Legend of Spyro: Stormfront

Chapter 26

First off. I'm alive! Yay! Sorry about this taking so long. I hope you enjoy the long chapter.

The once mighty general sat in his tent, orders of requisition of troop movements scattered everywhere. His scales were a good deal paler than the day he met that scum of a dragon named Spyro and his accomplice Quake. He had nearly half a battalion out searching for where they had taken his son, but so far no word had reached him.

He slammed a clenched paw down on the ground in fury growling at it as if it were the purple dragon. He stared at the imprinted ground where his paw had landed, and realized how foolishly he was acting.

I must control my emotions in order to think rationally. He took a deep breath and sat in silence for another moment more.

He went back over how his son had disappeared from the camp. Somehow that earth dragon named Quake had successfully gotten through the patrols and guards into the camp, which should have been impossible, but he had somehow done it. And then he got Rey out without anyone noticing either, which was even more of a feat. It had taken several hours for anyone to notice he was missing, and only when they found out that a dragoness had been kidnapped from the Warfangian camp did they put two and two together.

When Electria and Glacia had found out they had come straight to him begging to be on the search detail to look for their stolen friend, and he acquiesced after a prolonged argument with the pair, but only after giving them the stern warning that they were not to not engage the purple dragon or his partner.

He found their drive to rescue their friend and his son admirable. It was one of the defining characteristics of Rey's mother, and that was why he liked her so much.

He stepped out of the tent, looked towards the sky and muttered, "Wherever you are my dear, watch over him."

A runner was approaching from the direction of the camp, message scrolls filling his satchel. He reached the summit where the general stood and straightened at a firm attention.

"A message from the Guardians of Warfang, sir," he said handing Erwing a sealed scroll from his pouch.

"Thank you, you are dismissed," the general replied as he motioned for him to leave.

The messenger nodded an affirmative before turning and leaving for his other duties.

Erwing broke the seal with a swift slice of one of his sharp talons. The writing was an elegant flowing cursive form of the draconic runes.

The dragoness that was kidnapped in unison with your son has been found. Please come at once.

*.*.*

Cynder stood some distance away in the field. Flame and Flare were joyously hugging and nuzzling each other, tears of joy streaming down their faces. Cynder watched as Flare cried into Flame's golden chest, releasing her anguish and pain.

A pang of jealousy slipped past into Cynder's mind, but she squashed the envious thought before it could gain a foothold. She was their friend, and she should be happy for them, she thought. She sat on her haunches intending to wait until they finished. They deserved it. She carefully examined Flare from a distance; there were no visible injuries she could see. Not even a scratch.

Her body won't show psychological damage. Old memories cropped up in her head. She knew from years of experience that it didn't require physical pain to break someone.

A cool breeze blew past her shifting and twisting the grassy field. She sat there for several more minutes, enjoying the down time to rest her hard worked wings and joints. Her thoughts wandered to the future, a future without war, without pain.

She shook her head at the thought. What she wanted was impossible; whenever good triumphed evil would rise once more. It was a vicious cycle that was never ending. She remembered the history of Warfang and how it earned its namesake conquering others. Her race had been warring for countless years, and nothing had ever risen to stop it.

Are we doomed to an existence of pain and misery, war and death?

Flame and Flare roused her from her dark thoughts before she could even think of an answer.

Flare spoke first, her voice unusually timid. "C-Cynder, we need to go see the Guardians."

Cynder could tell something had definitely shaken her. "What is it Flare?"

"Spy—" she began, but then cut herself off. "No. We need to get going now. I've wasted enough time bawling already."

Cynder sensed the dodged question, and she swore that Flare was going to say Spyro, but whatever it was it sounded important so she decided not to argue the point. Flare needed some time to recover, and maybe the flight home would at least heal her a little.

*.*.*

A light blue dragon sat at his study in the White Isles. A floating quill was busily scribbling characters and runes into an inky black book, with flowing red tongues of magenta flame that ran along the spine. After several more hastily written sentences the quill set itself down and then book closed revealing the pages to be lined in silver.

It was rare that Ignitus recorded someone's book himself. Only very special dragons were reserved that right.

The dragon turned towards the merrily glowing hearth in the center of the room and sighed.

Sometimes, Cynder, the world doesn't need a hero, but… a villain.

The heaviness in his heart only grew. He had destroyed Spyro's well-deserved quiet life, and the thought of it only made his guilt worse. He wondered if he had made the right decision to interfere with the outside world. He was not supposed to unless the direst of circumstances arose. What would be the future consequences of his actions? Would they cause a greater calamity than the one that had arisen now?

He had been agonizing over those same questions for weeks now.

These thoughts unnerved him, but the past was the past. There was nothing that could be done now. The fate of the dragon race was in Spyro's paws.

The thought felt comforting. He had bet everything on the purple dragon before, and won.

Hopefully I'm not pushing my luck a little too far.

*.*.*

Standing on the ledge above the rim of the caldera, Rey watched as deep beneath him a lake of magma boiled. The air was filled with the thick smell of sulfur, smoke and ash. For some reason, for all of the volcano's destructive power, it mesmerized him. He felt the heat through his fire element, the amount of energy here. It was unfathomable. Nothing could stir or affect this mighty giant except the earth itself.

Paw steps descending onto gravel alerted him to the approach of someone, and next to him appeared Spyro. He set something down next to himself, but Rey was too transfixed to bother seeing what it was.

"Awe inspiring, isn't it?" the great purple spoke.

Rey slowly nodded an affirmative before once more returning his gaze to the sweltering pit.

"It's time."

Rey looked to the purple dragon who was also staring into the pit of pure heat.

"I'm ready," he responded.

"Good, head back down and we'll get started. I will warn you again, it will be painful," Spyro said gravely.

"Quake told me… but if he lived through the corruption, I can too," Rey responded, ready for whatever came his way.

Rey was about to turn and go back to the cave when he noticed that Spyro's right paw was standing over a crystal. Its deep, dark purple swirls and streaks of black caught catching his eye. It was almost two feet long, shaped like two pyramids attached at the base and very slender. He thought he heard a whisper come from it, but dismissed it as the wind.

"What is that?" he said, motioning to the dark purple crystal.

"A dark crystal," Spyro responded solemnly.

"What's it for?" Rey asked curiously.

"This," Spyro responded, and with a swift kick he sent the crystal over the edge. It plummeted down into the heart of the volcano before Rey lost it in the swirling smoke.

The fire mountain shook in response, as if unpleased with its offering, shaking the two dragons to the ground. A geyser of lava shot into the air far below them and covered most of the distance between them and the lip of the volcano. Rey stepped backed away in fear thinking it would erupt.

"Don't worry, we're safe. Just don't be up here in three days, alright? Now let's go down. We have work to do." The purple dragon turned away from the edge and took flight. Rey took one last look at the maw of the beast before turning to follow Spyro.

He reached the cave that had been his former prison, where now Quake and Spyro were standing. Rey stood before Spyro silently. Spyro made no move, until Rey nodded slowly signaling he was ready.

Spyro placed a paw on his forehead. Then his skin began to crawl. It felt as if something was sliding across his head and could see what looked like black ink covering his snout. It went down his neck, followed by his legs, then his midsection and all the way to the tip of his tail. Only his eyes were uncovered.

The black mass seemed to pause for a moment. Then it began to delve into his scales, seeping through unhindered by his skin. Rey felt an incredible pain over his entire body. It felt as if every scale was being ripped off. He fell to his knees, and tears began to stream down his face. He cried out in agony and collapsed to the floor.

He closed his eyes for what only seemed a mere moment, and when he opened them he was in a completely new location. He was in a long hallway of stone, dimly lit by a few torches. The walls were dull and lifeless granite. They extended upwards into blackness.

"Where am I?" his voice sounded down the hallway, only his echoes greeting him in return. There were only two possible directions to choose from. He shrugged and began walking down the corridor. He only made it a few feet before the torch that had lit the area around him went out, leaving him mostly blind to what was around him. Only in the distance ahead of him could he see another lit torch.

A strange sensation came over him as his body began to tingle. It felt as if the blackness was watching him.

A scuff behind him sent him whirling about to see what was there, but in the dark behind him he could not see. He began to sprint for the torch in the distance. He thought he heard something begin to follow him. The footfalls were getting louder and louder behind him as he approached the only source of light. He jumped through the glow of the torch to land on the opposite side spinning in the air, his eyes instantly scanning for any sign of movement.

He saw nothing. He stood there for a minute searching through the darkness.

The torch above him flickered for a moment, and dimmed. The circle of light he stood in shrank significantly. He turned for just a moment to see another torch had lit a little farther down. He turned back towards the dark and let loose a stream of fire from his maw. He cut the fire and bolted towards the other torch. The light from behind him went out completely.

The pounding of footfalls again began to follow behind him, this time much closer. He didn't look back. He concentrated solely on running, yet the sounds only came closer. He thought he felt something brush his tail. He ran harder. Terror began to overtake him. He couldn't make it. He was only a few feet from the light now. He leapt towards the ring of light…

But something grabbed his tail and slammed him into the ground. He flipped over to see nothing but gleaming white razor sharp teeth about to devour him.

A purple light flashed above overhead his head. It struck the unseen foe sending whatever it was flying off of Rey.

Rey jumped to his feet trying to regain some sense what to do next. A light above him attracted his attention. He looked up to see a wall of a translucent purple energy descending the entire length of the corridor towards him. The light revealed his attacker to be the black form of a dragon which looked like it was made of a blank ink. The black dragon was cowering in fear of the purple wall of energy descending upon them.

Rey looked back towards the energy to see it rapidly approaching them. He curled up on the ground preparing for his life to be mercilessly squashed by the unknown force. He closed his eyes, waiting for death.

Nothing came. He opened his eyes slowly. He jumped back in terror when he saw the inky black dragon's own eyes staring back at him.

It spoke its voice rasping, "You and I will be one. The master commands it." Then his body melted away into smoke and disappeared.

*.*.*

They had spent a few hours flying, but now Cynder was once more before the Guardians in Terrador's private quarters, an unmarked tent near the center of the camp. The Guardians had decided that it would be best to give Flare some time to collect her thoughts and nourish herself, which she was doing so just outside the Guardians tent, a large roasted deer leg accompanying her. That didn't stop the Guardians from asking Cynder and Flame questions.

"Where did you find her?" Terrador asked, unrolling a map onto the soft grassy floor.

"Half a day's flight southeast of us, just west of the burned lands." Cynder scanned the map for a moment. "Somewhere here." She pointed a talon to the location on the map.

Terrador grunted in frustration. "Does Flare remember any landmarks from where she escaped from? That is a large unpopulated area; it could take weeks to find them there."

"I think she does, but she hasn't told us," Flame answered, the worry on his face evident.

"Why hasn't she told you anything?" Cyril questioned.

Cynder answered him. "So-something happened to her while she was captive." She looked away from the Guardian's face towards the floor. "Something that unnerved her greatly."

"I left a friend, to die," a voice sounded from behind them.

Everyone turned to see Flare walking through the entrance of the tent.

"He died helping me escape. I wouldn't be here without him." Tears began to slip down her muzzle, and she bowed her head as she remembered the other dragon's sacrifice.

Flame eased to her side and rested a comforting paw on her shoulder. Then pulled her into a reassuring embrace. "I-I'm so sorry Flare. I'll never let anything happen to you again I swear it."

The Guardians looked down upon the younger dragons. They had lost many loved ones and friends over the years, and the death of any dragon was a tragedy to them.

Terrador came close to the pair of dragons. "I'm sorry you had to undergo this ordeal, Flare. No one as young as you should have gone through that. I can only remember the words of a friend of mine, that no dragon ever truly dies, and he will live on within in you."

The other Guardians each bowed their heads as they too remembered the many they had loved and lost. A moment of silence overtook the room as all the beloved dead were remembered over the years.

Only after several minutes did Cyril speak, "I do not mean to press young Flare, but who was this unfortunate casualty?"

A distant look covered her eyes as she dredged up the painful memory. "A dragon from the other camp, named Rey."

The Guardians each looked at each other in extreme alarm.

"Volteer isn't that the name of General—"

"Yes it is, General Erwing's son. This, this is unthinkable."

"That isn't even the worst of it," Flare began. All eyes turned back towards her, fearing and dreading what could possibly be worse. "He said..." she paused before continuing as if she had been struck, "…he was going to destroy the world." An abhorred silence fell over the group for a time.

"He wouldn't!" Cynder screamed. "He would never do that! Not after we fought so hard to stop it," she finished quietly.

Flare turned towards her. "Cynder I'm so sorry, but Spyro told me himself."

Cynder began to cry. "It-It's not possible. How could he? She then yelled in frustration and blazing anger, "Why would he!" she rushed out of the tent, her tail blade slicing part of the fabric as she exited, leaving the stunned and frozen group of dragons behind her.

"Flame, Flare, go talk to her and calm her down. Make sure she doesn't do anything she'll regret," Terrador spoke worriedly.

The pair nodded and went after her.

They turned out onto the busy thoroughfare that ran through the middle of the tent city. Many armored dragons were milling about carrying supplies, carrying out orders, and doing the many other tasks that allowed an army to fight, move and function. In all the hustle Flame caught a glimpse of black and magenta. He motioned for Flare to follow him.

They weaved their way through the endless flow of dragons, always trying to keep Cynder in their sights.

"I don't know if Cynder will like us following her," Flare whispered to Flame.

"You heard the Guardians," Flame responded firmly.

At that moment Cynder turned around and began to scan the crowd. Flare shoved Flame behind a large stack of crates that were piled up next to one of the tents. Flame toppled over onto his back with his horns deeply planted into the ground.

"I don't think she saw us," Flare said after a moment.

"Whatever, could you not shove me so hard next time?" Flame asked the annoyed tone in his voice evident as he attempted to stand. His rooted horns however did not allow him, and he fell back to the ground with a loud grunt.

Flare began to snicker at Flame's predicament. A large scowl appeared on his face. "Hurry up and get me out or we are going to lose Cynder."

"Yeah, oops," Flare positioned her horns in between Flame's and the ground and pried Flame's head free.

Now that Flame was free to stand they made their way back into the makeshift street. They scanned every direction for several before Flame turned to Flare and said, "Great, we lost her."

"Let's just go the direction she was heading. Maybe we'll run into her."

They proceeded in the direction they were originally heading in. The amount of dragons began to finally thin as they made their way out of the center of the camp. They continued their search for several more minutes until the tents began to thin, and the patrols could be seen in the fields beyond.

"Ugh, this is pointless. We are almost to the edge of the camp." Flame bowed his head disgruntled at their failure.

"Wait, did we pass Cynder's tent on the way here?" Flare asked excitedly.

"Yeah it's just a little ways back…" He never finished, for Flare had turned and was already springing back towards the camp. "Hey wait up!" Flame called as he ran after her.

Flare came to a screeching halt in front of an unmarked tent that was inconspicuous among the rest. Flame and Flare leaned close towards the entrance flap, able to hear the clanking of armor over the bustle of the rest of the camp.

Flare nodded to Flame and moved the tent flap to the side before walking in unannounced. At the same time Cynder lifted her head out of the chest to reveal a sparkling silver helm upon her head with jagged edges.

She turned and was met face to face with Flame and Flare. Her stunned look was quickly replaced with a deep scowl.

"Look, Cynder, we know what you're doing and we can't allow it," Flame announced, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

Cynder responded, her voice cold and commanding, "Get out of my way."

Flare stepped forward.

"No," She stated, her voice equally chilling.

"I said move." Cynder's face contorted into a threatening growl.

"You know it's suicide to go after them!" Flame yelled, trying to talk some sense into the distraught dragoness.

"I'll die trying then," she said without a hint of fear.

"Then we'll lose every chance we have of saving this world!" Flare yelled in righteous anger. "You are the most powerful dragon we have. Without you the rest of us are doomed. If you go off and die, it will your fault the world is destroyed, not Spyro's."

Cynder's paw rose into the air and for a moment it looked as if she would strike Flare. However some of the Flare's reasoning must have reached her, for she lowered it again reluctantly.

Flame took this chance to speak. "I promise we'll stop him, but we need to do it together."

Cynder let out a heavy sigh and looked towards the ground, her anger leaving her to be replaced by hollow resignation.

"No," she said quietly. "Promise me that you'll help me end this, no matter what it takes..."

She paused, taking another deep breath, and the other young dragons thought they saw a look of grief hidden in her eyes at that moment. Then, she spoke again.

"...Even if it means killing him."

*.*.*

A groan went out through the cave as a lone dragon stirred. Rey made an attempt to rise but never made it off the floor, his muscles screaming in protest.

"Spyro, I think he's awake," a voice came from outside the cave. A few moments later the padding of paws alerted Rey to the approaching presence of other dragons.

"You awake Rey?" he was asked and a paw gently nudged him.

He let out a droning moan. "Oh, my head." He brought his paw up to his forehead and began to tenderly rub it.

"Mine hurt too after the transformation," the voice, Quakes's, told him. "It'll go away in a few hours."

Rey stood up, feeling slightly dizzy at first but it left him quickly enough.

"Come on. I'll bet you want to see what you look like," Quake said giving him a slight nudge. "It's quite shocking."

They walked from the dark of the cave into the hazy sunshine. Once outside, Spyro covered a bare face of rock with a sheet of ice and Rey stepped into its view. He jumped back in surprise.

"I-I look…"

"…like you could scare small hatchlings?" Quake finished for him. "Yeah, we all do."

Rey stepped closer towards the makeshift mirror, eyeing his appearance. His formerly orange scales were closer to scarlet. He was never a muscular dragon, but now his physique was clearly defined. His claws were longer and serrated, as if they urged to rip flesh, and his horns appeared more deadly. He looked, no, felt like he was made for war, as if it was his singular purpose.

He gawked at his appearance for a few more minutes, examining every inch of his body. He was about to turn when he finished when a sulfuric glint attracted his attention. He realized that the glint was his eyes, now a sulfuric yellow and resembling the eyes of snakes. He felt disgusted with himself, like he had become what he hated and despised, and he did it willingly. The others seemed to notice his emotions.

"It's okay that you are not comfortable, Rey," Spyro began. "Your aversion shows that you still have a good heart and the will to do the right thing."

Rey saw the reassuring look in his eye. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but whom and what was that thing in my head? At least I think it was in my head."

"That was the inner evil that was inside of you," Spyro answered.

"My inner evil?"

"Yes, it is in all of us, however most keep it locked up and hidden away in our subconscious. When the darkness invaded your body it released your other half. It would have consumed you had it told it not too."

"So the purple light was you then? Well thanks, I suppose. Anything you need me to do?"

"For right now? Stand back a little," Spyro responded.

"For what?" Rey questioned.

"Just watch," Quake told him. "Last time I saw this, I nearly wet myself."

"What are you talking about?" Rey said, even more confused.

"Humor is lost on you, Rey. Just get in the air for a little while okay?"

Quake took off with a powerful flap of his wings and took a position several dozen meters off the ground. Rey quickly followed. He began hovering next to Quake.

"What's he going to do?"

"You'll see. It's starting now," Quake said, pointing towards Spyro.

Rey turned to look to see Spyro glowing with a purple energy. It began to thrash out from him in purple streams like a caged beast. Several streams would strike the ground kicking up dirt and rocks, leaving a small steaming crater. It then shrank and travelled to Spyro's front paws. A brilliant flash of purple light blinded Rey momentarily, forcing him to shut his eyes. When he opened them a purple shockwave was travelling across the ground. Behind it the earth itself began to move.

*.*.*

The guards stood at rigid attention outside of the Earth Guardian's tent. Two guards stood beside the entrance while another pair stood facing them each looking for the others to make a move to attack. Each pair each was wearing different symbols on their armor. One of the city of Warfang, a roaring dragon, and the other guards wore that of the colonies, a dragon holding a vine and spears.

At one point an angry uproar was heard inside the tent, and the guards had taken a stance against each other. However after several tense moments Erwing himself emerged and calmed the guards that had accompanied him.

Several minutes had passed since then. The camp had quieted down now, and the guards could not resist listening in.

"I understand you mourn for the loss of your son, but us Guardians implore that you see our reasoning." A higher pitched and excited voice said insistently.

"Suppose I do agree to your alliance. What keeps you from stabbing me in the back when it is all over?"

A lower, more methodical voice replied, "We are not barbarians that would resort to such cowardly maneuvers!"

"Do we have an agreement?" The low tone of Terrador's voice was the first to be recognized.

"If you follow the terms then I believe so. This is far more important than our countries' petty feud. Dane, I need a witness."

One of the guards from outside made a move towards the entrance. The Warfangian guards permitted him entrance for the summons. He moved inside and glanced quickly at the dragons around the room, three younglings and three older dragons he assumed to be the Guardians.

"You are to witness this," the great general spoke to him. "As of immediately the Army of Warfang and the Army of the Colonies are in alliance."

Thanks to DragonMaster00 for beta reading and providing his excellent critique.

I also believe a little explanation is in order for my absence. As most everyone knows schools started at the end of August. I have an 18 hour work load with classes that all require advanced mathematics. So as you can imagine I spend A LOT of time doing homework and studying. It really has affected my ability to write on a regular basis. I apologize in advance for long waits. I'll try to be faster, but I cannot make any promises.

As always please review. I enjoy every comment and critique.