Frozen Ramparts
Author's Note: I… Goodness. It's been a while fellas. It's been more than a while and for that, I'm really sorry for the wait. But here it is, Chapter eight in all its glory. I say glory but… Gosh. It's scary hopping back in the saddle. However, I never would have been able to do it without Dardarax, GoldenGriffiness, and 4Dragons help. They've all been so supportive and helpful in the making of this chapter. Couldn't have done it without you guys. Also, since it's been a long break this chapter's a couple thousand words longer than usual. ENJOY!
That being said… There is a song I've selected for this chapter. The designated section to play the song will be marked by double line breaks.
Song: (Remastered) Dark Souls III Original Soundtrack Full - Oceiros, The Consumed King
Along the walls of the frozen coast, withered frozen bones creaked beneath icy scales, the misshapen image of a dragon breaching and diving through the ocean's surface to unleash tidal waves. Each one crashed into a protective dome that surrounded a great city of ice.
Teeth gnashed and ground together, the repetitive haunting screams of pain and anguish rage inducing. Continuing to circle the metropolis from the ocean, the dragon numbed his mind with disconnected thoughts.
Spines burst out, icicles piercing his back as he roared in frustration and hate. Gnarled and twisted bone heaved and ached beneath loosely scaled skin, pushing him through the water along with the propelling thrusts from his tail.
Sea serpents and ice wyverns rose up from below him, launching through the water surface onto frozen land and bitter sky. A choir of hisses, roars, and screeches filled his ears every time he breached; they were maddening, endless.
The water grew thick, sheets of ice forming in the water as he swam and slowly turned to slush; a bitterly frozen cold aura surrounded him.
The strength of vengeance was his to command.
Mind blind with rage and discontent, the drake readied bitter frozen blades, vengeance in sight.
There was a murmuring chorus of nods and words from the dragons in the church, jumbled together in a moment disorganization. An underlying sense of urgency radiated throughout the room, dragons desperately discussing shared thoughts and ideas in hopes of bringing together anything that made sense.
Mothers and fathers consoled their children, promising comfort and sanctuary; both lies and truths were spoken. Words were only a temporary comfort though.
The flutter of wings and rasp of scales and talons against stone could be heard as dragons hurried and wandered about the rejuvenated church, taking the time to set up proper living quarters for hatchlings and elders alike. The sight brought a smile to Amphious's face, as well as Eliesia's.
For millennia, the church had been cold, obvious to any trespassers that it had been abandoned. Some places are not a province for the living.
"This Cathedral was one of my homes away from home… To see life burning in it again…" Eliesia gave an emotional laugh, a single tear dripping from her eye to fizzle on her cheek.
"You're welcome," Amphious smirked with a light tap of his wooden cane.
Nerves steeled, the maroon dragoness reared her head proudly, mask falling into place; she had gone too long with it off.
"Do not part with your illusions, your heart. When they are gone, you may still exist, but you will have ceased to live and lose yourself to the hunger," the old wolf added as he walked away.
Eliesia watched, eyes fluttering as she watched the mysterious prophet make his way through the crowd of bustling dragons. Looking back, the emerald-eyed dragoness could see Spyro and Cynder talking amongst themselves.
"You didn't have to stand up for me. I'm not the same dragon I was before, Spyro," Cynder piped, talons lifted up to gesture to herself.
"I know," was the purple dragons reply. He wore a contagious smile.
The scratching of talons on stone drew all eyes to the approaching maroon dragoness, her striking emerald eyes burning with newfound determination. The pulsating veins of magma between her scales seemed brighter, waves of heat radiating off of her.
"We need to go, Amphious will watch over Odeum." Without another word she made her way to the archway, looking back over her shoulder.
"I'll explain on the way."
Cynder's jaw opened and closed, unsure whether to protest or agree. Spyro only nodded, watching the female dragon make her way to the mouth of the church. Facing back around, violet eyes met brisk sea green.
Cynder watched Spyro close the distance between the two of them mind suddenly well aware of how close he was getting.
Head downcast in thought the purple drake pondered the situation, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.
"I'm glad you're back and you're by my side."
Cheeks flashing red she smiled at the ground, mind swirling with memories of the two of them fighting alongside one another. Looking up revealed that she was left standing alone, head pivoting in search of her friend.
With a calm and relaxed breath, Cynder briskly strode to the entrance of the church, pace quickening as she caught up the team of dragons at the edge of the forest. With an understanding nod of her head to the three of them, they pushed into the woods, launching into the sky.
A strong mountain breeze washed over three scaled figures spiraling through the night. The moon radiated with incandescence, waves of light washing over purple, scarlet, and ebony scales as they traveled at an apprehensive glide.
"Is this the right way? None of this looks familiar," Cynder queried, gliding next to Spyro.
The purple dragon shook his head, scanning the ground for any indication of direction. Cynder hung at his side, drifting slightly behind the dragons left wing.
"I'm not sure if this is the way to Shiverum. Everything… Changed…"
Gothic style ruins sporadically dotted the ground, half buried beneath ash and fire blossom. Twisted trees and shrubbery could be seen practically growing before their very eyes.
Spyro looked between the two dragonesses, eyebrow and mouth muscles twitching as if in a facial drawn shrug.
"She seems fairly confident in her ability to navigate," Cynder regarded quizzically.
Eliesia craned her neck, looking back at the two flanking dragons as they spoke to one another.
"We can't afford to fly over Warfang. It'll draw too much attention. We're taking a long way around.
Cynder's eyes narrowed inquisitively, lips twitching and head throbbing along with the beat of wings.
"She's hiding something from us, I know it. She doesn't tell us anything," she practically spat out, imaginary daggers sharpened with distrust.
Spyro shook his head, disregarding the statement as he clapped his wings to maintain altitude.
"This is her past… She just has trouble remembering." Spyro's tone wasn't confrontative. Firm, but less definitive.
"Or she's a good liar…"
With an exasperated look at the black scales dragon, Spyro eyed her dubiously, obviously not convinced.
"Eliesia! Should we expect someone you know," he called out to her, the pace of his wings speeding up as a means to reach her.
The maroon scales dragoness's expression held a grim look, eyes glossed over as they looked forward blankly. Her neck muscles strained, jaw muscles tightening until her teeth ached.
Cynder's wings flapped, gliding just behind her friend.
"Can you tell us something? Anything," she tested.
Spyro looked to the vast wasteland below, eyes scanning the floor but not seeing, staring off as he thought.
"What of Moldrar? You said the Chapel was once his," The purple dragon inquired. He turned to the maroon dragoness, eyes pulled upwards as he forced his gaze away from the ashen ground.
Cynder couldn't help but glance at her friend, mind brimming with imaginative scenarios. The ebony dragoness quickly recovered herself, mask sliding into place as she listened to Eliesia's words.
Elesia's thoughts drifted. There… she felt memories tugging at her mind, a trickle, a crack in an impossible dam.
There was a flash of a smile, pleasant but forlorn. As if recalling a fond memory with bittersweet remembrances.
"Divinology. He forefronted the exploitation of his element, pushing his power to its constructive limits so as to create a means of technology." There were points where it was obvious she was suppressing a laugh while her eyes blinked rapidly to hold back tears.
"Failure is the mother of Invention," She suddenly added.
There were scrutinizing looks among the faces of her colleagues, minds in obvious contemplation over the meaning of the words.
"His adage," she clarified.
The whistling and rushing of wind took over, a deep silence hanging among the quartet of dragons as they continued to fly. Distant groans and rumbles could be heard below, the soot-covered ground quaking as the world's surface changed.
Eliesia took a deep inhale of breath through her nose, breaking the quiet with a grunt and a shake of her head. Flecks of ash whipped against her cheeks, their warm kiss drawing her eyes to a close; a more relaxed breath came out.
The two other dragons turned away, expressions distant and pondering. Spyro's claws twitched, delicately tracing the outlines of his recently healed wounds. The pain was absent, replaced with a spreading warmth, a surreal comfort that brought up another question.
"What was your church?" The question came out before he could stop it, mentally cursing himself for letting his lips slip.
"Healing," was all that came in reply.
In truth, Spyro never expected a reply. However, he somehow wasn't surprised by the answer, mind having already subconsciously connected the dots. Meanwhile, Cynder listened to the exchange with more provocative questions crowding her mind. Unfortunately, neither dragon held a will strong enough to ask them aloud though; they looked to each other.
A bitter breeze washed over the team of dragons, sending Cynder into a fit of shivers while the remaining dragons looked onwards.
"I don't expect the city to be in better conditions than Warfang," Eliesia's tone warned.
Not altering course the dragons drew closer, storms blizzard winds and snow tugged at their sense of direction, crowding the air and their vision. Cynder's heart beat in her ears, thumping like a drum in her head. Her scales frosted, warmth quickly being absorbed from her body by the surrounding air.
The freezing wind whipped at their wings, snowflakes like razors biting at their membrane and eyes. Only the dampened radiating warmth of Eliesia offered any semblance of hope or direction.
Suddenly, the storm ceased. All four dragons opened their eyes, blinking and shivering away flakes of built-up snow. All three dragons halted in their course, taking time to look on in awe.
The city of Shiverum, a shimmering city of ice, cold stone and wisdom stood under attack. It rested on a frozen island, connected to the mainland by large raisable bridges. A massive crystalline dome rested over its entirety like a protective globe, guarding its inhabitants against the torrent of swarming undead dragons. Distant anguish roars and screams of hollowed out dragons sent shivers down Spyro and Cynder's spines.
The purple dragon looked away, hoping that the sounds would disappear if he gave them no notice. Meanwhile, Cynder ground her teeth, eyes forced shut against the maddening cries. Everything was wrong. None of it made sense.
Thunderous explosions shook the pair from their inner torment. They watched as the swarming dragons crashed and fired at the massive shield, cracks spider webbing under the immense strain and pressure.
"We have to do something," Spyro proclaimed.
"Of course but how do we help from out here? We're outnumbered," Cynder advised, nodding to the swarm of dragons.
"There's a hidden entrance. If it isn't locked we can get into the city unnoticed. Hopefully."
"Will it be open with the city under attack," Eliesia checked, wind and snowflakes whipping past her snout and eyes. The distant crash of waves against icy walls drew her attention. There was a heavy tenor in the air; it made her heart ache.
Spyro gave no reply.
"Well just have to take a chance. If it's closed, we can find another way." Cynders tone was hopeful, attemptedly reassuring.
"No. It's not that simple. To get to it we have to go under the city, through the water. I'm sure Eliesia and I can make the trip. We have our fire element to warm us."
Everyone paused, the unrelenting gravity of their decision beginning to set in. Cynder unawaredly shivered.
"My Shadow element. I can fade through the-"
"Won't work," Eliesia interrupted.
Spyro gave a grim nod, face downcast to avoid looking the ebony dragoness in the eyes.
"If we get under the city and the entrance is sealed… you'll freeze before you can get out." Eliesia's tone was stoic.
"Maybe we can split up? I'll-" Spyro tried to bargain.
"No. We stay together." Cynder cut him off. "Either way we need to move."
Cynder wouldn't leave Spyro's side, mind already made up as she thought back to all the years she spent alone. The risk was something the Black dragoness had to take. Looking up to Elieisa, Cynder gave a nod before turning to the purple dragon beside her.
Eliesia took the signal, flying off in the direction of the city while the fated pair followed behind.
Spyro cursed under his breath before gazing at the black dragoness beside him, eyes filled with internal hurt and grim apprehension.
"Why do this? Why go through with it? I don't want to lose you again," His voice wavered, threatening to pull the rest of him apart as he spoke.
The purple drake studied her, memorizing every detail of her face. She looked so calm, determined as she drew closer to what could possibly be the last time he would see her alive.
Cynder felt every word hit her like the strike of a hammer, cracking the faith the dragoness held in her decision up until that moment. 'I love you,' she wanted to say.
"You won't," Came out instead.
Looking forward, Cynder watched Eliesia disappear into freezing deep water. Casting one last look to her friend, Cynder closed her eyes.
Frigid water washed over her, forcing her eyelids open in shock. Thick curtains of bubbles rose to the surface, shrouding her vision but slowly returning. The warmth in her chest faded, dissipating into pain, next came the numbness.
The water pressed in, ears ringing from the pressure before fading. The ebony dragoness swirled, kicking her legs and wings to right herself in the water. Cynder froze, lungs tightening and chest burning with adrenaline.
When something truly frightening grips you, it is said all one can do is watch as it consumes you.
The oceanic void… The vast expanse of unfamiliar and unexplored terrain.
It was dark, uninviting. The dragoness could only stare, eyes cast down to watch the deep eerie abyss beneath her. Vertigo set in...
The quiet… It made her ears ring. Shadows danced along the corners of her vision, hallucinations of something sinister. Were they hallucinations? Inexplicable horrors conjured by her mind?
If fear had a sound, it would be found in the ocean… Lurking… Like everything else it held. The worst was the quiet, menacing by nature. There was no sense of life, nor a feeling of tranquility as others had referred to it; It was all a lie. She never expected such a petrifying quietness, a stillness that whispered sinister promises.
The dragoness began to sink.
She couldn't inhale… a daunting reminder that death was only a breath away. As if in realization of her panic, Cynder's body convulsed spastically, thrashing in a fear induced response. Once, twice; it stopped at the third.
Already her lungs began to burn, neck reaching up in a helpless effort to prevent herself from being swallowed whole by the lightless depths.
The dark crept in, icy tendrils that wrapped around her legs and neck, pulling her further down. It nipped and bit, working its way under her scales until it was painful to move. She felt her mind go numb with fear, paralysis tightening its hold on her body.
Cynder's vision faded, darkness setting in.
Something wrapped around her waist. A tail? Warmth washed over her midsection, spreading upwards in a protective blanket, blocking out some of the dark. The dragoness felt herself being pulled upwards, the warmth comforting but not strong enough to block out the cold entirely.
Everything was so dark.
Cynder breached the surface, basking in the breathable air while her heart pumped in her chest. Sound, she could hear sound again.
Blinking the black from her eyes, Cynder pivoted her head, waiting for her vision to come back.
"Cynder?! What happened? You disappeared as soon as we hit the water," Spyro questioned, worry prevalent in his voice.
Colors blurred into existence, eliciting a relieved exhale from the ebony dragoness. Claws reaching out to touch Spyro's tail, Cynder traced where it lead.
"Spy-" Cynder paused.
Eliesia lay flat against the ground, chest heaving with every breath. Her scales were faded, dulled to a darker shade. The black dragoness watched, eyes tracing the exhausted and soaked form of the stranger.
"You…?" The question was more an exhale of breath than an actual word.
Eliesia didn't answer as she slowly stood, water and sloshy frost bitten ice melting off of her scales.
Cynder regarded the other female silently.
Spyro looked over his shoulder, quickly regarding the room. Guards clad in armor surrounded the team of dragons, lips turned up in a snarl. Tail Blades poised to strike, the purple drake stood up slowly.
"We're from Warfang. We came to help. I'm looking for Aquaria."
Frost blue columns rose into the air, towering above the heads of even the largest dragons in the room. Intricate designs decorated their exterior along with violet banners that draped down to dangle above Spyros head. Overturned tables and shelves lay strewn across the floor, shattered vases and ornaments scattered among them like rubble; the entire hall looked ransacked.
A sudden burst of tremors sent a number or remaining breakable to the ground, joining the rest of the debris.
"Spyro!?" The voice was female. However, the familiarity gave Spyro a moment of relief, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
A rift formed between the surrounding perimeter, a sea green dragoness spotted with violet blossoms, elegantly trimmed mane that stretched her entire length and winter elk antlers for horns stepped out from among the paladins.
"Poetry," Spyro confirmed, stepping forward to meet the drake. "I wasn't sure if you made it out of Warfang." Both dragons embraced one another.
"The ancients were with me Spyro. Besides, you know I wouldn't let anything happen to me," The dragoness joked. Poetry's personality was a wave of light and joy that eased Spyro's nerves. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived.
"Where's your mother?"
"We just met and you're already casting me aside for my mother," She teased.
"I'm here," a voice interrupted, feminine and daunting. Aquaria stepped between the crowd of guards, normally regal pearl scales tarnished with scrapes and smoke residue; she had been in combat.
"Aquaria, it's so good to see you, both of you," Spyro gestured between the ice dragons.
Cynder stood up slowly, knees shaking under her weight. The dragoness coughed, body collapsing into a fit of shivers and sniffles. The purple dragon rushed back, lifting her off the cold floor.
"We need to get her warm," Elesia abruptly spoke up, heat radiating off of her. Any water still clinging to the maroon scales evaporated.
"We have bonfires burning in the great hall for refugees. We'll take her there," a guard chimed in, already propping the ebony dragoness up under her wing.
"I'll go with her," added Eliesia, tagging along.
Spyro hesitated, paws automatically trying to follow his friend, desperately wanting to ensure her safety. He couldn't lose her. He just got her back. The drake tracked the dragons as they departed from the group, violet eyes watching every step. A loud groan signaled a massive set of doors opening into what looked to be a foyer; heat filtered in. Muscles straining the purple drake craned his neck, slowly watching his comrades and friend disappear into a bustling crowd of refugees. The ground and walls shuttered as the door closed, shaking Spyro from the worrisome trance.
"Refugees?" The violet veteran turned to Aquaria and Poetry.
The dragoness gave a firm nod meanwhile Poetry shoved a piece of wooden shelving from under her paws.
"After the attack on Warfang, I lead a group of citizens here. I had hoped they would be safe."
"Tell me how I can help."
"My priority is the civilians. Right now I'm working on an evacuation plan, one that can get everyone out safely."
"But we need soldiers at the front gates. The cities barrier isn't as strong as we would like it right now and if it breaks we someone like you in our ranks," Poetry Added.
"Ancients help us," a guard whispered woefully.
"I don't think they'll hear you," Poetry half-joked.
A thunderous roar groaned beneath the ice, harrowing cry muffled by the thick sheeted floor. The purple drake stopped, glancing to Poetry.
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath their paws, cracks spider webbing across like the ground was made of glass. Everything fell quiet, the guards in the room looking at one another nervously.
The floor collapsed, giving way under Spyro's paws and sending the dragon into the bitter water. The icy slush frothed, lapping at the corners of the shattered ground.
"Spyro!" Poetry made to dive after but the pull of Aquaria's tail against her wing held the ice dragon in place.
"Let me go. I'll get Spyro while you protect the civilians," the young dragon ordered, struggling to escape her mother's grasp.
The dragoness paused, stunted breath hitching in her throat as she made to confront. However, the weight Poetry carried behind her glare made her stop. The guardian hesitated, grip loosening before letting go altogether, tail falling to the floor in a heap.
The ice dragoness dove into without another word.
"By the ancients let her return to me," she whispered.
Aquaria spun on her heels, lips pursed as she bore into her troops.
"You three, follow Poetry. Fight off whatever is down there."
A nod of their heads and the dragons followed, water splashing against Aquaria's heels as they dove into the water.
"The rest of you! Follow me! We need to get the refugees out of the great hall before whatever made that hole decides to make a few more!"
Doors swung open, rattling against the wall while guards flooded out, rallying citizens.
Aquaria felt her attention drawn to the eastern wall, eyes locked on the stain glass image of an ice drake surrounded by tomes and scrolls. Nauseation rolled in the guardian's abdomen, stomach threatening to spoil itself; she forced her gaze away.
"Oh ancients, Return both of them to me."
An engraving rested below, inscription faded and weathered beyond recognition. However, in another time the words read, "Ezrom, Lord Of Shiverum."
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Pain flashed up from Spyro's tail, stomach lurching in an effort to stop himself from feeling sick. Teeth dug into the dragon's scales, purple platelets and blood drifting through the water. In a moments notice, Spyro felt himself being dragged downwards, ears ringing as the pressure grew with every passing second. Desperation took hold, claws lashing out wildly. Luckily something landed, claws tearing into what felt like a nostril. The sudden release sent the drake into spins.
Legs and wings kicking, the drake worked to upright himself. All the while, his head turned on a swivel, scanning the dark depths for any sign of what attacked him. Slowly, the cold began to creep in, working its way into the drake's scales and numbing his body. Focusing, Spyro ignited a flame in his chest, life-giving warmth immediacy returning to his body; his tail throbbed.
The dragon spun himself in the water, eyes wrought with panic as they chanced a look at what had attacked him.
A large shadow dangled at the edge of his sight line, wavering in out of darkness to paint terrifying grim pictures. It was obviously an ice drake, easily able to maneuver through the water as well as withstand the bitter temperatures with no effect to his stamina.
The figure disappeared, a hollowing moan reverberating through the dark water. A set of talons rested on Spyro's shoulder, startling him out of his petrified trance. Poetry pulled back, paws kicking in the water to keep from sinking.
Spyro's heart throbbed painfully, adrenaline kicking on and off too rapidly for his body to adjust.
Water pressed in on the head of both dragons, the waters temperature diving even lower, if that was even possible. Frost and slush collected in various places on Spyro's body, making it difficult to move. What was this?
There was no sign of movement. Despite the fact, both dragons would have felt more comfortable seeing anything than face the intimidating dread of aimlessness. Guards surrounded the pair, protective formation covering all sides and flanks.
Suddenly, Ice blades torpedoed through the water, picking off the guards one by one. Spyro and Poetry spun wildly, periodically glancing to one another to make sure neither had been picked off. Another groan sounded in the abyss.
Both dragons lurched, bodies thrown upwards in the water as they were swept up by strong wings. Both Spyro and Poetry braced themselves. A thunderous crash shattering the eerie silence as three bodies ruptured through the icy foundation of Shiverum. All three dragons landed in a public square.
Skywards, Shiverum's barrier cracked, shield slowing bowing inwards. The cities beacons faltered, beams of light that rose up to the forcefield sputtering until nothing shone. Ruptured, the panels of protective magic collapsed. They melting into clouds of ice and snow that drifted down into the city, their surreal beauty a terrifying omen.
Panicked civilian screams immediately had begun to sound. All the dragons scattered, tumbling over one another. Some took to the skies only to be met with invading force.
Meanwhile, The change in atmosphere and temperature was jarring, leaving the purple dragon in a daze meanwhile Poetry took a stance.
Before her stood a sickly sight, a dragon with scales that clung to bone tighter than fur skin left out in the sun for too long. The unholy upbringing left the menace with terrible blank eyes, sunk into its skull. The dragon was more a corpse than anything Poetry had laid eyes upon since Warfang. The term hollow was a truly befitting name.
Despite such weathered features, the ice drake showed no signs of weakness. Mouth turned up in a snarl, frost drifted down from his open mouth in plumes of pearl white dust. It collected in crystals, jaggedly rising up from the ground in deadly spikes.
Spyro's body shuddered as he stood, violet scales jingling like armor to loosen puffs of slush that collected in heaps at the purple dragon's paws.
Ezrom's attention shifted, eyes glaring daggers into the recovering dragon. Poetry moved along his left flank. However, the young dragoness was halted as Ezrom's rueful stare snapped to her.
Breath hitched, Poetry became consciously aware of how fast her own heart was racing in her chest. A bell rang from above the courtyard. The distant screams and battle cries of citizens and paladins echoed across the city.
A noise like thunder cut through the eerie calm, a purple blur followed by a stream of yellow crashed into the hostile lord. Ezrom jaws clamped, giving an audible snap while deadly spears of crystal ice firing wildly into the air. One grazed Poetry's left horn.
Spyro thunder crashed into the drake, left shoulder rocketing into his chest and lifting up to uphurl the monstrous Thaumaturge.
Wings holstered, Poetry charged in, pushing off with her hind legs to launch into the air before rocketing downwards. Unfortunately, Ezroms tail swung wide, catching the dragoness in the jaw and sending her spiraling to the ground.
Ezrom kicked, talons clawing Spyro's underbelly as the purple dragon was flung through the air. Breath hitched, Spyro strained against the pain. Looking up Ezrom was back on all for paws. The sickly dragon launched into the air, wings wrapping around his body. A beam of ice suddenly careened towards Spyro. A boulder barrier lurched upwards from the ground, cracks spider webbing beneath the beams gaze.
Head tucked in Spyro rolled, body molding into a boulder that sped across the outer rim of the courtyard. Poetry stood up, legs pivoting so that the dragoness performed an elegant butterfly kick that launched a concentrated blast of ice directly into Ezrom's muzzle. The undead drake retaliated, wings thrusting upwards a pillar of ice rocketed from beneath Poetry's feet and sending the dragoness into a nearby building.
Spyro's Tail reached out to launch a fire strike, the concentrated flame staggered the ice dragons attack. Wings faltering, Ezrom opened, gliding down before turning upwards above the city.
Spyro unrolled, rushing to the collapsed dragoness, icy rubble scattering beneath his frantic paws. The young female stood, legs wide to keep herself standing. A shake of her head and both dragons looked up just in time to dodge a frozen spear attack that punctured the floor where they had previously stood.
Poetry stood up first, looking to Spyro just in time to see the purple dragon get plucked from the ground by a white chain that hooked around the drake's neck.
Maw sputtering, Spyro's talons lashed at the freezing bonds tied around his neck. Blood seeped from self-inflicted wounds, turning the pearl white noose a vile crimson. Talons and paws tingling, the purple drake coughed. Mind struck with panic, Spyro's tail whipped up, slicing the tether centimeters above his head.
Ezrom roared.
Wings opening to catch the purple hero, Spyro's body acted on autopilot, haphazardly flapping in the vain attempt to keep the drake airborne. White danced around the corner of his eyes, slowly receding to reveal reality.
Fear gripped his heart, stomach fluttering uneasily. The violet dragon curled, boulder amassing around him protectively. The mass of rock and dragon crashed through cold stone brick, thundering into the floor of Shiverum in a trail of debris and destruction.
Poetry tailed behind Ezrom, flinging what looked like explosive snow blasts. Ezrom banked left, circling around the bell tower above the clearing. There came a sudden flash of light bright enough to force Poetry's paws over her eyes.
Lids blinking rapidly, Poetry looked forwards to see Ezrom tunneling towards her, maw wide to reveal crystal razors for teeth.
Forced to go down, Poetry collapsed her wings plummeting towards the city until catching herself above the ground; she swept between buildings. Ezrom snarled, gliding above the smaller ice dragon waiting for an opening.
Hollow undead raided the city streets, wolves, serpents snow leopards panthers and dragons alike, desperately fighting against ancient brethren in their crusade for destruction.
Poetry dived beneath an archway. Somersaulting through the air, she unfurled her wings horizontally. It slowed the young dragons flight pattern to a halt, keeping the dragoness beneath the bridge's obscurity and away from Ezrom's gaze.
The roar of wind signaled the dead dragons passing, allowing Poetry a moment of freedom to launch up behind him. She attacked, a volley of razor-sharp sheets of ice flinging forwards to cut at the hostile thaumaturge's wing membrane.
Head rattling the purple drake swung right, snow collecting on top of his wing membrane until let loose by the beating of his wings. Eyes tracing the distant form of Ezrom, the purple drake rocketed upwards into the sky. The sounds of the city faded.
All was quiet.
Heart racing, heat radiated off of Spyro's scales. The purple drake roared, flame bursting outwards in a comet. He spun, lines of smoke and fire spiraling through the air as he plummeted towards the surface, towards Ezrom.
Paladins formed teams, pushing against the invaders with opposing force. The streets erupted in legendary displays of thaumaturgic frost. The attack was fading.
Cyril would be proud.
The dark ice dragon Ezrom, snarled, vile black corrupted blood seeping from the cuts lining his wing bones and film. Slowly sinking the hollow male made to turn, gliding just above a resident garden that had been lucky enough to avoid the ruins of battle.
The roaring crackle and fuming of burning fire suddenly became audible to Poetry, drawing her gaze skywards. The young ice dragon gaped, wings fumbling as she quickly turned around.
There was a defeating howl, like a missile sent from the heavens striking down to the planet as Spyro's devastating comet strike ran Ezrom down, erasing the menace from the air.
There came the rumble of thunder, ash mingling with snow to collect on the cathedrals and watchtowers of the great Icelandic city.
A hush fell over Poetry's hearing, ears ringing so loud that only vibration and the feeling of winter winds on her cheek were distinguishable. The air smelled of sulfur, an acidic taste collecting in the young female's mouth as she made her way towards Shiverum's regal gardens.
Spyro rested, slumped to the ground in a heaping mass of exhausted breaths and collapsed wings.
Ezrom was only meters away.
White petal trees hung above all three dragons' heads, shrouding the garden's botanical beauty in a calm soft light.
Ezrom lay prone amidst a crater, a blemishing mark of destruction against the gardens crisp winter blue-green grass. His talons clutched at the dirt, rummaging through the soil to enjoy the feel of it beneath his claws one last time. Head looking skyward, tears drifting down from his eyes as his mouth opened in what seemed a desperate attempt to speak.
Somehow, Poetry found sympathy in the dragons passing, taking pity on the drake's dying strength.
"Imperia," Came the vain whisper. Head collapsing to the soft well kept grass. The lord of Shiverum lay lifeless in his own city. The great dragon passed through the veil for the final time.
The hollow chimes of a lullaby haunted the air.
Author's Note: Welp! It was really difficult writing this chapter. There were numerous roadblocks that I had to break through, none of them being easy. But… I have to say, it feels really good to be back. Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you did feel free to leave a review or send a PM! I always enjoy reading them and they definitely help me stay motivated. I already have the next chapter nearly complete and I'm expecting to have it up sometime near the end of this month or beginning of next! Until then everyone!
Off the topic of AOA, I've started a Destiny Story. If any of you guys are interested in a dystopian future with plenty of sci-fi grit, guns and all things revenge, feel free to take a look at Bitter Stars.