Spyro the Dragon: Creation and Destruction

By ValkierieDjermegandre

Disclaimer: Sigh...hey! I still don't own Spyro or any related characters that appear in this story! They belong to their respective creators at Vivendi Universal! I own Spyro's god form, his powers and any original characters including, but not limited to, Atlas! I also own the scenario and not...much...else!! Rawwrr!! Okay? Okay.

Plot: Through time, there has always been one god who has been the object of fear; one who's right hand is chaos…who's left hand is destruction…who's very breath is pestilence. Creation and destruction will clash…as forbidden myth becomes black truth…

Notes: It's here! The next part in my Spyro the Dragon God saga, Creation and Destruction. Mostly inspired by my own need for another story to write and an answer to the requests for the next part of the saga (I'm looking at Draganta the Dragonlord and Nightmare King). Hope you like this too!

Book I: The Chaos God

Chapter X: Silence

More than two weeks had passed since the incident at the Tower of Ryoshin. Clouds were rolling in with the coming spring season and brought gentle, but frequent rain. The Artisan Home was a somewhat depressing sight; no dragon was outside and the fountains and houses dripped with fresh rain. At the palace, Spyro stood at the window and had a somewhat distressed look upon his face. Between hearing Djermegandre's story and looking at the soft shower, he was feeling a slight bit depressed. The white dragon leaned his head against the nearby wall and, for some reason, placed his hand upon the handle of his divine glaive, Adamatinacor. There was a distinct disturbance in the air…but Spyro couldn't pinpoint the source of his hostile feelings; then he got a hold of himself. No matter how much he wanted to separate Hinarious' head from his body, there was nothing he could do about it now. Spyro calmed down and continued to stare out the window. Then the door opened.

"Oh, so that's where you are…" At first, Spyro didn't recognize the high voice until he turned around and saw Atlas. He was in the form in which the two dragons first met.

"Atlas…" Spyro said. His mind was in another place.

"…what's up? You're staring out there like someone's mooning you from afar."

"Oh, it's nothing…meanwhile, why are you—"

"I figured that the Elders of your world wouldn't help me if they saw the devil's script on Twilight's form. So before we broke through the dimensional fabric, I scribbled like hell on my shoulder to replace the sigil of transformation. You can see in some places that the lines are…screwy, but it worked well enough."

"…fair enough. Atlas, I may have asked you this before…but, why did you come here? To the Dragon Realms?"

"Because…I wanted to see if Pure Dragons are really different from us Yokkurei; turns out they are. In my realm, I was feared and hated…I wanted to make a friend before I just accepted my destiny as…the God of Destruction. I guess meeting you was the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me…I was able to stop running and I finally made one friend…or did I?"

"What?"

"Judging by the nature of your question…not to mention the way that you're looking at me, I would have to think that you regret our meeting. In other words, you don't want me here, do you Spyro?"

"Atlas…I'm probably going to be as blunt as I can with this. When you came here, those fake-ass Sage Dragons followed…and when they came here, Hinarious came with them. I'm lucky that I am a God, otherwise this palace wouldn't be here right now. You're not even supposed to be here anyway; you're a Yokkurei and if anyone besides me knew that, you'd be hated here too. To sum it all up, you're the source of all the problems that have plaguing my world lately."

"…ouch…"

"…however, you are a really cool dragon and I care about you a great amount. Even though you're not from my world, I've developed a brotherly bond with you, Atlas…and no matter how many Sage Dragons attack us how many times, I won't let them kill you. Djermegandre knows it too; you don't deserve to suffer as much as you have."

"Heh…thanks, dude. However, even though I know you and Djermegandre will accept me…I don't think I can ever go back to my world. I failed in my vow and even though I'm having a good time here and enjoying the sight of water and grass and rain and snow…there are countless Yokkurei in my world that die in a daily struggle for survival. I feel even guiltier than I ever have…"

Atlas let his arms drop to his sides and closed his eyes as he gritted his teeth; the guilt was killing him. Spyro walked up to his Yokkureian counterpart and put a hand on his shoulder. Spyro felt that it was his turn to make a vow. He promised Atlas that he would never let the Sage Dragons get to him; he would do all he could to give Atlas the time he needed to save his world from total extinction. Atlas took the reassuring words well and walked out of the room, smelling some kind of food that was calling to his rumbling belly. Before following the crimson dragon, Spyro looked off toward the rain once more. He remembered what he told himself in the waterfall basin; he would train himself and master his powers and perhaps learn to draw on the full powers of the God of Creation within him…

Meanwhile, the Sage Dragon's meeting room was disturbingly empty. A ghostly silence hung in the air and an ominous mist drifted along the floor and gave the place in even more lonely feeling than it had. It was still in shambles after Djermegandre and Hinarious' encounter…in fact, it was barely a room anymore, but a mix of rubble and the remaining structure that somehow survived the Supreme Judge's onslaught. Suddenly breaking the eerie silence, the sound of talons and a robe dragging on the ground signaled the presence of a being and that being was a charred and deeply scarred Yokurious. The mangled Sage Dragon walked through the desertion and stared up at the rainy skies, cursing his fate to the clouds.

"Damn it all…that Hinarious has corrupted everything that the Sage Dragons once stood for…" Yokurious began. He picked up a piece of shattered glass and stared into it, "He has also changed you too, hasn't he? Previously, you were a kind and gentle dragon who freely offered words of wisdom to those who needed it…but now…now your soul is in shambles along with your body. You are lucky to be alive…somehow surviving the God of Destruction's wrath…but to what end?"

"Will you simply die a colder fate? Condemned to hell for your misdeeds, cursed to be tortured by the Demon King, Jormungandre? Or will you just be condemned to purgatory where you will fade from time and memory? With what you have done, you will surely not be forgiven and allowed to see your mother and father again…oh, dragon god Spyro! I could beg for your forgiveness over and over again and it would never be enough! Why must I live to this day?!"

"Yokurious…you probably don't deserve to be painted as the bad guy…you didn't plan all of this. You were just caught up in the whirlwind, just like the others…except for some reason your soul was much more protected. Was this planned by a higher force? Were you meant to take such measures? Were you meant to help the dragon gods stop Hinarious in his nefarious plot and reunite the brothers? Maybe that is the only way to save yourself from damnation…but first…I need assistance. I can't take on Hinarious by myself…especially since he still has the others under his control…"

The Sage Dragon snapped out of his trance and started to walk away, an uncertain resolve lingering in his tortured heart. Yokurious was unsure of his next move, but thought that it would be wise to play along with Hinarious until the critical moment when he could lend his hand to Spyro, for if he reacted to early, he would most certainly be killed…

Back in the Artisan Home in the Dragon Realms, a special dinner was being held in the palace. It turned out that this day was the very day that Spyro accepted his destiny as the God of Creation three long years ago. Of course, it wasn't raining then but the dinner took Spyro by surprise. There was a plethora of food that was prepared by Spyro's mother-at-heart, Archema, and everyone was there: Spyro's father-at-heart Sachés and the elders, Tomas, Sensei, Titan, Cho-Lei, Magnus, and Astor. Sachés sat at the forefront of the long table with Tomas at the opposite end. Archema, Spyro, Atlas, and Magnus sat on one side, with Titan, Sensei, Cho-Lei, and Astor on the other side. After everyone was seated and quiet, Sachés stood with a glass of wine in has hand.

"A toast to my boy, Spyro…" Sachés started after clearing his throat, "For turning out to be one hell of a teenage dragon! A God of creation…who would have thought! A toast to him for conquering evil and unsightly odds." Everyone clinked their glasses together and the meal begun. Every dragon had glasses full of Blackberry Wine, except Spyro and Tomas who decided against liquor. Atlas was almost given some kind of juice, but he insisted on wine.

"I still can't believe my little baby is a great Dragonian God…" Archema said, sniffling a little.

"It's no big deal, mother. Don't cry; it's somewhat embarrassing…" Spyro said. He decided to call her "mother" for everything she did for him.

"Tryin' to be the big man now, huh son? Look who's grown some hair on his chest!" Sachés said, rubbing his hand in Spyro's hair.

"Dad! Quit it! Come on! You're not even really my father…" Spyro cried, playfully forcing his father's hand away from his hair. Atlas followed Sachés' lead and assisted in messing up Spyro's hair some more.

"So, Spyro…" Titan started, taking a sip of his drink, "We were denied the final lesson of your training. I expected you and I to be able to do battle…"

"Hmph, we could go a round if so wish it. But I doubt that you would want to fight me now." Spyro challenged. Titan smirked but before he could say a word…

"Spyro, where did you meet Atlas?" Astor said, trying to break up the ensuing conflict before it began. Atlas began to look around nervously.

"I met him in the flower field near the dojo. He was unconscious and he was able to wake up." Spyro responded.

"Those are some interesting marks you have there, son…especially that pentagram on your left shoulder." Astor said.

"Uhh…thanks?" Atlas said.

"How could you just interrupt me when I was speaking, Astor?!" Titan yelled.

"You were trying to start a battle at a formal dinner! What would you expect him to do?!" Cho-Lei yelled back.

"You want to take his place, Cho-Lei?!" Titan countered.

"Enough, Titan! You are not a savage Yokkurei!" Tomas called upon rising. Atlas shivered.

"How dare you compare me to a creature as filthy as a Yokkurei?!" Titan countered. Atlas growled under his breath.

"You are acting like a bloodthirsty demon who fights to prove he is strong; a Yokkurei!" Magnus chimed in. Atlas clenched his fists and had had enough. His powers as the God of Destruction kicked in for a brief moment as he slammed his clenched fists on the table, nearly smashing it half.

"Why don't all of you shut the hell up?! You think you know so much, don't you?!" Atlas roared.

His voice echoed off the walls and made everyone take notice. The red dragon scoffed a green fireball and walked out of the room; everyone flinched as they heard the grand doors to the palace slam shut with considerable force. Silence prevailed in the dinner hall for a moment before Tomas turned to Spyro; the white dragon nervously shrugged and lied for Atlas. He said that he didn't know why he freaked out so badly, but indeed he did know. Minutes later, Spyro cleared his plate and charged out the door after Atlas.

"This is your doing, you know…" Magnus said, as he turned to Titan.

Outside in the rain, Spyro was walking through the fields almost in vain, using magic to conjure an umbrella that had his emblem upon it. The white dragon walked up and down the plains until he finally came upon Atlas' footprints. He followed them until he found his target; the red dragon was sitting upon a grassy outcropping, under a tree with a scroll and brush out. Spyro nervously walked up to the young crimson dragon and Atlas looked at him briefly before going back to his drawing.

"Atlas…they didn't mean—" Spyro started. Then Atlas chuckled and gestured for the white dragon to sit next to him.

"I know what they meant…and I pretty sure that they did mean it. They don't know who and what I really am." Atlas said.

"Yeah…I'm sorry. I had no idea that they would go that far. If I did, I would have stopped them from arguing…"

"Sigh…don't worry about it. It's not like you can read the future. It's just…" he paused.

"What?"

"Why do we have to be so different? Why can't Yokkurei and Pures just be the same dragons with different colors or something?"

"Because than there would probably be no need for the different names." Spyro chuckled at this comment and Atlas somewhat joined, "I mean…I don't know what it's like in your world and you're the only Yokkurei I know, so I can't make any judgments. Everyone else is just judging your clan by what they read in books and things like that; they don't really know what Yokkurei are like. For all we know—"

"It's true."

"Huh?"

"It's true. Yokkurei are savage, bloodthirsty, demonic mutant dragons. We kill with free will and not a care in the damn world. BUT! We do it for a reason! We kill for a reason! We destroy for a reason! We burn for a reason, and that reason is consistent: We were born and raised that way. And if I don't do something my clan will die…in silence."

End Chapter Ten…next chapter, Premonition…