Legend of Spyro: Four Pillars of Aether, Book II

by Blazcowitz43

Three years later, Warfang has fallen and tyranny reigns. Guilt-ridden and long thought dead, Spyro has left his home and prophecy behind for a new life of peace with the dragonflies in the distant swamps. But the war rages on for Cynder, Flame and Ember, who among others fight back against Gaul's rule as Malefor's return draws nearer. Will the Four Who Lived become one again?

4. Chapter 4: Days of Darkness

Chapter 4:

Days of Darkness

Hunter reflects on the memories he'd rather forget and the secret he cannot. As the Legion of Liberation makes plans to rescue the Guardians, the Apes enjoy the life of conquerors in the lost Dragon City, once a place of hopes and dreams now a city of fear and desperation. But all is not well in Gaul's new domain...

Three years ago, the day of the attack…

As more barrel bombs exploded through the forest, Hunter had wasted no time in mounting up on Finbarr's saddle once again, urging him with a frantic,

"Fly, damn you, fly!"

"Yes, sir!" Finbarr exclaimed as he broke into a gallop, trees shattering and bursting into flames around them as the Dreadwings shrieked above them. The courier dragon then made a stout leap, his wings thrusting down like great sails as he began to ascend, but Hunter's paws swiftly grabbed his head and pushed it downward.

"No, stay low!" he shouted, "They'll rip us apart in the open! Stay below the trees!"

"Are you crazy?" Finbarr revolted as Hunter effectively steered him down towards the ground.

"Just do it!" he roared, Hunter clutching onto Finbarr's neck tightly as they swept through the trees, the grass waving as they soared barely inches above the ground. Hunter tightened his grip as the trees came up at breakneck speed, Finbarr murmuring in fear as he swerved around and between them, the explosions behind them soon dying down as the Dreadwings ran out of ordinance, swooping low over the tree tops as they tried to pursue them. Hunter tried looking over his shoulder to see them, but Finbarr's speed and constant swaying made it all but impossible to keep track. All the time, the Cheetah warrior's mind was a tornado of conflicting thoughts about what should be done. Right now, they were running, but where should they run to? Should they try and return to Avalar to warn the others? Or should they stay and try to find the Guardians?

The terrain became hilly as Finbarr tried to follow the contours of the ground as the trees swept by them. The screams and shrieks above showed the Dreadwings were still chasing them, but they had no idea if they knew where they were. The ground suddenly took a steep plunge as Finbarr dived down an embankment, pulling up sharply as his tail scraped against the ground, the forest around them darkening.

"Be careful!" Hunter hissed, hoping his voice was not loud enough to give them away.

"I'm trying!" Finbarr cried with alarming volume, prompting a swift retort.

"Quiet!" Hunter said coldly just as Finbarr yelped in alarm and ducked for a low branch that the Cheetah did not see in time, resulting in it in slapping across his face as he angrily swiped it away.

"Sorry!" Finbarr apologized earnestly as he swiftly banked left and right to avoid any more collisions with the trees.

"Just keep quie…" Hunter had begun to say, the dragon courier still speaking too loudly when he saw the approaching danger that made his heart jump. Hunter's sharp eyes saw through the heavily shadowed woods, past the trees and bumpy surface of the ground to see the near vertical cliff face rapidly approaching them. The forest canopy hid its true size as the two came barreling towards it, panic overcoming Finbarr as he let out a terrified wail.

"Pull up! Pull up!" Hunter shouted as he grabbed the dragons' horns, pulling his head back as if to steer him, Finbarr pulling up sharply as Hunter felt his heart ready to bound out of his chest. The cliff face came upon them, slipping by beneath them as they found themselves zooming vertically, flying up the cliff face as it soared above the forest canopy, the pair suddenly finding themselves exposed in the open air!

"Finbarr!" came Hunter's exasperated cry as they leveled out, passing over top of the tall rock formation with Warfang reappearing far off to their left. They were still to the northwest of the city, the great viaduct almost parallel to them now as clouds of black smoke obscured a fair portion of the city's western approach. The courier was too distraught to answer back to Hunter's cry, frantically looking around as the shrill wail of Dreadwings started up again behind them. Hunter looked behind and saw four of the bat monsters banking around and heading towards them, their riders pointing up and brandishing crossbows. At once, Hunter began to ready his bow as he shouted,

"Dive down! Hurry, back into the trees!"

"Ye-Yes, sir!" Finbarr stuttered, rocking back anxiously and then entering a dive back towards the forest, Hunter readying his bow for the hostiles behind.

"Hunter!" Finbarr screamed, "Dead ahead!"

Quickly turning back, Hunter gasped as three more Dreadwings appeared, coming at them head on, cutting off an easy dive into the forest. Acting fast, Hunter aimed his bow, firing off an arrow out of fright, the shot zooming over the nearest Dreadwing as the rider took aim.

"Break right!" Hunter bellowed, Finbarr swinging his body as hard as he could to the right while pulling up, trying to out climb their pursuers as both of them heard the heart stopping sound of crossbow bolts zipping through the air and missing, just. Hunter grasped the saddle during the turn, eyeing the swarm of screaming monstrosities that nearly collided with each other as they banked around to pursue them.

"Where are we going?" Finbarr shouted as he aimed himself firmly away from the besieged city. Hunter knew at that moment that he had to make up his mind of what to do, and while not perceiving it at that moment, the events following his decision would follow him until the present day. He looked behind at the howling Dreadwings as they tried to be the first to get the kill as the once safe haven of Warfang smoked and burned behind them. Flying into that storm would be suicide, but the open sky before them offered no refuge, not with their foes right on their tail.

"We need to get back undercover!" Hunter cried as he readied another arrow, seeing the Ape riders preparedly holding up their crossbows, "Get us back below the trees!"

"The forest is too thick! I can't see an opening!" Finbarr protested, even as he began to descend lower towards the forest. Hunter looked down himself and saw the forest speeding past them, its thick canopy offering no ready entrance. Despite this, he told the hapless courier,

"Keep evading and find one!"

Finbarr nodded grimly, swerving quickly to the left as another crossbow bolt shot past them, Hunter quickly returning the favor with his bow, the shot finding the rider of the nearest Dreadwing, his body falling limp over the saddle of his mount as it flew on regardless. Hunter grasped another arrow as Finbarr violently banked left and then right, nearly losing the arrow in the process as two more crossbow bolts zipped over them.

"We're going too fast!" Finbarr squealed as he frantically searched for an opening in the trees, "Even if I see one, we'll pass right over it!"

"Just keep us moving!" Hunter yelled back as he tried to take aim, though he realized that his companion was right; at the speed they were flying any attempt to break through the canopy would likely result in a crash, especially if they couldn't see what was on the other side. They could not slow down, either, not with the Dreadwings behind them! Hunter fired his arrow, striking the rider-less monster in its head, the Dreadwing plummeting down to earth, the others doubling their efforts to catch up. Finbarr looked behind as they soared onward, his eyes bulging as he saw the snapping jaws of the bat beasts as more crossbows were fired. Panicking, Finbarr suddenly pulled upwards, throwing off Hunter's aim as the crossbow bolts soared, one skimming the right side of the dragon's tail, his responding screams the sound of nightmares.

"Ah! Hunter, they got me!" Finbarr wailed as his panting became crazed as he began swerving about the sky in a panic, Hunter becoming seriously afraid he may faint while they were still flying. The Cheetah warrior strained to see the state of his tail and keep his hold on the saddle as he was thrown about, glimpsing the bloodied gash on its side as fresh blood smeared down the side of his tail.

"It's alright, Finbarr! It's just a scratch!" Hunter called as he clutched his legs tight over the saddle, holding his bow in one hand as he clasped the front handles on the saddle. Perhaps not hearing him or too afraid to care, the courier dragon dropped into a dive, Hunter's stomach lurching almost into his chest. Another volley of crossbow bolts shot over them, Finbarr flapping his wings like a machine as he started climbing and diving like waves on the ocean, Hunter struggling to keep a hold.

"Finbarr! Finbarr!" he shouted desperately, Hunter letting out a cry of horror as he saw the arrows in his quiver flying out into the air and falling around him, thrown loose from Finbarr's erratic maneuvers!

"What are we going to do?!" the courier dragon yelled out, looking back to Hunter and the demons chasing them. Driven by frustration as much as fear, Hunter slipped the bow over his arm as he scowled and lunged forward, grabbing Finbarr by his horns to steady his squirming, locking his head forward.

"We won't get through this if we panic!" Hunter told him seriously, "Calm down and we'll see this through! Just trust me and listen to what I say, understand?"

It sounded as much of a threat as it was a reassurance, but Finbarr seemed to understand Hunter's sincere concern for him as well as himself, the dragon courier's breathing began to steady though he nearly forgot about the crossbows aimed directly at his back. As if by sixth sense, Hunter looked over his shoulder just in time to see the Ape riders taking aim.

"Bank left!" he barked, Finbarr acting without delay and almost rolling over to his left, the bolts shearing past and narrowly avoiding his wing. As they both collected themselves, Hunter realized that all his companion's erratic flying had once more put them with the city firmly to their left. Right ahead of them a storm of fire was raging in the forest near the shore, huge clouds of smoke hiding anything behind it. It was the same fire that had prompted him to order Finbarr to fly further inland, now it was spreading in a huge blanket that was consuming everything in its path. At the time, he had no idea what had caused it but the answer would come soon enough that day.

"Head for the smoke!" Hunter pointed ahead at the raging firestorm, "We'll try to lose them in it!"

"That fire might burn down the whole forest!" Finbarr shouted despairingly.

"Can't be helped now! Head for it but don't make us a steady target!" Hunter told him as he gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder, spurring the courier dragon onward as he aimed for the distant flames, shifting around the sky to throw of their enemies aim. A quick zigzag saved them from another volley as the Dreadwings sheared the sky with their screams, the siege of Warfang raging onward as Hunter looked across at the stricken city heavily. He saw black towers of smoke rising across the city as dozens of Dragons and Dreadwings clashed in the skies above, not understanding why most of the dragoons didn't seem to be using their elements against the enemy. Despite his own peril, he could not help but think of all those in the city walls, especially the Dragon Guardians and young dragons Spyro, Cynder, Flame and Ember. He wondered what had become of them, wondered if they were safe, feared that Gaul had already got to them first. The forest fire fast approached, the veil of rising smoke blocking out view of the sky as Finbarr carried Hunter straight towards it. Finbarr had managed to pull ahead of the Dreadwings, far enough to be outside crossbow range, a fact that made Hunter chuckle confidently as he patted his companion's shoulder once again,

"You're leaving them behind! Good job, Finbarr!"

"We're going to do it! We're going to do it!" the courier dragon told himself confidently, looking behind to see the shrieking Dreadwings far behind him. Hunter allowed himself to feel hope that they might escape, just before he saw a Dreadwing fly from behind the wall of smoke ahead of them! His eyes shrank as he locked eyes with the beast as its rider pointed towards them, the bat monster aiming its jagged maw at them.

"Finbarr, lookout!" Hunter shouted, drawing his eyes forward, too late. In an instant a deafening, sonic screech hit them with the force of a hammer blow, shaking them like an earthquake and ripping into their ears. The pair became paralyzed for a moment, a moment that saw Finbarr's wings go limp as they fell towards the forest! Hunter remembered screaming his name as loud as he could, but hearing nothing as his ears rang and they plummeted from the sky, seemingly doomed. He grabbed the saddle hard as they crashed through the treetops, leaves and branches snapping and scratching them as they slammed through the thick canopy, Hunter closing his eyes as he flattened himself over Finbarr's back. He didn't hear the noise of the crash, but he surely felt it as Finbarr slammed into the ground and somersaulted, throwing the Cheetah warrior through the air as he landed on his right arm and felt a crack, tumbling over several times as dirt and grass were dragged along with him.

As he finally came to a stop, though his heart was still rolling in his chest, Hunter was only glad he could not hear his own pain as he lay wincing and gasping at the treetops. As he lay on the ground, stunned and in pain, he saw clouds of orange sparks flying past like fireflies and it became apparent just how hot the environment was. Hunter tried moving his head, his heart crying for joy when he realized that he still could, looking to his left in the direction the embers had come from. His ears were still ringing; thus it was his eyes that alerted him to the danger that was creeping up on him. Hunter gasped as he saw the great billowing flames reaching out and engulfing the forest less than fifty feet to the left of him, the crash having brought him right to the fire's edge!

There was a steep incline that the flames had already overcome, now burning on the other side and reaching the forest near to him, a single large bush a little way up the slope was seemingly impervious to the fires around it as it remained untouched. His survival instinct kicking into life, Hunter scrambled backwards like a crab, groaning hurtfully as every pain and ache he had received in the crash flared up like the flames creeping towards him. He looked over his right shoulder in search of Finbarr, wincing as he saw the courier dragon rolled on his left side on the forest floor, his heaving chest showing that he was still alive.

Hunter called out to him on instinct, until he realized the dragon was probably still as deaf as he was. Then he remembered the Dreadwings, sure they would pounce on them any second as he pulled himself up and ran towards Finbarr. As he reached him, he saw the courier dragon was gasping and groaning in pain, though he still could not hear him. Hunter dropped to his knees close to his head so that he might see him, glancing quickly up at the forest canopy for any dangers. He caught glimpses of one or more Dreadwings swooping over the hole they had made in the treetops, but they didn't seem to want to get too close to the raging fire. That was good for them, at least for the moment. Finbarr looked up in shock at Hunter, his eyes widening further still when he saw the raging fire behind the Cheetah.

"Get up! Get up!" Hunter shouted, finally beginning to hear his own voice again, "We've got to go!" he said as he tried pulling the dragon to his feet. Finbarr said something back that he didn't hear clearly, but it didn't seem to matter as he kept struggling to his feet all the same. Grabbing around his waist, Hunter strained to help his companion onto all fours as his hearing returned enough to hear the heavy beating of the wings of the hovering Dreadwings and their terrible screams above.

"Are you alright?" Hunter cried loudly, hoping Finbarr's hearing was clearing up like his.

"What did you say?" Finbarr asked aloud, giving Hunter his unfortunate answer.

"Are you alright?!" he repeated louder, more frustrated, Finbarr thankfully nodding with understanding this time, but his face soon turned to despair as his wings painfully twitched.

"My wings… it hurts too much to flap them…" he said, grimacing just as a loud shriek from above made them both look up at the treetops. Hunter's heart sank at the thought Finbarr's wings might be broken or at least too injured to be used right then. He looked behind at the flames that were creeping nearer, the tremendous heat it gave off making the fur on his body feel heavy. He looked back at the treetops, knowing they would be set upon straight away even if they could fly out. The most sensible thing at that moment seemed to be for them to stay below the treetops and try and slip away on foot before anyone came searching for them.

"Are you sure you can't fly?" Hunter asked again, hoping for a miracle. Finbarr closed his eyes and tried opening his wings again, but almost immediately his eyes shot open in burning pain as he let out a hurtful yelp.

"It's no good! I'm sorry, Hunter…" Finbarr said in a brittle voice as he dipped his head, close to tears.

Hunter patted his shoulder reassuringly, "Nothing to be done, my friend, you got us this far! We need to get out of here before…"

Hunter cut himself off as he and Finbarr heard an incoming whistle, thanks to their mostly returned hearing. As soon as they heard it, they both on instinct ran the opposite way, right towards the burning hill as the barrel bomb came screaming down behind them! Despite the folly of such a move, fear overcame all else as the pair were knocked down as the bomb crashed through the trees and erupted in a blinding roar somewhere behind them, Hunter covering his head as the force of the blast swept over them. The trees shook and the flames waved about from the blast as metal fragments cut into and slashed the trees around them. As Hunter lifted his head, glancing to Finbarr who lay beside him, the pair looked at each other in disbelief at the fact they were still alive. His heart thumping against the ground, Hunter looked over his shoulder, seeing the now cratered, burning ground where the bomb had fallen, beginning its own fire that threatened to encircle them and join with the fires raging in front of them.

"Come on!" Hunter said frantically as scrambled to his feet and turned towards the impact crater, "Before more of those things get dropped on us!"

"Hunter, get down!" Finbarr screamed, the Cheetah hearing the other whistle too late as another blast erupted, his heart skipping a beat as he was dazed by a thundering flash as he was again knocked down, the Cheetah warrior thrown backwards as he felt a searing pain stab into his left shoulder like a knife.

"Hunter!" he heard Finbarr wail as Hunter lay gasping in the grass, the clouds of sparks swirling over him as he felt hot blood wetting his tunic over his left shoulder. Hunter stared in horror as he saw a serrated piece of jagged metal about the length of a dagger's blade sticking out of the flesh of his shoulder. Finbarr scurried up beside him, probably asking if he was alright, though Hunter was too distracted that moment to hear anything he said. Finbarr's eyes popped out at the sight of the metal fragment imbedded in his shoulder, quickly falling into panic as he looked at the blazing forest around them.

"Hunter! The flames! We've got to go!" he pleaded as the Cheetah had already settled on what to do next. Deciding he could not leave the metal in place, Hunter grabbed his sleeve in his teeth, tearing off a strip of it before he reached over and grabbed a fallen branch that lay nearby, Finbarr watching as he slipped the thickest part of the branch into his mouth and clamped his fangs down onto it. After that, he sat his head back and locked his eyes on the metal in his shoulder. Ignoring Finbarr's pleading and questions, he wrapped the torn garment around his palm and sucked in his breath through the tree branch, bracing for what was to come next. Growling, he clasped his wrapped paw around the jagged metal, wincing as he tightened his grip and pulled. Finbarr watched in open mouthed, morbid horror as Hunter crunched the branch in his mouth, tears welling in his eyes as he committed to a single, swift pull that drew the bloodied metal shard from his body.

The branch cracked from the force of Hunter's bite, his fangs narrowly missing his own tongue as he snarled with furious pain, panting like he had walked across a desert without a drop of water for days. He threw the piece of metal away into the brush, blood still flowing from the wound it had left as he spat out the branch and clasped his paw over it.

"Hunter! Hunter, are you alright?" Finbarr babbled as he nervously trotted around him, "We can't stay here, the flames are getting closer!"

"I know, I know!" Hunter snapped, still spitting out pieces of bark as he tried to push himself up on his elbow while keeping pressure on his wound. The dragon courier ducked his head under the Cheetah's arm, which he hooked around as he helped him to his feet. Hunter and Finbarr were now surrounded in a haze of twirling smoke as the flames from both sides drew nearer. Back on his feet, Hunter held the wound tightly as coughed into his arm as he gazed about at the swirling flames, Finbarr bunching up close to him as he looked about in despair.

"Stay low!" Hunter coughed as he entered a crouch, "Get below the smoke!" he said as Finbarr hunched down next to him. Hunter felt his breath getting course as he looked behind them and then ahead towards the mound where the true heart of firestorm was burning on the other side. It was just then that he noticed the same bush from before, the one that was untouched despite all the embers in the air. It had only just started to combust, drawing his eyes to just behind it where he saw a dark shape that he had thought was its shadow. As the flames took a hold of the bush, he noticed the shape behind it did not change, reveling that it was instead something in the land itself. His eyes burning from the smoke, Hunter fixated on it as he suddenly moved forward a few paces, ignoring Finbarr's protests. Seeing past the bush, Hunter saw the dark shape was in fact an opening in the hill; a cave! And it looked just tall enough for Finbarr to fit through…

"What are you doing?" demanded Finbarr as he nervously followed up behind him.

"There!" the Cheetah warrior pointed, "Head for that cave!"

"Cave? What?" the courier dragon asked incredulously.

"This way!" Hunter waved, staying low as he began crouch running towards it, passing by the burning trees and patches of grass that were becoming alight. Finbarr followed against all his instincts, running through the smoke after Hunter as he moved swiftly to the cave. Hunter came to a quick stop as he reached it, glancing over his shoulder at Finbarr as he examined the roughly 'A' shaped opening in the ground. It had been partly hidden by the now burning bush, though it was still too dark to see far inside it.

"What are we doing?" Finbarr asked frantically.

"We can't go back, we'll be sitting ducks," Hunter explained, "Come on!" he cried as he made to enter the cave.

"We don't know where it goes!" Finbarr protested.

"As long as it's away from here, come on!" Hunter replied impatiently, scowling at his injured shoulder as he crouched and made his way through the narrow opening. Facing little other choice, Finbarr crouched also and followed him, Hunter praying that the cave would open up to something larger than what he could see now…

Dante's Freezer, the present day…

Hunter lay wide awake long after the memories had been relived through his mind, the flames of the campfire still crackling away as still lay tucked into a ball in the icy cavern. He still clutched the satchel against his stomach like it were an infant he was sworn to protect, though really what he was holding was not something within the satchel but behind it; his heart. For because his mind had not been merciful to him, it had opened a wound he had received that day three years ago. It was not the wound in his shoulder which had long since healed, nor was it the collective wound that the population of the realms shared for the loss of the young hero, Spyro, and his mentor, Ignitus. It was a wound inflicted on that same day but only upon Hunter and the young courier Finbarr; a wound of guilt that he had not wanted to relive but his mind had decided otherwise. The decision for them to enter that cave was one of many decisions he questioned about that day, but it was the one he most of all wanted to forget.

For three years he and other members of the Legion had been fighting to resist the rule of the Apes and stop Gaul's masterplan of resurrecting Malefor, the Dark Master. How the Ape King planned to carry this out they did not know, but if Volteer and Cyril were still alive, they might have some insight into what he was planning. The success or failure of the next day or so were critical to that; it represented a chance to turn the tide against the enemy. Everyone knew the story of what happened this day three years ago, the attack on Warfang, the heroic last charge of the Doxantha, the many friends and loved ones lost during the attack, Hunter's own tribe becoming bitterly divided between loyalty to their own or to the safety of the realms and the Dragons. Most central of all to the Legion was the fate of Spyro and Ignitus, particularly to Cynder, Flame and Ember, the group formally known as the 'Four who lived' now they had lost their fourth member.

All citizens of the realms and even the Apes knew their story; how they had heroically fought side by side in a brave but futile attempt to save Warfang. How they had tried to flee together but were confronted by the Ape King's most trusted killer; the Masked Assassin. How in a pitched battle they had bested and defeated him, but so mortally wounded and weakened in doing so they had been set upon and eventually overwhelmed by swarms of Apes and Dreadwings led by Gaul himself, taking countless of the enemy with them before the Fire Guardian and the Purple Dragon of Legend had finally fallen. The Ape's own propaganda claimed the Ape King had kept the remains of the two dragons as grisly trophies and were locked away from the rest of the world, only to be shown to the Dark Master once he had returned.

The fact the Ape King had never publicly flaunted these remains to taunt and dishearten his enemies was enough to convince most folk that there was nothing left of them and that Gaul was merely trying to inflate his own ego and spite the downtrodden populations he now controlled. Gaul's claims were ultimately fruitless anyhow, for the Legion knew the truth because of what Hunter and Finbarr had told of that day when they had entered the caves to escape the raging fires and their pursuers. They knew at least that Spyro and Ignitus had been spared that particular indignity, though their fate was still grim. The Fire Guardian and Purple Dragon's bodies had been lost to the flames and whatever was left was devoured by the nests of Bulb spiders Hunter and Finbarr had encountered in the caves. That was the story they had told about the day Spyro and Ignitus died.

And they both knew it was a lie.

Meanwhile, in the occupied city of Warfang…

The evening sky was dull as a heavy cloud cover obscured most of it from view. The usually brilliant sunset was hidden from the world as the choppy sea washed against the shores outside of the city. There was a rumble in the air like that of thunder as dark clouds hovered above the city, but the sound and sight of them was anything but natural as the wind blew from the sea towards Warfang. The city that had at one time been a majestic sight, a beacon of hope and prosperity had turned into a monument of defeat; a city cloaked in fear and smothered by defeat. Such had been the case for three years since the occupation began, a week after Spyro and Ignitus had died.

Seen from afar, the brewing storm swirled above the city in an unnatural concentration, a ghoulish ball of green light glowed from behind the swirling clouds high above the very center of Warfang where a new building rose like a stake through the very heart of the city, spoiling the once idyllic cityscape. Standing between the plateau of Castle Hill and beside the connecting viaduct to the now derelict observatory was a monumental, rectangular stone tower; the Tower of Gaul. Rising from the ground like a black, poisonous weed amidst a pristine garden, the mammoth structure had been constructed by slave labor at breakneck speed, resembling the structures in and around the Mountain of Malefor than anything in Warfang. Its cold black blocks rose even higher than Castle Hill, swarms of Dreadwings flew in a constant rotation around the top of the tower to protect it against aerial attacks, seemingly in concert with the swirling clouds above. Scores of homes and other buildings had been forcefully demolished to make room for the construction of this abomination, the surviving buildings in its immediate vicinity now abandoned or occupied by the Apes.

Running its entire length on all four corners of the tower were sturdy iron columns with protruding metal spikes, each one a few feet long and spaced about ten feet apart as they climbed the tower. The structure contained many floors as it ascended into the sky, each floor having several arrow slits on each side of the tower to allow those inside to fire on any attackers below or flying dangers should they fly close to the tower. On especially dark nights it was possible to see the arrow slits illuminated by the torches inside the building, giving each slit the eerie appearance of numerous glowing eyes gazing out across the city. At the very top of the tower, shaped like a lighthouse was the open platform of the tower's top floor.

A wide observation platform surrounded the tower's peak, bristling with soldiers armed with crossbows and mounted cannons to protect it. In the center of the floor was an open hole large enough for an Ape Commander to fall through if he were careless, another trait shared with the throne room of the Mountain of Malefor. It was unlikely anyone would fall through the well in the floor though, owing to the shimmering beam of dark green magic that channeled through it from deep inside the tower and shot up into the air. Situated on the roof above this was a tall, heavy steel frame shaped into a pyramid pointing up into the sky which the ominous stream of green magic pulsated through.

The stream shot through the apex of the steel pyramid, concentrating into a great cluster of the sickly green magic that the clouds now parted enough to reveal; suspended high in the air above the pyramid, surging with the dark green magic that fed into it from the tower was a colossal, pulsating crystal. Its appearance was similar to the Spirit Gems that were found throughout the realms, formed in a sharp, tetragonal shape, but is enormous size was far greater than any naturally grown gem, nearly as tall as the old dragon temple that was now nothing but a derelict ruin. Its insidious shade of green was also quite different from any natural gem, namely the green gems that were normally used to infuse Dragons with elemental mana.

The crystal slowly rotated as it was held in the energy beam, spitting and crackling with lightning-esque arches of green energy; the same energy that had swept over the city on the day of the siege and robbed the Dragons of the use of their mana. The shifting storm clouds kept wide of the unnatural stone as if they themselves were fearful of it, but were still compelled to encircle it, its dark magic affecting the very climate ever since it had been raised above the city by Gaul. The city had been plagued by storms ever since, the sky above the city never showing a starry night or blue daytime in three years; only those with a view from the taller buildings could glimpse the outside weather that seemed to be another world entirely.

From the ground up, there was not a stone or blade of grass, much less citizen that hadn't been noticeably affected by the change in ownership ever since the Apes had taken over the city. The fighting that had taken place within the ancient walls had been brutal and the damage was still plain to see. Many of the city's buildings still bore scars from three years ago, including gaping holes and fire damage caused by the siege. Among the many examples of disrepair was the same building that the ill-fated merchant airship had crashed into; few knowing at the time of its secret mission to fly the purple dragon and his companions out of the city. The collapsed floors remained exposed like the ribs of a skeleton, the whole building and those close to it left abandoned for fear it might all come crashing down.

The Apes had only allowed minimal repairs to be carried out and those had usually been only to benefit themselves over the population. Buildings that had collapsed into and blocked streets or damaged essential infrastructure had been repaired or cleared away, but throughout the city one could still find piles of rubble and partially fallen structures that the Apes refused to allow any work be performed on. This fact showed far more than callousness on their part; the remaining population took this as a clear sign that the long-term survival of Warfang was not part of the Ape King's plans.

Outside the city walls, the viaduct that had been destroyed by the Doxantha's noble last charge had since been repaired, the citizens of the city being forced to repair it by the threat of the whip and the tip of the spear once the city had been secured. The fortifications had all been repaired as well, but had been changed to suit the taste of the city's new overlords. Adorning the walls beside the gatehouse of the city's western approach were the dark purple banners replacing those once used by the Dragons and Moles. The large rectangular banners bore the black shape of the Ape King's helmet, a rounded dome with small, triangular spike on its crest with the large metal horns protruding from the sides.

Beneath the helmet, also in black, was the shape of Gaul's signature scimitar like blades, the weapons depicted horizontally with their pommels or bottoms touching each other. The left side blade was depicted with its leading edge facing down while its brother's leading edge was faced upward, the whole banner then lined around the edges in fine silver trim. These banners were hung intermittently all along the outside walls of Warfang and atop the flagpoles of every important building and turret on the city wall, making it plain to see to all in and outside of Warfang who was in control, not that any of them could forget as much as they might have wanted to.

The flags were not the only part of the city to receive alterations. Along the ramparts where the famous, ornate golden dragon cannons had once been mounted, there were now hideous and frightful monstrosities of weapons that took their place. The cannons were built wider to more readily accommodate the average Ape soldier, the ornate golden likeness of a dragon replaced by a dark, gargoyle-esque likeness of a fearsome Death Hound. The cannons muzzles were fashioned in the appearance of a snarling Death Hound, the barrels keeping the basic rectangular shape as their predecessors but were furnished in dark metals, giving an overall cruder but potent appearance. The Death Hound characteristics continued to the loading mechanism behind each cannon which was now adorned with the likeness of the stumpy, spiked tail of the accursed hounds. The final major change to them was that these cannons could rotate a full three hundred and sixty degrees so then they could be brought to bear against the city if needed, the Apes always wary of potential uprisings within the city, as unlikely as they were now.

From atop the western gatehouse, a tall Ape Commander stood alongside a pair of Lieutenants as he looked through a spyglass he held in his right hand, staring out across the viaduct towards the landscape beyond. From atop this post, it had once been possible to look out across the pristine, green landscape of forests and grasslands that had made up the approaches to Warfang. The great forests and lush grass that were so fertile and beautiful had always been a treat to the eyes, but no longer. For now, from the coast to across the hills in a scene that expanded for many miles across the land, an ugly display of destruction filled the eyes for as far as they could see.

From atop the gatehouse, only the very distant hills looked to be untouched, while from above the area of scorched earth vaguely resembled a black and grey oval shape that expanded almost thirty miles in diameter. Even after three years, the landscape was struggling to recover, the burnt-out husks of the once vibrant forests covered the scorched earth like tombstones to their own demise. There were few blades of green grass sprouting amidst all the ash and decay and were all but invisible from afar.

The fires that had created this catastrophe has started during the siege and had spread like a deadly plague, eventually forming into an inferno that cut off the western approach to Warfang altogether, creating a wall of fire that consumed everything in its path. This careless act had impeded the Apes during the first few days of the siege, slowing the advance of the rest of their armies coming from the Mountain of Malefor, but not enough to change the outcome. Those travelling either to or from the city in this direction had no choice but to pass through this drab reminder of how far things had fallen since the Apes had conquered Warfang and killed Spyro, the purple dragon.

The Ape Commander refocused his spyglass on the road leading on from the end of the viaduct, a cold smile forming on his toothsome jaw as he eyed the head of an approaching caravan of wagons making its way towards the city. His heart leapt excitedly as he saw the snake like tail of a whip dancing through the air and lashing the beast of burden that was pulling the wagon forward, both its handler and he as an observer enjoying the cruelty that was being handed down on the beast. The 'beast,' of course, being a dragon.

It was not the only one. At the head of the caravan, pulling the first open topped wagon along was a mighty Earth dragon, the chocolate brown scales on his back and his ivory-colored wings streaked with the gruesome scars of innumerable lashes from the whip, given to him liberally by the large Ape Commander riding at the front of the carriage he was chained to. Marching alongside several meters out from both sides of the trail of caravans were additional guards to protect the convoy from attack and to prevent any prisoner escapes. Each wagon was flanked by two groups consisting of two Ape soldiers and one Lieutenant, the latter of each group holding the harness of a snarling Death Hound while the two subordinates carried a crossbow and spear between them.

Overhead and high above, a group of four Dreadwings, flying wing to wing beside each other, passed over top of the convoy as they patrolled the skies for any sign of movement or airborne threats. After passing over the head of the convoy, the Dreadwing formation split into two, the two pairs banking around the left and right of the line of wagons, circling back and rejoining the formation as they swooped over and flew back the way they had come for the umpteenth time that day. The mood of the guards below was relaxed now that they were so close to the city and the burnt out remains of the landscape provided no suitable place where an ambush might be sprung.

Rattling away and sparkling in the back of the first wagon was a huge mound of uprooted Spirit Gems, plucked from the ground like weeds and thrown into the back like old luggage. Another crack of a whip from behind rang through the air, followed by another behind that, along with the subdued groans of the recipients, who were now long since used to their sharp tongues. Another whip cracked and then another, accompanied by the monotonous drown of heavy wheels rolling along beneath fully laden wagons. Stretching back for more than a mile, the line of wagons slowly rolled onward towards the occupied city, each one pulled along by a dragon who had now been reduced to the role of a mule. They were dragons of both sexes and all elements, but there was one noteworthy aspect that united them other than their shared hardship; the collars they wore around their necks, the collars that all dragons living under Ape rule had to wear under penalty of death.

They were surprisingly ornate given the dark purpose they served, each one was formed in the likeness of a snake that wrapped around the wearer's neck in a double loop, the head of the snake dipping down on the chest of the wearer. The collars were a green color, the same shade as the crystal that was suspended above the Dragon City, the eyes of the collars a menacing red as if they were alive and ready to strike. In fact, these snakes had once been living creatures, though created through the dark powers of corrupted magic, they transformed into metal collars once they had been applied to the wearer. The color they shared came from the magic that flowed through them; the magic they received from the crystal atop the Tower of Gaul. These collars were more than just symbolic of the dragon's new subservient role; they were an additional weapon against potential uprising. The collars continually drained a dragon's natural mana, rendering them unable to use any elemental powers. Even if they gained access to a Spirit Gem, the collars would quickly neutralize any gained power before it could be used. Removing the collars was illegal and in any case was all but impossible it seemed as only the Apes knew the means to do so.

At the head of the convoy, the chocolate brown Earth dragon grimaced as he received another lash, gazing through painfilled eyes towards the approaching viaduct and the city beyond it, his mind only focused on making it there and surviving the torment of another day. He drew a deep breath as he dragged himself over the ashen ground towards the viaduct, the glowing green crystal above the city providing a depressing landmark. Another lash stung him like the bite of a viper, his boiling anger manifesting in thoughts of how he might like to manipulate the power of Earth against the wretch of an Ape that was holding the whip, but no sooner had the thoughts come to mind then the snake collar ominously glowed, the Earth dragon suddenly losing the breath he had taken, his bulky form becoming unsteady on his feet. Spontaneous exhaustion came over like a fever as he came to a halt.

"Get moving you lumbering tub of lard!" the Ape atop the wagon rasped, viciously flailing the whip over and over the chocolate dragon's back, the shock of the violence enough to force him onward, jerking the wagon forward again. He mentally chastised himself for letting his mind slip like that, knowing what the result would be. More lashings drove him on as the viaduct drew nearer, the final stretch into the city awaiting the convoy. Behind the first wagon of the convoy was the second, another Ape Commander riding atop and liberally applying the whip to the poorly Ice dragoness that dragged it along. Her face was stern but heavy, the edges of her mouth curling up with each strike of the whip as her turquoise eyes squinted. The snow-white membrane of her wings looked like ripped sheets from innumerable whiplashes, her equally turquoise scales smeared with dried dust from the labor of the day. The wagon she pulled contained not Spirit Gems, however, but those responsible for plucking them from the ground. The back of the wagon was enclosed in a sturdy iron cage, inside of which were a dozen or so moles crammed tightly together like cargo. Most of them were former soldiers, still wearing their tattered and dirty uniforms from before the fall of Warfang.

The Apes employed forced labor as a form of punishment for the mole soldiers who had been captured after resisting them while the others were mole peasants who had 'volunteered' as was claimed by the Apes to take part in labor duties. In reality, they were usually press ganged into service, usually taken at random from the streets if it was decided additional labor was needed. In a sense, they were more fortunate as they could normally return to their families at the end of the day but the captive mole-at-arms remained prisoners indefinitely, unless they died or were lucky enough to escape. The latter had become increasingly unlikely in recent times after a number of convoys had been attacked and their prisoners set free, pushing the Apes to guard their convoys more heavily. There had been no successful attacks on the slave convoys for weeks now, the Legion of Liberation seemingly not considering it worth the risk.

The first two wagons of the convoy set the stage for the rest, the third one being another wagonload of Spirit Gems and the one behind that another load of mole slaves. This order continued along the entire length of dozens of wagons as the first one finally reached the start of the western viaduct, the chocolate Earth dragon's weary feet stepping onto the great causeway as another lash ripped across his back. His vision became hazy as he looked across the length of the viaduct, praying under his breath that he could hold out along enough to reach the other side; survive another day of torment. He lifted his head, ignoring the abuse of his driver, seeing the fearful black Tower of Gaul dominating the Warfang skyline like a huge tombstone with the frightful green light rising from its peak like an unholy specter. If indeed it was a tombstone, it was surely one dedicated to the death of all hope for those now trapped in the city walls.

As the slave train made the march along the viaduct, a single Dreadwing appeared on the southwestern horizon, flying in from the sea in the direction of Warfang. Its silhouette was barely visible to the naked eye, but in only moments it crossed over the shoreline and sped towards Warfang, aiming for one icon specifically; Castle Hill. The bat monster and its rider crossed the sky over the wagon train as the sound of an alarm bell began to ring across the city in a slow, deliberate series of deep, audible bongs. The sound came from atop the roof of Castle Hill after the rider had been seen by the spotters on the approach. The bell rang for a few seconds more before it fell silent, the Dreadwing and rider adjusting their course to approach Castle Hill straight on, aiming for the extended balcony that pointed towards the western part of the city.

While from a distance the structure of the castle remained unchanged, Castle Hill had been given a makeover to appease its new owners, with the mole and dragon citizens forcefully doing so under threat of death. The balcony floor of blue and white tiles that once showcased the immaculate image of a dragon had been ripped up and replaced by new ones, these tiles forming the rather vain and terrifying image of the new flags that hung from the gatehouse and indeed all over the city, only with far greater detail. The face of Gaul was now formed into a mosaic on the floor, immaculately designed in the likeness of him with skill only possible by the stonemasons of Warfang, even if only under threat with their lives.

The tiles that made up the background of the image and formed the paths around the Castle remained white but lacked any other superfluous detail, only the image of Gaul had received special attention. His long, baboon face was made up of numerous tiny square tiles that were color coated to best match the Ape King's real appearance, including the scars across his face, his single glowing green eye, as well as the vicious teeth of his distinctive underbite. Further up the details of his horned helmet were depicted in dark purple tiles, stretching out wide across the entire façade. It was a marvelous, if depressing work of art.

Alas, it was not the end of the redecorated exterior of Castle Hill. The grand, bronze doors that led into the castle which once depicted the golden image of a dragon alongside a pair of spear toting mole-at-arms had been replaced by a far graver image. The original bronze doors had been taken away and melted down, replaced by a new pair with what could only be described as am image straight from hell. Filling the breadth of both doors was an engraved image of Malefor; the Dark Master. Much of the center of the image was a large depiction of the murderous dragon's face, depicted in flight as though he were attacking those who dared approach the door. The engraving across the doors resembled a large brass plate, the likeness of Malefor himself painted in black, resembling a dark silhouette rather than an intricate portrait.

The backdrop of the image was a storm of rising flames as his tail twisted through the air as the evil dragon swept over a sea of devastation. His mouth was open with purple-colored flames burning behind his bared fangs, his eyes a pupil less, fiery orange and his claws were reaching out frightfully towards whomever had earned his wrath. His gargantuan wings filled most of the edge of both sides of the image, running down the outside edge of the doors in a curve like ornate lining, only the very corners of the doors left untouched by the great wings. It was as frightening an image as had ever been displayed in the history of Warfang, matched only by its intentional insolence to the history and citizens of the city. The engraving was not just a general representation of reverence by the Apes to Malefor and his destructive power, but a depiction of the night the city had been raised to the ground by him centuries ago. It was a monument built by the citizens of Warfang to the destruction of their own ancestors; a morbid and degrading celebration of 'The Night of Burning Tears.'

The lone Dreadwing and rider swept into a glide for the last short distance to the balcony, the bat monster letting out a shrill cry as it leaned back and touched down heavily onto the balcony, the short, armored rider releasing his hands from the saddle and reaching behind his back, grasping a leather, tube like case he had slung behind him. He promptly stood up and leapt off the creature's back, his dark purple sabatons clanking against the floor as he marched stiffly towards the twin doors. Moments later, there was an audible, metallic clack from inside the doors as they were unlocked. The frightful, static image of the Dark Master suddenly gained life as the double doors began to open inwards, parting the image in two as they opened to the inside of the castle. The Dreadwing rider came to a stop as he watched the doors opening, a hulking figure with two smaller ones beside appearing as the doors parted.

The rider stiffened his pose as the green eye of Gaul, the Ape King, flashed alongside the green crystal atop his staff, almost a miniature version of that which glowed above the city. To his left and right were two armed Ape Lieutenants, his bodyguards, both carrying tall poleaxes and wearing their distinctive helms with a single spike atop of them as they stepped out with him. The lone Ape rider lifted off his helmet slowly as he began walking towards the monarch. Gaul and his bodyguards came to a halt just outside the door as the rider approached them, the comparatively small Ape soldier paused a short distance from them, holding his helmet down by his side as he performed a ceremonial bow. Gaul waved his hand for him to rise again, the Ape soldier saying with a hint of uneasiness,

"Your majesty, I have with me the latest reports from our commanders in the field. I was instructed to deliver them to you at all speed."

Gaul nodded impatiently, having heard the same sentence countless time by now, "Give me the brief," he said gruffly.

By 'brief' Gaul meant for the lowly soldier to summaries the contents of the reports in short points, a practice he had enacted so that he may understand the general overview of reports before reading them over in full detail. The Ape soldier tucked his helmet under his arm and slipped the case from off his back, unfastening the strap that kept the lid closed on one end. He pulled out a rolled parchment that was several pages thick, unfurling it and reading the points that were written on the first page;

"My King," he began, "To begin, General Elmwand reports increased activity by the Atlawa rebels in Tall Plains. He has reported heavy losses in increased ambushes by the rebels and believes they may be preparing for major counterattacks. He requests that additional reinforcements be sent post haste.

"Second, the Chief Quartermaster of the Munitions Forge reports that Manweersmall productivity in gem mining and weapon production has been quadrupled in the last month. However, he requests more shipping be made available to speed up delivery of both commodities. He also requests more coal be sent to fuel the island's locomotives, sire. His full report is listed."

Gaul nodded disinterestedly, "Go on."

The messenger gulped nervously as he scanned his eyes further down the summary.

"Moving on, sire, General Ironshiver reports our reconnaissance flights into the Avalarian mountains have showed little activity during the day. He believes the rebels are being warned in advance by the farmers and villagers of that region of our movements and requests your council of what measures he may take."

Gaul suddenly let out a furious growl, "Does that idiot need my advice before he takes any action of his own?!" he snapped.

The messenger was caught off guard as he began to quake in his sabatons. "I-I don't know, your highness…"

"Who asked you?" the Ape King snarled, "Get on with it!"

The messenger Ape began sweating beneath his fur as his mind began to contemplate the age-old discussion of the folly of killing the bearer of bad news. He wondered if bringing it up would increase or decrease his chances of survival with the King.

"Er, last main point, sire," he said, choosing to keep silent on the issue, "General Theron has provided a detailed proposal of increasing the garrison on Dante's Freezer. He believes having a limited presence will only invite incursion by the rebels. He also reports the Skavenger pirates have been more active in his region of late. He requests permission to come to Warfang to discuss it with you, personally."

The messenger then anxiously rolled up the parchments, bracing them against his chest as he awaited his King to beckon him to hand them over. Gaul seemed to be lost in thought for a moment as he stared into the sky behind the messenger, making the lowly soldier fear the King was considering his fate. It hadn't been all bad news he had delivered, but all the Apes knew how little it took for Gaul to elicit a lethal response to anything that displeased him. The Ape monarch let out a gruff sigh that sounded more like a grunt as he held out his right hand for the messenger to approach. Holding his breath, the messenger stepped forward with the scrolls in his hand, stopping just before Gaul and taking a bow as he delicately held out the scrolls for him to take.

Gaul grasped them in his hand, the messenger keeping his head bowed as he carefully stepped back to where he began, standing upright and waiting and, more than anything, hoping for a formal dismissal. Gaul handed his staff off to the bodyguard on his left-hand side as he then unrolled the scrolls and began perusing them himself, the messenger Ape waiting silently as he barely controlled the quivering in his body while the King's eyes scanned down the points he had said out loud to him. The two bodyguards quickly flashed a devious look to each other before turning their eyes back to the messenger, seemingly expectant and hopeful that the worst may come to him, presumably because it would fall to them for disposing of him for displeasing the King.

Gaul impatiently rolled the scrolls up and tucked them under his arm as he let out a flustered sigh and grasped his staff back from his bodyguard, a heavy draught of air blowing from his nostrils as he turned back to the Ape messenger standing before him. His face was twisted with anger, a dark scowl appearing on his forehead as the messenger's heart dropped into his sabatons, the two bodyguards grinning with vile glee.

"In spite of all we have accomplished, we are still facing trying times," Gaul announced harshly, "There is much that troubles my mind, yet you add more to it by bringing me this less than favorable news?"

The messenger Ape felt his helmet beginning to shake under his arm as the shadow of the Ape King draped over him and blocked any view of the light behind him. The two bodyguards lowered their poleaxe into both hands expectantly as they and the King advanced menacingly on the lowly Ape soldier.

"My King, I beseech thee," he begged in a brittle voice, "I'm just a messenger! I only report what is told to me! I am not responsible for what that may be!"

Gaul came to a halt as did his bodyguards, the Ape King holding out his hands back towards them, the two guards suddenly looking disappointed as they took their weapons back into their formal stance, not being given a chance to use them. A moment of relief swept over the Ape messenger as it seemed his neck had been spared the poleaxe, but it evaporated a mere moment later when the King lifted his staff and slammed the base of it onto the hard tiles; once, twice, thrice, making the lowly messenger's heart shatter into more pieces each time. From behind the King, another guard came rushing over, summoned by the three strikes of the staff. Without looking, Gaul held his right hand out as the third guard handed to him a bulky crossbow which he grasped firmly in his palm. The frightened messenger's fur was by now damp with sweat as he tried for the final time to save his life;

"Your majesty, I am but a messenger!"

"Indeed," Gaul replied dully as he lifted the crossbow in one hand and aimed it in his direction, the messenger gasping his final breath as his quaking body became as steady as a rock, resigned to his fate as he closed his eyes, bracing for the curtain to fall. There was a gut-wrenching scream as the bolt shot forward, the helmet tucked beneath the messenger's arm dropped to the ground, clanging loudly as it rolled off to the side as Gaul held the crossbow up before passing it off to the third guard as he let out a satisfied sigh.

"But we need every soldier we have right now, no matter how low they may be," he said as the lowly messenger opened his eyes and realized to his shock that he was still in the land of the living. He spun around in desperate terror as he saw where the crossbow bolt had landed; straight between the eyes of his Dreadwing, now sprawled out across the balcony in a lifeless heap, the source of the terrible death scream. His mouth hung open in shock as he looked back as the Ape King casually took the scrolls out from under his arm and held them with seeming indifference in his swaying hand.

"You may leave now," Gaul said finally, "Return to your duties at once!" he added sternly as he and his bodyguards turned their backs, walking back towards the castle as the Ape messenger scrambled to pick up his helmet and stand to attention as the Ape King left.

"Y-Yes, your majesty! Thank you, your majesty!" he blurted out in a voice that was half fearful and half thankful, bowing like his back was a spring as he felt around his forehead just to be sure that he had not been shot. The Ape King and his entourage passed back through the great doorway as the engraved doors closed slowly but steadily behind them, the image of Malefor reforming in all its terrifying glory as the hapless messenger was left standing alone on the balcony, the dead Dreadwing laying behind him.

Down below at the western wall of the city, the slave caravan now stretched across the viaduct as it approached the gatehouse. The chocolate brown Earth dragon pulling the lead wagon strained under the increasingly harsh lashes of the whip, the approaching gates of the city appearing to him like the mouth of a great beast ready to devour him and all the other poor wretches that made up the caravan, for they were considered less important than the gems they hauled. There were orders barked from atop of the gatehouse, followed by the grinding sound of heavy chains from within the structure, the heavy iron gates beginning to rise slowly as the caravan approached. From atop his post, the Ape Commander in charge of the gatehouse smirked as he watched the lumbering brown dragon struggling to reach the opening in front of him, the Ape sitting behind him keeping up a steady pace with the whip as he forced him onward.

The Commander took a step nearer and placed his hands on the edge of the battlements, gazing across the long line of wagons slowly coming into the city, loaded with excavated gems and shamed mole prisoners. A cold joy filled his heart at the sight of the once mighty dragons and their mole lackeys being reduced to such a lowly status; pack mules and slave laborers. Even after three years of occupation, the fact never seized to amaze him of what they, the Apes, had accomplished in such a short time! The great Dragon City had been reduced to a puppet state, all those within it living under the law of King Gaul as those who continued to defy them retreated to the far fringes of the realm, living off only what they could find or steal from them as the Apes now lived like kings in their own right. Their vaunted Guardians were but a memory, and their supposed savior the Purple Dragon of Legend was as well.

He was a veteran of the failed siege fifteen years ago, when they had attacked the city walls again and again to no avail, decimating their numbers and forcing them back into their mountain stronghold, humiliated and beaten. Now they were in control, never having had to breach Warfang's famous walls in the first place, but tunneling right beneath them and striking them from within their own homes and fighting them in the light of their own firesides. It had been a hard battle, in which the Dragons and Moles had mustered forces from across the realms in desperate counterattacks to retake the city, all to no avail. The walls that had protected them had first trapped them, and then they had kept them out when they had lost the city to the Apes. Never had there been a more glorious time for them, and more glory was to come when at last the King's plan to resurrect their master was complete as it surely would. He let out deep, guttural chuckle as he turned to his subordinates standing near him.

"Take a good look at it, boys," he said as he gestured to the line of wagons rolling by under them, "Never in our lifetimes have we enjoyed such prosperous times," he continued as he turned and walked across to the other side of the gatehouse, gazing across at the city and the emerging line of caravans streaming into it. He and the others gazed upwards at the dauting black shape of the Tower of Gaul rising from out of the city, the pulsating green crystal high in the air amid the swirling black clouds. The other Ape soldiers atop the gatehouse sneered and laughed at the caravan as it began to stream out the other side and into the city, cheering for their comrades riding in the convoy below as they waved and reveled in the humiliation of their enemies.

"Not so mighty now, eh?" one of the soldiers jeered as he spat on one of the prison carriages loaded with slaves as it rolled by along the viaduct. This act prompted the other Ape soldiers stationed in the gatehouse to join in, hurling insults and spitting on the caravan as it rolled on through, the Ape Commander chuckling darkly as the powerless Dragons and Moles could do nothing to protect themselves as they marched on painfully into the city. The rumble of thunder above seemed to join in with their heckling as the Ape Commander turned his head up towards Castle Hill where the king was currently staying. He raised his bulky hammer into the air, holding it up in salute as the other Ape soldiers saw the move and promptly joined in, drawing their weapons and raising them in the same manner.

"Our success we owe to the king and his grand vision! May he deliver us from victory to victory, until there are none left that stand in our way! Long live the king! Long Live the King!" he bellowed. His praise for the monarch reverberated through the gatehouse and to the Apes in the convoy, who began to sing the chant that further deepened the sorrow of every slave in the caravan and every citizen in earshot.

"Long live the king!"

"Long live the king!"

"Long live the king!"

End of Chapter 4

Next Chapter: Plans and Predicament

Here we are after so long. I tried to post this chapter last week but was having problems that were affecting many users and leaving them unable to post chapters, but now seems to be working for me. Should this happen again, you can still read my latest chapters on my Deviant Art page, the information which is posted in my updated profile on FF.

I wish it hadn't been so long but now I am ready to get back to regular monthly uploads. Well, nearly. As a treat I've decided that chapter five will release early as a thank you for those who have been waiting for so long. This means that there will not be a chapter uploaded in April since Chapter 5 was originally supposed to be released then, but from May onwards I will return to the one chapter every month format, hopefully without interruption.

I hope that by this time next year, I will be posting up the last chapters of Book II and be working on Book III which will be the final part. Feedback and advice is always welcome. Thank you for reading!