Legend of Spyro

Prophecy of Blood

Chapter VII

"...and may my son be wise and strong, growing to know right from wrong, praise." Diasdra said as she finished her prayer and got up from the alter. The alter was a beautiful marble stone pillar about three feet high with a gold bowl filled with water on it. Diasdra's claws where still wet from soaking them in the water (symbolizing repentance of past wrongs) and she carefully moved away as to not disturb the other dragons praying.

The Cathedral of Warfang was a sight to behold from the inside, the walls layered in gold and silver. The walls rounded off into the glistening crystal-covered dome that capped the temple. Seven pillars supported the structure, each one representing an element (Fire, ice, wind, electricity, water, earth, and light). Currently, the Cathedral mostly hosted priest and priestess at the moment, Diasdra her self being a priestess.

As she passed by the other priestess, she spotted a lone ice dragoness sitting in one of the almost empty pews. The young dragoness was crying softly, looking at one of the stained glass windows that depicted a scene of two dragons in a passionate embrace. "Are you alright child?" Diasdra asked, approaching the weeping dragoness.

"Hmm...yes, I'm fine..." The young ice dragoness responded, wiping away some of her tears.

Diasdra sat down next to the dragoness and looked up at the window, "I'm guessing you know the story of Verial and Zerindo."

"Yes," The ice dragoness responded, "they where two dragons in love but separated by great distance. Zerindo was fighting against the Wyvern Empire and Verial was a young handmade of Warfang's princess. She prayed for him daily and feared that each time she saw him would be the last. Then came the day the war ended, and Zerindo returned home a hero and newly announced Guardian. The first thing he did when he returned was go to Verial and embrace her, promising to never leave her side again."

"It's one of the great love stories," Diasdra said, glancing at the young dragoness, "and is one of the best, in my opinion. It shows love can overcome any distance and any war."

"But what if you're unsure whether or not the one you love loves you back?"

"That's a risk we all take," Diasdra commented, turning her gaze once again to the stained glass, "Even Verial had to take that chance with Zerindo. But let me tell you, my personal experience tells me the risk is worth it."

"Alright," The ice dragoness said, getting up, sipping her eyes dry, "Thank you, as soon as he gets back I'm going to ask him. Thank you."

"No problem," Diasdra said with a smile as the young dragoness hurried out of the Cathedral, "I'm sure you won't be disappointed you tried."

***Warfang Apothecary***

Spyro grunted in pain as his right foreleg was wrapped up in a cast, "I can't believe that I let that thing get a hit on me. Ancestors this hurts!"

"Oh hush," The healer dragoness, an earth dragoness named Liria, said as she finished the cast, "There, now we're all done." The healer then turned and walked away, tending to other patients.

"Well, glad to see you're patched up." Tykron commented, the yellow and blue dragon had been (and still was sitting) to the left of the wounded general during the hole procedure.

"I thought she'd never finish." Spyro grunted, "It still hurts."

"Broken wrist don't heal instantly." Cynder, currently sitting to the right of Spyro (as she had been for the duration of the procedure), commented.

"I can still fight though!" Spyro growled in frustration, hating every second he was separated from his battalions.

"Not for at least another month." Tykron said. Spyro sighed and Cynder made a remark on being patient. The two bickered a bit, allowing Tykron the window he needed. Very carefully, he used his tail to swap the vial of Spyro's blood (drawn to check for infection) with a vial of red colored water and placed the real sample in his bag. "Well then," The recently elect Head of the Council interrupted, "I must be going."

"Oh, bye Tykron!" Spyro responded, a little disheartened seeing his mentor leave. As his mentor left, he turned his attention back to Cynder. "Hey, err...you know that dance coming up at the festival tomorrow?"

Cynder's heart skipped a beat, "Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if, you know, if you wanted..."

***Warfang main gate***

Watts landed at the gate and patently awaited for it to open. It had seemed like forever since he had been back. His uncle, Volteer, had allowed him to take a break from training and attend the Blood Moons festival.

The gates suddenly swung open and an elder earth dragon was there to greet him, "Ah, Volkrone, I see you've arrived safely."

Watts smiled and responded, "Hey Terrador, thanks for letting me stay with you while I'm here."

The old earth Guardian gave a deep laugh, "It is no problem, my boy, it will be nice to have some company."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Temple is quieter without my uncle blab bing about the first thing that pops in his mind."

"True," Terrador laughed, his deep baritone voice seemingly commanding the attention of all those who surrounded them, "How is your training coming."

Watts sighed, "Slowly." He admitted, "It's one of the hardest things I've ever done."

"Well, that's what it will take to become a Guardian." Terrador said and then stopped, "But I'm sure you wish to see your friends."

"Yeah, I'll see you later!" Watts said as he ran off towards the park where he had planned to meet his friends. Suddenly, a dragon walking from the Cathedral was in his way and, unable to alter his course, they collided.

"Oh Ancestors! I'm sorry!" Watts said as he helped the ice dragoness up, "I should've been paying closer attention I-... Anteria?"

"Watch where you're going you...WATTS!" Anteria screamed, tackling her friend, "Oh I'm so happy to see you!"

"You as well!" Watts gasped, pushing her off to get a breath, "I see you've been working on tackling."

"Hey!" Anteria laughed, "Obviously you haven't been working on street navigation."

"Well, how have you been?" Watts said as he laughed.

"Good, you?"

"Eh, I'm glad to be back for a bit." Watts commented as they started to walk, "Anything interesting happen?"

"No, just preparing for the Blood Moons festival," Anteria said, building up her nerve, "Which, err...brings me to another point..."

"Yes?"

Anteria took a deep breath, "Would you be my date for the festival?"

Watts froze for a second, his mind practically seizing up, "Run that by me-"

"Would you be my date for the festival?" Anteria repeated, her heart racing with anticipation.

Oh Ancestors, I've never thought of her like that! Oh, what am I going to say. Say something! Watts thought before the word "Yeah."slipped through his mouth.

Anteria practically screamed with delight and hugged the Guardian-to-be. "Meet me at seven thirty tomorrow for the festival! I can't wait!" She then flew off, her heart filled with joy.

Watts stood there, trying to figure out what had happened. "Oh Ancestors," he muttered, "What have I done?!"

***Lair of the Wyverns***

"I do not like this Nightlock," The white and blue wyvern said as she and her two male wyvern companions walked through the dimly lit rock hallways of the Wyvern underground city. Her name was Lirtaloc and she, along with the other two wyverns, made up the Triumvirate.

"It will work, Tykron expects no betrayal from us." The black wyvern, Nightlock, countered, "He is distracted by his own people."

"Yes," The third, a dark green wyvern by the name of Yonlin, agreed, "A the purple dragon can be defeated, I have seen it bleed."

"We just have to wait till after Tykron completes his blood ritual and makes us invincible, then we strike and kill." Nightlock said, as bloodthirsty grin edged on his maw.

"And what if the spell doesn't work after he is dead?" Lirtaloc inquired, her intuition warning her against the ritual, "Why not just kill him before."

"Can't hurt to try it," Yonlin said as they approached the war room, "Imagine, an unkillable army, our victory is assured!"

"Our people have tried blood magic before, and we paid a steep price." Lirtaloc objected,

"That was then, this is now," Nightlock reputed, "The world is teeming with magical energy after its near destruction, and now blood magic is easier to use."

Lirtaloc shook her head and sighed, "I wash my claws of this."

"Good to know," Yonlin smirked, "That way we can claim all the reward."

***Warfang Apothecary***

"Alright Spyro, you can go ahead and leave," Lirai said to the purple dragon as Cynder helped him out of his bed, "We'll run some test on your blood, but you can return to the Temple. But you are not under any circumstances to return to battle unless cleared by me, understood?"

"Fine." The legendary dragon muttered as he and his date left, whispering to each other and planning the events for the coming festival.

The healer dragoness sighed as she watched them leave, "Back to work then." She then took the sample of Blood to the back and laid it on a table. She picked up a small jade colored crystal and held it to the sample, but nothing happened. "Strange," Lirai said, expecting the crystal to either turn blue, meaning infection, or red, meaning no infection, but no reaction at all was peculiar. She tried again and received similar results. She then opened the vile and poured the red liquid into a bowl.

"Why this isn't blood!" She said, her mouth slightly hung open due to shock, "What happened to the real sample!"

***Tykron residence***

Tykron labored over a large cauldron, throwing in several ingredients and occasionally blasting the elixir within the black pot with electric. He was in an underground room, surrounded by cave walls. It was sometime past evening and most of Warfang was now asleep, eagerly awaiting the festivities of tomorrow. Tykron too longed for the next day, but for a more sinister reason.

"Almost done," The electric dragon commented as he added silver, fine powder to his evil alchemy. He then took the sample of Spyro's blood and slowly poured half of it into the mix. There was a puff of smoke and a clap of thunder. Tykron smiled.

***Elsewhere***

The adult blue dragon known as the Chronicler sighed heavily as he looked down at Tykron's book. He stood in the midst of a great library filled with books, each book recording the life of a dragon. His task was an important one, and he had a role to play on the world, but a limited one. That's why the Chronicler is a tough position, he still sees the world but cannot directly act in it.

"Oh, this will turn out badly," The blue bookkeeper said, "Evil has made its move. So soon too, hardly is fair to Spyro and Cynder. I did hope they'd see though him before it's to late, "but what's done cannot be undone, what is sung cannot be unsung, what lurks in the dark must come to light, for none escape the Creator's sight," or so the ancient proverb reads." He sighs again and opens another book, this one blue and silver. "There was to be a loop-hole somewhere..."