"How so?" Spyro asked.
The Elders looked at him expectantly, and suddenly, everything clicked in Spyro's mind.
"Wait…you think I'm the reincarnation of that Spyro?!" he cried.
"We know you are," replied Thomas. "We've always known, since just before you hatched, when your egg fell out of a thief's bag and you hatched right before the eyes of several dragons…from your purple egg."
"Your power has been unmatched by any other dragon's in millions of years," added Astor. "Why, you started breathing fire before you were ten years old! Most dragons can't breathe fire until they come of age!"
"And you've been such a big hero all your life," Magnus inserted. "The prophecy foretold that you would arrive in the world in time to save it from the dangers that were coming."
"And you were chosen by a yellow dragonfly," Titan added. "Yellow dragonflies are rare, but Sparx chose you right away!"
"Wait a minute," Spyro said, turning to face the other dragons assembled there, many of whom he'd saved from imprisonment inside crystal shells years ago. "You all knew, didn't you? That's why some of you guys kept mentioning my destiny! You!" he gestured toward an aged lavender-colored dragon, named Ivor, of the Peace Keepers Clan. "You almost told me when I freed you from being trapped in crystal!"
The other dragons turned to glare at the dragon Spyro was addressing, who in turn shrugged and said, "I forgot, though, and I didn't tell him."
"And you!" Spyro added, turning on an old gray dragon, who also happened to be named Astor, of the Artisans Clan. "You wanted to tell me a story when I freed you! Was that what you were going to tell me?"
The other dragons now turned on Astor the Artisan, who said defensively, "He didn't let me tell him, though!"
"What about you, Gunnar?" Spyro demanded of a yellow dragon of the Peace Keepers Clan. "When I freed you, you said that you knew that if I kept it up I'd fulfill my destiny!"
The other dragons frowned at Gunnar, who said defensively, "He wasn't interested in it!"
"Were you talking about this too, Ragnar, when you said that some dragons thought I wasn't ready, but you knew they were wrong?" Spyro shot at a blue-gray dragon with spots from the Peace Keepers Clan.
"I didn't answer him when he asked me what he was ready for!" Ragnar said to the dragons, all of whom had turned on him.
"Of course the Peace Keepers would have trouble keeping the secret," Sensei muttered angrily to the Elders, who nodded in agreement.
"Come to think of it, what about you, Damon?" Spyro asked a dark green-gray dragon from the Beast Makers Clan. "You were saying that you remembered something when I ran off."
"I wasn't really going to tell him!" Damon exclaimed at the glares of the audience.
"And you, too!" Spyro yelled at a dark coral-colored dragon from the Beast Makers Clan, whose name was Cyprin. "When I freed you, you mentioned that one day I'd be able to tell all the dragons about my 'amazing adventures'! Was this what you meant?!"
"He misunderstood me!" this dragon said defensively in response to the glares of the other attendants.
"Come to think of it, you mentioned this too, Mr. Funderlic!" Spyro shouted, turning on a blue dragon who didn't belong to any of the clans. "You said that purple dragons were a rare breed and that you all expected great things from me!"
"I also told him he'd understand when he was older!" Mr. Funderlic said in his defense.
"Did you know about this too, Hunter?" Spyro demanded of his friend.
"What? No!" Hunter exclaimed.
"Then why did your friend Kasi once say, 'nothing says magic like a purple dragon'?" Spyro snarled.
"It's just a myth!" Hunter exclaimed. "I mean, I thought it was. And Kasi is not my friend!"
"Yeah?" Spyro snapped. "And what exactly is this 'myth'?"
"Just an old saying among cheetahs," Hunter answered. "It goes, 'Only a purple dragon has the power to create and destroy.'"
"And you never thought to mention that to me, even though I'm a purple dragon?!" Spyro demanded.
"Um…" Hunter said sheepishly.
"How could you keep this from me all these years?!" Spyro cried to the general audience, outraged.
"Because we were supposed to!" cried Titan, striking the ground with his staff.
"Spyro, darling, please understand," said Magnus, "we weren't supposed to tell you until your memories started to return on their own! Your dream a few nights ago means that you're now ready to fulfill your destiny!"
"And what a glorious destiny it is, too," remarked Red. "I would have been honored if it had been me."
Spyro stood there, all eyes on him, and felt as though his entire world had just turned upside-down. He couldn't think, he couldn't hardly breathe; he felt like he was falling, like the world was spinning around him. More than anything, though, he felt as though he were drowning in a deep sea of fear. For some reason he couldn't explain, he feared this destiny more than he had ever feared any of his foes, however great. Something told him that bringing back the days of the dragons of old with Cynder wouldn't be as easy as it sounded, that something bad would happen first, something very bad, something far worse than any of the dangers Spyro had ever faced before.
Oblivious to Spyro's terror, Thomas said, "Come now, Spyro, it's time for you to go to the White Isle where Cynder waits. Red will escort you there."
"Why Red?" Spyro heard himself ask.
"Because some amount of the blood of the ancients, however small, runs in my veins, as can be demonstrated by my ability to furl and unfurl my wings," answered Red, demonstrating this trait physically as he spoke. "You and I are the only dragons in the world strong enough to make the trip, now that you've defeated the Sorcerer."
"Was the Sorcerer like one of the dragons of old?" asked Sparx.
"Yes he was," Red answered, "more so than any other dragon since the old days. Present company excluded, of course," he added, addressing Spyro. "Come on, now; the world has awaited this day for over five million years! Let's go!"
"Okay," Spyro heard himself reply, and, feeling as though he were moving through a dream, he took flight with Red and followed the strange dragon in the direction of the island on which it was finally time for what remained of the dragons of old to be awoken.
~o~
The flight took hours; the two dragons and Sparx flew through the night and well into the next day. Spyro took this time to try to get everything straight in his mind, preferring to focus on such trivial things as the strange pattern of the island-jumping that that Spyro had done when he was rescuing the Guardians; it seemed to Spyro as though each of the islands that that Spyro had gone to had been dominated by the element he was to learn, and rescue the master of, on the next island. Spyro greatly preferred to focus on things such as these, rather than study the strange sensation of looming disaster that was growing inside of him every moment. It wasn't his apprehension of getting married, though, as a pre-adulthood dragon, the notion was rather disturbing. No, it was something far deeper, something far more deadly…he never allowed himself to get any further than that when the notion struck him to wonder about it.
Sparx, meanwhile, wondered how he fit into all of this. He had been named after the old Sparx, and he knew he would like to be the reincarnation of the old Sparx and get his old memories and such, but he had barely been mentioned in the final chapter of Thomas's story. He wondered what would happen if he wasn't the reincarnation of the old Sparx when Spyro got his memories and powers back. What would become of him? Spyro wouldn't need him anymore…
Red's thoughts were in a place far, far away from those of his two charges. He silently pondered many things, such as the idea of reincarnation itself. He barely noticed as the sky changed and warped and went dark and strange, nor did he notice when the White Isle came into view; it was Sparx who saw it first.
"Look at that island! Is that it?" he asked Red.
"Hm?" Red responded, coming slowly out of the train of thought he had been following. "Oh, yes, that's it, that's the White Isle." He banked down and landed on the isle's edge, Spyro coming to rest beside him.
As they made their way up to the citadel at the center of the island in silence, Spyro couldn't help but look around in wonder at all the strange ruins and statues all over the place. It seemed to him almost as though time stood still here, like the island was an otherworldly tribute to the history of the entire world. As soon as they reached the courtyard, Spyro's gaze of wonder at the place was stopped short when he noticed something standing at the center of the courtyard.
There, like a mosquito in amber, frozen and suspended inside a large blue crystal, was the black dragon that Spyro had seen in his dream. She looked exactly the same. Her eyes were closed, and her expression was intense, as though she were preparing herself for something.
"There she is," Red marveled quietly, almost to himself. "What a beauty…"
Spyro's first and foremost thought about her looks was that she looked weird, but, after considering it a moment, he was forced to admit to himself that there was something both fierce and elegant about her form.
The three of them just looked at her for a few minutes, not moving, not speaking. Then, Sparx broke the stillness.
"Aren't you going to go free her?" Sparx asked Spyro.
Spyro didn't respond. Something deep inside of him had stirred, urging him to set her free, but the part of him that still harbored a deep-seated fear made him hesitate. Something wasn't right…
"I'll go first," Sparx said after a minute.
That got Spyro to speak up.
"What do you mean, you'll go first?" he asked Sparx. "I'm the one here who's a reincarnation."
"Well, since you're obviously scared, I'll go touch it first so you don't have to worry about any booby traps," Sparx answered, and he flew up to the crystal. For a moment, he was suddenly fearful of the black dragon inside, but he twisted himself around and touched his tail section to the surface of the crystal.
To the astonishment of everyone there, Sparx was immediately enveloped in a blinding light. It wove around him, blocking him from sight, then flashed once and faded.
When at last the light died down enough for Spyro and Red to open their eyes, they saw that Sparx had been transformed. He hovered upright instead of lengthwise, had a full head, and most notably of all, he had arms and hands - with fingers!
Sparx looked at his hands for a few moments in wonder. Then, he spoke up, overjoyed, his voice free of the insectile whine that had always been a part of his vocalizations.
"Woohoo!" he cried. " Check it out! I have hands! Spyro, look, look!" He flew right up to Spyro's face and waved his hands in front of Spyro's eyes. "I have hands!"
"Yes, you do," Spyro replied, stunned. Then, suddenly, Sparx's eyes widened and, crying "Spyro!", he threw his arms around Spyro's neck.
"Oh, Spyro, I missed you, buddy!" Sparx exclaimed.
"What are you talking about?" Spyro asked, confused.
Sparx released him and flew back into Spyro's face. "It's me, buddy, it's me!" When Spyro just stared at him in bewilderment, Sparx flew around behind Spyro's head and, pushing him, urged, "Go on, touch the crystal, you'll remember everything!"
"Wait," said Spyro, turning to face his overjoyed friend. "You were the reincarnation of-"
"YES!" cried Sparx, "IT'S ME! I am Sparx THE Dragonfly!" And he began to dance a small cha-cha in celebration.
Spyro stared at his old friend's joy and wondered…what would it be like, to be one of the all-powerful purple dragons of old? What would his memories be like? What would his powers be like?
…What would Cynder be like?
Slowly, very slowly, Spyro approached the crystal, until he was gazing closely at the face of the black dragon inside, his snout almost touching the crystal's surface. Who was she? What was she really like? It had been her desperation, her love for him, that had made this day possible. She had chosen to be frozen in time indefinitely, rather than live on in a world without him. Spyro's experiences with girls had been few and far between, but had left him with the general impression that females, especially female dragons, were silly and weak, with the few non-dragon exceptions that were his friends. Yet here was a contradiction to what he knew from experience. He had never before heard of a female dragon so passionate, so strong…He wanted to remember…
Slowly, barely even conscious of what he was doing, Spyro raised his right hand, and allowed his claws to gently come to rest on the surface of the crystal in which Cynder was frozen in time.
The effect was instantaneous. Power flowed into him - the entire crystal was concentrated energy, and it all poured into him at once. He was lifted up off the ground by the sheer force of it; everything rushed through his body. The onset was so powerful that Spyro instinctively tried to fight it for a moment, but he quickly got ahold of himself and opened himself to his past. His whole body burned with power, his mind filled with ancient memories and thoughts, and certain points on his body tingled strangely.
To Red and Sparx, it looked as though Spyro was cocooned in bright light, completely hidden by the shining envelope. This went on for several whole minutes, until finally, a blinding flash came from the spectacle, and the light faded.
Spyro slowly came to rest on the ground. He opened his eyes slowly, taking full stock of himself, mind and body. He looked at himself, and saw that he was larger and more sturdily built, and that his wings had become larger and could be furled and unfurled like Red's wings, and that they had small spikes at their peaks. He also noticed that the spike at the tip of his tail, which had been an oddity unique to him, had melted away, replaced by a fringed blade around the end of his tail, like most dragons had. Also, though he couldn't see it, the ridges that ran up his forehead and down his neck and back had been separated from each other, unlike the continuous ridge that had once dominated his head, and his horns, which had previously been ringed all along their lengths like screws, had smoothed out, so that there were only ridges where they bent. Most remarkably of all, though, was the fact that the changes didn't seem strange to him at all. He closed his eyes again, allowing his old memories to come back to him, and found that his new memories remained as well, which he had not anticipated, and for which he was grateful. He also recalled his mastery over the elements, feeling them course through his body, ready to be commanded.
He allowed everything in his mind and body to get settled back into place for a minute, then opened his eyes once more and saw Cynder lying on the ground, her eyes closed, the crystal gone. She did not stir.
Spyro immediately became concerned. "Cynder?" asked, nudging her gently. "Cynder, it's me, wake up. I'm back."
For a moment, she lay there unmoving, as though dead. Then, after a minute, she groaned softly. Eyes still closed, she moved her tail, then her hind legs, then her front legs, then her wings, and finally raised her head, all very slowly, as though she didn't expect movement to come. At last, she slowly opened her eyes and saw Spyro standing over her.
"Spyro!" she exclaimed joyfully. She jumped to her feet and unfurled her wings, wrapping them around Spyro's head and neck. "Oh, Spyro, I've been waiting for you for so long! I thought you'd never come!"
Spyro embraced her with his wings as well, being careful of the very spiky back of her head, and was about to ask her what she meant when Sparx flew over and said, "Our happy family is back together at last!"
Spyro and Cynder took a step back from each other, looking at one another in joy. Spyro opened his mouth again to ask Cynder what she had meant when she said that she'd thought he'd never come, when suddenly, unexpectedly, a cry of anguish rang out from behind them.