Disclaimer: I don't own ANY characters of TLOS, the only character I own is Ivor.
Shadow scales
Winter was beginning to set in and covered the city of Warfang and the land around it in a thick blanket of snow.
The hollow yet gentle breeze allowed the many trees surrounding the hilltop area to rock slowly back and forth in the wind, the naked trees and it's branches rocked in the gentle late night breeze. Thankfully there was no blizzard or any harsh weather storms so nobody really struggled making their way outside, should their need to do so had arisen.
The moonlight atmosphere had never seemed so ancient as it was this night in Avalar.
It had been a few weeks since Ivor had officially turned four years old and little Ivor had come down with a strange illness which threw Cynder and Spyro for a loop.
The two heroes of Avalar had initially considered this illness as a consequence for Ivor after he spent too much time playing in the snow outside, alas they were proven wrong when the small dragon just kept getting sicker and sicker.
The wintry atmosphere didn't do the little dragon any favours, unfortunately.
Ivor's tiny tummy churned, his body ached and throbbed, a migraine pounded through his poor little skull, snot dribbled out of his nostrils and his poor tired yet bloodshot eyes crusted over. He couldn't keep himself from shaking and shivering while he was fairly certain that he was getting goosebumps in spite of the fact that his body was covered in chalk white scales. Raspy whimpers and sobs squeezed through his throat and his tiny tongue felt like a cheese grater.
Despite it being nice and warm in the house where Cynder and Spyro dwelled, the small dragon was shivering as though he had just finished swimming in a pool of ice in the middle of Dante's Freezer but his temperature made him feel as though he was as hot as Munitions Forge —perhaps even hotter.
To put things simply, he felt miserable…
He shuddered beneath the thick blankets, his eyes were heavy, his small body was curled up into a tight ball, his wings tucked themselves against his small body and his tail was curled up.
He tried to keep his own scythe-like tail from cutting himself or anything.
The small dragon could only huddle up into the tightest and smallest ball in hopes that his own body heat would kick in and provide him some relief from this feeling of being caught in a downdraft rivalling that of one coming from the depths of Dante's Freezer.
His eyes were screwed shut and his lower lip quivered and trembled.
He felt as though he had been wrapped up into a ball of snow and he couldn't stop shaking and shuddering, not to mention that there was no blanket thick enough to wrap him in. Shockingly, even his chalk white scales were a few shades lighter than they normally were...a very unhealthy few shades, too.
Cynder watched over the dragon whelp.
She felt constant pangs of worry shoot through her heart.
At first it was thought that this was simply one of those regular ailments that just sprang up in tiny whelps but, as time dragged on, that theory was becoming more and more unlikely as there was no illness that showed these dramatic symptoms and it was starting to become quite worrisome…but, if this illness didn't come from just a common bug that the young ones caught, then what could it be?
Cynder had a suspicion she knew what this was…but she hoped with all her heart that she was wrong.
"M...M...Mum?" Ivor spoke through chattering teeth and a cheese grater voice.
Cynder instantly launched herself into attention as she craned her neck downwards to pay even closer attention to her ailing son.
"Yes, sweetheart? What do you need?"
Ivor whimpered, his amethyst purple eyes welling up with tears and his lower lip quivering.
"I-I-It hurts…"
Cynder's heart broke even more when she heard that and proceeded to nudge her son deftly with her own snout. She gingerly rubbed her muzzle against her small whelp's chalk white cheek and tried to soothe his aches and pains but she couldn't help but feel as her heart was gripped with worry and concern for her small child.
To see her son in such a state made her heart crumble.
"Shhhhhh...I know it hurts, sweetie. I promise it will get better soon."
The lean and slender black dragoness gave a gentle lick over her whelp's cheek, minding not to lick one of his facial horns, keeping her head leaned down to her son's height.
Ivor weakly leaned in to his mother's embrace, soaking in all the love and warmth like a sponge, right before burrowing himself in the blankets covering him once more. He kept his wings huddled and his tail curled in an attempt to keep himself warm in spite of the fact that he was spiking a really high temperature already.
Cynder's eyes softened.
"Try and get some sleep, baby." She suggested gently. "Hopefully you'll feel better after a nap?"
"B-But I'm not sleepy, mama…"
Cynder couldn't hold back a small smile at her whelp's protest. Like most children, he hated naps even if he was sick. Not to mention that he really wasn't fooling anyone with that obvious fib; the whelp's eyelids struggled to keep from closing, he was shivering as if he had been stuffed into subzero temperatures, he was sniffling and was just as strong as a newborn kitten right about now.
"Yeah you are." She spoke in a playful tone as she watched Ivor's eyes finally surrender.
"No, mama….I'm….nooot…."
Ivor's eyes finally closed and he started to snore with soft and quiet breaths.
He still shivered and started huddling his tiny wings close to himself whilst snuggling into his precious scarf —the same one he received for his birthday not too long ago. He slept in his little wicker basket bed (which was a snug fit for him, it was noted by his parents that they would have to get him a bigger bed) and just slept with dreams swirling and whirling around in his feverish head like birds whirling and gliding in the sky.
Cynder turned around and exited the nursery to let her son sleep, relieved that Ivor was getting a semblance of the sleep his tiny body needed to recover from whatever this sickness was.
She hung her head exhaled deeply through her nostrils, worried but relieved at the same time.
At least he was sleeping now.
Nevertheless, Cynder's thoughts never strayed from how serious that this sickness could be.
This wasn't like the regular baby dragon ailments that struck on occasion —this couldn't be a case of Dracosis or Draconian blight (the dragon version of chicken-pox) or anything like that. This was something different yet vaguely familiar…something she couldn't quite place a claw on…something that made her feel insanely nauseous each time she pondered upon it. She couldn't help but feel scared at what this affliction could possibly be, especially when she had a good idea as to what was causing this.
She just hoped beyond hope that she was wrong.
A while later…
Cynder sat on the bed with an old open book resting atop her folded forelegs, her eyes both studious and worried. She had her wings folded against her back and her tail coiled around herself as she kept flicking through the pages of the tome she had dedicated the last few minutes to reading.
The dragoness hoped that doing a spot of reading would sense her nerves but it did nothing of the sort, not even reading a relaxing book would quell her nerves.
She was in the master bedroom, laying down upon plush mattress of the bed which she and Spyro shared at night.
The bedroom was rather…generic as bedrooms go.
There was a large bed with a large and plump purple mattress with purple pillows laying at the top. The floor was made from polished marble which was a pale purple/lilac colour that was so shiny that it turned out to have been cleaned into a reflective surface. A big red velvet carpet stretched upon the floor. The only pieces of furniture in the room was a wardrobe (dragons didn't have clothes so nobody knew why that was there at all), a bedside table, a mahogany desk, some trinkets laying atop said desk, a bookshelf and a wooden chest. The walls were made from sturdy rock and stone. The only sources of light were a pair of flame-lit torches chained and fixed to the wall, radiating a soft yet amber glow from the bright flames that danced around near the stone walls.
The only other sources of light were not only the rays of starlight beaming through the window but the silvery white beams of moonlight which shone through the shut bedroom window and cast a pool of silvery light into the bedroom.
Cynder kept reading with her eyes scanning and occasionally skimming through the pages. She found it difficult to focus on her reading, to be truthful, since her thoughts repeatedly strayed from the piece of literature and towards the little whelpling sound asleep in the next room. The former Terror of the skies kept an ear out encase Ivor had awoke and started calling out to her, she was anxiously awaiting Spyro's return so she could share her concerns regarding their only son's current condition…
"Ah'm hunfff!"
Cynder lifted her head when she heard the sound of her mate call out, his words muffled, indicating that he was probably carrying something in his mouth. His pronunciation exclamation was followed by the sound of the slender but muscular purple dragon making a quick ascension up the stairs —his steps padding on each step as he climbed up.
Spyro strode into the bedroom with a bag full of medicinal herbs hanging from his mouth.
The purple dragon must have been outside for awhile due to the thin layer of snow and ice covering his wings and the rest of his back.
The hero of Avalar's purple eyes lit up when he saw his mate sprawled upon the bed, but he noticed the concern shimmering in her teal/green/blue eyes and he immediately picked up on it. His optimism dropped and his heart sunk slightly when his concern for their whelp showed on his facial features.
"…Ngoh changfff?" He asked.
Cynder understood Spyro's muffled speech.
She knew that he was asking her if anything had changed in regards to their sick whelp whom was still presumably fast asleep in the nursery.
The former Terror of the skies had been around Spyro long enough to be perfectly aware of how he walked, slept, spoke, ect. She and Spyro knew practically everything about each other…with the exception of a couple of painful facts about themselves that they wished to keep private until they felt ready to share said fact.
She hung her head and shook it.
Spyro spoke again, clearly asking after Ivor.
"Anngk Iffor?"
"Asleep." Cynder replied.
The two heroes of Avalar both shared a brief silence.
Neither mates said anything to one another and they each tried to think of something to say to one another in order to break this silence that had brewed in between them. They each glanced to one another as they each waited for their mate to open their mouthes or speak. The purple and ebony dragons had started drawing a blank while the seconds ticked by and they each waited for an opening for conversation to come to them.
Finally, Cynder broke the silence.
"Spyro? Mind if I talk to you for a minute?" She asked.
Spyro nodded his head in agreement as Cynder used the tip of her scythe-shaped tail to pat a spot on the mattress right next to her. The purple dragon put the bags of medicinal herbs down on the surface of the bedside table and then meandered over to the bed and mattress, he didn't waste time as he clambered up on to the soft and velvety bed and proceeded to shuffle so he lay next to the black dragoness.
Spyro proceeded to unfold one wing from his back, spread it and lay it across his lover's back.
Cynder burrowed her head into the crook of Spyro's neck, in turn.
The purple and black dragons basked in their romantic embrace for what felt like an eternity while the latter prepared herself for what was bound to be a conversation that would feel as though nostalgia itself was stabbing in her back like a knife. She mentally braced herself as she closed her eyes and inhaled and exhaled through her nostrils.
Then she finally started to speak.
"These symptoms...I've seen them before."
Cynder could feel as her husband cocked his head to one side, clearly intrigued now.
She continued.
"It happened to me just as I was unlocking my shadow powers."
The ebony dragoness hung her head, ashamed, and closed her eyes.
"During my time being exposed to Malef..." she trailed off for a second as she reconsidered using his name right at this moment in time. "...the Dark master's disgustingly twisted power, my body underwent torment that you wouldn't believe."
Spyro blinked.
Alright, so Cynder had gone through much harder times than he'd even thought possible...he knew that already but he wasn't understanding what that had to do with their son and his ailments here and now.
The black dragoness sensed the purple dragon's perplexity and decided to clarify.
"Unlike you, Spyro, each and every time I unlocked my abilities, it was a horrific ordeal because my body was taking on dark powers that shouldn't have had any business being forced into a dragons body in the first place. It was a symphony of pure physical and mental torment…my mind and body both broke."
Spyro started to have a bad feeling about where his mate was going with this. He looked down at her, his brows knitting together to paint a look of pure concern and worry upon his face. His heart started to rise from his chest and into his poor throat. What was going on? Where was his mate going with this topic of conversation?
He asked, his voice shaking slightly as he was beginning to fear the answer to his inquiry.
"Where are you going with this, Cyn?"
Cynder's eyes started to well up with ginormous tears and her maw started to quiver.
"I…I'm afraid that Ivor is beginning to show signs of becoming a Shadow dragon, l-l-l-like me."
"Cynder?"
"Wh-What if h-h-he becomes corrupted like I did!?"
"Cynder!"
"I don't want him to grow and become a monster-!"
"CYNDER!"
Cynder gasped when Spyro snapped at her and she peeled herself away from him, eyes wide and teary.
Spyro glared at her, he wasn't angry but he was wearing this stern expression upon his face and he wore a huge frown that made his muzzle muscles hurt. His heart ached when he saw the huge tears running down his lover's cheeks but he kept his eyes locked firmly upon Cynder's —neither dragon broke eye contact, they didn't even blink.
They were silent once more until Spyro exhaled, calming himself, before he started to speak again.
He had this very stern authority leaking into his voice as he spoke to her.
"Cynder…what makes you think that Ivor is turning into a shadow dragon? More important, why do you think he'll be corrupted?"
The ebony-scaled dragoness sniffled as she tried to regain control of her rampant emotions. She snivelled and tried to hold back her tears, her body practically shaking and trembled from how. She dropped her head low and averted her eyes from looking into the eyes of her lover for a few moments, both ashamed and upset.
She didn't want to think like this but the worry was practically eating her alive.
"I…I recognise those signs. My memory of it might be slightly hazy because of how young I was but I'll never forget how awful I felt and what I went through, not to mention I don't want the other dragons in Warfang giving him trouble for it like others do for me."
Spyro just stared pityingly at his mate.
So the stares and bullying she continued to get from her past was still getting to her, practically colouring her views over all of this? But he wouldn't, no, he couldn't deny that Cynder had brought up some very good points about the subject; she knew better than anyone else what it was like to go through that sort of torment and, if she was right about the matter, then there must have been something she could have done to prevent it.
All Spyro could do was give his mate a gentle lick on the cheek, mopping up her tearstained cheeks.
The saltiness of her teardrops seeped through his tastebuds, overwhelming them, and he started to catch on how truly worried and upset the ebony dragoness truly was.
Cynder was a strong dragoness who didn't weep often, especially not as openly as this —she had been through the worst kind of corruption and more than any dragon should ever go through and had long since learned to keep her pain to herself and never talked about it unless it got too much to contain, she didn't want her past to define or be something that would make others think that it was the only thing that made her matter to anyone…
She didn't wish to stick out due to her own pain.
All Spyro could do to try and remedy the situation was lick her cheeks more and more while nuzzling her in what he hoped was both a soothing and comforting manner and he started to realise that she was beginning to truly calm down from her hysterical crying.
"I love you, sweetheart. You know that right?" He murmured, rubbing her face with his own shovel-like snout.
Cynder inhaled deeply through her nostrils, rubbing any remaining tears away with a forepaw, while returning the affectionate gesture.
"Yeah. I love you too, Spyro…"
The pair enjoyed their romantic embrace, basking in the warmth of one another, before the moment was all but shattered.
"MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!" Ivor could be heard shrieking.
The two sole survivors of The Year of the Dragon both felt their hearts jump into their throats as panic took over the two of them, both of their minds racing a mile a millisecond — what had happened? Was their son okay? Could his illness have developed further somehow? What had made their whelp scream out like that?
The two heroes of the world, without further ado, they both drug themselves clumsily off of the mattress whilst heaving themselves out from each side of the bed, heaving their own bodies out and their own bodies heavily slumping to the ground before they clumsily stood back up and proceeded to hurriedly and heavily clumped their collective pairs of four feet stampeding out of the room.
They ran through the corridors in a hurry, almost tripping over themselves in their rush, before they made it to their son's room to find out what had happened. They slammed the door open and stood in the open doorway, alas what they saw made their eyes widen and their jaws drop to the marble floor below.
Ivor was out of bed and had huddled in a corner, clearly scared.
He was sat on his haunches and was trying not to let his feet touch the ground because it appeared that part of him had seemingly phased into the ground and had become a part of his very own shadow, which stretched along the floor in front of him, of some sort.
Ivor had huge tears running down his muzzle and he whimpered softly, clearly frightened.
Cynder and Spyro were both horrified and they both grew pale.
It was true…Cynder's hunch could possibly be spot on…Ivor could, in fact, be a shadow dragon! But how could this be? Ivor had no exposure whatsoever to the Dark Master or his awful powers! Could it possibly be that…Cynder could have passed this on to him inadvertently so Ivor inherited this?
This shouldn't be happening!
Cynder rushed to Ivor's side and tried to calm him.
"Shhhhhh! Calm down, Ivor! Please calm down! We're here! we're right here and neither of us are gonna leave your side! Just slow down and breathe…"
Ivor's eyes were huge and his eyes had shrunken into pinpricks, his chalk white scales had became even paler (somehow), his red/magenta underbelly heaved in and out as he hyperventilated and tried to calm himself whilst still keeping all fours off of the ground to avoid sinking into the ground even further. The poor whelp couldn't stop shaking and trembling as he kept his terrified eyes locked on his mother's.
Spyro still stood in the doorway, helpless.
He didn't know what was going on but his mind was in chaos as he watched his mate interact with their son. He didn't know how this was happening, how Ivor was a shadow dragon in spite of the colour of his vibrant scales…he had a lot of questions to ask but nobody he knew could answer them.
He felt the urge to fly strike in his wings like a bolt of lightning while it shot down his legs and came to a boil inside of him. He wanted to go grab the guardians but he didn't want to either overwhelm Ivor with too many visitors while he's sick or have to leave him while he's scared and sick like this. He needed to show their boy that he was staying to give him support whenever he needed it.
Cynder smiled softly and spoke in an uplifting whisper of a voice, hoping her words would reassure her boy.
"Don't be afraid, sweetie. Let me show you something."
Cynder shut her eyes, focusing her abilities, before she, too, collapsed into a puff of dark smoke and phased into the floor. She (in her shadow form) moved alongside her son in a quick fashion but her (almost nonexistent) eyes were soft and soothing.
Ivor let out a tiny gasp as he looked down, watching as his mother became a shadow casting itself on the floor.
"Just let go, Ivor, baby. Mama's gonna be there with you."
Ivor let out a shuddering breath as he finally let himself collapse into a puff of black smoke before he, too, phased through the floor and became a shadow just like his mother. He was surprised that it didn't hurt or anything and having his mother there made him feel a little bit better about it to the point where his fear practically faded into almost nothing —he still felt a bit discomfort about the entire prospect…
"This is…kind of cool!" Ivor cheered, his shadowy form displaying a happy expression.
Cynder's shadowy silhouette of a form, too, displayed a pleased expression.
"I know right?"
"Ah…Ahhh…K'CHOOOO!" The shadowy small dragon suddenly let out an explosive sneeze, startling Spyro who was still coming to grips with this unexpected reality:
Ivor was a shadow dragon…
Spyro didn't know how he or Cynder would break this news to the Guardians or any other dragons since nobody knew what Ivor's abilities would consist of.
They didn't know he turn out to be a shadow dragon, especially without the (already established) influence of Malefor or any of that. But he wasn't looking forwards to it because, now that this truth had come to life, he didn't know what other surprises were in store when it came to his son's abilities; he'd still love his son, there was absolutely no doubt about that, but he couldn't help but begin to start fearing that Cynder's worries just might come true.
He shook his own head.
No.
He couldn't think like that!
The whelp would be fine.
Ivor was both Spyro and Cynder's son, he would overcome this…right?
Nobody had expected Sparx to show up as the little yellow dragonfly zipped up next to Spyro and was suddenly beholding what Ivor and Cynder were both doing together as shadows on the ground. The instant the dragonfly laid eyes on the scene he immediately started to freak out on the spot with his eyes bugging out of his head and his mouth hanging open as his jaw dropped to the ground.
"Hey, guys, how's my lil' nephew doin-WHAAAAAAT IS GOING ON!?"
Spyro rolled his eyes as he knew that the first person he'd have to explain this to was his own adopted brother.
A/N: Hi, everyone!
Heres a new chapter of Shadow Scales!
It turns out that Ivor is a shadow dragon, like Cynder, but how when he hasn't been exposed to Malefor? What would happen if Cynder's worries about Ivor becoming corrupted come to pass?
We shall find out!
You guys are awesome and I hope you are enjoying this fic!
-Chloemcg
