Chapter 4: Reunion

"Behind you!"

The warning was all Spyro needed. The young dragon slid to a halt from his run, claws digging into the earth, and swung his whole body around in a wingbeat. Without hesitation, Spyro opened his jaws and unleashed his elemental power.

The temperature dropped. Ice shards, strong as rocks and razor-sharp, rented the air with shrill whistles. Rats cried out in surprise as the barrage washed over them, few having the time to raise their wooden shields. The unluckiest one jerked her head back, collapsed sideway, and then proceeded to bleed to death, clawing frantically at the shard lodged in her throat. He tried not to look her way.

A jagged javelin flew his way. Spyro paused and then spun around, his tail-blade bashing it aside mid-air. He readied another attack, but it was too late. With the same speed they had appeared, the rats scattered, disappearing from the main gallery through the aid of side passages. The next moment, the tunnel behind them was deserted.

"Thanks for the heads-up," Spyro said, trying to catch his breath. Translucent wings buzzed softly as Sparx hovered back to his side.

"Oh, don't mention it. I said I had your back, didn't I? Besides, I can't exactly give you a hand in the fighting being . . . well you know." He waved a hand around, as if to emphasize the size difference between the two of them.

The young dragon let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I get it. Still, thank you."

By his side, a frowning Hunter lowered his bow, an arrow still nocked.

"This was the fourth time they've done that," Spyro said to the cheetah. "They just pop into view and then scurry back and hide. Why? What are they trying to do?"

"I am unsure," he honestly replied. "I find it suspicious as well."

"It's because they are cowards!" Zara snapped, hefting her spear and twirling it in her paw. "The Dark Master's servants are by nature. They know they have no chance against us, so they are hoping to just get lucky." The fennec snorted. "Idiots, all of them."

"Let's hope that makes things easier then," Spyro pointed out. "You sure we are going the right way? These tunnels are starting to look all the same to me."

The fennec nodded. "It shouldn't take too long. The two of us alone were quicker on the way in, but we just need to deal with these annoying idiots for good . . ."

"They are not idiots," Hunter coolly replied. "They are a lot of things, but they're not idiots. Just because we cannot see the design behind their actions, it doesn't mean there isn't any."

Zara simply rolled her eyes in response.

"Riiight . . . now, this is interesting and all, but how about we get going? We are wasting time right now." Sparx said. He flinched back in momentary panic as Hunter whipped his head in his direction. His eyelids blinked, slowly.

"Time . . ." he repeated. His eyes darted briefly behind, from where rat patrols had been harassing them the very moment they had begun moving down one of the main tunnels. For the first time, Spyro heard him spat a loud curse.

"Of course, time!" He whirled back to his three companions. "I've been such an idiot!"

"You said it, not me," Zara quipped.

"They're delaying us! Both of you, run! Keep running until you reach the end of the tunnel! If they manage to close it off, we're trapped here!" He shot a glance to the fennec. "Zara, you're taking point from now on."

"Finally!"

"What about you?" Spyro interjected. "We're not leaving you here."

He could hear them from further down the tunnel. Illumination was scarce there, the strange glowing stones few and far in between, yet he didn't need eyes to know that the rats were coming once again. Shadows and silhouettes shifted into view through secret passageways, as if they were emerging from the wall themselves, accompanied by the omnipresent chittering.

Then the drums came. Low and deep, the rhythmic thumping travelled their way, pounding in their ears like the beating of a dozen hearts.

Hunter shook his head. He placed a paw on the young dragon's shoulder. "Do not worry about me. Get to safety. I'll be right behind you. Now go!"

Spyro hesitated. It proved to be a mistake.

"There! The Purple Dragon!"

Spyro whipped his head behind. The biggest and meanest-looking rat he had ever seen was pointing at them, muzzle twisted into a snarl of pure fury. Clad entirely in heavy armour, he held in his paws what was effectively the deranged union between a longsword and a meat-cleaver. Even more worrying however was the mass of rats standing behind him, to the point the rest of the tunnel had effectively disappeared behind a wall of spears, swords, axes, shields, and plate armour. Countless pairs of malevolent, yellow eyes glinted in the darkness.

'Uh-oh.'

That simple thought was all his mind managed to formulate. On the other hand, Hunter recovered far quicker. Spyro caught the twang of the cheetah's bow just as another steel-tipped arrow whistled through the air . . . and then bounced off the rat's steel helmet.

Still, it did something. The rat blinked, as if baffled that the cheetah had in fact dared to shoot at him. The distraction was all they needed.

"Run!" Hunter barked, and this time Spyro didn't hesitate. He and Hunter rushed down the passageway as fast as their legs could carry them, the cheetah's cloak flying wildly behind him. Zara was just a few dozen feet ahead of them, leading the way.

"This way!" she called out, barely looking over her shoulder.

"A reward for whoever gets him alive! Slaughter the others!"

A roar came from behind.

It was the only way to describe the sheer cacophony of noise, the clattering, chittering, hollering, and howling, crashing and meshing together until they became a physical force slamming into them like a veritable tide.

Spyro didn't look. He didn't dare to think about just how many rats had bolted his way; about how close they were getting, their clawed feet scratching the earth. He focused solely on putting a paw in front of the other, as quickly as he could, his muscles burning with newly-found exertion.

By his side, Sparx had looked behind. He knew that because the dragonfly sounded as if he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god . . ."

They never stopped running, the glowing stones and their alcoves rushing past them in a blur. Spyro didn't bother to count them, even if to just get an idea of how long they had been running. Occasionally the large passageway would split up in two or three different tunnels, each leading to some unknown part of the underground complex. Zara led them left, then right, then left again, never slowing down for a moment.

Did the fennec know where she was going? Was she just guessing? Either way, they were going somewhere, that was for sure. Spyro's jaws clenched as he glanced to the side. Hunter was running, yet something felt wrong in his stride. It was as if he was deliberately slowing himself down. Spyro had seen him run before. He could have easily kept up with Zara; probably outpaced her.

A dart blurred past them, passing just above Hunter's right shoulder. It clattered against the ground some distance ahead of them.

And then it clicked.

'It's because of me. He's here to protect me, to make sure I get to safety. He's slowing down to keep up with me.'

Spyro's mind raced. He had to find a solution, and fast, before Hunter got himself killed because of him. Ahead, Zara swung hard to the right and into another passageway. They kept on following her; wooden plates hung occasionally from the ceiling, strange symbols scratched over them. Indications? Spyro didn't have the time to dwell on it.

He thought about using his wings and let them propel him forward, now that the tunnel was more spacious, but quickly discarded that idea. Flying meant unfolding his wings, which in turn meant slowing down long enough to spread them fully. Besides, he hadn't stretched his wings since he had woken up on that operating table. And with a horde of rats on his heels, the young dragon didn't trust pushing his luck that much.

The ground beneath his claws changed and the naked, hardened earth gave way to a smoother surface. Spyro glanced down, blinking as he noticed the cobblestone pavement.

The idea burst into his mind like a petard.

"Keep running!" Spyro yelled, a white freezing mist gathering around his muzzle. "Don't stop!"

His claws screeched against the stone as the young dragon skid to a halt and swung around, eyes narrowing in concentration, coils of condensation forming around him.

"Are you crazy!?" Sparx shouted in wild panic. Spyro's ears caught something that might have resembled Hunter's voice as well, though his mind never fully registered it. Everything else became background noise.

One hundred feet stood between him and a tide of rat warriors as they rushed down the passageway. They had seen him turning around, ready to face them. They could see the snowy-white glow in his mouth. Many slowed down, cautiously anticipating an attack from the young dragon.

The veterans amongst them did not. Ten rat warriors never stopped, weapons raised and ready to strike, armour clinking and clattering as they run. Harsh training and experience had overrun their most basic survival instincts, replacing them with single-minded certainty that Spyro had the time to target just one of them. Whether or not his aim would prove flawless was inconsequential; at least nine out of ten would have closed the distance before he had the time for another attack.

It would have been a sound strategy, but Spyro was not aiming at them.

A jet of concentrated frost erupted from the dragon's jaws and flew low, covering the smooth cobblestones with a thin ice patina in a matter of moments.

The result was almost comical. One second, the rat warriors were running, ready for the kill; the next, their clawed feet lost purchase and they fell, tripping and sliding across the ice, their own momentum turned against them. A couple tried to climb back to their feet but to no avail; they were rewarded by another unglamourous tumble onto the frozen ground, hissing and groaning in pain.

The rest of the rats grounded to a halt on the other side of the newly formed frozen lake now standing between them and their prey. They dithered some distance away, unsure on what to do.

"That should buy us some more time," Spyro commented, failing to contain a growing grin before his handiwork. Sparx let out an exhausted sigh.

"How about you give me a heads-up next time you're about to do something stupid?"

"Hey, it worked!" Spyro shot his friend a bemused look.

"Yes, I'm still in shock that even happened. Now, can we please-"

"Spyro!"

The young dragon had no time to react as something tackled him from behind, forcing him down. Piercing whistles filled the air the next moment as a barrage of crossbow bolts passed over their heads, missing them by a few feet at most. Only then Spyro registered Hunter's form standing over and shielding him.

As soon as the barrage had passed, the cheetah jumped back to his feet, drew an arrow from his quiver and then notched it in one fluid motion. The bowstring went back, taunt, and then snapped forward with a twang. A rat warrior from the other side jerked and dropped without a sound, an arrow shaft where his left eye was supposed to be.

Hunter wasted not a single moment; he reached out with an arm and hauled Spyro back to his feet.

"Go!" he hollered, his face flushed. "Go!"

"Crossbows, reload for another volley! The rest of you, get to work!" The armoured rat from before snarled at his subordinates. He raised his cleaver-like weapon high and swung it down. Chunks and bits of ice flew as cracks appeared on the surface. The rest of the rats got to work and furiously swung their weapons down, shattering the thin ice and carving a path forward.

Biting his lower lips, Spyro followed Hunter further down the tunnel. He had bought them some time, but he would not get the chance to take advantage of that. The two of them run as fast as they could, trying to get out of crossbow's range.

"What were you thinking?!" Hunter snapped at him, face reddened by the effort.

"I just wanted to-"

"You could have gotten hurt!"

"And you?" Spyro countered. "I saw what you were doing. You were willingly slowing yourself down for me, weren't you? Nevermind that you tried to use your own body as a shield!"

The expression on Hunter's face became unreadable, his mouth twisting in a grimace. Was it pain? Something else maybe? Finally, he shook his head.

"I made a promise to Ignitus to-"

"To get killed for me? What kind of promise is that? I appreciate it, really, but I can handle myself."

"This is far bigger than you and me, young dragon! The fate of the whole world hinges on-"

Hunter hesitated, seemingly catching himself before more words could escape him. He remained stoically silent after that, and Spyro didn't get the chance to ask him to elaborate further.

The tunnel opened up in a circular antechamber, a large entryway standing on the other side. A thick set of wooden doors waited half-open, as if frozen in place. The reason for that became evident soon enough, in the form of several rat warriors' bodies laying sprawled around the entrance. Zara stood amidst them, huffing and puffing, her short spear in one paw and a curved knife in the other. There was blood dripping down from both, and her scarf hung loosely around her shoulders.

"Where in V'hutan's name have you two been?!" she snapped as they drew closer, droplets of sweat glistening against her fur. Her head then whipped in Hunter's direction, a fierce scowl taking shape.

"And you! Why did you even want me to take point if you don't even plan on fol-"

She stopped. Her expression shifted too, the previous anger evaporating.

"Are you alright?" Spyro opened his mouth to reply before stopping himself. He realized she was not talking to him, but to Hunter. There was an evident worry in her voice.

"As much . . . as much as it can be e-expected," the cheetah replied. He was panting, seemingly struggling to inhale. "Now, let's . . . let's go."

Zara blinked, the fennec appearing insecure for a moment before finally nodding. She waved at them to follow her past the set of doors and into the new chamber.

"Whoa," Spyro breathed. His eyes fell on the locomotive waiting on a set of rails stretching before them until they disappear into dark tunnels in front and behind. Though not as impressive as the engine Spyro had faced during his fight in the Munition Forge, the model was certainly impressive, a veritable mass of wrought iron with copper tubes running along its chassis. A couple of open cargo-carts waited behind, empty. Soft whiffs of curling, white smoke hung over the chimney.

"Right. I guess this is our ticket out of here then," Sparx commented. "I was about to do my best impression of a conductor, but I've got no whistle with me. Or a hat."

"I don't think a hat would fit you anyway," Spyro pointed out with a smirk.

"Way to crush my dreams buddy."

"Your dreams of . . . being a train conductor?" Spyro arched an eye-ridge.

"Why? Is there something wrong about that?" Sparx replied with a grin of his own.

"I . . . you know what, I'm not even going to comment on it." He looked away and back towards the small terminal. Piles of wooden boxes were piled up there, waiting to be loaded on the cargo carts. Something that would not happen any time soon.

"So, ahem, does anyone knows how a train works?" Spyro finally spoke up. The glances he received did nothing to reassure him.

Sparx simply crossed his arms. "Don't look at me. You know damn well we don't have those fancy gizmos back home."

Hunter let out a long, drawn-out sigh. He raised a paw to massage his temple.

"Zara," he said at length, "did you propose to employ the railways as an escape route without knowing how a train operates?"

"Well, I . . ." she hesitated, eyes blinking as the full weight of the cheetah's words hit her. "I . . . I thought we could have forced a rat to tell us how, or something."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "You mean like the dead rats back there?" the cheetah said, tilting his head towards the entrance. There was the faintest trace of a grin on his lips.

Zara noticed it and, unlike him, was not amused in the slightest. She planted both paws on her hips and glared at him silently. Hunter did not back down, and the silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable seconds.

Sparx fluttered closer to Spyro's ear. "I don't know about you, buddy, but I think those two should seriously get a room at this rate."

A snort escaped Spyro's muzzle. He quickly turned it into a cough as both felines snapped their heads his way, at the same time. And then their gazes moved up and past him. Before he had the time to speak, Spyro heard footsteps on metal echoing behind him. In a moment he swung around, tail-blade at the ready. And then blinked.

"Alright, I think it should work now. Not sure for how long though, but we should have enough coal for a while. Now, if you're done, how about we get . . . going . . ."

The otter stopped, his shaggy fur covered in coal dust. He had been busy wiping his face with a worn cloth, but it hung now in his hands, almost forgotten. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. From behind, Spyro caught the rasp of Zara's knife leaving the sheath.

"You're not Cynder."

The words alone were more akin to a slap into Spyro's face.

"What?" It was a reflex, the question coming out before Spyro's mind had the time to catch up with was happening.

"I mean, you both have similar scale colour, don't you? More or less. You're just a bit more purple than she is and . . ." The otter scratched the back of his head. "You are . . . well, you are him, aren't you?"

"Him?"

"The Purple Dragon," the otter said. "You have purple scales, so you've got to be him. You are him, yes? The Dragon of Legends, the Saviour of the World, and all that stuff. Can't really remember all the titles off my head. I . . . uhm, I'm not even sure how I should address you right now. As I said, not very good with titles. I was about to go with 'your excellency'."

"How about you just call me Spyro?"

"I don't know, I like the whole title idea. 'His Excellency Spyro the Dragon' does have a nice ring to it." Sparx chuckled. The otter furrowed his eyebrows.

"Please ignore him, just Spyro will do. You mentioned Cynder before. You know her?"

"I mean, kinda? Not really sure if I know her, but we were trying to get out of here together. I don't know where she is right now. If you're not her, it means she's still in that big cavern. I've been too busy trying to figure out how this big piece of junks works."

For the first time, Spyro's eyes narrowed to slits. "You mean to tell me you've left her behind?!" A puff of smoke came out of his nostrils as he took a step forward. The otter took notice of that, and quickly went on the defensive.

"Whoa whoa, not like that! Besides, that's literally what she told me to do! She gave me the look, told me find the train, and wait for her until she was finished."

"The . . . look?" Sparx cut in. The otter nodded.

"Yeah, the look. You know, the 'I will literally rent you limb from limb' kind of look."

"Oh yeah, I know what you mean. Yup, that's her for sure"

"Finished with what?" Spyro asked.

The otter shrugged. "I . . . well not sure. Looking for you, I guess? She was kinda adamant about that."

For one single, eternal moment Spyro felt his whole body going rigid.

And then something dropped behind him.

"Hunter!" Zaria cried out.

The cheetah had collapsed on his knees, breathing heavily and eyes watering. He held his right side, bow discarded on the ground, panting. Spyro's eyes widened as he noticed the cut in his robes and the bloodstains.

"You damned mule!" Zara snapped, the fennec helping Hunter getting into a sitting position. "Why didn't you say that you've been hurt?" She pulled out her knife, cutting at his robes to get a better look at his wound. She darted to the side, scooping up his bag.

"It's . . . it's alrigh- . . . uh . . ." Hunter blinked, his eyes struggling to focus.

"It's not alright! It is in fact as far from alright as it could ever be! The crossbow bolt was probably poisoned!"

"W-Wait, poisoned?" Spyro asked. The fennec nodded, emptying the bag on the floor in a hurry and scooping up a series of ingredients, utensils, and strange-looking plants.

"They love to do to that. Blades, spears, arrows; you name it, they've probably put poison on it. Most of the times it's arrows though. Luckily for him, we are talking about unguents produced quickly and in mass quantities, so the poison is weak. It will knock you out for a few hours and you'll wake up puking your very soul out, but you should be alright."

Zara looked up, snatching a few of the dry plants and crushing them in a bowl. "His wound is probably infected by now though. I must be quick." She glanced over her shoulder. "If you want to find your dragon friend, you'd better hurry up."

Spyro gritted his teeth. "I'm not leaving you, nor him, here. We'll find Cynder together."

"No. Hunter can't walk, not if he wants to recover. And the only way you'll get him to move is by carrying him."

"I . . . I can w-walk-" Hunter mumbled as he struggled to climb back to his feet. Zara stopped him, pushing him effortlessly back down. So easily in fact that Hunter blinked in astonishment, as if realizing his weakness for the first time.

"You were saying?"

He shot her an irritated look, opting to remain silent instead.

"Now, as I was saying," the fennec resumed as she went back working on her ingredients, "if you want to go find your friend, you'll have to go on your own. We will close those doors at the entrance and wait for your return. They should be sturdy enough to keep the rats at bay." She paused. "Well, as long as they don't bring anything heavier to bear."

"That's the only way out though," Spyro pointed out. "They are probably waiting for us just outside!"

"Well, that's not actually true. There are plenty of smaller tunnels all over this place. That's how I got here," Remy said.

Spyro shot him a look. "So what you're saying is, you can guide me back to Cynder?"

"Well, I . . . ah . . ." Remy opened his mouth but no word came out. His mind finally caught up with what he had just said. "Ah hell. I've volunteered myself, didn't I? I should learn to keep my mouth shut."

"Welcome to the club," Sparx said.

"Will he be okay?" Spyro asked quietly, glancing worryingly at Hunter. His breathing had become considerably heavier in the meantime.

"I know a family recipe that should kick him back to his feet," Zara said. "Leave it to me. Just go now."

Spyro paused for just a moment. Hunter glanced up and their gazes met. The cheetah seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but not a sound came out, his face giving but an inkling of the struggle raging inside him. In the end, Hunter settled on a simple nod. Spyro's replied with one of his own. There was no need for words.

'I'll be careful. I promise.'

The otter sighed, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder. "Alright, I guess we might as well get this over with."

He stopped for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to give Spyro a grin. "Name's Remy by the way. Happy to make your acquaintance. Come on then, the tunnel is this way. Hopefully your friend is just late."

Ω

Cynder knew well enough what fear was.

In its most basic form, fear was a thought, a net of self-reinforcing sensations burgeoning into a wider state of mind. There was nothing physical about it, except regarding the effects on those affected. Fear spread from the mind; it travelled through veins and nerves; infected organs; seized and paralyzed muscles. From there, fear morphed into terror; and terror meant death.

Cynder knew fear. She had studied it, perfected, and finally wielded it as a weapon on the battlefield. For a very long time she had been the embodiment of fear itself. The 'Terror of the Skies' was a simple title like any other, what mattered was the effect her mere presence had time and again on her opponents.

And yet, despite everything, she couldn't claim to be immune to it.

"Come on, don't be shy. Reveal yourself and face me properly." Ludovicus's mocking voice echoed in her ears. The wolf strode through the empty laboratory, each step slow and deliberate. The longsword had come out from the sheath and now rested against his right shoulder pauldron. Blood-soaked runes and icons along the blade glowed, the magic from the enchantments dripping into the surrounding air, almost humming.

His head craned one way and the other, sniffing. He grinned.

"I can smell you. I savoured your smell the very moment I stepped in this filthy rat-infested hole. Show yourself now, and you have my word I'll be quick."

From her hiding place, Cynder struggled to suppress a grimace. Her heart felt like it was crawling its way up her throat. The shadows around her shifted and churned, hiding her presence to the untrained eye. It wasn't a great expenditure of her own reserves; as long as she maintained her distance, she was effectively invisible.

'For now.'

The dragoness slipped beneath a couple of working benches and came to a stop behind another pile of crates, careful to place herself never too close to one of the hanging lanterns. There were plenty of shadows she could use. The wolf sniffed again, his head snapping her way for a brief moment before scanned his surroundings.

He had detected her, Cynder was sure of it. A chill began running its way through her spine.

With enough time he would eventually get a fix on her location, and Shadow wouldn't help her much then. She risked peering over her cover. The wolf's armour, a mix of chainmail and more robust plates hidden under a tabard, sported glowing glyphs as well, even if duller.

'All his equipment seems to be enchanted. A head-on assault would amount to a very brief and messy suicide. I must be smart.'

Creeping and hiding in the shadows; striking at the most opportune moment. It was a deadly dance she had performed countless times in the past, and that knowledge helped sooth her now-racing heart.

"Hiding won't save you, dragon. Come out before I start losing my patience." The wolf's sinister chuckle echoed around the lab. "You don't want to see me when I am angry."

'He's just trying to scare you. He wants you to do something stupid. Keep your nerves girl.'

Her breathing slowed, eyes narrowing to slits. The footsteps echoed closer as the wolf started to make his way towards her, licking his lips. He had found her.

'No. He just has your scent. He doesn't know where you are. You are the Terror of the Skies. Put this upstart in his place and drag his screaming carcass to its grave.'

Cynder inhaled deeply. Behind, her tail-bladeglowed a sickly green. The footsteps grew louder, together with the soft clinking of armour. He was close enough that she could smell him as well. Her whole body tensed up in anticipation, a loaded spring ready to explode into violence.

Ludovicus came around the corner, sword at the ready as he sneered.

"End of the line, dra-"

He paused.

Cynder knew he would. Shadow still hid her, but he was now close enough to notice. A moment was all his eyes needed to realize that there was, in fact, something before him. He would have needed another one to actually make out the shape hiding behind the pile of crates, the light bending unnaturally around it.

Cynder didn't give him the chance.

The dragoness leapt past him, her Wind element turning her into a blur, cutting through the air at breakneck speed. Her Poison-imbued tail-blade lashed out as she went. Bone crashed against steel, and the wolf staggered back, hissing. The enchanted blade whistled inches away from her head.

Cynder swung around, readying another attack, but the wolf had recovered. Her tail-blade was batted aside in a quick exchange of blows, and he went for the counterattack. The first thrust was close, missing simply because her opponent aimed too high. The following downward swing cut only through air as Cynder leaped back and out of the way.

There was a pause as both took the chance to catch their breath and assess the damage done. Cynder lowered herself into a wider combat stance, tail-blade held high, wings flared. The exchange had lasted two seconds.

There was a scratch on the wolf's armour, inches away from his collarbone. The enchantments on that part of his outfit now burned brighter, seemingly countering the corroding effects of her Poison. She scowled.

'A close one. Aim it more carefully next time.'

"That's it?" Ludovicus growled, the wolf's eyes narrowed. "You are all they could spare against me? I've spent the last three years butchering your kind, and this is all your precious Guardians bothered to send to kill me. A teen!" He scoffed, then shifted his guard a bit lower, adjusting his two-handed grip.

"I feel insulted."

"Stop talking," Cynder hissed. Again, she called upon Shadow. She surged ahead, blinking in and out of view as she dashed to his right side, then the left. Ludovicus stepped back, anticipating an attack but not knowing from where. Battle-honed instincts were the only thing that saved him.

Cynder's tail-blade blinked back into view, slashing for his head, only to be bashed aside by the wolf's sword. Again, Cynder blinked out of view, only to reappear behind him, tail posed to strike.

Ludovicus whirled around with a snarl, the sword turning into a blur in his paws. Sparks flew and steel rung out against hardened bone. Cynder had no other choice but to blend back into the shadow and reappear at a safer distance away, much to the wolf's annoyance.

"I have faced many dragons before, yet I don't remember ever meeting one with your abilities." A small grin appeared on Ludovicus's features. The two began circling around each other, exhaling slowly.

"You used Wind before, yes? I thought dragons had affinity only to one element though."

"I said stop talking," Cynder spat, eyes narrowing.

The wolf chuckled, raised his blade and charged her, his movement surprisingly swift for someone his size. Without missing a beat, Cynder met him head on. Or at least, that was what she made him believe.

The sword came down for her head, only to again cut through nothing as her body melted with the room's penumbra. In the blink of an eye, she was above him, Cynder's body flickering back into existence on the hanging gangway. She readied her Poison-enhanced tail-blade and claws for a final attack, to strike him from above and split his head open in one single, clean swipe.

Except she didn't. The wolf swung around, eyes flickering upward to her hiding place. Cynder couldn't hide her momentary annoyance as they locked gaze.

'Something's wrong. How does he know where I am? Smell alone is not enough to explain it.'

Cynder found herself grinning. Despite everything, she was grinning. The thrill of the fight; the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She had almost forgotten how good it felt, the sheer elation of knowing that she was finally facing an opponent on par with her, instead of mere henchmen. Her heart hammered against her chest, as if yearning to burst out.

'I'm . . . I'm enjoying this?'

"If I had known we were going to receive such a renowned guest here, I would have cleaned up first!" Ludovicus growled with some amusement. He gave her a mocking bow.

"You honour us with your presence, Commander Cynder. I am Ludovicus Traius, Crown Price to the throne of Aquilia." The wolf's eyes glinted maliciously. "My apologies for not recognizing you before. Truth to be told, I thought you'd bigger. I guess legends and tales have a tendency to exaggerate things, don't they?"

The dragoness chuckled. "What gave me away?"

"Shadow, Wind, and Poison. Those are not elements usually associated with normal dragons. Is there a fourth one as well?" Cynder didn't reply. Her grin, however, broadened a little. She licked her lips.

"You are lucky I am the one who found you here. The other commanders would have not hesitated to cut your head off on the spot." He shook his head. "Such lack of chivalry."

"Am I now? I thought you were famous for killing dragons."

"You've heard about me?" His face brightened. "I should feel honoured that the Terror of the Skies herself is aware of my exploits. And the Crimson Blades', of course. We are but a humble mercenary outfit, serving Malefor at the best of our abilities." He shrugged. "Admittedly, we do sometimes get carried away with it."

Cynder didn't reply. Her eyes flicked away from him and toward the other side of the laboratory. The dragoness, Ophelia, still laid there, the body scarred by the abuse suffered and surrounded by a pool of her own blood. Her empty, glassy eyes were open. They stared at her. Even from that distance, Cynder was sure of it. She fought hard not to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

'What's the problem? Weren't you having fun a moment ago?'

Her excitement waned and died, only for cold hatred to surge through and settle in its place.

"You are nothing more than a murderer," Cynder growled through clenched teeth. "And a stupid one at that. Oh, I know your kind. You get drawn in by the promise of wealth and power, and the next moment you are ready to dance for the Dark Master like puppets on strings!"

She shook her head. "And for what? Malefor is still trapped in the Well of Souls, his power a fraction of what it was! So tell me, what makes you think for a single moment that he would be willing to share a drop of that power with any of his pawns?"

The wolf shot her a curious look, arching a single eyebrow.

"You call me a murderer?" He burst out laughing. "Forgive me for sounding banal, but if half the tales I've heard are true, you are the last dragon that should call anyone a murderer!"

Cynder's eyes narrowed to small slits, burning hot with the same intensity of smouldering coal.

"As for the rest, well, seems like someone here has been sleeping for a bit too long, hasn't she?" Ludovicus said with a grin. "You might find that things have drastically changed in your absence, commander. If you get out here alive, that is."

"What are you implying with that?" The wolf shook his head.

"Nevermind. As I said, there's no point in dragging this out any longer. You won't survive the next hour, and I doubt the Dark Master would want you back anyway, not when we are on the cusp of victory. The rats of Jackai-Kul will feast on what remains of your bones."

Cynder tilted her head to the side.

"Bold words, but you'll have to find me first."

The dragoness stepped back, the shadow casted over the gangway churning and enveloping her body completely.

"And hope I'm not the one flaying you alive first."

Ludovicus grinned, his smile a savage one. He lifted his blade high into the air. The glyphs and runes glowed and pulsated on the steel. From a distance, they appeared not dissimilar from blood veins, running and intertwining across the entire length of the blade. As one, the lanterns went out, plunging the entire environment into pitch-black darkness.

Cynder raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. What was he hoping to do? Shadow was her element; she could perfectly see in the dark. Such tricks might admittedly work against unprepared opponents, maybe even other dragons, but surely he couldn't have hoped to surprise her.

She blinked.

The wolf was gone. Cynder leaned over the gangway's railing and down below, eyes widening in alarm. Nothing. It was as if he had never been there to begin with. The realization struck her the next moment.

'No. No, it can't . . .'

Something moved in her eye's corner. Frenzied instincts screamed in her mind, and Cynder leapt out of the way. Sparks flew as Ludovicus's sword cut through the weak chain-railing like a hot knife on butter. The faint glow from the runes was the only indication Cynder received of the follow-up attack.

The dragoness brought up her tail-blade, only for a savage up-ward swing to smash it aside and opening a hole in her defence. She never saw the blade coming back down.

Again, instinct saved her. She leaped back, Wind carrying her far outside the sword's range, just as pain exploded in her chest. Steel met scales. Cynder stumbled back into existence, her breathing short. She reached up with a claw to her chest, eyes widening as claws found the crack in her natural armour. There was no blood, for now.

And right where she had been standing, Ludovicus stepped back into view, seemingly out of thin air. His sword glowed as the wolf held it before him, the burning runes giving his grin an almost otherworldly appearance.

"You are right on one thing," he announced. "The Dark Master does indeed promise us power. And sometimes, he delivers on that promise. Now, let's see how strong the 'Terror of the Skies' really is."

Cynder hissed, eyes shifting towards the glyphs.

"You can wield Shadow?!"

"Impressive, isn't it? You can say many things about Malefor, but he does reward those that bring him results." He tapped with a claw against the blade, the enchantment pulsating with each tap.

"The Crimson Blades have been quite proficient on that aspect, so he has been so kind to share a few of his tricks with us. We get stronger, kill dragons, and the Dark Master gets closer to victory. A perfect arrangement, I'll say."

She snarled. "Idiot! You are a child playing with powers beyond your understanding!"

"Oh, I think I understand it quite well. Here, let me show you."

Ludovicus blinked out of view, and then reappeared back in front of her, sword raised. The dragoness shifted to the side, dodged the blow, and lashed out with her tail-blade.

Tail and claws clashed against steel, the darkness within the laboratory broken by the occasional flying sparks as the two opponents squared off in a deadly dance on the gangways.

Each shifted in and out of view. They regained physical form for just an eyeblink, either to attack or trick the other to overextend themselves and opening their guard. It was a chess match, except fought with swords and claws, and for much higher stakes; a literal fight against the shadows themselves done at breakneck speed.

Grinding her teeth, Cynder tapped on all her own elemental reserve, pushing herself to the limit. She maintained the pressure on Ludovicus, denying him the space and chance to strike back.

The wolf could wield Shadow as well thank to his sword, but Cynder quickly realized that he moved in predictable patterns. Combining her Shadow mastery and wings, the dragoness struck from every angle imaginable: above; behind; even beneath if she had the chance. If she was too close for the tail-blade, Poison-imbued claws came into play.

And yet Ludovicus still refused to die. Each of his parry, dodge, and strike were on point. He made up for his still limited control of the element with frightening swordsmanship. The sword itself blurred through the air as if weightless in his paws.

Cynder struck back. She ignored the burning fatigue creeping in her muscles, just like the pounding headache as her own elemental reserves were progressively tapped dry. Cynder pushed herself on and on, hatred alone fuelling her like a raging firestorm.

She hated Malefor for what she had done to her, and for the powers she had never asked for. She hated Ludovicus for the self-admitted mass-murderer he was. And above all else, she hated herself for enjoying all of this.

Hatred fuelled her, pushing her body far past its natural limits. Yet hatred alone could not sustain her forever. And eventually, Cynder overextended herself.

Her tail-blade lashed out with more strength than intended, upsetting her balance at the worst moment. Ludovicus shifted out of view, reappeared to her side, and then lashed out with a free paw.

Pain exploded across her face as the fist connected. Her head spun and the dragoness staggered back. She clenched her teeth together, pushing through the pain, calling upon Shadow so to again blink away and then melt away in the surrounding darkness.

It didn't happen. Her elemental reserves were dry. Something smashed into her chest and the dragoness found herself thrown back against the chain-railing. Metal snapped in her ears, and the next moment she was in free-fall. Natural instinct took over and she tried to spread her wings, but to no avail. There was simply not enough space.

Cynder crashed hard through one of the worktables and then to the floor the next moment. Fresh pain exploded across her entire body, the fall knocking the wind out of her with strangled groan. Exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and Cynder found her attempts to climb back to her feet a feat in on itself. She could feel her chest raising and falling, her heart beating like in a frenzy.

"Still alive down there?" Cynder glanced up, scowling.

Ludovicus was still there with his unsufferable grin. He tried to hide it, but Cynder noticed the wolf leaning heavily against his sword, panting. Additional scratches were visible across his armour, the runes now burning even brighter to counter the effect of Poison. The fact that she had indeed managed to hit him multiple time was not a great consolation.

"Are you planning on giving up anytime soon?"

Cynder spat blood on the ground. Despite the burning fatigue, she settled herself into the approximation of a shaking combat stance.

"Suit yourself then." He lifted up his sword and frowned. The glyphs were now duller, the magic from the enchantment spent. He shot Cynder an amused glance.

"I am impressed. This is the first time I've consumed an entire enchantment during a fight. Most dragons don't get this far." He twirled the blade a couple of times, the grin returning. "Of course, it won't save you. It just means I'll have to cut you down the old-fashioned way."

The set of doors behind her swung open, hinges creaking. The light from the torches and lamps outside cut through the room's darkness.

"Cynder?"

Eyes widening, the dragoness glanced behind and toward the figure standing in the doorway.

"Spyro?"

A wave of contradicting emotions smashed into her, and Cynder hesitated. The sound of Ludovicus paws hitting the pavement some distance away brought an unceremonious end to that.

"Well well. It appears the Purple Dragon has finally decided to grace us with his pr-"

"Spyro! Hit him now!" Cynder cried out. And much of his credit, he did not hesitate.

White-hot flames erupted from the Purple Dragon's muzzle before coalescing into a single, incandescent projectile and soaring through the room, slashing through the darkness.

With a yelp, Ludovicus leapt out of the way, his fur singed by the heat as the fireball zoomed past him. It kept on flying all the way to the back of the laboratory, and then exploded against the far wall, opening up and spreading like a blossom of pure heat.

And then the fire touched the stacked-up crates.

In hindsight, Cynder would later blame herself for not having been more specific. On the moment, she barely had the time for a horrified look. Sheer panic surging through her veins, the dragoness unfolded her wings and tapped into whatever elemental reserves she could scrounge up. There wasn't much, but she didn't need much.

She screamed something, though she wasn't sure what. Wind coalesced around her and, with a single beat of her wings, launched her like a dart toward the door.

"What the-" Spyro managed to say before the dragoness collided into him, pushing him clear of the doorway and back outside the laboratory. The two hit the ground and rolled, Cynder still holding onto him.

The shockwave smashed into them half a second later. It lifted them up and then slammed them back down, and Cynder was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

What came next, Cynder couldn't tell. She only knew that the cavern had changed the moment her eyes finally craned open. The penumbra was gone, replaced by bright light and heat. Especially heat. The smell of burning sulphur assaulted her nostrils, and her ears refused to stop ringing.

Eventually, Cynder noticed the purple outline standing over her. His mouth opened and closed frenetically, but no sound came out. Or maybe it did; the ringing was all consuming. Was she laying on the ground right now?

". . . Cynder . . ."

She blinked, the ringing subsiding. She noticed the pair of golden horns and underbelly.

"Cynder, are you alright?"

She groaned.

"Well, I guess that'll work as an answer."

Claws helped her climb up back to a sitting position, and everything shifted back into focus. Spyro sat at her side, a look of worry on his face, as if fearing that she might fall over any moment. The laboratory was gone, replaced by burning ruins, splintered wooden beams and molten metal laying everywhere around amidst blackened bricks. Only the lower half of its façade had survived, thought that seemed to be dangerously close to tilt over at any moment.

"Cynder?" Spyro asked.

"Yeah . . . yeah, I'm fine." She massaged her head with a painful hiss. "I think I'm still alive for now." Before she managed to say anything else though, Cynder found herself pulled into a hug. She blinked several times, her mind having troubles processing what was actually happening. When it did, Cynder wriggled herself free and pushed Spyro away.

"What was that for?!" she demanded. The dragon blinked, the realization of what he had just done dawning on him.

"Oh sorry, it's just . . . well, we were worried about you!"

"Who's we?"

"Actually that's a fair question. Who is this we you are talking about?" Cynder had to suppress a frown as a very annoying dragonfly made his presence known by Spyro's side. The two briefly locked gazes with each other, up until Spyro chuckled.

"Alright fine, I was worried. But I had every reason to be! First, I wake up completely alone, strapped to a table, and surrounded by rats wielding very sharp instruments and ready to do very nasty things to me. Then a Grublin tries to kill me. Then I met Hunter. And then other rats try to kill me." He shrugged. "So, considering that everything in this Warren is after me one way or the other, I . . . well, I was worried about you. I didn't know where you were, or if you were in danger. I couldn't just stand idle."

Cynder arched an eyebrow. She was about to go on an angry tirade on how she was no fairy tale damsel and that she could look after herself just fine. Expect she didn't. She studied Spyro's expression and was astonished to find genuine worry for her.

"I . . . I-I mean, I'm fine."

"You don't really look fine though."

"Yeah, well, you should have seen the other guy," Cynder countered.

Spyro shot a single look past her and towards the burning laboratory. There was the occasional crack of secondary explosions from the gunpowder going off.

"I don't think I really want to. Not after that."

"Fair," Cynder conceded with a smile. She cleared her throat, becoming suddenly very aware of just how close the two of them were standing to each other. "B-By the way, when did you get taller all of a sudden?"

"I did?" Spyro looked around at his own body, shooting a glance over his shoulder at his wings and tail as well. "I'm not sure what you mean. I didn't have the time to look myself in a mirror to be honest." He glanced up, purple eyes resting on her as well, eyebrows knitted in thought.

"Now that you mentioned though, you do look different as well. Like, your entire body is . . . like, it's . . . I mean, y-you are . . . ah . . ." The rest turned into intelligible mumbling.

"I am what?" Her emerald-green eyes bored into him like a pair of hot needles.

"N-nothing, I . . . It was just an impression, that's all."

Somewhere behind him, Sparx seemed to be struggling to contain a growing smirk. Cynder noticed it and moved her gaze back to him. As expected, his amusement evaporated.

"I don't want to interrupt your reunion or whatever you've got going on here, but I'm going to take a guess and say the whole Warren probably heard that one," a voce suddenly spoke up from behind. They glanced over their shoulder just in time to see Remy stepping into view. The otter looked dirtier than before, if that was even possible.

"Wait, what is he doing here?"

"Oh, he led us here actually," Spyro cut in with a smile. "In fact, we probably wouldn't have found you without his lead. Remy, was it? Thank you." The thief shrugged, though he couldn't hide the smirk on his muzzle.

Cynder blinked yet said nothing. She then looked at the otter standing before her, his fur unkept and dirty, just as the tattered clothes on his back.

"You . . . you came back?"

"What's the surprise? You didn't think I was going to leave you behind, right?" He frowned. "Actually, don't answer that. I'm really not the most trustworthy guy around."

He scratched the back of his head, seemingly noticing the burning remains for the first time. A chuckle escaped him.

"I'll be honest, the moment I saw those crates filled with gunpower, I was just certain they were gonna blow up. Maybe not immediately, but that little voice in my head kept telling me they were going to detonate one way or the other. Funny how things turn out, uh?"

"I'm glad to hear our possible demise amused you," Cynder deadpanned. By her side, Spyro chuckled.

"Still, that's a good point. Though we found the whole cavern empty, the rats know we are here by now. Can you walk?"

"That's a good question," Cynder replied. She struggled to get up back to her paws, to push past the burning exhaustion; her muscles stiff with fatigue and threatening to send her sprawling to the ground at any moment. And then Spyro was at her side, helping her stand up. Again, she became very aware of how close they were standing, before banishing those thoughts away.

"W-What are you . . ."

Spyro simply shook his head, grinning. "Can't have you limp all the way to the railway, can't we?"

"I can walk on my own."

It was a lie. Both of them were aware of it, and as the purple dragon helped her stagger out of the deserted cavern, the glow of dancing flames at their backs, Cynder did not complain a single time.

None of them noticed the very irritated dragonfly trailing behind, a realization too appalling to even consider worming its way in his mind for the first time.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me . . ."