Review Response:

To BunnyBlues: Thank you for being the first reviewer! I'm glad that you have taken an interest in my story here. First off, the Quillians are not humans. I probably should have already begun to describe what they are, I decided to save it for a reveal in a later chapter. As for why I thought that it would be something to look forward to later on. As for the occasional grammar mistake, I've tried to be more conscious of them in this chapter, but it feels like I have only made more rather than fixing them. Thanks again for the review!

Originally posted: 08/22/2019

Edited for quality of life edits on: 12/20/2019

Chapter 2: Visions

Song: Shadows – Red

suggested by BunnyBlues (SatelliteBlues now)

Not may people had resettled back on the coast of the Dragon Realms yet. There was a combination of many reasons as to why this was. The primary reason was that there was nothing left to return to after the world had been destroyed. The restoration, while good for the world as a whole, did not help here. Many coastal cities and towns ended up underwater, and villages that relied on fishing for their primary source of food and revenue had been placed inland away for the shores. In short, it was an exodus inland where food and resources were. All of the new shoreline clean and devoid of any activity. This didn't stop two adventuring dragons from reliving a life of adventure. Spyro kept his promise to Cynder that they would go looking for land. While the coast was something that both didn't have an eye for, they inevitably made the detour for the sake of adventure and sightseeing. They had been flying for a while, landing every now and then to survey an area or for necessities such as food and water, sometimes even more fun things.

As they flew, the sun began to set, the clear blue sky began to turn from its natural blue color to various warm shades of orange and red. The sun glistens off the ocean only helped to create a beautiful scene they the two lovers could enjoy. Spyro beckoned Cynder to land, with a nod from her, they both circled their way down to a clifftop where they could watch the sun slip down below the horizon. They landed smoothly on a grassy landing ten feet from the edge of the cliff. They sat down, the grass having a subtle texture that was comfortable to sit on. They watched the sunset silently, not so much as they had nothing to say, but instead, they did not know what to say. Slowly, the sun finally slipped below the horizon. The celestial moons and the stars above coming more and more into view as their light was no longer being drowned out by the sun.

"Cynder, do you think that there is more land way out there?" Spyro asked Cynder in the open ended way. He knew that the While Isle was far out there, so the possibility was defiantly there. That was not what he was trying to get at. Not just islands, but another continent.

"This world is too big of a place for this to be all that there is." She responded back softly. "I've seen many things in my days, so I'm a firm believer in that Idea."

"What all have you seen? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind now. It was during my time under Malefor's control." She still wore the silver bracers. She stared out at the ocean with an unfocused gaze, lightly rubbing the bracers on her front ankles. "I had been ordered to go to many places. There were the common places where the guardians hand been kept, obviously, but there were less common places. I do not remember that well where they are or what they were called, but I remember what they looked like. Fertile deltas, archipelagos, large canyons, the list goes on."

"You think that we might stumble across these places again?"

"It is most certainly possible, but I am unsure if I would want to stay there for long. Unlike the inhabitants of my more frequented places, I do not believe that those living there would appreciate my return, corruption, or not." Spyro understood that position. If he was in her paws, he would share the same opinion.

"I think so too."

Spyro too stared out into the horizon. It gave him time to reflect. What if he were to show up to lands that are home to his enemies, he was sure that they would not give him a warm welcome, just like those who see Cynder as an enemy. He dismissed his thoughts, wanting to cherish the small moment rather than spend it lost in thoughts. He shifted closer to Cynder, inch by inch, until right next to her. He outstretched his wing over her. She reciprocated in turn, stretching her wing under his. Together in an embrace, they watched as a sky full of stars unfold before them.

"I'm not one to go to sleep early, but I think I'll call it a day." Cynder yawned. Spyro nodded in agreement, his eyes feeling heavy.

"No objections here… Good Night, Cynder."

"Good night, Spyro." It did not take long before they both slipped into slumber. Cynder did not find her self in a dream or a nightmare, instead, in a different place altogether.

Where Cynder had found herself in what certainly felt like a dream, it looked like it too. She was lying down on the stone floor, surrounded by stone ruins of various degrees of dilapidation. The horizon gave off an ethereal feeling, with celestial bodies being able to be seen in precise detail. It was as if she had traveled to the distant place where the star resided. A slow fear began to seep into her that she might have died, and she had gone on to the next realm of existence. This fear soon subsided as a voice sounded in her mind. This startled her, this unfamiliar place, and now a mysterious voice, one that sounded familiar yet not at the same time.

"Fear not, young one. You are in no way in any danger." The voice spoke, giving off a feeling of profound wisdom and knowledge.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's the purpose of me being here?" She spoke out loud with concern. It replied back.

"I am the Chronicler, but know me by another name, but that right now does not matter, neither where you are. What matters now is what will happen soon."

"What do you mean? If you've brought me here to tell me something, just get to the point." She snapped back in a somewhat annoyed voice.

"Very well. Come, peer into the pool of visions and tell me what you see."

Cynder stood up and looked around for the pool of visions. In the ruins of this place, it took a lot longer than she would have liked to find it. When she did find it, it was in an advanced state of ruin, bringing into question its ability to hold water in it with the retaining ring containing numerous cracks. She peered down into the pool. The only thing that she could see was the bright reflection of her face. At first, no change in what she saw. Her reflection soon began to change and morph, the pool of visions bringing forth a picture. The water swirling around, colors changing, and shapes forming. All until it was finished. To put it lightly, Cynder was impressed that a simple shallow pool could do such things.

"Now, tell me what you see."

"I see..."

She described in detail what was seen. From this pool, she saw visions of a vast army marching down a road towards a dock where countless ships waited for their boarding. The details of the individual soldiers remained obscured by a lack of clarity, but what was seen, however, was the bigger picture, literally. This was clearly an army mobilizing. Although painful to recall, it brought back memories of her time as the Dark Master's general. To her benefit, it allowed her to be able to pick apart what she saw into its component bits. The infantry took up a large portion of the image. While the image depicted them in full armor and weapons bared, it was more for ceremonial purposes. Some of them armed with what she assumed were swords while others carried polearms, such as spears. Next, the cavalry behind the infantry. What animal they were mounted on was unknown to her, but that did not matter; cavalry had a nasty habit of being able to crush unsupported infantry units. These soldiers, too, had their weapons on display, a long-handled lance. Next was the artillery. Artillery in the Dark Army was a newer concept to when she was in command, but the premise was the same: to lob explosives at the enemy at a safe distance. Lastly, what could be seen, was the supporting logistical services, dozens of carts packed to the brim with supplies, presumably food and water rations for their journey. All of this gave one conclusion: a prolonged expedition.

"What you see before you is a future that will soon come to fruition. Frankly, young one, I have peered into alternate possibilities in the hopes of finding one that will avoid this, and I have found none. All I can do now is to warn those of what is to come."

"So, there is nothing that can be done to stop it?"

"I fear not. All that we can do is prepare."

Cynder was baffled. Was there really nothing that they could do? She didn't believe it, she couldn't. Her and Spyro fought and saved the world from what would have been its destruction. If they could stop the world from being destroyed, how hard could it have been to stop whatever these creatures are? She shook her head, dismissively.

"I don't believe that one bit!" Cynder yelled out angrily, "You know just as much as I do that there is nothing that we can't do. What could stop Spyro and me from going there and stopping it before it even begins?"

The voice in her mind gave an audible sigh. "Thousands of miles of ocean…"

"You're talking to a dragon who wills the wind, I'm sure that I could make it there with no problem at all." She said back indignantly.

"You genuinely plan on going there?"

"Of course, I am. The path that we are on won't change if we don't do anything to try to change it. Plus, we saved the world once, and I'd like to keep it that way" The voice didn't talk back for some time. "You might as well tell me where I can find this place because you aren't going to change my mind."

"Very well." The pool of visions shifted, the image of that army faded and in its place was a map. It showed the entirety of the realm, including landmasses that she had no previous knowledge of. The map slowly zoomed into the northern portion of the Realms, with the continent to the north remaining in view. "You are in a favorable position then." On the map, a point of blue light appeared against the sepia map. "That point on the map is where you are currently. If you wish to act, the continent to the north in the home to the army that you saw."

Given this information, Cynder was content and ready to return back to reality to face a threat before it becomes an issue for the realms as a whole. "I thank you for the information, Chronicler. I think that I'll be on my way." And like that, she began to fade from the dream world that he had made for her. As she began to awake from her sleep, the world started to fade to dark until he was no longer able to project into her dreams. Ignitus sighed. He had foreseen this. Had this been any other situation, he would have admired her willingness to fight back against an imposing threat. However, this was not a fight that she could win. The only regret that he had was that he was overcome with the inability to tell Cynder that it was him.

When Cynder awoke, she found herself several feet from Spyro. He was not one to go for sleepwalks and was a pretty sound sleeper. Another indication that something was wrong was him writhing on the ground. She began to craw over to him, allowing her to more easily understand what she initially thought was incoherent, mumbling to something different altogether. She knew what he was experiencing: a nightmare. Little to her knowledge, Spyro too got a visitor in his dreams. However, unlike the visitor in hers, someone beneficial, Spyro's, was not. And clearly, by looking at him, it was clear that whatever it was torturing him, the fear radiating out of him was hard not to notice with her powers.

All that Spyro saw was darkness, a continuous expanse of nothingness quite unending in any direction. It did not matter where he moved, it was all the same. This didn't bother him at first. In fact, it was somewhat comforting. The blackness, the quiet, the lack of any physical contact with any surface, it felt surreal. That soon changed. There was an increasingly persistent feeling that he was being watched from somewhere, and because of the darkness, he could not determine where he was being viewed from. Fear slowly began to seep into him, the intensity continuously growing.

"Spyro..." a distorted voice called out. Spyro jumped in a mix of surprise and fear. The adrenaline began to flood his system. The distorted voice sounded like that of Malefor's but different at the same time.

"Wh-who are you? Why am I here?" He called back, the fear in his voice clear to be heard.

"Don't pretend that you do not know me! You know good and well the situation that you are in." The voice snapped back aggressively. Spyro was at a loss of words. "Speechless? Let me remind you then."

The darkness flashed to a familiar sight. It was the Well of Souls the night of the Dark Master's return on the night of eternal darkness. From a different vantage point, he saw his fight with Gaul it's entirety. He couldn't watch when his darker self killed him in cold blood. He saw himself rise back to the room above, staying in the center of the beam of dark aether. At that moment, time froze, and the world faded back to black with one aspect from that event remaining: Dark Spyro and the dark aether beam. Then, Dark Spyro dropped down from the beam and glared right at him.

"Now you see it, don't you?" Dark Spyro growled. "You may think that I am a part of you, a dangerous thing that can be avoided by vigilance alone, but I can assure you are greatly mistaken!" He began to creep towards Spyro menacingly. As he got closer, a broad, unnatural grin began creeping up his face.

"Get back!" Spyro yelled, attempting to blast Dark Spyro with flames, but only managing spray embers and smoke. Dark Spyro only laughed and continued to approach him. That laugh… it was bloodcurdling.

"That tickled a bit. Let me return the favor." Dark Spyro unleashed a blast of dark aether. Unlike Spyro's attempt to blast the twisted version of himself, Dark Spyro was entirely able to perform the breath attack.

Spyro screamed in agony. When the breath attack ended, he collapsed on the nonexistent floor. He felt his blood draining from his body, and a quick assessment of his injuries revealed a rather gruesome scene. His legs were almost stripped all the way down to the bone, with bits of muscle fibers, veins, and arteries dangling; the exposed bones blackened. His underbelly was devoid of any hide, organs visibly hanging. His wing membranes had been melted, losing all tension and becoming oozy. To say the least, he was a mess. Dark Spyro stood over the mutilated body of his regular counterpart.

"You have only one option here. Surrender. Give up, Spyro, you know who is stronger here, and there is no denying it." Dark Spyro said firmly. It was hard for him to get a reply, but it came in due time.

"Wh-what is't that ou want?" Spyro's speech becoming more slurred the longer he laid on there.

"It is simple. Control. I've inhabited this body along with you ever since the night of eternal darkness. I'm tired of being second fiddle to a weakling! I've spent countless eons trapped in the fiery depths, fought countless to escape during each eclipse, and was beaten back each time. I honed my skills until I finally escaped and came to inhabit your body in the process. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Spyro could barely speak at all but managed to squeak out the last word before he was no longer able to. "Neither..."

"Have it your way then!" Dark Spyro roared. He ran his tail under Spyro's neck, the poor dragon below him knew what was about to happen. With a feral roar, he brutally slit the purple dragon's throat with his tail blade, cutting all the way and into the vertebrae. The lifeless body of the purple dragon laid before him. "You will give in, even if I have to break you."

Spyro shot up awake, screaming and flailing, breathing out a multitude of breath attacks with a high degree of intensity. Cynder, in the firing line of this tantrum, quickly scrambled away from him as he continued. It was only after exhausting his supply of mana that the breath attacks stopped and soon after the flailing. When he finished, he fell back to the ground, shaking with fear. Cynder, concerned for her lover, walked back over to him slowly to comfort him. She sat down on her haunches next to him with her wing stretched over him. He was still shaking. "Spyro, what happened? Are you alright?" Cynder asked him in a soft, hushed voice.

"I-It was..." His mind blanked momentarily. It was a hard feeling to describe to her. But for all that he knew, Cynder might have had these before and would probably have a better idea of what he was talking about. "It was me but a darker version, the one from the well of souls. He was talking nonsense, something like 'the fiery depths" and 'being second fiddle to a weakling.'"

Cynder nodded her head. "What else happened? I saw you stirring in your sleep, so there was something else that happened to you." She said.

"I couldn't stop him."

"What do you mean by that? What did he do?"

"He was belligerent with me. When he started to come towards me, I tried to breathe fire on him to stop him. It didn't work; my powers had failed me. All I was able to do was spray him with embers and smoke, all while he was fully able to hit me with a beam of dark aether. It tore right through me, and I felt every bit of it. My wings were melted, my legs reduced to bones, and my insides dangling out." Spyro began to feel the tears in his eyes forming, and the streams that they produced as they slid down his face. Spyro wasn't one from emotional vulnerability unless in dire situations. This was the second time that Cynder had even seen him like this, the first being when Ignitus died, and the second time is now. "He told me to surrender to let him take control. When I refused, he slit my throat with his tail blade. That's where the dream ended, and I woke up like I did. I'm sorry if I scared you, Cynder."

Cynder reached up with her paw and wiped away a tear-off of his cheek. Her previous experience with nightmares and subsequent dream interpretation sessions with Voltier, she had formulated a possible meaning to Spyro's experience. "Well, I believe that you are struggling with your inner demons. Think about it here for a minute. Dark Spyro comes out when you are emotionally compromised, the first time was the rage at Gaul, the second time being the grief of the loss of Ignitus. Maybe what this is trying to tell you is that your inner demons are taking hold of you more and that you need to begin dealing with them before they become an even bigger issue."

"Perhaps you are right."

"I know I'm right." She said sarcastically, followed after by a small giggle. "If it continues, we go to Voltier to get a better meaning out of it, and we can always go to the pool of visions at the temple if that doesn't help."

"It's comforting to know that you've got my back," Spyro said, smiling. "While we are on the topic, did you dream up anything?"

Cynder nodded her head, then looking northward. "It wasn't so much a dream so much as it was a message. The Chronicler was in my dreams. He warned me of what is to come." Her mind couldn't help but wander back to that dream. There was something familiar about The Chronicler this time compared to the apparition that she saw catacombs, and she couldn't quite put her paw on it.

"What is coming?" Spyro cocked his head sideways in confusion. She quickly snapped back to the topic at hand.

"I saw visions of a vast army mobilizing, boarding onto their ships for a journey across the ocean. A journey to the realms."

"What else did he tell you?"

"He said that there was nothing that we could do to stop it. That, no matter what actions we take, will not deter them. I do not believe that, though. We saved the world together against all the odds, so I don't believe that there is nothing that can be done."

"Cynder… You aren't planning what I think you are planning?"

"I'm deeply considering it. We can change the future, Spyro, why not take that chance?" She looked back at and waited for Spyro's response. It took him considerable time to think of one.

"It's just that there is no guarantee that you'd be successful. The apes of the Dark Army were easy, but there is no telling the abilities of this army that you saw." Spyro said, looking into her eyes. "And really, I don't want you to get hurt."

Cynder blushed, the redness of her cheeks showing through her black scales. "Spyro..." She said, pausing for lack of words. The two just laid there on top of the cliff for a while.

The blacksmith shop was busy and noisy in the early morning. The master smith and his apprentices had gone to work early, entirely skipping breakfast. They were paid per weapon produced, which was a great incentive for working long, hard hours. Had it not been for the strict quality standards set by the Royal Army, fly-by-night forges and blacksmith shops would have been prevalent. And cheep steal would only cause troubles on the battlefield. The master smith was lucky that he had learned from a master smith before him, and that his apprentices were eager to learn and produce various metalworks. This was their contribution to the upcoming war.

It had been noon before they had stopped from the hunger in their bellies. With their allowances, the apprentices ran off to the market square for their meals while the master smith stayed in the forge and ate the lunch that he had packed. His meal consisted of the leftovers from his dinner last night. Slow-cooked meat, somewhat fresh bread, and a mix of vegetables. To drink was an apple cider, although a kind that children could not drink. He enjoyed the lunch, although he wished that it was fresher than leftovers. As he ate, a friend of his walked into the fire-lit forge. He was a gunsmith, working on the artillery pieces for a living.

"Howdy, Derick." The gunsmith called out, waving to him.

"I'm doing fine, Kelly. Had to forgo breakfast to make ends meet." Derick continued to eat his lunch.

"I've noticed on my way home that you've been getting here earlier and leaving later each day. You might need to take a rest because if you get hurt and are unable to work, then you will sure as shit be in a bad place."

Derick swallowed the food in his mouth. "I know." He said. "I've almost got all of my debts paid off, which I am wholeheartedly thankful for. Had king Dylan not started this effort and his son Bevan followed through with it, I don't know where I would be." He sipped his cider. "How has the gunsmith gone?"

"Relatively okay. The alchemists have been a big influence in our line of work. The propellant and the metallurgy involved has definitely changed thanks to them. The industry helped with the rest. We went from muzzleloaders to breech loaders and cannonball shot to elongated and tapered projectiles with an explosive filling. We are progressing so fast to the point where large guns that we made five or so years ago are in the reserves and are teetering on the edge of obsolesce," Kelly shook his head, "It's crazy, man. The older guys don't like it. They can't adapt to the changes, so they left it up to us younger guys."

"It's kind of the same here but to a lesser extent. The alloy's that we make is getting more complicated, where the mixing and forging have to be more precise for the best quality results; otherwise, it either becomes too brittle or too malleable. The blacksmithing process remains almost the same, though."

"Then again, they aren't putting as much effort into the innovation of small arms. I ain't no military expert, but I think they believe that with enough artillery that'll kill and wound the majority of the dragons, and use the infantry the mop-up the rest with their swords and other weapons." Kelly crossed his arms. A slight scowl formed in his face. "I think that it's a crock of shit, really. But how knows, they got more experience than I do. I just make the guns."

"It ain't our job to do that kind of thinking. All that we can do is supply the highest quality weapons that we can." Derick took another bite out of his lunch.

"Well, I guess I'll get back to the workshop. We still got orders to fill, and I gotta be there to make sure that those dimwits do it right." Kelly chuckled. "I'll stop back some time or other, you keep up the good work. You hear me?"

Derick nodded as Kelly turned around left. In his place, another man walked in. It could be Immediately seen that this was a man of a different profession, mostly by the clothes that he wore. Rather than wearing clothes that any other blue-collar worker would be wearing, he was wearing a uniform. The insignia on it gave it clearly away what precisely what he was here for drafting soldiers. Derick did not know what to think of this, seeing as how he's contributing to the war efforts right here and now. Perhaps it was a mistake? The only way to tell would be to talk to the man and get the answers that he wanted.

"Hello there! What brings you here, good sir?" He said in his most polite voice, hoping that this would help break the ice a little bit easier.

"I am fine. You are the father of Lyle, yes?"

"Umm, yes. Why are you asking?"

"I'm here to serve him his papers. He has been inducted into the Royal Army."

Derick's cheeks turned red with anger. He thought that being a weapons supplier would grant him and his family immunity to any draft that they might have done. "This is madness! You know that weapons suppliers and their families are immune to drafts!" He said, very indignantly. If this was a lawless land, he would have put whatever blade he had in reach right into this man's chest and through his heart.

"What are you talking about? Your son-"

"Don't you dare convince me otherwise! You know it just as well as I do!"

"Sir, would you please listen to me," The officer said. If he could not keep his emotions in check, otherwise, he was ready to detail him until a sheriff or deputy arrived to do the rest. "Your son enlisted. You can look at the papers yourself." He handed Derick the sheaf of papers. There in front of his own eyes in block print letters, the contract was that of an enlistment rather than a draft. And to top it all off, the end of the agreement had Lyle's signature. Derick was dumbfounded.

"I-I don't believe it… He never had any interest in enlisting before… What made him change his mind?"

The officer just gave him a shrug. "I wouldn't know. I'm just here to pass on the message. Therefore, take this paper here." The officer sifted through the papers until he found the correct one. It was the confirmation letter with official stamping and sealing. "Please give this to Lyle so that he may report to Fort Ledura for his training."

"I-I-I will." He said studdering, still bewildered that his son would make that decision. Instead of leaving right then, the officer got closer and leaned to Derick's ear.

"And if you chuck that paper in one of those furnaces, don't doubt for a minute that we won't come back not only for him but we will take you and your family with him." He whispered menacingly. He didn't mean to sound so sinister, but he had to get his point across. And it's not like that they would be placed into front-line combat anyway.

"Yes, sir."

The officer left the forge and blacksmith shop, probably to deliver more confirmation letters to other families. Derick was filled with feelings that he didn't know how to quantify or explain, to the point where he was no longer hungry or thirsty. He worried most about Lyle. He wasn't going to win any strongman awards anytime soon, which would lead him on a quick path to the grave if he didn't bulk up or was placed in front. He sighed and stood where he was for some time. It wasn't until his eager apprentices ran back into the workshop that he snapped out of his trance and went back to work just like them. He did not want his son to get into harm's way

Two figures hand in hand were walking down a garden path. Along the trail, flowers of various types were planted, each one being planted in a way for their colors to complement each other. The garden itself was expansive, with adjourning paths that connect to a wood where one could stroll through. When the wind blew, their scents filled the air with a therapeutic aroma. The figures were clothed in basic, thin garments that allowed for plenty of air to flow through. And with not a cloud in sight, it would be a hot day for sure.

"Bevan, are you sure that you want to go through with this?" Said a feminine voice said worryingly. She was Lady Jadney, the wife of King Bevan and the queen of Quillum. "I can tell you are having some reservations about going through with war."

"Jadney..." He stopped and sighed. "It just weighs down on me. I'm having a lot of doubts about many things, which is making me more cautious than I need to be. Do we have enough rations, weapons, and soldiers? These are all questions that when I ask my advisors, they give me blank stares."

"I know, I know."

"The answers are crucial. If we do not have enough on any of these, then the invasion might as well be a failure. They tell me that they are working on gathering the information to formulate the answers, but they have not given me anything yet."

"Then you do not have to go through with the invasion this year. You have plenty of life to live, and so do the rest of the peoples of the kingdom."

"But will they care at that point? That is the question." Bevan stopped walking, and so did Jadney. She gave him a confused look.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's been twenty years since the Dark Army had attacked us. If we could wage war then, I can guarantee you that my father before me would have done it. But we did not have the manpower nor the resources. Here we are now, we have more resources to us and a larger population than back then, world fracturing or not. But we also have people that have moved on. The sense of vengeance today is not what it was back then, so I do not know how willing people will be to it."

"So, you are trying to exploiting people's outrage?"

"As bad as that sounds, yes, yes, I am."

"Bevan…" She shook her head. Out of all the morally gray things that he would suggest, this had to be up there with some of the worse. "I am disappointed in you, but I can also understand too."

"I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around her body in a hug. She reciprocated and wrapped hers around his. "I know I'm a disappointment, but I'm doing the best that I can." All of it brought a tear to his eyes. It might have been genuine, or pent up emotions held in for many weeks was finally being released; nobody knows. To Bevan, it felt like a stack of bricks was being lifted off of his shoulders, even if it was only temporary.

"But you know what, It is your ability to keep moving forward despite everything around you that makes me proud of you." She kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Bevan. You can be a handful sometimes." She said in a joking manner. He gave her a kiss on the cheek right back.

Before the conversation could continue, a young courier dashed across the gravel path. Both Bevan and Jadney were slightly agitated. The moment was absolutely perfect, and here it was ruined. When the courier finally arrived, he was somewhat out of breath, but you someone as young as he was, it wouldn't take him to long to recover from such a sprint. They hoped that it would be a quick message rather than a summons. He began talking right away, giving the two of them no time to free themselves from each other's embrace.

"My lord and lady… Lovebirds again, eh?" he said, slightly laughing. Both of them shot a mean look at him, which promptly ended his laughter. They loosed themselves from each other and faced the young boy, "Your advisors wanted me to relay this message to you. They have gotten the information that you requested." Both of them sat there and just stared at him.

"Well, are you gonna tell us what it is, or do they want us to be there for a meeting?" Jadney said, cutting off Bevan before he was able to say something along the same lines.

"Oh no, I can tell you right here. From all of the information gathering that has been done, there will be enough of everything. There will be enough rations, equipment, and people for the war to be waged!" He said excitedly. Well, that answers that. Bevan was bewildered that the day that he needed to vent about his worries and frustrations would be the day that he would get the answers to the questions that he was most worried about. "That is all, I'll leave you two to your own devices." He ran off just as quickly as he had arrived. Both of the royals embraced each other in a hug again, this time out of happiness rather than feeling sorry for one's self.

"Well, Jadney. I guess it is time to make preparations."

"You can make preparations later. Just enjoy the time that we have now."

A/N: Well, I'm not sure how I feel on this one. I feel like I've improved a bit, while on the same token I've worsened in certain places. All of which will eventually be worked out in due time as I gain more experience. To clear some things up ahead of time so there is no confusion. If there is a horizontal line in the story, it signifies a significant setting shift (Dragon Realms to the Kingdom of Quillum). If there is this string of characters /\/\/\, it means a slight setting change withing the significant setting change (Cynder's dream to the real world, real-world to Spyro's nightmare, et cetera). I'm going to be planning theses thing out more systematically next chapter as there is only so far I can get by only planning these in my mind. Once again, any reviews are appreciated as I continue to type these things out with what time I have available to me.

~AbyssalBlue