Cynder shone, her scales shone with cleanliness, her eyes shone with excitement. Cynder was a picture of pure happiness as she walked towards the setting sun with a spring in her step, on her way to meet Spyro for their date.

Cynder looked stunning and sexy and she knew it. With her slender figure and sinuous curves she stood out among females of any age or species. The natural dancer's grace of her walk was a result of Cynder's years of fighting and razor sharp alertness. The pale moon like markings on her jet black body shimmered softly, she glowed with health. Her breath smelt pleasantly like mint as she had chewed on some leaves before she'd left, the rest of her body smelt like Imperia's lavender scented soap. Everything about Cynder spoke of confidence, competence and contentment.

Cynder's attractive looks turned heads as she walked down the streets of Warfang, but she didn't even notice. She was completely lost in her own world.

On the inside she was terrified.

Put more accurately she was half terrified, petrifying nervousness fought for control of Cynder's mind against an outrageous combination of optimism and euphoria. Cynder had no basis for comparison on how she was feeling, but she had been informed that dates usually felt like this, which was some relief.

Spyro was waiting for her with a shy smile on his face in front of the Blacksmiths shop where he said he would be. Cynder smiled at him as she approached, she expected him to lead her somewhere, but he just sat and gazed at her, so she sat down next to him.

Spyro had removed his bandage, and there was no blemish on his purple scales or golden belly to indicate that he had ever been in combat.

"Hi." Cynder said. Spyro looked away in embarrassment.

"Hi." He replied. There was a moment of silence; Cynder wondered if Spyro had completely forgotten what he had planned for the night.

"Are we going to go somewhere?" She asked eventually.

"Oh! Yes. Somewhere." Spyro said quickly. He got up; Cynder admired the predatory grace that the purple dragon moved with, even his hurried movements didn't truly seem hurried but rather were perfectly timed and carefully choreographed. Cynder rose as well and the two dragons began to walk together slowly, Spyro was just ahead, leading the way. His tail twitched towards hers, she noticed and immediately entwined her tail with his. Neither dragon made a comment, but they both smiled to themselves.

It didn't take Cynder very long to realize they were being followed. A dragon was on the street behind them, hidden somewhere amongst the evening crowds. Cynder didn't need three guesses; she knew exactly who it would be.

"We're being followed." She said to Spyro. He nodded.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's Ember, a dragoness who fancies me, she sometimes hides and watches me study or eat but she's never been this determined before. I tried to shake her off but she's still kept following me."

"I think that's my fault. I mentioned our date to her; she got really mad about it." Cynder mentally kicked herself for her pride; Ember could ruin their date if not dealt with.

"Can we lose her?" Spyro asked.

"Maybe, but she won't give up easily."

"This isn't exactly going as I planned." Spyro admitted.

"That's because it's always my plans that work." Cynder smiled.

"Oh really?" Spyro said, forgetting about Ember.

"Yes, flooding the gorge to catch the destroyer, that was my plan…" Cynder trailed off, realising that she had no other good examples.

"One mostly successful plan, that's a pretty exhaustive list." Spyro said.

"Let's face it, neither of us are very good planners."

"We've always got the job done though." Spyro said

The two dragons walked along the street, lost in their shared memories. A disturbance behind them made them turn around just in time to see Ember chasing a small red dragon away down the street. The red dragon was cackling with manic laughter.

"I think that red dragon was Ember's cousin. I can't remember his name." Spyro said.

"Spark. I met him earlier and his name is Spark." Cynder said, she had recognised his laugh. Spyro looked at her.

"Did you have something to do with this?"

"Not at all." Cynder said innocently. Spyro gave her a look of disbelief.

"Hey! I had nothing to do with anything!" Cynder protested.

"So you say." Spyro said. Then he glanced at the sky. "Come on, there was something I wanted to show you, we'll need to fly now."

Cynder nodded and the two dragons took to the cool evening air. Spyro was mesmerised by Cynder's flight, the wind dragon seemed to have no need to flap her wings, she moved through the air as if it were water, holding her body up in weightlessness. Cynder turned a little circle in the air as she rose smoothly to a flying altitude; Spyro's heart turned a little circle in his chest. After a moment he recalled that the beautiful black dragoness was waiting for him to lead, and he glided down over the city towards one of the watchtowers. He landed on the watchtower roof and Cynder landed gently beside him.

"I love coming here, for sunrise or sunset, or to watch the moon. Nobody else ever bothers me here." Spyro smiled. "Not even Ember."

The two dragons looked out at the sunset. Cynder had watched many sunsets herself, from the peaks of mountains, the tops of trees or over the sea, but she had never imagined Spyro had been doing the same, far away back in Warfang.

This particular sunset was mostly over, but its ending was spectacular. The storm of the night before had blown far away to the east, leaving behind only torn strips of cloud. The sun itself had faded, but its final crimson light still reflected from those tongues of cloud, which turned the horizon into a tribute of dragon fire. Cynder watched the day end with a slight smile; it had been a long day.

The two dragons sat in comfortable silence as they waited patiently for the last of the light to face from the sky. A cool wind blew across the rooftops and Cynder shivered slightly. She edged closer to Spyro and the purple dragon took her under his wing. His scales were warm and his body was firm, Cynder allowed herself to relax against him.

Aside from fire and ice dragons no other types of dragon tolerated the cold very well, and fire dragons didn't enjoy cold any more than dragons of other elements, Dragons as a species lived in temperate or warm areas, leaving colder places to the civilizations of other species, like the wolves. A dragon's large wings cooled their body temperature rapidly if unfolded. Dragons may have been warm blooded creatures but a dragon, of Cynder's slender proportions in particular, didn't have the body mass to surface area ratio for a self-regulating temperature.

This wasn't relevant to anything in particular, but it was what Cynder was thinking about as she nestled herself under Spyro's wing. She was also thinking about how much she enjoyed being in contact with Spyro, which was very much indeed.

The sky grew dark, and the wind grew colder, Cynder absentmindedly deflected it around the tower. Neither of the two dragons particularly wanted to leave the rooftop, but eventually hunger and the prospect of a more comfortable place to sit lured them back into the streets.

Spyro tucked his wing around Cynder, even though the ground level streets were sheltered from the wind and were still pleasantly warm. They drew stares as the pair walked.

"We're being stared at." Spyro correctly observed.

"The hottest date in Warfang." Cynder said thoughtfully.

"Did someone else call you that?" Spyro asked, a hint of possessiveness in his tone, Cynder shook her head and nudged Spyro's side.

"It has nothing to do with me; it's about our date apparently being the most interesting thing happening in Warfang tonight."

"We aren't really that famous, are we?"

Spyro took Cynder to a brightly lit shop and led her in, and then he stopped dead in the doorway.

"This isn't right."

"It's a bookshop."

"It's meant to be a restaurant." Spyro said.

"You can try coming back later, if you think it'll help." A lazy voice drawled at them. An earth dragon of about Spyro and Cynder's age hopped around the corner, he held four books, three balanced neatly in his right paw, one held open under his nose in his left. He was reading from that book, and he wore an enormous pair of multi-lensed glasses, like a moles glasses that had been scaled up several times.

"Seizo, what's going on? This is a restaurant."

The dragon looked up from his book and hopped his way behind the desk, putting his books down. He casually switched from green glasses lenses to red ones, and then he smiled.

"Hey Spyro, long time no see. I know that you don't get out much, but this is pretty clearly a bookshop. We moved from our old place to a nicer neighbourhood after the old restaurant closed down, it's much roomier here."

Spyro turned to Cynder.

"I'm so sorry about this, I was certain there was a restaurant here, I can't believe this."

"It's okay, Spyro." Cynder giggled, she couldn't help it. The look on Spyro's face was priceless.

"Volteer said the restaurant was still here, said that I could take you here for a date." Spyro said. "I believed him!"

"Volteer's dates are always disasters. He's famous for that." The earth dragon, whose name had to be Seizo, grinned. "So Spyro are you going to introduce me to your beautiful date?"

"Paws off." Spyro said immediately. Cynder tried and failed to stop giggling.

"Relax Spyro, I have a girlfriend already." Seizo said.

"Not Miasma?" Spyro's interest was perked; Cynder saw there was some history between these two.

"Yes, it's Miasma. I gave her a note written in code; she solved it over lunch and agreed to go out with me on the spot."

"You are a weird dragon, you know that?"

"Course, so are you going to do introductions?"

"Sure." Spyro turned to Cynder. "This eccentric earth dragon is Seizo, one of my best friends. He's apprenticed to become the next Earth Guardian and we met when we were training together under Terrador. He's nice enough, but don't get him started on self-help books or you'll never hear the end of it."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Cynder said, the bespectacled earth dragon bowed to her.

"The pleasure is all mine." Seizo said.

"Not all of it." Cynder smiled. Spyro coughed meaningfully.

"And my date is Cynder, who needs little introduction."

"You've talked my ears off about Cynder." Seizo said to Spyro, he looked at Cynder. "I've heard a lot about you, all good things of course."

"Of course." Cynder said.

"So you two are finally out on a date? Well done Spyro, you've stuffed it up now."

"Not yet he hasn't." Cynder said.

"Wow, you're pretty forgiving. "A" for effort and all that. Perhaps I can help you guys; we've got cookbooks, romance stories, even dating advice books." Seizo hopped up on the table and grabbed a book off a shelf.

"Where to Put It: A young dragon's complete guide to-"

"I don't think so." Spyro said loudly.

"-or for pleasure" The green dragon finished reading and shrugged. "It's had really positive reviews too."

"We're going now." Spyro turned towards the door.

"Wait! Don't go yet! I was kidding, I want to help you. Gimme just a second."

The green dragon turned and yelled into the depths of the bookshop.

"BOOKWORM! BOOKWORM COME HERE!"

A mole emerged from somewhere behind a bookshelf and looked over the situation.

"What are you yelling about Seizo? Oh, hello Spyro, and Cynder, what's going on?"

"Spyro and Cynder are on a date." Seizo said. "They thought we were still a restaurant. Are there any good restaurants around here?"

"Sometimes a big outdoor sign reading "bookshop" just doesn't quite say it." The mole told the dragons. "I've been to most of the restaurants in Warfang and I can't recommend most of them, the good ones are always booked out too." The mole pondered for a moment. "You're welcome to eat with us." He said.

Spyro and Cynder glanced at each other, silently agreeing that eating dinner with a random family of moles was not a romantic prospect.

"We wouldn't want to impose." Spyro said, halfway towards leaving the shop.

The mole read their expressions surprisingly well, or maybe he just guessed what the dragon couple was thinking.

"You wouldn't fit at our table, Glasses here is about all of the dragon we can cram into the dining room."

"They aren't glasses!" Seizo insisted. The mole gave him a look which clearly said that they most definitly were glasses, and finished explaing to Spyro and Cynder.

"What I was thinking was that the two of you might like to go up to the rooftop garden. It's quiet, private and nice up there, just have a look at it, stairs at the back, third floor, first door on the left."

Spyro looked at Cynder, who shrugged and smiled, and the two dragons allowed themselves to be led into the back of the bookshop and up to the roof. Cynder assumed the mole might be called Bookworm but she really wasn't sure about that, she didn't know the first thing about mole named. Whatever his name was, the mole left the dragon couple at the door after telling them that dinner would be about fifteen minutes away, if they wanted to stay.

"It's beautiful up here." Cynder said with delight and some surprise.

The garden was a peaceful space which looked out over a pleasant stone courtyard. On three sides it was walled by high stone buildings, but on the fourth it simply opened into the sky. A lattice roof woven with carefully tamed ivy covered about half of the area. The architecture was simple and structured and very distinctive to Warfang. Cobbled paths divided the garden beds and patches of green lawn into a tasteful geometric pattern.

"This is sort of familiar." Cynder said thoughtfully. "Have we been here before?" She walked to the edge and looked over the square. Spyro joined her, and then he hummed in surprise and acknowledgement.

"We have been here, during the Dark Master's attack on Warfang. That building that nearly burnt down, that we saved the moles from, it's just over there!"

Cynder looked at the building in question, and then she nodded.

"It is isn't it? Isn't it strange? I had never imagined coming back here, certainly not like this."

The two dragons sat at the edge, Cynder glanced at Spyro and saw that he was looking at the stars; his eyes were focused on the dragon constellation that hung there.

"We know that it appeared in the sky after the defeat of Malefor, but we don't know anything else about it really. What sort of force could move the stars themselves?" Spyro wondered.

"I know that the wolves fear it, and hide when it rises into the sky. I know that a line to the horizon directly from its tail tip star is a line two degrees west of true north. I know that whenever I look at it I think of you, Spyro. I wouldn't say we know nothing about it."

Spyro looked at her, and edged closer. Cynder allowed him to gently rested his head on her shoulder.

"What do you think about it?" He asked. Cynder looked up again.

"A part of me wonders if it's Malefor. It makes me wonder if his spirit is free of the darkness now, if he's at peace."

"I don't think its Malefor." Spyro said.

"Ignitus." Cynder whispered.

"I miss him." Spyro said sadly. "He was the first dragon I ever met."

Cynder comforted the purple dragon as best she could.

"You're still here then? We didn't scare you guys off. That's good, I brought you dinner." Spyro and Cynder looked around to see Seizo bearing a huge cart wheel sized plate of steaming… something, Cynder didn't have the faintest idea what it was, worms maybe?

"What is that stuff?" Cynder asked. "It looks weird, but it sure smells nice."

"Moles eat it a lot. It's called spaghetti. It's really nice, but you may find it hard to eat, moles have little silver swords and tridents to eat it with but we dragons can't use those. I'll leave you guys to figure it out."

Seizo grinned at them as he departed, leaving Cynder and Spyro with their food.

The two dragons might not have eaten it if they had known that their dinner had come at the expense of the entire family of moles in the building below them. The moles didn't mind however, they were already cooking more food for themselves. One mole jumped up on the table and started doing a dance that he proudly declared he had done while Spyro and Cynder had helped him repair his catapult during the battle for Warfang.

While the moles cooked and ate their new dinner below Spyro and Cynder puzzled over their own dinner up above. Picking up the spaghetti was nearly impossible so the two dragons ate it off the plate. Cynder snapped small bites, cutting the trailing ends of the spaghetti off. Spyro, the hero of dignity, found a more efficient approach; he simply took a huge bite and inhaled everything he had gotten hold of. Cynder noticed Spyro's eating pattern, so the purple dragon stopped eating so badly. Cynder looked at him with amusement and started using the same technique. Spyro smiled and the two dragons ate their strange dinner and licked the plate clean.

The two dragons sat back at the edge of the garden, looking down into the streets. A few moles and dragons passed by, but none looked up. Cynder began to hum quietly, Spyro vaguely recognised the song. He sat in silence for a while, and then he turned to Cynder and sighed.

"I'm sorry I haven't been romantic enough." Spyro said. Cynder stopped humming in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"We've been stalked down the street because I can't tell a dragon "no" and we've had to be fed by a family of moles because I misplaced a restaurant."

"It sounds bad when you put it that way."

"It was bad." Spyro insisted.

As one of two dragons and therefore half of the date, Cynder knew that she was an active participant in the night, up until now she had allowed herself to be swept along by Spyro. He had done an amazing job all things considered, Cynder wasn't going to allow him to fail now, and she'd been expecting this.

There was no way that tonight was going to end in disappointment for them, Cynder would not allow it.

It was just as scary as she'd expected. Three little words, so easy to say.

How could she say them? What if he didn't… something?

Cynder didn't know, couldn't know, but she realised that this time she just had to take a leap of faith.

She just had to hope that Spyro would be there to catch her.

"It wasn't bad Spyro. You've done perfectly, I can't imagine you failing. All you had to do was be here for me. You've done more than that, you've amazed me Spyro."

She was so close to her precious words, so, so close. How could others find it so easy to say them?

"You couldn't have done wrong Spyro, your heart is in the right place and my heart belongs to you. I love you Spyro, I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. I love you."

"Cynder…" Spyro looked at her, unsure.

Oh no he wasn't going to say it. Cynder's heart stopped, he wasn't going to-

"I love you too, Cynder."

Cynder made a small whimpering sound, and then she flung herself at the purple dragon and held him as if she would never let him go.

Spyro caught the dragoness and folded her into his embrace and kissed Cynder forehead gently.

"Does the date seem better if we put it this way?" Cynder asked her beloved hero.

Spyro didn't answer with words. He simply drew her head up to his and looked into Cynder's green eyes and then Spyro gave Cynder the deepest, kindest, most passionate, most loving, kiss that she had ever experienced.

Spyro pulled Cynder closer and supported her body as she surrendered to the kiss, she was kissing Spyro in return, first gently, and then with such joyful enthusiasm that she surprised even herself. Kissing Spyro was a dizzying high. Emerging bloody and triumphant from a desperate fight, breathing deeply to unleash a blazing fury of magic, this one, single, world breaking kiss meant more to Cynder then everything she had ever done, it was her moment.

Their moment.

Far away another dragon turned away from the dark horizon. The storm had rolled in with vengeance; it must have come from Warfang in the west. Thoran only knew that because the rain wasn't snow, but the miserable mountains above Darkmire's tomb were caught in the frigid grasp of winter. Any storm from another direction would have brought hail and misery with it, but this one was melting the ice into slurry.

Exposure to the elements out there could potentially kill a lightning dragon, but Thoran wished with all his heart that the crevice slit in the fortresses wall was large enough to fit a dragon. He would prefer to crawl out of it and return to the skies where he belonged, but there was only one exit from Darkmire's tomb.

There were no more guards, they were all gone, Thoran hadn't killed them all and there were no corpses. They had simply gone. He hadn't escaped in time.

He could sense the trap waiting for him but it didn't slow his step. Thoran kicked open the final doors to the main antechamber of the fortress. Malefor turned and considered him.

"My guest, I'm glad you've arrived. Make yourself comfortable, please."

Thoran looked for the first time at the ancient purple dragon. Spyro and Cynder had been the only two dragons ever to see him and live, but neither one would have immediately recognised the same dragon three years later.

The Malefor that Spyro and Cynder had together defeated at the world's ending was gone. The Malefor that Thoran met in the fortress was several shades lighter, only slightly darker than Spyro himself was. Once the Dark Master had looked possessed, demonic, a bestial force. This Malefor was of indeterminate age, ageless; he seemed both younger and older than Thoran was. His eyes were no longer yellow and snakelike, but whirling, evolving ever changing violet storms. The purple dragon looked alive.

The former lightning guardian had been expecting fire, brimstone and death. He had been expecting something scary. Malefor was scary, but not in the same sense. Malefor had an aura of pure power, Thoran could feel it, and he knew he was in the presence of a dragon with abilities akin to those of a god. According to legend Malefor was one of the spirits of the Ancestors, who all dragons worshiped. Standing in the presence of the purple dragon Thoran could almost believe it.

Malefor waited a moment for the lightning dragon to respond, but when he didn't the purple dragon turned back to the scroll he had unrolled and carefully dipped his claw in ink to write on it. Thoran came closer warily; positioning himself on the other dragon's left hindquarter, where he would have the advantage against a surprise melee attack. Malefor didn't seem to care; the thought of fighting against the lightning dragon had barely even crossed his mind.

The purple dragon spoke again, in a rich, deep voice. It was pleasant, but raw from lack of use, not unlike Thoran's own voice.

"The Sigils, powerful anti-magic, but useless it would seem. What do they stop? Using dark crystals to absorb all mana would appear to be more effective. A fascinating prison they have chosen for us, wouldn't you agree?"

Thoran didn't agree, he found fascination in death and there was only one dragon here left to kill.

How to kill a god? An interesting new question for the psychopathic guardian dragon.

Thoran knew little of Malefor's powers, but he did know that the dragon had sworn to destroy the world, and Thoran couldn't allow that. The purple dragon appeared physically weaker then Thoran, not weak by any means, but merely average in melee combat by dragon terms, the lightning dragon decided. The threat would be his magic attacks, Ice, Fire, Lightning, Earth and any other eldritch powers that the purple dragon could bring to bear against him. A devastating melee attack then, cut the spine with claws; impale the heart with the tail blade, fry the brain with a Thunderlance, not even the legendary Malefor could walk away from that.

Perhaps.

Thoran moved like his beloved lightning, his attack was flawless; Malefor hadn't even put up any defences, his distraction was a fatal mistake.

Thoran's paws hit, his long claws bit, a deep slash drew crimson blood, the slash turned into a gash and Thoran sensed the electrical impulses in Malefor's spine cut out. Thoran's tail blade smashed into and through the purple dragon's belly, just between his ribs, right where Thoran meant it to go. Malefor screamed and Thoran howled with delight.

The electrical impulses Thoran had sensed were the target of the Thunderlance; lightning exploded from Thoran's body and incinerated Malefor's nerves on its way to his skull. There was no kill like overkill.

There was a flash of purple and the dragon vanished. Thoran looked around in surprise, all that was left was blood on his claws and a faint howl of pain.

"You tried to kill me." Malefor said from behind him. Thoran swung his tail blade, but the dragon was on the other side of the room. Thoran realised he had used some wind trickery to speak directly into his ear. Violet energy flickered around Malefor's injuries, and they healed themselves as Thoran watched.

"It was a respectable effort. Misplaced I feel, why did you do that?" Malefor didn't exactly sound angry, or concerned, but he seemed displeased.

"You want to destroy the world. I can't let you do that." Thoran grated at him. He expected to die now, but found that he didn't particularly care. He created a devastating lightning bolt on his tail and hurled it at the purple dragon. A veil of earth cloaked Malefor and diverted the lightning. Thoran tried to call on lightning to launch an attack that would prove more difficult to counter, but the mana he needed wasn't there, Malefor had done something to his magic.

"It's pointless; I can use my earth element to counter everything you can possibly throw at me. I was right however, your aggression is misplaced. I never wanted to destroy the world, I've simply spent most of my life fighting a little duel with destiny. I'd explain it all to you, but I don't think you would understand. Now: I allowed you to visit me for a reason; I have a deal for you, would you like to hear it?"

"No, I'd like my magic back so I can kill you. You bleed like any other dragon, despite your powers." Thoran inspected the blood on his claws, a single purple scale had been torn from Malefor's neck, and Thoran put it in his jaws and crunched it. Then he spat it out at the other dragon.

Malefor looked slightly angry now.

"Perhaps you'd like to fight me? By all means, attack me, try to kill me." Malefor invited. He rose to his full height and waited.

Thoran felt his power surge back to him, immediately he charged forwards to hit the purple dragon with a Thunderlance. There was a flash of purple and in a single moment Thoran was lying on the ground, a blazing pain in his muzzle and Malefor's clawed foot standing on his head, razors inches from his eyes.

In a single moment, Thoran thought. He moves faster than Time itself. So this was the power of Dragon Time, the power that made Malefor unbeatable, how do you kill a dragon that can't be taken by surprise?

"I win, now we can talk like civilized dragons." Malefor growled. He allowed the lightning dragon to stand again. "There's something you want, a weapon. I have an informant who has located it for you. I expect that you would like to retrieve it. Doing so will be simple, two young dragons are coming here; One purple and one black. Their names are Spyro and Cynder and they will be taking the northern road past Dante's Freezer. Wait here for a day, one day should be enough. Take the same road west, you will tell them that I have gone to The Catacombs under the waterfall cave; they will know where I mean. Ask them about your weapon, they will tell you where it is."

"Why would I help you, O Dark Master?" Thoran said sarcastically. Malefor crossed the room with dragon time; Thoran never saw the blow coming. His head snapped back under the impact, but he had been hit harder than this before, it was the knowledge of how truly hopeless his position was that was the threat behind the attack. The Electricity Guardian was out of his depth, Malefor was just proving it.

"My name is Malefor. You will call me nothing else; nobody will know me by that name ever again." Pure fury blazed through the purple dragon. After a moment however, he calmed down and turned away from Thoran. "You have only a small role in my plan, but I allow you to go about your way unhindered. Show some consideration, be respectful, and just do as I have asked you."

Thoran nodded warily. It was true that the purple dragon had been obliging enough, even affable. With some reservations he decided to trust the purple dragon.

"And are you going to the waterfall cave?"

"No." Was the simple reply, then the purple dragon paused and with a slight sign of humor in his voice, the first sign of genuine dragon nature Thoran had seen from him, Malefor added "But don't tell them that."

Malefor floated into the air, moving as if he weighed nothing at all. The doors opened at his will and he accelerated into the sky with the rain parting around him. In truth he was going to The Catacombs, albeit briefly, he had to set up a surprise present for the two dragons that would come looking for him there, just a little test of their skills.

Malefor smiled as he flew; this was his moment.

This chapter was a study in contrasts. At times it was made by pure inspiration but at other times it was a veritable nightmare. I'm proudest of this chapter so far, but I also was the most concerned (even scared) about posting it.

"I love you" seems so easy to say. I can sit back and say it now all I want without any problems (except people looking at me weirdly(Yes, I love you too, now go away)), but Cynder had to suffer a great deal to say it and I was suffering right beside her. I have never felt more for Cynder then in this chapter.

I had meant for this to be shorter, but there was no possible way that I was going to cut the date, so word limits remain as guidelines, not actual rules. I've also decided to change this story's genre from Adventure to Romance.

I'll be on holiday next week, this could mean LOTS of writing time or none at all, depending on factors I can't control. I'm trying to post one chapter each week, but no guarantees for next week I'm afraid.

"The most difficult conflicts are those within us"

-4Dragons