Chapter 9: Portents

On a frigid and dark dawn, Cosmos paced restlessly in his cave. He was unable to stop ruminating on nonsense and other unimportant things. His mind was brilliant and always on the move, though rarely the playground for pointless musings.

Clouds had gathered higher than normal and swamped the high peaks, blocking the imminent sunrise. At exactly five hundred hours a rustic blur swooped out of the gloom and landed in the mouth of the cave. It was Titan, leader of the Peace Keepers.

"Cosmos! You're home, finally," Titan exclaimed, shaking snow off his wings. "Good lord, where have you been? We were starting to get…"

Titan stopped, raising his brows. He hadn't even been acknowledged.

Cosmos was circling his cauldron, muttering vacantly. His cave was entirely, uncharacteristically, out of order. The stone bookshelves carved into the cave walls were disheveled. Parchment was scattered all over, with many pieces blank or barely written on like Cosmos had been taking notes and forgotten about them. The top of the cave was hollowed into a dome; multiple gems and rare crystals Cosmos used for alchemy hovered there, dull from lack of regulation. The unnatural feeling of it all made the cave feel empty and dark.

Titan spat a burst of purple flames at the stone firebox. The sudden wave of heat drew Cosmos' attention. He stopped, looked at the fireplace, and then finally noticed he had company.

"Oh my, thank you! I thought the blasted thing had come on by itself again!" Cosmos trilled. He held his arms out, dragging his tail along the ground as he approached Titan. "It's been awhile, old friend! You promised me you'd visit more often."

"I know. It's been too busy, haven't you realized?" Titan remarked suspiciously. "You do not seem well, Cosmos. When's the last time you got proper rest?"

"Ah, I don't know. I haven't really noticed what I've been up to for the past day. I've forgotten! What's been happening?"

"Too much," Titan said gruffly, clenching his fists. "We've got another problem. It's been found out that the Southern Faun Kingdom is planning an imminent attack on the Dragon Lands. We need might and magic more than ever. Their commander is an old bane to dragonkind."

"Who's that?"

"His name is Colidon…he's fairly known within the Peacekeepers," Titan snarled with smoke rising from his nostrils. "He's a defector who was thought to have been long dead, but it looks as though fate wasn't kind to us. We cannot waste what time we have left. We've got to prepare for the worst."

Cosmos was staring at the ground either dazed or in thought.

"I know you've been busy looking for the dragonflies, but can you come up with a protection plan? It can be rough and we smooth out the edges as we go. The focus will mainly be on Town Hall, but all of Town Square needs to be secured."

Cosmos did not react. He had simply frozen and didn't even appear to be breathing.

Smoke billowed from Titan's jaws as he snapped, "COSMOS! Are you listening?! I need you to listen. The children are relying on us!"

"I can't…think of anything," Cosmos muttered.

"What?!"

"Not now, at least."

"ALRIGHT—Cosmos, take a break. Now," Titan ordered, swiftly turning to leave. He knocked a clay vase with his tail. "Blast! I'll be rounding up the Magic Crafters in the meanwhile, and we'll work something out until you can join us."

"Oh, alright. You can smash that old thing, I don't care."

"Get. Some. Rest," Titan repeated sternly, setting the vase back. "I mean it. And we have to meet Nestor and Rosita later in the day, recall? Don't let it slip your mind."

He leapt out of the cave, vanishing in a few strong wing flaps. Cosmos wandered over to gaze out at the mountains. He already felt sharper, more alert. Titan was good at quickly refocusing the minds of others.

It had worked—and Cosmos had an idea.

Hmm...no.

I don't think this is too extreme. I hate that my mind jumped to something so...desperate. Maybe it's because of my old feelings and sorrows. Likely, it's what's for the best.

If we're to be defending ourselves from a dragon of might and his entire army, then…oh, my ancestors. I still really have no idea what to expect. What if he's more adept at magic than myself?

No, no. Focus.

Only I can do this. I need to hide my tact and play along. I will do all I can.

I hate lying to my fellow dragons, but I won't let anyone else feel the pain of losing a child!

The Artisans—Town Square

The sun had only been up for thirty minutes and things were already hectic. From the center of town Titan relayed orders to Peace Keepers and Magic Crafters alike, sending them on air or foot as they hastened to reinforce the infrastructure. He had a few of his men posted up at both ends of the portal and sentries flying around the perimeter of Town Square. He and Nestor had quickly come up with a generalized plan of defense and so far, things seemed to be moving along well.

"Titan?"

A small robed figure was on approach, nearly getting jostled by a group of oblivious dragons passing by in a rush.

"Careful there, Bianca," Titan said, facing her. "What's our report?"

"Um, good. Town Hall's fortification is about…sixty-five percent complete. We just got done heightening the wall and fitting the mortars in place..."

Every side of Town Hall had dragons fastened to the walls like mountain climbers. These were mainly Magic Crafters, who delicately tempered every brick with a careful combination of tools and magic. On top of Town Hall a group of Peace Keepers were working on a watchtower that was almost fully erected.

"Well! Good," Titan said, pleased. "Everyone's fire is burning brightly. We're making the best progress. Very well done."

Bianca twiddled her wand in hand. She felt as though she'd been one step behind the rest for the whole morning even though objectively she hadn't been. "I'm just wondering…"

"Yes?"

"Isn't…this all maybe a bit, uh…too much?"

Titan shook his head gravely. "It could never be enough. Not with the time we have."

They left the area to escape the noise, continuing their conversation on the next street. "I don't…mean to be ignorant. But is one dragon really so dangerous?" Bianca asked. "We are doing most of this specifically to keep him away, right?"

"Yes. But his intelligence has proven to be lethal," Titan growled. "So has his disloyalty…he defected during the war between the western and eastern dragons over a hundred years ago. That decision of his cost us the lives of many on our side."

"Wait, over a hundred years?! He didn't even look that old! But I don't really know how dragons age either, so..."

"You know, it can sometimes be a mystery to us as well," Titan said lightly. "It seems like some dragons age a lot more gracefully than others. He's one of them, which is unfortunate…I'd been hearing stories about him when I was just a child."

He sighed. "I thought Nestor had been mistaken, when he mentioned Colidon's name…all of our parents had passed down the thought that the traitor had withered away in some foreign country, that he was an example of the prodigious going bad. But no. And who knows how powerful he's gotten? What has he been doing all this time? What has he been learning? I could not sleep last night with all the questions on my mind.

"And he's with our only current and active enemy, the Southern Fauns. You see we never officially declared peace with them. They simply retreated after so many casualties on their side. It looks like this war is no longer on the backburner."

"Oh, geez…but what did he defect for?"

"The biggest question of them all. Bianca…it takes something momentous for a dragon to betray his or her own kind. I don't fear the dragon himself, but I fear his drive. The fact that he has been with no less than two of our enemies means he seeks something he cannot find among his own kind. No one can fathom what that could be. And the Southern Fauns know little about mercy. They've had a grudge on us for many generations. And so you see, if we were unprepared, they would not hesitate to come in and slaughter all of our children," Titan said, making her gasp and put a hand to her mouth. He bared his teeth. "…apparently their Queen is dead, but I don't believe that. It's either a trick or misdirection. Because there are so many uncertainties, we need to be ready to expect the worst from our enemies."

They reached the fountain and there Titan faced her solemnly. "So do you now understand, Bianca? As for your role of being Cosmos' student, you need to be prepared to take his place."

She stumbled back into the fountain in surprise, nearly falling into the water. "Me? But I…"

"He's not well and has overworked himself. It isn't his fault," Titan said, scanning the heavens. "The Festival is tomorrow and if we come under attack, he may prove to be unreliable."

"What?! There's no way! I can't do everything he does! I can't even do a twelfth of it!"

"You can still do something. Remember, you have the best teacher in the realm, if not the entire continent," he told her patiently. "Remember what I mentioned about that traitor having a drive? Some of us have one, some of us have many. But the arrival of our children brought the greatest one that matters the most, and that is to protect them at all costs. Every single one of us needs to contribute to this effort. If not…then what we do would never have a chance at being enough."

He drew his pocket watch and flipped it open. "There is no other option. We have to believe our backs are to the wall and defend the newest generation with our lives."

"He said that exact thing," Bianca muttered. "Something similar."

"Hmpth…I'm not surprised," Titan snarled, gripping his watch tighter. "That's the mantra by which a Peace Keeper is trained. That traitor knows what he's about to get into yet according to Nestor, appeared far too confident. It makes me sick—"

In his rage Titan accidentally crushed his pocket watch to pieces. He sighed. "Another one. Lindar is going to let me hear it this time."

Bianca levitated the broken watch from him and into the nearest trash can. She looked down at her hands in shame. "…okay. Yeah. I can't believe I even had to question it. I owe it to them, anyway. I should, um…"

She didn't know what to say. Titan looked at her earnestly. "Yes?" he asked frankly, but gently.

"I should guard them...with my life. They don't deserve anything less."

"Well then, wonderful."

Titan held his hand out and she took it. His hand was far bigger and rougher, but he squeezed hers with tenderness.

"I've got your word. Thank you," Titan said. "You are not worthless, Bianca. Just remember to stay sharp and steady. We need you."

"I'm sorry," she said thickly. "I was stupid for asking, I…how could I even try to run away after what I did? To them, and all of you, the parents? I can't believe that."

"Well, now, have you seen what this means for you? Obviously you're not a mother, but your guilt and wanting to redeem yourself can be apart of your drive. Let them be so," Titan said. "You've already been forgiven. It's up to you, now, to break off those chains binding you to the past. Can you do that?"

"Yes. I will. Yes."

He let go of her hand. Bianca couldn't remember what she said to him, something about leaving—he had barely raised his hand in goodbye before she teleported away.

She reappeared in an old wine cellar underneath the town. Cosmos had shown her the place when they were practicing liquid levitation spells. It was so far underground that sounds were unable to penetrate the bedrock. Bianca collapsed to the dirt floor and was able to cry as loud as she wanted.

The Artisans—Stone Hill

The dragonesses were finally there. They arrived right before noon, flying with the sun at their backs as they appeared over the horizon.

Most dragons in the clan, whether male or female, had a mate. Celibacy didn't affect attendance and after another twelve years both sides of the clan had reunited again.

Couples spotted each other instantly by instinct, by scent, or by some other innate sense. Some of the childless males took off to meet their mate in the air; fathers with children struggled to keep their little ones from slipping away in excitement, which became a little harder when the mothers started to come in for a landing. A lot of squalling came from the hatchlings as they finally met their dams. For the first time entire families were united, and there wasn't another place in the world with more love in it.

A group of six watched from afar. Each of them had a problem weighing on their hearts.

Spyro was melancholic and his chest ached. He felt confused most of all, like he couldn't really understand or relate to what he was seeing.

Sparx was pensive, feeling more by his instincts. The hatchlings should have had their dragonfly partners by now, and his dread made him wonder how long the good times would last.

Hunter was introspective. He unexpectedly found himself reflecting on his and Bianca's future—they did want to get married, after all. Children? They weren't sure yet. His insecurities made him anxious about the coming future, pestering him on if he would always be dependable.

Elora was aloof and wore a plain expression. There was the tiniest flame of jealousy deep within her. She felt as though she had the imposter syndrome and secretly wanted to look away.

Bianca was struggling not to tear up again, which was frustrating since she thought she'd cried herself out. Yet out of all of her friends, she felt the strongest and most resolute from what she was witnessing.

Cynder was present as well, perching on the spire underneath the magic cloud the others were standing on. She wasn't sure if she'd even been noticed, but was full of amazement, shame, and joy. Her feelings were tainted by bitter jealously. She wanted to fly out and join the other dragons, maybe ask one of the childless parents if they wanted to adopt her…but she also felt like she didn't belong, and that she did not deserve what she wanted.

And so they all sat and watched, waiting for the end of things to come.

After some time had passed individual family units began to divvy their time. Some parents went off to spend time with their children whether on land or in the skies. Some of the less active dragons wandered further out in the quieter part of the hills to settle down for a midday nap. It had been a long, nearly non-stop flight for the dragonesses.

Spyro was by himself, feeling invisible as he wandered through the knolls. He enjoyed piecing together family units.

He saw Argus and his goldenrod-colored mate, Joni, with their two children Vanessa and John. They were sitting in the grass playing a game of hot potato with a ruby.

He saw Magnus with his tiny but fiery mate Yuko, and their son Mingus. The father was dashing through the hills carrying the other two on his back, laughing that bold laugh of his.

He saw Bubba flying overhead with his forest colored mate, Rory. Their children were nestled close to their parent's backs— Reez with her father, and the two boys Craig and Lloyd with their mother.

He saw Cedric, with his mate Ferris and their son James. The parents sat, tails wrapped together, as their son proudly showed off his fire breathing.

He saw Cleetus and his mate Harrier with their son, RyanLee. All of them appeared to have fallen asleep where they'd met up, completely unbothered by all the noise.

He saw Copano, content as he watched his alabaster mate Lucinda fly overhead in displays with their exceptional twins, Yin and Yang.

He saw a lot of love and warmth. It was beginning to physically batter him while on the inside, he felt cold and dull.

He ended up wandering to Nestor's Hill and went in without knocking, stopping at the mouth of the living room.

Nestor was in front of the fire with his mate. The both of them had their heads together and a wing around the other. She was a dark periwinkle with the scales on her arms and legs gradually turning to the color of sunflower. Her tail was wrapping a thick leather apron tight to her waist.

They were talking lowly about something. Nestor's voice was heavy, unhappy, and his head was bowed almost in defeat.

The dragoness had a sense that they'd been joined. She glanced over her shoulder, and then nudged her mate. Nestor glanced over his shoulder. Spyro was sitting nearby with his head lowered in his paws.

"Oh! Spyro," Nestor coughed, cleared his throat, and added, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. But I'd like for you to meet Rosita."

Rosita gracefully stood and came over. Spyro saw how slender and softer her appearance was compared to that of her husband's, how light she was on her feet. She had a pale shape encircling her eyes, like she often wore a mask.

"Hi, Spyro," she began gently. "How are you?"

"Hi…I'm fine. Ma'am," Spyro mumbled. It was all he could say and he looked at the floor, shy. Rosita introduced herself as the leader of the Artisans, as well as the overall leader of the dragonesses. She had the very same positions as her husband.

"Why are the dudes and the dudettes separate?" Spyro asked, remembering his conversation with Cynder on the matter.

Rosita quickly glanced at Nestor, who looked off rubbing his snout. She looked back at Spyro with a gracious smile.

"…it's tradition," Nestor explained.

"It does have something to do with how…dragons affect the environment," Rosita explained further. "When they love each other very much. Think of us being separate as being a necessary precaution."

"Whuh? I don't get it," Spyro complained. "How does everyone being together affect the environment?"

"Well, after so long, nature and magic kinda go haywire."

"It's…not fully…understood. A Magic Crafter could explain it better," Nestor muttered. "But yes, there is a legitimate reason for us being apart, Spyro."

"Oh, okay, I guess. I'll just ask Cosmos later," Spyro said with a shrug. "When I began thinking about it more, it started to seem weird. I mean, all of the hatchlings are together."

"That's a little different," Rosita said, to which Nestor quickly added, "Ah—very different."

Nestor seemed to be trying hard not to smile. Spyro had no idea what they were acting funny about.

"So…uh…what do you do?" he asked Rosita.

"I'm a gemsmith. I make or augment things with all different kinds of treasure," she answered, then her smile grew. "I'm glad you asked…want to know why? I've got something just for you."

He sat up, interested. "Oooh, really? Thanks! What is it?"

"It's been a little hard for you learning how to fly, right?"

"Yeah…ooh, ooh, is it a plane!?"

Nestor took a pair of somethings off his woodcutting table. As he got closer with them they glinted gold in the firelight. To Spyro they looked like scraps of metal in the vague shape of dragon wings and both were encrusted with a four-pointed ruby.

"You put them on," Rosita explained. "They're wing braces."

Stunned, Spyro sat upright and held his wings out while she carefully put them on. They fit him perfectly. They were light and didn't seem like anything he could do strength training with. He could barely tell he had them on.

Nestor was smiling expectantly. "Let's go find a good spot to practice."