Hello and welcome to another chapter of My Days of You! It's been a while, hasn't it? Recently, I've been caught up with so much personal stuff that I haven't been in the mood for writing. Lately, I've been not in the mood or burnt out from the day I've had. I've been trying to write the second chapter for Eternal Darkness (my Marvel/Spyro crossover that hasn't been updated in ages) but, as usual, the words weren't exactly coming to me. So I'm back with this story!
So, to recap, Spyro and Cynder are attending the Warfang Academy and Spyro was on the verge of falling asleep in class. After that class, Cynder heads off to her wind element class and meets Aella. Aella invites her and Spyro to the carnival with her friends, Barak and Visham. The group spends some time at the carnival, with Spyro and Cynder going on their own for a bit, until a group of fire dragons torment them. Spyro intervenes, only to get a hot dog thrown in his face. It's only until Visham uses his poison element to drive them away.
With both Spyro and Cynder gaining new friends, what else can happen in the city of Warfang? Let's find out! Enjoy!
(-)
(Chapter 7: I Fall Apart)
Spyro's first thought when he opened his eyes was… how did he end up like this?
One moment he was in his bedroom in the Temple, with Cynder sleeping next to him and Sparx snoring away on the windowsill. The next minute, he found himself in a barren wasteland, the ground dry and cracked around him with any evidence of life all but eradicated.
And he was holding the world on his shoulders.
That wasn't a type of metaphor or anything; Spyro was literally holding the entire world on his shoulders. It wasn't like he was holding a globe or a large sphere; he was keeping the world together. He was keeping the heavens and the sky from colliding with the ground below. At this moment of time, Spyro was the only living thing keeping everything and everyone falling into a cataclysmic disaster.
It was the purple dragon's duties after all. As a legendary figure in dragon history, it was important that Spyro protected the world and let the rest of his kind thrive in a new age of peace. It's why he and Cynder survived after their final battle with Malefor, right? To bring back balance when the Dark Master tipped the scales into chaos?
Whatever the answer was, Spyro never expected it to be so… heavy.
Spyro was on his hind legs, using his horns and forelegs to keep the earth and sky from bumping into each other. His limbs were beyond the state of exhaustion and his paws were trembling viciously from the weight of the heavens. Spyro gritted his teeth and his eyes suddenly snapped shut from the extreme pain that he was inflicted with.
Spyro's heart thumped rapidly. He couldn't think, he wasn't sure what to do. He briefly considered using his elemental breaths to help him and ease the pain, but he shook those thoughts away and continued to bear the burden of the world. This was too important of a job to mess up right now.
But why was he alone? Where was he? Where was everyone?
More importantly, where was Cynder? Surely she should be here with him right now… right?
Then Spyro heard sinister laughter echoing through his head—a laughter that the purple dragon was all too familiar with: the laughter of the Dark Master.
Spyro… how far you've fallen.
Spyro ignored Malefor's voice in his head and continued to strain himself. Spyro hoped that the pain could block him out for a while; he wasn't in the mood to hear what Malefor had to say.
My, my, that does look particularly heavy, the voice of Malefor taunted. Shame that you have to carry this burden on your own.
Spyro simply snorted in disgust, which only made Malefor laugh even more.
The purple dragon, who has many friends and allies that have fought alongside him, has chosen to fight this battle alone. Attaboy, Spyro… that's exactly how the fate of the purple dragon should be. Only you can direct the fate of this era, an era engulfed in darkness.
"Shut up," Spyro grunted, agony and a hint of venom in his words. He was growing tired of Malefor's words.
Mark my words, Spyro. No matter what, you'll always end up… alone.
After a series of maniacal chuckling, Malefor's voice vanished into thin air. While Spyro was relieved that he didn't hear anything uttered from that force of evil again, there was one thing that the Dark Master was right about.
He was alone. The only purple dragon in existence, and the only one that can save the world. Even now, as the world is healing from what Malefor had done with unleashing the Destroyer, there was still a lot of work to be done.
Maintain peace. Make sure everyone has a home. Ensure that all remnants of Malefor's forces are eliminated from the face of the earth.
Spyro's mind was racing, his breath was starting to get faster and irregular. There was so much to do and in so little time… and he had to do it alone.
Woah, hey, look at the big important purple dragon doing his job. He sure doesn't seem like one to me, said a familiar voice. A menace to society is more like it!
It sounded like Sparx, but that only confused Spyro more. Sparx was known to be really honest at times, but Spyro knew that he'd never say something like that.
Sparx's voice then shifted into Terrador, his gruff demeanour being projected into Spyro's mind. Have we taught you nothing, Spyro? he barked viciously. All that training, only to leave us for three years! Where were you when we needed you most?
Spyro wanted to protest. He kept telling himself that this wasn't right and none of this was real, but the thoughts of what Sparx and Terrador said managed to crawl into his head. Spyro wasn't sure if they were telling the truth, or how their thoughts about him had somehow manifested into his head. It sure wasn't helping him to keep the skies above his head; it made him more motivated to just let go.
The voice of the Earth Guardian soon shifted into another voice, a voice that Spyro was hoping not to hear at this moment.
Hello, purple boy…
As soon as he heard the voice of his girlfriend, Spyro could feel himself losing his grip on the heavens above. Normally he loved to hear the sound of Cynder's voice, but he was scared of what she had to say. He almost didn't want to listen, but he was left with no choice. Both the sky and the ground started to shake violently until Spyro regained his concentration and re-adjusted himself so that the world would calm itself down.
"Cynder?" Spyro croaked.
Tell me something, Spyro… what would've happened if you never existed?
"I…" Spyro didn't know what to say.
I would be normal, that's what, Cynder muttered. Without you or any purple dragon, this world might be in a better place. Can't you see, my love? You have failed everyone: the Guardians, Sparx… and especially me. You are a failure.
Even though Spyro knew that Cynder wouldn't say such a thing, it still hurt him nonetheless. To hear someone that he loved tell him that his life was such a failure and everything he'd ever done was meaningless. It nearly brought tears to the purple dragon's eyes.
Spyro shook his head rapidly, trying to block Cynder's words out. No more, Spyro kept repeating. He didn't want to hear this anymore, he just wanted to wake up. Why wasn't he waking up?
"Open your eyes, young dragon…"
Immediately Spyro's thoughts halted. His heart almost stopped at the sound of another familiar voice. Many emotions raced through his mind: fear, tension, excitement, and relief, among others. But it couldn't be…? Surely, it wasn't?
Spyro slowly opened his eyes and his suspicions were confirmed. Standing in front of him, sitting on his haunches, was someone that Spyro had not seen in a very long time. Someone that the purple dragon thought had long since joined the ancestors during the war.
"Wh—?" Spyro sputtered, almost lost for words. "Ignitus?"
The Fire Guardian smiled. "Hello, Spyro… it's good to see you again."
Spyro wanted to cry, he wanted to race towards Ignitus and embrace him tightly but his current situation made it difficult to do those things. He still couldn't believe his eyes; Ignitus was alive, he survived after all this time!
"It's good to see you too, Ignitus!" Spyro exclaimed happily. "But I don't understand, I thought… we all thought you died in the Belt of Fire. How can you be here now?"
Ignitus chuckled in amusement. "Oh… I'm not actually here, Spyro."
Spyro's face fell. "Wait… what?"
"You see, Spyro, you are right. I did perish in the Belt of Fire that day," Ignitus muttered. His warm, comforting smile was still plastered on his face, but it felt more sinister. "Of course, you already knew that since you made no attempt to save me."
Again, Spyro was lost for words. Why was Ignitus saying this to him? There were no tears on the Fire Guardian's face, no hint of anger anywhere. He was acting like this was something completely normal.
"B-But… I had no choice," Spyro tried to explain. "You gave your life so that Cynder and I could go through the Belt of Fire! If I could have saved you then I would have!"
Ignitus shook his head in disappointment. "I didn't give my life, you left me behind," he growled uncharacteristically. "After all I've done for you, only for you to turn out just like him."
If Cynder's words didn't hurt him before, then what came out of Ignitus' mouth certainly felt like a brutal stab in the heart. Spyro wasn't sure how to react or how to fight back against those heartbreaking words. After all he had done for Warfang and the rest of the world, he still got compared to Malefor… and hearing it from the words of his beloved mentor was enough to make Spyro feel incompetent and unworthy.
Spyro felt himself getting weaker by the second, his forelegs on the verge of giving up as the weight of the heavens strained every single bone in his body. It was only moments before the ground and the skies collided together.
"Do you know how it felt to die in the Belt of Fire?" Ignitus then said, his teeth bared. "It's an agonising pain that no dragon should feel witness in their life. It felt like your own bare skin was literally melting from your body, leaving only your bones behind!"
As soon as he said that, the brilliant red scales on Ignitus' body started to droop down from his body. It was as if his skin had suddenly turned into liquid, melting away by an invisible heat source.
Ignitus lifted his paw and wiggled his claws around, letting his scales drip down onto the ground. He didn't look concerned or scared, he didn't seem to be reacting at all. How could something that could twist Spyro's stomach be gazed at in such a casual manner?
"Oh, look at that… it's happening again," Ignitus said coldly. "Are you going to help me this time, Spyro?"
"Wh-What?" Spyro squeaked. What in the ancestors was happening?
"You heard me," Ignitus said. "Are you going to help me this time?"
At this point, there wasn't much of Ignitus' skin left. Only a part of his face and fragments of skin and scales remained. What was left of the former Fire Guardian was his skeleton: no muscle, no organs, no nerves, just bones and burnt flesh. Spyro's eyes wouldn't shut this time, he was forced to witness Ignitus being reduced into practically nothing. It wasn't a pretty sight; Spyro wanted to throw up. He was disgusted by this utter tragedy.
Unfortunately for Spyro, things didn't change for the better. Ignitus stared at him blankly with his only surviving eyeball and he started to cackle, laughing in a similar way that Malefor did: tyrannical, malicious and with no sense of pity.
"Ah, but you can't… can you?" Ignitus murmured.
Spyro tried his best to move, hoping to get closer, but as soon as he made a single step, the skies above him rumbled faintly. The atmosphere turned into darkness, the rumbling noise becoming loud and thunderous as flashes of lightning crashed right into Spyro's eyes.
Then the rain started to fall. Cold, wet torrential rain bucketed down from the sky and soaking the barren wasteland and turning it into a mud-soaked, swampy marshland. As Spyro was holding the sky with his bare paws, he was taking most of the impact of the water. He was shivering, he felt his grip getting slippery from the rain. He needed to hold on, all of the world depended on it.
Spyro looked back at Ignitus, who was still standing firmly in front of him. The rain allowed the last piece of Ignitus' skin to fall off his face, which slid down his cheek, eyeball included, and landed softly on the muddy ground below.
Ignitus was nothing but a skeleton, his empty eye sockets staring right into the purple dragon's soul. Spyro responded with absolute silence, visually traumatised to see Ignitus' flesh melt away right in front of him.
Save me, Spyro, Ignitus' voice grumbled in Spyro's head. The skeleton didn't make any attempt to move, which made the purple dragon's scales shiver in horror.
Flames erupted from the skeleton's eye sockets as the skull formed a menacing scowl, as if he was prepared to make a move against Spyro. Not wanting to attack the skeleton of Ignitus, Spyro couldn't prepare himself to use any of his elemental abilities. He was too cold, too distracted; there was too much on his plate.
The flames grew bigger, overpowering the rain above him, and engulfed the former Fire Guardian's body. Before Spyro knew it, there was a wall of flames coming right towards him.
"SAVE ME!"
Then everything went white.
(-)
Spyro woke up in a cold sweat.
The purple dragon quickly rose from his bed, his eyes wider than they had ever been before. He made no noise; he didn't scream nor did he gasp for breath. All he could hear was his ragged breathing and his heart thumping against his chest.
His eyes darted around; he was back in his bedroom in the Dragon Temple. There was no barren wasteland, no heavens to lift and no skeleton of Ignitus, everything seemed normal. Outside his window was the city of Warfang, obscured by the cloudy atmosphere and the peaceful nighttime rainstorm. Over the past week, the weather hadn't been on anyone's side, however at this time of night, it made for a perfect companion for any sleeping citizen.
Spyro noticed he was the only one awake, half-expecting everyone else to be looking down at him and trying to wake him up from his nightmare. Sparx was tossing and turning on the nearby windowsill, drooling in his sleep as he muttered the name 'Zoe' to himself. Whoever that was, Spyro wasn't sure, but he figured it was probably a figment of Sparx's imagination.
Cynder, meanwhile, was closely lying next to him, also undisturbed by Spyro's sudden awakening. Unlike Sparx, she was lying still and seemed to be at peace. It had been ages since Cynder had experienced one of her traumatic nightmares, at least one with violent incidents, so Spyro was relieved to see that she was sleeping well. She had even started to take off her jewellery, which Cynder once told him that she always wore to remind herself not to become 'her' again, before she went to sleep. It was another sign that her sessions with Marilyn were going smoothly.
Somewhat relieved that no one had woken up yet, Spyro's irregular breathing started to ease as he rubbed his eyes and processed what had just happened to him.
Spyro wasn't prone to having nightmares—the last bad dream he had was back when he was twelve years old. It was just before he and Sparx went after Cynder, who was contemplating leaving the Temple in the swamps at the time. But that dream was just basically a recap of recent events, which was him saving Cynder from the realm of Convexity, with Malefor's sinister voice whispering in the distance. While every other dream he had after that was more of a vision, this nightmare was different.
Spyro wasn't usually the type of dragon to get scared easily, but this dream terrified him… and he wasn't sure why.
He needed some air; he needed a drink.
As silently as he could, Spyro slid himself out of bed and crept towards the door. He slowly opened the door, not wanting to wake the others, and stepped into the dimly-illuminated corridor outside.
Spyro traversed through the empty corridors of the Dragon Temple, slightly creeped out by the sheer emptiness of his surroundings. Usually there'd be some moles walking around, maintaining the Temple, but even they weren't eager to walk the corridors at night. Spyro was reminded of the old Dragon Temple in the swamps, where most of his initial training had taken place. That place was vastly empty too, the only presence being the faint memories of the past.
The purple dragon eventually came across a small fountain that was carved out of the Temple walls. The fountain looked a little worse for wear, much like most of the Temple's architecture, and the dragon sculpture had a few chips and scuff marks in certain places, but the water that poured out of its mouth was still fresh and pure.
Spyro leant over and drank the water that the fountain was providing, his dry throat becoming soothed by the cold liquid. Once he had a drink, he peered into the surface of the water and stared at his faint reflection.
It felt like staring into the future. He still wasn't used to being three years older. One minute he was twelve years old: small, curious, and he could've sworn that his head was bigger than the rest of his body. He had spent day after day travelling through a dark forest, fighting in multiple gladiatorial battles and going face-to-face with Gaul… only to be a teenager when the Grublins broke him and Cynder out of the crystal.
Now he was fifteen years old, almost sixteen. Even though he was physically older, Spyro still felt the same. But he could feel himself changing, maturing into a fully grown dragon every single day. Some days were more emotional than others, and some days he would be too tired to do anything. Even his own thoughts were evolving, especially when it came to Cynder. Those types of thoughts were ones that Spyro would immediately bury in his head again, thoughts that would have to wait until he was a bit older.
While he was changing, so was the world around him.
Since Spyro was older, there were more responsibilities that the people of Warfang, and potentially the entire world, expected him to fulfil. Rebuilding what was left, making sure that Malefor's forces were truly gone and bringing the new world to a new era were some of what Spyro was expected to do.
It was too much, but Spyro had no choice. It was his responsibility. It was his destiny.
But how was he going to do that? He was still a kid… a kid thrown into a war he wasn't sure he'd survive.
His reflection was the one to give him an answer. Spyro squinted his eyes to see that the surface of the water was shifting slightly, his reflection fading into darkness. He was no longer looking at himself in the water, the shape had the same horns and head structure but it seemed more like a shadow or an empty husk.
Spyro rubbed his eyes, wondering if his vision had gone suddenly blurry. He drew closer to the water, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Then the shape opened its eyes. They were pure white and utterly soulless, yet Spyro could sense evil through the bright void. Something about it seemed so familiar, like Spyro looked through those same eyes before.
No! Spyro, don't!
You can't stop me!
Immediately, after realising who he was looking at, Spyro viciously swiped the surface of the water with his paw. Water splashed onto the floor, leaving a large puddle behind. The shape of Spyro's dark manifestation rippled and morphed with the water, his cold stare still fixed on the purple dragon.
No! That is not the way! Spyro thought to himself. That is not who I will become!
Spyro had already experienced the darker side of a purple dragon's powers twice; he wished that he would never experience that type of power again. The urge to darkness was powerful, it was what infected Malefor… and Spyro didn't want the world to go through the same horrors again.
If he turned, like Malefor did, the world would turn into a demonised hell in a matter of minutes. He had to make sure the world maintained a sense of peace.
Wanting to get away from the fountain, Spyro made his way back to his room. Despite his head swimming with fear and uncertainty, he still quietly entered his room so he wouldn't wake up Cynder or Sparx. However, when he climbed into bed, the movement of the mattress and the slight creaking noise it made was enough to stir the black dragoness awake.
Cynder wasn't quite wide awake as she lifted her head to meet Spyro's gaze; her eyes were barely open and she looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.
"Hey… you okay?" she murmured groggily in a slight whisper.
Spyro didn't answer straight away, but he eventually nodded in response. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly.
Even though she was half-asleep, Cynder could sense something was up. She knew him too well. "You sure?" she asked.
"It's nothing," Spyro said. "I just needed a drink, that's all."
Cynder rubbed her eyes. "Honey, if there's something bothering you then—"
"I'm fine," Spyro interjected in slight irritation. He didn't mean to take that tone with Cynder, but his mind was still racing with everything that happened during the night. Everything was still fresh in his mind; he'd rather not talk about it right now. "I just want to get back to sleep… we have that meeting with the Council in the morning, remember?"
Spyro saw that Cynder wasn't satisfied with his response, but she was too sleepy to discuss anything further. "Yeah… yeah, that's right," Cynder mumbled before letting out a huge yawn. She then rested her head on her pillow again. "Goodnight, Spyro…"
Spyro laid next to her and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. "Goodnight, Cyn…" he said with a slight smile.
As Cynder went back to sleep, Spyro's smile vanished. He rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, a disturbed frown plastered on his face.
He didn't feel better, there was something still wrong with him. Maybe he should've talked to Cynder about his nightmare or his strange vision of his darker self in the fountain; she would have woken him up straight away if she experienced anything similar to that. In fact, she had done so on several occasions.
No, Spyro told himself, this was his burden to deal with. Cynder didn't need his issues as well as her own right now. She was doing so well to leave her own past behind.
Hearing the rain hitting the walls outside, Spyro closed his eyes and focused only on the sound of the rain. As he tried to close off any thoughts about his dream or his hallucination, one question kept entering his mind.
How does one get back to sleep after all that?
(-)
Morning came quicker than Spyro anticipated, and the purple dragon wasn't able to get a wink of sleep last night.
He wasn't sure what was going on inside his head but whatever it was, Spyro wasn't calm enough to fall into a deep slumber. But today was a day that Spyro should be worried about lack of sleep. Today was a pretty important day.
He, Cynder and the Guardians had a meeting with the council of Warfang this morning. The council consisted of an assortment of dragons, moles and cheetahs, elected to make sure Warfang was running smoothly, and they usually met up with the Guardians and discussed the ongoing renovations that Warfang had been going through since the end of the war.
Spyro and Cynder weren't usually invited to these kinds of meetings, as they would be at the Academy or running some important errands at the time. However, since the meeting fell on a day when the two weren't doing anything in particular, Terrador asked if the two would come to the next council meeting.
It was also the first time that the two teenage dragons would be meeting the new Fire Guardian personally. Her name was Pyria, a slender orange-scaled dragoness with two long curved horns and spines on her back resembling dancing flames. From what Terrador had told them, she shared many qualities with Ignitus that made her a perfect Guardian: dedicated, hopeful and caring of others. She did also have a bit of a fiery spirit at certain moments, especially when it came to certain students at the Academy.
Since Pyria was busy settling in as the new Fire Guardian and teaching some of the younger students, she hadn't had time to meet Spyro and Cynder until today.
What Pyria didn't expect, however, was that the purple dragon that she heard so much about came into the meeting looking like a tired wreck.
While running on a low amount of energy, Spyro did his best and introduced himself. The three did converse briefly until the rest of the council finally arrived. During that time, Cynder did most of the talking while Spyro was constantly zoning out as his thoughts drifted back to the night before.
That dream really rattled him; he almost didn't want to think about it. However, his brain had other ideas, constantly rewinding the image of the melting Ignitus and the voices of doubt in his head.
"Is there anything you'd like to add, Spyro?" a cheetah, who was holding up a parchment, then asked him.
Spyro was brought back into reality by a slight nudge from Cynder next to him. The purple dragon completely forgot where he was, his head darted around in confusion as he tried to get his bearings.
Everyone was staring at him, each seated around the meeting table, which made Spyro feel suddenly smaller. How did he get there? When did he zone out? How long had this meeting been going on for?
"Um…"
Cynder then leant over. "They're discussing the renovations to the east wall," she whispered.
"Oh!" Spyro's eyes widened. He mouthed a thanks towards Cynder before clearing his throat. "Um… is that the one that the Golem destroyed?"
The cheetah nodded. "That is correct."
"Shouldn't we have prioritised that already?" Spyro wondered. "There's potentially a risk of intruders entering the city."
"Spyro," Terrador chimed in. "We've already discussed that. The priority after the war was to make sure that Warfang was livable again for those affected. The city has put out an increase of guards near the east wall until we can get to repairing it."
Spyro's shoulders slumped slightly, his face going red with embarrassment. This was his first council meeting and he was already blowing it. He wanted to be seen as the purple dragon, not a dragon that was immediately disinterested as soon as he walked through the door.
"Right, of course…" Spyro murmured, attempting to flash a sheepish smile. "I just wanted to make sure."
There was an awkward silence before Terrador eventually spoke up to break the tension. "Please continue with your plans, Clover," he said to the cheetah.
The cheetah named Clover adjusted his glasses before he laid the plans for the renovations on the table. As he continued to ramble on about structural integrity and what materials to use or mine for, Spyro found himself sinking lower into his seat. He never felt so out of his depth; discussions like this seemed so simple back in the old Dragon Temple.
He wanted to say something to Cynder but he didn't want to make another scene by disturbing her. But it was Pyria who leant herself over to where Spyro was sitting.
"Spyro, is everything alright?" she asked. "You don't seem to be on the same page as everyone else."
While he could explain everything that he was going through, Spyro didn't have that same relationship with Pyria that he did with the rest of the Guardians. He knew that she was a good choice to carry on the mantle Ignitus once had, but that was as far as their relationship reached.
"Had a rough night, that's all," Spyro answered quietly.
"I see," Pyria said. A smile then formed on her lips. "If it helps, I think all these meetings are boring too. Necessary but boring nonetheless."
Spyro snorted in amusement. He wondered if Ignitus would've said the same thing to him, at least a version of it with some wisdom mixed into his words.
Eventually Clover had finished discussing plans for renovation to the rest of the council and had begun to roll up his blueprints. The head of the council, a fire dragon named Magnus, stood himself up from the table to address everyone.
"Now, since we're due to start repairing the east wall in a week's time, we need to organise for someone to oversee construction on certain days," Magnus said. "So who would like to volunteer for that?"
Without thinking, Spyro stood up and raised a paw. "I'll do it."
Cynder stared shockingly at her boyfriend, too speechless to even ask him what in the ancestors he was doing. Spyro was usually the type to think things through before diving into a decision, so to volunteer for a big responsibility on top of training and learning at the Academy was somewhat unexpected.
Unlike Cynder, Magnus seemed delighted at Spyro's decision. "Excellent, young Spyro, now who else—?"
"There'll be no need for anyone else, I can do it," Spyro then said, rather bluntly. If Cynder wasn't surprised before, she would be now.
Something was different about Spyro, Cynder noticed this last night. She might've been half-asleep but she knew that something had happened to Spyro during the night. She wasn't sure what, Spyro brushed her off before she could ask further. Spyro didn't usually keep issues to himself, not to Cynder at least. If Spyro was troubled then he would talk to her, and Cynder did the same with him.
If Spyro was dealing with something, why not tell her? And why distract himself with more work? Cynder needed to get to the bottom of it.
Magnus blinked, his delightful mood slowly morphing into confusion. "Oh… um, are you sure, young dragon?" he said. "It's a lot of work for—"
"I'll manage," was Spyro's response.
There was a brief worrisome glance between Magnus and Terrador, their sheer eye contact saying a thousand words. Magnus, still unsure what to do, then fiddled with the tuft of hair on his chin and gazed at the purple dragon.
"Well… if you're sure, Spyro, then alright," Magnus muttered. "You'll be in charge of overseeing the work on the east wall."
Spyro nodded. "Thank you."
"And it's not just checking up on the workers," Magnus then clarified. "You'll need to help out, do the paperwork, sort out any issues that have arisen—"
"I'll sort it out," Spyro said. No hesitation, no second guessing. He was committed to the job. Maybe a bit too committed in Magnus' opinion, but as long as the job got done, he didn't mind.
"Okay then," Magnus decided to move on, knowing that Spyro's mind won't be changed anytime soon. "Was there anything else that we needed to discuss today?"
There was silence and a couple of head shakes, which was all that Magnus needed to see. He grabbed the gavel from the table and banged it against a small block of wood.
"Meeting adjourned."
As soon as the meeting had officially finished, Magnus and the rest of the council began to pack up and leave separately. Terrador quickly got out of his seat and rushed to Magnus' side before he could head out of the door. Spyro could hear hushed muttering between the two elder dragons but he couldn't determine what they were talking about exactly, he could only assume that they were talking about him.
He didn't know why his decision to help out the east wall alone had gotten everyone so surprised. Didn't they expect him to take the job? He said he could handle it, wasn't that enough?
Spyro was just glad that he had something to distract him. He didn't need to be constantly thinking about what happened last night.
When everyone had disappeared, only Spyro and Cynder were left. Cynder's attention immediately turned to Spyro, a concerned frown on her face.
"What was all that about?" she asked, her tone sounding slightly harsh.
Spyro raised an eyebrow. "What was what?"
"You, volunteering to work on the east wall!" Cynder said, her eyes widened. "How can you possibly think you can do that on your own?"
"You and I have done that kind of work before," Spyro said, unsure why Cynder was talking to him like that. "I don't see…"
"Honey, those were errands," Cynder muttered. "We were only there for an hour or two, and that was for a small problem. This work… it's not like that."
"It'll be fine, I promise," Spyro assured her. His paw glided over to hers and Cynder's once furrowed brow had shifted into a worrisome glance.
"You just have to be careful," Cynder said with a sigh. "Soon enough, you'll be staggering. Don't wear yourself out, Spyro… it's not healthy."
At this point, Spyro stopped listening as his grasp on Cynder's paw slipped away. Cynder could see that he heard what she was saying, but the words hadn't quite gotten through to him yet. It was like he was terrified, but either he didn't want to admit it… or he wasn't sure why he was terrified. Cynder could tell through his amethyst eyes that something else was brewing inside that big head of his.
Ultimately Spyro blinked and shook his head quickly, putting on a false facade by giving his girlfriend a slight smile. Cynder could not believe what she had just witnessed.
"I should head over to the east wall," the purple dragon said, practically ignoring what Cynder said to him. "There might be some reports to look over… I'll see you later, yeah?"
Cynder only gave him an non-verbal response: a simple nod. That's all he was getting for now. She was not happy, not in the slightest.
She was not happy that Spyro was hiding something.
She was not happy that Spyro couldn't tell her anything. Not wouldn't, couldn't. It was like he was scared to tell her.
As the purple dragon left silently, his tail dragging on the ground in a sad manner, Cynder was left alone. When Spyro was out of sight, Cynder could only curse loudly to the ancestors above. She just wanted to help… only to be turned away. By her own boyfriend, nonetheless.
Once Cynder calmed herself down and began to leave the meeting room, only one thought passed her mind. A thought that wouldn't be as easily answered than she once assumed.
What was going on with Spyro?
(-)
A week had passed, and Cynder was getting seriously concerned.
From what she'd seen, Spyro's work on the re-construction of the east wall had taken a toll on him. She'd barely seen him around since he was held up or too busy to even make five steps away from the construction site. The only time the black dragoness would even see Spyro was late into the night, where either she would sleep in his room or he would stay over in her room. Normally Cynder would've been happy to have Spyro around, especially since he'd been absent in her life lately, but over the past week, he hadn't been the most pleasant company.
Spyro looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles surrounding them as exhaustion overwhelmed him. The once curious and optimistic purple dragon was now a tired and predictable mess. Despite how tired he looked, Spyro still struggled to get a wink of sleep. Cynder could feel him toss and turn and get up in the middle of the night; it was a miracle that she was getting a decent amount of sleep herself.
Cynder had tried to reach out to Spyro, only to be interrupted by Spyro falling asleep as soon as he hit the mattress. That would probably be the only good amount of sleep he would get before being woken up from a later disturbance. She tried to ask him what was going on with him, but his response wasn't what Cynder wanted to hear.
'I'm fine', Spyro would say. 'I'm alright', he would also say. Too simple, too vague. It wasn't enough.
What could turn Spyro into a heap of exhaustion in just a week's time? He could handle a lot of work, but there was something more, like he was pushing himself more than he should. Cynder wanted to help… but Spyro wasn't letting her in.
It was now the weekend, a time where Spyro and Cynder would spend time together with little-to-no interruptions. But this time, Cynder was alone. It was the most alone she'd ever felt since she was taken by Skabb and his band of pirates.
She sat by the fountain in the city square, the closest she'd ever get to the east wall at this point in time, glancing around at all the other dragons, cheetahs and moles that were enjoying the afternoon sun. Cynder couldn't even smile as she shedded a single tear; why were they happy and she wasn't?
"Cynder?" a voice called out to her.
Cynder quickly wiped her singular tear away and turned to the direction of the voice. Her spirits seemed to lift slightly as she saw Aella, Barak and Visham approaching her. However, Cynder went back to her current mood when they saw that all three of them sported a look of concern.
"Oh, hey guys…" Cynder murmured.
The trio quietly sat with her at the fountain, Aella spread one of her wings and gently wrapped it around Cynder's shoulders. Cynder was only used to Spyro giving her this type of gesture, whether it be platonic or romantic, but she appreciated what Aella was trying to do.
"We haven't seen much of you around lately," Aella said. "Is everything okay?"
Cynder wanted to say yes, but she only answered with a head shake.
Aella's face fell. Judging from how Cynder was behaving, she could figure out what was wrong with her. "It's about Spyro, isn't it?" she then asked.
Cynder only stayed silent and simply nodded.
"So what happened? Did you guys have a fight?" Barak wondered. "Do you need somebody to kick his ass for you?"
Visham scoffed. "As if you can take on Spyro…"
"I can certainly try," Barak said with a shrug.
"Barak, I would like—"
Aella cleared her throat and gave the two male dragons an unimpressed glance. "Guys… now's not the time," she said.
Barak lowered his head, feeling slightly ashamed. "Right, yeah… of course," he murmured. "Sorry, Cynder."
Aella rolled her eyes at her friends' unhelpfulness and focused her attention on Cynder. She could see how much Cynder was hurting. She didn't quite know what was going on between her and Spyro, but she knew that something was wrong. Cynder was a hard dragoness to read, but her eyes are an instant giveaway.
"So what happened between you two?" she then asked the black dragoness.
"Spyro took a job helping out with the work on the east wall," Cynder answered. "It's nice that he wants to help out the city and all… but I'm worried about him. This work and everything that's on his plate, I feel that all this is too much for him. He's pushing himself harder than he should be…"
Aella raised an eyebrow. "Have you talked to him about this?"
"I've tried," Cynder said, her shoulders slumped. "But he didn't want to hear it."
Aella was surprised to hear this. Spyro was always willing to listen to what Cynder had to say, what could make him say otherwise? "He brushed you off?" she said. "That doesn't sound like something Spyro would do."
"I don't think he meant to," Cynder murmured. "I don't know… something just seems off with him lately. It's like he's keeping something from me, but I'm not sure what..."
"What was off with him?" Visham chimed in.
"I'm not sure," Cynder said. "There was one night where Spyro woke up in the middle of the night. He said he needed a drink and went back to sleep after that. I just figured he had some bad dream."
"Hmm," Barak scratched his chin in thought. "Maybe that's why he's acting so weird. Perhaps Spyro has gotten so shaken up that he's working himself to the bone?"
Cynder pondered Barak's words. Could that be why Spyro was acting the way he was? It's not like Spyro had never had a bad dream before. She remembered a time where he told her about his dream of hearing Malefor's voice as they left the realm of Convexity. Sure, he was a bit spooked then but it didn't really affect him. So whatever dream Spyro had that fateful night last week, it must have scared him beyond any sense of belief.
But Cynder's thoughts went deeper. What if it wasn't fear that affected the purple dragon? His behaviour didn't match someone that would be scared. Cynder knew what that felt like; it was partly why she ran away from the Dragon Temple back when she was twelve. No, this behaviour was entirely different.
"Yeah, you may have a point," Visham said. "Did you see how he was at school the other way? He wasn't there because he needed to be there, he was there because he had to be."
"I mean… don't we all feel that way? This is school we're talking about here," Barak deadpanned.
"No, I mean he's moving without a purpose," Visham clarified. "He's just charging along."
"What makes you say that?" Cynder wondered.
"My mum and I were always moving from place-to-place during the war. Common folks weren't exactly friendly to… well, a dragon like me," Visham muttered. "By the end of it, my mum was simply staggering along until you and Spyro defeated Malefor. The only reason she kept going was because of me."
"And you think Spyro is going through the same thing?"
"Well, not exactly like my mum," Visham said. "But the way I saw my mother, that tired and exhausted look, I can see it with Spyro too."
"So what do I do about Spyro?" Cynder wondered. "How did your mother overcome it?"
"It wasn't something that happened overnight," Visham said, shaking his head. "But I could feel that sense of relief when we both set foot in Warfang for the first time. There was no war, no conflict… we could do the one thing we couldn't do: to simply just live our life. It's still difficult some days, but it's much better than moving around a lot."
Cynder thought hard about what Visham had said, feeling sympathetic about the journey he and his mother went through. She had felt similar feelings herself when she and Spyro returned to Warfang or, more precisely, when she and Spyro woke up in the Valley of Avalar after Spyro had put the world back together again.
She never thought much about how Spyro managed to cope with a post-war world. A safe world was all he ever fought for, so what was the point of a purple dragon if the new era wasn't in danger of being altered?
Spyro hadn't quite realised that he could just live his life. Not as Spyro the legendary purple dragon, but rather just simply… Spyro.
Cynder wondered how she'll ever get that message through to him. She couldn't just go the straightforward approach and tell him out of the blue, that was not how fixing someone worked. They needed to be shown that the path they are on is not the right one.
Then, to the surprise of Aella, Barak and Visham, she lit up, she had a plan… Well, a start of one anyway.
"I might have an idea," Cynder muttered, suddenly sounding more confident. "And we're going to need everyone."
(-)
It was all going downhill for the purple dragon.
If the lack of sleep wasn't enough, the ongoing pressure of completing the east wall was taking its toll on Spyro. There was just so much to do in so little time, Spyro knew that he wasn't going to hit the deadline set by Magnus and the rest of the council. But, being the determined dragon he was, Spyro carried on and worked as hard as he could to finish the day's work, even helping out with some of the construction work himself towards the end of the day.
Spyro thanked the ancestors that there wasn't much paperwork to do today, and started to make his way to the Dragon Temple as the sun was going down. He was so tired, so brain-dead, like his body was running automatically. All he wanted to do was lie down and forget the world around him. Just for a moment, he'd believe he was a kid in the swamp again, free to run around without having to worry about anything.
His mind then lingered to Cynder. He'd been so distant from her lately, and he hated that he was doing that to her. He had been there for Cynder whenever she was down, upset or unsure of herself, why couldn't he just let her in for once?
You have failed everyone: the Guardians, Sparx… and especially me. You are a failure.
Spyro tried to shake away that thought but he couldn't stop the pain from stinging. He knew it wasn't Cynder saying that, just a dark manifestation of her, but it still hurt. It hurt him more that he would even dream up such a horrible thought.
He couldn't fail; he had to succeed. He had to make sure the world was going in the right direction. Spyro wanted to avoid another war, especially since the last purple dragon was responsible for the last one.
Spyro opened the door to his room and was half-expecting Cynder or Sparx to be in the room already. But neither of them were present; the room was undisturbed and quiet. For the first time since he'd started working on the renovations, Spyro heard absolute silence. He hated every single minute of it. All he wanted to hear was Cynder's voice; he wanted to hear something that wasn't the negative encouragement that was echoing in the back of his head.
His body on the verge of collapsing, Spyro fell onto his stomach and laid still on the bed. He felt tired, but he couldn't find the strength to fall asleep. Not that he'd been able to sleep much anyway; his dreams were just too loud for him to ignore.
Spyro then heard a creak from his door, he lifted his head slightly to see who it was. His heart elevated slightly when he saw that Cynder was poking her head through the door.
"Hey, Spyro… can I come in?"
Spyro was surprised that she was asking him that, especially since she'd basically started living in his room not long after they started dating. "Yeah," he muttered. "Of course."
Cynder let herself in and immediately headed to the bed. Spyro shuffled around so she could lie next down to him. Even though he was tired, just simply staring into her emerald green eyes made him want to stay up for a little longer.
"You're back early," she said to him.
"Yeah, there wasn't much paperwork to do," Spyro muttered. "I didn't want to stay at the site any longer than I should be."
"That's good to hear," Cynder said, a slight smile appearing on her lips. "So the day went well then?"
"I wouldn't say that…"
Cynder's smile disappeared. "Oh?" she muttered. "How so?"
"It's just… I…" Spyro sat up, struggling to get his words together. He rubbed his eyes, unsure how to get the next few words out. "It's just a lot at the moment..." he said. He wasn't sure why he was acting like this at the moment, he was too tired to think.
Cynder also sat up and leant in closer towards the purple dragon, softly nuzzling his cheek in comfort. "I'm sorry, Spyro."
"It's okay, I can manage," Spyro said. No, he couldn't.
"Is there anything I can do?" Cynder then asked.
Spyro shook his head in half-amusement. "No, I don't think so."
"Why don't we head down to the mess hall?" Cynder suggested. "It might take your mind off things…"
Spyro rubbed the back of his head. He had just gotten back from a long day and wasn't particularly interested in going anywhere else besides going to sleep. "I don't know, Cynder—"
"Have you eaten at all today?" Cynder wondered.
The loud sound of Spyro's stomach rumbling was enough to answer Cynder's question. She gave a slight smirk as Spyro sheepishly tucked himself in between his wings. Maybe he did have enough energy to get a bite to eat.
"My thoughts exactly," Cynder chuckled. "Come on, purple boy… let's get something to eat."
The two teenage dragons got up from Spyro's bed and headed out into the corridor as they traversed towards the direction of the mess hall. The mess hall, occupied by those that maintained the Dragon Temple, wasn't usually a place that Spyro and Cynder frequently visited nowadays. They did back in their first initial days of living in Warfang, since it was the only food source they could find, or was open for business, in such a vast city. But, now that the two dragons knew their way around Warfang, eating from the mess hall didn't seem necessary anymore.
As they wandered, Spyro's mind started to fill with dreaded memories. While he walked side-by-side with Cynder, he once again remembered the fake Cynder that plagued him in his dreams. The word 'failure' was repeated over and over in his head, almost like a broken piece of music.
Unable to bear it, the purple dragon stopped in his tracks. He stared into the vast emptiness of the corridor ahead of him and went suddenly quiet. He hated having these feelings: shame, guilt, defeat. Why now was he feeling like this?
Cynder, who had just noticed that Spyro had suddenly stopped, calmly approached her boyfriend, sporting a worried and concerned glance.
"Hey, what's the matter?" she said.
At first, Spyro was silent. It took a couple seconds for Spyro to answer back, as if he was in a completely different time zone. But what came out of Spyro's mouth took the black dragoness by surprise.
"Do you think I'm a failure?" Spyro asked.
Cynder was taken back by Spyro's question, her eyes widening in complete shock. "Wh-no! Of course not!" she exclaimed. "What gave you that idea?"
"A dream I had…"
Cynder's head tilted slightly. "Dream? What dream?" she said. "Was it a vision?"
"No, nothing like that," Spyro answered. "In the dream, I was holding the entire world together. As I struggled, you, Sparx and Terrador appeared in front of me… Malefor too, unfortunately. The four of you wanted me to suffer, you all said some unkind words to me. Ignitus was there too, until his scales melted off and left him as a skeleton."
As Cynder was listening to Spyro's recount of his dream, she was surprised that she wasn't told about this sooner. Instead, Spyro kept it bottled in and that mentally affected him not too long after. Whatever that dream version of herself said to her boyfriend, it really messed him up.
"Why didn't you tell me about this dream sooner?"
Spyro shrugged. "I don't know…" he muttered. "I wasn't sure what to think of it myself."
"Well, whatever that Cynder said to you in that dream, she was wrong," Cynder assured him. "You're not a failure, Spyro, you never were. It's best not to worry about what happens in dreams. It's like what you always say to me, whenever I have bad dreams, you say that—"
Out of nowhere, Spyro suddenly scoffed. "Oh what do I say, Cyn? What do I say exactly? Because I'm always so certain, aren't I?" Spyro said, almost yelling at Cynder. The black dragoness noticed that he was echoing what she had said to him during her own breakdown many moons ago.
"It's all… heroic purple dragon this and powerful elemental abilities that, but take that away?" Spyro said, starting to get frustrated and somewhat afraid. "Take those away… and what am I left with? What am I now?"
He was almost in tears as he paused and stared at Cynder, his frustrations slowly morphing into guilt as he realised what tone he was taking with her. Spyro never felt so irritated or so unsure of himself, he couldn't bear it anymore. He didn't mean to take it all out on Cynder; she deserved better than that.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, I—" Spyro murmured.
"It's okay, Spyro."
"No, it's not," Spyro shook his head. "I've been neglecting you, and I shouldn't have distanced myself from you… it's just—"
Spyro's words stopped in their tracks as he struggled to resist the next wave of tears that wanted to trickle down his cheeks. "...I don't know what's wrong with me," he mumbled, his voice now slightly croaky.
As if on cue, Cynder immediately placed a comforting paw on Spyro's cheek. The purple dragon responded by placing his own paw on top of hers; he didn't want her to let go… not yet anyway.
"You're exhausted, honey…" Cynder said.
Spyro nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. How could he deny a feeling that's been brewing in his head for some time now?
"No, I mean… exhausted," Cynder then clarified, to Spyro's surprise. "Right down to your soul."
Spyro gave his girlfriend a quizzical glance. "What do you mean?"
Cynder lowered her paw from Spyro's cheek. "Follow me," was all that she said before she continued to walk down the hallway.
Spyro was left slightly confused, but decided to follow after her anyway. He simply thought they were going to the mess hall to get something to eat, now he wasn't so sure anymore… just like how his life was going at the moment. He didn't know what Cynder was leading him towards, but he was interested to find out despite his current mood.
He trailed behind Cynder as she led him to the mess hall. There were four long tables that spanned out across the space, obviously meant for larger crowds like students, refugees or the homeless back in the days before the war. But now, the number of patrons were completely limited; only those that maintained the Temple remained. They remained focused on their bowls of warm food and didn't acknowledge Spyro or Cynder as they walked past them.
Instead of finding a place to sit, the two dragons completely ignored the long tables and headed straight to another door; one that was connected to the room where the Council would occasionally meet. Judging from the secrecy, Spyro was hoping that he wasn't being dragged into some meeting. He was already getting slandered by some of the workers; he didn't need the rest of the Council dragging him down too.
"Cynder, what's going on?" Spyro said. "This isn't some meeting, is it? Because I don't think I can—"
"It's not a meeting," Cynder interjected. "Trust me… just open the door."
At first, Spyro was unsure whether to obey. He knew that this had all the basis of some form of trap, he experienced that all too well during the war. Sometimes he didn't know, sometimes he was forced to venture forth no matter what. It was the price of being the purple dragon, after all… he couldn't just give up after the first sign of trouble.
But then again, he completely trusted Cynder with his own life. They shared everything together; Spyro had faith that Cynder wouldn't betray him. She was unlikely to anyway, considering how much she hated thinking about her actions in the past.
With his trust set in place, Spyro opened the door to the Great Hall and his eyes widened.
Instead of the Council, the Guardians, except for Pyria, were present instead. The three were chatting to Sparx, who, judging from their facial expressions, was clearly getting on their nerves. But it wasn't just Sparx and the Guardians in the room, Hunter was there too. It was the first time that Spyro had seen him without his signature brown cloak, which Spyro felt was a little strange to see.
The cheetah was seen conversing with Aella, Barak and Visham, his arms wrapped around his back as he listened to a tale that Aella was recounting. Unlike the Guardians, who were only being polite to Sparx, Hunter seemed genuinely interested in what the young wind dragoness had to say.
What were they all doing here in one place? More importantly, however, why were they all together?
At the sound of Spyro opening the door, Sparx turned around and an enormous grin spread across his face. "Hey, Spyro! You made it!" he exclaimed excitedly as he zoomed towards the purple dragon's eyeline.
As soon as Sparx started talking, all eyes fell on him. Spyro immediately wanted to hide away in the depths of his wings; it felt like he was in school, and the teacher had asked him to answer a question he didn't know the answer to.
"Um, hi… everyone," Spyro murmured, still unsure why everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. His attention then drifted towards the cheetah warrior. "Hunter, how long have you been in Warfang?"
Hunter smirked in half-amusement. "To be honest, my friend, I've only just arrived," he said. "Cynder sent me an urgent summons and I headed straight for Warfang as soon as I received it."
Spyro raised an eyebrow. "Cynder?" He turned towards the black dragoness. "What's all this about?"
"Well it's about your job…"
Spyro's face sank slightly. He probably should've known that this conversation was going to come up at this point, he was just too stubborn and absorbed into his duties to see it coming.
"Young dragon, we know how dedicated you've been to your assignment," Terrador stepped forward. "You're making good progress on it, it's just—"
"The job is too much for you, Spyro," Cyril interjected, casually taking Terrador's words in a more direct approach.
Terrador gave the Ice Guardian an irritated stare. "Cyril, I was about to—"
"I'm sorry, Terrador but this type of conversation is not meant to be done in a gentle manner," Cyril said. "If we are to get through to young Spyro here, we have to be more direct with him."
"I agree with Cyril… for once," Volteer chimed in. "Isn't that why we've all gathered, convened, congregated here today?"
Sparx rubbed his eyes. "Man, that's a lot of words to process," he grumbled. "Look, what these three are trying to say is that you need to let loose and just slow down."
"Slow down?"
"You're running on fumes, Spyro," Visham said. "You're tearing yourself apart from the amount of responsibility on your shoulders. It's not healthy."
Unfortunately, despite conflicting thoughts, their words hadn't quite gotten through to the purple dragon just yet. "I'm just tired, that's all," he muttered. At this point, he was just looking for any reason that everyone would be wrong. "It's only a temporary thing. It's not like I'm going to work on the wall forever, it will get done eventually."
Hunter folded his arms, unconvinced. "That may be true, my friend," he said. "But I fear that this has gone on a lot longer than renovating the east wall, right?"
Spyro went silent, knowing that Hunter was right. Being in charge of renovating the east wall wasn't the cause of his newfound misery, it only just amplified it. It was the catalyst of Spyro's own destruction.
"Your whole lifetime, ever since you found out that you were a dragon all those years ago, you never ever stopped," Cynder then said, sitting close to Spyro. "Rescuing the Guardians, losing your elements, your search for the Chronicler, the fight with Gaul, being trapped in a crystal for three years… You fought, you lost and you won, but did you, for one second, ever stop to think what the hell?"
Spyro wasn't sure what to think anymore. Surely, he hadn't been staggering for that long… right?
"But, I'm fine," Spyro murmured. "You're fine, everyone's fine…"
"I'm fine because I'm fixing myself," Cynder said. "But what about you, Spyro? You're suffering just as much as I was."
Cynder lifted a claw and gently turned Spyro's head around so that he was meeting her eye line. "As the others said, you need to stop…"
Spyro's eyes looked down to the ground. "I don't know how," he said. "My whole life has been about helping others and making sure that I honour the role of the purple dragon the way it was supposed to be. Without all that, who am I?"
"You're Spyro, love… that's all that matters."
"And what else?" Spyro wondered, trying so hard not to get upset in the presence of his friends. "My purpose was to ensure that Malefor's reign ended for good. Now that he's gone, what purpose do I have now?"
"Do you remember the last day of the war?" Cynder asked. "When we defeated Malefor?"
Spyro nodded. "Of course." He wasn't sure where Cynder was going with this.
"The two of us were stuck down in the centre of the Earth, we had no chance of escaping out of there. You powered yourself up and put everything back together again, then the next minute we both ended up somewhere in the Valley of Avalar," Cynder said. "We had no idea how at the time, we never figured it out, but now I think I know why the ancestors kept you alive all this time… do you know why?"
"No…?"
Cynder smiled gently. "So that you can live your life."
Tears started to stream down the purple dragon's face as he reeled from what Cynder said to him. After all he's been through, after all the battles where he almost died several times, it was clear that Spyro had a choice. He always had a choice, he didn't just realise it until now.
He could've died that day when the war ended, but he or Cynder didn't. The ancestors had given him a choice to live as he wanted to, not as he was fated to, because ever since he was twelve years old, the choice to live his life had been taken away from him. Now he had that choice again, thanks to an act of kindness above.
Spyro took a moment to wipe his tears away. "So what happens now?" he then wondered.
"I don't know," Cynder said with a smile. "But isn't that the best part? Not knowing what's going to happen?"
"I guess not."
Cynder raised her paw and stroked Spyro's cheek. "Well whatever happens, we'll take it one day at a time," she murmured. "You, me and everyone else, okay?"
Spyro smirked. "Deal."
Cynder, to Spyro's surprise, suddenly leant forward and kissed him gently. Spyro's eyes widened, a usual reaction to whenever Cynder kissed him, as he melted into the kiss. After all he's been through, all the pain, misery and emotional turmoil, a kiss from the girl he loved so dearly could cure all sense of suffering.
"Well, this is a surprise," the familiar voice of Terrador spoke up, causing the two teenage dragons to freeze in their place.
Their eyes widened and their faces turning a bright red, the two separated from their kiss and stared at the curious eyes of all their friends. Their glances were paired with heartfelt smiles as they finally saw the two dragons turn from best friends to a couple before their very eyes.
At the sight of public affection, Sparx simply rolled his eyes. "Eh… seen it before."
"Wait, you knew this all time?" Aella asked.
"Of course I knew," Sparx scoffed. "I knew even before they knew."
"I somehow doubt that," Visham said, knowing that Sparx was not being honest.
The dragonfly shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "Thank the ancestors that you don't have to live with them…"
Spyro and Cynder, meanwhile, had hidden themselves in their wings. When they first started courting, they discussed when to tell everyone about their relationship. Cynder wanted to keep it a secret for a while, which Spyro respected. He knew that word would spread quickly, and the rumours of the Terror of the Skies trying to poison the legendary purple dragon's mind would seep through the city like smoke in the wind.
But despite their slight mishap, Spyro only wanted to laugh. Sure, it wasn't the way he wanted to reveal his relationship with Cynder, but part of him liked the unpredictability of the sudden event. It felt… nice. It wasn't pre-planned like most events in his life; it took him back to his days of the swamp, before his years as a young dragonfly were stolen by fate.
Spyro's next thought had nothing to do with the war, or what work needed to be done. It was simple, and it couldn't be answered straight away.
What was next for him?
(-)
Time has passed, and Spyro, for the first time in a long while, felt at peace.
After his friends gave him the wake-up call he needed, Spyro slowly started his journey to heal. On Cynder's recommendation, he attended several sessions with her therapist Marilyn. Spyro wasn't used to therapy; he didn't think he needed it once upon a time, but he eased into it after the first couple of sessions and was drastically improving.
Then there was his job. As soon as they could, the Guardians spoke with Magnus and requested that Spyro be removed from the team overseeing the east wall. Soon after, Magnus honoured their request and hired someone else to take over from Spyro. Spyro wasn't sure who was in charge now but, judging how efficient the workers were, the renovations were seemingly going smoothly.
With nothing to do besides attending school, Spyro's mind felt more at ease. The nightmares started to fade away and any memory of holding the entire universe together or darker manifestations of themselves disappeared over time. For once, Spyro could actually sleep.
Part of him did wonder if his darker self would return to torment him at some point, but Spyro chose not to worry about it for now. He didn't need to worry about that; he didn't need to worry about much anymore. He could now simply live, and see the world he put back together.
The suns shone brightly over the city of Warfang and the sky was a brilliant blue, with no visible cloud in sight. Everyone was out and about, enjoying the sunlight after a pretty gloomy week. People took the time to wander around Warfang, visiting the nearby park or browse around the local shops. The city felt like it had returned to its golden age, a time when war or bloodshed didn't plague the city streets. Everything was happy, cheerful and overall peaceful.
So what was the purple dragon up to these days?
In the Temple gardens, Spyro, Cynder, Sparx and the Guardians were busy setting up for lunch together. They dragged one of the tables from the mess hall and placed it near the statue of Ignitus, each of the Guardians providing a handful of meals to share amongst the group.
"So, tell me why we're doing this again?" Sparx questioned, watching Cynder and Spyro lay a tablecloth over the table. He waved his hand in front of his face to get some cool air.
"We're just having lunch together, Sparx," Spyro said. "None of us have really gotten the chance to just sit and talk… you know, about stuff not involving the war."
"I get that," Sparx said. "But why couldn't we do this, I don't know, indoors? My wings are roasting here!"
Cynder smirked. "Says the dragonfly that lived in a swamp…"
"Hey, the swamps I can tolerate," Sparx said. "Sunlight, however, is a completely different story."
Cyril rolled his eyes. "It is truly impressive that you were able to survive the fight against Malefor's force if you can't even tolerate sunlight…"
"Don't you guys have dragons to guard over or something?" Sparx asked, folding his arms.
"Unfortunately for you, we don't," Cyril said.
"We don't have much duties today," Terrador then chimed in. He let out a sigh of relief. "First time I've been able to say that in a while…"
"Indeed it is, Terrador!" Volteer exclaimed. "How exciting, thrilling, exhilarating!"
"Besides, if anything comes up, then Pyria can take care of it," Terrador continued. "She's a strong leader, she'll do fine."
"It's a shame she couldn't come," Spyro muttered. "I would've liked to get to know her more."
"Maybe next time, perhaps?" Cynder assured him with a smile.
Spyro returned a smile. "Yeah, next time."
As Spyro and Cynder finished setting up, the Guardians brought their food dishes that they placed nearby and put it on the table. They all opened the lids on their dishes and many exotic smells engulfed Spyro's nostrils. There was a quiche, a platter of gourmet chicken sandwiches and a pasta dish that Spyro didn't seem to recognise, he just saw that it was covered in melted cheese. No matter the case, every single dish looked delicious and Spyro couldn't wait to have a taste.
"Wow, these look great!" Cynder complimented. "I didn't know you three could cook."
"Well, my dear, there's more to us than war strategies and mentorship," Cyril said. "I happen to have excellent skills when it comes to cooking…"
"Eh… from what I recall, remember, recollect," Volteer said. "Didn't you bring a burnt dish to Terrador's wedding?"
Cyril went slightly red. "It wasn't burnt to beginwith…" he mumbled.
"Oh yeah, I remember that," Terrador chuckled. He then turned to Spyro, Sparx and Cynder. "You should've seen the look on Mira's face, she was pis—"
Cyril cleared his throat before Terrador could finish his sentence. "Right, if we're done ridiculing me, I believe we have food to eat," he interjected.
"Hold on," Cynder said. "I think we're waiting for—"
As if on cue, Hunter, carrying a weaved basket under his signature cloak, arrived. He lowered his hood and bowed his head towards the group. "Forgive me, am I late?" he muttered.
"Not at all, Hunter," Cynder said, smiling at the cheetah's arrival. "Come and sit down."
"Thank you," Hunter said as he sat himself down on the edge of the table. He opened up his basket and placed another dish on the table. "I hope you don't mind that I've brought a meal from home, it's a fine delicacy in the village."
"It smells great," Spyro said. "What is it?"
"A simple fish dish," Hunter replied, opening up the dish. "Cooking is not one of my best skills, so I hope it tastes well."
"I'm sure it will, Hunter," Spyro said.
Terrador cleared his throat. "Now that Hunter has arrived," he said, addressing the group. "Shall we eat?"
"Yes, can we?" Sparx said. "Man, I'm starving!"
The dragons, Sparx and Hunter soon took their seats and began to piece together their own meals from the table. As they were serving and eating, everyone started to talk. Not about the war, or any events that took place during that time, but how their lives were going so far. A few questions were diverted towards Spyro and Cynder with their recently revealed relationship, in which the two dragons only shared a minimal bit of details. Their friends may now know about their relationship, but Spyro and Cynder still wanted to keep things quiet. They'd been private about it so far, it was what they were comfortable with.
The Guardians also shared stories about Warfang before the war and when they were growing up. As Spyro listened to how they all met and how they all became the Guardians that they are now, the purple dragon had a permanent smile on his face. All those battles and all that loss of hope, the Guardians and everyone else could breathe easier… all because of him. Spyro saved the world so that everyone can be free and happy again.
If only Ignitus could see all of this; Spyro knew that the former Fire Guardian would be proud.
Spyro then felt something wrap around his tail. He turned to see that it was Cynder's tail coiling around his own. He gave a soft smile towards his girlfriend when she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Hey, you okay?" she murmured quietly, so that everyone else at the table didn't overhear their conversation.
"Yeah… yeah, I'm feeling great," Spyro replied with a small nod. "Just seeing everyone here… It feels nice. I can't remember the last time we were all together like this."
"It's been a long time, that's for sure," Cynder said. "I'm just glad there's no Grublins around anymore… or those weird scaly red creatures. They weren't fun."
Spyro chuckled. "No… they weren't."
Cynder saw him look into the distance for a moment, as if he was remembering. Normally, whenever any events in the war were mentioned to him, Spyro's face would morph into a melancholic stare. However, that stare wasn't present this time. For the first time that Cynder could think of, Spyro seemed to be at peace.
"Do you miss it?" Cynder asked. "Being out there, fighting the good fight?"
"Funny thing is," Spyro said. "I fought all those battles for such a long time, and now I know what for… This. All of this."
The purple dragon gazed around towards his friends one last time. At this point, he couldn't really consider them friends anymore. It wouldn't really be the appropriate term for them at this moment of time. There was only one word that could describe them.
Family. Different and unique from what Spyro could consider a family, but all of them had been there for him every step of the way. They trained him, they fought for him during those three long years and they stood with him against Malefor's forces. Spyro couldn't ask for anyone else to call his family.
A warm smile spread across Spyro's face and, as he turned back towards Cynder, a tear slowly went down his cheek.
"I've never been so happy in my life."
(-)
And… we're done for this chapter. That took a lot longer than I wanted to, but so many things were getting in my way that I couldn't find the time to write anything. I've either been too busy, unwell or too tired to do anything, so I apologise for the long wait. Hopefully, as the rest of the year goes by, I can get back on my bi-monthly schedule. That's not a guarantee but I'll try to do my best.
So the next update will (probably) be the final chapter to my Doctor Who/Rio crossover then we'll be back to this story for the last chapter. Yup, this chapter is only the penultimate chapter to my story. The plan was always to do 8 chapters for this story, much like A Day in Warfang which served as inspiration for this story. Expect a lot of Spynder content in the next chapter!
Before I go, I would like to mention that this story, and a few others, are now published on A03. After suffered many site issues and outages, I don't want to lose any old or new content I have on here.
This is TARDIS1039, signing off… Allons-y!