Writing has been slow, and I wish that the next chapters would come sooner and be better. But it's just not going to be that way, life has been taking away my writing time. Still I'll update this story with the best chapters I can write, as often as I can.

Don't worry, though, this story is still going strong and it shall continue to be awesome.

This chapter has a happier sounding name, that should make a nice change of pace from the previous ones. I do love writing cheerful stories.
The song for this chapter is Safe and Sound, originally from The Hunger Games and sung by Taylor Swift. GoldenGriffiness used the same song in one of her stories, so credit to her! I didn't copy what she wrote, although she's a great author and totally worth reading. (plus she's very artistic)

I hope you all remember where we were up to...

Ember was sitting in the middle of her new cell with a deep scowl on her face. She's only just discovered how much she hated being tricked. She felt she was beginning to understand something of how Cynder must have been feeling since Malefor had recaptured her. Hopefully Cynder had gotten payback, though. Saved Spyro, that was. Ember found herself feeling neutral about Malefor, he was too scary to like but too kind to hate.

The room was smaller than the other one, and bare of all furniture and comfort, but aside from being boring there was nothing really wrong with it.

Angry and ashamed for being fooled Ember just had to sit and wait to find out who would come and get her.

It wasn't long that she was waiting, half an hour at the most, but it still irked her to be cut off from whatever action and excitement was going on outside. She'd wanted to be there to see Spyro and Cynder reunited, it would be romantic and hopefully they would be on their way back to her now.

As the minutes dragged on Ember became worried, she was glad when the door was finally unlocked and opened. She hesitated to see who would come in, and sighed in relief when she saw that it was Cynder.

She stepped forwards, but her smile died on her lips as she saw instantly that something had gone terribly, terribly, wrong.

Cynder was alone, covered in blood, and she looked utterly awful. Ember had never thought Cynder could look so small and sad. Smallness and sadness were not Cynder traits, Cynder was strong and beautiful and brave, the black dragoness who walked into the room resembled Cynder in beauty only.

"Oh no…" Ember felt her heart constrict in terror, Cynder was alone and there was so much blood. "Is that… Spyro's?"

"He did it." Cynder said, shaking her head.

Ember hesitated. "He? Who? Did what?"

"He killed her. He just… killed her."

Ember didn't need to hear any more. She ran forwards and wrapped Cynder in a hug. She felt a soft glow of relief that it was a 'her' who had died. That meant that Spyro was ok, right? But the moment passed instantly. One glance at Cynder's face told Ember that things were a long way from being ok, with Spyro or otherwise. Someone had been killed, and Cynder was obviously heartbroken.

Cynder folded into Ember's hug, she was about to cry. She had to tell Ember what had happened quickly, while she still had the strength.

"Spyro killed Imperia!"

Having told Ember what had happened Cynder buried her face against the other dragoness' side and began to weep.

Ember was horrified and confused. Spyro would never kill Imperia. The purple dragon and the silver dragoness were close friends, maybe even more then friends. It made no sense at all, but she did not doubt Cynder at all.

She believed that Imperia was dead, but she simply couldn't believe that it was because of Spyro. It was like her mind simply couldn't connect two facts. It just didn't work that way. Spyro couldn't kill Imperia. It was a rule of the world that had been broken.

Ember felt that her mind was going in circles, she snapped herself out of it by shaking her head violently.

But now, with her mind no longer preoccupied by how Imperia had died, she was forced to come to terms with the fact that the silver dragoness was dead. This line of thought hurt a lot more.

Ember felt herself getting close to crying. She held Cynder close for comfort. She'd only ever talked to Imperia a few times, but she'd instantly liked the kindness in the elder dragoness' behaviour and personality. Imperia had been supportive of Ember, and had seemed understanding of how frustrated Ember had been in trying to attract positive attention from Spyro.

Equally important was the way that Cynder felt about Imperia. Ember knew that Imperia had been the black dragoness' closest friend, aside from Spyro perhaps. Losing her must be hurting Cynder terribly, and Ember felt some of that pain in sympathy.

"I'm sorry Cynder… I know how much she meant to you." Ember wrapped her paws and tail around the sobbing black dragoness, this wasn't the Cynder she was used to, but it was still Cynder and Ember would do everything she could to help her.

Cynder responded in a surprisingly even voice considering that she was still crying, but speaking so quietly that Ember could barely hear her.

"It's not just me… There's Volteer, Flare, her class at the dragon academy. Spyro went dark and he just took her away…"

"And her twin sister…" Ember said, and she felt a new stab of pain, she hadn't thought of that at first. She knew that Imperia had many friends. There were so many who would miss her.

But right now the one who was most hurt was Cynder. Ember cradled the other dragoness gently, seeing that her efforts were having some effect.

It was incredible how strong Cynder was; Ember had no doubt at all that Cynder would fight though this. All she needed was one small bit of hope to focus on, something to give her the strength to overcome all the pain. Ember didn't care if it was her or Spyro or anyone else who gave Cynder that hope, just as long as it was given.

She didn't know how long she sat there with Cynder, but eventually the black dragoness stopped sobbing. Cynder just sat there with her head resting on Ember's shoulder and Ember remained perfectly still for her.

Eventually Ember noticed that they were being watched. An orc stood mutely at the doorway, watching them expectantly. Ember looked at it, and the creature looked back at her.

It seemed to want to say something, although it wasn't an expressive creature and there was no way for her to tell for sure what it was doing.

"What are you looking at?" She asked it.

The orc tilted its head, hearing the comment. It had no way to reply. Every time it had ever communicated with another creature it had been because the other creature had controlled its mind. It was incapable of initiating that sort of connection with another creature; its mind existed only to receive contact not to establish it. The General and Malefor could tell an orc what to do or hear what an orc had to report, but Cynder and Ember couldn't.

The orc, however, was a mindless creature. All it knew was to wait in this position until somebody around it did something. It did not think of going to get help, so it just stood there waiting to communicate.

Ember scowled at it, it was interrupting her thoughts. She wanted to think of Cynder and Imperia, not these weird creepy rock creatures.

The orc was eventually relieved by someone who knew how to command it. It turned and walked away emotionlessly. The General stepped into the doorway, replacing it.

"Ember. I struck you for your own good. Had you gone up to the platform you may have died."

Ember narrowed her eyes. "Maybe that's true. But I trusted you, and you attacked me while my back was turned."

"What?" Cynder was jerked out of her daze by this comment. She looked around and saw the General. "You again?"

The creature bowed and delivered its message briefly, it did not wish to be caught up in conversation. Not this time. This time Imperia was dead, and no conversation was desired. "The orcs inform me, and came here to inform you, that dragons are on their way. It is likely they are from Warfang and followed Malefor back here. I have ordered the gates be opened for them. Malefor has secluded himself in his library with his artefacts and taken with him Lady Imperia's remains, that part of the castle is sealed but the rest is now yours. There is nothing here that is worth protecting from Warfang anymore."

With that the General walked away to do whatever it did.

Ember gently raised Cynder to her feet. "We should go and see who's here."

Cynder sighed sadly. "The guardians have to stay together. They've probably all come here."

"Including Volteer and Flare." Ember finished the thought. "And Imperia was close friends with Terrador and Cyril too."

"I know we have to tell them." Cynder said. "Better to do it now then later. If I start crying again you tell them, ok?"

Ember nodded. "I'll be here with you."

Cynder was eventually proven to be correct. As she and Ember followed the corridors down, heading always in the direction that looked grandest and most luscious, they eventually came across a massive antechamber. The place was covered in glorious purple, jet black and stark white. Gold trimmed enormous curtains rose on two sides of the walls, and intricate windows of stained glass were set into the walls beside said curtains. On one of the two windows was the etched figure of a magnificent purple dragon, on the other was a sinuous dragon of silver. Imperia really had gone all out in decorating this room, and this time she'd included some tribute to herself as well.

There were two vast doors on the far side of the huge space, and through these doors swept a sizable group of dragons. In the lead was Terrador, and Volteer only a second behind him.

The two guardians instantly separated to avoid any attack, darting to opposite sides of the room and scanning the area for traps.

"Clear." Terrador growled.

"All is clear." Volteer agreed.

A moment later Cyril swooped into the room and landed lightly before the doors. Flare came immediately behind him, and a group of at least ten dragons followed her feather tipped tail.

The group looked wary, but also awed at the grandeur of the room they had stepped into. They were dripping on the carpet, being wet from the rain outside. Volteer was among the dragons that noticed this and awkwardly shook themselves dry. Terrador seemed not to care, while Flare was steaming slightly and did not appear wet at all.

Flare was the first to spot Cynder and Ember at the far end of the space, from the distance it took her a few moments to recognise the two figures she was looking at.

"Ember? Is that you? Cynder?" Flare stepped forwards. "Is this a trap?"

Cynder shook her head. "No trap." Her voice was soft and sad, seeing the beautiful image of the silver dragoness had not helped with her grief very much. "Malefor has given up fighting us."

This caused a murmur of surprise among the group. Cynder counted thirteen dragons, four of the guardians as well as nine other dragons she did not recognise.

"Sorry Cynder, but we won't trust your word just yet." Flare said apologetically. "There are other dragons outside, surrounding this fortress. If we don't signal then they'll storm the castle."

Cynder walked forwards, she was beyond caring about caution. "Whatever. There isn't any danger here now. It's all over."

"We came straight from Warfang as soon as we could, leaving the city under the control of Altia and Sheer, one of Cyril's aides." Volteer couldn't resist talking. "Both dragonesses were obvious choices for leadership and we were able to leave twenty minutes after Imperia and Malefor did. What could we have missed arriving here so rapidly, considering the extraordinarily prompt mobilization of out squadron, escort, foray, party, eh, ah Cynder, are you alright? You're covered in blood!"

Volteer was caught in the midst of his babbling as he suddenly realised just how distressed Cynder was looking. He stepped forwards with obvious concern. Volteer glanced at Terrador and the earth dragon nodded, allowing him to go to Cynder. Volteer gave Cynder a warm smile as he walked forwards, and that was enough to make Cynder's calm façade crack. "Cynder, are you alright?" he asked again.

The black dragoness shook her head silently, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Volteer hurried forwards and hugged her. In much the same way as she had with Ember she allowed herself to fold into his hug, beginning to cry. "Oh dear… What's wrong?" Volteer asked.

"It's S-Spyro he killed Imperia." Cynder managed to speak with only a slight tremble in her voice.

Volteer was paralysed by those words, it was nothing he'd expected, nothing he'd prepared for, those words went straight under his guard and struck his heart. His mouth opened and closed several times, soundlessly.

"What did she say?" Cyril asked, frowning. He'd heard only the word 'Spyro'.

"Spyro killed Imperia." An earth dragoness repeated automatically. The dragoness was green with two extraordinarily long horns that were slim, sharp, and a startling white colour, similar to Cynder's horns but larger. She considered herself one of Imperia's friends, and while she'd heard Cynder's words perfectly she was having trouble believing them.

Horrified silence filled the group, those few dragons who weren't close to Imperia themselves were admirers of Volteer or Flare, or friends with another friend of Imperia's, and nobody knew how to respond.

"Preposterous. Impossible." Cyril said, but he didn't sound very confident. "Spyro would never…"

"He was dark." Ember said. Once again three words stopped the conversation in its tracks.

Every dragon but one turned to look at Volteer, by unspoken agreement everyone waited for his reaction. Terrador and Cyril were both ready to step forwards if comfort was needed.

It wasn't long before the two of them did step forwards. Volteer was looking stunned and hurt, but he didn't quite cry. For many long moments he sat still beside Cynder, and then he looked down and spoke in a small hesitant voice.

"Cynder. The blood?"

Cynder began to cry harder, and her reaction answered Volteer's question eloquently.

Volteer stared at the blood, her blood, a few small streaks were now stuck to the yellow scales of his flank. "Oh no… Imperia… no."

Volteer held Cynder tighter; she was the closest thing to Imperia that was left.

Terrador rested a wing on Volteer's shoulder. Cyril stood by, too dignified to do the same thing but still determined to offer whatever comfort his presence gave.

For long minutes Volteer remained on the brink of crying, but then he swallowed despite the pain in his throat and looked around at the others.

"She wouldn't want us to grieve too much."

All of the dragons in the group except one heard those words, because one of the dragons was no longer in the group.

As soon as the earth dragoness repeated Cynder's words Flare had edged to the back of the small crowd. Everything that she had feared when she'd heard that Imperia had disappeared with Malefor was now realised. Once Ember's words had reached her she had silently turned around and walked back to the doors and the open sky. She did not wish to let anyone see her once she began to weep.

Flare spun her wispy tail once as she unfurled her wings, then she took off and fled into the rain. The drops that struck her body turned to steam instantly, but her tears stayed, burning hot on her cheeks. She didn't hear about the blood. She didn't see Terrador give Volteer comfort. She certainly didn't hear her mate's words.

Ignitus flew sombrely through the air, much higher than most dragons would dare to fly he gazed down at the land far below him.

He could not hurry, but nor could he delay. There was a time to arrive, and he would arrive then only. He wished that he could have arrived sooner, but there was no point. Whatever had happened had happened, it was too late to change it.

Ignitus was going to Cynder's fortress. The images of the future which he had seen made some sense in that context.

What he had thought was the ruins of a city could perhaps be the ruins of the old fortress, and there were cells and caves below the earth there where Cynder might be held, thus both of the images he had seen appeared to converge there. However he was still concerned.

The future was notoriously difficult to understand, and any attempt to change it could easily cause it to come to pass instead. The rest of the slim book he had found provided hints that some sort of event was to take place, but nothing that he could confidently interpret.

Why did the future have to be so blurry? He'd been able to more accurately predict parts of the future by observing the past then he could now from reading this accursed book.

Ignitus flew onwards, hoping that he was doing the right thing.

The Warfang dragons divided their forces. Most of them separated into pairs and fanned out to scout the fortress, Terrador and Cyril took the lead, although they didn't pair up with each other but instead paired with less experienced dragons.

Volteer was left with Cynder, along with a few of the other dragons who had known Imperia well. Cynder sat under Volteer's wing and listened to them talk.

The discussion was sad, but like Volteer had said they refused to let grief consume them. The dragons were deciding what to do next.

Volteer wanted to send someone back to Warfang with the news. There was no fighting to be done here, so the numbers that they had brought were not relevant. There were sixteen dragons in total, including the four guardians and the dragons that were still outside the fortress keeping watch. Cynder and Ember made eighteen now they had joined the Warfang group.

Terrador and Cyril were in charge of dealing with whatever they wanted to do with Cynder's Fortress and the purple dragon within it. Ember had made sure that everyone knew not to attack orcs unless they were attacked first. Terrador, while puzzled by her insistence, agreed and made it an order. Most of the dragons left, choosing different doors and walking away in pairs. Mourning for Imperia was Volteer's affair.

They would need to make a public announcement, but it was traditional that the friends of a deceased dragon were informed before any announcement was made.

Cynder had never thought that Imperia would have so many friends. She'd known the wind dragoness was a social creature, but she'd never realised just to what degree. The list of dragons who needed to be informed grew rapidly. It was hard to know who was a romantic or intimate partner and who was just a friend, Imperia had liked being a bit of both.

Cynder just sat and listened, finding a whole new dimension of Imperia's personality that she'd only seen hints of before. She may never have interacted with any of the dragons mentioned, but she'd have just liked to know about what Imperia had gotten up to.

"I'm not sure I can remember all of the names." The earth dragoness with the unusually long horns said.

Her name was Ivorii, although Cynder hadn't been listening when that had been brought up. Ivorii had volunteered to go back to Warfang with the information that Imperia was dead, but they were going to wait until the castle had been searched before sending her, in case there was anything else that the city needed to know about.

"Perhaps we should write them on paper." Volteer said. "Besides I don't think anyone knows everything about Imperia's antics. Except perhaps Flare. They shared everything." Volteer chuckled, thinking of the two dragonesses, but then he frowned. "Where is she?"

Cynder was confused, so it wasn't until Ember spoke up that she realised the problem.

"Flare is gone!" Ember exclaimed. "She didn't go with Master Terrador or Cyril, did she?"

The other dragons shook their heads, nobody remembered Flare going with the searching dragons, but she'd clearly gone somewhere.

"We should look for her." Cynder said.

"I will." Volteer said. He thought for a moment. "She wouldn't go somewhere new without telling anyone, no matter how upset she was. She won't have gone deeper into the castle." Volteer looked to the two doors leading outside. "She'll have flown away somewhere to be alone."

"Do you really think she'd be that upset?" Ember asked with interest. "Flare is always so cool and collected."

Cynder jabbed her warningly and spoke in a cold voice. "Imperia is dead, Ember. She was Flare's mate."

Ember shut up, her mind catching up with her mouth and realising that she'd said something very tactless. She wiped her eyes; she had sudden tears, feeling like an awful dragon.

Volteer nodded. "She loved Imperia, and the two of them parted badly. She will be that upset."

The electric guardian walked to the doors. Several of the others followed him, but Volteer waved them away with his tail.

"I'm her mate. I'd prefer to deal with this alone."

Volteer walked on alone and flew out the doors into the rain. He looked over the landscape below him, a threatening looking place of bleak ragged rock covered with huge crystalline structures. Where was a safe place to land, if you wanted to be able to cry in peace?

Volteer saw a few high crystals that could be landed on, but Flare wasn't perched on any of them.

Maybe crying in peace wasn't what she wanted to do. Volteer looked lower, among the crystals he saw moving things, creatures that were twisted and tormented. He also saw a trail of destruction, of little patches of fire still smouldering, and old bones smashed into splinters. Maybe she wanted to be angry.

From a distance it was an easy thing to miss, but the flickering fire could mean only one thing. Volteer swooped down and landed among the crystals.

Ghostly beasts that belonged among the dead moved in the shadows, creatures that were unnatural and horrible. Volteer didn't much care; they were no threat to him. The creatures didn't dare approach, the few who had gotten to near to the other dragon had been burned and torn apart, and none of the apes who had seen that fate wanted to suffer a similar one.

He walked briskly through the tangled forest of crystals, following the traces of fire and the bones and scraps of slain apes that had been left behind. In only a minute he had found a small cave, and he heard sobbing from within.

A few skulls and bones littered the ground around the cave, some of them recently burned. Volteer walked inside and waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom.

Flare came into view, curled up against the rear wall of the cave, her face buried in the complex folds of her wing. She heard Volteer coming and sent a whip of fire at him with her tail.

Volteer ducked under the attack, Flare sent another fire wave at him, and Volteer shielded his face with his wings, allowing his hard scales to deflect the heat.

Even a dragoness with Flare's skill would need to try harder than that if she wanted to hurt a dragon. Flare didn't hear the sounds of whatever was bothering her running away, so she looked up to find out what it was.

She looked at Volteer sadly. "I thought you were an ape. I'm sorry."

"If I was an ape I'd have run away." Volteer said.

"That was the whole point." Flare responded, and then she tucked her head back under her wing. "I want to be alone."

Volteer stayed where he was. Flare knew he hadn't left, but she didn't have any more anger with which to drive him away. She'd spent all of her anger on the apes; sadness was all she had left.

At least he didn't try to talk to her, she didn't want him to. But at the same time she was glad that he stayed.

Long minutes went past, and Flare cried for some of them. Eventually she couldn't stand the rough surface of the cave floor. She shifted slightly, and as if he had read her mind Volteer came over to her and lay down beside her, gently sliding his wing under her for her to rest on. Flare didn't say anything, and Volteer, incredibly, stayed silent; but Flare was grateful, and they both knew it.

Dark Spyro was alone, and lonely.

He had found his way back to the Dragon Temple where he had been an egg. It was a complete mess; three quarters of the temple had been lifted from the earth and suspended above the volcano in the Burned Lands, where the Dark Master had made his home. The rest of the temple had been sacked and broken down until it was hardly recognisable.

It looked more like a big hole in the ground than a former dwelling, but Spyro still found enough about the place familiar to be lost in memories of it.

He recalled the first time he had come here, scared but determined, guided by Ignitus.

Dark Spyro growled slightly, thinking of the past was upsetting, reminding him of the things that he had lost.

The hurt with which Cynder looked at him still stung, did she think he was some sort of evil creature? He wasn't evil. He wasn't.

But he'd killed Imperia, he'd killed his friend. Spyro's friend, but also his.

Dark Spyro shook his head, he walked aimlessly across the blasted earth where the temple had once stood, and his thoughts turned to the future.

The future was bright and good, it had so much potential. There were so many things that Dark Spyro wanted to do. He could start right now.

Dark Spyro scooped up a pawful of earth and looked at it; he selected a crumbling part of wall that was still mostly intact and reached out towards it with his magic, ripping the stone out of the ground.

With his earth element he shaped the rock into a tall thin form, the form of an orc. He set the orc's insides aflame with a slow dull smouldering heat that would give it the strength it needed. Orcs were made, unlike grublins, dragons, or any other creature in the world. He could make them.

The final step of making an orc was the one he knew least about. How to animate the creature. Spyro hit the orc with a surge of purple energy, it jerked, he waited for several seconds but the creature showed no signs of life. He rested a paw on its rocky head and offered it some scraps of his power, but he felt no response.

Dark Spyro sighed in annoyance. Making orcs was easy, it required only earth and fire; bringing them to life was difficult. He forced his power into the creature, but he forced too hard and the coals within the orc glowed bright until the body was burned beyond repair.

Dark Spyro swiped at the orc, and its body tore apart easily under his claws. Perhaps orcs were not worth the effort. He could do everything himself; he had power enough to fight even Malefor, nothing in the dragon realms could stand against him.

Every moment Dark Spyro grew stronger, he could feel it, the power surging through him, looping back on itself and always building higher and higher. He was reaching his natural potential much faster in this form than Spyro ever had. It was a glorious feeling, but without a use for that power it felt somehow… empty.

He needed something to do, some cause to strive for, or test to accomplish. He had nothing to do with all of his strength.

Well, nothing but destroying the world, and that wasn't looking all that appealing at the moment.

Bright future? Hah, he'd been a fool to think so for even a moment. Nothing was brighter than his past. Dark Spyro had never been happier than he had been as Spyro.

How strange…

Dark Spyro tapped his claws thoughtfully. What had Spyro once had that he now didn't?

Of course.

Cynder.

That's what he was feeling. It was the absence of Cynder that was making everything feel wrong. The moment Dark Spyro realised this the idea crystallised, becoming so clear and absolute that he could hardly believe he hadn't noticed it instantly.

He loved Cynder, he needed her to complete his life. Or… perhaps he needed her dark side.

Cynder was like him. She had a dark side. The Terror of the Skies. Spyro had fought Cynder's dark form and defeated her. The Terror of the Skies was broken, destroyed, but perhaps she could be saved. He had to hope that she could be saved.

Dark Spyro looked at the world around him with new eyes, he felt as if he had been blind before, but suddenly everything was so obvious and made perfect sense.

He would go to Cynder and she would be his mate, they would end Malefor and then the two of them could have the world for their own for as long as they pleased.

When they got bored of it, if they ever did, then they could destroy it together, destroy everything so utterly that it would be as if it had never existed. And then the purple dragon and the black dragoness would be alone together, and they could go out together, the last light in the world blinking out in one final moment, with one final kiss.

The beauty of the vision brought tears to Dark Spyro's eyes. He wanted nothing more than that.

The idea inspired him, and filled his heart with hope.

He laughed slightly.

That's what he was. Not evil, not a monster. He was not the dark copy or a fallen hero. He had a dream, something to strive for.

In fact that thought gave him the idea for his name.

That vision was who he was now. Not Spyro.

Hope.

-4Dragons