question for a question and an answer for an answer' game.
"No. Why?"
"Because if I had never developed leprosy, where would I be? While my life may have been more filling, would I truly be the same person? Would I have the same values, same morals? Would I make the same sacrifices I have made with my weakened body to protect my lands, my people, my family? What if I would be too selfish to make those sacrifices? At least with this weakened body, I know who I am, and I would not change my condition if I had the chance to do so again. Leprosy aided me into becoming the man that I am, and has allowed me to see the world differently, to be a better King. For those reasons, being a leper has strengthened me. Can you do it? Can you accept your rage as a part of you? Can you control it, and stop your illness from taking dominance of your existence?" The Leper asked, slowly rewrapping his damaged hand.
"I...I don't know. He's too strong. All I see is Cynder. All I see is what he did to her!" Spyro cried, feeling warmth suddenly rub against his snout.
"And why do you keep remembering her as such?" Baldwin asked.
"Because what they did...is unforgivable. If I forget what they did to her, then Cynder can never be at peace."
"So you choose to remember her as a defiled corpse in death, rather than what you saw her as while she was alive? 'Remember me as I was.' That is what I said to my beautiful sister while on my deathbed. For years she had not seen my face, and I did not wish for her to see me, for it would shatter her fantasy of me as a little boy, and show me as the wretched man I had become. I would rather have my beloved Sibylla remember me as the same boy when we were children, happy and full of hope and life. It made my passing on her much easier, and I apologized for any sorrow I had caused her. You must stop seeing the desiccation of Cynder in your mind, and remember her for what she truly was. Were the situation reversed, would you want Cynder to be tortured by seeing your broken body, and remembering you that way? Or would you want Cynder to remember you as you were?" Baldwin asked, hand now completely covered as Spyro looked at the man, a mix of emotion showing in this amethysts eyes.
"I would want her to remember me as I was. I wouldn't want Cynder to suffer just because I was gone. I would want her to remember all the amazing moments we had with each other, all the good moments that no one could ever take away, even were I to die. I would just want her to be happy." Spyro responded, Baldwin remaining silent, as if in thought.
"I would...give anything for her be alive, even if it meant that I were to die." Spyro continued, voice breaking as his eyes began to water, a soothing presence enveloping him, washing over him in comfort.
"I...I feel her. I feel you, C...Cynder. Ancestors, I love you so much...I...I'm so sorry! I failed!" Spyro sobbed, body wracking in emotional turmoil.
"Do you understand now?" Baldwin asked softly, Spyro failing to respond for several seconds, golden chest heaving.
"Yes. Sh...She's happy. She forgives them, forgives him." Spyro replied, voice broken as he looked upon the human, Baldwin's sick eyes boring into the dragon's.
"Can you forgive him? Can you accept your rage?" The Leper asked, Spyro pausing the longest, debating inside himself, the darkest corners of his mind raging.
"I can try. I can. Even if I can't come to terms with myself, knowing Cynder is safe and happy is all I need to help." Spyro replied, eyes showing relief, and for the first time, peace.
"I am glad to hear it." Baldwin replied, a much lighter tone in his voice as he slowly rose from his seat.
"Promise me, dragon friend...promise me that you will keep your children safe, and that you will always put them before your own wants and needs. Those children are your only responsibility, and yours alone. Their success or failure is in your hands. Remember that." Baldwin spoke, a slender, feminine finger pointing towards the dragon.
"I will. I promise. Thank you." Spyro replied, smiling as the room began to fade to white, the Leper disappearing within the mist, yet even as everything else faded, the familiar presence of his mate stayed, and as the dragon awoke Spyro could hear her soft voice echoing in his pounding skull.
"I'm with you, Spyro. I love you."
Spyro needed a major character change. He might not change completely after this, but he's starting to. It's a better result than killing him. As for Baldwin, I fear he snuck in because The Leper King has been lacking it's protagonist. Thank you all for supporting this story!