Reviewer Response:
To BunnyBlues: Maybe, maybe not. If you want to believe Pullen's lore, then general Pyra died after a battle in the realms (I think). I kind of like the lore implications of that though so I'm considering.
To sol1234: I'll give it a read when I can
To Darklighteryphon: They were killed off because I really couldn't implement Sparx into the story. I thought of a way to write him off and having him killed with Flash and Nina seemed to be the most logical way to have it done. Something came by and POOF, they're dead. According to lore, the apes artificially harness the power of the gems; The Quillians can directly harness the power of them. In-game, the only ape we see using magic is Gaul (at least as much in-game cutscene footage as I went back and looked through). If it helps you visualize the Quillians, yes, they look kind-of like jet-vac.
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Because I can put links into the chapters, you'll have to copy and paste this into the "Enter an Invite" box when you click on "Join a Server" icon.
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Chapter 7: Folly
Song: What's left of the Flag – Flogging Molly
In Forum, April 17th, 1998
The decision of the Second Kingdom of Quillum and the House of Raemes.
In time, it has been the habit of those who have been wronged by other entities to come to blows against such entities. In the light and aftermath of grievous actions of the species known as "Dragons," We find ourselves in a position where the threshold has been crossed, and that the only course of action that We can take is that of retaliation. While we did not anticipate such actions would be necessary, now has become evident through past transgressions that this is an unavoidable course It is in this document that we list our grievances and our decision regarding the subject matter
I) It was the dragon Malefor that caused the collapse of the First Kingdom of Quillum via an utter and blatant act regicide and subsequent murder of the royal house; the rampage that Malefor went on before reaching Castletown and the palace destabilizing the kingdom.
II) The subsequent dark ages on Traeblesh brought with it centuries of conflict between the surviving elements of the First Kingdom of Quillum which fought for control. Dragons being directly responsible for such a dark age, as well as the deaths and suffering it caused.
III)The Dark army's invasion and use of dragons as "super weapons" in their endeavor of conquest twenty years ago. These dragons showed no hesitation and committed violent atrocities, resulting in the deaths of over ten-thousand soldiers and over fifty-thousand innocent civilians.
IV) Through the observation of a dedicated team of alchemists and practitioners of magic that the cause of the world's fracturing could have only been caused by a species capable of great magical power, as evident by a massive surge of ambient magical energy. As there has been no other recorded species other than Dragons and Buteos that can perform magic, it can only be reasoned that dragons are the cause of the fracturing event
V) While on the other side of the same coin, it is very likely that dragons were the ones that restored the world, it cannot be denied that the imperfect restorations resulted in added property damage and more subsequent injuries.
It is with these grievances in mind that We have gathered in Forum on this day, and have come to the conclusion on the course of action that We will be taking. Effective immediately, mobilization of the Royal Army of Quillum shall begin in all aspects.
The Second Kingdom of Quillum hereby declares war on the Dragon Realms.
Signed,
Bevan Canary Raemes, King of The Second of Kingdom of Quillum
Jadney Kathmille Raemes, Queen of The Second Kingdom of Quillum
Parker O'Brian, Field Martial of the Royal Army of Quillum
As promised, the declaration of war. It's not the best that it could be, I feel like keeping it short and sweet does a better job than long and rambling. Also, I did a small addition of adding Jadney's and O'Brian's signature to the document too. One, because I feel like she had every right to do so and deserved to, which would have made it more impactful for Bevan. Two, it's also a mobilization order, and since O'Brian is the Field Martial, I fell like he would need to approve of the mobilization. With that out of the way, let's get to this chapter.
Formatting notes: Because the Quillians do not speak English, to differentiate their dialogue when dragons are present in the story, brackets will appear around their dialogue. ["This right here is the perfect example."] If they are speaking English, then no brackets will appear. If there is no dragon around and they have dialogue, normal quotation marks will appear as well.
Spyro flew lazily through the air as he made his way back to Warfang. He was in no rush to get back there, on top of the fact that he was in no mood either. He cursed. "To think that the one day that I find some peace is also the day that those that I hold close were murdered. May the Ancestors damn those responsible!" he shouted out. There was no reply. In the grief of it all, he recalled all the times that he had Flash and Nina, as well as Sparx. His mind couldn't help but gravitate towards the memories that he made with Sparx. To think, had they not been playing hide and seek that day, he might have never gone on this amazing journey.
All of his memories flashed before his eyes of the two of them together. The day that the left the swamp and found the Ignitus. The inhospitable planes of Dante's Freezer and caves of the Munitions Forge. The lush fields of Tall Planes and the almost ethereal Concurrent Skies. That was just the beginning. The time that went looking after Cynder when she left the temple that fateful night before the Night of Eternal Darkness. Even after all of that, there was also the events leading up to their fight against Malefor. He was there by his side for the majority of the journey. It was more than enough to bring tears to his eyes. The strongest dragon in the world was reduced to an emotional mess.
He wouldn't believe it, he couldn't believe it. It was understandable that they might have chopped down the tree for firewood had they not been there ward off whoever did it, but they had. Who in their right mind would just casually murder three innocent dragonflies? All of this was filling the dragon with anger and hatred to whoever did the appalling action. The swamps were a place that most other species avoided inhabiting – disease, stagnant water, and a ton of mosquitoes are not a thing that screams "Come live here!" Doing a head check, none of the species that he has ever encountered would travel through the swamps, save for the apes because the old dragon temple became their base of operation in the swamp. There was one thought that he assumed would go through the swamp if it meant achieving their goals, and it was that of the invading creatures that Cynder kept talking about and went off to try to stop the invasion for happening. Had they already arrived in the realms and were planing their movements through the swamp?
He did not know and probably did not want to know. All he wanted to do was get away as far as he could from the swamp to ease the pain. Yes, it was running away from it, but now was not the time to linger around the death of those that he loved, especially when he knew that Dark Spyro was trying his all to be let out. Spyro would not let that happen, not now, not ever. He continued his flight until the large mushrooms one by one gave way to normal trees, and the smell of fungal spores no longer saturated the air. The further away from the swamp he flew, the more and more he began to accept the fact that his family had been killed, but denial and anger was the first of a long, sometimes recursive process.
As the forested planes gave way to rolling hill, and eventually mountains, he shifted gears a bit. Instead of his low and slow flight that he had carried on ever since he left the swamp, he adjusted his speed and altitude to that of high and fast. He wanted to get back to Warfang quickly without anyone from the planes outside the city or anyone inside to see him. Being the savior of the world was great and all, but that meant sacrificing something in the progress: your time and space. He was lucky that nobody had seen him leave the city or were not bothered enough to fly after him. He would make sure that it was the same when he arrived at the landing at the temple.
A partially cloudy day was great for that. He hid away in the clouds so that none could see him, at least not without some form of assistance. Getting over the city was the easy part, finding exactly where the landing is was not. He would have to guess its location location-based upon the general feel of where the temple in the city was. He went on instinct alone and dived from the sky into the city below. To Spyro's dismay, not only was he wrong when it came to where he was going to end up, he was on the complete other side of the city. There was no great way to get out of his dive without gaining the attention of the public in any way. He was jealous of Cynder and her ability to melt away into shadows, as it would have given him a great deal of help. His orange wings snapped open as his descent was slowed significantly. Beating his wings to slow himself further, as expected, drawn attention away from whatever else everyone was doing and onto him.
Naturally, there were those that wished to get close and personal with Spyro, and those that did were immediately pushed aside as he walked silently through the streets of the city towards the Temple. After a while, those with somewhat of an interest in him went back to what they were doing previously while those with a greater interest in him continued to follow. Eventually, he made his way back to the plaza that night that he and Cynder had made it snow. It was a happy memory that he was more than glad to recall, but the moment was ruined by a straggler that continued to follow him ever since he landed. A pink dragon named Ember.
It was no secret to him that Ember had a massive crush on Spyro, possibly to the point of sabotaging his relationship with Cynder if it meant allowing her to share the same bed as the savior of the world. He was in no mood to put up with her antics. He stopped dead in his tracks right next to the fountain, waiting patiently for her to get right up next to him. And walk right up next to him she did. At first, Sypro acted oblivious to what was happening, which is exactly what he wanted. What he didn't expect was for her to give him a prolonged kiss on the cheek. He waited for her to cross the line and she did right then and there with our prior build-up. At that instant, he willed the water from the fountain onto her feet and legs and used his ice breath to free her feet solid, immobilizing her.
"Sorry, Ember, but I am in no mood to put up with your antics."
"You jerk! Unfreeze me!" She yelled. Spyro only smirked back at her.
"Your a fire dragon, use what Pyra has taught you to unfreeze yourself.
Or have you been daydreaming too much to pay attention?" He spat back. It was a roast that even Cynder would be proud of. As much as she tried, she was unable to free herself from the ice. "It's gonna be a hot day today, give it an hour and you'll be out in no-time." Spyro walked off and continued on his way to the temple. Ember continued to try and failed to free herself once again. It would be a long day for Ember.
Spyro eventually made it to the temple without any other interruptions. Surprisingly, he got back to his room without encountering anyone, not even a mole. He plopped himself down on the bed cushion where he could finally have the time needed to himself to grieve. And grieve he did. Almost as soon as he relaxed his muscles, he became a bawling mess. The cushion was good enough at muffling the sound of his cries that not even the large and heavy footsteps outside of the door did take the chance to double-check. At least to the first set of ears it did. The door slowly creaked open.
/\/\/\
Cyril was the first to notice that Spyro was gone. Ever since there was that outburst that he had in the mess hall, Terrador, Volteer, and Pyra tasked themselves with making sure to occasionally checking in on the purple dragon in case things went bad or to spread the news that things had gotten better. While he was angry that he had not told him and the rest of the Guardians that he was leaving, leaving the note was better than not letting them know at all. He made his way back from the living quarters to the dojo, where the last of today's elemental lessons were being taught by Terrador.
To Cyril's luck, Volteer and Pyra were also in the dojo watching the young earth dragons practicing their elemental abilities. To say that the dojo was a mess would be an understatement. Scorch marks left from fire and lightning attacks, cracks in the elegant stonework from exploding fireballs and launched icicles, and general wear and tear from all of them. The reason why Terrador was last is that with his mastery of the earth element, he could easily use his powers to repair all of the stonework in the room. And with the last of his students leaving the temple to return to their homes, he began to mend the stone.
The room was filled with a deep green colored aura began creeping across the floor and up the wall. All of the damaged stone that the aura touched began to repair itself, returning to the state it was in before the damage of training four elements in the same room one after the other. Once the process was done, Terrador let out a long sigh of relief as the schooling was over and that they could go about the rest of their days in relative peace and ease. The rest of the Guardians smiled and thanked him for maintaining the dojo. They all sat down in the large, cavernous room. Cyril was the first to talk.
"I walked by Spyro's room and she was not there." He said. The other Guardians started to get a feeling of unease. "However, I did find a note from him. He says that he was doing well, that he did not have any of his nightmares last night. In a celebration of this, he was going back to the swamp to visit his dragonfly parents."
"I wish he would have told us directly rather than just leave as he did," Terrador said, echoing what Cyril had thought. "At least we know that he might be getting better."
"Yes, yes, but if the nightmares are not present, then does that mean that the Chronicler can now communicate with him?" Volteer asked. Cyril shook his head.
"There was no mention of restored communication." There was a silence in the room. Their previously held assumption about the nightmares and the lack of communication from the Chronicler might have very well been disprove right then and there. If that was the case, then they had to find a way to remedy both the nightmares and communication blockage.
"Well, I hope that he is enjoying his time of peace. If anything, paying his foster parents in the swamp might make things better for him." Pyra said to them all. There was another round of silence.
"Do you think that positive emotional stimulus is something that can help cure him, Pyra?" Volteer asked the fire guardian. "If my observations are to be correct, you gave him a positive emotional input that might have broken a feedback loop that was feeding these nightmares, therefore giving him a brief moment of serenity in his repose." She was not sure how to answer that at first thanks in part to the complicated language that he loves to use.
"I am not too sure of that. It might have, but we don't know if it was just an ordinary lapse or if it helped or not. Maybe you should use that scientific mind of you and do some tests when he gets back?"
"I certainly could. We will never know unless we try our options." He said with enthusiasm. Pyra giggled at how quickly he accepted the offer, even without thinking it through all of the ways.
"Thank you, Volteer."
"You're welcome as always." The yellow dragon smiled back.
"I hate to be the breaker of a good conversion, but we have a governance decision to make soon that requires all of us to be there. Perhaps we could continue this after we finish?" Cyril said, serious as ever. They all looked at each other and nodded.
"When when getting through, let us reconvene in the room with the Pool of Visions. There we can continue to discuss this matter. Pyra, if you may, we could use some foresight."
"I can surely provide," she replied.
"Good, good. Now, let us be on our way. We have time to pamper ourselves to look presentable before we meet again at the governance decision."
All of the guardians left the dojo for their respective rooms. As they left, the statue in the likeness of Spyro and Cynder began to rise back up, filling most of the room's space with its magnitude. As that all walked down the hallway, they passed by Spyro's room. Naturally, the heavy footsteps of Terrador drown out much of the sound that would have been emanating from the room if Sypro had returned already. Cyril thought had much better ears than the rest of them, and heard a faint sound from inside the room. Naturally curious, he waited by the door as Terrador continued to walk down the hallway. His suspicions were correct. There was someone inside the room. With Cynder gone, that left only one person that could be in the room.
He opened the door into the room and slowly walked in. The muffled sound became more clear and the source was clear to see. Spyro had returned but has experienced a significant emotional event in the process of his journey back to his roots. Naturally, Cyril had every right to be concerned.
"Spyro, is everything alright?" The icy blue dragon spoke in a very cordial voice. Spyro looked up at him from the sleeping cushion and saw the purple dragon's face. He had turned a shade of a slight shade of red from all of the crying that he had done. Cyril's question had been answered without any need for words at all. "Oh, Ancestors… what has happened that has gotten you distressed like this?"
"We-well, When I-I went to the swamp to see my-my parents. I found them… dead. Sq-squashed like houseflies."
"Oh my..." Cyril walked up and sat down next to Spyro. "What of Sparx? We haven't seen him in a while."
"Him too..." Spyro clenched his eyes shut and bawled more. Cyril was at a complete loss of words and of what to do. Sure, there were the typical responses that he could give, but those were cliché and wouldn't do anything that could help him. He knew what it was like to lose those that were close to him – fighting wars and losing someone close to you – but unlike Spyro, his parents died from old age rather than being brutally murdered for dragonfly standards.
"Do you need some time by yourself?"
"Ye-yeah, that'll be fine."
"Okay, I'll be on my way then. Do you need anything?"
"Preferably you did not tell the others about this. I do-don't want all of you to w-worry to death about me."
"I wouldn't recommend that, but I will comply. I'll be back in four or so hours to check up on you. Is that okay?"
"Yes, that's fine."
Nodding in understanding, Cyril lifted himself off the floor and slowly walked out of his room, closing the door behind him as he left. He felt terrible for not being able to do anything. But then again, that's how the world works. Not everything will go your way and sometimes there is nothing that can be done about it. This was one of those cases. The world showed that not everyone was immune to the reaper, no matter how the reaper got to you. And the world showed that even someone wise enough to make the decisions that dictate the governing of the realms lacked the knowledge to deal with a situation that everyone eventually goes through.
/\/\/\
A group of Quillian scouts was hiding out in mushroom forest what little ruins were left of the original dragon temple. They had set up camp in a small crater where a campfire was built, over which a wild bore was being cooked over its leaping flames There were five of them altogether, a small part in a much larger network of scouts and spies. For all intents and purposes, they were the first combatants when the war officially kicks off. To be specific, in their mission briefing, it said: "When war is officially declared, mission task is to switch from reconnaissance to sabotage of enemy logistical assets." They were the best pick for the job as they knew the Realms better than any other Quillian did. What came into question was that of their total impact doing that. The Realms were much larger than what those back home though it was. Traeblesh might have been 4 million square miles, but the Realms as a whole might as well have been 6 million. That's not including any land not under the dragon's rule.
Thankfully for them, their particular cell of reconnaissance agents had not roused any suspicion as to their presence. That could not be said for all of them. They had heard the news that one of the scouts in the Avalar region had been jumped by a cheetah. Luckily for the Buteo that was jumped, she quickly put down the cheetah where it was, but in a panic dropped her things to high-tailed it out of there before any reinforcements of the part of the cheetahs could arrive. Nobody blames her for doing what she did, but it did leave behind a good bit of documentation behind and solid evidence of their presence. Even then, it wasn't like their language or writing system was the same so there was no real value that the dragons or their allies could make of it.
It was certainly a tough life for them. Survival here was harsh, but then again, it was their task to scout out the area that included the large forest of mushrooms. They were expecting contract and die from some form of lung disease for being in the fungal spores for so long. And it's not like they would find much if they ever came to this place forsaken by the gods. At least they had their fire though, as it helped remove the spores from the air.
"Has anyone been down the river yet?" One of them asked.
"I have. It was just a flyover though so nothing special. If you keep going far enough, it dumps out into the ocean," another one replied, calmly sipping water from a flask.
"Anything remarkable other than that?"
"I mean, you have inhospitable land just like this here. It's completely uninhabited and serves the dragons or their allies any strategic purpose to defend. It could be a great staging area for soldiers seeing as how far inland the river runs."
"Good, Good. Anyone else got something they want to share?" There was nothing but silence. After the news of the scout being jumped, they were a little more than reluctant to go out freely as they had before. And they were a little more than reluctant to move when they heard the sounds of something approaching them. They had gotten accustomed to the sounds of the ambient wildlife in the area, but this would be a little different. Instead of the sound of some feral animal, they heard speech.
"How much further before we get there, Ma?" said a young voice, slowly getting closer.
"It's not much farther, son."
To the Buteos, their words did not make any sense to them. It didn't have to through for them to understand what was happening. They were about to be discovered. And their fire let off more than enough smoke and light in the mushroom forest to be a beacon to whoever passes by. Slowly and nervously, four of the Buteos drew their weapons from their sheaths and one began prepping a crossbow for firing.
"Here we are. This is where the old dragon temple was. When Malefor returned, he ripped the temple straight out of the ground and made it his lair. It was an insult to our kind because he knew how sacred that we held it, and perverting it was his way of getting at us."
"There's a couple of ruins left! Can we look through them?"
"Sure, just make sure that you don't get out of my sight, Okay?"
"I will!"
The sound of feet slowly got closer and closer to the rim of the small crater. They readied themselves for a fight. They heard two voices so that means that there was to possible combatants. One sounded young so it wouldn't be too hard to take down. The other one though was a much different story.
"Huh? A fire?"
The voice got closer, right at the rim. The ground underneath the approaching creature gave way. As the creature tumbled down the crater where the five Buteos where sitting, it became clear to them all what the creature was. It was a child, a little green dragon. For an instant time seemed to freeze as they had to come to some tough choices very quickly. They thought that the younger-sounding one was at least in their early teens. This was not the case. This was a child, no older than ten years old. The child quickly looked around to see strange creatures with weapons at the ready along with something roasting over the fire. The child's overactive imagination only made things worse for the Buteos.
"MA! HELP!" the child screamed as loud as its voice would let it.
"Gran't!?" The sound of the mother running towards their crater made their hearts sink to the lowest portion of their body. Fighting a soldier was one thing, but fighting a mother protecting their child was another.
One Buteo form tackled the child to the ground, trying to hold it's snout shut while four others' attention was directed towards the mother quickly approaching. They did not have time to get themselves ready before the mother saw the scene before her. Here in this crater was creatures that she had never seen before, one of which is her son to the ground with a knife in its hands. Needless to say, they either had to kill the mother and child, run, or die trying.
"Get away from my son!" The mother breathed out a quick and powerful earth shot that threw the Buteo off of her son and to the other side of the crater. It was not a fatal blow, but his groaning was more than enough to warrant the mother's immediate incapacitation and immediate medical attention.
["Shoot the bitch and let's get out of here!"] The one in pain shouted to the others. The marksman with the crossbow was more than happy to oblige. He was aiming for a killing shot to the dragon but was unable to get the accuracy needed with the urgency of the situation. Instead of shooting it in the chest, the shot fell short and hit the thigh of the mother. The earth dragoness bellowed in pain as the bolt of the crossbow sliced all the way through her leg and out the other side with the only thing showing of the arrow where it had made its mark was the fetching against her scales. She tumbled like her son down into the crater and rolled right into their campfire, causing even more pain and injuries.
["Someone go help him up!"] The marksman yelled. Two Buteos came to the aid of their injured. They quickly left climbed out. In a flash, they were gone. The mother dragon writhed in pain as she tried to and successfully removed herself off of a bet of hot coals and flaming logs. For her and her son, they didn't know the true significance of what had happened. For the first time, a Buteo and a dragon have made contact outside of Traeblesh. And it would be the first instance of combat in the war. Little did the mother or the Buteos knew, but that would be the first of many battles. The mother and one of the Buteos would be listed as the first casualties of the war, but they would be far from the last.
Bradan moved quickly with intent to the end of the long hallway of cells. In the daytime, more people were staffing the jail than there had been when he arrived. The sheriff that he had talked with earlier had left for official business, most likely our apprehending those with arrest warrants or dealing with civil matters that could have been solved without his presence. He left one of his deputy's in charge of the office, which Bradan sought out to find before he left. If the dragon in their captivity was to escape, no amount of law enforcement officers with a basic understanding of combat will stop it, but it would slow it down. He found the deputy sitting at the desk that he found the sheriff the night before.
"Good sir, you are going to need more guards at the dragon's cell."
"Who are you to tell me how to work my job?"
"Because there is a good chance that the thing in there has skills and abilities that we've yet to see. I'm sure that you, just as much as I, do not want it getting it loose."
"Not like it would matter. It'll tear through all of the guards you have; four or fourteen, it doesn't matter."
"It's not to stop it from getting out, it to deter it from trying." Bradan began walking towards the door. "I will be back as soon as I can. We need to contain the thing better than it already is."
"Who do you think you are? I don't take orders from some random stranger that walks in thinking they know-it-all prick telling me that I'm not doing my job right." The deputy shouted back at him. Bradan snapped. He whirled around in an instant and with his powers levitated everything that was on the floor, including the chair in which the Buteo at the other side of the desk sat in. It quickly put the deputy in his place.
"I think I'm the only one with the brains around here that actually knows what the fuck they are doing! This isn't like some ordinary drunkard fighting at a bar, this is a dragon. Say it with me now: d-r-a-g-o-n. Do you know what that means? It means the damned thing has powers beyond your understanding. Now, I'm going back to the alchemy laboratory in the royal palace where I can come up with something that can contain the thing better than some iron bars can." He dropped everything back down, the whole building rattling doing so. The deputy behind the desk had no more words to say. Getting new undergarments was his new priority.
Stepping out of the building and off of the porch, he unfurled his wings and took flight with ease. It had been a while since he last had the opportunity to fly, and he was certainly going to enjoy it while it lasted despite the urgency. This was certainly better than having to walk or ride on the back of an animal and certainly much faster. It gave him time to think. How was he going to make sure the dragon – Cynder – was not going to escape from.
He could try to craft something that could magically bound her in one place. No no, that wouldn't work. Provided that she was able to channel enough energy through the magical restraints, they could possibly break due to an energy overload exceeding the capacity of the materials used, alchemized or not. Maybe something that siphoned her reserves of magical power to keep her from using any element magic that she might have in combination with typical restraints. It could work, her physical strength was also in question. There might be no clear solution as to how to keep her contained.
He palmed his face as he continued to beat his wings. This is not a task that he could do alone. There were the other alchemists, his colleagues that he could rely on for support. While he was the best at what he and his colleagues did, there was no way that he could go about doing this task all on his own. He concluded that he would need a combination of magical and physical restraints, and on top of that an overall better place to keep her. With that now in mind, he went through the list of things that he would need and how long it would take for everything to be complete. To his dismay, the process would take some time, mainly in the magical restraints: the energy siphon.
Of course, there were the small magical gizmos that drawn magical energy out of the ambient air for their power source. But they drawl a negligible amount of energy from the air, this would require something bigger. It would take days to complete the siphon, days that they did not have. There was not a better option which that they had. He beat his wings harder to increase his speed; the sooner he and his team began working on the energy siphon, the better. It didn't take long for Castletown to come into view and the palace was not too terribly far away from it either. As the crow flies, everything was not that far from anything. Into the palace courtyard, he landed, which prompted many guards to assemble before him. At least Bradan knew that they were good at the job that they were doing. Because here was wearing the same, albeit dirty clothes he had when he left the day previous, they quickly reduced their response and went back to their normal duties.
Bradan made haste into the palace to the alchemy lab. It was either by fortune or misfortune that he not only encountered his king but the queen as well. This was the perfect time to break the news to them, but there was no telling how either of them would react to it. Bevan, of course, would find an immediate problem with it since there was the war and all while Jadney wouldn't have much on an issue as her homelands were farther up north and in the cold where the dragons did not tread. There was no telling until he did and that is what he did.
"Beven, Jadney, do you two have a moment?" He asked in a very respectable voice. It was a big contrast to how he was earlier with Cynder and the deputy at the desk.
The two Buteos looked at each other and nodded. They had a place to be but could make time for it. "Go ahead." They both said in unison. Both of them chuckled.
"I have some news that you are not going to believe, but I can assure you is the truth." He said. He saw their faces and seen their reactions. Just as expected, they acted differently to one another. Jadney had a look of intrigue while Bevan had an anxious look. "A dragon has been found and is being held in captivity at Mystic Springs. I've seen it with my own eyes."
"Bradan, you better not be playing tricks on me," Bevan said, his voice shaky as his stomach began fluttering. "Do you know the implications of this?"
"Why are you already worrying, sweetheart?" Jadney calmly said to the ever-more nervous Buteo. "It's just one dragon. What harm can it do?" compared to what some could do, that was a massive understatement.
"A lot, my queen..." Bradan interrupted. "I communicated to it. It did not speak our language, so I had to learn hers. It a strange language for sure; very different from our own."
"Really? What did It say to you?"
"It told me her name. It is Cynder. She said that she is here to put forth some negotiations to 'stop conflict.' I believe that she knows more than she is letting on. There is no reason for a single dragon to fly all the way here to tell us that she wants diplomatic ties established. I believe that she already knows about the war and came here to try and stop us."
"How can that be possible? Not even you can tell the future, and you the most powerful mage that we have."
"I do not know. Maybe help from a higher power."
"I wish that our higher powers would come to our assistance. We will be needing it more than ever right now."
"And I wish that you would calm down a bit. I'm losing my hearing and the whole palace can hear you yelling," Jadney interrupted. She had a valid point. The more excited Bevan got, the louder he became.
"Sorry, Love," he said back to her.
"I'm sure that our gods will come to our assistance, we must remain vigilant," Bradan answered back to Bevan. "Anyway, I have note told her that the signing had been done yet, for I am sure that if she had heard the news of the result, it would have not been a pretty sight for even the most hardened of murderers. How did that go by the way?"
"I signed it." Bevan held up his left hand. The black line of dried blood where he had cut for the signing was clear as day against the yellow of the avian scales. "It's healing up quite well but is still sore."
"Oh, the gods… There will be no telling what she would do if she were to hear of it." The atmosphere got a whole lot darker. They all stood there for a loss at what to do with regards to that.
"Well, you two," Jadney piped up, confidence in her voice. "She said that she was here to negotiate, right? Why do we go do that then? You two are worried about what it might do to the point where you are not worrying about what she will do if it can't accomplish what it came to do. If she wants negotiations, then let us go do that. Unfortunately, we can't stop the war now since the declaration was already signed, but we can do our best to led her along into thinking that she is being successful, only to deny her that success."
"My queen, there is a large liability to that."
"I'm well aware of that, my dear alchemist. What I am saying is that if we tell her lightly and indirectly that what she has come to do has failed, then maybe she will go back to the Dragon Realms. Yes, Field Martial O'Brian would have a fit with me as we would lose our surprise advantage, but at least the dragon will leave with little hostilities involved."
Both men look at each other and back at Jadney. They both had their apprehensions about that plan, but it very well could work. If push came to shove, they could still contain her. Bradan wasn't keen on killing Cynder as there were many scientific opportunities to be had if the dragon was still alive. Memories long not thought of came to the surface, and he went wide-eyed with excitement. With the dragon present, there was the chance that gem clusters would generate nearby as well. This was the one chance that Bradan had of getting his hands on green gems in twenty years. Even better if any other types formed too, as they could be studied as well.
"I have to say, Love, I happen to like your thinking," Bevan said, running his hand quickly through the feather on her head. Her mood soured. She hated it when her head feathers were ruffled. Bevan couldn't hold back a big grin. "However, I'm not too keen on how dangerous this could be to us." Jadney only shrugged.
"I'm making you drink a green gem potion when we get this over with," Bradan said, hoping that she would actually consider. With a mind like hers, the alchemist team could use it greatly.
"Sure. Live is better with more magic moments, isn't is, Bevan?"
"I'm sure that I don't want to know those implications, love." All three of them laughed.
"To the point at hand: are you sure that you want to talk up to Cynder personally? She is unpredictable and I cannot ensure that you will be entirely safe from harm." Bradan said very said seriously to both royals. They nodded back in reply. It was settled then. What the two royals would be doing would be canceled and they would go talk to the dragon personally.
"Knock on the door to the lab when you are ready. I have some work that needs to be done there."
"Will do." The two royals said in unison again. Again they chuckled of their synchrony.
Bradan quickly made his way past the two royals and continued towards the lab. He was still apprehensive about letting them get that close to Cynder. He had other things to worry about other than them seeing her. He had to get his team started on the energy siphon quickly before it got any later. Be barged through the lab doors loudly, directing everyone's attention from whatever they were working on to their leader.
"Sorry for the abrupt interruption, but we have new orders." He lied about the part of the order. It was that extra push that he needed to get them to drop what they were doing and get to work building the siphon.
They quickly got to work. The task had been micromanaged down to the smallest detail with Bradan there to advise and provide assistance where it was needed. They needed to get it done and done quickly and Bradan needed to make sure they made significant progress before he, Bevan, and Jadney left for Mystic Springs. It had been about an hour and a half that they worked before a loud and audible knock was heard from the door. Bradan wished his colleagues good luck and that he would be back as soon as he could to help continue their work. He found Bevan, Jadney, and a Royal Guard detail with them. The monarchs were dressed in moderately fancy clothing although not as fancy as the regalia they had to wear to the signing ceremony.
They walked through the castle and out front where there was a carriage had been prepared and was waiting on their arrival. There was also a Royal Guard escort consisting of twenty-two mounted guardsmen two abreast with ten in the front and ten in the back and the other two on either side of the carriage. They were the best of the best, and Bradan placed his trust in them to protect them all. Bradan wasn't so confident. He had first-hand experience fighting with the dragons, and they had the potential to kill twenty soldiers in two minutes flat. If all else failed, the monarchs had a veteran among their ranks that was more than capable of stopping it.
At the order of Bevan, the carriage moved and the Royal Guardsman did with it. Their journey would take some time, but it was a great lull from all of the stress. It then occurred to Bradan that he had not secured any physical restraints. He did eye a forge and blacksmith shop in Mystic Springs that he could commission to make them. It wouldn't be out of their ability to produce the heavy chains and shackles needed seeing as how it was one of the weapon suppliers for the Royal Army. It was rather convenient that Derick and Co. Forging and Smithing just so happen to be in the same place as where they were keeping Cynder.
/\/\/\
Lyle had gone the distance from Fort Ledura thanks in part to him taking his warhorse. The pace of his mount was at a canter, which was at the moment just about the perfect amount of speed that he needed without wearing out his horse too quickly. Mystic Springs was still many miles away, and there was nothing that he could do in the meantime but watch all of the scenery as him and the horse traveled over the packed-in clay dirt road and feel the wind in his face. He could have flown for sure but would have been slowed down by his personal items. Even without items, his almost perpetually sore muscles would make it difficult for him to go far.
It took him a couple more hours to finally reach Mystic Springs. The time was around two in the afternoon – he had left the fort around ten in the morning. It was no small town by any means, but it was small enough to where everybody knew who went into the army, and there was no shortage of people trying to get in his way. It was as if he had become a celebrity since his time gone. Thankfully for him, he could easily keep his horse at a trot and push through the crowd of people. It didn't take long for the people to disperse as he showed no interest in them and therefore wouldn't give them the attention that they craved.
He finally came upon the forge that he had known for so long of his life. They hadn't slowed down one bit, rather it seems that their production has increased since he left. He dismounted from his warhorse and tied it up to a post outside the shop for that very purpose. He casually walked into the forge part in search of his father. At first, he didn't find him. Perhaps he was our running errands or making a delivery to the nearest depot. He eventually found him napping in a chair in a cooler part of the forge. Lyle couldn't help but laugh at the sight before him. Here was the master smith that, with the help of his apprentices, producing a good portion of the kingdom's weapons, was found passed out cold in the middle of a sweltering forge.
Lyle walked up to his resting father and with a sudden shout woke him up. Derick falling out of his resting chair had to have been the funniest thing that he had seen in a long time. His father instantly recognized that it was his son that had woke him for a well-deserved rest. "Dammit, Lyle! I might be worn out but I can still bust your ass any time!"
"Good to see you too, dad." Lyle snickered back. Derick gave a long sigh, but smiled up at him.
"It's good to see you too. Can you help me up out of the floor?"
"Yeah. Take my hand." Lyle clasped his father's hand and heaved. His father quickly got back up on his feet where he threw his arms around his son.
"How have you been? I thought that you had to be in longer than what you have to get leave time."
"Surprisingly, the Field Martial himself came to Fort Ledura and saw my cavalry skills. He said that he wanted to reward me for my quick proficiency and so I wanted to come to see you and mother for a bit before I go back to the fort."
"Well, I'm glad that you've come back for a bit. I could use an extra set of hands in the forge for a day or two." Derick said in a very sly way. He had a way of putting things that made it sound like nothing more than a joke but puts a bit of seriousness in it that let the listener know that he means it. Lyle was smarter than that to fall for it and countered with his own.
"And I could use someone to look after my warhorse for a day or two." Both of them laughed. Lyle would stay and help in the for the remainder of the workday, then go back home and get the social time with his family.
Five-Thirty came more quickly than any of them expected. Closing time was seven, but the process of shutting down the whole forge took its time as the furnaces had to cool and all of the debris of manufacture had to be cleaned up. Most of the forges at this time hadn't been refueled to let the fires die and to cool for the night before new face walked into the forge. He was wearing fancier clothes, some of which made him look more silly than high-class. He noticed that Lyle was free of a task at the moment and approached him.
"Do you run this forge?" The man asked.
"No, but my father does."
"So you are Derick's son then?"
"Indeed I am. I'm Lyle."
"Bradan." He offered his hand for a shake that Lyle accepted. While his choice of clothing was something that he would give him flack for, Lyle had to admit that a firm handshake was a sign of respect, and he was already beginning to respect him.
"Let me go find Derick and he can help you with whatever you need." Lyle left in search of his father. He found him sweeping up metal fragments out of the floor from around an anvil. He beckoned him over to where Bradan had been left standing, waiting for them. Just like Lyle, Bradan greeted Derick with a handshake, although Derick did not accept. Instead, he greeted Bradan with a large scowl and sour attitude. There was something odd about Derick that Bradan couldn't quite put his finger on. He had the look of someone with a long-held grudge against someone but Bradan had only just met Derick.
"You are Derick?" Bradan asked him.
"Yes. Can't you see that we are shutting down for the day? What do you want you inconsiderate prick," Derick said rudely to his face. Bradan rolled his eyes at the insult. This wasn't going to be easy for him.
"Generally speaking, if a business's hours say that it's going to be open till seven, then it should stay in operation until seven," He said flatly. "Anyway. I need to place an order for some heavy-duty chains and shackles. If I can get then as soon as possible, that would be greatly appreciated."
"Sure thing. A deposit payment of two-thousand Nil now or no order."
"That's extortion."
"No, it's not, its a trouble fee for you coming in here when we are closing."
"Oh really? Because I see one of your apprentices over there shoveling coal into one of your forges." All of them turned their heads to see a young, coal dust-covered youngster shoveling coal into one of the few remaining furnaces that were still lit. "I'm sure that I'm not that big of a problem that you are making me out to be."
"Yeah, you are, not get out of here."
"Why?"
"Because if you don't you'll find yourself with a hammer in your head." Derick walked over to one of the work stations and picked up a hefty forge hammer. Lyle tried to step in the way of his father only to be violently shoved out of the way and into the floor. He got right up to Bradan's face, their beaks almost touching. Derick clutched the hammer in his hand tightly. "Now, you have one last chance to get the fuck out before I drop you dead right here."
"Try me." Bradan's right forearm began emitting the sea-green aura that it always had when casting magic. He was waiting for the blacksmith's next move. He called his bluff. If he did nothing, then it was good. If he swung, Bradan was more than capable of stopping the blow before Derick got close. Before either of them could do anything or Lyle could get out of the floor, another person calmly walked into the forge.
"Might I ask what is going on here?" the feminine voice asked. Before any of them looked to see who it was, Derick already was more than angry enough to lash out at that person too.
"Same applies to you too, you cheating bitch!" He threw the hammer across the forge and towards the female. Bradan acted quickly to stop the hammer in midair. The stasis spell held the hammer in midair where it was. His actions might have saved whoever it was that was going to get hit had he not been sucker-punched in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and dropping his concentration. The hammer quickly returned on its' trajectory that had before Bradan froze it in midair. He didn't have the time to remove of the object's momentum to drop it to the ground. All he heard was a yelp before he got knocked to the floor with a hard right hook to the face. On the floor, he saw who Derick would have gravely injured. He almost murdered the Queen of the Quillum.
Jadney barely hopped out of the way before the hammer flew past her. Naturally, this attracted more attention than Derick hoped for. Royal Guardsmen ran in and quickly restrained Derick as Bevan ran in to see what had happened, and it was pretty damning. Here his head alchemist was laid out on the floor, his wife lucky to not be hurt, and someone in a soldier's uniform who was also knocked on the floor. Derick did his best to resist, but trying to wrestle yourself out of the grasp of the best soldier in the kingdom was not going to get you far.
"You… You are going to regret that decision." Bevan said, furious at the actions that this man had done. He was visibly shaking in anger. "You're not gonna see the sun for a long, long time."
"Just who do you think you are? Highborn thinking that you can boss me around like some slave?" Derick spat at Bevan. There was no chance in Hell that it would actually hit him. That didn't stop a Guardsman from comically grabbing and holding his beak shut with such force that it could break if he wanted to apply more pressure to it.
"I think that I am your king and that you came very close to hurting the most precious thing in my life."
While the Guardsman did not let up on the blacksmith's beak, it did not stop him from trying to talk, "There's no way that you're Bevan, you poser." That was the first time that Bevan was ever called a poser. It was more intriguing than infuriating.
"Better start believing. Guardsmen, you'll be getting a bonus for this." All the guardsmen broke their expressionless and smiled. Money talks. "As for you," he looked back down at Derick, "I'm not all that sure. Attempted regicide entails a high price for the convicted. We will have to wait and see. I've got important business to take care of here, so don't think you are going anywhere."
He turned around and walked over to Jadney, visibly shaken for what just happened. She was okay, but that was too close for comfort. Bradan, as well as Lyle, got themselves up out of the floor too. They too were okay. All of this left Lyle in a massive state of confusion. Why did his father go off on Bradan like that? and better yet why did he decide that violence was the best answer? He didn't know and probably didn't want to know. Lyle approached Bevan and Jadney.
"Your highness," he said, sorrow in his voice, "I am very sorry for what happened here. My father, I don't know what got into him," Lyle lowered his head.
"Don't be sorry, young man. There was nothing that you could do. He was committed to whatever he was trying to accomplish," Jadney replied, her voice still shaking a bit.
"I guess you are right. I hope that this didn't ruin what you were here for."
"Oh no, it didn't. But we need to get on our way."
"Oh, okay. Good luck to you."
"Good luck to you too, young man."
Lyle was about to go about to pick up where his father left off. He didn't know what was going to happen to his father. He saw that he was being taken with them so there was no telling. It was something that he needed a definite answer to. "Wait!" he shouted. The monarchs and their alchemist stopped in their tracks. "What will happen to my father?"
Jadney was first to reply. "We will decide that later. As I said, we have things that we have to get done. I will make sure you know before we leave." Lyle nodded. They left the building and headed for the jail where the black dragon waited patiently for something remarkable to happen or the right moment to escape.
Bradan was still puzzled by what all had happened. He had never met Derick before yet Derick had acted so aggressively to him as if he had been wronged by Bradan. Another thing that puzzled him was why he lashed out at Jadney as he did. He remembered the words he said before he threw the hammer at her: 'You cheating bitch.' He had not looked away from Bradan before throwing it, so there was no way that he would have saw that she was the Queen. But the queen was born and lived to the far north before marrying Bevan and moving down south, so how was it possible for her to cheat on him? It was a whole new can of worms that he was not going open. There were more important things to worry about.
/\/\/\
Cynder was laying down in her cell patiently waiting. The cushion and medicine that Bradan had provided for her was very nice and contributed to her willingness to wait to see what happens. Of course, she would not wait in a cell for weeks while her fellow dragons back home are being slaughtered, knowing good and well that she can escape at any time. It was getting later in the evening and closer to nighttime, which would make an escape with her shadow magic in combination with her black scales would make it a walk in the park.
Amid the sounds of the law officers coming in and out of the building and the increased number of guards, there was a new sound that came to her ears. It was at the entrance to the jail that she first heard it, then it started to make its way to her general direction. It was the sound of dozens of people moving, the majority in unison with others irregular. As they got to her cell door, it was clear that some of them were equipped with metal armor by the sound of metal on metal contact that their armor made. At her door was the presence of many people. The sound of the door to the cell being unlocked was like a song to her ears. All then that she needed to do was phase into shadow, slip in between the bars and out the door to get her freedom.
Out of all of the Buteos that walked in, she recognized the one that had talked to her earlier in the day: Bradan. He was followed by two other Buteos in fairly nice and presentable clothing, and no fewer than four of guardsmen. Cynder was oblivious to how powerful the people were in the cell.
["Wow, so this is the dragon that has made it to our land. Truly awesome,"] Bevan said in the language of the Buteos.
["She does not speak our language, so I will have to give you the ability to speak and understand it."] Bradan told him. Bradan's eyes began to glow sea-green again as he looked into Bevan's and Jadney's. It took a couple of moments, but they could understand and communicate with Cynder.
"So, you are Cynder. I've heard that you came here to negotiate with us." Bevan told the dragon in the cell. It was strange talking in the dragon's tongue and it gave him a strange accent.
"What does it matter now? Your magical buddy there already told me that there was no stopping it." She said in a faux depressed manner. "Who are you anyway?"
Bevan turned to Bradan and punched him square in the arm. [Why did you tell her that!?"] He asked angrily Bradan only shrugged back. He turned to face Cynder again. "Bevan Canary Raemes. If there is anyone that you are wanting to negotiate with, it's me. You are looking at the king of Quillum."
Cynder quickly shot upright with surprise. Did her fate change for the better? "Aren't you supposed to send an envoy or something? It's it when it comes to extremes that you show up?"
"Well, I guess you could say that. And this a rather extreme situation away."
"Fair point. This war of yours... I want to stop it before it begins. I've already heard the reasons for it and I cannot accept that you are doing this for the idea that you will avenge those that a few corrupted dragons with no control of their bodies did."
"For one, not all were corrupted dragons. Bradan can tell you from experience." Bradan swallowed nervously that Bevan had brought that up. He was hoping that he would not bring up the dragon-slaying past but he did, and that only made things worse for them all.
"You've kept more secrets from me, Bradan?" Cynder asked. A feeling of anger slowly started to fill her. "What more have you not told me about yourself?"
"Yes, I have. It was to make things less tense when we began talking to one another." Bradan walked up closer to the cell bars, within arms grasp of them. "During my military service, I was part of a special unit of magic casters. However, our mission was not to a sort of special force to the main army, but one whose job it was to kill the Dragons of the Dark Army. It was just outside this town that we made our fist kill; I was the one to kill it. It was a fearsome red dragon with plenty of old battle scars. When we slew it, it did remain the same size as before.
"We also had our fair share of corrupted dragons that we had to hunt down. Those that were shrunk back down to a smaller size: sometimes a child, sometimes a teenager. It's clear that some of these dragons fought for the Dark Army willingly while others were forced into it. Those that came willingly are the ones that we think about all the time because it shows that it's not just some mind control, it's a willing, sentient being that is making a choice of its' own free will. If you don't believe me, I can prove it."
Bradan held out his hand and the aura glowed again like it always had. It was anti-climatic. It looked like he was just holding his hand out like an idiot. As more and more eyes began to bear down on him, he sought to defend himself from the awkwardness. "It takes just a second..." He continued to hold out his hand until books of various sized began to fly in the barred window. Some of them thin enough to fit through, others got stuck and had to be cracked open just to fit through. Others would not fit at all. Book after book opened themselves to Cynder, who could only stare at them not knowing what she was looking at. He turned to the monarchs momentarily ["I'm not sure if any of those came the easy way or if they broke through a wall to get here."] He faced Cynder again.
"I'm sure that you are not able to understand our writing system, so I will teach it to you." With his still outstretched hand, he focused his magic at Cynder's head and his eyes changed color again to match the aura. Cynder was naturally resistive to the magic as she should be. She didn't know if he intended to teach her the language or to affect her mind in other ways. To his word, the text below began to make sense. "See, I did exactly as I said I would. Now, look at those books."
Page after page, it only sought to confirm what they had talked about and that Cynder refused to believe. Each one in extreme detail documented almost every gruesome detail, including vivid illustration and description. Each book was distinctively different from one another proving that they were not just copied renditions of the same book. Cynder was in denial of it all. She tossed another one aside for the next one only for it to corroborate the same information. It wasn't until she got to archived and copied after-action reports with the same level of illustrated and exposition that it began to set in that what the Quillians were showing her was the truth. It was sad to admit, but in the face of so much evidence, there was no denying it. Dragons free of mind-controlling corruption had willfully slaughtered Buteos without any remorse. Cynder shook her head in disbelief.
"So you see, Cynder," Bevan spoke up. "They can't all be blamed on mind-controlling corruption. They did it of their own free will."
"Okay, what does that even matter in the end? The Dark Army was fighting against all of those that lived in the Dragon Realms. Dragons, Cheetahs, Atlawa, or any of the moles; it did not matter who or what they were. We were affected just as much as you were from this, if not more."
"It matters a lot in the end, actually. Did the Dragon Realms collapse when Malefor decided to kill your distant ancestors?"
"No"
"Did the dark ages of rival and warring factions cause further divisions in your species, one that is still evident even to this day?"
"No"
"Did the fracturing of the world kill thousands upon thousands of people?"
"No. Well, yes. There were those that we could not warn in time for them to make to some kind of shelter. Obviously, there are going to be some deaths because of it."
"Then why didn't we get a warning, hmm?" Bevan asked in the sliest way that he could. It was a dishonest tactic, but it was working well in this situation. It was certainly impossible for them to receive a warning in time from so far away. Cynder was flustered, and he fully intended for her to make the mistake of admitting fault even though there was no fault on the dragons' part for not warning the Quillian's ahead of time; a warning was easier when you actually knew of someone to warn. She activated his trap card.
"Because we couldn't." Bingo! It wasn't exactly what Bevan was looking for, but he could easily get the upper hand now.
"You couldn't? Well, you sure could warn your species quite well considering that there's enough left from all of the fighting that you speak of as well as the World's Fracture that you have a society left. Meanwhile, we are left to die without a second thought." It was a low blow and dishonest at best, but it was effective. If anything, the dragons had experienced more suffering at the hands of the Dark Army than any other species. To suggest that they only made it sound like that did make it harder for Cynder.
"I'm sorry..." Shifting the blame on herself was the one thing that she did not need to do. It compounded off of her own internal issues: The responsibility of the action of The Terror of the Skies, her own failures, and the fact that she had come here only for it to be in vain. The tension within was building, and she was ready to snap.
"I'm afraid that a simple 'I'm sorry' isn't good enough. Go tell that the hundreds of thousands affected by species actions. I'm sorry, little one, but you've come here to avoid something that Fate had willed centuries ago." Bevan began to walk out the room followed by Jadney, Bradan, and the Royal Guardsmen. Cynder was left shaking in anger. She refused to simply let this war go on.
"I don't believe that one bit! I'll stop this war, even if have to end all you personally!" She had finally snapped. In a fit of anger, she was on the attack.
Bradan, Bevan, and Jadney all went wide-eyed in sudden shock and fear. They had not expected that Cynder would fight them right here and now. It was on Bradan's quick thinking that they had gotten out of the cell before they were caught in there when Cynder began her attack.
["Go, Quickly! Guardsmen, stop her!"] Bradan yelled as he quickly grabbed the monarchs and ran out of the cell door. At that moment, Cynder phased into shadow and advanced through the bars and traveled across the floor, wherein a cloud of shadow, she clawed and slashed at the Royal Guardsmen still in the cell room. Their armor proved a little more tough to get through that Cynder had anticipated, but exposed areas such as their wings proved valuable targets for attack, and she exploited that weakness to the fullest extent. The best of Quillum's soldiers had become a bleeding mess on the floor of a jail.
She rematerialized and dashed the door. Normal jail guards were easy enough. Just a swing of the tail blade at the neck and they were as good as dead. Royal Guardsmen in the hallway were harder to take down in comparison. It was because of this difficulty that the Guardsmen further back from her had time to draw their weapons and ready themselves for battle. Unfortunately, there was a restrained and angry blacksmith that was still with the guardsmen. A tail blade found it's mark in his chest. It was buried to where the blade connected to the tissue of the tail. All the worse when the blade was twisted to ensure maximum trauma. No amount of medical care could heal a wound like that.
Cynder's sights were firmly planted on the three running to the exit. With a boost from wind magic, she lunged forth through the hallway and towards the trio. History of the kingdom might have repeated itself had it not been for an ordinary soldier who just so happened to be visiting the town that day. Lyle had heard the commotion as it began all the way to the forge. Something was going wrong, and he was going to make sure that he was doing his best to help. He specialized in polearms and ran around the forge looking for one. He found one. It was the same production lance that he trained with back at Fort Ledura. He grabbed it and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the jail. It was a strange feeling to be running towards a battle rather than galloping on the back of a horse, but nevertheless, he was en route. He jumped on the porch and busted the door down trying to get in.
There he saw before his eyes a black dragon bearing down on the three visitors from earlier. He was not going to let them die on his watch, or at least he was going to buy them some time to get out. He aimed his lance at the dragon's heart and braced himself for the dragon to impale itself for him. It wouldn't be that simple though. Cynder was too close to avoid being hit but far enough to avoid a fatal blow. The tip of the lance found its mark along the dragon's flank where it cut through the armored scales and into the softer hide underneath. It was a long, glancing blow. I was not the worst injury that Cynder had ever experienced but was more than enough to break its concentration from the attack.
It was in Cynder's brief pause from the attack that allowed for Bradan to take control over the fight. The aura returned around his arm, swirling with the force of a thunderstorm as he froze Cynder where she was. He lifted her in the air and slammed her into the floor, sending her through the floorboards and into the ground below. He raised her back up out of the hole in the floor and did it again for good measure. It was more than enough for her to give up on her attack. To add insult to injury, he threw her against the stone walls where she bounced off and landed on the floor to writhe in the pain of the long gash along her side and the myriad of potential broken bones.
Bevan, his heart still racing from the terror of it all, walked over to and looked down at the young dragon. Her eyes locked with his. He could see it. There was true sorrow. And there was true pain. "You shouldn't have done that. You've only sought to prove my point. Look down that hallway. There lay the bodies of those that you have killed and injured, including, oh, well imagine my shock, another civilian. So quick, quick to violence. You could have simply left, gone back to where you came from and prepare ahead of time of what is to come, yet you thought that the best course of action was to try and murder everyone here."
Cynder couldn't move her head around to see for herself to the extent of her outburst. But someone else could. That someone would be Lyle. He looked down the hallway to see that his father was one of the may on the floor. He rushed down the hallway, avoiding the bodies of the injured or dead as well as the pools of blood. When he got to his father, there was no denying that this moment would be his last. Lyle began to cry. One of the two most influential people in his life was dying below him and there was nothing that he could do about it to save him.
His father faintly spoke to him while he still could. The voice was hardly recognizable. "Wipe that tear from your eye, son." Lyle did as he was told. "I didn't want you to go into the army, but now I realize here more than ever that I was a fool for trying to discourage you. Go teach those bastards a lesson. Raise our flag up high." That was the last words that Lyle would ever hear from his father. Lyle prayed that his soul finds peace where ever that might be. From the sadness within him, a slow-burning rage began to fill him, pushing the sadness out. Lyle was more than angry enough to drive the lance he took right through the black dragon's skull. He walked slowly back to the lobby where Bradan, Bevan, and Jadney still stood over Cynder. His fists clenched tighter and tighter the closer he got to her.
["Now how are we going to contain her now? She can clearly phase through any solid constraints. And given that we cannot guarantee that a magic siphon can absorb all of it, she can just as easily escape from that."] Bradan crossed his arms, pondering what to do with the dragon on the floor below him. Bevan to his side that remembered something that Bradan had not thought of since he had first mentioned it.
["Bradan, do you remember what you mentioned to me a while back when you invited me into your office?"]
["What of it?"]
["Do you recall saying that you were working on something? I think you called it 'metaphysics.' It was something having to do with the soul."]
["Hmm, yes. I do remember."] Bradan stool there in the thought of the implications. He and his team had only accidentally discovered how to separate a soul from a body. He was unsure that if it would work on the dragon. There was work to be done and not a whole lot of time to do it. His team of metaphysicists was also part of the larger alchemist team. They were working on a blasted siphon that might not even have enough capacity to drain all of the dragons' magic. They would have to go through with it soon or risk the damn thing getting loose if and when it recovers. ["I think that it is our best route to contain her."]
["Then I think it's time we all get back to the palace and get to work on it. We can't have Cynder getting loose and we certainly cannot have her getting in the way of our plans,"] Bevan said, patting Bradan on the back. He turned to face Jadney. ["Are you doing okay?"]
["Yes, I'm doing fine. Just a little shook up, that's all."] On top of the shock of all that had happened, she was angered and saddened that out of all of her ideas that this one backfired the most. ["That went horrible. I shouldn't have thought that this was a good idea."]
["Don't let it get to you, Jadney. Most of them are great. It's only a matter of time before something goes wrong. And it's my fault for being that belligerent with Cynder in the first place. I'm sorry for my recklessness."]
["Apology accepted."]
["I'll have to make this up to you somehow."]
["A beach vacation would be nice."] Jadney giggled. The thought certainly did entertain Bevan's mind. Once this all got underway, then perhaps that was a possibility.
["I will see what I can do about that."]
["I was being facetious, but I'll accept that offer."] Jadney gave him a large smile. The two monarchs left the jail altogether, leaving Bradan, Lyle, and Cynder. The rest of the Royal Guardsmen that were were either uninjured or not too terribly hurt followed the out. Twelve of them had come but only seven would return. Three were lucky not to sustain any injury while the four others were not in a bad enough shape to prevent them from traveling. The rest, however, was no so fortunate. They all had perished. The law officers are all dead on the far side of the room too. Lyle grabbed his lance and held it tight. It was no secret that he wanted to kill her right then and there but Bradan wouldn't let him, no matter how much he tried.
["Lyle, I am truly sorry for your loss. Is there anything that I can do to help you?"]
[Yes. Kill that thing right now before I lose what little self-control I have left."]
[That won't be necessary. We have a fool-proof way of keeping her contained now, we just need to get her back to the palace where we can get the procedure done."]
["Procedure? What exactly are you planning on doing? She got out of here no problem at all. What makes you think that you can come up with something better?"]
["Because we did not know what she was truly capable of. Plus, I was not the one that had her put in here in the first place"] Bradan crossed his arms and stood there for a moment of silence.["As for what I'm going to do with her, that I cannot tell you at all. I am sure however that it will contain her without a doubt."]
["You better make sure that it does. Otherwise, I will get some extra training hours in hunting that bitch down."] Lyle just walked out of the jail just like Bevan and Jadney. That left only Bradan and Cynder in the room. It was a surreal experience. She still laid there on the floor, not moving an inch. The lengthy gas on her flank a sizable amount of blood but had finally stopped and a large reddish-black line ran down her side.
"You know what you are in store for now, don't you? This isn't going to be easy for you, but I can assure that you will never be able to do what you just did again. We have the capability to put into place a preventative measure that will ensure your complete compliance."
Cynder was in no shape to give a witty response, but she gave one anyway. "Your last attempt to keep me didn't work. What makes you think that this one will?"
"Because it's hard to do things when your body has no soul."
As he looked over his pool of visions, Ignitus fell into deep despair. He had seen through Cyril that Spyro had lost his parents and his brother to murder and the place he called home reduced to ash by a fire. Even worse was about to happen to Cynder. He did not think that it was possible to remove a soul from its body, which posed an interesting question if or when it does happen. Would he still be able to contact her? see her memories? Could he still document her life that way? Better yet, how would he word that news to the Guardians to relay? On the other hand, he now knew in detail of the Quillian society and the Buteos that inhabit it. Of what limited knowledge he now had, it fascinated him. It was just like discovering a lost civilization.
With that knowledge in hand, he looked through the archive of dragons to see if the Buteos were correct in that the dragons had gravely wronged them. After his information search, he found what he was looking for. They had a convincing argument for their actions, but not enough for outright justification. It was fueled more by national pride and prejudice towards dragons for their past actions.
It was time to separate fact from fiction to see if their information the Quillian history books were to be believed. First off, they were absolutely correct about Malefor bringing about the collapse of the First Kingdom of Quillum. Malefor's knowledge of Traeblesh came from a nomadic wind dragon that, had he not told him otherwise, would have killed everyone in his flight of dragons. Ignitus couldn't blame the wind dragon for disseminating that information. If he was in that dragon's paw prints, he would have done it too. Being able to look through Malefor's complete book, he see every reason that he had to attack the Quillians.
Strange as it was, it was out of fear that he did it. The Quillians and the Buteos that lived in the kingdom had been progressing their society at an exponential rate. Had he not done the action he had done, there was the chance the Quillians would surpass the dragons in all aspects. All the while without the magical abilities that they had now. It was a power play. He did not want any opposition, and his attack against the Quillians was to prevent them from being able to stop him the first time around. It certainly did stop them from progressing, in fact, it regressed them. It was with the ability of them now to directly harness the power of the spirit gems that they were able to get back on track, progressing at a brake-neck pace.
The second was if the Dark Army invasion story and it was correct but there he found some half-truths. While the dragons caused a significant number of deaths, the majority could be attributed to the apes. Dragons were used at shock troops or interdictors while the apes were the primary force behind the attacks. The Quillian texts say it seems like the majority of the deaths were caused by the dragons, but it seems that they were the most documented.
This move was for resources and a permanent foothold in the world. It thought that because of his daring attack against the Quillians that the only resistance that he would from whatever society the Buteos came up with after the fall of the kingdom. It was not expected that the kingdom would return. Assuming that they were weak was one of Malefor's shortcomings when he ordered his army and what dragons he had attack the kingdom again. The apes were easy to deal with by the normal forces, but it was the dragons that they had the most trouble with. It was the ingenious way that they were able to give themselves the ability to cast magic that allowed them to get the upper hand. Had they not slain many of the dragons in the Dark Army's ranks, things could have been much more grim to the Dragon Realms.
The third was the World's Fracturing. For this, he truly felt sorry for them. The Destroyer's path of destruction was a Westward journey wherein it avoided completely their homelands. They had absolutely no warning of it or the danger that it posed to them. They fared better that he thought that they would have though. But sufficed to say, it was a miracle that they had not died in larger numbers. Ignitus cringed at the prospect that many people were crushed and buried alive due to imperfect repair. That too was something new to him. The world was seemingly repaired seamlessly but it seemed that the further away from familiar territory, the more mistakes were made.
These were interesting times and continued to defy any sort of predictability. The glimpses of the future were changing faster than he was able to interpret what the changes were. There was no certainty was for what was going to happen, and it was kind of thrilling. As someone who didn't want to document another war, he was kind of excited to see what was going to unfold.
Holy shit, It's done! There was a lot to write here and I'm glad to say that it's finally over with. I've not got much else to say here, so I will end it here. Again, if you haven't done so, please leave a review and join the discord server I made for the Story. There I can communicate with you, my audience, much better than I can than through the Reviewer Response alone. With that, i end the chapter.