Disclaimer: I do not own ANY of the characters of Spyro the dragon, I don't know who exactly owns Spyro but I'm still saying I don't own anyone...except for Ivor.

Guardian scales

It was a tense time for the heroes of Avalar.

Spyro nor Cynder could hide their anxieties as they traversed through the crowded streets of Warfang, the Dragon capital.

The snowflakes had just started to fall as winter set in, thickened ice coated the cobblestone ground and made it look nice and sparkly. It made a few dragons slip and skid on the ground but they just bore through it and kept on walking to whatever endeavours they were doing.

The winter was coming and coming fast.

The legendary purple dragon and the black dragoness, went through a lot and had even teamed up in saving the world from literally shattering. During their adventure, they had also developed an unbreakable bond and those feelings just grew and grew as time went on until they started to love one another —they had come a long way from being an orphan with a destiny and a puppet being used for dark deeds.

Spyro and Cynder had grown up considerably as time went on.

Spyro had not only grown in size but also in length as his body became slightly less rugged over time and more slender. Not only that but he also had grown a few extra yellow horns such as a larger one on his chin and another much smaller one poking out from the edge of his snout. He had also sustained one or two scars due to his many battles.

Cynder grown to look eerily similar to the form she had taken on during her time being Malefor's monster with the exception of having much more sincere eyes, she also had much larger wings and (like Spyro) also had a much more slender body type. The horns/spikes poking out of the top of her head had become much harder too. She even had a long neck stretched up and her nimble yet sleek and slender physique.

They weren't entirely fully grown yet but they were well on their way.

After saving the world, they both became betrothed and they had also recently welcomed a new element into their lives.

The purple dragon and his mate had both become the proud parents of a healthy hatchling only two days before and they decided to introduce their whelp to the dragons who had helped raise the both of them —the guardians; Cyril, Terrador and Volteer.

Normally it was required for dragons to bring their offspring to the Guardians after three days or so after their child hatching and this was so the guardians could determine what elemental powers the whelps would potentially be able to wield.

His name was Ivor.

Baby Ivor had pure white scales (like chalk), little yellow horns —two yellow horns that had a slight upwards curve— on either side of his muzzle and two silver horns poking right out of either side atop his head. He had inherited his father's facial shape and his stomach and wings were coloured a bright magenta colour. He also inherited his mother's scythe-like tail.

He was a fine blend of his mother and father.

But, since this was the whelp of Spyro and Cynder, it was imperative that the guardians meet the youngling. It was custom for all dragons to bring their newborn whelps to the guardians so their futures could be assessed and so they could be properly blessed by some link to the ancestors. But, as Spyro and Cynder were a special case, letting the guardians see their whelp was not only about them examining him but it was also a social visit.

The two proud parents promptly ignored all the stares and looks they were receiving as they cantered through the bustling streets of Warfang; the stares ranged from disapproval (probably towards Cynder), amazement, disgust, wonderment and dumbfounded shock.

Cynder couldn't help but timidly crouch down as she kept holding her newborn in her mouth, carrying him by the scruff of his tiny scaly neck. She couldn't help but become very self-conscious every time she found angry and suspicious stares being trained upon her. It was blatantly obvious they were judging her for her past actions as Malefor's puppet but she really hoped that they also weren't directing their glares to her offspring.

It was unsettling...

The whelp appeared to have been very amused because of the bouncing he was experiencing with every step his mother took. Ivor couldn't laugh quite yet so the most he could do in showing he was enjoying this was a contented coo as his tail wagged from left to right.

She was also pretty sure she heard the phrases "kidnapped egg", "Doesn't look like either of them", "Looks like there's something wrong with it", "Who ever heard of a white dragon"...

Quite honestly, those comments attacking her baby made her want to attack them but she reigned in her fury and replaced it with cool and calm collectedness, especially thanks to Spyro who just wrapped a wing of support around her. He could feel her anxiety was quite palpable under the frame and skin of his wing and it was so palpable that he could easily feel the tension climbing up and down her spine.

The two carried on their weary way to the dragon temple.

It felt like an eternity drifted on by until the two dragons, one baby and one dragonfly arrived and were met by the guardians of ice, earth and electric; Cyril, Terrador and Volteer.

Spyro had decided to head inside first so their whelp's appearance could be a surprise to the elder dragons. The guardians received him, as well as Sparx, with warm welcomes and made sure to be as inviting and accommodating as possible since they had known full well how tiring looking after a newly-hatched whelp could be —they had been the care takers of eggs after all.

"Oh, it's such a joy to see you, Spyro!" Cyril exclaimed joyously.

Spyro chuckled warmly.

"Thanks! Nice to see you guys too!"

Terrador joined in on the joviality.

"How has things been with the whelp?

Spyro would have scratched the back of his head if only he had hands; he felt exhaustion and fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks due to the sleepless nights he and his mate had to endure, he tried to shake it off but it was difficult to ignore the exhaustion in his mind. Besides, he knew that Cynder probably had it worse than he could have even imagined...

Nevertheless, he put on a lax smile and tried his best to let a casual edge slip into his voice.

"Everything's been perfectly fine! Things couldn't be easier!"

Terrador quirked a dubious brow at the younger purple dragon, clearly noting the bags sagging beneath his bloodshot amethyst eyes that were flecked with red and pink blotches. Clearly he didn't believe him for a second.

"Really? Your bedraggled appearance tells a different story, young dragon."

Before Spyro could even try and open his mouth to make an objection, Sparx decided to interject.

"Ooooh, you bet! We've all had it rough! Especially with the crying and the fact that he used me as a chew toy and a rattle..." Sparx harrumphed as he rolled his eyes and folded his arms in a huff.

Spyro scowled at the little yellow dragonfly and was quick to admonish him.

"Sparx!"

The guardians burst out into laughter in response to the purple dragon and the dragonfly, hoping to provide some levity to the atmosphere; it was somewhat amusing but also pitiable to see how Spyro was coping with helping to care for a newly-hatched dragon whelp, they felt excited about the prospect of the hero of warfang —the legendary purple dragon they had watched over as an egg during the year of the dragon of which prophecies foretold— had a hatchling they could help bring up on occasion.

Being there to help the next generation along was a riveting experience.

Speaking of which...

The laughter died down as Volteer spoke up whilst looking about.

"If you pardon my inquiry, Spyro, but where is the whelp and Cynder for that matter?"

Spyro just smirked at the three guardians and then cast a look over his shoulder to glance over at the door behind him.

"Okay, Cyn! Bring him in."

Upon being given the go ahead, the black dragoness entered the room to introduce her hatchling to the guardians and every single pair of eyes drifted to the tiny dragon whelp hanging from Cynder's mouth, watching as it squirmed and cooed softly.

The anticipation the guardians felt shifted instantly, the joyous mood had been sucked right out of the room and everything became so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Terrador, Volteer and Cyril just stared at the hatchling in pure disbelief.

Terrador reacted just by gawping at the view.

Cyril gasped disbelievingly. "B-By the ancestors claw!"

Volteer stared as he uttered in a shocked exclamation. "A wh-wh-white dragon...! I was not cognisant of the apparent existence of any more white dragons as I departed from the philosophy that the only one left in existence was the one and only Chronicler!"

Spyro and Cynder looked at one another.

This was not the reaction that they had expected.

They had anticipated there to be joy, but they weren't expecting this sort of reaction...!

In the meantime, Sparx blinked perplexedly at what the fast-talking electric guardian as he tried to comprehend and wrap his mind around what jargon he had just heard. The yellow dragonfly scratched his head, minding his antennae, and cocked his head to one side to communicate his perplexed bewilderment.

"Huh?"

Spyro managed to regain his bearings after noticing the utter perplexity on his companion's face. He rolled his eyes slightly and decided to translate what Volteer had said in a way that his adopted brother could understand, even though his own tone of voice carried an undercurrent of surprise from the news.

"He said that he didn't know that anymore white dragons existed and that he thought that the only one was the Chronicler."

"Please, Cynder, might we examine him?" Terrador asked out of both a begging of understanding and out of worry.

Cynder hesitated for a moment, she still felt very protective of her little Ivor. She just wanted to do nothing but hold him closely and guard him to stop him from getting hurt...but at the same time, she trusted the guardians and didn't want them to think that she didn't trust them because she did. She felt very reluctant to relinquish her son.

The loquacious newly-hatched whelp squeaked and squirmed loudly as he hung from his mother's maw, clearly objecting to whatever the old dragons were about to do.

The black dragoness passed Ivor over to Terrador, who just gently gripped him in his mouth by the scruff but he stiffened when the whelp started to whimper and whine as he seemed to sense that he was no longer in his mother's grip, his little face squished as tears threatened to roll down his little face.

The edge of his little snout crinkled up and his eyes screwed shut, his wings stiffened.

Everyone in the room flinched when they saw how the hatchling was about to burst into tears and the look on the babe's muzzle was utterly heart-shattering; Cynder was especially saddened by seeing such an expression on her little one's face, as a new mother seeing such a sad look on her only son's face made her heart threaten to shatter there and then.

She didn't want to see her baby cry.

Spyro immediately went to try and remedy the situation.

The purple dragon moved into a position where Ivor could see him and put on the most comforting smile he could.

"Oh no, don't cry! It's okay, little guy, we're right here! Look!" He said in a hushed voice, trying to sound as soothing as possible. Whenever he'd see his little son get upset (especially around strangers) it would cause his heart to ache and threaten to shatter into pieces and seeing such a pitiful look on the little whelp's face only served to make it worse.

Sadly, the purple dragon's attempt at calming his son made it all worse.

He was startled when Sparx popped up.

"Stand aside, bro, I bet I can put a smile on the lil' guys face!"

Spyro tried to stop his adopted brother from probably worsening the situation.

"Errr, Sparx, I don't think that'll-"

"Uncle Sparx is coming to the rescue!"

"Hey! Ivor! Look at this!" Sparx pulled what he thought was a funny face. "Look at uncle Sparx!"

Alas that only ended up in making Ivor squeal even louder than before. He recoiled when the volume of the baby dragon's cries increased, upset that he just made his nephew feel worse, and just folded his arms once again whilst grumbling.

"Hmph! Everyone's a critic..."

"May I try something?" Cynder offered, her eye ridges furrowing to create a look of concern on her muzzle.

Terrador, Cyril and Volteer all looked at the ebony-scaled dragoness as though she were insane and glanced to each other for a brief moment before looking back at Cynder; they were experienced with handling fussy hatchlings but, since it had been many millennia since they had last reared a whelp themselves, they didn't feel qualified to soothing this newborn and so they had decided to let Cynder work her motherly magic without a shred of reluctance.

Cynder took her hatchling back and had taken to sitting down on her haunches, sitting up straight, lifting her tail and coiling it to make a nest-like shape where the whimpering babe could fit in. Within instants, Ivor was placed gently in the coil made in his mother's tail.

The volume of Ivor's crying dwindled as he seemed to sense that he was back in his mother's hold.

The black dragoness leaned down, craning her long neck, and nuzzled her baby with a boatload of affection. She couldn't help but nuzzle him because her baby was so cute and squishy that it was near impossible to fight the urge to do so whenever the urge to snuggle him overcame her. She felt the warmth seep from his white scales and she inhaled his sweet scent, she could snuggle him forever and be perfectly content with it.

Ivor seemed to enjoy being nuzzled by his mother but he was still whimpering and sobbing.

"Shhhhhhhh...its alright, my little one...Mama's here,"

Cynder reluctantly parted as she had a job to do, she centred herself for a moment before she closed her eyes and started to sing.

"Oh holy land, come
Ancient land spirit."

The black dragoness didn't open her eyes and just kept singing, her voice soft and gentle.

"Take up my hand
And guide me..."

Ivor kept whimpering loudly, his wings folded up against his sides and his mouth quivered with upset and he shuddered.

"Pull me to shore,
Rivers are rising.
Look in this heart
And find meee..."

Spyro and the other guardians watched in sheer awe as they took in Cynder's soothing singing voice, their eyes wide and their jaws on the ground.

They never would have thought that Cynder would be capable of singing so beautifully; it hardly felt like such a long time ago when she was serving as Malefor's puppet. Who knew that not only would she have made such a fine mother but also how beautiful she sang when it came to comforting her frightened hatchling?

Cynder kept singing, vaguely aware of the fact that Ivor had started settling down.

"I've lost my way,
Your voice is silent.
I need you here,
to remind meee..."

Cynder hung her head and placed a claw to her heart, singing straight from there.

"Show me now,
How to find my home."

She reopened her teal eyes and raised her head as she eyed Spyro.

"All I am,
Surrender..."

She looked down at Ivor who had apparently stopped whimpering by now and had made slightly contented cooing noises as he seemed to settle down from being so upset and saddened earlier on. Cynder felt relief flood through her soul and she smiled despite carrying her tiny whelp in her mouth, she was happy that her lullaby was working its magic.

"Let the water flow right trough this broken soul..."

Baby Ivor finally seemed to finally relax as he stretched his mouth open wide and let out a yawn. He curled up into a little ball in midair, his eyelids drooping over his new amethyst eyes. His wings stretched and clapped and he let out tired little snuffs from his nostrils.

He looked so peaceful...and adorable.

After it was established that Ivor should just stay in Cynder's embrace, the guardians resumed discussing the shocking fact that the son of Cynder and Spyro was a white dragon —apparently that was way more rare than a purple dragon since the only White dragon ever recorded before now was the Chronicler.

Terrador, Volteer and Cyril discussed Ivor's future.

"We have no idea what kind of abilities that the ancestors shall bestow upon this young one. He could become a shadow dragon like Cynder, he could probably control time, he could have the most unique of abilities...we have no idea what the future has in store for this youngling..."

Cyril glanced down at the oblivious hatchling hanging securely from Cynder's mouth.

Terrador nodded in agreement with the ice guardian.

"We'll need to keep a close eye on this little fellow, it will probably be very difficult to tell what's in store for little Ivor here."

Spyro and Cynder looked at one another for a long moment then they smiled.

"If we saved the world and survived unscathed, I'm sure that we can take on our son..."

A/N: Heres the second part of my Scales series, where the guardians meet Ivor for the first time.

I am proud of how my fics are going and I hope you enjoy them just as much and I even included some wintry elements to make it go with one of my other fics, "Home for winter".

Have a wonderful day and safe, everyone!

-Chloemcg