Hello, dear readers! Sorry for the wait; I had a rare moment of time where I could write something. I apologize for the shortness, but hope you enjoy.
To put it bluntly, Silas had absolutely no idea where he was-not that he even expected to be consciously aware of his surroundings. A deep, almost pressurized pain was within his chest, and occasionally it felt as if the young man could not breathe, yet he could find nothing that was causing him pain. A warm, almost painful grip was felt upon his hand, yet when he looked he had found nothing but space between his fingers.
Silas had looked around him, multiple images blurry against the vast space of oblivion-which had seemed both far and near. Slowly, almost painfully so, as if but an optical illusion, the vast emptiness had taken form, wisp like lights gently dancing to and fro as the shadows and forms materialized into that of a library. Yet it was like any library he had ever seen, for there were thousands of books, far more than he could count.
A soft, almost harmonic hum came from a strange pool in the center of the massive library, though as Silas approached he had noticed that the pool did not contain water as he was expecting, but some kind of magic. Human curiosity had propelled the young man to touch the rippling, swirling magic, though he had halted his action upon seeing a creature form within the magic, his eyes squinting to see.
The head of an elderly dragon had appeared, an almost pale blue, perhaps even silver in color with aged eyes. Silas' eyes widened at the creature, peering intently at the vision. Until the vision spoke, "Touching the Pool of Visions is unadvisable."
The sudden voice had startled the human, causing Silas to jump back. However, he was startled yet again as he jumped back into a solid form, shrieking upon realizing the dragon was behind him.
"Jesus Christ!" Silas screamed, cowering before the dragon-which was far larger than Spyro by far.
"I assure you, friend, that your God is not here to beckon to your cries. But you are safe here. In fact, t'was I that summoned you." The Elder Dragon spoke, voice soft with age, his draconic lips cracked and dried. His words didn't bring the young man any comfort.
"By God! I am in Hell!" The human cried, the dragon shaking his head.
"No, no, my friend. You are not in Hell, nor are you in Heaven. You are within Time. You see, I am the Chronicler, and I simply...record, and guard, Time." The grey dragon replied, adorned in gold embroidery.
"The...Chronicler? Dragons guard Time?" Silas questioned, slowly beginning to calm.
"I do, yes. But I also record every dragon that has ever existed, and every dragon that will exist. I record their lives. And every dragon that has died, and how. You...I am well familiar with." The Chronicler grunted, Silas pausing, briefly looking away in embarrassment and shame.
"I never meant to kill Cynder." He stated, clearing his throat. The Elder Dragon looked upon him, though did not judge him.
"Perhaps. But that is not for me to say. Rather, I summoned you here because of your plan against Malefor. It has a fault, one that can endanger your friends' quest to save their homes. And end Dragonkind." The grey scaled dragon spoke, lowering his head to get a closer look at the human, "Do you know of which I speak?"
Silas felt his body go cold, shaking his head slowly, "No...the ritual? Did it fail? Did I...fail? Did I die in vain?" Silas questioned, dreading the answer.
The Chronicler shook his head, but ever so slightly, "Do you know why Malefor is so powerful?"
"My friend mentioned it was because he saw through the eyes of the dead?" Silas questioned, the old dragon nodding.
"Yes. The Spirit World. You have to realize, that when Malefor was slain, his soul did not move in peace like the others before him. Malefor's soul was so cursed with hate and domination, that his soul remained...active. It did not coexist peacefully with nature, did not return to it. And now, Malefor has risen. He has done what no other dragon has ever done-an unnatural occurrence that has harmed nature." The Chronicler spoke, pausing to lay down, his old bones unable to support him as they once did. He had motioned for the young man to do the same if he wished, but the man moved not.
"So...any other dragon that comes back...will be the same way?" Silas questioned, The Chronicler grunting in thought.
"In theory, but not all of them. Only those dragons of ill heart will come back with the will to dominate, to destroy. But you must realize, that in performing that little stunt, that you have changed the course of Time and Dragonkind. Kirk was a dragon that was never supposed to be revived-nor was any dragon." The old dragon grumbled, yawning a bit.
"...I am sorry? But will Kirk be the same as he once was? Will Spyro?" Silas continued to prod.
"Mortal friend, no dragon that comes back from the dead will ever be the same. Kirk may not be a dragon of ill omen like Malefor, but he certainly will be changed. His soul will be scarred, in this life and the next. How it will affect the future generations-if there are any-only Time will tell. Spyro, however...well, you need not worry about him. His soul was far beyond your reach." The Chronicler spoke, Silas looking upon him, shaking his head.
"Wait-you mean we did not revive Spyro? He is still cold and dead?"
The Chronicler said nothing, though the old dragon released a deep sigh, "Spyro's soul was already one with nature. There was no way you could reach him. Kirk's soul, however, was imprisoned within that creature's stomach, and was able to be drawn into his physical body upon the hound's death."
The human twitched, digesting the information before pitching the bridge of his nose, "Damn it!"
"The chances for success seem bleak, yes? But fear not, for there is hope. Kirk may not be able to perform the task on his own within aid, and with Spyro beyond our reach...that leave only you."
"But how can we bring Spyro back if his spirit is...what? Me? Nooooooo, no, no! I think you have it wrong. For me to even...be alive is blasphemy! Only the Son of Christ can resurrect after death and I am no Son of Christ, not even close! No! Bad plan! Bad plan!" Silas exclaimed, motioning with his hands that the idea was of ill origin.
"But you would not be return as a human, my friend. You would become a dragon. Your soul would reenter your body change form."
"No! I do not want to go back, and I certainly do not want to be a dragon! I am not supposed to do anything greater! I have played my part, and now I only wish for rest. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired, and I do not want to go back to that life. I do not want to deal with its horrors. Please, just leave me be." He frowned, "I have done enough."
The grey dragon shook his head, sighing heavily, "Then it appears Ember was right. Human are selfish."
"We are not. I am not." Silas shot back, "I have been anything but selfish. I have given up my life just so they might have a chance."
"You did so out of fear. You are so used to action and taking control that you have no sense of sitting back and letting things play out as they should. None of those dragon should have been revived."
"So you are saying this is my fault?! How so?" Silas hissed, challenging the dragon.
"How so? You believe yourself to be innocent in the larger scheme of things? Everything is your fault that has played up until now. You failed to claim the Duchess, while she claimed by the Whisperer. They rought an unborn child into this world plagued by darkness, and as such were sent to execution. You tried to intervene, you freed the Corpse Walker, who freed Malefor from his prison and became host. You moved the Duke so to start a war by your compassion. You damned yourself into exile while you could have watched the execution and let it be carried out like Fate intended, yet in doing not it was you who murdered Cynder. In murdering Cynder you had caused Spyro to go mad, and in making Spyro go mad who had caused him the life of his young. And by not sitting back and merely watching the executions unfold as they will you are responsible for the deaths of your kin-human and dragon. That is how everything is your fault. The critical point, the prevention for all this was at the execution. You should have remained quiet, and watched with vigilance and obedience-not compassion." The Chronicler spoke, voice meek yet dominating. Silas said nothing as he breathed slowly, shakily, the man looking upon his hands.
"A...All my fault? By God..."
"Now you know why. Was your act of sacrifice truly as selfless as you claim? Or an act of fear for not wanting to die in vain, die lost in time, without glory?" The aged dragon pried, "Can you go to whatever comes next content with your mortal life? What of your honor? Your oath to Ember?"
The young man had said nothing, remaining quiet as the dragon continued, "I know you do not wish to return, but can you truly forsake your friends for your own selfish worries?"
"...Why are you doing this? If I am the cause of such horror, why are you doing this to me?"
The Chronicler paused, an eye crest raised, as if shocked, "Why? Because I have faith."
Silas looked upon the grey dragon for several minutes, releasing a deep sigh as he weakly replied, "Then to answer your question...no. No, I cannot forsake my friends."
"I see. I must have you know, young friend, that when I return you to your body, not only will your body be changed into that of a dragon, but all your memories from your mortal life shall be wiped from your mind."
"What? That is not fair! You-You cannot take away my memories! That is taking away all my hopes, my dreams, my fear, my love for-it is just not fair! Doing so will destroy what is me! What is Silvanus Adler! How can my father look upon his...his beastial son who does not even recognize his father?! What of Berend?! I think that would destroy me!" Silas voiced his panic, the Chronicler shaking his head.
"Now, now. It may be hard now, but once you are a dragon you will not be bothered, for you will not remember. However, you will be able to retain all of your memories once every month-when the moon is full. That is also when you can become mortal once more."
"Great...I am a damned were-dragon!" Silas whaled, obviously not happy as the Chronicler chuckled.
"A bit, but not quite. Your redemption is not yet over, friend. All I need from you now, is to look into the Pool of Visions."
Silas frowned, grumbling, "Damn the Pool of Visions. Rest must be unheard of, even after death..."
The knight reluctantly did as told, though did not see anything within the magic.
"What am I-meep!" The young man squeaked the Chronicler pushed his head into the Pool of Visions, the Pool reacting as it came alive.
"You shall reap what you sow, friend. A Slayer you live no more; but Dragon Knight, reborn."
I've been wanting to use Silas' dragon form for quite some time, though never really had the opportunity until now(a bit cliche, but still). But is that a good or bad thing with Silas? There's also a reason for Spyro's death(like everything else in this story-and no, it's not to make Silas some random Gary Sue that can suddenly save the world-cause he can't). I have been thinking of ways to bring Spyro back, but could not, since it would clash with the lore of the story, or of he did come back it would have no logical sense. But even though Spyro is physically dead, remember that his soul os still active-and most certainly will lend aid and even advice through dreams(like Baldwin). But most importantly of all: Spyro and Cynder are together and happy. :) Thank you for reading!