Writing these chapters has been challenging but enjoyable so far, I've had to spend a lot of time thinking about how to put them together, as there are many different pieces which need to come together to make this happen.

It wasn't exactly my choice to bring in a new character so close to the end of the story, especially one as complicated and powerful as Darkmire/Pain, but this story wanted to come full circle, for the finale of the story to return to the place where it started.

Pleasure listened with rapt attention as Spyro talked, he told her about Cynder and Ignitus and Imperia. He told her about the amazing things they had done, how hard they tried, and did his best to honestly explain their flaws and mistakes.

While he spoke Scara had returned, bringing with him a waterskin, a large leather sack filled with chilled water from freshly melted snow. Pleasure had accepted the waterskin, drinking and even eating some more of the salted meat cubes she'd been struggling to eat before.

It was immediately visible to see how much this was helping her, the dullness in her eyes, the paleness of her mouth and tongue, and the way her head drooped while she sat had all started to improve.

Her eyes had a faint glimmer to them, able to focus on Spyro for multiple seconds at a time; her eyes were weak from lack of use in the darkness, but she was paying attention and her head was held high.

It was clear there was a long way to go still, but Spyro felt a rush of warmth at knowing he had been able to help.

After a while Pleasure lay down, pushing the plate of meat away and closing her eyes. "Thanks for telling me so much Spyro…"

He smiled. "No problem. You should get some sleep."

"Cynder is really brave isn't she? I hope I get to meet her someday."

"Yes she is, and I'm sure you will." Spyro raised a paw, making it glow with heat. Pleasure sighed as the warmth radiated to her, and it was only a few minutes before she fell asleep.

Spyro finished up the rest of the water, wistfully thinking about how nice it would have been to go and get some snow for himself, but he was just as trapped here as Pleasure was, at least for now. He missed the sky already, he wanted to fly.

"Kill her."

Hope's voice hissed in his mind.

Spyro sighed wearily. "I'm not killing her."

"Do it! While she's helpless. This is our chance. You saw the vision of her killing Cynder. She's interested in Cynder, we can't let them meet."

"You're scared of the Darkmire dragon aren't you?"

Hope growled slightly. "… No."

"That's why you don't dare speak while she's awake. You know it could be what pushes Pleasure over into transforming again. She can sense when you're active."

Hope snarled in anger, but his snarl cut off suddenly as Pleasure's breathing faltered, gritting her teeth.

"Don't feel ashamed. If everytime I spoke it risked waking up her dark side I would hold my tongue too." Spyro chuckled.

"She's been imprisoned here for millennia. It's not just the vessel which is weak and insane. They both are. So much power, and she's a waste of potential. She might be more powerful than me for now, but she's really just broken and pathetic!"

"Shut up you're going to wake her up!" Spyro hissed quietly.

"You're scared too." Hope sneered.

"Of course I am. The Dark Master with fear and poison, multiplied by a million years of gathering strength, is not something I want to take any chances with."

Pleasure twitched again and Spyro froze in place, but it seemed like normal bad dreams, so he relaxed slightly.

"So kill her and be done with it. Break her skull. It'll be easy."

"No. I don't know if we'll be able to help her; but I refuse to leave her worse than I found her."

"You're going to regret this. You're going to regret everything." Hope snarled. "I'll take everything from you, and Cynder will be mine."

Spyro remained silent. There was no point in arguing. Hope would never realise why he was wrong, and Spyro would never stop fighting him and keeping him imprisoned.

"She's not Cynder. She might be black scaled, but she's not Cynder."

"I know that." Spyro growled. "I'm not trying to help her because she looks a little bit like Cynder; I'm trying to help her because I want to be kind. I'm not going to kill someone."

"You don't love Cynder."

Spyro rolled his eyes with an irritated growl. Before he could be tempted to respond there was a polite cough from the door.

Spyro jumped in surprise and turned, seeing the weary looking lightning dragon was peeking into the cell.

"Oh hey Scara, uhh, I don't know how much of that you heard…"

"I heard you talking to yourself, I heard all of it I suspect. All about not wanting to kill her."

"You didn't hear anyone replying to me?"

"No, but… I did feel something. A sense of unease each time you went quiet." Scara unlocked the door and stepped into the cell. "But I still trust you and the wards of this prison. Does she have the same thing happening where she talks to herself?"

"Well… kind of. Her dark side is powerful enough that she freezes up and it almost takes her over fully. It doesn't seem dangerous exactly, but it's disturbing."

"I really hope she's not dangerous." Scara said. "I wouldn't know what to do if she is. Would we be able to seal her back up again?"

Spyro nodded. "Most likely. The cell held her just fine until now as far as we know. I wonder how it contains fear magic…"

He looked thoughtful. Cynder was able to cast her fear through soild objects easily enough, if Darkmire could do the same thing then surely she could have killed the guards easily enough. How exactly were her powers limited?

Scara winced. "That's worrying, but this could have been a lot worse." He chuckled slightly. "I expected some roaring demon that you would have to fight."

Spyro nodded. "Yeah… that would have been much worse." He laughed, but his heart wasn't in it. He couldn't imagine an angry demon who could be more unsettling than the split natured dragoness that they had found instead.

"So… Do you need anything?" Scara asked awkwardly.

Spyro shook his head. "I think we're okay for now. More water would be good though."

Scara nodded. "Got it. I'll have some sent down. Do you mind if I lock you in again?"

Spyro was about to nod in agreement, when a worrying thought struck him. "Actually, can I be locked in the cell next door?"

"Very well. Is this to make sure your dark side doesn't… whatever?"

"Yes. Just to be cautious."

"Certainly, step through. You'll be able to talk to each other through the cell window." Scara gestured at the barred window. "And I'll let the guards know that you can be moved back into this cell as long as you're not obviously… freaky."

Spyro walked into the next cell, hearing the reassuring 'clunk' of the door locking behind him. He settled down against the far wall, the bedding in this cell was old, but good enough to sleep in. With a soft groan he closed his eyes. His dreams were filled with dark dragons and blood-soaked bones.

Cynder watched the dawn from the roof of Ember's home; wings wrapped tightly around herself to keep the cold out. A pale sunrise cut the horizon, slowly brightening the day, a few scraps of cloud were chased away, the darkness that had shrouded the entire city slowbly began to shrink into long shadows which clung to the streets and buildings.

She yawned and stretched, about to go back down to bed when a small movement caught her eye. A dragon was flying, wings beating hard as they made a direct line towards the city. She could easily tell the dragon was exhausted, their flapping wings marked the last burst of energy that they felt when they finally saw their destination was within reach.

The dragon was white scaled, and Cynder lost interest. If it wasn't Spyro, Hope or Imperia then whatever they were doing probably wasn't worth the awkwardness of going to talk to them.

She yawned again and slipped through the window back into Ember's room. The pink dragoness was snoring quietly, every few breaths she let out a little burst of flame and her tail would twitch. It was somewhat cute.

Cynder settled into the warm patch she'd left, snuggling back down onto the bed beside Ember and waiting, eyes closed and listening, as she wondered when Ember would wake up.

It was some ten minutes later that she would come to realise the dragon she'd seen had been important after all.

Cynder jumped to her feet, and Ember followed rather less gracefully, when there was a hard knock at the door.

"Cynder! Are you in there!?"

Imperia's voice called out with a mixture of urgency and excitement.

"Whaaaa…" Ember groaned sleepily.

"Yes? What is it?" Cynder called out, tugging Ember's tail with a paw when the other girl nearly fell off the bed.

"Spyro has showed up at Darkmire's Tomb!"

"What!?" Cynder yelped. She leapt into the air, and Ember did fall off the bed. Cynder hesitated for a moment, but the pink dragoness waved her away.

"I'm fine, go do your thing Cynder. And good luck."

Cynder needed no further encouragement, the door slammed open as Cynder burst out into the hallway, nearly knocking Imperia over.

"How is he? Is he okay? Who saw him? When do we leave!?"

Imperia laughed. "You know this is only the second place I looked for you. I scanned past Spyro's place first just to check, hey wait up!"

She darted after Cynder, the black scaled dragoness already skidding down the stairs and heading for the Dragon Temple.

"A drake called Petherion came from Darkmire's Tomb, he says that Spyro turned himself in there and got locked in a cell-"

Cynder dodged a squadron of moles carrying a ladder, Imperia copying the movement half a second behind her.

"-He's asked for Warfang to send dragons to help. He says he's fine."

"When do we leave?" Cynder jumped off the wall of a building, taking to the air. Imperia accelerated slightly to fly next to her.

"You and I can fly ahead. Just let us check in with the other Guardians before we do."

"Does Malefor know? We'll need his help."

"Yep. He's probably ready to leave."

Imperia and Cynder closed their wings as they dived through one of the doors, landing in a large circular chamber where Volteer, Flare, Terrador and Malefor were standing, along with a young panting ice drake. A few moments later Cyril came walking into the room.

"Ah, excellent, you're here Cynder. I know better than to ask you to stand around waiting and planning. I just urge you to be respectful, Darkmire's Tomb is not Warfang territory, it's jointly owned by both Warfang and the Ice Empire. Try not to start any wars."

"I'm going with her." Imperia said firmly.

Cyril and Flare glanced at each other, then nodded. Flare flicked her wings as she responded. "Very well. Be safe. I'll send some dragons out after you. Imperia, Cynder, Malefor; do you need anything before you go, or anything we should bring when we follow?"

"Bring my magic crafting gear, ink, liquid gold, my carving tools, the usual stuff." Imperia said. "Also bring extra food, they always need more food at Darkmire's Tomb."

"I've brought the soul crystal. I don't want us to need it, but I have it just in case." Malefor added.

"Can we go?" Cynder asked.

There was a moment's silence, then Flare nodded. "Go, and good luck."

Imperia and Malefor were not far behind her as Cynder whirled around and flew back out through the doors. After a few moments, however, Imperia sped up to take the lead.

"Quick enough for you Cynder? That was the shortest guardian meeting I've ever been to."

"That was pretty quick. I still have that sleep stuff in my eyes." Cynder nodded in agreement.

A bubble of air formed around the three of them, a strong tailwind starting to lift them higher and push them along. Imperia grinned at them both as the wind tightened around them.

"Relax, lean into the wind, and let me show you two how fast a wind dragon can go."

"H-help…"

The whisper, almost too soft to hear, finally woke Spyro from his sleep.

"Somebody… help me…"

A trembling voice, sounding utterly confused and defeated. Just like she had sounded when he had first opened her cell.

"Th-they're gone… They're gone… I thought… I don't understand…"

He jolted to his feet as he recognised Pleasure's voice. She'd woken up alone, and she thought that he had disappeared. He looked through the window between their cells, seeing the black dragoness clinging to the bars at the rear window of her cell, staring out into the darkness of the cavern.

"Where am I? Where is Spyro?" Her body went tense. "No! Nonono I didn't mean it! I'm grateful! I didn't believe that I could ever be free! I swear I didn't! I'm sorry! Help me! Please no… somebody… Petrus Blizzari Sliver Drakko Terrador Eruptodon Petrus-"

"Pleasure! It's okay, I'm here." Spyro said soothingly, seeing that the dragoness was starting to grip the bars tighter and tighter, she was losing stability.

She jumped in shock at his voice, freezing for a few moments, then fearfully turning to look at him, as if expecting to be struck at any moment for having the insolence to dare to turn around. Finally she saw his face peeking through the barred window and she slid down the wall, collapsing in a sobbing heap.

"I'm still here. Everything is okay." Spyro tried to calm her down.

Pleasure shook her head, crying in a mixture of fear and relief. "I th-thought it had all been a dream… Spyro… I thought you were gone forever…"

He continued speaking, sensing that it was having some effect. He wished he'd thought about this earlier, how much it would effect Pleasure if she woke up on her own and thought that him coming had all been a dream.

"It's okay, guards will come by soon and let me back into your cell. I just thought we would be safer if I was in a different room while I slept in case I sleepwalk. I'm still real and I'm still here. You're not alone. Everything is going to be okay."

Her breathing slowed down, growing calm, only occasional shudders and sniffles rocking her form. After several more minutes she slowly brought her paws underneath her, standing on her painfully thin legs and limping part of the way across the cell towards him. She gritted her teeth with effort.

"Y-you're right… I'm sorry… I'm not alone."

Her long claws scraped over the stone, and she lost her balance, the rest of her legs folding under her weight. She hit the ground with a grunt, but she didn't seem to notice, just looking at him.

"I need to be brave. Brave like Cynder."

"You are brave." Spyro said encouragingly. "We'll get your claws and horns trimmed and you'll be walking in no time. I'll be here for you, if I'm not in the room I'll be at this window, I promise."

"At the window." Pleasure repeated. She crawled a bit closer before laying down her head, exhausted again. After a few minutes of Spyro repeating that he was still there she started to close her eyes.

Spyro felt Hope's moods, sensing his dark side growing angrier at every mention of Cynder. In his mind Spyro started to yell at Hope, begging him not to say anything. She wasn't asleep yet.

Hope did not listen, and as he growled within Spyro's mind Pleasure's eyes snapped open again.

"You could crush her skull with earth magic from here. How dare you tell her about Cynder? How dare you-"

And then Darkmire hissed.

The torches in both cells went out with audible snapping sounds and those blazing yellow eyes floated in the shadows.

For a single moment there was stillness, then a ripple flowed through the air, the scraping sounds of sand and dust shifting. The sounds were muted, Spyro's heartbeat and breathing sounded loud in his own ears.

Spyro grunted as gravity seemed to suddenly shift, no longer pushing him down but pushing him sideways, pulling him towards Darkmire.

He tried to take a step back, but his paws were sliding across the floor.

His face was pressed up against the bars, and the harder he tried to pull away the harder he was pressed downwards. He was physically standing on the wall, all four limbs working hard to stop his chest from touching it, his tail no longer rested on the floor, it rested on the wall.

His muscles strained as he tried to pull away, the stone groaning, dust and powdered rock sliding to one side of his cell.

The smell of blood invaded the air, making it difficult to breathe, and the pressure on Spyro's back forced him to gasp for air, breathing in the overwhelming smell every time he did so.

Hope was screaming in pain, mental knives slicing through him, cutting into his identity and all of his senses; stretching him and taunting him.

Spyro felt an intense feeling of claustrophobia, something that he had never feared before; but everything was dark, his head was trapped against the bars and no matter how hard he tried to pull back it felt like there was a second wall behind him crushing him between them.

"It seeks my death, but is trapped within it's vessel. Such pain and frustration."

Hope screamed in defiance; working together with Spyro in a furious attempt to pull away from the bars of the window. Spyro could practically feel a bruise forming on his cheek from how hard he was being pressed against the middle bar.

"Rage… Hatred. It's so… delicious."

The eyes suddenly moved, and Spyro felt Darkmire's body slam against the other side of the stone wall. Something in her body broke as she did so, a rib bone, or perhaps a claw; but he couldn't think about that when her eyes were now millimetres from his.

She was so close, her breath tickling his face. They were close enough to touch, and no matter how hard he tried Spyro couldn't pull away.

Her breath stank, hot and potent, invading his personal space.

The smell was overwhelming, blood and magic and metal flooding his mind. Horrible yellow filling his vision. It made him want to scream.

The metal bars on the window started to bend inwards towards him, Darkmire's black scaled snout pushing through, the pained squeal of breaking metal and cracking rock stung his ears even as her horrible laughter stung his mind.

Her jaws opened.

Her jaws opened and a long cold tongue emerged, dragging over his face, leaving a wet trail that numbed his scales.

Her tongue slid up his snout and over his left eye, which he barely closed in time.

Darkmire purred, a sound which felt like it was going to shatter his skull, and then suddenly gravity returned to normal, and he fell to the floor.

Spyro scrambled back in absolute shock, frantically wiping his face. He didn't dare open his eye, he didn't care how scared he looked in the darkness, didn't even know if she could see him or not, clawing his way to the far side of the cell and flattening himself against the far wall.

"Mmm... How I missed the taste of anger."

The tingling was getting worse; the memory of the horrible touch of that tongue made Spyro shudder in revulsion. He wiped his face harder, spitting in his paw and desperately trying to get every bit of Darkmire's saliva off him.

It was tingling in his paw now, and he hurriedly wiped it off against the floor until the feeling had mostly faded.

She was still there, he could see the gleam of her teeth, her tongue was extended, slithering like a snake over the stone, and those slitted yellow eyes staring at him through the bars, drinking in everything she saw.

"Poor thing… I hold no ill will towards you… yet. Your only sin is failure to let me out of here. Go on, ask me a question… Spyro. I know many of the answers you seek."

The purring continued, and the pressure on the wall grew even greater, stone starting to crack slightly.

One of the metal bars screeched in protest as one side of it came loose, hanging by a thread.

Spyro didn't know if the razor wire would hold up if the wall broke, would it cut Darkmire to ribbons, or would she burst through? He didn't want to find out, so he raised his non tingling paw and poured his magic into reinforcing the wall. Her strength was incredible, enough to push right through the solid stone if she kept this up.

She seemed sickeningly happy, licking her lips as she watched him.

"Ask me something. Anything. Don't be shy."

"Why are you so cruel?" Spyro asked. It wasn't the best phrasing for the question, but he got the feeling he was under a time limit here. "Could you ever live a life without destroying things? Could Hope?"

Darkmire laughed, and the pressure against the wall lightened suddenly.

"That is what you wish me to answer? I could have told you the truth about the gods, about the world. The true nature of reality. How adorably… small… of you."

Spyro grimaced, his eye, face and paw were starting to sting. He thought his question had been a good one, even now he still wanted to save Darkmire and Hope if he could. If that made him small then he did not want to be big.

"I fear that the answer will disappoint you. Powerful though I am I cannot control my own desires, the mind wants what the mind wants; and my thoughts inevitably bend towards what you might call evil. Who is truly evil, though? The tool, or the creator? There shall be no changing my nature, not until the stars burn out and somewhere, someday, the universe begins anew… and perhaps not even then. Fear not, I won't destroy the world. That would be far too quick. I could spend the rest of time solely on the task of destroying you, and perhaps I shall."

"What creator? The ancestors? What do you mean by the universe beginning anew?"

Darkmire clicked her tongue chidingly. "Oh no no no no… You questioned, I answered. But I will tell you this for nothing: The ancestors fear me, and they are right to do so. When I am freed of this place even they shall fall before me, and the eternal suffering I inflict upon lowly dragons like yourself will be laughable compared to what I shall do to them."

The pressure faded, and Spyro heard Pleasure's body fall to the floor with a painful sounding thud. The torches flickered back on in the cells.

Spyro looked down at himself with one eye, and saw that the paw he had used to wipe his face had severe burns and melted patches of scales. She'd licked him with acidic saliva.

As he got his first proper look at the damage the pain started up, and Spyro hurriedly created blocks of ice around his paw to ease the feeling. Hesitantly he opened his other eye.

It was blurry, with a black spot in the corner of his vision that did not go away. A drop of acid must have gotten through his eyelid and touched his eye.

Spyro swore softly to himself, closing his eye again and creating more ice to ease the pain.

The feeling of coldness was a relief, something real and distracting in the world to take him away from thinking too hard about what he had just heard.

His wounds would heal themselves, even his eye would heal itself. At least… he was fairly sure they would… But the pain and the memory of that horrible disgusting lick would not easily leave him.

Suddenly his eyes widened in realisation. Pleasure! He'd heard something audibly break when she'd slammed into the wall, the lick had driven the thought out of his mind until now.

Spyro ran back to the window, wincing as he saw that the metal bars had been distinctly bent, and leaned through. From where he was he couldn't see much of her, just a crumpled set of wings and long chipped horns. She didn't seem to be conscious, but he could hear unsteady breathing.

A distant shouting reached Spyro's ears as he sat there, trying to recover.

"Spyro! What happened? Are you there!?"

He sighed, his snout was going to be sore if he shouted back, but that was no excuse. "I'm fine!" He yelled. "We're both fine! It's safe! She's unconscious!"

Scara came sprinting down the corridor at a remarkable pace for a relatively old looking dragon with only one wing. He skidded to a stop outside Spyro's cell, panting.

"What in the name of the ancestors happened here!? Spyro!? What happened to your face?"

Spyro limped forwards on three legs, keeping his wounded paw elevated. "She panicked when she woke up alone in her cell, and then my stupid dark side threatened her, so she snapped. Her dark side took over for a moment, slammed into the wall, and spat poison on my face. I'm fine, but I think she knocked herself out."

"What? We felt… Everyone in the whole mountain felt the ground tremble. The dust… it was the strangest thing I've ever seen, it all flew off the walls and started to float down here like there was a strong wind but nobody felt anything except the ground shivering."

Spyro glanced down, seeing that the piles of dust on the floor of his cell had all collected against the wall.

"I felt it. Wind magic I guess, it felt like the whole world turned sideways, I was nearly standing on the wall."

He shivered slightly, the memory of being trapped, face pushed against the bars, those yellow eyes and that cold tongue stroking over his scales. He didn't mention those details.

Scara frowned. "How sure are you about keeping her out here? This is freaking me out."

"It's freaking me out too." Spyro admitted. "But if we take proper precautions it should be okay. How many days has it been since you sent your messenger to Warfang? We need someone besides me with her so she doesn't feel alone and start to panic. Someone she can learn to trust. I wish Cynder was here."

Scara hummed. "We sent Petherion, he's our fastest flier. He'll probably be arriving soon, but I don't know how soon. I don't know if we'll have anybody volunteer, especially not after seeing what happened here. Do you need something for your face? It doesn't look like deep damage, but it looks pretty badly messed up."

"Yes, it's fine. Can you let me into her cell? I need to check if she's okay. If she gets too close to death that might activate her dark side."

Scara jumped, that possibility hadn't occurred to him, and hurriedly let Spyro out of his cell.

Both of them had to take deep breaths to calm their nerves before they opened Pleasure's cell, and Spyro nodded to give Scara permission to lock him inside.

"Are you sure you're okay Spyro? I think I can see some of your teeth even though your mouth is closed. That burn looks bad. It's right along your face."

Spyro couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "It'll heal. I'm sure Cynder will still think I'm pretty until it does."

Once Spyro had heard the reassuring thud of the door locking behind him he hurried over to Pleasure, carefully examining her body. There were definitely some cracked ribs, and it looked like she'd broken one of her fingers too. He winced in sympathy, with those huge claws of hers it would be easy for a finger to twist the wrong way.

"She's hurt, it's not life threatening but she'll probably wish she was unconscious again once she wakes. I don't think she needs medical attention, but these claws are unreasonably long. Can we figure out some way to get them trimmed? I'd also like some bandages if you have them, mostly for her paw."

"We're not really set up for this kind of thing, you know." Scara commented. "Baths, water, medical supplies. Lucky for you after I was injured I've been pretty much living in the medical supplies closet. I'll find bandages that fit, and I think we have shears which would work for the claw trimming, her claws won't look glamorous but at least she'll be able to walk properly when it's done."

"Help from Warfang will arrive soon, I'm sure of it. You've gone above and beyond your duty here. We're going to save this dragoness' life. She's given up so much to protect the world and seal her dark side here. It's dangerous to help her, but as long as you're willing to stay we can do it."

"Very well. We'll do what we can. I just hope that the Warfang dragons arrive soon."

Whew... Darkmire is intense. I loved writing this, and I hope it worked to make you feel some of what Spyro is feeling.

I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you liked or disliked.

Thanks for reading!

-4Dragons