Reviewer Response:
To Satelliteblues: Yeah, it does go a long way. Indeed, the preparations are finished, and the Royal Army will be on their way. And I'm proud of the part with the little Dryad and Cynder. I'm sure that interactions between them will be a nice break from the carnage that will follow.
To Guest Reviewer: Thank you for reviewing the story! I'll address some of the problems that you brought to light.
1) Is the soul removing procedure too easy and without limit? Yes, that was the point. The only thing in terms of limits is just how long one is willing to do it before they reach their moral limit.
2) For Cynder using Aether, since it was unintentionally bestowed upon her, my interpretation is that she can't use it at will but under certain circumstances like in fury attacks or in the Malefor fight. Breaking free from the spruce tree using Aether? Well, if a soul itself could use magic, she certainly could. Her body is preserved but is still petrified, so even if she did break free and find it, she would just end up sealed in a statue. As for keeping her there, she will not be saved by Spyro, and she will not remain there for the rest of the story. There is a lot planned behind the scenes for her, I just need to get to that part of the story.
3)The sealing away of Malefor is more akin to banishing than manipulating. Plus, while the sealing of Malefor was through dragon magic, the manipulation of souls by the Quillians was through the accidental discovery of the properties of the Mysterious energy brought up in previous chapters. The Mysterious Energy will be explored further as the story grows. 4) While I appreciate your idea for a solution, it wouldn't work. Bradan is not stupid enough to try that when he and his already experimented with petrification, de-petrification, and the moving of souls between temporary vessels and their original bodies.
5) Guerrilla warfare might work well until effective counter-insurgency tactics, then fail as the defenders know how to effectively counter the attacks. Scorched earth tactics are inevitable on both sides as well
Once again, thanks for reviewing.
Chapter 10: On The High Seas
Song: Metal Invasion–masqueraded – Freedom Call
The salty sea breeze was filled with soot as the steamships continued to burn coal for their steam engines. They ran at a more fuel-efficient and slower speed as to allow for the sailing ships behind them to stay in close proximity – and with the fortunate southward wind and ocean current was keeping a good pace. The crews of the boats that had to clean the sails once the journey was complete. However, they were not so pleased with what came with soot and pristine white sails. In the end, though, the soldiers aboard the ships did not care what color the sails were as long as they got to the distant shores.
For Lyle and his friends, there were still thankful that they got the rooms that they did and that they got the comforts of a steamer ship rather than the sailing ones. They, like many others, were on the weather deck. Some were basking out in the sunlight, others were chatting, a few were sparing with wooden training swords and spears, and the remaining were minding their own business elsewhere. All of them shared in one experience, and that was they all really hadn't been on a boat much in their lives. Mild cases of seasickness were common with some so cases so severe that medical attention. Otherwise, the trip had gone well for the first few days.
By this time, the morale boost was starting to wane, and many of the soldiers on the ship were returning to their previous state of anxiousness. Lyle was no exception. It didn't bother him all that much if he wasn't overthinking about it, although there were times where he could feel his hands quivering ever so slightly. He had asked the others how they felt about the matter and got a verity of responses from inside his group and out.
Ian had already begun to feel the stress returning to him the morning after they set sail. When questioned further about it, he was glad to elaborate. "I can't help but think deep down if the mistake that put me here in the cavalry unit was the mistake that would sign my soul over to the reaper," he said plainly, somewhat distant sounding. "I know that the mission of our cavalry unit is to skirmish behind enemy lines, so we are not supposed to see frontline combat, but being behind our own lines reloading our heavy guns also puts me a lesser risk assuming they don't fly over and find us. Long story short, I'm afraid that whatever I do is going to end up in my untimely death. I've got so much to live for, so I'm hoping that nothing significant happens." It was a reasonable response. Almost all of the soldiers, including the sailors, were all concerned over their survival.
Erin had been much calmer and collected than the majority of those that were on The Long Road. Viewing her past made that apparent. Her mother was a priestess that sought to teach her in the mystical ways before she had any intentions of joining. The jewelry that adorned her neck and wrists was a clear indicator that she had been taught well and steeped in the mystical. "I hold hope for us that we will do well; nobody but the divine knows our fate. While I do not wish for any of us to be lost in battle, I know that the souls of the lost will rest easy knowing that they were fighting against the menace that has plagued us for over a thousand years," she spoke confidently. She did not fear death like the others.
"You seriously believe in that bullshit, Erin?" Kinn spoke sarcastically, but with a harsh overtone. "So what if some of us get killed? It just goes to show that they were slackers in their training and that they are the ones at fault for their death, not the dragon that they failed to slay." Kinn was laid on the deck sunbathing with his wings unfurled.
"That's not how that works, smartass," Lyle spoke up. "You aren't in control of them breathing any of their elemental breaths, nor when they decided when to attack you physically. Yes, more training is better as you will have more experience before you ride into battle, but the only experience gained in combat will make any marginal improvement."
"I've been doing this since I lied my way into the army. I've been doing this for five years. You've only seen real training for about a month now. If you live through our first engagement, then I'll take back all that I said. If you die, then let that be a lesson for all of you here." Kinn didn't make any attempt to socialize after that. Lyle just looked bemused back to Erin.
Lyle beckoned Erin and Ian over to another part of the weather deck away from the hearing range of their arrogant leader. They would find that place on the other side of the ship with the superstructure and other chatter keeping away their conversation from Kinn's ears. It was not as populace on that side of the ship – the shadier spot was not in high demand – which meant that there would be less eavesdropping from other Buteos.
"Erin, does he always act more arrogant than usual around you?"
"It seems so. More so after I embarrassed kinn in front of the gods and everyone else before the parade."
"If you thought that was bad, he's not so vocal about it in public, but he used to be the same way to me a while before you joined, Lyle," Ian interjected. "One day, he decided to target me. Like Erin, I stood up to him, but physically. I socked him square in the beak. That stopped him from doing it publicly, but that didn't privately. There was nobody to help me from getting my ass kicked then..."
"I guess that's why everyone hates him with a passion," Lyle said, walking over to the railing and looking down at the water moving past the side of the ship. "How ironic would it be if he was the first one to get killed in combat? I don't wish that on anybody, but as much as he touted himself as one that is most likely to survive, it would only be the upmost irony."
"Then the gods will laugh at his arrogance," Erin deadpanned.
They stood there in silence for a bit before being interrupted by the sound of musical instruments coming from the bow of the ship. Curiously, they made their way to the bow. Soldiers who were musically inclined that managed to bring their instruments were playing them with all on deck as their audience. It was quickly thrown together a string band that was doing a swell job of putting on a show. The song that they played was one that was unique to them, an original composition. They were unfortunate in that the song that they had been singing was now over, but they were able to hear the next one.
"Okay, we got another one for you," the bandleader said, "we don't really have a name for this one yet, but we do have a song. Hit it, fellas!" As he said that, the instruments came to life. Guitars both acoustic and bass, a fiddle, and surprisingly a small set of drums to the bewilderment to all.
"In our hands we hold the future,
as we live so, we will die.
Carry on to save our kind.
Back to back, we stand as one,
until the last crusade is done.
We are leaving from the night.
Call for vengeance, raise you steel
we are headed for eternal life
we are the knights on our glory ride
freedom for us all
Lo, defenders! raise your swords
in endless agony
we are the knights on the glory ride
freedom for us all
All hail to the gods of creation
all hail to the king of our world
all hail to the metal invasion
a heavenly kingdom on earth."
The song continued for another few minutes with regularly repeating verses. When the band ended, they received an ovation from all those in the audience. Even though they had only been traveling for three days now, it was a sweet return home, even if it was for five or so minutes. While it was a clear break of protocol for them to do what they did, those in officer positions took no action against it; instead, they were encouraging it. The Long Road now had a performing band.
Nobody for a moment thought of how fragile such a group would be when they arrived on the shores of the Dragon Realms. Out of the five members of the rag-tag group, one was in the cavalry along with Lyle and his friends, two of them were with the infantry, and the last one was with an artillery unit. Out of all of them, the one most likely to survive was the one in the artillery, but there was never a certainty that even he would survive. For now, though, nobody cared if they would make it to the end of the war or not. They were too preoccupied with the catchy tune they had sung.
/\/\/\
Running escort to the transport and supply ships was the cruisers of the Royal Quillian Navy. These were brand new ships thanks to the growth of industry following the wake of the Dark Army's defeat. Powered by steam engines and built of steel, they were the absolute newest asset that the military had at this time. Their engines were running at maximum fuel-efficiency thanks to the slow speed of the sailboats keeping the steamers from going too fast. That didn't bother them though as they had colliers to refill their coal bunkers in they were to run low.
The ship they were on was a light cruiser named Red Peak, named so after the iron-rich mountains that sourced the iron to make the steel. They had a basic and balanced armament layout. Six, six-inch guns were the primary armaments of the ship, with two of the cannons being on the upper weather deck and two mounted in casements on either side of the ship on the lower weather deck. Their secondary armament consisted of four, five-inch guns with two guns mounted on each side of the ship in casements on the same deck as the larger caliber guns. With enough cooperation, they could rain down shells onto an enemy ship with ease. If it were a heavy cruiser, those apposed would be experiencing a significant emotional event as their ship would be ripped apart by an even more torrential volley of shells.
Ryan had joined the navy a few months before the arrival of Cynder to their kingdom and was one of those that were placed in a more favorable position of a topside six-inch gunner. His logic behind that was that if there was a catastrophic explosion that occurred on the ship, he was more likely to be flung from the boat in the blast and survive than being in the machining spaces or magazines where said explosion might take place. Either way, he was happy where he was currently. However, that didn't mean that he was unwilling to take a promotion to another ship.
The dream of his career was to be on one of the fancy battleships under construction in shipyards right now. These behemoths of steel were the peak of the Royal Quillian Navy – that was when they get launched. He was lucky to get a glimpse at one almost ready for launch before leaving port for the convoy of ships that they now protected. Envy filled him as he saw just how large the ship was compared to his. It also filled him with fear as those twelve-inch guns would shred through the ship he was on with no problem whatsoever.
Deep down, Ryan almost pitied the dragons in that regard. Of what intelligence information was given back to them so far, the dragons themselves had no use for a navy of any sort, but those canines that they heard of did in some capacity. Not only were they excellent shipbuilders, but skilled at crewing them too. If what they heard was correct, their ship was still of wood construction, calling into question if the use of armor-piercing shells was vital if they were still lagging behind. It was deemed to keep the shells anyway. If war brought anything other than death and destruction, it was the break-neck pace of innovation. It was considered that in a prolonged conflict – the chances of which were predicted to be sixty-four percent – those in the Dragon Realms would possess ships capable of successfully fighting against those in the Royal Navy.
It was a scary thought to think of; the dragons and their allies being able to fight back against their ships effectively one day. All that did was put pressure on the navy, including the setting of goals that would be hard to achieve in the amount of time given for each objective to be completed. They would have to neutralize all naval threats and bombard marine assets ever within three years. That would be fine if it wasn't for so much ocean to cover and not enough new ships in the navy to go about performing that task. Taking into consideration the losses that they would eventually receive, Ryan figured roughly that they would need to run sorties every day to fulfill the admiralty's wish. The only thing that he could do was pray that everything was going to be alright.
Terrador went forth in front of the leaders of the Dragon Army. He once was in their shoes, commanding many and even his very own unit throughout the war against the Dark Army. Strangely as it was, he was no longer the head of operations but was still looked to as the de facto leader of the dragon's forces. There was a diverse range of dragons gathered, all of the various scale colors and elemental powers. They all sat together in a circle in the training room with the doors locked. The meeting room had already been occupied by the other guardians going over civil and governing matters.
"As you already know, I have brought you here today to discuss matters of the security of the Dragon Realms," Terrador said in his booming voice, "There is a new menace that lurks among us and seeks to destroy us. Not a force of apes, but a force of hawks."
There was a hushed murmur of all of those in the group. It was apparent that no matter how hard they tried to keep it suppressed, they just couldn't believe what Terrador had just muttered. He saw this and proceeded to expand further on the situation. There was no guarantee that they would believe him.
"Allow me to explain. The first indication of this threat was the warning given to us, thanks to the Chronicler. All of the fellow guardians, as well as Cynder, have received the same message. Second to note is that the Cheetah tribes have already observed them, at least from some distance away. Lastly, we have two eyewitnesses who had come under attack by these creatures. If you don't believe the first two, then I have invited the two eyewitnesses to this gathering to bring forth their testimony."
Terrador walked over to one of the locked doors and proceeded to unlock it and invite those on the other side into the room. Both were green dragons. One an older female with noticeable signs of injury on her left front leg and burns on her right flank. Although these wounds had been healed by red gems, it would take a while before the scaring would go away. The other was a small child with no sign of long-lasting injuries. Terrador greeted them with a nod and allowed them to come to sit within the circle.
"I'm glad that you could join me, Mrs. Petra. Same to you, Granite." He spoke in a very welcoming tone.
"I prefer to go by Grant if you don't mind," the little child said as a worry-free expression. He was too young to understand formalities like this. That didn't stop his mother from shooting him a hateful glare. "Actually, just call me by my real name for the time being."
"Very well, then. I brought you both here to allow you to testify in front of our military leaders what happened to you and your son. Over the past many days, we have been getting warnings that something involving these creatures is coming, and we want all available information from you as possible." There was an uncomfortable silence as the most powerful – at least politically – dragons in Warfang sat around them. The generals would remain in silence while they answered the questions that would be given out be Terrador.
"I guess I might as well explain what happened," Petra said with a slight pain in her voice. The memories of what happened were still fresh on her mind. "Granite wanted to see where the old dragon temple was – he idolized you Terrador and wanted to see where you once lived. Under my strict supervision, I deemed it okay for us to go there as any potential dangers we might have encountered there is something that I could handle without a problem. Once we made it to the ruins of the site, he asked if it was okay for him to explore around the site, which I trusted him to be safe it what he did. I heard him scream for help, not a minute later, and that's when it all began."
"So, Granite wanted to explore what was left of the old temple. When did these hawks attack you and your son?"
"Well," She paused, getting lost in a train of thought. "I don't really think that they attacked us. I think it was more defending themselves against us than anything else." That remark got a whole lot of lifted eyebrows from the generals in the room. Even Terrador was confused by this revaluation.
"How do you believe that it was self-defense when clearly you came out more injured after their small fight?" Terrador said with his head cocked sideways. The green dragoness was ready to fully express her opinion.
"Being in the infirmary has given me time to do some thinking, and it makes sense from a logical standpoint," the green dragoness remarked. "Of what my son was able to see, they were taking shelter in a crater, sitting on chunks of stone pillars for benches, and roasting a wild bore over a spit. They were equally scared of us and did what they did in a reactionary measure.
"They pounced on my boy and grabbed him by the snout to keep him from screaming any more as that would attract more attention to their presence. When I got to the rim of the crater that they were hiding in, they were all frozen in fear, especially when they saw me on the rim. When I blasted the one on top of my son with an earth shot, they moved and spoke frantically. That's when I was shot in the leg by one with a crossbow. I believe if they were out to kill us, they would have been in a much better position to that rather than cooking their meal over a campfire.
"My injuries, the crossbow bolt was the only one that was inflicted by them in their quick attempt to flee from the scene. It was after I was shot that I collapsed and rolled down the crater walls and into their cooking fire accidentally, contrary to the rumors that said I was intentionally burned. Granite was not hurt by them other than how tightly they were holding his snout closed. Everything else was because of the tumble down the rim and into the crater below."
All in attendance were silently pondering what do to from here. Sure, they had more than enough evidence to show that the Buteos were a hostile species to dragons – but with Petra's change of heart on how she saw the nature of the attack, it was harder to sell the idea to those that can actually do something about it. Granite continued to sit there in complete silence. He eventually spoke up after his mother's short monologue.
"Yeah. I went to that crater in particular because I saw smoke from it and wondered what could be burning there in the mushroom forests. I slipped and fell down in the crater where I saw them and screamed for help. That's when one tackled me with a knife in his one hand, but he never used it."
Terrador now had to reckon with this new point that perhaps this encounter, while enough to provoke a response, was not enough for the generals to begin mobilization of the Dragon Army. He wasn't sure if it was enough for even their closest allies to come aboard with the mobilization either. He eyed the generals who were started to talk among themselves on the matter. There were so many conversations that it was hard for the aging Earth Guardian to keep up with it all. All he could do was pray to the ancestors that they would make a decision in favor of preparing their forces for war. It was about ten minutes later when the voiced quieted down. Terrador eagerly awaited the response from the military leaders.
One of them stood out to represent them all. This, of course, was the highest-ranking of them all with the command of all forces in the Dragon Army. "Due to the testimony of Mrs. Petra and her son, we have concluded that there is something here lurking in the realms. However, we cannot be certain that these creatures represent the threat that you have let them on to be. However, they are still a danger being posed by them. With that, we will approve of a limited mobilization and will reassess if more or less is needed. That is our final decision."
"Very well. Let out meeting be adjourned," Terrador said, trying not to show his disappointment. He was hoping for something much more than a limited mobilization, but there was nothing that could be done about that now. The brains of the operation had spoken and their word was final. It was, however, still a better action than nothing at all.
Once everyone left, including Petra and her son, he was left alone in the dojo. He let out a heavy sigh. He was hoping for a full mobilization, although, as they had said, it would be hard to warrant with what little evidence of malicious intent that the Guardian had at their disposal. If the Chronicler showed up in the dreams tonight, then maybe the full order would have a chance. But until then, they would have to make do with a limited force to defend the entirety of the Dragon Realms. He worried that if the Buteos were to make significant territorial advances between the limited and full mobilization, they would gain a permanent foothold. And depending on just how much land is captured, could sustain their invasion force from that land alone.
With the invasion now underway, it was time for the intelligence report from the network of spies to inform the Royal Army command. If they were to be successful, or at least have some successes, the information would be needed, and that's what the spy network was sent out to do. In anticipation of the invasion, the espionage agents were dispatched months before to gather as much information as they could that would assist them. That was a much harder task to do than what anyone expected it to be.
First was the issue of actually getting them there. Naturally, the only viable option was to sail there as the flight would have been too risky due to exhaustion. They sailed for the most part and took advantage of the numerous islands in between Traeblesh and the Dragon Realms as jumping-off points. Nevertheless, the task was done, and now the information was gathered. In the Royal Palace, an intelligence liaison – the head of the operation to be exact – prepared himself to deliver the report to not only the military staff but the monarchs as well.
In his clutches was an overview of a much larger intelligence report that would be distributed out before the presentation. Overall, he was unsure how well the audience would react to the results of his network's progress. There was only one way to find out, and that was to begin the presentation and see their reactions for himself. The room was well lit with magic lanterns giving off their luminescent glow. Seated at a table in a semi-circular formation, was everyone that was in some form of command position. In the face of all of this, the intelligence liaison was visibly nervous.
He took his place at a podium in the center of the formation. Aids of the presentation began to pass out printed copies of the report in its entirety – a bound booklet of about one-hundred or more pages. Almost everyone in attendance was looking for a timepiece to see just how long that they had before they had to leave for other events. This didn't bother the liaison as he had the report well-organized and would be easy to navigate through. Placing down the overview on the podium, he began his presentation.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope that you are all doing well. After months of work, this is the fruits of our labor, the intelligence report. To save on time, I will hit the high notes and give brief but descriptive overviews and leave the rest of it you to read at your discretion. Without further ado, let us begin."
Little did they know that he would go fast without much room for them to interject. The seated audience opened up their copies of the report to the table of contents. In there was an impressive diversity of topics that were observed, ranging from geography to the ecology and edibility of native plants.
"First, I think that thing that we all want to hear is the information about the population. Our assumptions about the dragons were that they lived entirely on a carnivorous diet. We learned, however, that it was not the case. Through observation, we've come to the conclusion that they are just as omnivorous as we are – having the ability to digest plants but more able to digest meat. How does that relate to the population you might ask. Well, it matters a lot, actually. Because they have a sustainable source of food, their populations can grow much faster than a solely carnivorous diet because there is no need to continually hunt for food that takes years to yield ample sustenance.
"Another thing to note is the size of the Dragon Realms. The continent of Traeblesh is a little over four million square miles, the Dragon Realms as a political entity encompasses roughly six-and-a-half million square miles according to mathematical calculations. And with what information we have on dragon settlements and their populations and distribution, we have calculated that the number of dragons in the Dragon Realms is about five million or more."
The room erupted into a massive uproar of questions that he was unprepared to answer. Left and right were screaming to try to get his attention, but he would not yield to an unruly crowd, even if his job depended on his cooperation with them. He pressed on like he planned on doing.
"Both figures are mathematical calculation, and therefore might be over or under the actual amount. As you know, there are twenty-seven million Buteos according to the latest census data, so we outnumber them in raw numbers. That is not to say that it will be easy; the dragons have several allies on their side that we have discovered. Closely allied are a species of moles that supply their craftsmanship and tribes of cheetahs – anatomically similar to us – although not all of them are totally aligned with the dragons. It is unknown at this time if other felines align themselves with the dragons.
"Another interesting finding is that there are multiple kingdoms of canines that exist within the Dragon Realms. These canines range from wolves, foxes, and even coyotes. We don't have much information about their specifics, but we know that just like the cheetahs in that, some are aligned while others are not. Another species that we have discovered is the Atlawa. We aren't really sure what they are, but they seem independent. Out of all of these species, we have options. The strongest opposition aside from dragons might be the kingdom of canines as they are more organized than the tribal nature of the cheetahs and the fuck-all that is the Atlawa. However – if you want to take this route – they would be our strongest allies."
He flipped the pages of his report to the section that would make a prolonged expedition possible: the survey of natural resources. The network of spy knew this one well as they depended on the resources there at their disposal. They had become survival experts in that they knew how to survive in an ecosystem that evolved differently to that of their own.
"When it comes to natural resources, this is where I encourage you all to read further on this subject. The plant life there can be a mixed bag as sometimes they want to act like plants and sometimes they don't. Agents scouting out a swampy area reported that there were instances of plant-like animals, but have only seen them in that area. Anyway, most of the vegetation is safe to eat, with some requiring preparation while others are ready to eat straight away. Having to forage off the land will be an easy task. Along with that, the resources needed to be extracted from the ground are plentiful with areas standing out, such as a string of heavily volcanic mountains with extraction operations once occurring; the sight is now abandoned. Other regions of intrigue are being explored as we speak, so a revision will eventually be printed off and delivered to you when that information comes to light.
"To wrap this up, I want to talk about the geography of the area that is supposed to be the landing zone. I want to make clear that these cliffs range in height depending on their location, obviously, but the location chosen to disembark the soldiers is a gradual slope that leads up from the cliffs and into the hilly plains that lie beyond. IF we can swiftly attack and march inland, we might be able to advance far enough inland that we can form a solid foothold in the Dragon Realms that will make us hard to dislodge. I will leave the rest of the report up to you to read. Long live the king, long live the kingdom."
With that, the intelligence liaison left the podium and the room altogether, leaving the rest of the occupants of the room to read over the publication that they were handed out earlier. There was still more work to be done. The message had to be sent to the agents back in the Dragon Realms to begin their sabotage operations. This would be a risky move for them to make. If they started their works too soon, then the might of the Dragon Army would be ready for the invasion force as they would be tipped off. If they were too late, then they would be no real discernible advantage.
Even then, there was so much land to cover in the Dragon Realms that there was no telling if any sabotage operations would be effective or not. If anything, they would act more like raiding groups than saboteurs. To the head of the intelligence operation, as long as they were doing something to better their war efforts later on, then he would be content with his task and label it a success.
/\/\/\
Just like he had promised, Bradan returned to the woods to take care of the spruce tree just like he said that he would. On a bar across his shoulders, he carried buckets of water with bags of wood mulch tied to the bar as well. It was an arduous hike to the hilltop, but he finally reached it. Gingerly, he let the bar down onto the ground and took a brief moment to rest. He might have been a soldier long ago and might still have a somewhat active lifestyle, but that didn't mean that he was still in peak condition that he was before.
Carefully, he watered the spruce tree, making sure to distribute the water all around the trunk. Then, he applied a liberal amount mulch around it where he watered. It wasn't anything in terms of adding nutrients to the soil, but it would help with ground retaining water. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing at all. With what he came to do being accomplished, he laid down on the soft grass next to the spruce tree. He couldn't help but feel an off sense of peacefulness that came from being in the woods around him.
"I don't know if you can hear me or not as you are, but regardless it allows me to vent my frustrations and pent-up emotions," Bradan said softly, "and it's not like if anyone finds me talking out here that they would think that I'm talking to you. I didn't tell anyone what I did with you; I hear their whispers, they think that I just released you without a vessel."
Only the wind in the trees and the sounds of nature replied to his ears.
"You probably hate me with all of your being, don't you? If you don't, then I do. At first, I was enthusiastic about the possibilities of what that accidental discovery had to offer, another step closer to discovering the secrets of the divine. Now I regret ever telling anyone about the process of manipulating souls. It eats me up from the inside, knowing that I will most likely be ordered to do it again. Even worse is that if I leave, I'm the only one with enough knowledge on the subject to perform it correctly." Little did he know of the irony of that statement. He paused his speaking, giving the impression of allowing the dragon-in-the-tree to give a reply back.
"And the fucked up thing about it is that it's so gods damned easy to do too. There are no repercussions, no limits, just keep on as much as you fucking want as long as you want! Worse yet is that the cat is already out of the bag. Even if I go and burn all of my notes, kill everyone on the team along with myself, there is already enough information floating out there by now to pick up the pieces and do it again with enough time. Worldly magic seems to have no effect whatsoever on the process at all, just the knowledge on that Mysterious Energy how to perform it, so anyone could do it."
There was no reply but the sounds of the forest around him.
"I joined this profession years ago because I thought that I could put my skills to use for good rather than to kill. We honed our magical skills, discovered the wondrous powers of alchemy, made decades – no, centuries worth of progress in just two decades. Now here I am again, using my skills for evil things."
…
"Anyway, the invasion has begun, or at least the trip going there has. The ships are expected to reach the Dragon Realms in three to four weeks, maybe sooner had there not been and damn sailboats involved. I know it's not the news that you want to hear, but it's not like you can really do anything about it now. Right now, it's a single regiment or around five-thousand soldiers. You might think that it's not that bad, but that's only a fraction of what the Royal Army's numbers are.
"I am uncertain about how this war will go, although I can assure you this: we Buteos, are stubborn creatures. We would fight beak and talon to death if our lives depended on it. I'm not sure though just how effective our fighting forces will be against trained dragon warriors, but they will fight on even in dire circumstances. Nevertheless, it has begun, and I see no way of stopping it now."
Bradan got off the ground and onto his feet, dusting himself off in the process. He slowly began to walk away from the tree before something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. It was something that had not been seen in twenty years: spirit gems. Four gem clusters had grown since he last visited. His mood visibly improved as he walked over to examine the cluster of gemstones. There were four clusters of gems, each of them a different color: green, red, blue, and purple.
He did not break them now, instead deciding to come back another day when he could carry more back to the laboratory in the palace for further study. The implications of this "new" discovery were that now a new generation of magic practitioners could come along and assist the older generation with the studies of their abilities. With the production of red gems, there was now the possibility of utilizing its properties for their benefit as well, perhaps even extending the life of other Buteos with its properties. What stood out to him for future study was the blue and purple gems. They had only ever been seen from a distance as the dragons of the Dark Army was keen on making sure that no blue or purple gems were left behind. He was eager to unearth the secrets of their properties and how that can affect fellow avian magic practitioners.
Giving a content nod, he walked back over to where he had his buckets of water and sacks of mulch. This time, the bar was much easier to pick up without the weight of water and wood chips. "If you can hear me, Cynder, I bid you farewell." He walked back down the faint trail that had been carved out by his previous times up to that hilltop. He walked down the hill and back towards the official walking trail, unaware that every word that he said was heard by the dragon in the tree, and that she was fuming as he left
/\/\/\
Hours had passed. Cynder remained where she had been for the previous days: on the hilltop in the shade of the spruce tree, It was not a whole lot to do but lie down on the ground and twiddle thumbs until something happened. She had to admit it a relaxing break from life. But the Quillian invasion of the Dragon Realms was always on her mind – or the thoughts of what she could have done differently to avoid being in this given situation. In the end, it was hard to accept that this was the reality that she now faced.
The little thing that called itself a "dryad" kept showing up every now and then only to be shooed away. Even then, Cynder could see it watching her intently and with curiosity from a distance. As long as it wasn't going to pester her regularly, then she was going to be okay. To her slight disappointment, Astris came back again once more, but this time with others. Cynder gave a long, drawn-out sigh of pent-up irritation. They still took the appearance of dragons, sharing the same shades of green all over just like Astris.
Cynder blankly stared at them as they finally came to a stop five feet in front of her. "More Dryads?"
One of the grown ones nodded. "Yes. Astris had told us about you. We've kept a watchful eye on you ever since you've taken the place on one of our own. How did you go about doing that?" It asked intently, almost accusatory.
"Not like I had a choice getting here — well, I did actually — but it doesn't have anything to do the loss of your kind."
"Explain."
"Let's see, well, I come here to this place to stop a conflict in advance. That didn't work out too well. The Buteos — the hawk things — said they need a better way to keep me a prisoner, so they turned my body to stone and took my soul and put it here. There, that's my tragic sob-story."
"I see..."
"You got a name? I assume you know mine already."
"Iveyci."
"And the other one beside you?"
The other Dryad mentioned looked at her and said with a hushed voice: "I'm Frasia."
"Don't worry about her, Cyndie, she's shy," Astris quickly interjected. Out of all of the names that she had been called, the least that Cynder expected was Cyndie.
"So, what happened to the dryad I 'replaced,' what happened to them?"
"We ourselves are unsure. They just... vanished. And you've taken their place. That tree right there," Iveyci pointed to the evergreen, "was home to one of us. They have not been seen since you appeared attached to it."
Cynder swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. Surely they must be grieving over their lost friend? She had no idea how to comfort others; only Spyro, who she consoled through affection and practical musings. These creatures were all new to her – she didn't know how they dealt with loss or how to begin to console them. "I'm sorry..." Then she got an idea. "Maybe they're just stuck inside? Since I'm attached... Maybe only one of us can be out at a time." As she spoke, she realized how silly it sounded. But maybe it held an inkling of truth?
"Then, let's see you try to go in your then."
As much as Cynder tried, all she was able to do was phase right through it. It was almost comical watching her try and fail over and over again. While the other 'adult' dryads watched on, amused by her attempts, Astris was keeled over on the ground laughing. The laughter was more than enough for an already irritated Cynder to shoot her a hateful look. Astris remained unfazed by it, tickling her more in the process.
Frasia broke her silence and spoke up. "You'll have to excuse the young one. She's just a sprouted acorn," she deadpanned. Really? A sprouted acorn?
"It's... alright." Cynder gave Frasia a polite smile. If these Dryads were the only company she was going to get for a while, she might as well respect them, especially since she was in their home. And, as far as they knew, she was responsible for causing one of them to disappear. She sat down by her tree, defeated, and sighed. "I can't stay here like this. My city needs me..." Her tail swished in discomfort.
"Since you are stuck here for the foreseeable future, tell us, what is that city of yours like? We hear from Dryads from what the Buteos call 'Castletown' every now and then, speaking about life in the city and how they can casually observe everything without being noticed at all."
That comment only served to rub salt in Cynder's wound. Castletown – the capital of the Kingdom of Quillum and home of the royal family – was miles away. If a Dryad could travel that far from the tree that they inhabit, call home, or whatever, then why couldn't she just go any more now that fifty or so feet? Her reasonable mind kicked in and formed a likely explanation. The Dryads were not bound to their trees like she was to this one. They could go as far as they wanted so long as they returned to it, as evident by the lack of an ethereal connection to their respective trees like Cynder to hers. She thought about the question that Iveyci asked and how properly go about explaining it to them. She came up with her answer.
Cynder mused for a moment, pondering the best way to describe it. "It's like a city of gold... Well, mostly sandstone, but lots of gold too. Worn stone roads, quite lively at times since the war ended..." She looked down at her claws. War was closer again than she ever could have imagined. "It's... Really nice there. Lots of species live together. Dragons and moles, and canines, and even a cheetah here and there, though they mostly live in villages down in the valley. The marketplace is booming, with shipments from all over the realms coming in and going out. It's like an all-new city compared to what it was like during the Dark War. It's too bad it's just going to be beaten into the dust again..." 'No,' she thought. 'I can't let that happen.'
"It sounds like a paradise to you mortal creatures, a fantastic place for sure. Wealthy too at that. It would certainly be a shame if such a place were to lie in ruin." Iveyci said unemotionally, an almost polar opposite to Cynder. "But you mentioned this 'Dark War.' Is this the same one as the Buteo's fought twenty years ago or just a naming coincidence?"
Cynder looked up and nodded solemnly. "The Dark War was started by the purple dragon Malefor. He wanted to destroy the world... To create a new one that he would rule. I didn't know until recently that the Buteos had been attacked. I didn't even know who the Buteos were." She dipped her head again to avoid the dryads' eyes and curled her tail over her paws in a guarded fashion. "Even when I was his first in command..." She spoke the last part quietly, still ashamed of her past, but also feeling foolish. How could she possibly have not known about the attacks on the Buteos? Did Malefor keep quiet about it so that she wouldn't stray too far from the realms? Too far... from him?
All of the Dryads there exchanged looks at one another after that recent revelation. It was had to notice their silent judgment. "You? In command of the Dark Armies? You barely look old enough to be alive when the events here transpired." Iveyci replied back more in confusion than in any form of anger.
Frasia broke her silence once again. "So that was why the world broke apart... we lost quite a few to that. Perhaps you being in the dark, no pun intended, was a blessing in disguise. Word can travel around fast between us Dryads, and we all collectively know more than any of you mortals could ever want to know." She paused for a brief moment, eyeing Iveyci, almost as if to ask for permission to speak. Iveyci nodded, and Frasia turned back to Cynder.
"The truth is that the Buteos had become an extremely formidable force to be reckoned with, even back then. You have to understand that the Buteos successfully fought back four field armies, which if you truly the first in command of the dark army, is two-hundred thousand soldiers apiece, a total of six-hundred thousand Ape soldiers. The Buteos only had two field armies to work with, as well as various militia groups organized by ordinary citizens. On top of that, they were able to slay twenty-three dragons of the Dark Army in two months. Once the remaining dragons left, they slaughtered the many remaining apes that could not escape."
If there were as many Dryads as Frasia, Iveyci, and Astris was letting on, then perhaps they were truly the most reliable source of information. Assuming that for each tree, a nature spirit lived in it, then there could be hundreds if not thousands of witnesses to a single event. While that was great in terms of credibility, that was not the information that Cynder was looking for. It only increased the amount of dread she had.
"What Frasia is trying to say, Cynder," Iveyci cut off Frasia, looking disappointed that her train of thought had been cut off like it did, "The invasion of Traeblesh was the biggest mistake that the Dark Army had ever made. Keeping it quiet from you was probably to keep you from coming back here when he knew that the Buteos were able to slay his most valuable assets. And if he was going to destroy the world anyway, then why bother with a bunch of hawks in a far-off place?"
Cynder tapped her claws on the ground in thought. "You're right. That does make sense." She sighed. "I wish there was something I could have done. Anything..." She let her shoulders drop and met each dryad's gaze, trying to convey all the apologies she couldn't get out in words through her own eyes.
"Why so sad-looking, Cyndie?" Astris said, utterly oblivious to what had just been said, most likely not able to understand what the conversation was about in the first place. "You didn't do anything wrong to us to get sad over. We didn't even know you until now." The innocents from the youthful little spirit were more than enough to warm even the coldest of hearts.
Cynder felt a pang in her heart at the little dryad's innocence. Although, perhaps there was a bit of truth to it. Cynder didn't have much of a choice in being shoved into a tree, and she didn't know anything about the Dryads beforehand either. Although she could help but blame herself a little, Astris, the first truly friendly face she'd seen since she came to this continent, truly didn't think that she had done anything wrong. Even the news that she had once been the general of a great evil army hadn't shaken this spirit's... well, spirit. Cynder couldn't help but give Astris a small smile. "Well, since I'm likely going to be stuck here a while, I'm glad I've got a little company."
"So we are friends then?" The little spirit asked gleefully.
Cynder gave a playful huff, defeated. "I suppose we are." She laid down by her tree, crossing her front paws in front of her and letting her wings fold comfortably at her sides.
"Yay!" The Dryad, with all her youth, ran forth filled with energy and playfully jumped on Cynder, uncaring that she had gotten comfortable or not. Despite the spirit being incorporeal, there was a weight behind her pounce, not much, but that of a hatchling. "Thank you so very much!" Everyone there to bear witness to it couldn't help but smile. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all.
Ignitus didn't know where to begin. There had been instances of the Buteos already in the Dragon Realms taking aggressive actions against dragons, more so defensively or opportunistically that intentional. On top of that, the Elemental Guardians and the military staff of the Dragon Army had begun mobilization – although not big enough to counter the looming threat. He cursed at those ignorant generals. Then again, Ignitus had not contacted them in their dreams yet, so it was not entirely their fault. Another blunder on his part.
He looked over with contempt at the stack of books that he had willed forth to document the progress of this war. It was the thought that the peaceful age that he was supposed to silently look over was taken away so quickly and replaced with such a cataclysmic event that would require ten stacks of book with ten in each – all the while having ten thousand pages a piece – that would equal out to an offensively large one-million pages. He pushed aside his resentment and began to document all that he had been able to see. He willed forth a book from the top of the stack and cracked it open. He left the first one-hundred pages blank to leave room for retroactive editing on the origins of the war; while he only had jurisdiction over dragons, we would try to give the Buteos an equal representation when he had their side of the story available.
He began with the journey of Cynder and how, in an attempt to challenge fate, flew out to the far-off continent. He was meticulous in every detail, looking back on the Books of Time to her life to see just exactly all that she was thinking and doing. What troubled him was that there was what seemed to be her inaction in the week before her petrification. It was in the pages of the book of her life that he had gotten the answer. Her inaction was a measure to ensure that the invasion was no worse than it already would be as any more actions that she could have done after her attack on the Royal Family would have only increased the Quillian war effort and savagery while fighting. If her attack was enough to re-galvanize the kingdom's populace with anti-dragon hate, then there was no telling what would happen if she did anything further. As dumb of an action that looked at face value, it was a strategic move that saved countless lives.
Next was the story of Petra and her son Granite, or Grant, as he preferred to call himself. They were the first of many civilians that would be entirely uninvolved in the coming war but got wrapped up in it anyway. He was able to see and record the meeting that she was invited to as well. He shared her thoughts on what happened, and he had an absolute record to work with. The Buteos that Grant – quite literally – stumbled across showed no intention of killing or maiming him or his mother at all. Seeing he was able to see a replay of events that transpired in the pool of vision and their expressions and reactions were evident of that. Grant's screaming alerted Petra to her son's distress, resulting in one Buteo tackling him and holding his snout shut to keep from further screams from possibly alerting other dragons. The only thing aggressive that they did was shoot Petra in the leg with one of their crossbows, but only after she had blasted the one on top of her son, falling into their cooking fire was a total accident. Ignitus reasoned that she was one of the lucky ones that would get off with what injuries she had sustained.
Next and last was Terrador's meeting with the leadership of the Dragon Army. This went as predictable as he expected it to. Ignitus might have led his troops into battle, but even he had to answer to a higher authority. He knew these old farts well enough to know that they would think that this would be like another war against the Dark Army. They would be sorely mistaken. The apes were dumb creatures that relied on brute strength and savagery to win their fights. Of what he could piece together from the Quillians, they were intelligent and cunning, just as much as the dragons were, if not more. Regardless, he would have to communicate with them quickly, or they would face defeat after defeat using improper strategies and tactics against a new foe.
With all that he could document recorded, he bookmarked the page and levitated the book over to a lectern where he would continue to work on it vigilantly. Even though he had no need to sleep given his ascended status, Ignitus found himself eager for some. Out of all of the comforts that the Celestial Caves offered, a real bed was not one of them. Unfortunately, while he was able to will forth as much ink, quills, and books as he wanted, the aforementioned bed was not one of them. Until them, he would have to get comfortable lying on the cold, stone floor. Maybe in his dreams, the Ancestors would give him some guidance. It was ironic that the one that was to provide guidance was the one in need of it
Another nightmarish sequence, or rather opportunity to allow Spyro to experiment with his newfound abilities. After learning a few days ago that he was able to manifest his imagination in the pocket dimension of Dark Spyro. And with what was a literal lifetime in one night, he had more than enough time to practice. He knew for sure that he could manifest Astral Cynder again without trouble. He was able to render a meal to keep him from perpetually starving in this blank field that Dark Spyro had been keeping him in. Small things lead to more substantial things to the point where he was able to create a forest or mountain in the field. This inevitably lead to Dark Spyro getting irritated that his plan of driving him insane via isolation backfired. This night though, Dark Spyro had enough of the isolation not working and instead turned back to old fashioned torture to try and break the young purple dragon's spirit.
This, too, would backfire as Spyro was able to manifest whatever he wanted in the empty void where they did combat just like in the blank field. Instead of the usual one-sided one-versus-one that Dark Spyro was accustomed to, Spyro had help. It was the manifestation of Astral Cynder that came to his aid, which Dark Spyro was not prepared to handle. Truthfully, he was struggling.
"You are one crafty son of a bitch," Dark Spyro growled lowly, "I've fought off hundreds, nay, thousands at once before to get to where I am, but I was not expecting such difficulty thanks in part to you manifesting your play-thing."
"Don't you dare talk about her like that!" Spyro was taken aback momentarily by that Dark Spyro's statement. He was no stranger to his crude and downright foul language, but this struck a nerve that most other times did not.
"Protective, are we?"
"I can handle myself, Spyro," Astral Cynder quickly and snappily interjected. At an inhumanly (indragonly?) fast speed, she lunged forward and mauling the right side of Dark Spyro's face while he was distracted. He never once winced in pain or filched. Real or not, she certainly sounded like the real Cynder and dish out just as much damage just as well.
"That was awfully ballsy for someone to not have any," Dark Spyro remarked lewdly, lapping up the readily flowing blood with his tongue, savoring its taste. It appears that he had no obscenity filter either, "If you were real, I would rip your insides out."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Come on, Cynder," Spyro yelled, "We can end if we keep this up!" Both dragons readied themselves to deliver the finishing blows that would finally down their opponent. Dark Spyro took a defensive stance in preparation.
"Got it!"
"Now!"
The dragons began their assault on Dark Spyro. Astral Cynder, with blisteringly fast speeds, dealt numerous quick blows to the black dragon. The swift attacks from Astral Cynder kept him occupied with blocking, leaving windows of opportunity for Spyro to come in and deal much heavier blows. The strategy worked. It wasn't a short battle, though, progressing on for a half-hour or more. Blow by blow, the dark dragon eventually began to weaken, leaving even more opportunities for more devastating attacks. Dark Spyro finally collapsed into a pool of his own blood. It a twist of fate; it was Spyro's tailblade against Dark Spyro's throat instead of his. Astral Cynder standing by his side ready with some sort of breath attack in anticipation of some trick that Dark Spyro might pull.
"Go on, wimp, do it, you don't have the balls," He said to the purple dragon standing above him.
"Not yet. I have something to ask."
Dark Spyro's expression of pure hatred and contempt lessened slightly. What would the purple dragon gain from asking him a question? "Now's your chance, better make it quick before I decide no," he said plainly.
"Who are you exactly?"
"..."
"You aren't the dark side of me. You might look the part, but you think and act as if you are something else that. You are not what you pretend to be. So I ask, just who or what are you?"
"It took you long enough," Dark Spyro weakly chuckled, "Nyobaer..."
"Thank you for your cooperation. Now begone."
Spyro did the same to onto his dark reflection the same as he did onto him the first night. The form of Dark Spyro dissolved rapidly into a mist until there was nothing left. With that, the empty void that they fought in was finally empty, the beam of Dark Aether that served as the only source of illumination faded to nothing. The single source of light left was the pinpricks of light that constituted Astral Cynder's body. With their adversary defeated, they hugged each other in a prolonged embrace.
But that was not the end of it. Spyro felt it thanks to his powers over electricity: the nondescript air became heavy with static, more than enough to fluff out all the hair on a Cheetah. Then, a massive bolt of dark purple lightning struck near them. Wincing at the loud boom, they quickly panned their heads over to where the strike landed in time to see a silhouette of a figure illuminated by the bright flash of light. The figure stood maybe thirty or so feet away from them and stood tall over them. All that remained was red flaring eyes looking back at them, sending a wave of primordial fear through the both of them.
"I will concede defeat to you, Spyro. It seems that my plans have backfired and that you are not going to be easy to break as I thought. I will leave you be. That does NOT mean that I will stop. Next time, there will be no bitch to save you from me. Keep this in your mind!" The figure called out in a dark, sinister voice.
/\/\/\
It was still night time when Spyro woke up. He didn't move from his bed, the primal fear that he felt was still in full effect, even though there was not anything to be afraid of now. After laying their curled up, he eventually eased and got off of the bed cushion. He stretched any part of his body that could be, popping many joints while he was at it. If Dark Spyro held his word, then it would be the last time that he would have to worry about him disturbing him. He was half tempted to partake in underage drinking to celebrate. Then those words came echoing back to him. "Next time, there will be no bitch to save you from me."
He knew what Dark Spyro had meant when he said that. Cynder had been the only one that knew how to take him out of that darkened state. She was still gone. His moment of celebration was interrupted by the concerns of her well-being. Although Cynder was highly optimistic when she said that she would be back in two weeks, he was starting to wonder if the longer that she was over there, the higher the chance was that she would be caught. The thought of what those creatures might do to her was something that he didn't want to dwell on.
He pushed those thoughts away only for them to go back to what Dark Spyro said, or what was pretending to be Dark Spyro said. He had confirmation of what he expected: that whatever it was that was taking the form of Dark Spyro was pretending to be something that it wasn't. Remembering the brief glimpse at the silhouette that he saw from that bolt of dark purple lightning sent shivers from the base of his skull to the tip of tailblade. More mysterious was that he actually told Spyro its name, a name that would reverberate in his mind.
"Nyobaer..."
First off, I hope everyone had a merry Christmas and a happy new year.
Special thanks to SatelliteBlues for assisting in the creation of dialogue in this chapter! I really do appreciate the help that you gave. It certainly gave a lovely freshness to it.
Here it is, the last passive chapter before the real shit begins. I wasn't expecting to have both sides have a briefing on the subject of warfare, but I think that it works better for building the tension this round in a sort of "both sides are ready to roll" kind of fashion. Also, the song for this chapter sounded much better in theory but doesn't really fit for the whole thing, so maybe it's best just to play it where the rag-tag ship band plays it.
Also, I can already feel the comments about the large dragon population now. There is a reason for that, though. If the dragon population is low, then not only does that that mean that they cannot amass more soldiers against the Buteos, but they are less willing to send them into combat because of the implications of population loss. Yes, I am aware that the dragons were hunted in the games and faced a population crisis, but this is where I have to take some creative liberties.
–Abyssal