In the Wake of Devastation

The thick blanket of the night shielded any light from reaching the closed eyes of Spyro. That was what his conscious mind saw from within his unconscious body. The dulled out sounds of wings and crackling thunder, multiplied by a hundred-fold bounced off his numbed ears.

His senses were slowly returning to his aching body; his eyes reopening in a blurry mess. The purple dragon's head was hanging limply, facing the distant ground below as his awakening eyes tried focusing on the dark moving smudges below. Seconds later, his sight cleared itself enough for him to make out some shadowy trees. Immediately, the sensation and fear of falling overtook his frail mind.

He panicked as the speeding wind rushed around him. He desperately tried forcing his wings out, but something solid held him tight. A bleak death was fast approaching and he was unable to stop this terrible fate. Through his futile struggling, he realised he couldn't move any part of his body, he couldn't even open his maw to scream one last time.

In between outbursts of fright, the back of Spyro's mind swore over and over that this was all just a nightmare. But even though he tried telling himself that this wasn't real, it didn't make it any less terrifying.

He stared downwards once more with wide eyes and noticed that the ground wasn't getting closer…This made him question the situation more. Was he actually falling at all?

He tried hard to compose himself, regain control of his alarming heart beat. This allowed him to better grasp his senses. He soon realised that the extreme wind he was feeling was not from him falling, but instead from travelling through the air at a rapid pace. He could also feel a strange warmness pushed up against most of his body, it felt bony and hard; whatever it was, held him firmly and refused to budge.

Spyro's attention was finally drawn to the irritating noise attacking his ears, the endless flapping sinking into his mind. He raised his head see what was going on.

Hundreds of dragons of all elements and colours flew straight and true in the direction of the city that was once Warfang. Spyro's eyes shrank into his head as he tried to fathom what happened. The last memory he had was him and Cynder underneath the falling debris… What happened? He had far too many questions: how long was he out for, was the realm saved, and how did all these dragons get here?

His mind was swimming in these queries when he noticed the constricting pressure around his chest grow. He turned his head upwards to see a large yellow dragon with a lividus underbelly carrying him. A name immediately sprang to mind, but his bounded mouth prevented him from making a sound, preventing him from being able to communicate with the great electric guardian.

However, the observant guardian was well aware that the purple dragon had stirred. Spyro couldn't see the sad expression the electric dragon wore on his face, for it pained him greatly to do this to Spyro. This is because Volteer didn't want to believe that Spyro was evil, even though the evidence was there; ever since first viewing the rage and power that was Dark Spyro. Volteer had researched tirelessly for a cure to Spyro's condition but to no avail. He, like everyone else, was oblivious to the fact that the darkness that once plagued the purple dragon had been subsided, that the Spyro he and everyone else admired had returned.

Regardless the weary guardian's work was nowhere near done: he still needed to explain and convince Cyril there was a chance to restore Spyro, to actually find a way to be rid the evil incarnation, restore order to the citizens of Warfang.

Spyro fell into a mix of relaxation and worry. He was trapped both in body and mind; his body restrained by claws and his mind chained in questions. However, he didn't use this time to reflect and worry, for the answer he sought was in front of him. Despite not being able to restore the realm, his evil self was stopped as was Umbrafor - that was what mattered right no.

Instead his worry fell to Cynder…the last memory he had was her trying to kill both of them, and what about Charditus and the others? But again, he was left with no answers and no way to ask.

His mind fell silent, his eyes staring ahead at nothing. He felt empty inside: no emotions, no thoughts. Solely the lightness that a great burden had been taken off him - his guilt perhaps? Even the constant rumble of wings and thunder that sounded through his head fell null.

Spyro's unresponsiveness was interrupted when a voice of a certain adult, ice dragon, shattered the silence to speak to his fellow guardian, he did not sound happy.

"What in the bedevilling name is he doing alive, Volteer?" Venom was present in his pompous tone, a poison that corroded Spyro's emotions as he realised Cyril was talking about him.

"I apologise sincerely for my deceit, nonetheless, I didn't embrace your confidence that Spyro was unsalvageable. Nevertheless, I completely, utterly, fully assure you that I have him entirely caught with minimalistic exposure to harm to us."

Volteer shifted the paw holding Spyro into Cyril's view for him to clearly see Spyro was unable to do anything. A thick strip of leather was wrapped multiple times around his maw. Spyro stared back with pleading eyes.

"You incompetent fool, the monster doesn't have an evil condition that can just be…plucked out. He is the monster that nearly destroyed the world like the purple dragon before, and he must be killed off, now!"

Spyro sensed there was a huge disagreement between the two, and he could guess the source of it by their three sentences alone. On the one hand, Cyril believes the longer Spyro lived, the more danger he posed beyond his attempted destruction. In contrast to Volteer, who believed there must be away to bring the old Spyro back. It gave him some slight hope, that if Volteer could convince Cyril to at least allow Volteer to continue his research, that Spyro will be able show him that he was already back to his innocent self.

"There is no requirement of unnecessary force. I have quarantined the dragon," Volteer countered. He is aware of Spyro's attempt on the planet, and that concerned the dragon greatly. But Volteer was a dragon of science and possibilities, and he believed now Spyro was securely contained he could experiment properly to see if he could separate the once benevolent youngling from the entangled darkness.

"With a shoddy leather strap? Have you truly gone on a tangent, Volteer?!"

"You blithering blue serpent! Of course, I wouldn't jeopardise our own protection with only an antediluvian hardware. I have also incorporated an intricate piece of technology that stops any endeavour of elemental discharge."

Those words made Cyril halt his anger, he inspected the purple dragon's neck, and if responding to Volteer's words, the jade serpent made itself visible for a second before becoming ethereal. Now while Cyril still thought Volteer was a disillusioned fool, even he couldn't doubt the yellow's guardian's intelligence and ingenuity. In fact, it was Volteer who helped design the firing and reloading mechanism of the glorious cannon that once protected the city.

He thought about it for a short while. He remembered the time Spyro had saved him from the Atlawa god, the many conversations they had...the time he had saved them all. But then he remembered the dark times...the previous dark master, the fiery bloodshed and death happening around, and when Spyro turned into that thing…

"I'm sorry Volteer. There has been far too much death, we cannot risk any more. We will put Spyro up for execution tomorrow; where he will pay for his crimes against Warfang."

"Won't he at least receive a trial?" Volteer asked in mix worry and surprise.

"No trial...My condolences Volteer...Spyro needs to be put down. Grace told me how merciless he was to his own brother... He will be given an honourable execution though, where his list of deeds will be echoed to the people, something to remember the dragon he once was." Cyril shook his head.

Spyro's blood was simmering. He didn't care if his execution was going to be noble. All he was thinking about was the lies Grace had spewed! "But I didn't do anything to him, he was my own brother!" This moment of fury quickly turned into more tears. "I didn't do anything…"

The more Spyro thought about it...the worse it became. Volteer was more than willing to give him a chance. But Cyril...was accepting...No...more than that. He wanted for Spyro to die, and it looked like he had convinced, or at the very least put down Volteer's hopes. Meaning he would indeed be put on for execution, in front of the endless crowd of warfang's judgemental fury. It was too daunting...But what could he do?

"Where does that omit Cynder?" Their gazes turned his gaze towards a bulky earth dragon who firmly clutched onto the unconscious dragoness in his thick talons.

Spyro perked up at the mention of Cynder in a mixture of hope and worry; he twisted his head in the direction that Cyril was glaring at, before him as just described – the former terror of the skies, his best friend…Cynder.

Spyro was panicking and tried to shift around. Despite his earlier self-pity, the sight of Cynder dangling motionlessly brought on a new sense of dread and urge to get too had to know if she was still alive!

Cyril eyed the hanging limp form of the unfortunate dragoness who not only had a thick strap of leather tied around her snout, but also had her dangerous tail blade wrapped up in rags to render the sharp edge harmless.

Cyril took a moment to stare at the dragoness a little longer, then he replied to Volteer.

"As much as it indeed saddens me, Volteer. We can only assume Cynder had played a part in this barbaric act… We need to figure out how much of a role she participated in. Then her judgement can be decided."

Both dragons were surprised and almost glad she did indeed actually survive the cataclysmic events of the past, but this possibility of her involvement also scared them. In all honesty, the events of today had gone entirely different from the way the guardians had feared. They dreaded a blood bath of dead dragons, and the all-too-real possibility of them failing in stopping Spyro. But they had suffered zero casualties and apprehended Spyro without resistance, and found a long lost heroine...

Spyro tried so desperately to shake the muzzle off; to plead her innocence. She didn't deserve this treatment, she didn't do anything wrong! The guilt Spyro had originally thought was gone had resurfaced. It was his fault she was in this mess.

"I think it's time we put him back into slumber, Volteer. We will be in Warfang shortly and we will want to minimise risks when transferring him to a more suitable cell."

Volteer solemnly nodded.

Spyro's eyes grew wider as Volteer's thick, yellow tail swang into his vision, directly for him.

His world darkened in an instant.

There was a thick atmosphere of depression settled about four young dragons, mirrored by the black clouds above.

Charditus and his friends was resting on the back of Zinnia. her wings beaten in a solemn rhythm with their waning hearts.

They had managed to save the day...but at a terrible cost. Earthena had lost her life, as did many others.

Infernius and his entire squad were pronounced dead on the scene. There were simply too many deep wounds for those poor dragons to handle. Not even Blizarus, the one who despised them the most, believed they deserved a fate like this.

Though Charditus couldn't see it, he knew Zinnia was gently cradling Earthena in her talons close to her chest like a sleeping baby. But the grim truth was far from that innocent thought.

Still, even though he felt hollow, he refused to shed a tear, Earthena would have wanted them to stay strong...right?

Volterra didn't know what to do. She was still crying, muffled whimpers escaping her maw. Saphira tried her hardest to comfort her. However, she was inexperienced...she didn't have any idea as what to do either…

Even Blizarus, the noisiest and proudest of them all, was quiet like falling snow; he isolated himself at the far back to allow him to cry and remember; remember the times the two of them defied the world and proved it wrong. Together they were indestructible. Who was he now though without her by his side?

Though Zinnia didn't know the group...she knew they had a sad and true grasping of how death works...something she was very sympathetic for. For death should not be something children their age should suffer.

Charditus though was going to make sure he granted Earthena her final wish, to be a hero. Deep down he knew Earthena didn't care about being famous or respected. In the end it was about doing the right thing. So he'll be damned if Earthena isn't put down in history as one who stopped the combined threat of Umbrafor and Spyro.

While they weren't immediately on his mind, Charditus was aware that both Spyro and Cynder had survived...beyond that, he didn't know what would happen...He presumed Cynder would be made an honorary hero. But as for Spyro? He wasn't sure…

Warfang was now on the horizon. Though no one said it...they all sensed each other's intentions - sleep. It had been a very long, gruelling day for them all, one they all wished never happened. And unfortunately, it wasn't over. Volteer had asked if at some point Charditus could give his side of the story.

Then perhaps some sleep will help clear their minds, remedy their aching bodies and help them through the cold day to come.

Spyro eventually awakened from his unconscious state. He opened his eyes. A gentle changing light hugged his eyes, removing the darkness and enabling to see much more quickly than before.

He also was freely able to move, there was no constrictive pressure binding him, for that he was grateful for. It felt somewhat amazing to simply being able to stretch out, for all the time he was held in place, he could feel a numbing sensation crawl along his legs and body.

However he still couldn't open his maw, forcing him to breathe through his snout. His leather muzzle had been replaced with a sturdier metallic collar that enclosed his mouth and also went around his neck to prevent him from simply removing the contraption. A key had to be utilised in the locking mechanism located on the metal band on the back of his neck. Two short, thick chains linked to the neck piece were connected to either wall, limiting his moment and forcing him to face forward.

He was wondering for just how long he was out for. The guardians had worked quickly to get Spyro into a secure cell and replace the crude strap with something more - appropriate. They were currently being updated with the situations surrounding Warfang.

After a failed attempt at removing the instrument Spyro sighed and gave up. He sat on his haunches and looked around. He had been placed in a cell: three metres by five metres. Three walls: Behind him and to his side were solid stone. Spyro presumed this meant that he was underground due to the type of stone it was.

Thick, metal palisades were fused together under intense heat in a crisscross pattern formed the last of the prison cell. A steel hinged gate locked tight into the frame formed the entry into this encapsulating box.

A smooth granite surface covered the entire floor and ceiling, providing a flat parallel surface above and below Spyro.

Beyond his perpendicular prison, two adult dragons stood opposite, clad in their famous armor and staring at him with their stern, unfazed gazes. Either side of them, the hallway expanded onwards, like a ceaseless corridor. Torches lined the walls, providing some reassuring light in this dark, cold hole.

Distant sounds of other prisoners echoed outwards, incoherent from this distance, suggesting Spyro was kept very far away.

This was a jail designed by the masterminds of the ancestors, the same ones that helped build the first Warfang. It is a prison built to last, planned out to hold every kind of prisoner. Six inches of steel lined the outside walls. Large prison cells, one meant for larger dragons had black crystals placed in the corners to sap away their elemental energy, they were placed in holes too large for dragons to smash them.

This sophisticated and intricate maze had only been built on, with many extensions branching off randomly in many directions, leading deeper into the earth, forming a multi-layered labyrinth. Umbrafor had utilised this dark hell for his prisoners.

Spyro didn't know how deep he was, but could guess he was placed in the darkest and furthest corner, a place where no natural light would ever reach even if the clouds were to part this instant.

He sat on his haunches and sighed. He looked up once more at the two guards, their fierce eyes watching his every tiny movement.

He felt a welling sadness grow inside. He tried placing his head upon the cool ground, but even this micro action strained the chains too much, forcing his head to remain up. They embodied who Spyro was - a trapped spirit. With no one to turn to, no one to give him a second chance. The dragons, moles, no doubt even the cheetahs would shun him now. He was but broken soul without a purpose, and only one fate - death.

One tear worked its way down his cheek, followed by another. Suppressed whimpers escape his maw as the once dauntless dragon, the one who had once risked everything, broke down into tears.

While the two guard's eyes did soften, their hardened hearts did not pity him.

The two Guardians sat in what was once Umbrafor's Sentinel base where Umbrafor's office used to be, the first thing they did was get the room lit up though as the dark wasn't that beneficial to them.

They had just spent the last hour listening to the updates given by the sector leaders: Head doctor, Lead Engineer and the Captain of the Guard, Education Administrator. All gave their progress of their department. While the guardians were relieved their return had been met with mostly positivity, at the back of their minds they knew they had a lot of work ahead of them.

Regardless, despite only a mere few hours ago having given up on surviving the week, they were feeling positive, even confident that they could succeed. Things had swung majorly into their favour. Spyro had been caught within a day of being unleashed, the world had been saved, and Warfang had welcomed them back with open arms.

They had just listened to Charditus's retelling of the events. But while they had been working under Umbrafor's orders. No actual crime was committed. Thus he and the rest of the Sentinels had been pardoned.

"Are you sure Cynder is innocent, as you say?" Cyril questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I am, Master Cyril. She stayed behind to ensure the structure and the staff were destroyed so that Spyro could not longer use it," Charditus rephrased, craning his head to the ice guardian.

Cyril and Volteer exchanged looks of relief and surprise. They had hoped Cynder would not of fallen in back into the same path of Spyro. While before they had suspected she did, they had no evidence to support their judgement. But now they have had a case from a reliable source it put those doubts to bed.

"Then I suppose it would best that she is released immediately, would it not? Volteer, please go and retrieve Cynder and return her here. We owe her a sincere apology."

"Absolutely! It would be in my ultimate interest, pleasure, delectation to unimpend her!"

Volteer gave a slight nod towards Cyril and Charditus and slowly hustled his way out of the tent towards the prison block.

"As for you, my boy. It gives me great pride to name you a hero of Warfang, for preventing the coming of the next purple dragon and saving the realm as we know. You will be commemorated in Warfang's Hall of Heroes. Statues and tapestries will be erected in your name and you'll be forever remembered.

However, despite being leader to the band of vigilantes and getting the most recognition, this didn't settle right with him. He may of played a part that ultimately lead to Spyro's downfall, but It wasn't him who sacrificed their life for it. That honour belonged to Earthena and the rest of the sentinels. Even someone like Boldor was a victim, and as such deserved to be remembered. Not himself. "I appreciate the offer, Master Cyril. However I do not want that, not unless the rest of the Sentinels and Cynder are commemorated as well."

"Well of course they will be. But now onto the next form of business. It is about time you and your friends were returned into a life of normality, is it not? You will be given a few days rest to recover from your traumatic experience. Then we will place you into our educational system once we have concluded where your skills and intellect lie. Along with that you will continue to be able to use this building as your establishment."

Charditus gave the place a look over. Too many sad memories and experiences befell this place, reminding him of the dark childhood he and his friends shared. It then reminded him of their resolve. To explore the world once they were free...and now they were free.

"Thank you again for the offer. However, it was decided before everything that had happened that after we had completed our last job we would leave Warfang and explore the world.

Again, Cyril was surprised by the response. "Surely someone as noble as you would value education much more than you're displaying?"

"Umbrafor had taught us a lot of what we needed to know, along with our combat skills and about survival. Plus it's its what we had been wanting for a long time."

As much as Cyril despised it. There was no denying Umbrafor's intelligence. So if Charditus had said that, then there was little denying it. As sad as it was to see the heroes delve into wide world. But if it's really what they wanted to do, then who is he to say no?

"I see, very well. You will still be commemorated as heroes regardless. should you ever return you will granted a heroes' return. Do you know when as you will depart?"

"Soon. We haven't decided yet, nor are we in the condition to." Charditus was thinking more of the emotional state of his friends. It would've been wrong so soon after Earthena's passing. To go on a journey without her...it won't be the same. But regardless it's what she would've wanted. Wouldn't it? To be honest, he didn't know what she wanted. He had hoped it never came to this, but it had. And now he had no clue as to how she would want them to go...

Throughout the conversation Cyril had noticed Charditus was shaking, along with the tired sad look in his eyes. He decided it was time for the young hero to get some rest.

"Thank you greatly for your cooperation, I think it's time you got some rest, yes?"

Charditus gave a weary nod and smiled. "Thank you, Master Cyril."

"When you do leave, may I suggest you leave without a trace? Warfang will surely be celebrating your victory and they can be barbaric in that regard. The last thing we will want is for you to pestered by the rabble. Now on you go."

Charditus nodded, turned, and left the room.

While the others: Volterra, Blizarus and Saphira were waiting for him in their old room, he felt like some time alone in his usual spot was necessary.

He walked past the entry way into his old room, were many of the few happy memories he had were made. Inside three sombre dragons stared gravely at the ground. Reminiscing the loss of a dear friend.

He pondered on, out the entry of the cabin where several creatures had gathered, demanding the attention of the guardians.

Once outside he spread his fatigued wings and flew up towards the once grand city's gate. He gently planted his feet on the puddle-ridden floor and sauntered over to a large dry patch hidden underneath the cannon's wing-shaped steps.

Night had fallen from above the clouds, covering it in another layer of darkness. The unwavering purple lightning still streaking across the same black skies, unfazed and unaffected by today's catastrophic events.

He gazed upon the open city, light up by bright torches, flickering like thousands of fireflies dancing in delight. The people were celebrating their turn of fortunes. A once divided city cheering on a united front for their new heroes...for him and the sentinels.

His eyes turned to find Volterra and Blizarus approaching. He didn't reject their companionship, nor did he ask for it. But it was their job to look after him as much as it was his to look after them.

They grouped together under the glistening cannon, all feeling the same emotions, all feeling the same regret. All stared out upon the city they once called home.

Spyro heard heavy footsteps echo down the endless halls. Another dragon was approaching.

He raised his head in time to see the yellow guardian step into view. He thought this was it then. But to his dismay the Guardian continued walking on past, making Spyro question why he was down here.

Volteer could feel a stare following him, as he tried hiding a guilty face. He strolled past, beyond Spyro's cage and onto the next one, where he stopped and turned.

Spyro could only now see the tail of the guardian, as he tried figuring out where what he was up to. Shortly afterwards though that too disappeared as Volteer entered the cell next to his.

In front of Volteer. Cynder stared back with fear and confusion evident in her wide eyes. In her mind questions were swarming: How is she still alive? Is Spyro alive…? What happened?

It simply wasn't Cynder's day. To awake in a dark dystopia, find that even that is at risk of falling apart, to discover Spyro was the one behind it! To top it all of she was constantly being knocked unconscious. Now she had awoke in a cold dungeon with this infernal contraption on her head.

Volteer tried to give an easing smile, however underneath that plastered grin guilt clawed at his head, craving to be released.

"I am most utterly sincerely apologetic to the current events that had befuddled the majority of us. In these thoroughly confusing experiences we have improperly encapsulated you in this cell. But nevertheless, that bewilderment is now non-existent and you are liberated from vindication."

Cynder just stared back, unable to comprehend what emotions was currently surging through her head.

"Please acquire our expression of regret."

A leather clad mole stepped forward, holding out a silver key.

Cynder felt a surge of relief flow through her. Despite her confusion, the fact she was being let out of this restrainment was a positive sign.

The mole plonked the key into the back of the muzzle and with a satisfying click, turned it to the side. The circlet around her neck split open, and instantly she withdrew her neck from the metal torture device. She craned her neck, simply glad to be out of that mechanism.

The mole drew out another key, this one different though as it was simply a silver handle with a white rod protruding from it. The jade serpent around her neck appeared from its ethereal state simply from being in the key's presence, something Cynder hadn't realised she had on. The mole placed the key on the coiled, green serpent. It untwisted itself from Cynder's neck and fell to the floor, remaining motionless like it was under hypnosis. The mole cautiously picked it up wandered back to Volteer's side.

She then remembered her tail was still wrapped up, and using a sharp talon she sliced down the rags, splitting them off from her infamous, gleaming tail blade.

After a moment of stretching out she turned back to the guardian of electricity.

"Is it over?"

Volteer first gave a look of non-compliance, before realising she was referring to Spyro. "Absolutely, the catastrophe has been averted. Spyro has been concluded in his endeavours."

"He's dead?!" Cynder cried in alarm, she placed a claw forward.

Volteer noticeably stiffened. "Well, not quite. But...he will be situated for capital punishment tomorrow."

Cynder gasped, but quickly calmed down when she realised it wasn't that surprising. Though she had many emotions, she couldn't pinpoint any of them. She could only remember her last cry of love and acceptance as she tried bringing the ruins down around them. Then evil memories of Spyro's utter hatred and disregard floated into her head, adding to her swirling cauldron of feelings.

"Let us disembark from this undelighting location and exit."

Cynder nodded. She, Volteer, and the mole departed the cell and turned right.

During this time, Spyro could clearly make out the conversation, the shock in Cynder's voice. It surprised him to know that all this time they had been placed in neighbouring cells. But deep inside, he found solace in knowing Cynder was going to be alright, that she was free from the fate he was destined for. A guilt now removed from his shoulders… If only he was given the same chance...

Spyro saw them wander into view, Volteer tried passing without looking. Cynder though, saw him as well. She slowed down before coming to a stop. For a second both stared into each other's eyes blankly. Neither blinked, as they tried reading each other's thoughts.

Cynder then narrowed her eyes and abruptly flew into a rage. She rapidly hoisted herself up to the bars and unleashed a torrent of hurtful words.

"You monster! How could you undo everything we fought so hard to protect!? What drove to becoming the next Malefor?!" Spyro's eyes only grew wide, in hurt and painful realisation. Her voice of anger turned one of saddening fury. "I...I yelled my love for you...and you took it, twisted and broke it… and laughed at my pathetic attempts to win you back..."

Spyro looked down, unable to meet the ferocity of Cynder's wrath, each stinging word ripped into his shattered heart.

"You manipulated me. I tried reaching out to you like you did to me! But rejected it, toyed with my emotions… I hope Ignitus is looking down at you with shame."

Tears once more filled the purple dragon's eyes, sliding down his cheek and dropping once more to the floor. Choked whimpers are heard escaping his maw.

Cynder's anger disappeared. She has put down the purple dragon, far lower than she had anticipated. She felt a little ashamed of her actions, unleashing her rage of someone unable to respond back. Though at that time she just couldn't control herself.

She thought it was unusual though, that no amount of pleading would work on him, but twenty seconds of concentrated anger crushed his spirit into dust.

She softly put her talons back on the ground and turned. She took two steps before turning her head to look at him one last time. She spoke in a soft voice. "Goodbye...Spyro."

She walked on, disappearing around the corner. Neither she or Volteer spoke of the incident as they turned the many corners out of this maze.

Eventually, after many turns and ascending two ramps, they found the final ramp that lead out, back into the gloomy free world.

Despite seeing it before. Cynder still couldn't believe how much the world had changed. She stared breathlessly at the devastation that had occurred a month ago, thinking only of the lives lost that day…

They headed back to where Cyril was waiting. After an apology, and a sad reminder as to what happened to Master Terrador, they had offered Cynder the same thing as they did to Charditus. However, Cynder was also of the same mind. Too many memories hinged on this place, too many faces that she once struck fear into…But then she remembered what she had said to Spyro when he offered her a new world…

"What I truly want is to stay in this world, to make it a better place for all those I have wronged. Guilt isn't something meant to vanish, it's meant to be appeased."

She looked back at the expectant guardians. "Malefor has taught me a lot...during my time as his slave. I do not require an education."

While this could've easily be misinterpreted as boasting, the guardians understood the the true meaning.

"Instead, I want to help where I can around the city, to amend my wrongs in the past."

Both dragons managed to smile, glad to see she was still willing as ever. But despite this, they didn't believe she needed to do such a thing. "Cynder, my dear. You shouldn't feel compelled to help just because of actions that were not your own. Surely on your journey here you had realised the gratitude they must've shown?" Cyril asked. He had a reassuring smile about him.

Cynder then remembered the surprised looks of relief she had received from some people. Some smiled their thanks while others even cheered a little. Though she was certain it was meant for Volteer. She even remembered seeing a battle-scarred electric dragon - one who had fought in the great dragon-ape war give her a heartfelt smile.

"You do not owe your life to anyone, no matter how noble or rich they may appear. You have done your part and more, and thus you are free. In fact, Charditus has suggested a rather lushious idea of exploring the world. Perhaps if your heart calls for it, you might want to see if you could join his companionship?

The more Cynder reflected upon, the more of this huge weight seem to just be picked up by a giant invisible hand and vanish...Maybe she didn't owe anything… She then recalled Charditus mentioning his plans, but didn't consider it at the time due to current events. Besides that, she didn't really know what she would do, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea…

"I'll go talk to him," she replied.

Cyril nodded and smiled. "In which case, I shall enlighten you with the same advice I passed onto them. If you do decide to go, don't make too much of a fuss. We wouldn't want you swarmed by all your new fans now would we? Leave us to the telling of your departure."

For the first time in a month...she smiled. "Thank you."

"prompto, due to the lack of date assigned by youngling, Master Charditus, it may be foremost if you speak to him presently." Volteer added.

Cynder nodded and left. The guardians exchanged reassuring smiles before resuming their business consulting with those of warfang.

Cynder wandered back out into the cold night air, she looked down at her sharp claws sinking down into the sticky mud. "I really could do with stretching my wings first though…Then I'll go talk to him...They seem like good dragons...Who knows, maybe exploring the world is just what I need..."

She didn't know what magical force gave her this opportunity, but she'll take it.

She gave a couple of test beats with her wings to ensure they were ready. When she was convinced, she took off.

Meanwhile, abandoned in the darkest corner and alone in his thoughts, Spyro was still mulling over the same questions.

He was questioning why they wouldn't give him a chance to prove he isn't the same demonic dragon they saw that day. Spyro gave Cynder a second chance at life, and the guardians accepted and even welcomed Cynder into their lives...but why won't they do the same now? Had they had shunned him like everyone else, was there not to be the one individual that could show him the way? Maybe the answer simply because there was nothing here worth receiving a second chance for? Was his fate to die?

Cynder's searing remarks were also scorched into his mind. The anger she channelled, the hatred in her voice. It did upset him, but also brought upon another realisation. A phrase Ignitus had spoken to him in their dream: "

...Even when you have wronged, you must be willing to put it aside to correct your mistakes."

Spyro had been running away from his guilt and mistakes, trying to force it away by holding onto what he longer had - his friends. By trying that, he had only hurt them more. By staying here, he is only feeding their anger.

But death isn't simply a way out either. You cannot make pain go away by killing off your problems, for there will always be that emptiness forever left unappeased. Nonetheless, he understood their bitterness, and he wants that disappear as much as they do; but he didn't deserve death. He saved the world, like his brother said over and over. Surely that warrants enough of a reason to live? A chance to live a life elsewhere? Cynder was found, the Guardians have had their honour restored and the threat was over. There was no reason for them to detain him anymore - he was free from his darkness!

But still, they won't listen. Fear had isolated them outside of Spyro's communication. If Spyro was going to have a second chance, he will need to take it upon himself to do that, regardless of what thoughts and worries that try dragging him down.

He will start over in a new place and leave the old life behind, so that they can be happy, knowing he has vanished, and he can be free!

But to do that - he will need to break out of here.

Hey all, apologies it took so long to get a new chapter out, I've been busy in real life and with updating the previous chapter. I would also like to say sorry for the false chapter, I just didn't know how else to update at the time.

Now as some of you are aware of, there will be slight changes in plot that will somewhat change the contents. In other words I am removing some factors that will only lead to plot holes whilst taking those ideas and adapting them for the direction I have for the story. For example I am dropping the guardian's knowledge of the hidden person from the letter and the idea of the twenty younglings. However there will still be situations involving the same character but under different circumstances.

Now that is out of the way I hope you have enjoyed this chapter. For those fearing the story is nearing an end then do not worry, there is still plenty to come! But questions still linger, where will Charditus and his friends go as their first stop? Will Cynder be joining them? And how will Spyro escape and what will he do?

I would like to say thank you to all who have been reading up to this point. You have been a major factor in all this and I hope you will continue to read!

Also a big shout out to YourCompleteDemise for all his help with the story thus far!

Until next chapter, adios!