War and Poetry

Author's Note: Here it is guys and gals! I'm rather happy with this chapter. I very much appreciated all your lovely reviews from the last chapter. I've certainly put a great number of hours in my attempts to improve my skills in writing and making sure all of you have an interesting reading experience. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and please feel free to leave a review; I love to read them.

Flashback

Pinned to the floor against his will, Ezrom looked up in horror at his assailant, a vile shimmering green dragoness with thorns for spines and violet sinewy fans for horns. Four pupil-less crimson eyes glared down at him, fang-like teeth dripping foul smelling saliva that burned his scales.

"A new plaything! What fun!"

The icedrake struggled beneath the dragon's hold, dirt covered floor scraping his back. Head turning to the left and right, the drake searched for help. Eyes spotting a colleague, a gray-scaled earth dragoness, Ezrom made to yell only to have a stinger tail blade shoved into the crook of his neck.

"Can't have you calling for help now can we?"

Ezrom felt all energy drain from his body, muscles falling numb as the neurotoxin kicked in, rapidly onset deterioration already taking its toll; the drake's call for aid died in his throat. Meanwhile, the dragoness cackled, succulently licking at a drop of venom that threatened to drop from her stinger.

"Ezrom the silent truly falls silent!" The dragoness cackled maniacally.

Eyelids growing heavy, Ezrom grimaced, teeth biting into his tongue to keep him awake.

"Sleep little prey. Sleeeeeeep…"

Without warning, all pressure suddenly disappeared from Ezrom's torso and neck, a silver and white dragoness having replaced the green.

"Imp.. Im…" the words sputtered from the drake's mouth, tongue tripping over itself.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food, " The silver dragon taunted.

"And the maiden sweeps in to save her love." Once again the vile reptile laughed maddeningly.

Ezrom's chest tightened, insides slowly disintegrating. Body growing thinner and less healthy in complexion, the drake shuddered a cold breath.

A gnarled black taloned paw stepped over the ice drake, inches from the dragon's snout. The owner grinned down at the dying ice dragon, taking another step closer to the unsuspecting dragoness. Darkness slowly encroaching on Ezrom's vision, the dragon's heart rate came to a crawl. Gaze firmly locked on the outline of the white valiant dragoness, a tear trickled down the drake's cheek; helpless to watch the love of his life.

End flashback

"Eliesia! Who did I just kill?!" Spyro's frustrated shouts filled the small enclosed palace room.

A shattered window allowed for a cool breeze to drift in, making the purple drake unwantedly shiver. The room appeared to be an armory, albeit considerably empty. Shiverum's paladins must have emptied the barracks at the first sign of attack.

The dragoness in question shook herself, the radiating heat that surrounded her at all times faltering slightly. Expression blank, the dragoness stared at the purple drake for a moment.

"A friend…" Eliesia sat on her haunches.

Spyro's expression softened, previously irate tail calming down as it dropped to the cold floor. Meanwhile, Aquaria gestured to a guard that stood idly at the room entrance.

"Find my daughter. I request her presence in the dungeons."

With a feverish nod, the guard departed, paws shuffling against the ground followed by the sound of a door opening and closing.

"He constructed this city's magic barrier." Eliesia paused, eyes growing distance in remembrance.

"A gentle soul that often at times preferred the company of books rather than friends. All except one."

Head lowered in hopes of catching the scarlet dragon's gaze, Spyro stepped closer. An idea suddenly burst into Spyro's head.

"Books… This city has one of the greatest collections of history and knowledge in the continent. Could they still be here?"

Eliesia gave a less than reassuring response: pursed lips and silence.

"Perhaps. Although if it's information you want I have the means of a more direct approach. One that won't take hours of searching," Aquaria interrupted.

Attention thoroughly grasped, all eyes shifted back to the guardian, knowing smile gracing her lips.

"It's been a while since I've had the chance to use the dungeons."

Wind whipped across the ocean, cold sea breeze wafting through the air in plumes of mist. Poetry glided effortlessly through the air, the pearl white mane that extended down her spine to her tail whipped wildly.

A building crumbled below, reduced to ash and cold stone rubble. Slowly descending, Poetry hit the ground in a running halt, wings folding behind her.

"Is everything okay," The dragoness couldn't help but ask.

"No," sobbed the father of three hatchlings, each clinging to the deep blue drake's paws. "everything's gone. Our home, friends…"

"Mommy… Mommy's missing," Cried one of the hatchlings. "have you seen her? She went to fight but…"

Poetry's heart throbbed, shaking like a fragile vase. Paws pulling the young dragoness closer to the crippled family, Poetry steadied her voice.

"There's more than enough room at the great hall and Shiverum trading houses. Go there and tell the Paladin, Poetry sent you. As for your loved one, I'll look for her."

The drake broke into a fit of sniffs, grateful nervous laughter escaping his lips.

"Small dragoness, paladin, horns like shiver elk antlers and the most stubborn smile you'll ever see."

Poetry couldn't stop the smile that graced her lips, thinking about the family and how dinner on a Sunday night might have gone.

"What division was she?" Poetry may not be familiar with every soldier but the dragoness made it a habit to know much of the ranks.

"Grey-wing," was the drake's simple answer. "Arjenta," he added.

"Pardon?"

"Her name… I-it's Arjenta."

"Of course." Paw resting atop the dragons left shoulder, Poetry gave a bow. Gaze shifting to the young dragons at their patriarch's feet, Poetry gave a soothing hum.

"Take care of your father now," the dragoness teased.

"Ancients bless you, mistress."

Departing ways, Poetry went east, intent on reaching the city gates where most of Shiverum's military was dispatched during the attack. Altogether the city had three gates, great ice constructed bridges connecting the great city of frost to the mainland. Unsure which to check first the dragoness settled on the furthest north.

Muscles taught and wings unfurled the female dragon prepared to move skywards.

"Madame Poetry! M-Madame!"

The ice dragoness halted, head pivoting to scan her surroundings. Off to left staggered a rather scrawny looking drake clad in much too large paladin armor.

"Yes?"

"Lady Aquaria requests your presence in the dungeons."

"I'm too busy to pander to her whims," scoffed the young female.

"But madame Poetry-"

"Please don't call me madame. I have no rank above you. Besides…" The ice dragoness blushed. "It makes it sound like I'm old."

"Yes ma'am," saluted the soldier.

Poetry deadpanned.

"However, I must insist you attend. A prisoner from the attack was captured. It's being held there now."

Poetry halted mid launch once again, muscles stiff as they all but froze at the paladin's words.

"Alive?"

"Yes!"

Poetry nodded, wings folding back up once again.

"Can you do a favor for me then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Can you look for a paladin by the name of Arjenta of Grey-wing division."

Silence followed.

"I'm terribly sorry Miss poetry but… All of Grey-wing was lost during the attack."

Heart sinking, white-hot anger flashed through Poetry's nerves, talons kneading the slushy ground beneath her. Eyes burning, body numb, Poetry thought back to the hatchlings. The dragoness steadied herself, head tilting upward in attempt to drain the tears.

"That is all then," was all the dragoness let out before throwing herself into the sky, into the wind.

Wings trembling, Poetry physically shook herself, tossing the mind drowning thoughts aside. Instead, the female ice dragon focused on the breeze as it caressed her body, the delicate kiss of snowflakes numbing her burdened mind.

Thoughts renewed, Poetry surveyed her home, watching a group of younglings chase one another around a miraculously intact statue in one of the city squares.

Gaze shifting to the familiar walls and towers of Shiverum palace, Poetry circled the building in a slow descent. Falling behind the shadow of the great castle, the air turned brisk.

Paws firmly planted against the bitter frozen stone, Poetry stood in front of the wall, wings raised above her head in a display of their size. As if the structure recognized the dragoness, stones shifted to reveal a descending entryway staircase.

An uncharacteristically warm draft wafted up from the opening, scales almost changing shade in reaction to the sudden temperature. Stepping downwards, the stairwell opened up into a large, almost tomb-like structure, torches dangling from the ceiling by long silver chains.

Following the steps down, Poetry followed the echo of voices, instinct and memory driving her onwards and downwards.

As a youngling Poetry used to run through these large chambers, her childish screams and giggles echoing in the prisons vastness. Back then, the dungeon wasn't a dungeon, it's menacing air completely ignored by the ignorant bliss of a child. Now… the story was different. Although, the memories did bring a smile to the young dragon's face.

Eventually, Poetry found herself at the end of a hall, Spyro's calm collected voice muffled by a wooden chamber door. Was that who she had been hearing the whole time? A push of the door confirmed so.

Striding in, Poetry nodded to her mother before casting Spyro a friendly smile.

'Poor dragon… He must feel so out of place surrounded by all dragonesses,' Poetry joked silently.

"Ehahehaghahahhegah," cackled a hollow sea serpent, dead eyes rolling loosely in its head. Blood trickled from its mouth collecting in pools on the floor below its maw.

Poetry couldn't stop the snarl that formed across her muzzle, pearl white teeth glistening in the chamber torchlight. This only served to amuse the serpent more.

"So warm," It seemed to sing.

In a movement so fast, Poetry slammed into the bars separating the prisoner from the rest of the room; everyone watched, startled.

"You don't get to enjoy yourself," Poetry threatened, thinking back to the poor family she had met only moments earlier.

Tail lashing, Poetry lowered the temperature, torches slowly extinguishing. One by one the warmth around the room faded, the serpents expression growing increasingly grim.

"POETRY," came Aquaria's firm warning

"They attacked our city!"

"You think I don't know that?"

The serpent hissed.

"Fire! Heat!"

"We had those torches lit because it's the only thing that allowed us to speak with it. Otherwise…" The guardian gestured, tail directing the young dragon's attention to the prisoner.

The snake screeched, loose scales falling to the ground in heaps.

A soft touch to the shoulder startled the female dragon, attention switching the soothing touch of Spyros large paw. Poetry nodded, relenting.

Not missing a beat, Eliesia reignited the torches with the flutter of her eyelids, radiating fire washing across the pristine white stone.

"Tassssty! Sss, sweet! Delicioussssssss warmth!" It seemed to speak directly to Eliesia. "Share the flame! Share it!" The creature's voice suddenly turn turned dark, fangs on display in an unsavory smile.

Deciding to join, Aquaria stepped forward, head raised dominantly.

"Where is the next attack," demanded the ice guardian.

"Filthy, dissssssgusting dragon! You cannot know!"

"You are an army with no leader," stated Spyro.

"Liesssssss! He promised ussssss life! He promised usssss blood!"

Eliesia's breath hitched, the room dimming until it smelled of smoke and ash; all turned to her. Paw lifted off the ground, Eliesia clutched at her chest, flame flickering strenuously inside her breast.

Looking back to the cage, Spyro watched the serpent smile malevolently, blood staining the elegant floor a vile crimson.

"When the fire fades and all will be borne in blood."

However, light quickly flooded back into the chamber, blinding the serpent. Striding forward, Eliesia's tail melted through the metal beams. With a haunting sound, the dragoness thrust her tail blade through the space between the lesser reptile's eyes.

"We needed it alive," Aquaria seethed.

"She wasn't going to tell us anymore. They are all the same." The dragoness turned to Spyro, measuring the drake's expression. "Only an honest death will cure them now."

Without another word the dragoness removed herself from the room, blade slipping from the creature's corpse with another harrowing shlink.

"That thing was a she?" Poetry cast Spyro a scrutinizing look.

The purple drake laughed.

Back in the great hall, Spyro watched over Cynder's sleeping form, chest rising and falling with every breath. A fire rested just steps away, it's soft warm glow reflecting in Cynders black scales. The shivering had finally stopped, color slowly returning to the dragoness's wings and paws.

The drake's mind flipped between thoughts, part of him thinking of Cynder and another part reflecting on the ice drake he had slain. Taking another dragon's life was something Spyro tried to avoid, never finding it easy even under the most dire circumstances. The purple drake had never been one to actively play judge, jury and executioner.

'It was either him or the citizens of Shiverum,' he attempted to reassure himself.

'Only an honest death will cure them now,' echoed Eliesia's voice.

Suddenly, Spyro found his thoughts drifting to a darker time, the haunting laugh of Malefor echoing in his ears.

'That was different,' he told himself.

Was it really? Malefor was killed by his own ambition, ultimately being destroyed by the one thing he sought to unleash: convexity.

'Murderer… You enjoyed watching him die," Something whispered in the back of his mind. The violet dragon startled, head glancing around the room wildly only to find it cast in total darkness.

An impenetrable black fog blocked everything outside of a ten-meter radius. Heart racing, Spyro looked to Cynder only to find Ezrom's corpse lying before him in her stead.

'You killed him… Murderer.'

Head shaking the purple drake, closed his eyes, muzzle turned upwards in a grimace.

'Look what you did!'

Eyes forced open, the purple drake was greeted with Cynder's limp body only this time, the color having faded entirely. Fire gone, there was no gentle rise and fall of her chest.

"No!"

The fog suddenly disappeared, leaving the drake back in the great hall. Intrigued onlookers stared, worried expressions painted across their faces.

"Spyro?" The familiar voice came from behind, peeling the violet dragons gaze away from his friend.

Poetry watched, head tilted to the side while soft empathetic eyes examined him.

Before the dragoness could get another word out, Spyro stood up, muzzle drawn considerable close to her head.

"Watch her… Please. I need to think..." Without warning the purple hero set off, Claws tearing scratches in the floor with every step.

"O-Kay," droned the dragoness as she watched the drake leave, murmuring apologies as he bumped into dragons along the way. "Don't develop the habit of stranding me!"

Cynder had woken up just in time to see the tail end of the pairs exchange, eyelids opening and closing drunkenly. Mind hazy, Cynder lifted her head up, glancing around the room for several moments before resting again.

Looking back Poetry spotted Cynder shifting restlessly, fur blanket slowly beginning to slide off. Paws compelling the ice dragoness forward, Poetry closed the distance in two swift strides, readjusting the blanket.

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news but you need to stay put," soothed the young Shiverum dragon.

The advice fell on deaf ears however, Cynder's head swimming groggily. The black dragon bit back a snarl, her sudden movements disturbing her still exhausted limbs.

"Nobody ever listens to me,"

Maw opening and closing Cynder grimaced at the foul odor in her mouth, the sour taste of sea salt lingering. Actions not going unnoticed, Poetry stood up, hips shaking as she strode over to a food stand.

"Soup and water," the dragon ordered. "Please," She quickly added.

The snow leopard gave a gruff grumble in understanding, scared, wiry paw lifting a ladle from a boiling cauldron. Despite not being hungry, Poetry couldn't help but feel her mouth water at the broth's delicious smell, eyes tracing the soupy contents as it poured into the tiny wooden bowl.

Frost beets bobbed tauntingly as cold root leaves swam loose circles around them. Meanwhile, the mind melting-taste of Grey-wing meat steeped the bowl with rich protein. Mind suddenly catching up; Poetry lost her appetite.

Tail wrapping around both the dish and finely crafted glass of water, the dragoness carried herself back to Cynder.

"Alright!" Chirped the excitable Shiverum dragon. "Who said frostbite meant you couldn't have delicious food?"

Paw helping Cynder lift her head, Poetry guided the dragoness's lips to the refreshing glass of water, draining its contents. Cynder shook her head, thoughts slowly clearing up as the drowsiness began to wear off. Next came the soup, it's warm inviting smell pulling Cynder closer until the contents all but spilled down her throat.

"Hey, you're spilling," Squeaked the ice dragoness. Poetry would be surprised if any amount of the broth made it into her stomach at all.

Mouth dripping, Cynder gasped, bowl clattering onto the floor.

"More…"

Eyes rolling, Poetry made her way back to the stand run by the less than savory feline.

"Another bowl of soup, please."

"Got outta line. Only one bowl per citizen, Mistress Aquaria's orders."

"But it's not for me, it's for-"

"I said no! Now stop wasting my time. Other people gotta eat too." The leopard obviously didn't recognize who he was talking to.

Temper swelling, Poetry bit her tongue, thinking back to her mother's words when she was a child.

'The good, the right, the true-these are the actions appropriate for daylight hours.'

Nerves relaxing, Poetry gave a curt bow in response before walking away. Mouth pursed, the guardian in training, pondered what else she could get Cynder. Back at the encampment ,however, the exhausted ebony hero was missing.

"Uh…" Head spinning, Poetry stood on her hind legs so as to look down from above the crowd.

Eyes squinting the dragoness scouted the main vessels of travel. Regarding the shape and color of each dragon that migrated through the large vein that winded through the ocean of refugees, Poetry spotted her target. Turquoise pearl white mane, shaking as the dragoness ran, Poetry quickly caught up the paw fumbling dragon.

"You're not gonna get very far with numb legs," teased the daughter of Aquaria.

"Watch me."

"I'd give you about another hour or so before you lost your legs entirely..." Just having spoken the words, the black female collapsed to the ground, talons shaking uncontrollably.

"Another two before you started hyperventilating and an additional hour before they froze off."

"Okay, I g-get it." Cynders teeth chattered.

Thoroughly having amused herself, Poetry propped her companion up from under her wing, chaperoning the frostbitten reptile back to warmth.

"Where were you planning to go, Stubby?"

Cynder raised an eyebrow, body shuddering beneath the warm protection of winter elk fur.

"Stubby?"

"Yeah. You know because you walk like- Nevermind. They can't all be winners."

Cynder couldn't help but take a liking to the dragoness across from her, admiring her ability to keep alight in bleak scenarios. Cynder regarded her quietly, admiring the well-kempt demeanor. Already Cynder could see the resemblance with her mother; raised to be regal.

"Something interesting on my face?" Poetry kept the same snarky tone.

...More or less.

"Where did Spyro go?"

The Shiverum daughter pondered the question a moment, eyes flicking around sporadically as if searching for an answer.

"There's no telling with him. Seemed spooked though. A lot happened since you passed out."

Both dragonesses paused, Cynder taking the time to admire the warmth of her nearby fire as it washed over her muzzle. Glancing around the room revealed more encampments, orange glow washing over the ocean of scales. Looking up, a chandelier dangled from the distant ceiling, part of it collapsed in on itself as it teetered precariously. Torn banners lined the walls and pillars, what could only be the cities insignia embroidered with fine silver and white thread: icicles arranged in the shape of wings cresting below a moon. Eyes shifting to a large pile of wooden furniture, table legs, chairs and bookshelves towered above the heads of all. A burn pile, Cynder safely assumed.

"How do you know Spyro?" Cynder asked the question so suddenly, even she hardly had time to think about why she asked it. Although, deep down she desperately wanted the answer.

Poetry gave a thoughtful smile, crescent-shaped tail blade tracing the brim of a wooden bowl.

"It was pretty lucky really. I bumped into him in the small town of Froleg, a farming town just a few hundred miles east of here." Poetry's expression suddenly turned sour. "Awful town," she couldn't help but add.

Cynder gave a nod, letting the dragoness know she was following along, even if she wasn't entirely aware of the town. Cynder didn't feel the need to plague the conversation with her ignorances.

"It was the year my mother was initiated into guardianship. I was in my exploratory phase; so was Spyro apparently, helping me out of a bind I was wrapped up in."

For a moment Cynder thought back to her discussion with the purple drake in the gardens of Warfang.

'Ignitus.' Cynder could only wonder.

Focusing back on the young dragon's word's, Cynder couldn't help but tilt her head. What heroic deed had Spyro done this time?

The ice dragoness suddenly laughed, talon scratching the underside of her jaw. Eye quirked, Cynder shifted her paws, laying one across the other.

"I was involved with something a little over my head. Runaway prisoner extradition, boring politics; I won't get into it. Point being… Spyro helped me out of it."

"Afterwards, we sort of migrated from city to city looking for information of the Chronicler's lost island. I was mostly along for the ride as he searched... and searched… and searched." Poetry failed to suppress an exasperated laugh.

A pang of empathy struck in Cynder's heart, Imagining what it was like to look for something for so long. Although, the fact that he wasn't alone during those years offered some reassurance if only a little. Cynder wondered: thinking back… Why hadn't Spyro told her that he had a companion in the first place? Did he trust her? Or did he just think neither her and Poetry would ever meet?

"I stuck by him though, at least for a while; I'm glad I did too. Besides, I owed him."

Cynder couldn't stop the growing smile that spread across her maw. Log of wood shifting, sparks fluttered through the air, pulling the ebony dragon's attention.

"Was there ever anything between you and…"

Poetry sorted, paw continuing to fiddle with the bowl.

"No. Maybe, given the opportunity but... certainly not now with…"

"With what?"

"All of this going on, with you being back." Poetry gestured wildly with her wings around the room then to Cynder. "Besides, I've turned a little too political for my own taste. I'm sure Spyro feels the same; even if he's too nice to say it."

Cynder held newfound respect for Poetry, understanding and a small amount of guilt filing itself into her thoughts. It was an interesting thing to imagine that this dragon had shared their own adventure with Spyro while Cynder was gone… Running from her past.

"I'm glad I met you, that Spyro met you," Cynder couldn't help but compliment.

Head bobbing limply, Poetry admired the large eternal moon that hung in the sky just beyond a stain-glass window.

"Me too."

Both dragoness's sat in silence, perfectly content in letting the remnants of their conversation fade with the roar of external activity surrounding them.

Ears straining, Poetry couldn't help but hum a tune, haunting lullaby still lingering in the atmosphere, although louder than what it had been before.

Author's Note: There it is! I sincerely hope you all enjoyed! There were a lot of things I had to think up and rewrite and edit but I was eventually led here. I have a question to propose to any of you willing to answer; I have numerous unpublished short stories and was wondering if any of you would wish to see them. Either way. Leave your answer in a review or PM. As always, thank you for taking the time to read my story. I've recently gone back to look over my past writings and feel the immense desire to go back and correct all my mistakes. Additionally, it also gave me a great sense of pride for all of you that have stuck with me through this journey so far. Either way, I'll be seeing you all in the next chapter.