Chapter three- Voices

The next morning, Hunter awoke to see Spyro laying on the beach next to the river. The river sparkled with the morning sun reflecting off of it. The grass surrounding the beach was glinting in the light, due to the morning dew that was brushed all over the valley. Not a cloud in the sky, the baby blue sky spread throughout the endless sky in this majestic morning, if there ever was one. Spyro just lies there motionless, occasionally releasing a long breath that slowly pushed the sand across the ground toward the water. His scales also reflected the sun and made him look more masculan do to the endless training.

"Good morning Spyro." Hunter said letting out a yawn and stretch.

"Is it? I haven't realized." Spyro said, obviously depressed. Hunter slung his bow around his shoulder and came to sit by Spyro. Hunter let out a long refreshing breath,

"It's a glorious morning in this particular season. The snow will soon be here. Heh, I can already feel the wind coming down from the North." He looked over to Spyro to see that his attempt to get Spyro's thoughts off his father was unsuccessful. Spyro just layed there, not making sound. Slowly rubbing the grass with his tail.

"Well, better us get moving. We could make it to the dragon temple by sun top if we leave now," sun top is what they called the time of day, where the sun was at the top of the sky, "and I bet Cynder aand the little tyke is just waiting to see you. Eh?" Spyro lightened up a bit after the mention of Cynder. Oh, Cynder. How he missed her eyes and smile, her tender kiss. This made Spyro snap right out of his funk, and get to his feet.

"Well, then. What are we waiting for?" He said taking off to the sky. Hunter sighed some relief finally giving Spyro something else to think about, but even though Spyro loved the thought of Cynder, the thought of his father and deceased uncle never left his mind.

After a few hours of flying, a fimiliar voice crept into Syro's mind.

"Spyro..." this suprised him and he fell a few feet.

"What was that?" the voice came again.

"Spyro... you can not ignore me." the voice was a very deep sounding voice with a very high pitched resonating through Spyro's head.

"What? Who are you?" he said out loud.

"Don't you know? Ah, yes. Ignitus never told you... did he? I am your father." Spyro understood what was going on now, and tried to push him out of his mind.

"You can not ignore me Spyro. You can not overpower me! Just... listen." the voice beckoned to him.

"What do you want?" Spyro asked trying so desperatley to be rid of the voice.

"Spyro... I know of what you did to your uncle... my brother... Malefor. I am... severely... disappointed in you."

"Go away!" Spyro screamed at him.

"Hahahaha, you can not push me away Spyro. I am your thought. But I... am not the only one. I heard tell that you, son of the most powerful dragon on the face of this world, has become mates with the traitorous, wretch known as Cynder..."

"Don't you DARE call her that. Never again!"

"My son... you don't realize the consequences of what you have brought onto this world. You don't realize that even thought you may kick, and fight, and SCRATCH... I will always be there to watch you make every mistake of your life. EVERY... last... one... and, hahaha, let's just hope, that this was your last." the voice was gone. Spyro could once again think clearly.

"What... what does he mean?" Spyro then felt a severe pain run through his head. A vision formed in his mind, and not a pleasant one. It was a vision of death and decay. Of destruction and ruin. Armies upon armies of grublins and evil dragons were attacking Warfang. Bodies littered the ground, the shrill cry of a woman was heard in the distance, and then the vision was ended.

"Cynder!" Spyro shouted, adn flew as fast as his wings could carry him, toward the desecration, of his home.