Reviewer Response:

To Bunnyblues: Yeah, I noticed you were a little late to review, seeing as how you have a track record of reviewing soon after a new chapter is posted. It's funny really because the chapter was mostly written save for a few parts when you posted it, so the questions you asked were answered before you asked them =P. Also, thanks for the advice on the declaration, as I will try to have it done by next chapter.

To darklighteryphon: I think that the execution of the scene with Spyro and Pyra could have gone better because all that they spoke about was all that I had planned. The reason that the whole Cynder getting drunk thing was more or less to get the story progressed. There is only so much that you can type about flying across an ocean before it gets dry. Pyra here is an OC, and not the one in the flashbacks in A New Beginning. Naming convention wise, it was an easy choice as coming up with names is something I'm terrible at.

Chapter 6: Backfire

Another night passed in the realms and all was peaceful. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and the sun was shining at a tolerable brightness. With this morning, Spyro woke up feeling relieved and relaxed. It was one of the first nights that he actually did not have a long-lasting nightmare last night. Wait… There was no nightmare? The very fact that there was not one was a tad bit more unsettling to Spyro than the actual nightmares themselves. There was also the coincidence that it had stopped the day that the chronicler relaying information through the Guardians informed him of his situation. Then again, there was no telling as to why exactly they stopped then. If he was truly rid of whatever malady that affected him, then perhaps he would have already received a message from the Chronicler by now. These were questions that needed answers to, which sadly for Spyro simply were not available yet.

He wouldn't let those burden him, at least not today anyway. This was the one time he actually felt rested, and he was going to make the most of it in the best way that he could. And that was to take a visit back to his foster parents in the swamp. It would take no time at all to get his bearings as the Silver River's headwaters were well known and all he would have to do was follow the river down until the distinctive large mushrooms that were hard to miss. If he was lucky, he might also find Sparx there too; Sparx left about a month ago back to the swamp to see them as well as to find the one for him. He knew though that he shouldn't leave without notifying anyone, but then again it would just waste what good time he had before the sun went back down. With a piece charred wood, he quickly scribbled a note onto a piece of parchment paper.

To those concerned,

I'm feeling much better today than I was in day before. For the first time in a while, I have not had any nightmares like I had before. Because of this, I'm feeling well rested and in a much better state of mind than before. I've decided that I will make the most of the day and visit the family that raised my back in the swamp downstream of the Silver River. I plan to be back before nightfall, no later than after dusk at the latest. I will see you all later tonight when I return.

With best regards,

-Spyro

With that finished, he quickly and stealthily made his way out of the temple and took flight to the place of the headwaters. Gaining altitude, he looked to the city below him. It was the thriving center of the many cultures in the dragon realms; a place for Dragons, the Moles, Cheetahs, Atlawa, and the newest arrival: canines. Most of them were former Skavengers that had quit their life of plundering and joined the rest of civilized society. While most were skeptical of their presence at first because of their past, but they quickly showed their worth. Many of them came with the skills of Woodworking, rope-making, crafting navigational aids and devices, and a few that worked on the magic-powered engines that gave their ships the power of flight. One might think at face value that because of their arrival, that flying trade ships would be common in the sky, but there was of course a problem with that. They were maintenance and damage control crewmen that took care of them rather than those that manufactured them; They could repair them an keep them running but did not know how they were exactly built.

After the arrival of the defected Skavengers, more canines began to arrive that were not affiliated with the sky pirates. Their form of society was interesting at that. The canines had a strong connection in the form of family clans that are fiercely loyal to their clan in particular, but what one might consider hostile to others. It's assumed that it's a result of more primal pack instincts. As a result of that, they are renown for their charitable and cordial behavior. When asked, they almost always respond with: "The city is our clan now. We always look after our fellow members." Their numbers are sparse, but there is always a couple that walk into the city gates every day at this point.

Spyro soared high in the air over the walls, and headed southwest. The source of Silver River was from a small mountain range where water from numerous creeks and streams coalesce into one large, singular body of water. These were old and distinctive mountains as that they had smooth, rounded peaks, and were heavily forested from the bottom all the way to the top. It was a sign of age, that the largest of stones in the elements are reduced to dirt with due time. It was not long before he found the range, and began the search for the sun shimmering on water's surface. It took some time, but the river was found and he began to fly in it's flowing direction.

He wondered how well his parents would receive him. Doing a headcount, he had been gone for roughly four or so years. Even though they knew and were supportive of him finding out who he truly was, Spyro knew that they would and have missed him since he left, therefor they might be elated to see him. It wasn't long before the trees of the forest began to give way slowly to the large, distinctive mushrooms that he lived among for all of his childhood. The further that he flew, the more the air began to smell and taste foul. Mushrooms were after all a fungus that spread pores, which being exposed to them in his youthful years gave him a sort of immunity to their smell and taste. Before too long, reduced altitude and speed, and scanned the riverbanks to find that distinctive spot that he called home.

As he got close, there were places that were familiar to him: the swimming hole that he learned to swim in, the tiny islands in the stream that they had tried to build a fort on with rocks they dredged up, and a cave that both of them were too scared to explore but worked up the courage to do so. It brought a tears to his eyes as the nostalgia filled him. The nostalgia would be quickly broken as the faint but distinctive whiff of smoke began to fill the air. Almost by nature, he followed the scent back to the source, and found a depressing sight. The sight and home of his childhood had been used as a campsite for some wayward traveler. The tree that his foster parents had used was reduced to a pile of ash in a circle of stones, and the home that Flash and Nina had build was seen off to the side smashed to bits with a puddle of ooze under it all. At that point, there was no need to investigate further to know what had happened. He went to look anyway to see the extent.

Sifting through the debris, his suspicions were confirmed when he got to the bottom.

"O-o-oh no..." His voice faltered. There was no words that he could say that could change anything or make things better. A storm of emotions began to whirl within the purple dragon: anger, fear, sadness, … and rage. Deep in his mind, he felt a presence creep closer and closer to prominence. The presence grew stronger and stronger he looked at the scene before him. There was a strange feeling associated with it, encouraging Spyro to act on the emotion, to give into the near-boiling rage, to relinquish control. It was a very familiar feeling that he had only experienced twice, and with his recent series of resting experiences, he was very quick to act. He left in a quick haste, faster than he had taken off before. As he flew away, the presence began fade away slowly until it was no longer present.

Here he had though that with the lack of crippling nightmares the nights previous would make his day better, but now there was another thing that he had to mentally compensate for. It would be rough, but the process of dealing with grief was a universal thing that everyone had to go through, and this time was no different than it was when Ignitus sacrificed himself for them to get through the Belt of Fire. The only thing that he could do now was return back to Warfang. As for what he would do, he was not all that sure. If Cynder was here, then he could have someone to help deal with that grief.

Cynder… she was still gone on that journey of hers. That was another thing that he began to fret over. How was she doing? Did she make it by now? What even was the species that lived where she was going? It was more questions that needed to be answered. He hoped for the best, but the chances of something going bad were quite large. If her visions that she had received were that of the future, then of course they would be hostile. It was a matter of how aggressive that they were that was the biggest deciding matter when it comes to her treatment if the had captured her.

Spyro reassured himself that Cynder was very capable of fending for herself, and that there even if they attempted to capture her, it would be easy for her to slip away. If push came to shove, it was easy for her to fight off a small army if she had to. Little did he know, it wasn't that hard for them to do so.

/\/\/\

Ignitus groaned as he got off the stony floor, his joints popping as he did so. He had been browsing through all of the books that he could to get any information that could both help him and help Spyro from whatever was affecting him. More than that, he also now had to worry about the state of Cynder since she had left for that far off continent rather than heed his warnings. It was mentally taxing for an entity who was supposed to have the mental capacity for a job like this. There was a stack of almost impossibly large books in his vicinity that he had to take the arduous task of reading though to find the information that he needed; It would have helped had the old Chronicler gave him some training before handing over the reins, as that would have made his job a lot easier.

He eyed the stack and sighed. He would wait before he did the crawling through it, instead taking the time to see if anything had changed with Spyro and what the condition of Cynder was. He stepped lazily to the pool of visions and peered into it. If there was one benefit that becoming the Chronicler did for him, it was that he could see visions much faster and clearer than before. He first focused on Spyro, which showed nothingness as it had before. Ignitus shook his head in frustration. Next he focused on Cynder, and this time got some results. He saw the vision of her flying in the night, landing on the island, and drinking her fill of strong liquor. He didn't know if he should laugh at the prospect of Cynder being drunk or worried that she then took off not too long after she had finished downing two bottles of it.

He was most perplexed by the entities that had appeared before her and teleported her to solid land. It would have to be another topic of investigation that he would have to go through. He thanked the ancestors that she had made it safely, but cursed as he saw the hazy outline of the figures that had been he had shown her before. "Just wonderful," He said out loud with even more frustration. "Now the two most powerful dragons we have are both compromised." He had warned her not to go to the far-off land, and she had gone anyway. The implication that this had on the future could be immense, and Ignitus sought to look into the future to see what is to come with the future being changed by the series of event. He peered back down into the Pool of Visions, and waited for the glimpses to manifest in the waters.

He began to see visions, more than he ever had before when doing this. One by one, a new picture appeared before him, leading him into a sort-of trance-like state of mind as he pondered over the images before him. He was unable to look away as perpetually more disturbing images began to violate his eyes. He had seen many bad things fighting the Dark Army in the Dragon Realms, but these things were downright horrid. It wasn't until one of the static images jumped out at him that the trance was broken. The fear on his face was more than enough for anyone to tell that he had seen things that he had rather not have seen.

Long before the sun had risen, the barracks in Fort Ledura had already been awoken hours before. Lyle had finally gotten adjusted to his new sleeping schedule and was quickly climbing the ranks as a great mounted lancer along with showing the fledgling signs of being a great leader. He was thankful for his position, as that would keep him away from direct fighting as they would be the flankers that would get in behind enemy lines and do as much damage as they possibly could before retreating as to avoid direct conflict. If anything, they were more skirmishers than they were the cavalry that was expected to punch through enemy lines.

They had completed their rounds and were returning their mounts to stables where they would be later fed and watered. The observers on the walls of the fort proper were pleased with that they saw, especially the VIP of the observers, a Field Martial viewing the proficiency the forces under his command. For this general, he had to be sure that this army could stand against the might of the dragons. Viewing Lyle's cavalry unit was giving him some reassurance that it could be done with the way that they operated and preformed. He smiled down at him from a distance. He didn't need to ask for approval as his rung on the leadership ladder was high enough to dwarf all of those at the fort, he was courteous enough to ask to go see the aspiring lancer. He was given immediate approval, but was not sure if they did it in fear of a court martial or they were supportive of him doing so.

It was a lengthy walk through the forts seemingly maze-like series of corridors and rooms. He eventually made it to the stables where he found the young Quillian without trouble. Lyle had finished up tethering his mount and was about to get the hay from hayloft, the Field Martial stopped him in his tracks.

"Lyle Arren, I'm Field Martial O'Brian. I have seen how well you and the rest of your unit has preformed out there, care to tell me more about it?" O'Brian said. He was better at leading troops than he was at being social.

"Yes, sir. We are a cavalry unit that has specialized with flanking and skirmishing behind enemy lines."

In a bid to test the Quillian's knowledge, he continued to probe for information even though he already knew all of the answers. "What is the purpose of skirmishing behind the enemy lines?"

"Sir, it is to disrupt their logistical capabilities. Burned food stores and spilled water leaves less for the enemy combatants. We might also come across their command posts, which are better off destroyed than left standing."

"What if you come across an infirmary?"

"We take them prisoner and continue treatment and ransom them back to help fund out efforts."

"No."

"Sir?" Lyle was confused at this revaluation. Had the training books been wrong in what they were supposed to do? "The book says to do what I had just described."

"I'm telling you as your field martial that the book for this was is wrong. If you come across an infirmary, you put all of them down and burn the rest."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Permission granted."

"That's a dumbass decision. That will only prompt the enemy to use more savage tactics and treat our wooded the same way. We are fighting dragons, a healed soldier is better than a dead one."

O'Brian was beginning to like this kid. He had the balls to actually low-key insult the person in the highest military position. But what he said was true, and O'Brian had heard exactly what he was listening for. "You're smart, kid. You've given me some confidence in this army." He outstretched his hand. Lyle didn't hesitate the offer. "I think that you progress deserves a little reward. What would you like?"

Lyle was surprised that he had already been offered a reward. He wasn't going to turn it down, but wasn't going to go overboard with it. "two days of leave; I wish to pay my mother and father a visit, but the journey is quite lengthy from here to Mystic Springs."

"Done."

"Re-really?"

"Yes. Now go."

"Can we go inform the Brigadier General of my departure before I leave. A court martial is still a court martial even if I'm found innocent."

"I will go inform him right now, you better start making tacks. You got a long way to go."

"Yes sir."

Both O'Brain and Lyle walked out of the stables and back to the fort. In the case of O'Brian, he made his way to the office of the Brigadier General that was in charge of the cavalry regiment. For Lyle, he made his way to pack his things at the living quarters. By the time Lyle had his things packed, a soldier walked in and greeted him. He had been sent to escort him off the base as to prevent the guard patrol from thinking that we was trying to sneak off of the fort. Rather than having to take the long way home on foot, Lyle had gotten the bright idea of using his warhorse to take him home much quicker. The guard was at first replenishment, fearing that he would be punished for not stopping him. Lyle quickly saddled the horse and mounted it swiftly. The guard shook his head in disappointment, but walked by his side as he casually walked off the fort with a very expensive animal.

The brigadier general and Field Martial O'Brian were both able to see Lyle leaving on the warhorse. The general was livid that he had the gumption to take it off base property knowing that the horse was not his property. O'Brian only laughed at the sight. He quickly put down any chance that the general had of going after Lyle, deeming it okay for him to do so, citing that it would only improve the bond between rider and horse. The expression on the general's face was priceless.

/\/\/\

Cynder blinked her eyes as she awoke to a harsh light shining through a small window while her her head pounded with every heartbeat. A wave of nausea permeated her being, with the residual taste of vomit on her tongue. She knew, as hard as it was to think of anything at the given moment, that she had made a very bad decision when it came to drinking what was in those bottles. And on the topic of remembering things, she found it very difficult to remember much of what happened after she had left the island that she had landed on two nights previous. Little did she know, but that would have been her first and probably last time drinking any alcoholic beverage.

First thing's first was to assess her surroundings, which was clearly not some palm tree covered island or sandy beach that offered a welcome to any wayward traveler. What she was met with was stony walls and thick metal bars. Not good. It was evident that she was thrown into some kind of jail cell. Well, that was no problem to get out of really, especially since there was nothing that was magically bounding her to one place or person like the Green Snake necklace did. In fact, there was no sort of restraining equipment attached to her at all. Things were slowly looking better for her situation, but the bodily effects that the alcohol she drank were still strong, and made it difficult for her to concentrate enough to melt into shadow and slip away.

And another thing: where even was she? Sure, she was in a jail cell but where exactly was the jail cell? It was this realization that enlightened her to the greater circumstances. She had made it! Problem was that it appears that they already didn't take too well to that. While it was still hard to concentrate, it was time to be formulating her next plan. She had arrived, but now who does she go to in order to try some form of negotiation? The best plan of action was to start her way at the bottom and work her way up the chain of command until she reached the highest authority in this land.

It was a good start to the plan, now she had figure out the best way to go about the negotiation. She saw that massive army in the pool of visions, so it was clear for the get-go that they were serious when it came to their planned invasion. How do you convince an army that large to demobilize after spending that much time doing so? It was a hard task to do, especially since those actions carried a lot of momentum when it came to military maneuvers. Of course doing it in such a way that would lead to no bloodshed was the much more preferred option, but if push came to shove, she way ready to fight this army just like her and Spyro fought the Dark Army to great success. Everything was coming together nicely.

That all got interrupted when she heard footsteps approaching. Auditory clues provide a lot of information, and she could tell by the sound pace of the approaching thing that it was bipedal and was likely wearing some kind of footwear. She sat up from her sprawled out position and faced the metal door on the other side of the bars that separated her from the rest of the building. The figure in question stopped and looked through a vision port through on the metal door on the other side, in which the creature ran quickly back down the hall only to return with more creatures. Cynder tensed up as there was no telling what these creatures would do to her. While not in the best of shape for it, she was ready to fight her way out of here if things went south. On the other side of the door, the faint sound of mechanical movement was heard, and the sound of the door squeaking open echoed throughout the small cell, hurting her ears in the process. There in front of her was the silhouette creatures in question, which was hard to see in the bright light with her eyes being overly sensitive to light at the moment. It slowly walked forward further into the cell, and all of the details came to light.

The creature was like a cheetah, but instead of a mammal, it was avian. It was a bird, standing upright and tall. It's hands were covered in yellow avian scales with shortened, well kept talons at the end. A pair of wings were neatly tucked in and flush with it's back with reddish-brown feathers. The beak was a dark gray, almost black at the tip, with it fading to pale yellow when nearing its' face. It's eyes were a deep golden color which along with the general look of its' face gave it a very intense, almost intimidating look. Cynder had many question to ask, just like the creature on the other side of the bars.

"Bore da, draig. Sut dych chi?" The bird asked her. The confused look on Cynder's face only proved that the dragons did not speak the same language as the Quillians. Bradan was expecting that to happen. Thousands of miles of separation and linguistic development would naturally give rise to the languages that they spoke.

'Time to work the magic' Bradan thought to himself. Unlike manipulating objects, there was no visible aura that was visible from his forearms. Instead, his irises changed from their deep golden color to the sea-green color. He stared deep into Cynder's Emerald green eyes. Bradan pupals expanded greatly for a moment, then shrunk down to their original size. His irises also returned back to their original color.

"Your language is certainly interesting." He said. Cynder's confused expression quickly changed to that of astonishment. It only took him ten seconds for him to learn her language. Although he wasn't the best at it, as there was a noticeable accent to it.

"Yo-you can speak my language?"

"How marvelous is that? That we both can communicate now despite thousands of miles of separation. Truly remarkable." If Volteer ever had an estranged relative, this had to be it. He was seriously giving off the same vibes as the yellow dragon back home.

"Umm, I guess." She said flatly, show no interest other than the initial that she had already experienced. "Where arm I? Who are you? And what are you?" She asked in a rapid fire succession.

"Well, miss dragon," the creature said, "you are currently held up in a jail cell since these buffoons couldn't find any better arrangements. But I know what answers that you are looking for. This is the continent of Treablesh, and you are in the Kingdom of Quillum. As for what I am, I am a Quillian, but demonyms aside, I am a Buteo."

"Buteo… well that's certainly a name… What's yours?"

"Bradan Llewellyn. You?

"Cynder"

"Nice to meet you, Cynder. I know the circumstances are not the greatest here, but it will have to do for now until better arrangements can be made. Can I get you anything?" Bradan was doing the best he could to be as nice a possible despite the situation that the dragon was in was more than enough for her to be angry, possibly to the point of aggression.

"Something to get rid of this headache and some water would be nice." Cynder said back to him. Although the number one thing that she wanted was to get out the cell; cooperation was probably going to make things a lot easier for her in the long run for the both of them. Bradan nodded and left the cell, closing the door behind him as he left.

This was a lot of new information to process. For starters, it seemed that this species was going to be a lot more intelligent than any of the other species encountered before. While not all that physically intimidating, their intelligence made up for what they were lacking. If that was the case, then maybe if she had stayed in the Dragon Realms and waited for their army to show up would have ended the conflict sooner, taking advantage of that physical inferiority. But it was the intelligence part of it that had her thinking the most. Apes were incompetent because they couldn't tell apart their arse from a hole in the ground, and generally were not all that organized. Instead they relied on physical strength for that. Buteos by the looks of thing had much better organization with tactical and strategic thinking.

She sat in the cell alone for a while, until the metal door once again opened. Bradan had returned with large bowl of water and various plants and herbs. Rather than give the water to her right away, he had begun to work his magical abilities and put is profession to work. The room was filled with a sea-green glow as a magical aura swirled around his forearm. From Cynder's point of view, it might as well had looked like the plants were turning to dust as the water slowly turned to a shade of transparent green. When Bradan was finished, the aura around his arm dissipated and all of the plants that he had brought in were completely gone. At the bottom of the bars was a slot for passing a food and beverage tray under to the inmate, which he used to slide the bowl into Cynder's cell.

"I've infused the medicinal ingredients from the plants into the water. It will help you faster and more efficiently than ingestion alone." Bradan smiled at her. Cynder was less than reluctant to try it. Using her powers over poison, she dipped a claw into the water to detect the presence of any sort of toxin. She was surprised when there was none to be found. The bird was being honest. She was still hesitant, but a quick taste of the water given turned her from hesitant to indulgent. It tasted delicious despite all of the medicine in it. Perhaps this wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Cynder quickly drank through the all of the water and pushed the bowl aside. Bradan couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "Thirsty, I see. No wonder they found you drunk in the woods." In response to that, Cynder shot him an evil eye, which he did not seem to be phased at in the slightest. "I'm sure that you probably have many more questions, just as I do." They were both in agreement on something

Bradan had used his influence to make things a little more easy for the young dragon. A large cushion was the biggest thing, which made the whole situation feel awkward as Cynder was being well catered to while still being in a jail cell. It was when they were both sitting, Bradan in a chair brought in and Cynder on a large cushion that they began to ask more in-depth and questions.

"I have to ask, how did you get magical abilities, Bradan? I have only seen dragons capable of such things."

Bradan had to think this one out carefully. It was fine if he talked about just the Dark Army, but if he told her about the dragons that the Dark Army brought with them as well as the one that he had killed, that might be more than enough to end the cooperation that up to now was going so well. But there was no easy way to work around that story. He had to be truthful to her about it.

"It's a long story."

He laid it all out before he. The time of peace, the Invasion of the Dark Army, how they almost won, and the flight of the dragons. Cynder was most skeptical at this part, since her knowledge of it was that she was the only dragon aside from the head honcho himself. He continued on by telling a vague story of the way they manipulated the green gems, and how they began to turn the tide of battle once again, making sure to omit the part where he clipped a dragon's wing off. He told of the final victory, and hinted that there was continued hostilities that the Quillians had was against not the dark army, but the dragons that it deployed.

"I don't recall there ever being more than one dragon in the Dark Army's ranks and certainly not thirty." Cynder said in a very skeptical manner. Out of all the people to know about the Dark Army, it would be her.

"There was that many, I can tell you that right now."

"I know for a fact that there was only one."

"Okay then, how do you know? Because I can go gather history books from across the kingdom and they will corroborate the same story." Just as Bradan had been reluctant to tell Cynder his backstory, she was equally reluctant to tell him hers.

"It's because, well…" Cynder hung her head low. "I was forced to be a general in the dark army."

Bradan didn't know how to exactly react to that. On one hand, those soldier instincts wanted to strike her down right then and there, but his logical alchemist side was highly skeptical of those claims. "But you don't hardly look like you are old enough for that at all. And certainly not for when we had out problems with the Dark Army."

"It's a very long story which I don't want to go into details now, but basically my egg was stolen before I was even born, and they corrupted me not too long after I hatched. The corruption made me older, a much more sinister form of what I am now. I was an adult for much of my life before now. When the corruption was dispelled, I became young again, to what age I was actually supposed to be instead of what I was put at." her response was intriguing, but prompted a question that he knew wouldn't be the best question to ask.

"So, how old are you then?" He was correct about his assumption. Cynder was taken aback by the question. Perhaps there were thing that transcended cultural boundaries. "I'm asking for the record."

"Eighteen." that was simple enough. Assuming that she had been hatched for a few months to allow for developmental time before her aforementioned corruption, then that would defiantly put her younger than the Dark Army's invasion by a little over two years, which gave a big gap in the information. Perhaps she was the proverbial 'last of her kind.'

"Thirty-four" he said back. "So, why did you come here?"

Cynder faced a dilemma. She could lie about it to give herself an advantage, but if exposed would set her back significantly. Like Bradan had done, she would go about it in a more indirect way. "I am here to negotiate." That was a little to vague for what she was going for.

"Negotiate what exactly? We aren't exactly in the best place for anything to do with where you came from." That statement being ironic considering that they were preparing an invasion and if Bradan was correct, the formalities of declaring it had already gone on yesterday.

"I'm here to prevent conflict." She said flatly. "I have reason to believe that you're not quite letting on as much as you actually know." Clever girl.

"Touché, Cynder. As have I." Bradan began pacing back and forth around the cell, giving off a very uncomfortable feeling. "Yes, there is much more that I've yet to let on because frankly if I told you outright, there would be not telling the consequences. If you'd rather stay in blissful ignorance, then tell me now before I ruin it for you."

Cynder sat there without changing her expression or saying a word. Fine by Bradan. "Dragons have caused us much grief throughout the centuries. First when Malefor collapsed the kingdom with his rampage all those years ago and the following dark ages." Cynder was astonished once again. They knew of Malefor's existence, and from long ago at that. "We rise back out of the ashes, restoring what was once lost, only to face down the Dark Army and its' vile dragons that are responsible for the deaths of tens, if not hundreds of thousand of innocent Quillians. To be quite frank with you, we are a little more than pissed off and intend fully to avenge all of those who have died. Not only that, but we are certain that you dragons are responsible for the world's fracturing, which had killed even more of or kind" Bradan was taking on a more antagonistic attitude that even was a shock to him.

"But the actions of Malefor and the Dark Army does not represent the nature of dragons as a whole, nor did the world breaking apart has anything to do with us!" She yelled back at him. "And for your information, it was dragons that put the world back together." Just like hers, his expression wasn't changing any. He was completely unfazed by her attempt to shift their blame away. A feeling of sudden helplessness washed over Cynder. "You've been preparing for war all this time, haven't you?"

"Yes, little dragon, we have. We have been preparing for this day ever since the last of the Dark Army's soldiers drown in the ocean and before you were even born."

"Why though? Why go through with this senseless vendetta? You will accomplish nothing from this!"

"As I've said, we intend to avenge our kingdom's fallen. All of them: The young and the old, the low and the high, those that could fight and those that could not. All of them had been slain by your kind in one way or another. And frankly we want to show that not every species is going to stand by and take it up the ass while your species sit on your high throne as the perceived masters of the world just because you walk on four legs, have scales, and shoot magic out of your face."

"You know that you are not going to win this war that you are wanting to fight? It's not worth your time an effort to try and live up to some vague notion that you are going to avenge those that have die!"

"Then why did you come here to try to stop it?"

Cynder stopped dead in her tracks. She took the time to do some reflecting, and the realization of what had just happened. He had played her, and played her good at that. She recalled the message from the Chronicler, how it was best for her and the rest to prepare for the invasion rather than try to go and defuse the situation or tackle it head on. The Chronicler knew but she though that she knew better. The message in the dreams that she had weren't and invitation for her to change the future or for her to prevent the invasion all, it was meant to be a warning that it was inevitable, that there was no stopping it from happening.

With that realization, she silently slumped down onto the rest of the cushion, completely in shock at the realization she had come to. The journey that she had undertaken was all for nothing. Bradan simply walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, two guards, locking it as he left. It was now a matter of time before the arrangements could be made that would contain her better than what it was currently. Bradan knew that she was more than capable of getting out, at it was a matter of time before Cynder did so.

There was nothing but a dark, endless advance of space in any direction. The only sort of illumination was the same as it had first appeared: the beam of dark aether, just as it appeared in the first dream. The figure sat on it's haunches, distantly groveling. The figure was Dark Spyro. He sat there, blank white eyes staring off into the never-ending expanse that was whatever space that he inhabited. He let out an elongated sigh. He began talking to himself.

"I was close today, but that weakling was not compromised enough for my influence to gain significant control..." Dark Spyro said in a voice that was distinctive, not a distortion of Spyro's, but something much more different. It was deeper, and sent waves of sinister energy as it somehow reverberated in the empty space. "But, I can use the death of those insects he called parents as a way to break him further." He continued to sit there before opening his maw once again.

"Those sons of bitches are onto me, though. I can't have them discover me now, or otherwise millennia will have been wasted. I've done a damn good job blocking that nosy-ass Chronicler, but I have to give it to him that using the Guardians as an information relay was very crafty, very crafty indeed."

Not as much as last time, but still a great addition. Also, the appearance of the Quillians has been revealed and Sol1234 was correct in his assumption. Fun fact actually, the name "Buteo" is a the Latin name of the Hawk family of birds. Also, and I've realized this from the start, there was many opportunities that they could simply fly instead of traveling around on foot. That was completely on me as I wanted it to be vague and have people guessing on what they are rather than reveal it in all but name. There is also an anatomical mistake I made earlier on, which I'm not looking forward on coming up with a way to explain it and it somewhat make sense because I wanted a sort of big reveal.

On a side note, I made a discord server for my account. There, y'all can give ideas and discuss the story (and future ones when I get there) or just a place that I can chill with my audience. I'll have the invite code in my bio for anyone interested in it, though I doubt that there will be many people that do it.

-AbyssalBlue