It was the chirping of the morning songbirds that roused Elizabeth from her slumber.
Her blue eyes slowly opened to the sound, a soft moan escaping her throat as she was pulled from the realm of dreams into the waking world. She was sad to see said dreams end; they had been of happier times, when Johnathan was around, and her little family was whole once again. Part of her wished to return to them, but she couldn't; there was breakfast to make and chores to begin. The day ahead of them had started. She took a deep breath through her mouth, letting the crisp morning air fill her lungs and send the spark of life through her body. She then pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes and the dirt from her face with her paws.
…dirt?
She was suddenly very awake when she realized that she wasn't in her bed…heck, she wasn't even in her home. What was-?!
But when she opened her eyes again, she found a sight that instantly washed away her worry and filled her with a sense of fondness and wonder at the same time.
Sleeping on the ground next to her was none other than Spyro, his head resting next to her vulnerable form, and his eyes still closed in deep slumber. His long body was curved in a half-circle position, forming a protective barrier around the area where she had been sleeping. Even in slumber, his presence was a powerful one: she could hear the air whooshing down his throat and into his lungs, see his sides rise and fall at a slow, steady pace. His face still sported many tear-streaks from when he had wept the night before, the still-wet scales glistening in the early morning light.
The night before. She remembered it now.
Looking up, she saw the ceiling of the abandoned wolf's den towering high above their heads, old, dried roots hanging down from the dirt like the claws of a hawk. Looking past the dragon's head, she saw the mouth of the cave overlooking the river, the crystal-clear water sparkling in the morning sun; apart from the moisture in the air and the dew across the ground, all traces of the previous night's storm had cleared away, leaving behind the makings of a perfectly sunny day.
She blinked in surprise. She must've fallen asleep while comforting him.
Part of her wanted to chastise herself for yet another act of foolishness she had committed: rodentkin didn't dare sleep in the open, even in long-abandoned caves. She could've been found by one of the numerous nightly predators, such as a weasel or a fox, and she wouldn't have lived to see the morning…and yet, another part of her felt completely and utterly safe. That nothing bad would've happened last night regardless.
And she knew why: with Spyro around, no predator would dare set foot anywhere near the cave, let alone come up to the entrance. This land had been claimed by its new king, and there were none foolish enough to challenge him for his crown, especially over what amounted to a small mouthful of mouse.
That being said, she did feel rather silly having fallen asleep in such a place so easily. The last thing she could recall was singing to Spyro as he wept, and then it just faded into dreams.
Poor thing…he must've cried himself to sleep.
She placed a paw against his face, gently running her palm across the rough, scaly skin, feeling what felt like a layer of smooth river rocks beneath her fingers. Stirred by her touch, Spyro shifted in his sleep before giving a soft groan of disapproval, cracking open an eye to see who had disturbed his slumber. However, when he saw none other than her standing before him, smiling fondly at him, both eyes opening as he shifted his against the ground, turning it partially towards her.
"You stayed." His magical voice rumbled through the air, sounding more like a child in awe than a legendary beast of power.
Mrs. Brisby nodded. "It wasn't intended, but I'm glad I did." She told him honestly; it was true. She was happy to see him now, no longer suffering from the darkness of the night before.
"I thought it had been a dream." He admitted softly, not taking his eyes off her. "That you came to me in the night."
She could almost understand why he thought that; the memories felt more like a dream than anything real, even if they both knew it wasn't the case. Heck, this whole scenario felt more like a dream than reality: talking to a living, breathing dragon as if he was nothing more than a lost furling. It was something she never imagined herself doing, yet here they were. She took a step back as the dragon lifted his head off the ground, turning it to look at her directly.
"How are you feeling?" she eventually asked, still a little concerned about his current well-being.
The dragon didn't answer at first; he looked away, staring at the ground in thought, truly thinking over the question.
"Better." He ultimately decided. "More than I have felt in a long time."
And he truly meant it; the Tight Emptiness, the sensation that had plagued him for years, was finally gone, filled with…something. It wasn't exactly the Warmth that he had been searching for, but it was certainly a lot better than the Emptiness. There was also still a lingering touch of pain, one that he would most likely carry for many more years to come…but despite it, he felt much, much better than he had in the days before.
And he had her to thank for it.
Mrs. Brisby smiled warmly at his answer, turning her own gaze to look out over the early-morning light sparkling across the waters of the river. It was then she noticed that the cave was missing someone.
"Where's Zoe?"
Spyro paused at the question before staring up at the ceiling; the mouse watched in surprise as his eyes glowed with a brilliant purple light, his pupils temporarily disappearing into the light. He held them like that for a moment before eventually closing them, his eyes returning to normal as he seemed to blink the light away. He then turned to her with an answer:
"She is in your home, tending to your children."
Mrs. Brisby's ears perked up at that, eyes widening with realization.
"Oh goodness! Timothy!" She exclaimed, scrambling to her feet in a worried tizzy. She had ended up falling asleep in the cave, with no one to watch over the kids back at the house; Timmy in particular was in no condition to be left without supervision, regardless of how close the cave was.
Spyro looked confused at her worry, but said nothing as he got up himself, stretching his body out like a dog does when they get up from a nap, complete with a wide-mouth yawn.
It was a testament to Brisby's newfound courage for the dragon (or to her commitment to the well-being of her children) that she didn't so much as flinch at the sight of all those teeth. Instead, she simply scurried up to the mouth of the cave and stepped out into the sunlight. The land was covered with dew brought on by the rain, the air moist against her fur and the ground muddy beneath her paws, but the sky was beautiful and clear, Frith's light shining down upon all of his creation.
"The young one is fine." Spyro told her surely as he stepped up to the cave entrance himself. "The medicine worked, and he has recovered enough to stay awake."
She still looked concerned. "How do you know that?"
"Zoe told me." He stated simply.
It was outright humorous, the face of confusion she made at those words. Like a puzzled child confronted with something they couldn't figure out.
"It is morning." Spyro growled as he took his first step out of the cave. "I must feed. So, I shall hunt." Mrs. Brisby scampered out of the way as his large feet thrummed against the ground, his long body slithering through the air with that imposing mixture of serpentine and cat-like grace. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he made his way down the hill, turning to head into the forest. "Tend to your family in the meantime. I will be back when I have eaten my fill." He told her, eyes glinting in the morning sun.
Mrs. Brisby nodded wordlessly, her confusion being quickly replaced with unspoken gratitude; gratitude that he was choosing to go eat elsewhere rather than bringing it back to eat here. The River of Bones had been a nightmare in itself, and she had no desire for her furlings to experience the same kind of horror.
And with that, the dragon turned away and bounded off into the forest, disappearing into the underbrush.
When Mrs. Brisby entered her home, the last thing she expected to be greeted by was the pleasant, welcoming smell of a warm breakfast; the aroma of eggs and cheese made her empty stomach growl in anticipation, much to her embarrassment.
She headed inside to find that Spyro had been truthful in his words: there, in the kitchen area of the main room, Zoe was busy preparing a meal for her and her kids: scrambled eggs with cheese, judging from the smell (something she herself hadn't had since her days in Rosebush City). She was holding the metal pan and spatula with several layers of cloth wrapped around her hands; a bit overdoing it for heat protection, the mouse thought. Both Teresa and Cynthia were in the kitchen with her; Teresa was in the dining area, setting the table with plates and cups for everyone, while Cynthia sat in the corner, playing with her doll.
"What's all this then?" she asked, more amused at the sight than anything else.
"Mommy's back!" Cynthia exclaimed happily.
Zoe glanced up from her preparation of the eggs. "Ah, there you are." She stated simply. "Decided to help get breakfast ready, seeing that you were busy with Spyro." That was one way to put it. "Sleep well?"
"As well as one can in a dragon's cave, I suppose." She stated as she came down the stairs, scooping Cynthia up in her arms when the child scampered over to greet her. "When did I fall asleep?"
"About the same time Spyro did." Zoe told her. "You didn't look to be in discomfort, so I came back to the house while you were with him." She scooped up a stray clump of egg from the pan and ate it. "Figured someone should be watching the kids, especially Timmy, while you were busy." She swallowed her mouthful. "By the way, I borrowed your bed last night, so you might want shake the Pixie Dust out of the sheets before using it again."
"That's alright." Mrs. Brisby assured her as she stepped in to help, setting Cynthia in her chair; the young mother was relieved to know that the children hadn't gone the whole night without supervision. "How's Timmy doing?"
"Much better than he was last night." The fairy stated simply as she poured the last of the scrambled eggs into a large bowl, afterwards she set the metal utensils to the side and began unwrapping her hands from the cloth coverings. "Say what you will about Mr. Age's attitude, but his medicine is the real deal."
Elizabeth nodded in agreement, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Thank Frith…" She muttered to herself, hugging Cynthia.
"Is it true, mother?" Teresa asked as she finished setting the last plate.
Mrs. Brisby looked confused. "Is what true?"
"That Spyro and Zoe are going to be staying with us!" Her daughter exclaimed excitedly as she took her seat at the table. "Zoe told us they were last night!"
The mother mouse nodded as she placed Cynthia in her seat next to her own. "Yes. They're going to be helping us with the Harvest."
"Dragons are strong, and we fairies have a knack for growing plants and stuff, so it's only logical to ask us for help." Zoe quipped playfully as she brought the bowl of scrambled eggs to the table, setting it in the middle before taking her seat at the opposite end of the table from Mrs. Brisby. Only one member of the family (minus the bedridden Timothy) was missing.
"Is Martin up yet?" Mrs. Brisby asked as she took a smaller bowl, using a wooden spoon to fill it with a small helping of eggs and cheese.
"We sent him to check on Timmy, but he probably went back to sleep again." Teresa stated flatly. "He's going to have another tantrum when he misses out of breakfast, the nitwit."
"Teresa! There's no reason to talk about your brother like that!" Mrs. Brisby scolded her eldest child as she finished preparing a breakfast tray for her youngest son. Timmy who was still too ill to join them at the table, regardless of the medicine. Zoe, however, gave Teresa a playful wink behind her mother's back as the mouse made her way into the children's bedroom, tray in hand.
Timmy looked much better than he did the night before; while still noticeably frail and weak from the disease, his fever and the delirium that came with it were gone and he had gathered the strength to sit up in bed, his back propped against his pillow. His brother sat beside his bed, the two of them curiously going through a small pile of Zoe's trinkets and other items, which the fairy had let them play with. Timmy in particular was focused on Zoe's wand, which he was trying to cast a spell with; he waved it around like he imagined Fairies would, but not so much as a single spark of magic came out of it.
Mrs. Brisby scowled a little. "I do hope you two asked Ms. Zoe if you could play with her things before you took them." She said sternly, alerting the boys to her presence.
"They did!" Zoe called from the other room. "And don't worry. Nothing there will harm them; I made sure of that." And it was true; ever since that close call with Cynthia the first time they met, Zoe had gone to great lengths to ensure all of her more fragile (and dangerous) items were hidden away from curious eyes, tucked safely away in her magical void with her other things. The mental image of Cynthia playing with the Speaking Crystal still sent shivers down the fairy's spine every time she thought of it.
"I think your wand is broken." Timothy said with a hint of disappointment in his voice, but sounding much better than he did the night before. "It's not casting magic."
"That's because wands themselves aren't magical." Zoe stated as she got up and came into the room behind Mrs. Brisby, smirking at the pouting furling. "They merely help magic users focus their magic into the world. You have to have your own magic to make it work. Observe." Gently taking the wand back, she demonstrated her own ability by channeling a touch of her magical power into the wand, making the rim around it glow with a soft magenta light.
"Oh…" Timothy said sadly.
"Let's worry about it some other time. It's time for breakfast." Mrs. Brisby told him as she gestured Martin to move away from the bed. She gently gathered up Zoe's things and placed them on top of the bedside drawer, safely out of the way, before taking her seat next to her ill son's bedside, readying to spoon-feed him a bit of eggs, much to the boy's embarrassment.
"Mama, really, I don't need help!" Timothy tried to object. "I feel fine!"
"That's because Mr. Ages medicine is making you feel fine." His mother told him, successfully slipping the spoonful in. "That doesn't mean the sickness is gone, though."
He swallowed the eggs with a bit of effort, for his throat was still sore. "But when, mama? When will I be better?"
"In three weeks. That's what Mr. Ages said. You'll have to stay warm in bed until then."
Timmy looked distraught, but otherwise didn't object, quietly accepting another spoonful of eggs from his mother. The others finished their breakfast pretty quickly (Martin ate his so fast he almost choked), as they were eager to begin the day with their new friends. They were already chattering a tizzy, like baby birds in a nest, each eager to show Spyro and Zoe around the farm. Mrs. Brisby, while charmed by the sight of her children being so happy, nonetheless calmed them down and reminded them there were chores to be done for the day ahead.
They would begin once Spyro returned, she decided. Wherever he had gone.
Blood splattered across the ground with each step as the wounded boar raced through the forest undergrowth, squealing at the top of its lungs as it did so. The large three-claw slash marks across its sides bled, spreading the life fluid across any surface the wild pig brushed up against, leaving a trail of red behind it as it fled.
There was no sign of whatever caused the wound, but it didn't dare stop running. It knew that…thing was close behind, even if hidden from view. And to stop now would be a death sentence.
Little did it know that it was already a dead animal. It just had yet to be put down.
A large form of purple and gold shot down from the branches above with a mighty, terrifying roar that shook the forest, sending the nearby birds scattering to the air. Before the boar could even respond, it felt the monster's massive form slam into it with enough force to knock it off its hooves, the mighty jaws clamping down on the back of its neck; the sheer strength of those jaws crumbled the pig's spinal column, the bones cracking like twigs, and the animal was dead before its body and its attacker even slid to a stop.
Good. Spyro was not the one to make his prey suffer if he could help it.
The dragon held on for a few more seconds, just to be safe. When it was clear his victim was dead, he released his death grip on it and stepped back, letting the body fall to the ground; he gave a guttural croon of approval before leaning in for the first bite, taking a large chunk out of the pig's well-fattened hide. The blood of his prey bloomed in his mouth with an explosion of taste, driving him to dig in with even more gusto, his bloodlust finally being sated…for the time being, that is.
And for once, he didn't feel the need to feed to try and fill the Tight Emptiness for once.
For it was gone, and he had the mother mouse to thank for it.
He continued to eat away at his latest kill as he stood amongst the trees, his tail swishing back and forth behind him as he continued to tear into the carcass. All the while he kept an ear out for anything that could demand his attention. Other predators, thieving scavengers, travelling Rodentkin, just to think of a few; he was a good distance away from the stone, closer to the border. The chances of actually running into travelling merchants or the like was higher than one would think, and he would rather avoid that kind of encounter if he could help it.
Travelling…now that was a thought that tickled his mind with interest. Not the type like sailing across the ocean again; he had enough of that kind of travel to last him several lifetimes (and for a dragon, that was saying something). No, what he thought of was travelling outside the border. He had never been beyond the borders of Feywild before, and now that he had returned to Nimh (and found much needed peace of mind and heart) he wanted to see more of it.
To see the world beyond the control of the Fairies. To see the mice and rats that walked and talked like humans…and if they would be as nice to him as the stone's small family had.
…he never did ask her name.
But he also understood the dangers of such ideas. Namely how his presence would be taken by said mice and rats; when the mother mouse first met him, she was as terrified of him as one could possibly be, unaware that he was more than just a monster with very sharp teeth; he had to show her that he meant no harm, and only afterwards did she not fear him. His gut instinct told him that doing the same with other Rodentkin wouldn't be nearly as simple, especially the rats with their sharp weapons and suspicious natures.
And he knew the futility of trying to win over those of suspicious natures.
He bit down into the hind-leg of the hog, sinking his teeth into the tough yet juicy flesh, before ripping the chunk he had bitten into off. He swallowed the mouthful and was about to take another bite of it when something on the wind pricked in his ears, causing them to perk up in attention.
Voices. Several of them.
And it sounded like they were in conflict.
Now on full alert, Spyro lowered himself down to the ground, crouching deeply to hide himself as best as his size would allow. He then began to silently slink forward, much like a snake slithering through the grass, his footsteps making no noise whatsoever as he headed in the direction of the voices: the opposite one to the Lee of the Stone.
And soon enough, he came across the source: another pair of weasels, he noted with heavy displeasure. The two predators had cornered someone in an old rodent burrow, one that was too small for even them to fit through, chuckling wickedly and taunting it with cruel words as they dug at the earth in an almost leisurely manner; they knew they had their prey cornered, and were in no rush to force them out.
"Why bother hiding, shriveled shrew?" The one in front of the hole taunted, fangs gleaming in the light as she grinned. "We're oh so very hungry. It's rude to make us wait."
"Not on your lives!" A familiar voice shouted from inside. "I haven't lived this long just to end up weasel food now!"
Spyro knew that voice: it was the old shrew that had captured his fairy the fateful day they first returned to the stone. 'Auntie' Shrew, it he recalled correctly.
The second weasel laughed, lounging on the hill just above the den, patiently waiting for time and the elements to force the old Rodentkin out of hiding for him, while his partner continued to playfully paw at the ground around the hole. "Waste of good meat, to let it age for so long." He said with cruel malice in his voice. "Best eaten when young. When flesh is still tender."
Spyro's eyes narrowed dangerously at that comment. Way too familiar to the words he had heard the other one say when it was going to eat her.
"As if I would give you the satisfaction of eating my flesh, you snake-faced savages!" Auntie Shrew snapped as she swung her walking stick at the paw reaching into the barrow, barely missing it, and sending the two predators into a fit of uproarious laughter. "We can play this game all day! I'm not going anywhere anytime soon!"
"And neither are we." The first weasel laughed, laying down comfortably on the ground in front of the hole. "What will drive shriveled shrew out first? Cold, hunger, of both? We shall see."
"Don't count on it."
Spyro's voice thundered with primordial anger as he forsook the stealth approach and stepped into his clearing, his footfalls once again shaking the earth as he outright stomped out of his hiding place for all to see. All traces of the smug confidence and cruel amusement the weasels had was instantly erased and replaced with shock and fear; fear of the likes one could only feel when confronted by death itself.
He didn't even have to roar to get them to leave: all it took was one thunderous growl, showing off his much larger and sharper teeth, to send them running for their lives, kicking up dirt as they tore from the clearing.
The dragon glared after them, but otherwise didn't make any move to chase after them. They got the message clearly enough. They would not return.
He then turned to the hole. "The weasels are gone. You can come out now."
"Do you take me for a fool?! That I don't know the monster that voice belongs to?!" The shrew's voice was notably several octaves higher; perhaps his growl had been too effective. "Frith have mercy on this soul, for one of the great serpents of the north to roam Nimh is truly a sign of the end times!"
Spyro fought the urge to roll his eyes, giving a grunt of exasperation instead. Not the first time he had heard something like that.
"Elizabeth Johnathan Brisby. Ever since the day Johnathan first brought you back to Dapplewood, I made it my personal mission to see that you would have as safe and loving a life as possible, despite your heritage. Not many others would accept a Feral-Born into their lives, yet I took that chance with you without a moment's hesitation. And it's a decision I have never regretted, not even on the worst of days. You have been the closest thing to a daughter I've ever had, and it has been an honor and a privilege to have known you all these years. I would not trade any of it for the world, and thus you will understand that I say this with the kindest and most loving of intentions: you are out of your bloody mind."
Elizabeth sighed. That had been the reaction she was expecting.
"I've told myself that many times since I made my decision." She admitted as she tucked Timmy into bed, helping her sick son settle in for a nap. The boy barely had time to get his objections to a nap out before he gave a heavy yawn, his eyelids slowly closing as the second helping of Mr. Age's medicine started to take effect.
"A Dragon. An Honest-to-Frith Dragon. Here, on Nimh!" Auntie Shrew's hands shook slightly as she took a sip of water from the cup she held in her shaking paws, her nerves quite shot. "Not even your husband dealt with one of them in his lifetime, and you intend to take it into your nest as if it were a lost furling!"
"He is a lost furling." Mr. Brisby stated calmly as she led her Aunt out of the children's bedroom, the two heading up the stairs that led outside. "One that's been abandoned by his own kind. I can't just sit back and do nothing."
"But certainly, you see the dangers this holds for you and your family!" The shrew objected as they exited the house. "I mean, even if he means no harm, look at him!"
The two looked up to see the rest of her children currently at play…and today's play was something else to behold: Spyro laid across the ground and watched quietly as the three played around his paws, telling him stories and showing him their toys. It had been a little worrying at first, to see them interact with something so large and dangerous, but it spoke to the dragon's gentleness that he was able to play with them this way without harming them. All the while Zoe stood off to the side, keeping her watchful eyes on the whole thing.
"I am." The mouse said without missing a beat, watching with a warm fondness as Cynthia showed Spyro her doll, which had been repaired since the day he brought it back to her, which Spyro gently poked at with the tip of his large claw. "And do you know what I see? I see a kind and gentle soul, forced into a life he never asked for, desperate for a place to call home. A soul that went out of his way to save the life of an intruder to his home. Twice. I owe him that, at least."
Auntie Shrew paused at that, that particular fact tugging at what remained of her haggard old heartstrings. "I…" She began, her confidence in the matter wavering. She sighed. "…I suppose that merits some benefit of the doubt…" She surrendered. "…but I know for a fact that this will spell trouble for the rest of Nimh, once word of his existence starts to spread."
Mrs. Brisby paused at those words but shook her head with resolve. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." She told her. "I trust Justin and King Nicodemus. They will see reason."
"But what of Nicodemus' nephew? That 'Jenner' fellow?" The shrew asked, her eyes darkening at the thought of that particular rat. "Trust me, child. That scoundrel will bring nothing but trouble when he learns of 'Spyro' here."
Now that was something that brought concern to the young mouse's heart. Jenner, the nephew of King Nicodemus…and one of the cruelest rats she had ever met. Even from the first moment she met him all those years ago, when Johnathan brought her back to Rosebush City for the first time, she could tell he was a dangerous person. Cruel, twisted, and cunning, he had been the most vocal in his opinions about Johnathan's decision to take an 'animal wife'. Part of her believed he was one of the main reasons her late husband had moved them out to the Fae lands to begin with. If he were to find out about Spyro's existence, then all the grief she had received from him beforehand would appear to be pathetic school-yard bullying by comparison.
"I…I know…" She admitted weakly. "…but I'm not changing my mind. Spyro saved my life…not just my life, but Timmy's as well. And I intend to repay his kindness to me, no matter what anyone says."
Auntie Shrew looked like she wanted to argue more, but ultimately surrendered to her 'niece's' resolve. "Very well. If this is what you're absolutely sure of, then so be it." She sighed as she followed her to where the kids were playing. She then allowed a small smirk to cross her lips. "Perhaps if we're lucky, your dragon will eat Jenner when he meets the ruffian."
"Auntie!" Mrs. Brisby scolded, though that didn't stop the smile from tugging at her own lips.
"Now then, that's enough playing around!" The shrew exclaimed, stepping forward with her arms full of gardening tools and supplies. "We have a Harvest to prepare for, and not a moment to waste!"
The Brisby children all gave collective groans of protest at her words, but Spyro merely grunted in acceptance as he got up from the ground and stood on all fours. The shrew's words made sense to the dragon; the priority of food always came first before anything else. He knew this even when living in the Palace of Avalon, as the fairies had taught him the importance of nature's needs well.
"So, what's the plan today?" Zoe asked, stretching her arms above her head to pop the kinks out of her spine and limbs, limbering herself up for the day's work ahead.
"Today we will start clearing out the old corn in preparation for the new ones." Auntie Shrew explained as he stepped forward, giving each of them a long piece of coiled string. Zoe took hers with a touch of hesitation, knowing full well what kind of strings the old rodentkin could make. "The winters of Nimh kill off the old plants, so we must clear them out to make way for a new batch." She then picked up two wood-chopping axes, taking one for herself and handing the other to Mrs. Brisby. "Elizabeth and I shall take care of chopping down the plants, while the children handle the rope-work."
"Rope work again?" Martin groaned aloud. "When will I get to chop down corn?"
"When I'm dead. Plus a few years, just to make sure I'm dead." The shrew snipped right back, not missing a beat, to which the furling boy pulled a face at her.
Spyro couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping at that exchange.
However, his amusement turned into concern when his gaze turned to Mrs. Brisby. The doe was clearly struggling to hold the axe properly, the tool heavy and unbalanced in her grip; her gentle, uncalloused hands were straining against the weight, her knuckles almost white. Clearly, she had never handled one before.
Never had to until now.
"Right then!" Auntie Shrew exclaimed once more. "Let's get started!"
With a mumbling grumble under his breath, Martin looped the end of the string around his round waist and tied it off. Then the boy furling shimmied up the nearest stalk of corn with the same agility and climbing ability of his animal counterpart; when he reached about two-thirds of the way up, he untied the rope from his person and tied it around the stalk, giving the rope an extra tug to make sure it was in place. After he climbed back down, he and his siblings all took hold of the string from the ground, ready to pull. Auntie Shrew then took the axe to the stump of the plant, chopping away at the root for several minutes, broken up due to the elderly woman stopping to catch her breath every now and then.
When the tell-tale signs came, namely the cracking of plant fiber and the stalk beginning to lean, the children all pulled the string together. Despite being well over forty feet high, the light-weight cornstalk easily fell in their direction, away from the field, giving the mice enough time to scamper out of the way before it landed on the ground with a light crash. Once the dust had settled, it was simply a manner of using the same strings to pull it out of the field and drag it to a secluded area at the bank of the river, where they would be stacked like logs at a lumbermill.
Spyro's frowned in thought: it was a straight-forward method, to be sure…but it was also incredibly time-consuming: all in all, it took the small rodentkin almost an hour to chop down a single stalk.
It would take them weeks to do the entire field like this.
Then another factor came into play that would only slow them down even further: Mrs. Brisby herself.
With the shrew having chopped down the first stalk, it was her turn to cut the next one down…and it was clear from the start that entrusting such a task to her may not be the best idea: compared to her aunt's swift and direct swings of the axe, her own swings were sloppy; wobbly and clumsy, rarely hitting the same place on the stalk twice. And it only took a few of them to drain her of her stamina, her breath becoming labored from the exertion.
One final attempt at a swing saw the axe slip from her grip and fly through the air; Zoe quickly hopped back a step as the blade buried itself in the ground in front of her, just missing her toes.
Mrs. Brisby, on the other hand, cried out in pain as the rough wood of the handle scraped up her delicate, uncalloused paws badly enough to draw blood.
"Brisby!" Auntie Shrew exclaimed in surprise as the mouse collapsed to her knees.
"Mom/Mother/Mommy!" The three furlings cried as they saw their mother give out a quiet gasp of a sob, clutching her hands tightly to her chest. They all ran to her side, giving comfort to the best of their ability.
Spyro, on the other hand, said nothing as his frown turned into a glare, his gaze glancing between the fallen axe and the field of corn with a stare that could set either on fire.
"Zoe." He suddenly spoke with his usual draconian intensity, catching everyone's attention. "Take them all aside and tend to her hands." He got up from where he had been resting, his tail swishing dangerously behind him. "I will take care of this myself."
Zoe nodded without hesitation, putting a comforting hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Come on. We need to get out of the way."
Mrs. Brisby hesitated the fairy's pull. "B-But the crops-"
"Will be taken care of." Zoe interrupted her. "Right now, we need to take care of you instead."
Elizabeth looked confused (and a little ashamed) but nodded silently as the fairy and shrew helped her to her feet; she continued to hold her bleeding hands together, trying to use pressure to soothe the pain, as they all quickly made their way back towards the farmhouse while the dragon made his way to the nearest corner of the field on the opposite side of the glade.
"Are you okay, mom?" Martin asked.
Mrs. Brisby nodded, trying to keep a brave face despite the pain. "I-I'm alright." She assured her worried children. "Just a little scrape."
"Little scrape, my thorax." Zoe admonished, folding her arms. "You can't partake in the harvest like this; your hands are soft and unfit for harder labor, as is the rest of you."
"I had a feeling this would happen." Auntie Shrew told Zoe as she guided her niece to sit down on a nearby rock. "Johnathan was a truly exceptional mouse, able to do the work of five bucks by himself. He always carried the yolk of the farmwork when he was still alive."
"Big shoes to fill." Zoe commented simply. "Especially for an inexperienced doe."
"But I have to fill them!" Mrs. Brisby objected, even as Teresa brought out a bowl of suave and a roll of gauze from the house (the same she had used to tend to Cynthia a little while back). "We need the corn the harvest produces to eat and barter for other goods! If I can't even chop down a single stalk, how can I possibly take care of my own family?" It was all she could do to keep from openly crying, tears starting to form in her eyes.
"But you do take care of your family." The fairy told her as she took the suave bowl, motioning for Brisby to show her palms, which she began to gently dab the suave over the scrapes. "Johnathan may have been the one to do all the farmwork, but you've been taking care of him and your kids ever since you first married. You feed your children. You teach them. You love them. You'd be surprised just how much a housewife can contribute to the wellbeing of her family even from home."
"But the corn…"
"Is already in the hands of a good successor. Him." She motioned her head in Spyro's direction; the dragon was standing at the far edge of the field, the end of his tail swishing back and forth as he stared up at the stalks. "You don't need to worry yourself over it now."
"Might I ask what he intends to do?" Auntie Shrew asked incredulously. "What could a dragon possibly know about farming?"
"About farming seeds and growing crops? Not much, honestly." Zoe admitted as she finished wrapping Brisby's hands, turning to watch as Spyro lifted himself back up on his hind legs, standing on two legs in the same manner a bear would. "But if there's one thing dragons do well, it's destroying anything in their path."
*CRASH!*
None of them had the time to prepare themselves for the shock that was to happen next, be it physically or mentally, as the very earth shook. Spyro landed back down on all fours and, with a serpentine flick of his lower body, swung his long mighty tail through the corn in a sweeping arc, cracking it with the explosive sound of a whip. The blow from the spine-covered appendage was enough to completely shatter through several rows of the dried plants, obliterating their bases and tearing their very roots from the ground. More than twenty stalks fell to the single blow, each of them crashing to the ground with light thuds or into the other plants behind them.
Mrs. Brisby's eyes widened in shock, and found all her worries for her family quickly disappearing as a stunned realization sat in. An entire day's worth of work, if not more, done in a single instant.
Her family's reaction was just as elated; after a moment of stunned silence, all three of her children began to cheer with joy, Martin and Cynthia bouncing with it; no doubt they were thrilled to see all that work that they would've otherwise had to do gone. Auntie Shrew was just as stunned as she was, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide to a comical degree. Zoe, meanwhile, simply beheld her dragon with pride, a smug look of 'I told you so' adorning her face.
Spyro meanwhile, turned his gaze to meet hers. And that's when she saw it: in his eyes rather than his face. A look of hopefulness…hope that she would approve of his work.
She couldn't have stopped the warm smile from spreading across her face even if she wanted to, and she simply nodded to him, to which he audibly purred with delight.
The rest of the fieldwork was short-lived after that; with little effort and full of encouraged drive, Spyro tore through the rest of the field with the ferocity of a tornado, leveling every cornstalk in his path. He used his claws, wings, and tail to slice or smash his way through the dead plants with little resistance, tearing out their very roots from the sheer force of his blows. The cheers from the children only fueled his own excitement, prompting him to go even faster.
And in just a couple short hours, what would've taken the little mouse family well into the spring to complete was done before the sun had begun to rise into the sky. With one last swing, the last stalk of corn fell to the ground, laid to rest by the dragon's razor-sharp claws.
"That. Was. Awesome!" Martin exclaimed with a hop of excitement.
"The entire field done! In less than a day!" Teresa cheered. "Spyro's amazing!"
Elizabeth nodded in agreement, too stunned to say or do much else, still trying to wrap her head around the events that had just happened before her. Though the shock was nothing compared to the relief she was feeling, knowing that the farm was now in truly good hands, and her own weakness wouldn't stop her family from getting fed.
"Yes…yes, he is." She finally managed to say, smiling warmly as she watched the dragon grab a bunch of the stalks with his jaws, dragging them away to the riverbank.
Unfortunately for the children, their joy wasn't to last: while Auntie Shrew was impressed by the dragon's feats in her own right, she was no less adamant about continuing the work; the field being cleared in a day only meant that it was time to move into the next part of tilling the freshly-uprooted soil; a task simple enough for even Elizabeth to do. And this time, Spyro wouldn't be able to do it for them. So, despite the complaints from the children, the family all gathered their farming tools and got to work once the dragon had cleared out enough of the field for them to start with.
Meanwhile, Spyro helped himself to a well-earned break: he laid himself down on the edge of the field, lounging spread out on his side like a large cat, and simply observed the tiny mice as they worked, using both their paws and their tools to dig at the soil, removing all the pebbles and other pieces of debris from the earth to make way for the next batch of seeds. Zoe, meanwhile, aided in her own ways: since she was unable to touch the iron tools without burning herself, thanks to her fairy heritage, she assisted by using her magic to lift the dug-up stones off the ground and toss them out of the field.
It was impressive and admirable.
The way that common mortals worked hard to grow their food and profit. Such a concept was alien to a member of the Elder Dragon species, such as himself, who were primarily wild hunters who preyed on other animals for food. To actually shape the land and grow their crops was nothing short of magic to his kind, and to think that such little creatures were capable of such things was the impressive part.
But he also knew that some mortals, those of more advanced tools and machines, often took more than they needed, destroying the land as they did so. The Gnorcs were a prime example, having ridden their own homelands into a toxic wasteland for their own greed…so for any mortal, such as this little family, to respect of the world as they grew their food, working with the land instead of permanently changing it, was the admirable part.
And he found himself taking just a small amount of pride that he was able to aid them in their tasks.
Pride in something so simple and ordinary compared to what he was capable of…yet no less fulfilling. Far more fulfilling than fighting in pointless war…
The tilling continued for a few short hours until midday, when the sun was just reaching its peak; they were all very tired from the hard work, paws dirty and fur damp with sweat, but they had made a fair amount of progress. Not nearly as much as Spyro had done, but certainly enough for the small group of have done on their own.
"Alright, I think that's enough for one day." Mrs. Brisby announced, dusting her wrapped paws off against her dress. She had become aware of how tired everyone was looking, and thus decided now was a good time for a break.
"Guh!" Martin exclaimed as he promptly dropped his trowel and all but face-planted into the ground with a light thud, kicking up a small cloud of dust as he did so.
Teresa rolled her eyes at her brother's exaggerated response. "Oh, grow up, you big baby. We didn't work that hard."
"Tell that to my everything…" The boy furling groaned, lifting his head just enough to give his sister a stink-eye.
"Now, now, that's enough to that." Mrs. Brisby told them, prompting Martin back to his feet as the others all gathered around. "You all did wonderfully today, and I think we can take the rest of the day off."
The old shrew gave a huff, but otherwise didn't object. "Very well. But let's not forgo work too often just because we've done so much early." She warned (much to the children's objections that it was Spyro who did most of the work). "To become lazy in the face of good fortune is to invite starvation in the long run."
Mrs. Brisby nodded. "A little bit each day should be enough." She agreed, turning to her children. "Help me return the tools back to the shed and then we can have some lunch."
"Yes, mother." Teresa said, gathering up her own tools while nudging her brother with her foot; Martin groaned in protest, but the promise of food was enough to motivate him to get off the ground and start cleaning up after himself. Cynthia, meanwhile, gave a childishly-big yawn as she followed her siblings, dragging her little trowel behind her; being little more than a toddler, her work wasn't as much as the others, but it was tiring for her small body none the less. She rubbed an eye with her paw as she shambled along, until Zoe came up from behind and scooped her up into her arms.
"Someone needs a nap." she said teasingly.
Cynthia didn't object to the free ride or the comment, slumping tiredly against the fairy and closing her eyes. Zoe merely carried her in a shoulder hold as she followed Teresa and Martin, letting the blond mouse pup rest her head on her shoulder, as the other two furlings gathered around the fairy and began whispering things amongst themselves.
Mrs. Brisby smiled warmly at the sight; for a brief moment, she saw Johnathan in Zoe's place, being the loving father to his children, even after a hard day's work. It brought a smile to her face, but also a small ache to her heart.
A heart that hadn't had enough time to heal from the hole in it.
"You're sad."
She jumped a little at the sudden voice that thundered behind her, nearly dropping her armful of tools in the process. She looked up to see Spyro looking at her from where he was laying, his face as stoic as ever but his eyes warm and full of what could be described as a 'concern curiosity'.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Brisby asked, a little confused herself.
"You're sad, but it's a sadness you cannot ease." He told her, his telepathic voice carrying on the wind. "Your heart aches for something that is no longer there. What is this that you long for? If it is near, I can find it for you."
The mouse didn't say anything at first, not sure of what to say.
"I…I'm afraid it's not something you can just find." She ultimately told him, lowering her gaze. In response, he cocked his head to the side, giving a confused warble of a groan as he did so. "My husband, their father, passed away just last winter, and we're still coming to terms with it."
Spyro blinked; a moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "He was a kind person?"
Mrs. Brisby smiled, though it was filled with as much sorrow as it was happiness. She looked to where the children were playing with Zoe, the fairy doing her best to tread carefully and not step on any tails, all the while carrying the now-sleeping Cynthia like an infant. It was a silly and endearing sight, seeing the children happy despite the pain that was no doubt in their hearts.
"He was. We loved him very much."
Another moment of silence.
"…What is that like?"
Elizabeth blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes, looking up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"To love something that much." He elaborated, his eyes flickering with a strange internal fire. "You were willing to risk returning to my river, knowing I could still be there, to find the medicine for your son. After everything you went through, after facing death itself in my form, you still came…what's it like? To care about someone that much…and to be cared in return?"
Those words only made her heart clench even harder.
"You don't know?" She asked, her voice quivering from emotion. When all he did in response was tilt his head in confusion, she realized just how deep this rabbit-hole went. She frowned a little, both at the dragon's predicament and with confusion on how to explain it.
"Well…it a good feeling to have inside you." She explained to the best of her ability. "It can be hard, and scary, and sometimes even painful at times…but it's worth it to have someone to love. To have that feeling of warmth inside your heart."
Spyro perked up at that. "Warmth?" He asked.
"Yes." She answered. "It's…hard to explain, but Love is a warm feeling inside you that you have for someone else. It means you care about them, and want to see them happy and safe." She smiled to herself, remembering the warmth she had felt with her family. "To know that you're not alone in the world."
Spyro lowered his gaze at the thought, giving off a reptilian gurgle.
But before either of them could say anything more, a terrified scream tore through the air; Spyro immediately went on the alert and stood up, growling murderously. Alarmed and fearing for her children's safety, Mrs. Brisby took off in the direction of the scream and rounded the house to a grisly sight: from the shed a terrified Teresa emerged, helping Zoe out at a quick pace; the fairy was holding a now very-awake Cynthia with her left arm, while gripping her thigh with her right hand, pink blood spilling down her ankle. Cynthia was clinging to Zoe's dress as if her life depended on it, her eyes wide and tearful with shock. And following them was Martin, brandishing a hoe that was stained and dripping with putrid green-yellow blood.
Auntie Shrew was quick to join them as well, following just after Brisby. "What in heaven's name-?!"
"Spider! In the shed!" Zoe growled through gritted teeth before collapsing to her knees, catching herself just long enough to let Cynthia down without hurting her. The blonde furling wasted no time running to her mother, crying with terror, while Zoe landed on her side with a heavy thud, clutching at her bleeding leg with both hands.
"I-It was hiding in the baskets!" Teresa cried, looking scared half to death. "I-It tried to attack us! Ms. Zoe kicked it away, but it bit her!"
As Teresa was talking, Zoe sat up and pulled her leg close. Mrs. Brisby gasped at the sight of the ugly red spider bite that was swelling on her shin just above her ankle, the skin around it starting to turn pale as the venom began to do its job. The mouse instinctively shielded Cynthia's eyes from the sight of it, though the damage was already done, and the youngest furling began to bawl. Teresa was already crying by the time she saw it, and Martin was doing everything he could not to (and failing as tears filled his eyes). This wasn't good.
"Spyro!" Zoe called through gritted teeth. "Gonna need your help here!" The young Safi'jiiva was already approaching her, purple eyes steeled with rock-solid determination.
"W-What are you going to do?" Mrs. Brisby asked, wary of the look the dragon was giving his fairy.
"Take the kids back around the house…so they don't have to see this!" Zoe ordered the two adults. "It's…" She hissed in pain. "…It's not gonna be pretty!"
"Absolutely." Auntie Shrew said as she stepped forward, shooing Teresa and Martin along. "Come now, children. We must go, now."
"But Ms. Zoe's in trouble!" Martin said defiantly.
"They will take care of it!" The shrew insisted, even as Zoe laid her bitten leg out straight as she could, lying on her back in the process.
"Auntie, here! Take Cynthia." Mrs. Brisby handed her inconsolable child to the shrew. "I'm going to help!"
"Are you sure, Elizabeth?" Auntie Shrew asked in worry.
"Yes, now go!" She ushered them off, before turning back to the wounded fairy. "What do you need? Anything at all?"
It was Spyro who answered her question. "Find something for her to bite down on."
That did nothing to ease her concerns, but she obliged: she took her cloak off and rolled it up into a lump, offering to the fairy. Zoe wordlessly took it between her teeth, bracing herself for what was to come.
"What are you planning to do?"
"I need to remove the venom before I can heal the wound." The dragon told her, extending its claws to full length and lining it up with Zoe's leg. "This is going to be bloody, but it is necessary. Do you understand?" Without waiting for her to respond, he lifted his hand, claws glinting in the sunlight.
The mouse's eyes went wide with horrified realization. "WAIT, YOU AREN'T GOI-!"
*SLING-TUNK!*
Too late. With the same speed that he used to level the corn with, Spyro swung his paw down against the ground with enough force to split down, sending a powerful tremor through the earth. The claw of his pointer finger came down on Zoe's leg, halfway up her shin, so fast and clean that the limb was severed instantaneously; so much so that it took a moment for the blood to come flowing, along with the pain. Zoe screamed into the cloak, biting down hard enough for her fangs to pierce through several layers of the cloth. All the while the poisoned leg tumbled away from the point of impact, spraying blood across the grass as it flew.
Mrs. Brisby lasted a total of two seconds before her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed backwards in a dead faint.
"…u're gonna b….ay?"
"Don't worry, furba…..fine. Not the fi….…st a leg, and pro….'t be the las…"
"Geh…!"
The voices were distant and warbled, as if she was underwater. The black haze of unconsciousness slowly faded into light; as blobs of colors that slowly came into focus, as did the voices of those around her.
"Guys! Mom's waking up!"
Elizabeth groaned as everything slowly became clear around her, including the light headache she was experiencing. The blobs of colors that dominated her vision slowly cleared into the worried faces of her family. Past them she saw the dirt ceiling of her bedroom; as the feeling returned to her body, she could feel herself wrapped in the familiar comfort of her warm bed. She was in her house.
"What…what happened?" She asked weakly, her body feeling as heavy as stone.
"You fainted." Auntie Shrew told her, in a tone that was both relieved yet disapproving, using a wet cloth to dab at the mouse's forehead. "Not hard to guess why, though, given how barbaric that treatment must've been."
"Barbaric, but effective." Zoe's annoyed voice said from across the room.
Zoe! At her voice, life quickly flared back through her veins, and she quickly sat up in bed. A mistake, as her head swam from the motion, and she almost felt faint again. Luckily, her aunt was there to catch her before she fell backwards again. But Elizabeth wasn't paying attention to the shrew anymore: instead, her full focus was locked on the fairy who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room…and at the stomach-churning sight of her amputated leg. Strangely enough, though, it had already been healed to a degree, the skin having fully grown over the stump, which in itself seemed to be elongated in a peculiar shape.
"You…your leg-!" She started, fighting the urge to faint again.
"Is perfectly fine." Zoe reassured her. "As is the rest of me." She motioned to herself.
The mouse was unconvinced. "Your leg was chopped off!"
"It was the fastest means we had to remove the venom and stop it from spreading any further." The fairy explained calmly, though a hint of frustration was clear in her voice; no doubt she already had to explain this to everyone already. "Healing the wound would've meant nothing if I was still poisoned. Afterwards, Spyro healed my leg and everything's okay; we're just waiting for it to grow back."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something but stopped when the last part of that explanation registered in her brain. "Wait…grow back?"
Zoe nodded. "Yeah. We fairies are pretty much made out of magic: as long as there is a good source of it nearby, we can heal from almost anything, even lost limbs." She smiled fondly as she got out of the chair; her wings fluttered to life behind her and she hovered off the ground, just shy of standing on it. "And it just so happens I'm the fairy of one of the strongest sources of magic in the world. My leg will be completely back by this evening."
Okay, that was…well, it wasn't better, but at least there wasn't any permanent damage…at least, that's how it seemed. "…are you in any pain?"
"It's still sore, but nothing I can't handle." She assured her.
In the end, Mrs. Brisby simply gave a heavy sigh and slumped down in bed, running her hands down her face. It was then she took notice of her children gathered around her bed, looking at her with worried expressions; and just like that, her exasperation was immediately replaced with relief.
"Are you all alright?" She asked them, holding her arms out to bring them into a group hug, which they eagerly accepted.
"W-We're okay." Teresa hiccupped, though her voice said otherwise, tears brimming in her eyes. "We…W-We were so worried! There was the Spider, and it got Ms. Zoe, then we heard the scream, and then you were on the ground, and you weren't waking up!"
"Shh-Shhh…" Elizabeth said comfortingly, holding her sobbing children close. "Everything's alright now. There's no need to cry." She gave them a smile. "I just got a little spooked by how Spyro saved Zoe, that's all."
"That's putting it quite lightly." Auntie Shrew stated flatly, giving the fairy an unamused look. "Had I known you were going to use such a barbaric method, I wouldn't have let Elizabeth stay to help!"
"I did warn you all to leave." Zoe stated back just as bluntly…before reaching behind herself and taking out Brisby's cloak, handing it back to its owner. "Though, I'm grateful for said help either way."
The mousey mother nodded wordlessly as she took her cloak back, holding it out to inspect it; there were a few new tears along the middle of it, from where the fairy's razor-sharp teeth had bitten clean through the cloth from the sheer pressure of the bite, but otherwise it was still intact. Nothing a few stitches wouldn't be able to fix.
If only the same could be said about a certain purple reptile.
With Zoe currently incapacitated, it was up to Spyro, Mrs. Brisby and Auntie Shrew to take care of the spider. The dragon waited in front of the shed, ready to pounce the second he was needed, as the two rodentkin burned weeds to smoke the spider out. After only a few seconds, it emerged; it was a foul, black-carapaced creature, easily as large as Mrs. Brisby, with eight skeletal legs each as long as a mouse was tall. It twitched a set of these legs in the air as it crawled out of the shed, hissing angrily at the ones who disturbed it again. Its many beady-red eyes fell upon the two uneasy rodentkin, who quickly backed away as it stared them down, mandibles twitching hungrily at the thought of warm mouse blood for dinner.
That was most likely the last thought that went through its sicky mind; Spyro was upon it before it could even react, smashing it beneath his fore-paw with enough force to shake the ground and send both mouse and shrew tumbling back over themselves. When he lifted his paw, nothing remained but a few twitching legs and a large, disgusting splatter of sicky-green ichor; the dragon gave a satisfied snort upon seeing the revolting creature dead, smoke billowing from his nostrils, before he sauntered off to find a place to relax and lick his paw clean.
As the day continued on, Zoe's words came true: her leg began slowly growing back, the skin healing over in a bulbous sac, stretching longer as the limb regenerated inside it. Mrs. Brisby found it repulsive to look at, a shiver running down her spine every time she saw it, but the children found it morbidly fascinating. When evening rolled around, the leg had stopped growing, and Zoe peeled away the sac like a large clump of dead skin; Brisby had nearly thrown up at the sight (and smell) of it, but her foot was fully restored, and she was walking on it soon after as if nothing had happened.
Said evening was spent in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Brisby was busy mending her cloak while the children played with Zoe on the floor. Even Timmy had come to join them this time; Zoe had convinced her that he would be fine as long as he stayed indoors where it was warm. Zoe was telling them tales from their time across the sea, where the world was much smaller than it was here.
"…And then Spyro unleashed his fiery breath directly into Doctor's Shemp's backside, defeating the voodoo caster with a final blow."
As she told her story, she used her magic to conjure images in pixie dust of the very events, making the characters in it dance to her strings. She made the purple one of Spyro breathe fire into the buttocks of the orange one of a large frog-like creature with a tribal hat and staff. The frog creature gave a comical howl of pain as he jumped up and down, yipping in pain all the way; that earned a round of earnest laughter from her audience.
"With his defeat, the lands of the Peacekeepers were freed from Gnasty Gnorc's influence and returned to the dragons once more." She finished up her story with an image of Spyro breaking several green dragon statues, freeing the trapped dragons inside and restoring the land from a war-stricken desert into a wonderful oasis. "But Spyro's adventure wasn't over yet, fore with the Peacekeepers freed, the Magic-Crafters were the next to need his aid. But that's a story for another time."
A little different from the tale Mrs. Brisby had heard last night, but the less her children knew of that ugly truth, the better.
"Spyro's a hero! Just like papa!" Timothy exclaimed with awe.
"Pfft! I bet dad could've beaten that Dr. Shemp guy just as easily." Martin said with a cocky huff, puffing his chest out in pride. "With one hand behind his back!"
"Oh, I'm sure." Zoe humored him. "But you have to admit: even he would've had trouble with the womenfolk of the Desert Clans, especially those of Shemp's harem."
That made Martin shudder a bit. "Y-Yeah. Those were scary." He admitted.
"Do mice live in the Dragon lands, too?" Cynthia asked curiously, remembering what the fairy had said about the Dragon Realms being much like Nimh, but much smaller. "And they're all tiny like me?"
Zoe smiled at the furling, giving her head a gentle stroke. "Small enough to fit in the palms of your hands, sweetie." She told her, giving her a playful boop on the nose with her finger. Cynthia giggled, only able to imagine what it must be like.
"Could you take us to see the Dragon Realms one day?" Timothy asked, utterly fascinated by the stories of the realm of dragons and their civilization that Zoe had been sharing with them that night.
That gave the fairy pause, the idea of going back to those lands making her visibly uneasy. Her and Spyro's time in the Realms had not been kind to them; a fact that she had been conveniently keeping out of her stories for the children's sake. But she quickly hid her unease, and she ruffled the boy's hair with a smile that hid how she truly felt.
"Maybe one day." She told him. "But right now, Spyro needs a long break from saving the world. Besides, he hasn't gotten to see Nimh outside of Feywild Forest, so meeting you and seeing more of how Rodentkin live will be his next adventure. An adventure you can all help him on once you get better." That brought a smile to the furling's face, eager to begin a new adventure of his own, just like the ones his dad use to go on.
"Do you think Spyro would be able to fit in?" Teresa asked, perhaps the only one of the four who saw the dangers behind such ideas. "I mean, get along with other mice and the rats, like us?"
Zoe's smiled faltered. "That, I honestly don't know for sure." She admitted. "But if you all are anything to go by, then maybe the idea isn't that crazy a dream to think of."
A dream…maybe it was just that, Mrs. Brisby thought to herself. But it was their only hope for a happy future when Spyro was inevitably revealed to the world.
"And speaking of dreams…" She then spoke up, cutting into the conversation before it went any further. "It's time for you all to have some of your own, as it's getting late." Despite the 'awws' of protests she got in return, she merely giggled and ushered her children up off the floor. "Let's get you all ready for bed now."
After getting her children to bed, as tricky as getting four story-excited children to bed, Mrs. Brisby decided to check on the last of the children in her odd little household. Holding a candle close for light and warmth, she stepped outside her house and made her way down the path toward the cave. Luckily, she didn't have to go that far, as she found Spyro lounging on the hillside next to the farm, head turned upwards toward the star-filled skies of Nimh. His ear flicked at her approach, and he turned his head to look at her.
"I wanted to speak with you." She told him.
Spyro's ears flattened against his head. "If this about Zoe's leg, I didn't mean any fright." He said, his telepathic voice showing no waver in its strength. "We did what we had to."
"That's not what I want to talk about." She told him, before she frowned in confusion. "Well, not exactly…I just wanted to ask if you're doing okay after that, just in case."
The dragon blinked, taken a bit aback by her concern. Why, out of all the creatures of all of Nimh, would she be concerned about him? He was Jendovahzoor. Son of Akatosh and true Master of the Elements. There wasn't a foe nor force in this world that he could not face. Not a battle that he could not win. So why would she be worried? He could handle anything thrown his way.
"It's just…not everyone can…" She paused, shuddering at the thought. "…just take off someone's leg without so much as blinking. Even a dragon."
"What do you mean?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "I'm not scared by something I'm used to doing; it's how we dealt with such injuries during our adventure."
That, however, just made her look even sadder. "I'm surprised to hear you call it that, after everything you went through."
Spyro shrugged his wings. "It's the best way to describe it."
"It's not right, though!" She exclaimed, the small mouse making the fox-sized dragon blanch a bit in surprise. "All the pain you went through…the way they treated you…it's just all so unfair! So wrong! And you're acting like it doesn't bother you at all! Even with all those scars!" She looked up at him pleadingly, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "Just…how? How can you stand it?"
Spyro didn't say a word at first, staring at her with a decidedly-stoic expression (which was his natural look, given his reptilian features).
"I…I do feel things." He then said quietly. "Pain. Ache. Sorrow. Anger. The Tight Emptiness. I'm familiar with all of these." A guttural sigh of breath escaped his jaws, an inner light of fire flaring in the back of his throat and outlining his teeth. "I've felt them for so long that I've grown used to their presence, and have learned that they fade with time. Wounds heal and pain fades; it's merely a matter of waiting for them to do so…the only one that continues to persist is the Tight Emptiness, but even that I'm used to."
Mrs. Brisby had a lot she could've said in regard to all that, but the thing that caught her attention was the last, and it made her blink in confusion. "The Tight Emptiness…you mentioned this before. What is it?"
Spyro snorted, displeased to think of it. "A sensation I've experienced for as long as I can remember." He admitted as he laid his head on the ground, just glaring forward at the thought of it, eyes glowing in the dark. "An ache in my chest caused neither by arrow nor blade, but still hurts none the less. It feels like the inside of my chest has been hollowed out with a sword; like my ribs are empty and left for the cold air to blow through. I've been searching for what will make it heal for years, but never found it.
…but then…then I saw you. The day Cynthia was hurt. You tended to her. Sang to her. Comforted her in her time of pain. And when I saw that…I felt…" He paused, staring at the ground in confusion. "…I don't know what I felt, but it was something other than the Tight Emptiness, if just for that one moment." He looked at her, eyes shining with an inner fire. "And that night, when you came to comfort me in my pain just as you had for her…I felt…"
"Loved."
Spyro froze on the spot as her soft voice caressed his ears, and something familiar began to bloom inside him.
"What?"
"You felt loved." Mrs. Brisby told him, smiling warmly. "The Tight Emptiness you feel? It's called Loneliness. You're lonely." She approached him quietly. "And when I came to you last night and comforted you in your time of need, you felt loved." She approached until she was next to his eye, her entire body lit up in the glow of it…then, being as gentle as possible, she raised her hand and petted against the side of his face. The dragon stiffened at the contact at first, a warning growl rumbling from his throat making her pause, but that growl slowly faded as she continued to stroke the scaly skin in front of her. "You asked me today what it feels like to be loved. And, well…this is my answer to you."
She then leaned herself against the scaly surface in front of her and spread her arms out in a makeshift hug, doing the best she could to embrace the much larger creature; she rested her cheek against the ridge of his cheekbone, gently nuzzling him as if he were nothing more than another one of her furlings.
"You don't have to wait for the pain to go away anymore." She told him softly, looking up at his eye with her own warm ones. "People who are loved, they don't have to wait. They have others that will help heal them, if you let them in."
"…Let them in where?" Spyro asked, his voice now nothing more than a whisper.
Mrs. Brisby smiled. "Where else? Into your heart."
And for that one perfect moment, things were perfect; two souls, one grieving the loss of one she loved, and the other carrying the scars of many pains, finding comfort in each other. Where the world took from them, they could find solace in each other, no matter how different they were from each other. No matter how large or how small.