The Mountain of Malefor, also known as the Well of Souls. Believed by many to be where the Dark Master cracked the earth and created a pit of despair with all his malice. The place where all the unruly souls would go to, and become bound to the Dark Master. Though the truth was far more complicated than that. In the time before Malefor, before the time of the dragon purge, Cornyx and many others knew it as "The Well of the Night." A great bastion of evil power and dark magic.

No one knew how it came to be, but Cronyx knew just enough thanks to the Tesseract that Malefor came to this place, sought its power, and built the mountain around it and used it to further his agenda. Ironic that it was his own prison too. Still, traces of his power lingered even here. Raw, primal, powerful magic.

There was one issue: Dark Aether. Dark magic had infused the Aether into its corrupted form, giving it the gift of death, destruction and unmaking. The Tesseract had whispered all kinds of secrets about the purple dragons, especially when they became corrupted. It made no difference to him, since dragons were naturally wicked, death bringing beasts of terror and destruction. Still, he could not deny he sensed there was a difference between Spyro and Malefor. Spyro was like a burning constellation of a thousand suns, blazing ever so brightly across the starry sea. Malefor was an endless, bottomless pit of pure evil.

On the surface level, Dark Aether appeared to be powerful because of its atomic level capability of destructiveness. It was quicker, easier, required less discipline to bask in its power, and it tainted the very nature of the soul itself. But then again, one would have had to have been a tainted soul anyways to even consider basking in these dark energies.

The truth of the matter is that Dark Aether wasn't as powerful as he was made to believe. The wellspring of power, while incredible, was very limited. And one more important aspect that the Tesseract told him: The Dark Aether will completely bar the purple dragon from using many of their natural powers. Time control being one of them.

At the very least, the Tesseract does not differentiate between natural and Dark Aether. Cronyx still had use for it. Power was power after all, no matter what vein it spawned from. Whether it was from the farthest reaches of the stars, to the deepest pits of the earth; power was universal. Here, standing at the foot of the Mountain of Malefor, the dwindling power still stirred. It was faint but it was raw.

"Gnome! Come!" the Clockwork Emperor called out.

"W-w-w-chich Gnome master Cronyx?" exclaimed a red bearded gnome worker.

Cronyx took a good look at the gnome and tilted his head to the side. It was hard to see through that helmet but there was this rather dismissive look to him. But there was also that look that said this wasn't the gnome he was looking for.

"Are you the builder of machines or are you not?"

"I… I am not my lord."

"You're not Gnamian?"

"N-no my lord."

Cronyx's voice grew more and more irritable by the second. "Then where is he!?"

The gnome flinched in response and cowered behind the nearest rock. "He-he's back in camp! H-h-h-e's been working on the clockmen! T-t-t-they're still in need of m-m-m-maintinence."

"Oh for the love of… then get me Gnamian, and tell him to finish his task later!" Cronyx turned to the other gnome. "And tell him to bring out The Advisor too. Chop chop!" he clapped his hands. "Time's a wasting. Quite literally in this case. The more time wasted, the more power we will need to fuel the great work."

"O-of course my lord! I shall g-go fetch him!"

The gnome saluted and rushed over toward a massive, mechanized crawler, having just emerged from beneath the earth. To ride this on the surface would surely be spotted by dragons. So, Cronyx had to take good care to work his way beneath the earth. At least they didn't have to thread beneath the sea floor. The true challenge was having to go beneath the earth and through the ocean just to get from one part of the world to another.

Cronyx's servant had passed through the mobilized mechanical soldiers, the Clockmen. Crafted by gnomish hands and fueled by their magic, these bipedal machines become the living mechanized fighting force in Cronyx's growing army. Day by day the numbers grew. They were all indistinguishable from one another: iron built, with a round body bearing the clockworks that made them move. A hardened glass case covered their chest, bearing the face of the clock and the hands to it. There was no head, and the only optical function they have is a golden yellow light just above the clock. Their arms were dydraulic powered, as was their legs. Both were used for greater physical force to down even a fully grown adult dragon. In addition to that, their arms were also outfitted with firearms, new inventions of war from the mainland the gnomes had crafted using gunpowder. Cronyx wanted to be prepared.

But one of the Clockmen however, was less of a mindless soldier and more of an anomaly. Gnamian, whom many of the other gnomes regarded as the foreman, was the builder of this robot. He could hardly bring himself to disassemble the machine he made. As the servant gnome approached, he heard the foreman talk to it while he was working on its chassis.

"You have to do better, you hear me? We've had a few close calls but this was a bit too close for comfort. We've already given you a new paint. Now all I have to do is finish up the changes so master Cronyx doesn't get suspicious," he said.

All the servant heard from the other machine was the click of gears and the whirrs of its engines and pistons.

"I know, I know. But at the very least, humor me. Now… with this new attachment, it's a bit more practical in close quarters. It will protect you when you've nothing else on hand. Ammo will be scarce and you will be expendable."

Gnamian was screwing in what looked to be a massive blade armament to its forearm. The hard part was rewiring most of the nerve functions to accommodate the arm.

"Now, it will take some getting used to but you'll be able to properly fight and defend yourself with this. Now… if we-"

The machine shifted its body up a bit and whirred toward the servant's direction.

"W-what? Company? It isn't master Cronyx is it?!" The foreman jumped and turned, only to see it was the nome servant sent for him. "Oh thank the heavens Gnomio. It's just you."

Fiddling his thumbs, the servant made his way over to the foreman, stuttering. "S-sorry Gnamian. B-but the uhh… b-boss called for you. I think we've a-arrived at our destination. A-and he said to take The Advisor."

The foreman frowned and turned to the machine. He reached up to tap on its arm. "Okay XN-13. I will have to go now. Please, do take care of yourself until I get back. And don't get in trouble."

The machine named XN-13 nodded and rumbled quietly. It watched the foreman pick himself up and move away from its little den. Passing through piles of scrap metal and raw iron they've procured during their travels, he made his way toward a medium sized mobile contraption. The vehicle held an ovular glass shell. Inside it was a withered looking, old, and decrepit ape suspended in a green liquid. He was hooked up to so many tubes and devices that were meant to keep him alive. A part of Gnamian wondered if the ape inside was suffering due to the amount of anthropy he was suffering from. They didn't find him in a decent enough shape to begin with either.

Gnamian got the machine moving and drove it outside of the camp to where Cronyx was.

The armored lord turned aside to look at the gnome and the ape. With a satisfied hum he marched over and kicked the machine. "Wake him up. I wish to speak to him. Now."

Gnamian jolted up from the sound of metal kicking metal and climbed up the mobile machine. To the back of the shell was the control panel used to operate the vehicle and the shell itself. After pressing a few buttons, the shell rumbled and the seemingly dead looking ape sprang to life. His eyes shot open as he looked around.

The tube hooked into his mouth served as his only means of communication. It was hooked to the machine's speaker system; it wasn't perfect in any means but it suited its purpose well.

"What… where are we…?" The ape's voice was raspy, weak and tired like. "This place… why is it so familiar…?"

Cronyx stood before the machine and faced the disorientated ape. "You're at the foot of the Mountain of Malefor. Well… what remains of the mountain in any case."

The ape peered through the glass sphere to examine the Mountain of Malefor. A soft, labored breath could be heard through the speaker system.

"Why have you brought me here, Cronyx?"

"Remember when I said you will be of use? Now's the time to show how useful you are, Advisor. We're going on a little expedition beneath the mountain and you are going to show me where exactly the Well of the Night is."

—

Sparx was resting on his lounge chair; sunglasses up, drinking a nice glass of fruit juice, and keeping an eye on Mal and Ignitus. For the most part, they have been taking care of cleaning up the plaza nicely. Fortunately for them, they got the help from Ashes, Volt, Brisk and Terra. Their parents didn't say that they couldn't help their brothers.

Of course, if their parents said no, well, they couldn't really argue with that. Then again, hindsight was 20-20.

"You're doing great, kids!" Sparx called out. "Team work makes the dream work! Just don't go trying to sneak off!"

Not like Sparx would get Mal and Ignitus in even more trouble. Same for the others for that matter. Still, a responsible uncle has to do what a responsible uncle has to do… even if he was being smug about it.

Mal looked over to where Sparx was lounging and scoffed. "He sure likes to play the role of warden, doesn't he?" With the stone bust of his dad in his claws, and Ignitus helping him on the other side, they carried the bust together to the neck of the statue.

"That's just uncle Sparx being uncle Sparx. Now can you just fill the crevice and seal it up? I won't be able to hold it long on my own."

"Just get Terra to do it!"

"She's busy fixing up the broken walls and roads."

To their side, they caught a glimpse of Terra, using the earthly energies from her breath to rebuild the ruined bricks and stone from the tower. Balancing and shaping the ruined earthwork was not an easy feat even for a quick learner like Mal. Terra was always the type to push for excellence in her abilities both physical and magical. She took many of Terrador's lessons to heart but some of which impressed the guardian of the earth himself.

It wasn't for a lack of trying either. It was more of a lack of initiative on Mal's part. Just a year after his hatching, Mal learned how to breathe fire. Then he learned how to breathe electricity, ice, and earth. His father Spyro was barely even a teenager when he learned how to use the elements.

Mudballs and dirt castles were all he ever really used with his earth abilities for. Mal didn't care about impressing his teachers. Though he couldn't help but envy Terra.

"Okay, well get Brisk and Volt to hold it up then," Mal suggested.

Ignitus shook his head. "Just hurry up Mal! By the ancestors you are impossible!"

"I'll show you impossible you hot-headed-" Mal pulled back and shot a stream of his elemental earth at the neck of the statue.

Almost immediately the damages were sealed and healed by Mal's elemental powers. The seamless process that worked almost like how the red gems healed the little cuts and scars that Ignitus and Mal always got when they had fought Ashes' bullies. The cracks and crevices closed up, and the head was now firmly in place from what it once was.

"See? There. I fixed it. You're welcome," Mal blew out a breath of hot air through his nostrils as he flew off to get the other pieces.

Ignitus just sighed as he pulled away from the statue to join his brother in picking up the remaining pieces. "Come on Mal, let's not do this anymore."

"Get off my case then."

Ignitus closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Then he exhaled. "We're not going to get anywhere if we keep arguing with each other like this. You're my brother Mal. I love you. Come on, can't we at least just not fight? We were doing so well the other night."

Mal was pushing a few pieces of a broken wing together just to get them aligned in their proper shape. But he stopped for a moment, sighed, and pulled away. He remembered that night when Ashes told him to just give dad a chance. It was hard just even to consider it. Why was it that he had to be like his father?

The teachers always told him how he was to bring about the next age. The old drakes weren't even sure of themselves because the prophecy was contradicted by his mere presence. An age had already come to the world, heralded by his father. What did he have to bring to this world? What was his purpose?

He trained hard enough that his bones cracked and his scales bled. The bed was no longer comfortable and every night he was so sore that even if he could manage to get comfortable in his bed, the pain in his body did not let him rest. He couldn't deny that his father was trying to make them take it easy on him, but what was he to do? He had a kingdom to run after all. A kingdom that had operated well enough without him whenever he was not in the councilroom.

"I just wish this week ends sooner so we can get out of Warfang," Mal then turned to look at Ignitus. "I hate having to jump through hoops for every other dragon for a birthright that I shouldn't have inherited in the first place. I just want to be a normal dragon."

"Mal, you're not…" What was there for Ignitus to say? You're just not an ordinary dragon? Or you are? Was any answer going to satisfy him?

It was the kind of dilemma that Ignitus himself never truly questioned. He wanted to be like someone he wasn't just out of sheer reverence for the dragon his dad had called mentor. But Ignitus was hardly the mentor type, unlike the dragon who carried his namesake. Yet, it was a burden Ignitus put on himself, and he never realized just how heavy of a burden Mal had to carry that he didn't even accept in the first place.

"Whether or not you're an ordinary dragon is irrelevant. You're my brother. You're our brother. We only want the best for each other. I want the best for you too. And I know dad wants the best for you. He loves you Mal, you know?" Ignitus walked over toward Mal and placed his claw on the purple dragon's shoulder.

Mal didn't really look at Ignitus. For a moment he sat there, staring at the broken stone wing. Then with his earth breath, he healed the broken parts together. "I know. I just wish I had one element and my scales weren't purple. Maybe then I'd be given an actual reason to be named Malachite. I could be like Terra."

The stone wing slowly began to lift up as Mal used his earth element to maneuver it back over to the statue. Ignitus' maw was agape as he saw his brother carry the piece of stone wing over without so much as using his claws and sealed the wing back in place.

"I didn't know you could do that Mal," Ignitus said, still astounded. "It took Terra years to get to that point! Was that the first time you used earth magnetism?"

"Yes," Mal Replied. "When I don't have the teachers on my flank, I can do so much more than what they thought I could do. I just don't like to do it. If they knew how easily it would be for me to master the elements then there'd be no end to the training. Besides, she's still better than me. Terra has techniques that surpasses raw power."

Then after a moment of examining his work, he asked; "Tell me again why it took this long to finish the statue?"

Ignitus pointed to the roads and the spots where debris once cluttered and blocked the way. "We had to make sure the moles were able to move around the area. Oh and don't forget their ruined homes took a greater priority over anything else."

"Alright then. Well… it's finished now."

Mal descended from the statue and took a good look at it alongside his brother. Slowly a small smile crept along their face. Then they looked at one another, struggling to contain their laughter.

"You know we put dad's head the wrong way, right?" Ignitus said.

They took another look at the statue. Sure enough, they had put his head on wrong. It was backwards.

"I think it's a welcoming change. He always tends to look the-"

"Mal," Ignitus gave him a pointed look. "Come on. It'll be easy with your earth element. Just twist it around and reseal it."

Mal let out a sigh as he flew back up and used his breath element to turn the head around. It didn't take too long.

"There we go. Happy?" Mal asked as he landed back beside Ignitus.

"Much better."

The two took another good look at the statue. Not a single blemish, crack or crevice was left. All the parts were back together. From the distance, they could hear Sparx call out and congratulate them on what a fine job they did.

"Now for the rest of the plaza. How much do we have to do?" Ignitus asked, looking around the plaza square.

A good deal of potholes and broken buildings still remained. The maximum days they had left to finish was two or three days tops, just before the week's end. What would Spyro have them do in the meantime? Put them in their rooms?

"About enough. Anyways, Ig, remember what we talked about yesterday?"

"You mean investigating whoever's been sneaking around the palace? Yeah I remember. Midnight right?"

Mal nodded. "Yeah. So long as mom and dad aren't up. I always hear weird noises whenever I pass by their room."

Wait, Mal's been sneaking out at night? Ignitus thought.

It was a stupid thought. He should've realized that this was par the norm. But rather than sneaking out late at night he sneaks out early in the day. Usually just so he can avoid the academy.

Rather than ask about him sneaking out at night, he asked; "What kind of noises do you hear?"

"Uhh… I don't know exactly. Bunch of grunts, snarls, and stifled roars. One time I knocked to see if they were okay and they just told me they were wrestling."

Ignitus slowly nodded his head as if he understood. "Huh… uh huh, okay. Midnight training is kind of weird but I mean… It makes sense."

"That's what I thought too, but they were quiet about it. Probably so they wouldn't wake us," Mal turned his head aside. "We should definitely try to do some wrestling ourselves. Last match I had with Terra made me nearly lose my arm."

"That's what you get for wrestling with Terra. Speaking of training… if your teachers are that bad then… maybe I should come."

"Why?"

"I want to see if they're as bad as you made em out to be."

Mal shook his head and chuckled. "Oh you're not going to like them at all.