Hope was alone.

The waves far below were company of a sort. Pain was a more present partner. Spyro, hidden deep within his mind and stubbornly trying to wrest control back from him, was also there.

But Cynder was not, and she was the only one that mattered, the only thing in the whole world that was absolutely essential and that he could never ignore or destroy. Without her Hope was alone, no matter what trivial things crossed his mind.

It was for Cynder's sake that he was here, a solitary shape flying high above the ocean. He remembered that Malefor had found the library of the chronicler. Logically if Malefor could do it than Hope could as well, and when he did there would be his book and Cynder's book. Once he had both books he would see their destiny, and then all he would need to do was show Cynder what he found, and when she saw that they were fated to be together, when he offered her his eternal love… she would accept him, and return to her pure self as the Terror of The Skies.

Then the world would be complete. Then they could do whatever they wanted. It was perfect.

But there was one problem.

He couldn't find the Island!

Hope roared in fury, he had been creating a wind for himself to speed his journey, but now he called up a storm around himself to make him fly even faster, until the waves blurred past and he could barely see. There was nothing! Nothing!

He had flown without rest for a day and most of a night to reach the Legacy Sea. The White Isle was here, it had to be here! But where? How?

Hope slowed down, hovering. Blood dripped from his wings and fell to the sea far below. He had not been shielding his wings the way that Cynder could, and the long hours of great speed had taken their toll. His wings were ragged and bloody, the scales worn through by the roughness of the wind. They were healing slowly even as he watched, but it took all of Hope's resistance to pain to keep himself aloft.

By the time he found the island and flew back to Warfang he might have no wings at all. Like Suna.

Hope chuckled at the memory of the fire dragon screaming. Maybe he should have taken his other wing too. Teach that idiot drake a lesson for daring to compete for Cynder's affection.

But no, he had spared him for a good reason. If Cynder wanted Suna as her plaything then she could have him. Hope wanted Cynder to be utterly happy, he would not break the things that she liked. At least… not if he could help it.

The silver dragoness was dead and gone, that had not entirely been his fault, lashing out in panic and anger as Spyro had almost succeeded in crushing him back into the darkness, but he had still done it. He hoped Cynder could forgive that. Imperia. She had meant a lot to Cynder, and to Spyro as well. She would almost certainly have made a good pet. Hope would have been pleased if Cynder had wanted to keep her. Hope felt no desire for Imperia's body, Spyro might have felt like that towards Imperia; Hope wasn't quite sure; but Cynder was the only thing that he loved in that way. Still… he had liked Imperia. She had been amusing.

The pain was really annoying, but the feeling in his wings was only a minor concern compared to how much it burned him to be unable to face Cynder. Every moment he waited he would need to get back, he-

No… he had an eternity, he had all the eternities to come. Endless time to spend with Cynder. He needed to do things right. The time he had to wait now wouldn't mean anything once she had finally come to her senses and accepted his true nature… and her own.

He began to flap slowly in a direction, following the sun. He knew where south was, he needed south to get back to Cynder. Other than that he was only following his instincts, not really knowing where to look. Malefor had supposedly found the island with ease, but Hope did not know how to do that. It was frustrating. He could have killed Malefor in combat, but in at least one way the irritating old dragon still had the advantage over him.

Blood dripped, brushed off his wings by the wind; swirling and falling to the sea far far below. The drips were out of time, hard to count. He stopped trying after several minutes. Scanning the horizon for something, anything, was a better use of his attention.

There… something distant.

Hope flew closer, seeing something huge on the horizon, partly hidden by clouds. Soon he recognised land. Solid ground. Only… it wasn't solid. It was floating. An entire mountain range, floating slowly away across the ocean as if it had been too lazy to come all the way back down after Spyro had repaired the world.

Hope narrowed his eyes. The legends said that the Ancestors held their councils on a floating island beyond the waves. Now Hope had located a floating island shrouded in mysterious clouds; could this be the place?

There were still waves below the island, but it was the only thing worth finding that he had yet spotted out here.

Hope wondered if he would be able to stand up to the Ancestors if he fought them. They were pure embodiments of traits, their powers would surely be strong but narrowly focused. Perhaps he could threaten them into giving him what he wanted. They would need to be destroyed eventually one day, but he would want Cynder by his side for that.

Legends on the Ancestors and their home were frustratingly vague, the only real details were in how a dragon ought to go about respecting and seeking the help of them in prayer. There were stories of great temples and fountains, of council chambers and ethereal dragons surrounding a pool of visions, but nothing of what the ancestors were made of or why they were there.

Hope saw none of that as he flew closer, but he did see new things of interest. The floating island was in fact at least six individual islands, all travelling in a loose pack. Huge flying creatures slowly swooped around them, and the islands themselves had massive sails built out of their mountains to catch the wind.

A distant sound reached Hope, the slow and rhythmic whomp of propellers. As he got close enough to make out individual peaks and valleys in the green forests he finally saw enough to realise what he had come across.

The flying creatures were not living things, they were ships, hundreds of massive floating ships circling these islands. There were ramshackle towns on the islands, and each island had vast propellers and rudders to control it.

The clouds were steam and smoke, both expelled in great quantities from the chimneys on the floating land and from pipes in the flying ships.

An alarm was raised, a cacophony of howls and barks came from above. Hope growled as a huge ship descended on him from the clouds, followed by two smaller ones. A scouting group, or some guards. Either way they were now bearing down on him, dozens of canons emerging from the ships sides and turning to sight him.

Skavengers. Hope narrowed his eyes as he watched them fly. With a beat of his wings he ascended, hearing the creatures scramble to target him again. Flying above the three ships now he looked down at them, watching the crews scramble about on the decks.

Skavengers were a part of the wolf race. The technical term for the entire race was canines, but it was far simpler to put Skavengers in a group with their eastern wolf cousins and ignore the subtle differences.

Crossbow users on the larger ship gathered at the front and took aim, Hope dove as they opened fire. A few bolts bounced off his scales without so much as scratching him, one stuck in a raw part of his wing, stabbing into him painfully but not slowing him down. A lucky shot. The rest all missed, and some even landed on the smaller ships causing angry yelling between the crews.

The bigger ship was setting up a larger crossbow like device with heavy nets being loaded into it. Hope had also dodged back into range of the canons, and a few of the Skavengers fired their canons at him before being given orders. Hope dodged those too, being hit by a cannonball would be irritating.

He circled over the bow, deciding if he ought to kill them all. He had nothing in particular against Skavengers, but it annoyed him that he had been searching for so long and all he had found was these mangy annoying mutts.

Hope swooped and grabbed one of the crossbow wielders in a paw, yanking him off the ship and holding him. He had been incautious and took a few more crossbow bolts right in the chest, but none of them gave him more than scratches as his scales stopped them dead in their flight.

The dark dragon examined his prize, seeing fear in the Skavenger's expression. The thing stank of alcohol and unwashed fur. It still held a crossbow and wore a cutlass, but used neither of them. Skavengers had much shorter fur than the cold dwelling wolves. It made them look smaller and less graceful, even though they were essentially the same creatures. They also had orange fur, instead of the brown more common in wolves. It had been many ages ago when the Skavengers had began to turn to piracy, and they had adapted well over time to the cramped conditions of a ship and the heat of the sun above the clouds. They could almost be considered their own race now.

More yelling and the sound of a cannon firing brought Hope back to the situation. The smaller ships were lining up against him now, and it was one of them who had fired a cannon early this time. Hope held up his captive for them to see.

"Do not attack me again. Tell me where to find the dragon Chronicler or you all die, starting with this one here."

He did not expect a response, and all he got was a barrage of insults. No matter. These beasts wouldn't know where to find the Chronicler anyway. Soon the two smaller ships launched their broadside cannons at him, about fifty cannonballs in total. Hope created a wall of ice around himself and listened, hearing the metal crash into his defences. The ice almost cracked totally, but it held firm for the entire onslaught and he heard the order to reload.

Hope let the ice fall to the sea, and then he dropped his Skavenger as well, listening to it scream as it plummeted down. He would waste no more time being defensive.

Hope accelerated down to one of the smaller ships, running along it's underside to the main propeller. He grabbed it and tore it off in one movement. A Skavenger with a sword came swinging down on a rope, followed by another one who crawled along the hull guiding a replacement propeller. Hope smacked both of them off the ship with a single swipe of his tail, then he punched a hole in the side of the ship and breathed fire inside.

There were screams, he increased the heat of his fire until he was certain the ship would catch alight. Skavenger ships were made of wood and only sometimes had vital points reinforced with metal. Easy enough to burn.

Leaving that ship to its own devices Hope moved on to the second small ship. As he landed on the mast a hail of cannonfire from the largest ship tore through the sails, barely missing him but crippling the second ship too. Skavengers were used to fighting land based towns or ships which travelled by sea. A flying fire breathing dragon was not part of their normal battle scenario. A single dragon could probably wreak havoc with their entire fleet. The location and nature of the Skavenger's home had always been kept secret by captured pirates. Hope might have been the first dragon to ever see it. No wonder they had been so quick to try and chase him away.

The foolish Skavengers could destroy each other without too much help from him, but Hope was impatient. He swooped down to the main deck of the smaller ship, forming a boulder around himself just before he landed. The weight broke straight through the ship, tearing it in half and sending it falling. Hope snapped his wings open, not willing to go down with it. He pulled the arrow from his injured wing while also looking to make sure the first ship was completely ablaze. It was, and slowly sinking towards the sea far below. Skavengers were jumping out or piling into little lifeboats. The lifeboats had large balloons on top of them, Hope would be surprised if they could actually fly at all, but he'd let them try it. If their little ship did fly he might even be impressed enough to let the lucky ones on it survive.

There was only one ship remaining, the biggest one. Hope considered it thoughtfully, it was no threat to him. Perhaps he could amuse himself with it. It might take his mind off the pain in his wings while he waited for them to heal.

He gathered up a storm of lightning around him and let it lance through the ship. Some of the wood was scorched, but the structure as a whole was mostly undamaged. Everyone in it would probably be dead now though. A few more Skavengers fell past him, along with several broken lifeboats.

Hope landed on the side of the ship and clambered his way up, his claws digging into the wooden planks. He stepped onto the deck, looking around to see if any pests were alive. One Skavenger ran at him immediately, it was smoking from the aftereffects of lightning, driven mad by fear and pain. Hope smacked its sword away and used his wingtip to throw the thing straight off the edge.

One other Skavenger was still standing, a significantly bigger one than any of the others. He also had a big hat, and a jewel encrusted sword. Hope growled threateningly.

"You mad dragon!" The Skavenger yelled at him. His voice was gruff and full of absolute fury. "Look what you did! You're gonna pay!"

Hope snarled and began to stalk towards him. The captain backed away slightly, holding his sword out in front of him.

"You better run right now dragon, the fleet will get here soon. We've got dragon hunting boats that are gonna cut you down if you don't scram like the coward you are!"

"If they arrive before I'm done then I'll kill them too." Hope said coldly.

"Well I'm going down with my ship, and I'll make sure that you do too! Nobody kills my men and gets away with it!"

With a roar the Skavenger charged at him. Hope chuckled, gathering ice magic and shooting a lethally sharp spear from his maw. The Skavenger tried to turn, but the ice still hit him, impaling him and knocking him onto his back. Hope laughed and finished him off with another ice spear.

Ships were coming, they must have seen the fire and heard the canons, even if they hadn't realised it was a dragon attack. Hope looked over as at least thirty ships formed into an attack formation and made their way over to investigate. He had a few minutes before they arrived, time enough to have a look around this place.

The ship smelled, but from a Volteer-ish perspective of curiosity it was impressively well designed. If only moles didn't hate flying so much they might have been able to learn a lot from the design.

Spyro, not Hope, was the one who looked over the side of the ships, seeing dozens if not hundreds of pipes down there for venting steam. What was the steam coming from? How was the ship floating?

Spyro went belowdecks, looking at the carnage that Hope had caused. He didn't like Skavengers very much, but seeing the still forms burned by lightning made him feel slightly sick. Hope was willing to indulge him for now, but only as long as Spyro kept on being curious rather than giving in to guilt or horror.

There was an engine room for powering the propellers, and here Spyro found the source of the steam. The Skavengers were using mana crystals to heat water, turning the water into steam, and using that to power their propellers. It was very clever, for a bunch of vicious pirates. Even Volteer had only ever made vague experiments with this sort of device. Dragons had no need for such fancy machines, and most other technical accomplishments were feats of architecture and seigecraft. Still, maybe the moles could make better use of such inventions. If Hope didn't kill them before explaining it to them.

Spyro poked around at the engine, seeing the ventilation pipes to the outside of the ship. Then he noticed the room also contained a very well reinforced vat of some liquid, with pipes leading down to the gun decks. Breaking one of the pipes made a spillage of some clear fluid. Spyro smelled it curiously, it had a strong smell. It was uninteresting to touch, but it had to be for something important.

Spyro decided to try the obvious test, shooting a few sparks at the liquid and immediately getting an explosive facefull of fire as a result. He hurriedly snuffed out the flames before they could reach the tank. If fire got into that then the whole ship would explode. The liquid was highly flammable.

He wandered the lower rooms curiously, finding the cannon decks and stinky sleeping areas. He wondered how the ship kept afloat; probably with some sort of magic, but he wasn't going to have time to find out. The other ships would be coming to investigate, and Hope had more important things to do than stay here and kill them all.

The dark dragon crushed Spyro away back into the corners of his mind, wishing he could purge him entirely but knowing that doing so would be impossible. For now he needed Spyro, and had no way to be rid of his other self. Hope stalked up to the top decks, checking his wings and seeing they were mostly healed. He'd probably grind them raw again soon but he would look forwards to a few hours of painless flight. Hope took off from the deck and began to head south, back towards land and dragons and Cynder.

He looked back at the approaching Skavenger fleet as he left them behind to sort out his handiwork. He noticed that one lifeboat which he had let live was floating under a large balloon, and was about to be picked up by other ships. How amusing.

Hope had failed in his first goal, of finding proof in the White Isle that he and Cynder were destined to be together. He would need some other way, or he would need to gather his courage and face her. How frustrating.

Hope beat his wings slowly as he flew back across the ocean. His thoughts were in turmoil now, he wasn't sure what to do or where to go. This was all Malefor's fault. Why had that accursed dragon had to return? Hope had been biding his time with Spyro for over a decade now, waiting for the perfect moment to eclipse him and declare himself ruler of Warfang. It would have been quick and simple, with a relatively small amount of bloodshed. Spyro liked all of the guardians, so Hope would have let them live if they served him. Most of the annoying young dragons and dragonesses in the city would have been killed, along with Altia and a few other individuals who Spyro had disagreed with in the past. No genocide or massacre, just executing some troublemakers.

But Malefor had spoiled all of that, riling up the dragons and even trying to destroy Hope completely. At this rate he might need to start a war with the other purple dragon for control of the world.

Hope sighed. He didn't want a difficult fight, he only wanted himself and Cynder to be able to enjoy a perfect world together. That world did not have Malefor, or Ember or anyone in besides the two of them; really. Some of Cynder's precious friends if she asked him, although now Imperia was gone Hope doubted that she'd care much for anyone else.

He needed to go to Cynder, and soon. But for now… Hope was alone.

Cyril looked up from a long list of names, neatly written by his claw dipped in ink. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, accidentally getting ink on his scales. The ice guardian stood up and stretched, then opened the door.

"Sheer!"

The ice dragoness he'd called for opened her own door and looked at him. "Yes sir? I'm finishing the report for Terrador."

"Did anything worthy of reporting happen?" Cyril asked.

"Of course not, and Terrador knows that as well as we do. But I want to make it a thorough report anyway."

"I approve. If something is worth being done by an ice dragon then it's worth being done perfectly." Cyril smiled. "However I have a more important task. Please go find Cynder and Ignitus, ask them to come to me in the small meeting chamber so that we can finalise locations to search for Spyro. I have over a hundred volunteers but I need to know where they're going before I can sort them into groups."

"Of course." Sheer bowed. "Anyone else I can fetch for you?"

Cyril shook his head. "I'll talk to Terrador, Volteer and…" He looked irritated. "And Malefor."

"What about Flare and Imperia?"

"Flare can come if she wants, although I don't expect she'd have much to add. And as for Imperia, she has no right to say anything after what she's done."

"But she knows Spyro better than most of us, and she's smart."

Cyril huffed. "Fine. You gather the others. I'll speak to Imperia now, just in case she can redeem herself by being useful."

Sheer bowed again and walked away. Working with Cyril was a thankless and deeply annoying task, but she believed that ice dragons had a duty to help each other, and Cyril was the foremost ice dragon in Warfang. If there were too few young ice dragons in Warfang then it'd be someone's duty to bear a child for Cyril, and that duty would probably be hers. She didn't mind that idea too much, although he certainly wouldn't have been her first choice of mate. Cyril didn't have a work life, he was simply always in his irritable and bossy mode. He had never sought out a mate of his own volition, he was far more concerned with his job and his usual duties. Happily for him there were enough ice dragons who were capable of romantic love that he didn't need to do that duty for his race.

Duty was important to Sheer as well. When she was working she would be just as cold and distant as Cyril; and she tended to have even more attention to detail, but at least she knew how to have a night out with her friends.

The ice dragoness decided to look for Cynder first, as she'd probably be the hardest to find. Malefor she'd probably leave till last, as even though she didn't want to admit it she was quite intimidated by the idea of talking to him.

Cyril, meanwhile, was walking down the staircase to the cells below the dragon temple. He didn't like these cells very much, they were too close to the centre of power in the city for his taste, however they had only ever been used for dragons, and only for short periods of time before a better location could be found. The idea of common criminals, or even more cultured and polite prisoners like Imperia, being kept so near to a place of such importance irritated him. The presence of these cells degraded the noble positions of the dragons in the temple. In large part it was due to Cyril himself that these prisons were so rarely used, and he considered that a satisfying victory; incomplete though it was.

These thoughts in his head he couldn't quite wipe the snobbish expression from his face before the prisoners in the cell saw it.

Cyril froze in shock. Flare was in the cell with Imperia and the door was shut tight. The fire dragoness rose gracefully to her feet from where she had been sitting on the bed. Imperia flopped about at Flare's feet, not seeming bothered to get up.

"What? Flare? Imperia? What? This is against regulations! What in the name of the ancestors are you doing locked in the cell!?" He gaped for a few seconds, then continued before either of them could speak. "Are you imprisoned Flare? What did you do? Did you try to free Imperia!?"

Imperia began giggling.

Flare laughed, amused. "Cyril?"

The ice guardian stopped, blinking at the red dragoness. "Yes?"

"The door isn't locked."

Cyril tried the door, sure enough it opened. He frowned. "That is also against regulations!"

Imperia giggled up at them, clearly in a great mood and finding this very funny.

Flare nodded. "It is, but I've decided Imperia is here on a trust basis. We'll know if she leaves, and she knows better than to try."

"Do you have that authority?" Cyril asked sceptically.

"Yes I do." Flare said. "Check if you like, but Imperia is classified as a diplomatic prisoner due to her association with Malefor, and I'm classified as both her mate and a Guardian of Warfang. That means unless another guardian raises a concern I have final authority over the arrangements under which she's kept. Raise a concern if you must, Cyril. But please don't."

Imperia stopped her giggling after needing a moment to follow what Flare had said.

Cyril sighed. "I suppose that's not necessary. You seem to have things under control."

Flare smiled at him gladly. "Thankyou Cyril."

The ice dragon inclined his head in response to her gratitude before changing the subject. "You two seem to be getting along again."

"You almost sound happy for us." Flare teased him, before nodding. "But yes, I suppose I've forgiven her… mostly. She'll need to be on good behaviour though."

"Hmpf…" Cyril huffed slightly. "It'll take more than that for me to forgive her, but I suppose for her close friends it's fine to not be so angry. Just don't let it cloud your judgement."

Flare nodded politely. "Of course."

"Did you come here just to tell us off?" Imperia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, actually. Now that I mention judgement, I've in fact come here to get yours, Flare, and your expertise Imperia."

"Oh?" Imperia asked curiously.

"On what subject?" Flare specified.

"I'm organising the search parties for finding Spyro. I have roughly a hundred and twenty volunteers, I've made certain they're all capable and mature, I turned away almost as many dragons as I accepted. Do either of you have any important advice?"

"I don't think I have any special insight." Flare said. "Just think everything through before you send out the dragons, have them prepared for what to do if they find him or he finds them."

"Their safety is my first priority, no matter how much I like and respect Spyro my duty is to the citizens of Warfang and our territory. No one dragon is of more importance than our population." Cyril said gravely, with more than a little bit of pompousness.

"You're the best dragon for the job." Imperia said sincerely, smiling.

"Thankyou. Now, do you have anything important to say? Any places to search that we might not think of?"

Imperia nodded. "Definitely go over the western mushroom forests and the ruins of the old temple, I'm sure he'd go there to lay low for a while. Also keep in mind that he'll be able to travel long distances now that he has unlocked his wind element." Imperia smiled.

"Yes yes, it's the fifth guardian element. We can discuss it later I'm sure. Continue." Cyril said stiffly.

"I expect he's going to be drawn to familiar places and faces, send dragons to check on Shattershelf and keep a very close eye on Cynder, Sparx, Seizo and all of the young dragons he knows. The two dragonflies who raised Spyro in the swamp; I met them once and they were lovely, don't underestimate how important they might be to Dark Spyro. The volcano, the broken dam, all the places he might find familiar."

"Got it." Cyril nodded. Then he frowned again. "I haven't seen Sparx in quite some time. I have hardly missed that undersized nuisance, but I had better make sure he isn't getting up to trouble."

"I think he went to visit his parents, which only makes it more important you get a search party over there. And tell them to be nice and very careful, dragonflies are quite scared of us big beasts."

"One more thing. Malefor mentioned that Spyro will be looking for something, but when he started to give an example he stopped. What example was he going to give? It sounded important. And what do you think Dark Spyro will be looking for?"

"I'm going to guess that Dark Spyro will be looking for love. Don't bet everything on it, but something tells me that his every move will be made with one goal in mind, and that goal will be Cynder."

"We'll have her guarded." Cyril said immediately.

"You don't want to do that." Imperia warned. "She won't let you, and you don't want to drive her from the city by trying to force her into something. Please."

Cyril sighed. "Fine. And what is it that Malefor was looking for when he turned dark?"

Imperia sighed. "I'm afraid that's his story to tell. It's personal. You'll have to ask him about it."

"Is that all?" Cyril asked.

Imperia nodded. "I hope so. Good luck, and if you need me then I'm here."

"Not happening." Flare said immediately, and Cyril nodded in agreement.

"I'll talk to the others now and get this started." Cyril said. "And Flare is right, you're not going anywhere." He turned and walked back up the stairs.

By the time Cyril made it to the meeting chamber Sheer had gathered all of the others he had asked for, Cyril nodded to Terrador, Volteer, Ignitus and Cynder. Malefor got a half nod, which Cynder thought was generous.

She wasn't totally sure why they'd all been called, she'd rather expected Cyril to do all of this himself. Malefor seemed similarly surprised, and a bit tired. He sat near to Cynder, nodding slightly to her before looking to the Guardians.

Cyril cleared his throat. "We have about a hundred and twenty volunteers, all qualified and capable dragons. My current plan is to divide them into search parties of four or more dragons. Most of the group will be dedicated to the mushroom forests and dragon temple where Spyro was a child. A group will also go to Spyro's dragonfly adoptive parents. Other scouting teams will be sent to Shattershelf and some of the small towns in Warfang territory. Does anyone else have suggestions?"

"The catacombs?" Volteer offered.

"A fine suggestion. I'll send a team there, two if I can spare the numbers. Also to the volcano and to the broken dam."

"The volcano is a strong possibility. It's near to Warfang and has significance to him." Malefor agreed.

"Imperia told me that Dark Spyro will almost certainly be seeking Cynder." Cyril said.

They all looked to the black dragoness, who shrugged. "Fine, I'll be one of the best prepared to help him. It's going to be much easier if he comes to me."

The others nodded thoughtfully, although Terrador had a concerning thought. "That means he might be coming straight here to the heart of Warfang. We'll need to be careful."

Cynder smiled. "Careful is my usual mood, but you're right about us needing to be ready for him to show up in Warfang."

Ignitus cleared his throat. "This is almost certainly linked to the reason I am here. I found a book which appeared to prophecy the future. In the book were two pictures that worried me greatly, worried me enough to make me leave the island where my library is hidden."

"Pictures?" Volteer asked with interest.

Ignitus nodded. "The first showed a black dragoness crying in a dark cell, and the second showed two purple dragons laying side by side in a ruined city. The purple dragons looked dead, and the city… it looked like Warfang."

"I see…" Malefor said thoughtfully.

"At first I thought that it was you and Spyro on top of Cynder's fortress, while Cynder cried in a prison below the fortress. That seems to have not been the case, as the future I feared did not take place atop the fortress."

"Although things certainly still went pretty badly." Cynder admitted.

"Indeed, but at least you are all alive." Ignitus said with a reassuring smile.

"For now." Malefor said grimly.

Terrador cleared his throat. "This is valuable information, although all of our legends have said that future telling is unreliable at best. So because the image of the black dragoness appeared first do we assume that that happens first? And if so can we prevent the second image by preventing the first one?"

"Possibly." Ignitus said. "Although it's impossible to tell for certain."

"I'll make sure not to cry in any dark places." Cynder said, smiling slightly. But the idea that the death of Spyro was already prophesised sent a chill of fear and dread through her. Still it wasn't going to happen, not while she was still here to stop it.

"All the more reason why we should leave Warfang." Malefor said. "Both Cynder and myself."

Cyril nodded. "I think that would be wise."

"I think we should wait for the search parties to return before sending anyone else off. In which case it's all the more important we finish this meeting and get them underway as soon as possible. If they leave tomorrow morning then they can have two days to search. Does that suit?"

The others all nodded, but then Cyril cleared his throat as he saw his opportunity to ask the question that had been on his mind for some time.

"Imperia mentioned something else, something Malefor started to tell us when we first talked about the search parties." Cyril looked to the purple dragon. "You were looking for something, something to do with all your power. What was it?"

"She didn't tell you?" Malefor asked curiously.

"No, she said it was personal. But I nevertheless want to know."

Malefor sighed. "It is, but as you're so insistent on knowing I'll tell you."

He cleared his throat.

"My dark side first appeared when I was roughly ten years old, too young to remember it properly, but I was told that when I'd get angry I'd lash out violently with shadowy unknown magic. Medicine to dull pain helped repress it, and I was given a special room I could go to where I wouldn't be able to harm anyone. They allowed me to continue my studies, already seeing an unusual natural talent with magic in me."

"No unusual modesty." Cyril muttered.

"Hypocritical coming from you, my friend." Volteer told the ice dragon. "Now let's not interrupt."

Malefor glanced at them before continuing.

"My education progressed for the next thirty years with no significant incidents, and then I educated myself for another ten years once the old Guardians and all other dragons I could find had nothing more to teach me. I first became curious about the apes in those ten years, their society seemed… neater… than ours. At the time they were moral and united creatures, uncorrupted by my dark magic."

Malefor looked distant, sorting through his memories.

"Occasionally my dark side would show itself for a few seconds or minutes, but it was little more than an annoyance; until I got my first taste of war. It was hardly a war, a small dragon settlement to the north of Warfang was blamed for the murder of some cheetah children. I don't know if they did it or not, but when the cheetahs sent embassies who demanded that the killer come forward and face execution then through a number of unlucky accidents the embassies ended up torched." He chuckled slightly.

"It seems so stupid looking back, it's probably less than a footnote in dragon or cheetah history. They attacked the settlement of dragons and were beaten back, but not totally without losses. A force from Warfang was called in to chase the cats out of the land. I had no experience as a commander or a fighter in anything but training, so I was interested to have a combat experience."

The purple dragon sighed. "You may struggle to believe this, but what I saw horrified me. I was shocked when the cheetahs tried to fight us back, just like the dragons had done to them. The force of combat ready dragons went through them like a scythe through wheat, the village was destroyed. But they weren't leaving. For the next week they fought a guerrilla campaign against us from the forest, killing at least ten dragons in their sleep. Eventually our orders went from chasing them away to complete destruction. I had yet to lift a claw in this entire disaster, but eventually we caught them in a clearing where they made their final doomed stand. While the other dragons were busy one of the cheetahs slipped past the attack team to where the rest of us waited. I was the one in his way, and he ran at me brandishing a blood covered knife."

"We know better than to attack the cheetahs now." Terrador said as Malefor paused for breath. "Your story, and many like it, eventually taught us to let them live their lives in peace."

"Good…" Malefor said distractedly. He thought for a moment and nodded. "That's good. Now, the cheetah ran at me. Perhaps he would have run past me, or he was trying to take one dragon down with him. I don't know, but just before he reached me I overcame my fear and ran him through with a spike of ice. The first sentient thing I ever killed. It wasn't even the Dark Master who did the deed."

"But the dark side does come in times of stress or need." Cynder said thoughtfully. "Spyro has shown that."

"You're right. Early on that is how it works, but going through a week of fear and stress, seeing the deaths and then ending it by killing a cheetah… that triggered a more permenant shift, the sort of shift Spyro is experiencing right now."

"So that's the story?" Cyril asked with a frown.

"Not all of it." Malefor said. "After the Dark Master took over he wanted to be alone for a while. He went after cheetahs and killed them, wanting to experience that feeling for himself. He found it boring, so he killed a few of the hunting team dragons too. Then he vanished away into ape territory before anyone could even figure out what was going on. He came back within a week, though, and this time he was looking for something."

"Looking for what?" Volteer asked, fascinated.

"My biological parents." Malefor said softly. "And if Spyro doesn't know then Dark Spyro may want to do the same thing."

"Neither Spyro or I know anything about where we came from." Cynder said, then she looked to the Guardians. "Unless you know?"

"Your egg was brought to us by a lightning dragoness, but she never claimed to be your mother, she disappeared not long after giving you to the sanctuary of eggs and we heard reports she'd been killed in the war with the apes. I'm sorry I don't have anything more to tell you." Terrador said softly to Cynder.

Cynder absorbed that for a long moment. She had been brought to the temple by a lightning dragoness, her mother perhaps? But perhaps not… She had to have a mother somewhere, somehow… but the only dragon who might have known was apparently dead. Cynder felt a flash of sadness for that dragoness, but there were more pressing matters to focus on.

"What about Spyro's egg?" Cynder asked.

"That interests me too." Malefor said. "The search of my dark side proved… disastrous. Do you have any leads on Spyro?"

"Again, sadly not." Terrador sighed. "I found his egg myself, buried in soft earth about a mile outside of a small dragon village where the inhabitants had all been slaughtered by apes. The ground felt relatively firm, but the egg came to the surface in a rainstorm. I cannot be sure if the egg had been there a day or a hundred years. I just don't know."

"A hundred years? Can eggs really survive that long?" Cynder asked curiously. Spyro might have, indirectly, been much much older than her. No matter, they'd been born at about the same time.

Ignitus took that question. "Eggs can survive for a long time. It depends on where they are kept. The mushroom forest, for example, has a high concentration of magic. That's why the egg sanctuary was built there, so far from Warfang, in the first place and that's also why I put Spyro's egg in the stream there when I… when I abandoned him. I should have done more, but at least I put his egg in a place where, if it needed to, it could have survived safely for centuries if not longer." Ignitus sighed softly and then smiled at them. "I am trying to stop blaming myself for that, but it's not easy."

"We all failed those eggs." Volteer said. "Although to be fair our defences were excellent, impeccable, thorough, suitable and quite effective. It's just that they were avoided by the apes because… well… because Imperia gave them secret information. So, though I don't like to say it, if it hadn't been for her then the eggs would have been perfectly safe. Don't blame yourself Ignitus."

"And even then it wasn't her fault." Malefor said defensively. "Blame the Dark Master for giving the order, and then blame me for being too weak and useless to stop him."

"Enough blaming." Terrador said firmly. "We need to help Spyro. Everything else can be set aside for now. Malefor, what happened when your dark side tried to find his parents?"

"He found them." Malefor said. "Or he found some dragons who he thought were them."

"And?" Cyril asked.

"There were three." Malefor said. "And even he knew that that wasn't how parents worked. Open relationships happen certainly, but there was one who was spare and he didn't know which was his real mother. In hindsight I'm not even totally certain that they were my real parents at all, but they could have been. The fire drake said he was my father, and then he said that the ice dragoness was my mother. But then she denined it and said that a lightning dragoness was my mother. When the Dark Master questioned the lightning dragoness she also claimed to be my mother."

Cynder raised an eyebrow, trying to picture the situation. "So how did you, I mean, how did the Dark Master figure out who was telling the truth?"

Malefor laughed bitterly. "He didn't. He had no idea how to handle the situation, and so he panicked. He brought the three of them together, and soon they started arguing. He didn't know what was happening or how to stop it, and soon his anger got the better of him and he killed all three of them."

"I see." Cyril said, not surprised but still rather disturbed to hear of three dragons being killed due to something like that.

"I think that my real mother was the ice dragoness, but I don't know, and I can't even remember their names so I'm in no real position to judge any of them." Malefor sighed. "The only good to come of this was that after killing them my dark side retreated back into me, letting me come back. He was gone for most of a year, time which I spent trying to design a prison in convexity in which to trap him."

"I see." Terrador said in understanding. It made a lot of sense.

"I needed the help of the old Guardians of the time. I let them imprison me in the safe room made for me, and they let me study without undergoing a trial for my crimes. It worked for both parties… for a while. I completed my research and gave the plans to the guardians as a last resort, but not long afterwards the Dark Master regained control over my body."

He shrugged wearily.

"The Guardians tried to put him on trial, but he broke their safe room apart. His power was almost uncontainable by that stage. They declared him exiled, not able to bring themselves to try and kill him when there was a hope I could still return, so they let him leave without trying my plan. But it was the Dark Master who returned, with an army of corrupted apes. My design worked and the Guardians trapped me in Convexity, but not without cost. Many dragons died and the apes and dragons were plunged into a war that continues even to this day. Although I guess the apes are more or less defeated now. So that's my story, that's how I came to be where and what I am now. It's how I know most of what I know about Dark Spyro's likely behaviour."

"This has been quite enlightening." Terrador said. "Thankyou for telling us."

Malefor nodded. "I hope it helps. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Writing this chapter was a lot of fun, although editing it ended up taking a lot longer than I had expected. I enjoy writing scenes with Hope in them, and finally getting to solidly explain Malefor's history is something I've been looking forwards to doing. I hope it was worth the wait!

I think that's about all I have to say. Thanks for reading and reviewing! :D

-4Dragons