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 XII: Training
In Terra's room, the silver wolf sat on the floor with his toys and miniature versions of the Artisan Home and the White Mountain Range. His Spyro and Djermegandre figures were off on the mountain range map and his Atlas figure in the Artisan Home. Terra smirked to himself as he placed a figure of Tomas flat on the ground and used his fingers to light flames in various parts of the Artisan Home; he than pulled out a quill pen and started to draw jagged lines on the Artisan map to represent fissures. He looked at his work and his face melted into one of apathy, as he placed "Spyro" in front of "Atlas", both dragons with their weapons bared, except "Atlas" had his Shinigami Ryoku and a strange light was rising from "Spyro" via a small bulb that Terra had placed behind the figure.
"The Gods…they are so easy. All I had to do was set off that bud of evil energy inside of Atlas and he'll end up taking care of the rest. If I'm lucky than he'll kill Spyro and destroy the Dragon realms in an attempt to resurrect his world…" Terra said to himself. He thought for a moment, "I wonder who put that idea into his head? That he could revive his world by stealing the life force of the God of Creation or the Supreme Judge…"
As if to answer Terra's question in the dark, cold room…around a corner, Hinarious smirked to himself in the inky darkness…
Meanwhile over the White Mountains, Spyro and Djermegandre were walking through a valley of spirits. The God of Creation let his eyes wander; the place was true to its name. The mountains were snow white and complementary colors were the only ones around, like sky blue, teal, silver and gray. If not for the markings on Spyro's body, he wouldn't be able to distinguish himself from the area, let alone Djermegandre. It was very peaceful however…snow fell from the skies gently and yet the air wasn't cold at all; probably because of the warm energy of the spirits flitting about. Every now and again, Spyro would see birds flying about, except they weren't the birds he would normally see in the Dragon Realms; these birds had tassels that trailed from their tail feathers that bared some kind of marks that Spyro didn't recognize. When they flapped their wings it seemed like they had six wings and when he looked closer, Spyro found that they did have six wings; the extra four extended from the initial two. When the birds sung, it was a pleasant sound.
Upon walking beside Djermegandre for more than fifteen minutes, the Supreme Judge put his arm out to stop Spyro from going any further. The white dragon wondered what it was all about until he saw the large hole off to the side of the path. It expanded a good ten miles with most of the distance being covered by the resulting fissures and what looked like cooled magma. A vast amount of souls were floating around the area and strange runes and a single mark were visible on the ground. Djermegandre walked towards the devastated site and Spyro followed behind, curious but cautious.
"Hey Djermegandre…what the hell is this?" Spyro asked. Djermegandre closed his eyes as he recalled.
"This…is a vast canyon of remains. There used to be a town here…" Djermegandre said.
"A…town? What happened, an earthquake or something?"
"Worse. The God of Destruction's…Atlas' thirteenth birthday. Every year on the thirteenth of Asuron the thirteenth month of the year, he spins a roulette to pick which general area in which to hold his…'celebration'. The needle landed on the White Mountain Range and he found this place first, I imagine. After generally decimating the area and poisoning the air around it, he dropped whatever remains there were into the ground to leave them to be eaten by the magma streams below. He then left his mark on the ground and left…despite his savagery, it is how he is destined to live, so we can't complain. Come; we're almost there. The temple's just over the next mountain…let's hope that Atlas' wrath didn't spread there."
Spyro was about to ask how Atlas got into his world that time, but then he remembered that the White Mountain Range was nestled in the Spirit Realm, between the Dragon Realms and what he assumed was the Yokkureian Realm. That left Spyro with a bad taste in his mouth; Atlas is destined to be violent and savage due to his nature as the God of Destruction. Was it really wise to leave him in the Dragon Realms alone? The white dragon then shook his head and put it out of his mind; if he started to cause any trouble, the elders would do something about him. After seeing Djermegandre's signal, Spyro picked up his pace and followed alongside the Supreme Judge as they entered the caverns of a large mountain.
Water of a silver color flowed from the walls of the inner caverns and blue grass grew in places where Spyro didn't think that grass would grow. Light pierced through small openings in the rock and lit up the caverns as it glanced off of the small crystal clusters that littered the cavern walls and roads. Trying to give himself something to do, Spyro was trying to recall the months of the dragonian year, but was failing. Then he figured that it would make an interesting conversation with the Supreme judge.
"Hey Djermegandre, there are thirteen months in the year, right?" Spyro asked.
"Yes." Djermegandre answered with his arms folded, "In order Rodoam, Sodoam, Churoam, Segai, Gurai, Jindai, Reysu, Aisu, Ridu, Golderon, Haiduron, Shekuron, and Asuron. Each month has twenty-eight days and a new moon on the first day of the last week. Just as a fun fact, I was born on the first of Rodoam; I was told that this was good luck."
"I was born on the sixth of the Asuron…well, that's what Spira told me one time. He said that my birth date is why I'm so determined."
"Hmm, that's interesting…you were born four years and one week before Atlas…"
"What? How old is Atlas? By now, I'm nineteen."
"Than, that would make him fifteen years of age."
"Wonderful…I'm older than him and he's still bigger than me…well, that Twilight form, anyway…"
Spyro let his thoughts drop for that moment as the cavern thinned out and light could be seen beaming from an exit. The celestial duo emerged from the cavern and Spyro could see the temple. The columns were marble and glinted in the setting sun. Celestial runes were all over the structure and crystals that seemed to grow out of the ground. The marks of Creation and Destruction were on respective pedestals; Creation was made of marble and Destruction was made of a dark looking material that Spyro couldn't identify. The roof seemed to be made of a transparent material and was a circular dome that went around the entire structure. It only amazed Spyro more as they walked closer.
"Wow…this is amazing!" Spyro said. He marveled at the various dragons that were etched into the walls outside of the temple, "This is where gods train?"
"Gods, demi-gods, holy warriors, you name it; any celestial being that needs to hone their skills comes here. To the Temple of the Edge."
"'Temple of the Edge'? Where's the name come from?"
"You have a thirst for knowledge, don't you? No one knows for sure where the name came from, but most suspect that it was built at the end of the world. But enough chatter! Let's go inside!"
Spyro nodded and started to push the large doors open. Djermegandre was impressed by the young dragon god's display of strength as the door was beginning to open. The Supreme judge then figured that he should help Spyro open the door and lent his own muscles to the cause; however, the door didn't open any faster. When it finally opened, Djermegandre wiped the sweat off of his brow and brushed himself off.
"I swear…opening that door should be one of the trials…pant, pant…" Djermegandre said.
Spyro laughed to himself and walked inside of the temple with Djermegandre. Upon walking inside, Spyro found that the floor was so clean that their images reflected off of it with vivid detail. The white dragon looked up and noticed that roof that he thought was transparent actually wasn't; from the inside, the God of Creation could see designs of what he assumed were different dragon gods. The images faded out to reveal different, more malevolent looking beasts; Spyro figured that the images were different light anima and dark anima. Something snapped him out of his daydream however; it was the sound of a sword hitting metal. Following the sounds, Spyro walked around a nearby corner, with Djermegandre close behind. The duo emerged in another large room and Spyro was met with a surprising sight.
His father, Spira was wielding his sword against what looked like a black suit of armor. The armor was obviously being animated by a spirit of some kind and it wielded a sword as black as its armor. Spira wielded his divine blade, Spirayoma against the animated armor and the two opponents walked around in each other in circles until the animated armor lunged at Spira with sword in hand. The dragon god jumped to the side and spun his sword in his hand with flourish as he dodged another strike; the blue dragon than jumped forward and made a strike of his own, right on his opponent's helmet. Spirayoma cut right through the black metal and made a flash of hot sparks as the metal came away; the blue dragon god than shifted his position in the air and sent forth a gust of sharp winds with his wings that shredded the black armor to small fragments that clattered nearly soundlessly to the floor.
"You're training?" came a voice that Spira knew.
The blue dragon turned and acknowledged the white dragon that was his son. Spira outstretched his arms, but before he could call Spyro's name, the latter was already charging at him and leapt into his arms. Djermegandre smiled at the affection and walked closer to the duo; eventually, Spyro released his father's body and Spira crossed his arms as he retrieved his sword and wiped his brow.
"To answer your question, I'm not really training…just killing time." Spira said with a smirk.
"What are you sweating for? It looked like you tamed that guy." Spyro said. Spira closed his eyes as he sheathed his sword and collapsed on his back to the floor.
"That's 'cause you came in an hour or two after the fight started; that Yurin Armor was a persistent bastard…oh, hey Djermegandre. I didn't see you there."
"How is that possible…killing time you say?" Djermegandre said. Spira rose and nodded.
"Yeah; nothing else. So, what is our God of Creation doing here?"
"I'm here to train!" Spyro said with a confident look on his face, "Despite the fact that you gave me the rights to my godhood before you returned to Sakur, I can't call upon that power. I would like to be able to call upon my true abilities as the God of Creation to better protect my world."
"Good choice. Well, you may as well get to it; there're quite a few trials to go through."
Spyro nodded and walked down the nearest hallway that Djermegandre led him to. Soon, the white dragon found himself staring down a large door made of some kind of steel material that Spyro had never seen before. On one side of the door were runes from an ancient language from the Dragon Realms along with several designs that looked like roses and plant vines. The other side of the door was covered in devil's script and had inscriptions of demons and other malevolent creatures. Spyro put his hand on the Pure Dragon side of the door and it immediately started to slowly open and a blinding light poured out…
End Chapter Twelve…next chapter, Rite…