Aimless

by The Silent Insomniac

Joshua Renalia finds himself lost in the Dragon Realms with nothing but his sleeping clothes, his knowledge of Spyro lore, and a power beyond his understanding. Cut off from all he knows, the human discovers Spyro's world is alien, unforgiving, brutally shattering his naive expectations. How long can he live here before going insane? Is there a way back home? Why is he even here?

19. A Child's Fury

Author's Note:

I'd like to thank TokoWH for being my beta in this chapter. While he didn't really do any direct editing, he was able to point out areas of improvement with regards to my writing style and portrayal of the canon characters (specifically the words they use).

Anyway, last chapter in the story arc… and it's ANOTHER LONG ONE! Clocked in at 16K! OTL OTL OTL Damn it! I was really aiming for 8K in this one! Sorry, guys... I'll try to make it shorter next time.

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Chapter 19: A Child's Fury

"Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different."

- Oprah Winfrey

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Kilat watched the aged dragon take on her attack behind an armor of rocks and boulders. The potent stream of lightning dispersed harmlessly when they hit. She never expected her strongest attack to be repelled so easily, and by an old reptile to boot.

She gnarled. This Treedoor or whatever those stupid Warfang people called him must be that good if he reacted that fast. Chances were he possessed much more experience and skill than that weird, ugly, unnaturally whitish dragon earlier. Kilat would not get another chance to shoot at the other dragons. Not with the snot-green brute in the way.

Maybe she shouldn't have bothered with that warning shot the first time around? She had both the complete element of surprise and a wide area of effect. Ancestors… if she had only went with that instead of being nice, those dragons would have—hmm… no. She couldn't have done that; Joshua would've been angry with her.

So now what? Treedoor was far above her level. Unbeatable one-on-one. Especially when he also had the flight advantage. Her amputated wing ensured there was no way she could fight evenly. She grimaced. This is going to be tough...

She saw Joshua slump. He crumpled in on his knees, staring down at the ground. Did he give up? Did he, did he just resign himself to his death? Like all those people wanted?

Memories struck the moment her cobalt sight saw this surrender. They brought an understanding that harked back to the time they met. It echoed her own, pathetic capitulation, when, at the hour of her greatest despair, the Ancestors rewarded her not with starvation, not with a quick death, but with a person who had a good heart, the determination to see her live, and the willingness to look after a burden. A young, energetic child like her.

Kilat scolded herself. She couldn't just give up now. She couldn't leave Joshua again, not around people who wanted to kill him just because of someone else's lies or biases. To get to him, she had to be stronger. She had to be faster. She had to do whatever it took.

Eyeing the dragons flying—hovering just beneath the wall, a plan popped into her mind. A crazy, insane plan only a child and her unchecked imagination could seriously entertain. Thinking what she needed to do bothered her, but she swallowed her unease. She shut out—she purged the seeds of doubt leeching away her confidence and took a few deep breaths to get ready.

Mom always said Ancestors bless no regrets.

Then Kilat did the unthinkable. Armed with the unforgettable proverbs of her mother, she called upon her energy, her mana. The energy culminated into a violent, torrid buzzing in her mouth. She fought the urge to open her snout and spit it out, like the few times she had performed this attack before. She took control of this energy and sent it into her center before pushing it—forcing it all out. Multiple vents beneath her scales went flush with electricity, fueled by her own mana.

When her golden scales were enveloped in a shimmering, crackling yellow, she moved.

She dashed.

Kilat hopped on the concrete rail and, oh Ancestors, how she pushed! Putting her all into this one daring move, the little girl leaped into the air and soared far. Far, despite her inability to fly. She arced towards the mighty, mean dragon and brought her horns down on his chest as the armor of boulders began dropping from his body.

Treedoor's eyes dilated at her unexpected approach. "This persistent child—OOF!"

A combination of Kilat's kinetic energy and the power she exuded in this Volt Tackle dropped the so-called Guardian. He lurched steeply, plummeting at least forty feet down while twitching, unable to right himself in time.

"Terrador!" hollered a nearby dragon. He flapped his wings with a most vicious ferocity and accelerated to them, in hopes of rendering swift, effective assistance for his superior. His teacher. His mentor. "Damn it, you little girl. We're trying to—!"

He ended up helping the wrong dragon instead.

There could be no better proof for the keenness of Kilat's eyes than the speed at which she saw the opportunity present itself to her. Tension hardened the claws clenching down Treedoor's hazel scales, split seconds before the little girl proved beyond a reasonable doubt just how hard, how difficult it was to catch a nimble, hyperactive child driven on accomplishing an imperative that could neither be ignored nor passed over.

The prodigy shot a bolt of lightning at the newcomer. His jaw dropped at its surprising speed. Several times faster than what was normal for a dragoness her age, the lightning bolt struck the older dragon before he could even think of moving out of the way. The smoke blocked out his vision for a few seconds and bought Kilat time. Precious time.

Time she exploited to their maximum. The little girl kept her mind blank—pushing away the voices of her regrets, her doubts—and leaped off of the old lizard's body instants before his claws lunged to restrain her. Electricity darted around her fangs. Kilat showed no hesitation when she ferociously bit down on the other dragon's wing and, as he flinched, used her last remaining amount of mana to channel her Element straight into his body.

"A-buh-buh-buh-buh-buh!" Unable to fly or move, gravity pulled them down hard, losing altitude faster than Treedor did.

He flailed around. An attempt to throw the little girl off or slacken her jaw. "Off—! Get—

And it accomplished nothing.

Kilat saw the ground coming. Very quickly, the dragoness relinquished the battered dragon's scales and left behind a bleeding imprint of her teeth. Then she kicked off of her impromptu assistant, jumped down the last ten feet between her and the grass, and rolled upon landing.

Thwooooorp.

"Ancestors help us all!" cried yet another old dragon. Yellow and blue scales. Electric Element. Must be this 'Volteer' Joshua mentioned before. "T-this is ca, catastrophic! Calamitous! Utterly devastating!"

The vixens of Mungo Volpe tended to wail the same way whenever they woke up with their fur all knotted up. Rumpled, dry, and coated in the gross sheen of their own saliva—dragon spit could do so much better than that; she would know. Volteer's exclamations rang in Kilat's ears no differently from those foxes and their insufferable obsession with fur.

Ancestors, what now? She rose on all paws and, driven by a mix of curiosity and worry, eyeballed Joshua. Her mouth quivered, threatening to break open at the sight of her hoo-man floating in the air, his body swathed in an ominous, pallid white. Even the Terror of the Skies, her most detested enemy, froze before the sight.

Volteer continued to babble in blind panic. "…no sense. This makes no sense! Convexity isn't supposed to—only the Purple Dragon—my observations of the Unknown Element suggest zero correlation, nonexistent linkages—

"Get a hold of yourself, Volteer!" Kilat glanced up and saw the aged Ice Dragon—the third Guardian—hovering above. He glared down at the Electric Guardian, scowling in distaste. "We are among the best Warfang has to offer: a continued tradition spanning centuries of rich history!"

His peer eyed the holes in the world and the purple haze they leaked, but didn't dare turn away from Cynder and risk her intervention. Volteer remained unconvinced, his worries still showing in his shivering eyes and the constant twitching of his lips. "Cyril, the Unknown Element has brought Convexity upon us! Convexity! This situation warrants much caution, else we risk—

"Do not give in to intimidation. We must—we will stay strong and put the furless ape down before he can do anything with it!"

"Can't you be stubborn later—

Cyril ignored him and drowned out Volteer's warnings with a fierce roar. "Release your Furies!" he ordered. "Show what it means to be Warfang's first generation of dragons! Show your pride and—

"Suck an egg!" Kilat yelled.

A well-placed thunderbolt struck the Ice Guardian before he could finish his quick words of encouragement. He dropped, prompting a few of the other dragons to go straight for his position and cushion the fall. "Cyril!"

Kilat grimaced at the thought of this city's finest murdering her older brother in cold blood. She couldn't shake off the memory of that mean, green Guardian dismissing Joshua's words and instead concentrating on the body count. Never mind the fact their people started all this in the first place. Sentenced to death for something he never meant to do? To avenge those who fell to his desperate attempts to defend himself?

Kilat observed this crisis no differently from her encounter with that terrifying Ape with the hoo-man-like face and his minions, back at the forests. They had no reason to attack their small group. No reason to ambush them, to murder them, if not drag them back to some city for a life of torture and pain. Yet they did. Despite all reason, they did, only because of the sole fact the Apes scorned—the Apes as an entire species detested Dragons.

Warfang's trauma from the war with Malefor and the Apes and its residual hatred zeroed in on Joshua with identical ferocity and mercilessness. It didn't matter who he was or what he did. The City of Dragons only needed someone to blame, some new threat to aim at. That Joshua looked like one of the new Apes made him even more of a target. Kilat felt this was unfair—too unjust—and with that thought she did the one thing she knew best and broke into a frantic sprint before the Guardians or their followers noticed she was back.

Cobalt eyes trained only on her adolescent caretaker, the little girl read resignation and apathy in his body language. Her neck creaked as she shrugged off the temptation to stare at the spheres hovering in the space around Joshua, bleeding that strange, purple matter, and distorting the world in their wake. Had she looked, she would have been mesmerized by the deep, endless prism of color swirling within. Had she scrutinized this chaotic light, she might have seen images flickering within.

Glimpses of the impossible.

Kilat stopped. Her determination faltered at the white, nebulous mass surrounding the teenager. She whimpered upon recalling all the corpses that surrounded them, her hoo-man at the very center of it all. She wanted to go on, to push onward, yet Joshua's Element drew out this irrational fear from her. Every time she tried to take another step, she heard the clamor of her heartbeats and felt an inexplicable pressure pushing her back. Was she imagining things?

"Step back, child! It's dangerous there!" Kilat twisted her head and saw Treedor glaring down at her from the air. She read irritation and… concern on his snout. The Guardian nudged his humongous head and pointed to the Fire dragoness squirming in the grass like a weak, newborn hatchling. "If you go any closer, you'll end up like her, or worse!"

"But, b-but…!" Kilat glanced back at Joshua. "Ancestors, no. Joshua, J-Joshua won't…"

Cyril touched down away from her, looking at her in the eye. "Listen to Terrador," he said, his voice devoid of the burning passion that colored his speech. "Listen to us: your elders. I understand the furless ape showed you kindness once, but look. Look what he's doing now. Look how he's disrupting the world around him as we speak."

She couldn't afford to look, when three younger dragons were keen on flanking her from the sides, a little bit out of sight.

"The rich traditions of generations past attest to the belligerence of the Apes, the dangers they present to us all. Your life is precious, tiny wing. Don't throw your life away for a worthless good-for-nothing that will only kill you in the end."

She didn't need to look, because Joshua once saved her life with that power.

"You don't know what you're talking about, you old lizard." Rebelliously, Kilat stuck her tongue out at him for added measure.

The Ice Guardian balked at the shot to his pride. Reeling from the blow, he growled at a dragoness centuries his junior. "This rude, little—! Insult my pedigree one more time, and I'll…"

Kilat wrenched her muzzle back towards Joshua Renalia. For a split-second, she saw only the sadness—the defeat—the disappointment written on his face. Unable to believe the two Guardians, unconvinced of their apparent wisdom and judgment, the young dragoness decided she was scared of losing the only person she could count on more than she was scared of dying. "You got it wrong."

She forced herself to charge in Joshua's direction. "You got it all wrong!" Forced herself to ignore every impulse—every instinct in her body urging her to stop, to cease and desist.

The three that had been inching closer and closer lunged the instant she moved. Kilat shrieked at their agility. They easily overwhelmed the dragoness. Quickly she reacted not with an Electric attack but by twisting, squirming her body. She darted around their every attempt to grab hold of her, and she met success only because of her diminutive size.

"Get back here!" Cyril shouted at her as she ran. A second later he addressed the others near him. "By the Ancestors, stop her! Someone stop that stupid monoscale before she kills herself!"

An Earth Dragon called on his power to upset the earth beneath the little girl's paws. The ground shuddered, increasing in violence and intensity, yet Kilat, from the sensations alone, discerned the lack of power—the lack of ferocity in the energy disturbing the land. That they refused to hurt her, a child, vexed her, when they refused to acknowledge her words.

Her paw almost fell into a crevice; she stumbled, yet she pressed on, quick to spit a lightning bolt at some random direction behind her. The excessive power of her attacks, now known to the others, caused her pursuers to hesitate and step back, giving Kilat more room to close in on Joshua.

"Please stop!" cried an Ice Dragon, noticeably smaller, younger, and faster than the others around the Guardian. One of Cyril's students, she figured. "You don't know what you're—

She looked back and blew a raspberry out of spite, almost missing the scowl on the drake's muzzle. Kilat never noticed him cock his head back and unleash clouds of ice and snow at her tail, intending to deaden her limbs and render her immobile.

It was too late.

The Ice Breath touched the fringes of the dead space around Joshua and dispersed harmlessly before Kilat felt the air freeze, arresting every dragon other than the little girl herself. She did not even realize she had gone far beyond the point of no return until she realized the world became silent.

Dark.

Gone.

She heard nothing. She saw nothing. She smelled nothing. Even the ground beneath her ceased to exist, and yet she ran. She believed she still ran, swearing to the Ancestors that she was still running, still putting one foot in front of another. She believed with every drop of her blood, every bit of her strength, that she was closing in on her beloved hoo-man "brother", even when the Dragon Realms was no longer there to prove it.

But…

Kilat pushed it away.

There's nothing.

Kilat pushed it away.

Left, right, up, down, forward, backward. There's…

Kilat pushed it away.

She took a deep breath—she thought she—

THERE'S NOTHING!

No. Joshua wouldn't kill her. Joshua couldn't—he wouldn't do this to her. He wouldn't take her life back. There was no way he would!

So Kilat pushed it away.

This time, it pushed back.

This nagging doubt grabbed the little girl. It spread itself all over, and never released her, subjecting her to an emotion she couldn't describe with words.

Kilat whimpered.

Kilat screamed.

She called for Joshua. Yelled his name to the darkness enveloping her, desperate to deny reality. But despite all her efforts, an absolute silence only awaited her. Her struggling gave birth to a stillness that wouldn't go away. An eternity of nothing.

She was…

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She was dead.

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The world reappeared.

A violent burbling noise pulled Kilat out of the nothingness, drawing her attention to the whirlpool of color directly in front of her. A glowing haze illuminated her sight purple and…

The sphere pulsed, resurrecting thoughts of death.

Kilat bolted upright from a fetal position. With vigor, she backed away from the deadly sphere and the distorted energies within. The dragoness gasped, almost screeching at how close she had been to touching it. It carried the odor of various metals being welded together, and Ancestors, how the air felt…

How the air, the ground—how it all felt.

"I, I'm alive?"

She took stock of everything around her. Voraciously, she marveled at the natural beauty of the Dragon Realms, overlooking all the blemishes—all the corpses on the ground—all the flabbergasted dragons ogling her in utter shock—for the sole reason that she was back.

"I'm alive!" Hearing her own voice… a smile broke out on her snout; a relieved laugh followed it.

Kilat stood well within the translucent, white mass. It rolled around her, and for some bizarre reason, she swore she discerned life in its movement. Her intuitive aptitude for emotions—common in most species of the Realms—pointed to something akin to concern and guilt in its ebbs and flows. Kilat did not know how she knew this; in fact, she would never be able to explain it.

But any thoughts of figuring out what in the Ancestors' name just happened shifted right back to Joshua as soon as the child realized how close she was to him. From this distance, there was no mistaking the dejection infusing his posture. The way he hunched his back over and embraced both his feet and his deadened arm, curling in as much as he could. Joshua had truly given up on everything, and from the looks of it, he'd sooner choose the oblivion Kilat just miraculously survived over the constant struggle that was life.

"Joshua!" she cried. Kilat sprinted the last few steps, around those horrific spheres—those growing spheres—and leaped right onto him. "Joshua!"

He stammered. "Ki-Kilat?" Astonished to discover her here, clinging to him, the adolescent ogled her like she wasn't real. His mouth made unintelligible blurbs. Words literally failed him, and after a few seconds of trying, he could only manage a weak and incredulous croak. "You're… you're here."

Had, had he been expecting someone to kill him? All this time?

The notion horrified the little girl. She stared back at him, at Joshua's haunted eyes. Seeing it compelled Kilat to respond with neither naïve platitudes nor placating gestures. She set her forepaws down, nuzzled his cheek once—twice—before resting her snout on the crook of his neck. She said nothing and let the gesture speak for itself. It's the least she could do, for everything he's ever done for her.

He stiffened at the motion. And when the unspoken message finally settled on his shoulders, he crumpled. Joshua Renalia wrapped his good arm around the innocent girl and tucked his head behind her curved horns. Then he wept.

Kilat's gaze panned across the field. She eyed the Guardians worriedly. What kind of leaders were they, to assume they had all the facts available? To quickly judge someone with execution? To kill an innocent over something he had no control over?

What will happen now? Were the Guardians going to decide to kill her too? Kilat traced the grim expression that snotty Treedor wore on his snout. His eyes had narrowed. The frown on his muzzle was deepening. What was he planning? Was he seriously considering to follow through with Joshua's death sentence, even with a little girl in the crossfire?

But the thought of her death did not bother her so much. Not anymore. Even though she just threw away her only chance at finding out for herself what attracted Explodon and his friends to Warfang, who her family had been, and if she still had surviving relatives, Kilat did not feel the tug of regret on her heartstrings. Even if the Ancestors rewound time and presented the choice to her again, she would not abandon her hoo-man brother. She'd rather die together with him, if only because she didn't want him to go meet his "Christ" god alone.

A distressed sound from Volteer's direction drew the Kilat's attention to a growing pool of darkness spread underneath him. The evil demoness burst from it with a nightmarish snarl, her paw thumping the Guardian's exposed belly. The elder dragon collapsed; as soon as she confirmed her opponent was down, Cynder fanned her wings out and took off before Volteer recovered.

With unparalleled speed the Terror of the Skies flew over Joshua and Kilat. The child tracked her, seeing every bit the incorrigible monster who massacred her family and friends. She watched her soar, keeping away from the Unknown Element's dead space with nothing more than mere guesswork of its range. Globs of poison rained down, but instead of assailing Kilat and her brother—as she expected—they demarcated a glowing green line on the grass that separated the two from all the other dragons.

"This stops now!" she snarled. Cynder smashed into the ground and flared her wings. A crimson wave assailed the other dragons. "Take one step past that line and I will ground you myself!"

Several growled in reply to her announcement. Others took a few steps towards her; those who were airborne looked like they were about to dive at her. All had their eyes in Joshua and Kilat's direction, and it would've been easy for anyone to conjecture their thirst for vengeance exceeded their common sense. In any other time, anyone would think twice of crossing one of the so-called Saviors.

Cynder reaffirmed, "Don't even think of testing me!" She roared louder. Emerald spheres glared at each and every one of them. "Attack Joshua again and"—black wisps irradiated from her wings.—"Ancestors help me, you'll be spending the next week with the healers when I'm done."

With a clear threat from the young adult, the dragons ceased their advance. Several of them backed away, while a few stood in place, either glaring at the supposedly rehabilitated monster or ogling her in astonishment.

Confusion beleaguered the little girl.

Cynder just helped them. She publicly declared it. Everyone else standing before her became a potential enemy, and she viewed them as such. The little girl could see it in the dragoness' aggressive posture, in the stern words, and in the brazen display of her power. The Terror of the Skies was no longer the weakened dragoness Kilat saw when she awoke, bloodied and huddling desperately beside the dying Purple Dragon. She seemed ready to fight the people she earlier called comrades and friends.

But why? Why? The Purple Dragon of Legend sought Joshua's death, and this she-demon allowedhim to go and execute her hoo-man. Joshua surely must have done something to him in his defense; so shouldn't she hate Joshua for it? And even before that, Kilat swore on her gold scales Cynder herself stood before the hoo-man earlier, looming above him. Her green eyes staring down askance.

What happened while she was out? What changed, what moved this heartless demon to bet her clutch against the others? Against the Guardians? Against the decision of the city's hero himself? It didn't make sense to Kilat.

Neither did it make sense for the leaders she opposed now.

Green and mean Treedor was the first to go over the line. His burly wings folded in one quick movement; he ambled towards the black dragoness with an intimidating glower. "By the Ancestors! Cynder, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Terrador?" she snapped. "I'm stopping this mess before the whole egg breaks wide open."

"By taking Joshua's side?" The Earth Guardian shook his head. "You can't be serious! He slaughtered our guards. He murdered innocents. He brought our Savior—your mate!—to death's door! I don't care what or who he is. He is guilty. Several eyewitnesses confirmed this. Even the furless ape himself admitted he killed them all! We must punish him according to the weight of his—

A fierce grunt from Cynder stopped him. "He isn't guilty of anything. When Spyro, Sparx, and I first got here, we found him"—her wing gestured to Joshua and Kilat—"arguing with Infernus while Rimeer had that little girl pinned down like a common criminal."

"But all those people—

"I know you don't want to admit it, but many of them still hate me. That child even attacked me on sight. He managed to pacify her, but in the process everything fell into disarray; those people tried to kill us. When that failed, Infernus manipulated Spyro into attacking him when I already had Joshuaunder control."

"T-that, that contradicts the reports—

"Of course it does! Infernus's and Rimeer's Wings are loyal to them. Fiercely loyal, but cowardly. They took off once both dragons were dead."

Terrador groaned. "Cynder, even if Joshua acted out of self-defense, the mere fact our people initiated this catastrophe does not absolve his culpability—

"Don't get me started on 'our people'." Cynder glared at one of the corpses. An Ice Dragon, lying on a pool of blood that originated from a wound in the neck. Kilat recognized the dead guard immediately. "Did your witnesses tell you how Rimeer took advantage of this? He personally tried to kill me, and intended to blame the human for my death. Twice! I'd have died if Joshua didn't save meboth times!"

The Earth Guardian's snout dropped at the revelation, at a loss for words. Cynder pressed her attack. "There is something seriously wrong with Warfang if we allow scheming, intolerant dung like him and Infernus rise into positions of influence. Can't you see Joshua is a victim of—

A galloping sound interrupted the conversation. Kilat, not even questioning how she was tracking a conversation too far to hear clearly, looked and saw Cyril leaping up and over the entire line. "Are you insane?" the Ice Guardian shouted. "You're defending that dirty ape! Obstructing justice! He—

"Is not at fault," Cynder cut him off. She stood her ground. "I know what I'm doing," she said. "I'm making sure we don't make a mistake and kill a good person." The dragoness glanced at the energies that had accumulated around Joshua. At the literal holes in the world. "And possibly destroy Warfang while we're at it."

Kilat noticed Volteer walking around the dead space, aiming to join the group. He and the child made eye contact for a second before his attention focused on the nebulous, white mass, and everything around and within it. Kilat followed his gaze, and she too, saw how the cloud ceased growing, how the light illuminating Joshua seemed to have dimmed slightly, how the spheres of death no longer expanded. She didn't know what to make of it, and so returned to the argument between the three Guardians and Joshua's only defender.

"…my respect, Cyril," Cynder was saying, "We can't force Joshua to take responsibility for all of this. It is clear we, w-we only have ourselves to blame."

"Ourselves?" Cyril looked scandalized. "What is that supposed to mean? Warfang reserves its sovereign right to refuse anyone at its borders. That furless ape was rejected, yet he resisted our demands to leave! This situation is his fault and no one else's! Thus, he must be held accountable for every death, every injury in this incident."

The meanest of the Guardians nodded in agreement, surprising the black dragoness. "I agree with him. Whatever happened here at the East Gate between Joshua and Rimeer escalated when he refused to abide by our border control policies."

"But, but Terrador, the other dragons—

"We will address their lies and get to the bottom of their story in the near future, Cynder," Treedor replied sternly. "But as far as Joshua is concerned, he personally saw to the deaths of our friends and students. If his power is as misunderstood—as uncontrollable as you just said it is, then his responsibility begins first with gross negligence."

She tensed. "Why won't you pardon him?" Cynder's voice had risen from astonishment. "I've done so much worse than Joshua in the years I worked for Malefor, yet despite your doubts, you gave me a chance! And four years ago, you all completely exonerated me after Spyro and I returned to Warfang. We have precedence—

"Cynder," Volteer took the chance to reply, after listening to the other three. "Your situation was different. Your corruption—Malefor's corruption was unnatural, caused by ancient, powerful magic. It was an external factor, beyond your control. The Terror of the Skies inhabited your body, and that is true, but she had never been 'you'.

"As for Joshua, he possessed this power from the beginning. As I understand it, before he approached our gates he already knew about the devastation the Unknown Element could potentially cause."

Volteer glanced at his two colleagues and brought his snout closer to Cynder, his voice dropping a couple notches down. "And you mentioned earlier he is aware of the truth, correct? About Malefor's... quarantine?"

"Correct."

"Then he is at the very least aware of what took place during the War. In fact, he may be more knowledgeable than we're giving him credit for. With this examination, then it is evident, apparent – obvious! – that he should and would have known that entering Warfang the way he did was a terrible idea in the first place."

Cynder needed help.

As much as Kilat wanted her humiliated, she couldn't afford to see her lose like this when it meant a resumed attack on Joshua Renalia. She could still hear him weeping on her shoulder, tuning out the world. Galvanized, Kilat shifted her position. While she made no move at all to physically free herself from Joshua's tight, one-armed hug, she extended both paws and stood on his shoulders, leaving the young man to bury his face on her flank.

"Well, he did it for me!" she butted in, lifting her voice a bit so they could hear her. Joshua apparently didn't care about her loud voice. "I—I, I, I mean, we planned on sneaking into the city. Somehow we'd find a way. But, b-but, he, uhm, he thought about—

Treedor looked at her. He did not smile at her. Instead, he gave her a skeptical look. "Why don't you come over here, little one?" he proposed, not seeing Cynder shake her muzzle warningly at Kilat. "You can give us a better account if you—

"No!" she shrieked. Kilat curled around the adolescent and squeezed. Her tail wrapped protectively around his shoulders. The young man hugged her tighter. "I won't leave Joshua again!"

"I swear to the Ancestors," Cyril grumbled. "This hatchling is getting on my nerves."

"Oh, please," Volteer said, almost beaming. "You're only saying that because she insulted that 'rich, cultured lineage' you're so proud of."

"Wipe that smug off your snout." He pouted at the Electric Guardian. "You just want the human and his child prodigy. Two, new, toys for the eccentric scholar to play with." Volteer began spluttering. "Don't deny it."

"W-w-why, I, I never! I'll have you know I am always mindful, conscious, aware, and attentive of my commitments, responsibilities, and obligations ahead of my personal interests!"

Kilat did not know what to make of the two. Leave them alone to each other and whatever words they said poked each other's wingspans. She might have been amused by the mutual display of annoyance if they weren't debating her hoo-man brother's execution.

"Kilat," the little girl heard her call her name. She faced Cynder, barely remembering to stay aloft in the face of her enemy. Whatever personal feelings she may have for the supposedly reformed dragoness had to be shoved aside for Joshua's well-being. She gave the she-demon the best predator gaze she could. "You were saying?" Cynder asked, preempting the two Guardians before they started bickering.

Kilat opened her mouth… only to realize she didn't know where to begin. "Errr…" A startled croak escaped her throat. She stammered in her attempts to begin her side of the story.

A condescending Cyril, still irritated by the dragoness, scoffed. "Hmph! In the end, she is still just a child."

"Let's not dismiss her that easily," replied the green dragon. "I have a feeling Ignitus wouldn't."

That name.

Ignitus.

A name Joshua Renalia had mentioned a few times on the way here, less than the digits on her paws.

A name he spoke with great respect in his voice.

That this person actually existed and how the Earth Guardian said it with the same reverence added to Joshua's credibility. Everything he told her in the Dry Canyon wasn't a lie or some wild exaggeration. But who was Ignitus again? She had been told once, but she couldn't exactly recall the details…

"Tiny wing," Treedor snapped her out of her thoughts. He scrutinized her, probably staring at the way she clung to the young man. "You said Joshua tried to go through the gates because of you. What makes you believe that?"

"He told me himself," Kilat said. She remembered the conversation they had, far in the distance, before they even set foot on the Autumn Plains. Her golden tail rose and gestured at the forest in the distance. Even from here she could still see the hill they stood on earlier this afternoon, just past the farms and the windmills. Where she and Joshua admired the view of the renowned City of Dragons. "Back over there. He said it's better than finding a way in without anyone seeing us. If the guard just, j-just let us in like he was gonna do at the beginning, we, uhm… we, w-we wouldn't be taking a, a bath in… ugh, hot water."

She hoped that came out right. Her hoo-man had this funny way of saying things that made absolutely no sense to her, and she was beginning to find the whole thing irritating. But the way they looked at each other with baffled expressions clearly told her none of them understood.

"'Hot… water'?" Volteer repeated. Slowly. "Did I, hear that right?"

Cyril barked, "You weren't the only one. I can't believe this! Why are, w-why are we even letting this hatchling talk? 'Taking a bath in hot water'?" He rolled his eyes. "That must be one of the most foolish things I've ever heard, even from a monosca—

"Excuse me," Cynder interjected. "But other species also have their own figures of speech." She sent a glare at the Ice Guardian. "I know how much pride you have in your personal history, Cyril—

"More like borderline arrogance," remarked Volteer.

"—but you are one of the last people I expect to be blinded by it."

"Y-y-yo-you," he spluttered. "You misunderstand me! Ancestors, that child—that stupid, little girl implied we, that we don't…"

Treedor silenced Cyril with one look. "And perhaps we truly don't," he said. "The Guardians are not infallible. Malefor is proof of this." Receiving no reply, the Earth Guardian turned to the little girl and addressed her again. "Can you please explain what you just said?"

Kilat shut her eyes. The task of explaining Joshua's reasons put great pressure on her shoulders, when she only knew so much. "Joshua said," she managed, "Uh, Joshua said he wouldn't, he wouldn't have to worry so much about me if the guards let us pass. Sneaking in could have been more dangerous for the… both of us?

"I, ehrm, I-I think that's what he meant, but…" Kilat shook her head. Until now, the hoo-man's reasons still confused her. "But he knew a way in! He believed we could get in without a problem. And even then… even then he still wanted to go through the gates. Ancestors, we had clear skies and steady winds ahead of us! I don't, I don't really understand why Joshua still walked up to the guards like a dumb monkey!"

"Ah." The demoness' teal eyes gleamed at her. Kilat saw a smirk form on her muzzle. "I get it now."

Her statement flummoxed the child. "Huh? You d—

Cynder cut her off. "Let's say you snuck into Warfang. What's next? Do you think you'd be able to get to talk to us that easily?"

Kilat replied, "I'd like to think—

She interrupted again. "No. You'll find the Temple heavily populated, and surrounded by guards. You'll discover the Guardians don't routinely work outside the Temple, while Spyro and I are constantly working, frequently traveling outside Warfang's borders. You'll learn our people are so traumatized by the War that anything suspicious is investigated rather quickly, and if it happens to involve an ape of any sort and a young child—a dragon missing a wing…"

"Not difficult to imagine what happens next," Volteer went forward. "Alone, Joshua might have managed a workaround for this, undesirable set of circumstances and conditions. But with a child to take care of—

"Okay!" Kilat bawled.

It was her.

Joshua Renalia had lost his ear, lost the use of his left arm, and almost been killed multiple times because of her. This unnecessary and tragic series of events resulted from his love for her.

It always came back to her in the end.

"I get it. I get it!"

She's the one who insisted on leaving Mungo Volpe with Explodon's group. She's the one who lost her wing and became a burden to Lani. She's the one who Explodon and Lani sacrificed themselves for. And now she's the one who forced Joshua to switch from a guaranteed safe flight to a turbulent passage straight through a raging thunderstorm.

Why was it always her?

"I'm the stupid one here," she sniveled. "I didn't see it the way Joshua did. I'm a silly little girl who never thinks things through."

Volteer tried to comfort her. "You're only young. Naïve. Inexperienced. That's all. You'll get better when you're older."

While Kilat gained little consolation from the Guardian's efforts, she found none at all from Cyril's glacial remark. "His reasons—however noble, however caring—are irrelevant. They ignore simple facts." The Ice Guardian stared at her, his gaze as unflinching as it was somber. He did not care if his words were evoking the child's anger.

Lacking mercy or compassion, he continued, "By my count, about 60 of the guards are dead. By my understanding, Spyro was nearly killed in public, with Cynder struck down in less than five minutes. And by my assessment, girl, the City of Dragons wants that hairless ape clinging to your scales executed for criminal negligence and terrorism."

"Cyril!" Volteer chastised. The old dragon glared at his counterpart. He didn't bother retorting. Only Kilat noticed Cynder quivering violently. "We're all painfully aware of those 'simple facts', but—

"Your oh-so-expert judgment ignores context, you damn snob!" Cynder raged at the Guardian. Her eyes narrowed. She bared her teeth, looking more and more like the demoness who obliterated her parents' treetop home. "Context you're willfully throwing away unlike the last time the Guardians flew through this crevice!

"Joshua clearly knew the risks he was taking yet he still chose what was best for Kilat! A young dragon he practically adopted. That alone changes everything! Just like the time the menacing Terror of the Skies turned into a weak, fragile victim at her defeat." The Guardians gave each other knowing glances. "Yeah, you heard me! Spyro told me how Sparx tried to talk him out of it, how all of you wanted me in chains and on death row the instant you saw him bringing me into the Temple."

Treedor stood by Cyril. "That human made a choice, Cynder. You did not."

"Do I need to repeat all the 'facts' Warfang's people keep shoving into my snout without the slightest bit of gratitude at the service I'm doing for them? All I've ever done for Malefor?"

"We have already discussed this—

"And I'm bringing it up again! ARGH! You're all so stubborn I just—

"Hey, hey, hey, heeeeey! What in the Realms is going on here?" A strange, glowing insect flew in from the sky. Kilat took note of how small it was—it might even fit in her mouth, she bet—and wondered how something so tiny can speak so thunderously its words rattled her ears. "Why is there a WARZONE in front of the gates? I don't recall telling you guys the hoo-man was a threat!"

The Electric dragoness expected the Guardians to bat the insignificant thing aside. She wouldn't put it past the Terror of the Skies to loom over it and snap her jaws to mince and devour the annoying little creature. That Treedor—wait, that wasn't exactly his name, was it?—deigned to listen surprised her. "Sparx, the way you've been jabbering and zipping around like an agitated gnat earlier, we had to gather the facts ourselves and draw our own conclusion."

Kilat remembered the insect had been with the Purple Dragon and his ma—that monster when they descended into this mess a while back. "You've got to be kidding me! For real? Of course I've been flying around like a dragonfly on nightshade, Terrador! Ol' Josh-O just barely stabilized Purple Boy when Infernus suddenly reignited the whole shitstorm like a grumpy loser-lizard just 'cause he lost the use of his cloaca!"

Cyril lurched above the dragonfly. (That name confused Kilat. It certainly bore no resemblance to an actual dragon.) "I cannot believe you. Sulfur reported that mangy ape flinging spears of 'light' at the city guard and anyone unlucky enough to be in his line of sight! Buzdag recounted how that accursed power summoned clouds of deadly gas around Cynder!"

"Blah blah blah blah blah," Sparx answered. His eyes rolled away from the Guardian, a finger rubbing at where Kilat presumed his ear would be. A crass, rude gesture. "And I bet those egg suckers made Josh-O look like some kind of evil ape king overlord terrorizing all those poor soldiers huddling together behind Infernape's big, fat, stinking bu—

An icicle rushed past Sparx. It crashed into the ground with a frightening crackle. "Shut it! Those dragons are near squireship! They swore to serve and protect the Guardians, the Guardian Candidates, and our Saviors in all and every capacity since they joined the Temple. They wouldn't dare lie to us."

"Oh I think they would," Sparx sneered. "They would if it protected the dignity and maturity of someone who lost his scales and started acting like a sore loser instead of the wise Guardian Candidate he was supposed to be."

"Except that wasn't exactly false," she stepped forward. Cynder looked at Sparx evenly, her tone more relaxed in his presence. "Joshua did kill all the archers in the vicinity with those 'spears of light', and he did envelop me in 'clouds of deadly gas', as Cyril eloquently puts it."

"W-w-wait, what! You mean he actually did try to kill—

Cynder ignored him. "But those things mean nothing if you don't account for context. That human begged everyone to stop attacking him, multiple times. Nobody listened to him and he eventually lost control of his power to his own panic!" She shifted her muzzle at the golden insect. "And no, Sparx, he wasn't. He was protecting me after I killed Rimeer in self-defense."

"But, b-but… Deadly gas!"

"Lethal to everyone but me and him. Joshua made sure of that."

"Ahhhhh." Sparx's face then lit up in a flash of epiphany, and his body literally brightened. "AHHH! That makes sense. That totally makes sense!" He nodded feverishly. "Yes, yes, yes, yes. And I'm guessing Sulfur and Buzdag left those details out?" He made some playful gestures with his arms. "Hmmm, exaggerate the intent to kill, omit a few details, and voila! It's perfect for apparently honorable 'Dragon Knights' sworn to serve and protect. Sounds totally legit!"

The sarcasm in Sparx's voice was unmistakable, and his words triggered Cyril to lose his composure and yell some more. "Never! NEVER! Multiple sources, qualified by their ranking and seniority in the Warfang Temple, confirmed Joshua as an active, malicious threat to our city, if not dragonkind or the Realms! You two are biased, emotionally compromised, and prejudiced by—

"Ugggghhh," bemoaned the insect. "Since when did Cyril start taking speech lessons from Volteer?"

Cynder countered, "You are wrong! Biased? Emotionally compromised? Prejudiced? Why don't you direct those to our people instead? To the multiple sources you're so proud of? This tragedy happened because of them!"

"But this tragedy could have been prevented if Joshua Renalia simply respected Warfang's sovereign rights," Terrador rebutted. "You don't need to bring our internal dysfunctions into this. It is clear Joshua deserves nothing less than execution for his willful negligence."

"No he doesn't! I don't want to him dead, not when Warfang itself is at fault! Joshua isn't what or who you think he is."

Cynder and Sparx stood closest to Kilat and Joshua. They were small, tiny compared to the two hostile Guardians. Yet they remained steadfast. They held their ground, relying on their reputations and arguments. They defended Joshua, and refused to yield even to the most powerful people in the City of Dragons. On the other side, Terrador and Cyril glowered down at them. They wanted their way with Kilat's hoo-man brother, and they sought his death. The Guardians of Ice and Earth had faith in their arguments and refused to believe the compromised motivations of their own people, even after the Terror of the Skies and Spyro's pet dragonfly flagrantly shoved the truth at their snouts.

Kilat felt apprehensive. Her paws curled tighter around Joshua's shoulders. Her lone wing went around his head, while her tail snaked across his arm and stayed there. The child was as protective of her brother as she could ever be, but that was all she was. A young, inexperienced dragon. She'd never be able to fend off the Guardians and their warriors if this standoff collapsed in all the wrong ways, even if she had the demoness and a noisy bug to assist her.

The dragoness felt helpless. Absolutely useless. How many times did she rely on others to save her? To rescue her from her problems? Even after Warfang's people labeled her a one-of-a-kind prodigy several times during this disaster, Kilat found herself powerless. Joshua's fate was at the mercy of this deadlock, no matter how much she wished to change this on her own.

Kilat never held an interest for the Elements in the past. Before, she viewed the thrust of "getting stronger" as a crude, brutish initiative. She found it bizarre how, in those old and forgotten days, Lani found his passion—his purpose in such a combative goal. Joshua surprised her too, when he once suggested her Element and her strength would be useful in many, many ways beyond fighting. And now, it dawned on the little girl that mastering—that sharpening her abilities to a certain point could have made big differences in her life.

Maybe she wouldn't have lost her wing. Maybe she wouldn't have lost Explodon or Lani. Maybe she'd have met Joshua at that clearing. Maybe he would have joined their group. And perhaps, were the Ancestors kind and generous with their grace, the hoo-man wouldn't have encountered so much trouble at the gates of Warfang and none of this bullshit would've happened.

Why didn't she listen to Lani and train her Element? Why didn't she take him up on his offers to spar with him? To think, after all these years, Lani was proven right in the end. How she missed that dragon. If only she could take it all back and just listen.

"I just noticed!" Sparx's voice tugged at Kilat. Pulled her out of her depressing thoughts. "I haven't heard Volty talk at all since I got back." She followed Sparx's gaze and found the Guardian of her own Element shrinking a little at the attention he began receiving from Sparx, Cynder, Treedor, and Cyril. "What happened to your blabbering mouth? Why won't you say something?"

"I… I must apologize, Sparx, but I still need to debate the pros and cons, forecast the costs and benefits, consider the advantages and—

Cyril bared his teeth and bellowed, "Damn it all, Volteer. STOP TALKING!"

Terrador eyed his peer. His green muzzle held a straight expression, devoid of the ire beleaguering Cyril's. "My friend, stand with us. You've heard our arguments and you know we are right."

"But Terrador, I need time."

"We've debated enough! I don't need to remind you of the terrible position Warfang's in. With our current immigrant flow and economic activity, if we aren't careful a vortex will appear and ground us all. With Aldozira and Skylands watching us, we cannot let that happen! Letting Joshua live only increases this risk."

"Considering what happened here, I can't disagree with you. The backlash we'll incur could very well trigger the maelstrom they are waiting for."

"What's wrong with you?" Cynder reproached them. "Joshua is innocent! He's done nothing but defend himself from our people! Killing him won't do anything about Warfang's fundamental problems. I promise you, when those get off the ground, we'll be in something bigger than that 'vortex' you're worrying about!"

"There is nothing 'fundamentally wrong' with the city!" Cyril rebutted. His tail swung into the grass and thumped the ground behind him.

Sparx butted in with another jeer, "Maybe the Guardians aren't thinking about it 'cause they'll be vacationing permanently at Dragon Shores by the time that happens."

The Ice Guardian exhaled plumes of frost out his nostrils. Volteer spoke before Cyril had the opportunity to do something. "To be fair, Joshua is nothing if not a tail risk. In the long term, he is inconsequential relative to the 'fundamental problems' Cynder mentioned. If those aren't addressed, Warfang may someday become as uncontrollable and as belligerent as the Apes were during the War, decades if not centuries from now. The Ancestors might even task Spyro's successor with the objective of destroying the city."

Sparx stared at him. He clasped his hands together, and nervously asked, "So you are…?"

"But we cannot always look so far in the future that we lose sight of the present," the Electric Guardian mused further.

"OH COME ON!" the dragonfly groused. "Pick a side already!"

"Don't pressure me! This decision is difficult, arduous, terrible enough as it is! I understand where you're both coming from, but I… I still, I still cannot make that call. I need more time to think this through."

Kilat felt Joshua stir underneath her. Her hold tightened a little more, but she didn't think anything else of it. She was too focused on the argument to notice him opening his eyes. She did not even see the spheres vanish, the purple haze they produced fading away with them.

Cyril stomped the ground. "You are a Guardian!" He glared angrily at him. "It is your duty—your privilege to make these decisions. You of all people know we do not always have the luxury of time. Now stand with us—stand with your peers, and let's all kill that monkey together!"

Cynder delivered her last stand in a calm voice. "Volteer, you know this is wrong. Joshua is a good person, and he is innocent. We cannot sacrifice someone like him just because his life threatens our internal stability. We need to focus on the real problems; hiding the bad eggs won't stop them from hatching."

Volteer's wings wilted. Tail curling around his own flank, the old dragon backed away from the group. "I… I don't… I haven't…"

He shook his head, peering into their eyes one at a time. His gaze fell on Terrador. On Sparx. On Cyril. On the demon dragoness. "I, I-I-I… you can't, y-you can't make me—can't compel me to… to just, j-j-j-j-just…"

Volteer ogled Kilat and Joshua. "…blatantly, flagrantly, brazenly disregard my, m-my standards of, pro-professional conduct." He looked conflicted, staring at the little girl and her cobalt eyes. "We're not, w-we're not at war. I can take my time."

The Earth Guardian finally snarled at him. Volteer jumped. "A-another minute. I, I-I need another minute! A little bit more time to think—

"S-Spyro…"

Someone interrupted him. A new voice. A person who hadn't participated in the conversation until now. But as Kilat's eyes raced across the scene, she realized that no one, from all the dragons watching the heated dispute, had approached the Guardians and the famed Heroes of the Dragon Realms.

"Volteer, where, w-where's Spyro?"

Only then did the child prodigy decide to look down, back at her companion. She discovered, to her astonishment, Joshua no longer wept on her flank and shut out the entire world around them. With his cheeks still wet and his eyes a little red, the boy regarded the conflicted dragon and asked, "Is he, going to be o-okay?"

The Guardian did not answer. He gaped at the adolescent. Volteer did not know what to tell him. Not even Kilat expected Joshua to ask about the Purple Dragon after he calmed down and recovered enough of his own sanity.

Sparx's reaction was swift. He whipped out a thumbs-up in their direction. A good sign; Kilat only knew what this meant because of the few times Joshua had done the very same and explained away. "Purple Boy's going to be just fine, Josh-O!"

"R-really?"

"Would I lie to you?" He grinned before grimacing. "No, wait, don't answer that! But seriously, that purple lump's in good hands now. I've mobilized a bunch of people before Volty dropped him off at the medical center." He grinned again and babbled, "They're confident they can fix him up, and quick! I'll admit, moles and rhynocs know their stuff. Sure, I know a lot less techno-magic-mumbo-jumbo than they do, but if they say they can do it, I've no reason to doubt them."

Kilat watched relief instantly wash over Joshua's face. "Thank God," he said. He buried his face on her scales, burrowing again into her side. "Thank f*cking God he'll be okay."

The child glanced down, regarding her brother with concern. Without an afterthought, she bent her forelegs and lowered herself, so she could nuzzle his cheek tenderly. "Joshua…"

He did not say anything in reply, not for a few seconds. "Kilat?"

"I'm here."

If Joshua had something to tell her, he did not get a chance to say it. Volteer usurped his chance to reply. "I've made my decision," he pronounced, and loudly. Kilat watched the Guardian spread his wings. With two powerful flaps, he rose to the air…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

…and landed next to Cynder and Sparx.

"Woooo!" The dragonfly cheered and flipped in the air. "Reptile of the daaaaaaay!"

Cynder possessed more grace. "Thank you, Volteer. You have my gratitude."

"You, y-y-y-you," Cyril spluttered. "D-do you know what you, what you've just done?" The plumes of frost flowing from his nostrils expanded in intensity, matched only by his furious scowl. Utter disbelief colored his eyes, infusing the dragon's terrifying expression. "That, that is the stupidest, dumbest thing I've ever seen a Guardian do."

"My decision is final, ol' chap."

"Don't 'ol' chap' me, Volteer," Cyril rebuffed. He turned away from the adult dragon. "Go fly in a volcano! You've gone insane."

Terrador approached him. Though his countenance did not look as angry or astonished as the other Guardian, Kilat easily discerned his disappointment from his slow plodding and subdued body. "Why? You know what we'll have to do next. The consequences…"

Volteer did not answer immediately. He turned and eyeballed Joshua for a few moments. "His selflessness moved me." He looked back at Terrador. His old friend. "We were fighting over what could potentially, possibly, more than likely be his death sentence, but instead of defending himself he asked about Spyro the second he regained enough composure to speak."

"…That sounds like something Ignitus would say."

"Maybe that's because he did? Cynder is right about one thing. This feels, similar—identical—no, analogous to the time we debated her freedom seven years ago. Eerily so!" He took a deep, calming breath. "And Ignitus—bless his soul—was right about her."

Terrador chuckled. "He's been dead for four years and we're still following his lead." He heaved a weary sigh. "I hope we aren't making a mistake with Joshua here…"

"I have my doubts too, but I prefer to look ahead in a more… glowing light."

He grunted, "If anything happens, it will be your responsibility."

"Ostensibly. I do not expect anything less."

Cynder's voice rang across the windswept hills before the Eastern Gates. The dragoness was in the air, looking down at the ensemble of soldiers gathered below her. Stridently, she shouted, "Ground yourselves! This is over. I have arrived at a mutual agreement with the Guardians. Joshua Renalia shall not be harmed! I repeat, the furless ape will not be harmed. We will take him and his companion into the city for investigation."

This announcement was not received with fanfare and celebration.

"What…? But, but what about the people he's killed?"

"He murdered my mate! You can't do this. YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

"'Investigation'? That's dragon dung!"

"Infernus is dead. Infernus, a Guardian Candidate! And you're letting the APE that killed him and everyone else go free?"

Someone screeched. "He killed my father! I want justice! JUSTICE!"

"Go suck an egg, Cynder!"

"We can't accept—

A shower of soil and stone burst from the ground in front of them. It exploded violently, revealing the form of the Earth Guardian. Terrador rose, the aura of his Element surrounding him. "GROUND YOURSELVES! That is an order!"

Kilat watched the crowd suddenly turn quiet at his command. Even the dragons in flight touched down and stayed on the ground, if reluctantly. With one forceful bark, he accomplished what Cynder, Joshua, and Kilat all failed to do. She was amazed at the amount of respect and loyalty a Guardian received. There were no words for it.

"I understand your aversions, and personally I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. But as reluctant as I am to accept it, through much deliberation we determined the furless ape is not responsible for this unfortunate tragedy. The late Guardian Candidate Infernus proved himself prejudiced, manipulative, and vengeful beyond reason. He acted without the maturity and character appropriate for his station and forced us all into this mess. Rimeer, a Senior Fellow, acted no differently. Instead of keeping the peace, when he saw the opportunity he perpetuated the maelstrom and discreetly tried to assassinate one of the Saviors with the full intent of pinning the blame on the furless ape. All for a personal grudge. It is only because of the furless ape that he failed and was even killed in the attempt."

A cold chill swept over the dragons listening to him. Doubtlessly this news would circulate throughout Warfang later today.

"Rimeer was a conspirator?"

"I always, I, I always knew Infernus had something up in his cloaca but nothing like this!"

"All those people… died because of them?"

"H-how could we let this happen?"

"Because of those trash?"

"…the furless ape saved Cynder? A Savior?"

"Didn't she try to kill him?"

"Wait. His power. His power! We can't ignore him."

"Forget about him! We have bigger things to think about."

"Quiet!" Cyril roared. "QUIIIEEETT!" The Guardian had taken to the skies himself. A cold gleam coated his eyes, and for a second there Kilat believed he might have just been tempted to vent out on the other dragons. Like Terrador before him, his command silenced the murmuring. "If you want to chatter hopelessly like a clutch of hatchlings, do it after we dismiss you. For now, be at ease, await further commands, and most importantly, all of you remain silent! But rest assured, your concerns will be investigated thoroughly. I will approach you individually and…"

Kilat tuned him out. She looked away from the scene and nuzzled Joshua, again. "It's over, Joshua. It's finally over!"

He shifted. "It, it is?" She still heard some residual disbelief in there.

"Mhm!" She nodded happily.

Looking back over the past week, Joshua whined a lot. He grumbled. He complained. He nagged like an old, senile fox. Didn't matter if he stumbled on a rock during their descent into the Dry Canyon, if he couldn't get a fire started, if a bored little girl jumped him from behind, or if he said something weird. Whatever happened, somehow his vexed mouth never ran out of words to throw out at the most random of accidents. If he wasn't too busy losing his scales, her caretaker—her brother was always full of energy. Even the good things—the fortunate things brought out an expressive reaction out of him.

Kilat was stunned to see Joshua so numb. The adolescent regarded her for a few moments, before he curled his only working arm around her and cried on her gold scales.

Didn't he believe her? Couldn't he tell how relieved, how happy she was? Was he actually aware of what just happened?

"You're safe now," Kilat repeated, her voice reassuring. "You're safe. Everything's gonna be alri—

"It's not over. There'll be more." His sniffling reached her ears. "There'll always be more. I, I-I-I can't—I don't…"

Her head drooped. "Joshua…"

"Th-t-t-t-this, f-f*cking video game isn't worth it. I… I…"

Joshua must be delusional if he was rambling nonsense. Rimeer, Infernape, the Purple Dragon, that demon, the Guardians, and all the other people who attacked him… they must have left a mark. Surely they did. Kilat let out a sad whimper and licked his cheek, her tongue sweeping across his face. She did it again, for as many times as she believed was needed.

The boy calmed down after a minute or so. Kilat couldn't really tell. But his words troubled her. "Don't leave me," he said. He begged. "Please don't leave me, Kilat. Please."

She nuzzled him. "I'm here," the child promised. "I'll always be with you."

He snuffled. "I… I love you."

The dragoness nipped Joshua's only ear. "I love you, too." Shutting her eyes, Kilat relished the peace and quiet they had at last. The conflict was over, and for sure, the two of them were going to see Warfang at last. Together. The little dragon-girl hoped the city would live up to Explodon's glowing promises.

Kilat did not know how long they remained like that, hugging each other for dear life, clinging like anything—anyone could separate them at any given moment. For a while there, she thought she was going to lose another adoptive brother, but praise the Ancestors that never happened.

And like all good things in the world, they always came to an end.

The child heard the damned butcher call her hoo-man's name. "Joshua?"

Hearing the voice caused the teenager to jump. "Are you okay now?" Cynder prodded, her cadence slow and soft.

Kilat opened her eyes. The dreadful wisps of energy and the holes in the world had all but vanished. She saw the evil demoness ambling towards them, well within what used to be the Unknown Element's dead space. Seeing the monster closing in brought an instinctive growl out of the child's throat.

The Terror of the Skies—for that's all she'd ever be—stopped at the sound and looked at Kilat.

Sparx, of course, heard nothing and kept flying on. "Ohhhhh Spirits! Praise the Spirits! I'm so glad it's finally over!"

If Joshua Renalia caught it, he made no indication. "Cynder?" The young man set Kilat down before she knew what was happening. To her fright, the child watched the hoo-man throw himself at the Terror of the Skies. "Oh my god! Cynder!"

Trepidation assailed her heart and a raw fear clawed at her as she saw Joshua lift his one useful arm and wrap it around Malefor's General. Flashes of that gargantuan winged monster murdering her parents in cold blood and forcing their children and friends into a sick, repulsive game assaulted her. It took all of Kilat's self-control to stop herself from attacking the ebony dragoness before she raised her paw and…

Before she raised her paw and…

What in the Realms…?

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!" Joshua had that, t-that she-demon in a tight, a desperately tight embrace. The act caught Cynder completely off-guard. She stiffened at the way the teenager—her brother—vigorously snuggled to those ebony scales. "Just when I'd given up on everything, you came through for me. You really followed through on your promise. I don't know what you told the Guardians, but, I'm still alive. Still alive…"

Cynder did not look like she shared Joshua's jubilation. Extreme discomfort coursed through her entire body. Had Kilat been more observant—more neutral—she would have noted Cynder's restraint. A great restraint not to shove the teenager weeping on her scales and enveloping the black dragoness in a passionate embrace.

"I'm sorry I was a little late, Joshua," said the supposed Savior. Her voice miraculously showed none of her uneasiness. "The Spirit Gems took a while to heal my injuries. Volteer even tried to stop me. They all did, actually."

"…At least they listened in the end."

Cynder conceded, "I can't disagree. Honestly, you won them over when you asked about Spyro."

"I wouldn't have had that chance if it wasn't for you, Cyn. I, I'm, I-I'm eternally grateful for your help."

"You're welcome."

Joshua's one-armed hug tightened. Cynder's awkward expression worsened. Kilat's entire body quivered, overcome by an emotion she couldn't define. A feeling associated with rage and jeal—no, not jealousy. With betrayal.

And incomprehension.

"Sooooo…."

Why? After all she did to him? After all she's done? Why? Why did Joshua treat that, that monster like, like she was… like she was his greatest—

"Ehhrrrm, Joshua? I'd like it if you could—

"OOOOOOHHH!"

Joshua jolted and impulsively released the long, slender neck, to Kilat's and Cynder's relief. He shoved himself away from the black dragoness, horrified, but that did not stop Sparx from pressing on, flying around like the annoying insect he was. "What is this, what is thiiiiissss!"

Cynder warned, "Sparx…"

"I turn away for a sec and next thing I knew, I suddenly see Josh-O drooling all over Cynder!"

"N-n-no," Joshua stammered. "No, no, no! That isn't what you think it is!"

He replied sing-song. "With suuuuuch a tender and sweet embrace!"

"It's not what you think it is!"

"Gee, a bald monkey going after the ol' Terror? Spyro's mate? Nope. Not gonna happen. He's gonna kiiiiilll you!"

A pair of black jaws snapped over him, trapping the dragonfly in Cynder's mouth. Kilat saw the golden light faintly illuminating her muzzle and heard the hysterical screams from within. "AHHH! No-no-no, don't eat me! Don't eat meeeee! Don't—eew! Ew-ew-ew-ew! My wings! My shiny, beautiful wings! My—mmmff!"

Cynder, her snout still shut, rolled her eyes in irritation and shook her head. Kilat watched her cheeks bulge and pulse a little from the insect's muffled struggling.

"Uhhhhh," Joshua ogled her, his green eyes revealing his anxiety. "Why—? You aren't going to eat him, are you?"

"—tell Spyro you're gonna reg—BLARGH! I'm not some piece of meat you can just—

Cynder unceremoniously pushed poor Sparx into her cheek and left him there. "No worries. I used to do this all the time until he stopped snubbing me like all the other ingrates."

"But, he's Spyro's brother."

"He tolerates it as long as I don't really hurt—guh!"

Her maw suddenly gave way. The dragonfly flew out in a golden blur, slobber dribbling profusely from him. "Spirits. Oooohhhh spirits, finally out of that nasty place!" He spat several times at the ground and sent a glare of utter disgust at Cynder. "And you're a LIAR! Three years ago, you nearly swallowed me!"

"When will you let it go, Sparx? That was just a joke!"

"You don't joke around with something that might kill someone!"

She frowned. "Hey! Tempting as it sounds, I'd never go that far. I'm not that cruel."

Sparx did his best to look intimidating. The dragonfly growled at her as he wiped off the last of the muck still clinging to his body.

"It's just punishment," the dragoness said with an innocent smirk. "That's all."

Kilat didn't trust that grin. The Terror of the Skies was an evil, malevolent demon through and through. She knew Cynder would have devoured the insect in a wingbeat if given the chance. Mash the noisy thing into yellow paste, to great satisfaction. It was obvious the Purple Dragon held her back. After all, the scheming demoness would certainly want the Hero of the Dragon Realms to keep thinking of her as someone who recently "hatched again"…

"…You can just kiss my gold—

"Oh shit!" Joshua Renalia abruptly shrunk beneath Cynder. He clung to her, cowering under her breast. Kilat smelled his fear and reacted by trotting to his side, quick to wrap her tail around his thigh. The child found it extremely uncomfortable to stand next to the murderer who wiped out their home, but she did not show her distress. She held it in. Suppressed it.

Because she couldn't display weakness before the Earth Guardian, who towered above all three of them. His lips were curved downward in that usual, stern expression. His deep voice rumbled with no emotion. "You may relax," he eyed the hoo-man. "After much," Terrador paused and glanced at Cynder, "persuasion, the Guardians have decided to exercise some leniency due to disturbing facts we came across."

His words did not come across as sincere to Kilat. She tensed, tail curling on Joshua's ankle. Cynder visibly bristled at the remark.

"However, we cannot pretend your power didn't kill all those people. Their loved ones need to be told something, and Joshua, you must be held accountable."

Joshua gazed up at him. "But, but-but-b-b-but, it wasn't my fault! They're the ones—!"

"Yes, Warfang equally shares the blame." After that exchange just minutes ago, Kilat could barely imagine how the Guardian said that with his muzzle the way it was. "We… I realize there were so many ways we could've avoided this unfortunate tragedy. The possibilities are endless, yet every variable aligned perfectly and delivered this misfortune and much heartbreak with it. But we cannot change the past. What's done is done; we can only move forward."

Kilat turned and looked at Joshua. She tried to ignore the way he still latched onto the dark monster, his visage guarded. "Move forward?" He echoed. "What, are you saying?"

"A compromise," suggested the old Earth dragon. "We will defer your judgment and detain you instead. The Guardians shall conduct a formal investigation into this incident and unearth the truth from all the lies and bigotry—

"You're gonna put me on trial?" Joshua repeated, horrified. "Are you f*cking serious, dude? Haul me to f*cking prison—

Cynder placated, "Calm down."

"—so I can be on a goddamn kangaroo court that'll condemn me to death!"

Kilat did not know what a 'kangaroo court' was, but it sounded like very bad news. "You'll what!"

"I said calm down!" Cynder placed a paw on the hoo-man's shoulder. "That's—

Seeing the evil, corrupted monster rest those disgusting pads of hers on Joshua and pretend to care incensed the child. She leaped and butted the arm out of the way. The Terror of the Skies finally stepped back from Joshua. Kilat bared her fangs and growled, "You're lying!" Her right wing flared, entire body shifting into the defensive. "You're all lying!"

"You're jumping to conclusions!" Cynder argued back.

"Ancestors, I—we shouldn't have trusted you in the first—

The dragonfly was back, circling them like a cockroach. "Hate to say it, you two, but Cyn's right!" He raised an arm and sniffed himself. "Ugh, damn it. I still smell like dragon spit…"

Sparx's dismissal was like a breath of air on the smoldering embers of a campfire. If he was so worried about that, Kilat might as well give him something better to think about. If only she could reach him. The stupid insect would think differently in her stomach.

But killing him right there would definitely feel just as good. One solid blast of electricity: that was all the girl needed. Kilat steeled herself. She reached into her reserves of mana and—

"Fasten your wings, little ones!" Volteer said, approaching the group. "Ground yourselves before you do something crazy." The Electric Guardian bowed—he bowed his large head at Kilat's adoptive brother. A submissive gesture that disarmed the little girl. "Joshua Renalia, you misunderstand, misinterpret, misapprehend our intentions, objectives, purposes, grand designs—

"Jesus Christ, just get to the f*cking point already!"

Terrador spoke a split-second faster than Volteer, "We already know you acted out of self-defense, and eventually lost control of yourself. I'll say it again: Warfang, caused, this. The city also bears responsibility."

"Then why bother—

"Because it needs to be proven in public. Just because we know what really happened doesn't mean everyone will believe us. The truth needs to get out there, or the families of the dead—the people of Warfang will never be at peace while you still breathe."

"Oh." Joshua looked away. Kilat couldn't read his face.

"Do you understand?"

"I… I understand."

An indignant young dragoness raised her voice. "He doesn't have to prove anything to anyone!" Kilat railed, "Those people can all suck eggs! This isn't fair. Why does Joshua need to go through that?" She faced them. "He's had enough! He's—

"It's either that or permanent exile," Volteer apprised. "The furless ape will never be allowed to even approachour walls. Now, I wouldn't be wrong in conjecturing that isn't what either of you wish, correct? Both of you are looking for something in the City of Dragons."

"Yes, but…!" Kilat faltered. "But-it's-not… it's not right. It isn't right…"

"Tiny wing, did your parents ever teach you the evils of Free Will? The paradox of Fundamental Dualism and Self-Deception as a natural coping mechanism?"

Seeing Kilat's confusion, Cynder criticized the elder dragon. "Volteer, you expect a child to know this? I'm almost an adult and I still cannot understand some of the things that go out of your snout."

"Not with the verbiage tossed casually around by philosophers like myself, Cynder. But a child her age—I estimate this little one is a few years shy of adolescence—a child her age would have certainly had her beliefs challenged, confronted, defied by reality.

"Kilat, right?" Volteer focused on her. She replied with a nod. "Did you ever think that this problem would be swept away if the Guardians decreed Joshua innocent?"

"Of course! You're like the village elders! You're old, wise, sagacious… I, I-I-I mean, you all know a lot and everyone listens to you because of it."

"Ahhhh, it warms me to see such sweet innocence." Volteer sighed and made a tender smile. He held it for a few seconds. "I'm sorry little one, but the truth is, simply because the Guardians—any authority figure, really—decreed something does not mean everyone who hears it will take those words at face value. People of all species have the freedom to think, to believe what they want to believe. They will argue—they will conceive logical reasons that validate those beliefs and act on them.

"I suppose this sounds like useless trivia to you, but think a little and apply that to your position. Imagine a scenario where, somehow, the Guardians and the Saviors both declare Joshua free. Faultless. Blameless. Yet all of Warfang wants his head. What do you think will happen next?"

Kilat did not answer. The answer was so obvious. Her muzzle flushed from shame, because in the back of her mind, knew the things she said in Joshua's defense made her a hypocrite. The child prodigy closed her eyes and wrenched her gaze down, to hide the tears that were starting to come out again.

They equated Kilat's silence with her assent. She heard the group around her move. Terrador asked a couple dragons to fetch some guards of Joshua's size from inside the city, before leaving the two of them with Volteer, Cynder, and Sparx to update his colleague Cyril and do whatever he needed to do.

"Heeeyyy broooo!" she heard Sparx call out to the Electric Guardian. "Love to know you decided to stick it out with me and the Evil One over there"—a snap—"Whoa-ho-ho! Not getting me this time! So tell me, Volty, what really made you side with us? I'm willing to bet your 'intellectual curiosity' got the better of you, eh?"

"Please, Sparx, you know I am above such banal, socially insensitive motivations. My moral fiber is unrelenting, unyielding…"

Cynder sighed.

"Hey." Kilat felt Joshua poke her neck. He nudged her closer to him. "Come here."

She let the teenager pull her close before leaping on his chest. She clung to what was left of his tattered shirt. "It's not fair. It's not fair…"

His hand played with her ears. Caressed her horns. "I know… But, i-it's fine. It'll all work out—

"No, it's not okay!" She saw right through his wishful thinking. "Why? Why are you agreeing to this? I don't care what the city thinks! You shouldn't—

"Kilat, if we're going to stay here, I need to let their legal system—

"Then let's not stay here," she urged him, trying to keep her voice as low as possible so Cynder couldn't hear her. "We don't need Warfang. Let's look for your people together! Just you and me!" The idea made so much sense to her. There were other hoo-mans in the Realms. Maybe they're so far away that they've never known another species. Maybe their amazing electric technologies concealed them so thoroughly nobody in the Realms ever knew about them. But if they were out there, they couldn't stay in this city. It would be an utter dead-end. "I'll follow you wherever you go. Who knows what'll happen? Maybe the Ancestors will lead us to other hoo-mans next week!"

"But—

"I don't need to know about my family," Kilat almost choked at her words. It hurt to say it. "What's the use?" She conceded, "They're gone. T-they're all dead. I… I don't have anyone else, Joshua." The child stared into his viridian eyes, willing him to listen, to spare himself the trouble and walk away from it all. Away from Warfang. Away from the Purple Dragon and the Terror of the Skies. Away from the city and all the people who would rather lie to themselves than accept an inconvenient truth. "You're all I have."

They maintained eye contact for a long time, not speaking a word. Kilat wished she knew what the adolescent was thinking. Just like the first time they met, she couldn't read the intent in his gaze. He could go in either direction, it seemed. His eyes looked hollow, like he was too busy debating the idea in his head. Yet the hoo-man gazed directly into Kilat's cobalt eyes.

He did not even look away when he finally spoke. "I'm touched," Joshua said. "The feeling is mutual. You mean a lot to me, too, and I'm happy you think of me like that." She began to smile, believing her pleading finally got through to the teenager.

Only for his next words to cut her down. "But I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I, need Warfang. Finding my way home isn't as simple as that. Wandering the world until we stumble into it will not work. I need their help."

"You don't even know that! We just have to try—

"Don't bother. I know for sure. I will never, ever be wrong on that one."

Kilat did not ask him where this assertion came from. Joshua evaded her questions whenever she tried to dig deeper into his story. He always did, and knowing how transparent he was in all other times, this behavior baffled her. That was the one thing he'd never trust her on, but she hoped, someday, that Joshua would be willing to let her in on his secrets.

"Okay," the little girl finally gave up. He was set on entering Warfang. Talking Joshua out of it was impossible. "Okay… If that's really what you want to do," she said, snuggling on him. "I can't stop you. But I'll always be with you."

"…Same here…"

---

Thirty minutes had passed before the Earth Guardian returned, with the two Senior Fellows he sent out each carrying two guards on their backs. From the air, he eyed the afternoon sun. A few hours from dusk, it bathed the sky orange, and it was dark enough for him to see the twin moons of the Dragon Realms cresting the horizon. A sight that would amaze the novice astronomer, for sure.

Terrador left Cyril at the Warfang Temple, after delegating the responsibility of enhancing security and preparing the "accommodations" to the Ice Guardian. There was no need to worry about sabotage from him. Despite his misgivings about keeping the human alive, he took great pride in his honor and it showed in his efforts, in the devotion he's demonstrated for decades. If he was infuriated by the fact he and Terrador got beaten in a majority vote, Cyril had the grace and political mastery to hide his disagreement completely.

With two of the Guardians back at the Temple, they took the opportunity to visit Spyro in his room. Terrador and Cyril saw him surrounded by machines beyond their understanding, tended to by the best medical experts in the city, magical and otherwise. The team lead gave them his full confidence in the Purple Dragon's recovery by the end of the week. It lightened the burden that had settled on the elders' shoulders, but it did not eradicate the weight.

Terrador worried about Joshua Renalia. In his mind, he reviewed the planned route. Aware of the city districts it would pass through, the sort of people who would watch the procession, and potential security gaps that Cyril may end up overlooking. If he had to be honest with himself, a quick flight to the Warfang Temple would have bypassed this stressful problem. But having worked with Volteer for so long, Terrador could almost imagine the Electric Guardian chastising him for mistakenly prioritizing short-sightedness and convenience above what was necessary.

The Guardians needed to show the City that they successfully subdued the furless ape with little casualty to their elite squadrons. That Joshua will be used as an example, to demonstrate the right way to serve justice: not through quick decisions but through due process. They needed a grand display of Warfang's strength and solidarity.

They needed a procession.

Terrador swooped down and, in a smooth, elegant fashion, landed just by the eastern gates. Giving succinct instructions to the squadron leaders, two-thirds of the Guardians' personal guards dispersed into the city to execute the logistics. With that taken care of, the four guards disembarked from the Senior Fellows and accompanied him, carrying the restraints.

A hilarious sight awaited him at the top of the hill. Volteer stood on his haunches, his eyes tracking Sparx as he engaged the dragonfly in some sort of debate. Cynder had laid down a short distance away, and from the way she had her head tucked into her body, Terrador guessed their conversation must have gone on long enough to drain her patience. He found Joshua reclined comfortably on the side of the hill, a wingspan away from Cynder. He had the little girl wrapped in his only functioning arm, and from what Terrador could see, the furless ape truly loved the child. It was very difficult to believe those two met only a week ago.

Joshua was the first to notice his return. He rose to his feet, his stance wobbling. The Earth dragon eyed the sorry state of his body. Most of the cuts and wounds on his body have clotted, but from how they looked, they bore great risk of infection. His left arm dangled uselessly by his side. His left ear was gone, replaced with an unsightly gash. Cynder raised her head not long after that, while Volteer and Sparx continued their playful quarreling until Terrador's footfalls rumbled loud enough to interrupt them.

"We're back," he said. With a wing he gestured to the four guards walking next to him. Two moles, a cheetah, and an atlawa. "Joshua, these four will be putting on your restraints."

"After," Cynder stepped between them, "You make sure he can walk. The city is big and I don't want him falling down."

The tall llama genuflected before her. "Your Grace," he intoned respectfully, "we did not bring any equipment for first aid. We were told we can perform all the necessary procedures at the Temple."

She rolled her eyes. "Figures. Do you at least carry Spirit Gems?"

"Yes, b-but only dragons—

"Don't worry about it. Joshua can use them."

Terrador heard the very same from the other witnesses but he never had the opportunity to see it for himself. He had trouble believing it; only dragons could draw out the latent power held by the crystals. The Apes needed Malefor's power to provide a conduit, while the Moles relied on technology that could harvest the energy, but at a fraction of the efficiency.

He watched the atlawa knight reach into a pouch strapped to his waist and pull out a red Spirit Gem. His eyes betraying his doubts, he offered the scarlet crystal to Joshua Renalia, who took it without hesitation. Like he already expected—

Terrador's eyes widened the instant the Spirit Gem turned gray. He traced the crimson lines of power running through the human, watched them converge on his injuries. He really could use the crystals, like a dragon! Joshua grunted from the pains of magical healing, but something was wrong. The wounds weren't closing, and his left arm wasn't getting better…

"That's Diminishing Absorption!" Volteer exclaimed. "The more a dragon uses the Spirit Gems in a single day, the—

"—the less effective they would be," finished Terrador with a grunt. He gazed at the Savior. "Sorry, Cynder. Looks like Joshua will have to get better the natural way."

Turning to the furless ape, "Can you walk?"

"Y-yeah. Somewhat."

"'Somewhat' will be good enough for now. All right! Restrain him."

Joshua allowed the four guards to approach. All of them hesitated. Understandable, considering the sixty bodies the Guardians' squadrons had gathered and neatly arranged nearby, and the multiple injured being carried back into Warfang. Still, their professionalism and training took over. Terrador did not need to tell them to focus on their job. Kilat gave them space to wrap the human's arms in rope and then shackle them with metal braces. As they began to shackle his legs, another brought out more chains and draped them around Joshua's chest to immobilize his arms.

The discomfort and ache of being restrained began to show. Yet the furless ape made an incredible effort to hide his suffering. It impressed Terrador. By now most people would have engaged in vain, futile struggles to fight off the guards and remove their restraints.

Privately, Joshua asked the Guardian to make sure Kilat trailed the procession from behind. He did not want Warfang to associate her with him in any way. It was amazing, how he could still be thinking of another person in his situation.

Unfortunately the child herself refused to leave him.

"No! Noooooooo! Let me stay!"

Several times she tried to run around the guards and stay beside the furless ape, and several times she found herself blocked with the cheetah's metal armor and lithe body. "Keep your distance," the guard said. "From here on out, your companion will be treated no differently from a malevolent criminal. This is for your own—

"I don't caaaaaaare!" The angry look in her eyes and the livid growls rushing out of her throat indicated her building frustration. Terrador expected the stubborn girl to escalate and begin employing force. He glanced at Joshua, who had been silent all this time and refused to say anything as the four guards began leading him towards the City of Dragons. He wasn't looking at Kilat. Not at all. His troubled mien, in fact, gave him away. "He needs me with—YOWWW!"

Cynder slammed her paw on the child's tail. "Please, Kilat. It's better this way," she said, entreating to her best interests. "Stay in the back. Away from him. You're supposed to be Joshua's victim, not his accomplice."

"Warfang can go f*ck itself! I don't care what they think!" She swatted at Cynder's paw, but the black dragoness endured her blows. She even dropped her weight on Kilat, restricting her more. That did not stop her from squirming. "Ancestors, I only want to be with my brother! I'm not asking for a lot here."

She brought her nuzzle close to the child's. "I'm sorry, but you need to endure this." Cynder emphasized, I'm sorry for everything."

Kilat reacted with murderous snarls. Sparks of electricity started forming around the dragoness. Her expression was so vicious Terrador suddenly felt the need to intervene. The last thing he wanted to do was beat up a troublesome little girl until she couldn't move. "Cynder! Let her be. She can do whatever she wants."

"We can't do that! Joshua wants us to protect her—

"If the girl really wants to be with the human, despite the consequences, then so be it. Stopping her is pointless."

"All right," Cynder acquiesced, and released her.

Kilat did not hesitate to kick Cynder's snout at first opportunity. It was so strong it drew blood. She rose on all fours and backed away. But instead of sprinting towards Joshua as Terrador anticipated, she glowered at the black dragoness, the rage in her eyes palpable enough for anyone to think the child prodigy might have attacked one of the famed heroes of the Dragon Realms.

"Keep your dumb apologies, demon!" Kilat condemned her. "You burned down my home. You butchered my family! Joshua's all I have left and I almost lost him because you didn't do anything to stop the Guardians. I had to make the first move! Not, you! I don't know—I'll never understand why he defends you, why he thanks you, why he thinks you and the Purple Dragon are so good that he worships you both at your feet!"

Cynder froze, absorbing every bit of Kilat's hate.

"I hate you. I hate you!" The little girl rudely spat on the ground in front of Cynder. "You're not heroes. Not to me. You never will!"

Without looking back at the Savior of the Dragon Realms she dashed towards Joshua, enveloped in golden wisps of lightning. Even in a fit of rage she displayed amazing control. The yellow cloak wouldn't do anything beyond stinging people who got in her way. Volteer was trying too hard to hide his excitement. It was so obvious her natural skill mesmerized him. It wouldn't surprise Terrador even a little bit if he named her a Guardian Candidate tomorrow morning.

He watched Kilat leap onto the human and roost on his back. She rested her head on his shoulder. The Earth Guardian could not hear the two from here, but he hoped Joshua Renalia had something to say to her. His muzzle turned to Cynder. The Heroine had her head down, her wings curled in on themselves and her entire body wilted, from a sadness he had never seen in a long time.

In her life of service, Cynder endured the anger and ridicule from the people of Warfang for years. Everything she's been through in the past blessed her with the confidence and self-regard that she never had seven years ago, in the weeks leading up to the Eternal Night. Had one of the immigrants lashed out at her the way Kilat did, Cynder would've shaken her head and moved on. She would have stayed strong. She might have cursed back, too.

Right now her strength had all but fizzled. In that moment, Terrador saw the Cynder who was beleaguered by guilt, the same Cynder who left the Temple in the dead of the night.

Sparx blanched at this. He did not know what to do. "I, I, I-I-I… I think I'm gonna go check on Purple Boy for a bit. Maybe he's woken up already." He zipped away, as fast as his wings could take him. Terrador couldn't blame him. Spyro's brother simply did not possess the wisdom of old age.

Volteer sat down on his haunches next to Cynder, his eyes downcast from sympathy. He remained silent, opting to console the Savior with his presence. The Earth Guardian chose to sit down on the other side. "That was harsh," he said.

Cynder did not say anything for a while. "…They never forget."

Terrador let her speak. "Rimeer said that: people will never forget. They'll never forget what I did. I will always be the 'Terror of the Skies' to them. Kilat... she hates me. That dragon will always hate me. If, i-if a child like her thinks I'm an irredeemable beast…"

The adult dragon lowered one of his wings. He draped it across the black dragoness ogling the ground, demoralized. "Will, will other children… will they look at me the same way?"

.

.

.

"…You're a good person." Terrador sighed, "Everyone who truly knows you knows this." His gaze focused on Kilat before panning across the hills, scrutinizing the early stages of the procession and the dragons preparing for it. "The fact many people still treat you like that means you have not done enough, and not for a long enough time." He studied Cynder, locking with her troubled eyes.

"I've been doing this for years." She moped. "Every time I think I made some progress, all of a sudden, something happens and all that work is gone. I feel like this torture will never end."

"Don't give up. Don't ever give up." He placed a paw on top of hers and rubbed it. "Warfang may never forget, but someday, its people will forgive you." Terrador gave the young adult an encouraging smile. "Even a child's fury will fade, given time and good deeds." He chuckled, "I don't need to be Ignitus or Spyro to tell you that."

Cynder, though obviously unsure about it, returned her elder's grin anyway. "I'm not a quitter," she said. Quipping, "Wouldn't be wanted by two Purple Dragons otherwise."

"Indeed." Another pause. Terrador took this time to study the furless ape. He was in position. They should be going soon. "So what are your thoughts on Joshua? Among all of us, you're the only one who had an opportunity to talk to him."

It didn't take long for her to answer. "He's young," she said. "A little naïve. He's got a good heart in there, and a sound mind. A few years ago Sparx told me Spyro used to be like that. It's just too bad he's cursed with that terrible power."

"Are his species also like that? …Dangerous?"

"Thank the Ancestors, no. But I want to learn more about humanity. Joshua clearly knows things that aren't known to the public; he did call me 'his hero', and from what I've seen he's the type who'd try to help others whenever the opportunity presented itself. Maybe the rest of his kind are the same way…"

"You two should worry more about Joshua himself." Volteer broke his silence. "Surely his appearance here means something, doesn't it?"

"Does it?" Cynder posed. "I've never heard of any prophecies or legends about furless apes, human beings, or this new Element."

"I doubt that matters. Not after what we've seen today. An Element that deflects the others? Absorbs them? Strips a person of their senses? Or rips open holes into the Realm of Convexity?" He shuddered. "I've never heard of an Element that can do all that. And the most disturbing thing is…"

Volteer glanced at Joshua and Kilat's direction.

.

.

.

"That child isn't even supposed to be alive. We all saw her die."

---

Author's Notes:

Aaaaaaand there you have it.

The "Gates of Warfang" arc is officially over! :D Looking back, nothing much has happened story-wise. And as much as I abhor the fact I still had to go "by the book" here, I'm happy to say I was able to plant plenty of seeds for future use.

Okay, proceeding to replies to reviews. I directly reply to everyone who signs in and puts up a signed review, but I can't possibly put all the replies I made verbatim as space is limited and people have better things to do.

Djax80: The previous chapter clocked in at a solid 18K or something like that. People normally take at least two hours to read something that long word-for-word, so you clocking in at a couple minutes short of three quarters of an hour is impressive.

I understand you wanted to call OOC on Cynder for trusting Joshua, but from the discussion I had with you, it looks like what I wrote pretty much makes sense. What's funny is that the first version of the Joshua-Cynder conversation actually had Cynder capable of talking properly. Her thought process goes exactly the way you described it, and then some. But then my beta for that chapter wanted me to make it more awkward. So… there you go!

Azorin: Thanks for the feedback, man. Much appreciated. Maybe next time you could give me some criticism? Or flesh out what you liked about the chapter. Anything involving the writing style or my character portrayal will help in preparing future chapters.

Koal: Joshua did get some peace, but the repetition was totally planned. (Cynder lampshaded it, too. Reread the part where she was looking for Sparx in CH18.) Most important reason for this repetition was Joshua's Fury. It's important to his personal storyline. But given the requirements needed to control his power, I can't just pull it out of my ass whenever I want. I had to justify it by crushing his hopes and temporarily putting him on a nihilist mindset. I will not have another opportunity to do this because of… well, planned character development!

Zero: I'd appreciate it if you could tell me what else you liked about my writing. :D It'll help me know my strong points.

Guest #1: Cynder did get better near the end of the last chapter. :) Can't blame you for missing it though. The last chapter clocked in at nearly 18K words.

Folwod: Aimless will continue on to its 20th chapter and beyond, but the story structure will make a shift, as I've said.

Guest #2: Bah. I don't pity him. Joshua's in a video game world now. XD

Guest #3: But if I do that there won't be any point to the story!

ZealousMenace: Got to admit, he did last a long time before he finally threw in the towel and gave up. And thanks for the wishes, btw. Still, I'm unlikely to find my way back to America on a permanent basis. I've an opportunity a lot of people would kill for.

DanvilTheGriffon: Thanks, dude! Looking forward to seeing you again next chapter! Hopefully next time around you could give me some criticism or be a little bit more specific on what you like? As I told Azorin, feedback like that really help. You have no idea how much they do.

Guest #4: Warfang has a strong racial diversity, so there aren't just dragons in there. But after everything's that happened to him, he's got every right to distrust everyone around him. Eventually I'm sure he'll let it go. Of course, he'll be extra cautious not to tick anyone off…

Somebodynobody10: From my limited knowledge (disclaimer: I am not an English major), tragic stories revolve around flawed characters who see their downfall by their own mistakes or unforeseen consequences, with the "moral" of the story being some realization about human nature, life, or something that is supposed to leave a mark on the readers, whether it has an optimistic tint to it or an atmosphere that's more akin to Fridge Horror.

Your expectations may be justified with your assessment of my writing style. I've tried suppressing it before, of course, but force of habit eventually and always draws it out of me, soooo suppression is pretty much pointless. Thing is, I never intended Aimless to be that kind of story. The outline doesn't call for it and I've resisted the temptation to do certain things I've been itching to do. "Fantasy/suspense"? Those were selected purely because of the setting and because of the variables I've been busy setting up in this story arc. There's actually one story genre that would fit this fic, but FFN doesn't offer me that option soooo… what the hell. *shrugs*

And OOC characters? In the TLOS-verse? Maybe. But the thing is, TLOS characters aren't that fleshed out in terms of their personalities, and several well-known TLOS authors here have told me I can take the canon characters in whichever direction I want and the connection to the characters we were presented with in the games can be easily made despite it.

Let's take Cynder for instance. A Cynder that's ashamed of her past, is visibly afraid to socialize with others, and is constantly guilty of it? That can work. How about a Cynder that has accepted her past, has decided to devote herself to a life of service, but finds the lack of gratitude and the general incapacity for forgiveness infuriating to the point she really only cares about Spyro and the principles of servant leadership instead of the city and its people? Certainly a different character, but that can also work.

So if you find something absolutely OOC about them, I suggest you consider whether your interpretation of the canon cast here has been influenced by other fanworks you've read. Hell, one aspect of my take on Spyro has one such influence: what little I've shown of his behavior is patterned after a great webcomic I've read on dA – which depicts Spyro as an overprotective father and protector. But you've only really seen Spyro active for, what, two chapters at most? And not even from his point of view.

I've been restricting POVs to one character per chapter (with the exception of the previous chapter), and the biases and prejudices of the perspective character carries over to the narrator. If certain canon characters come across as OOC, it's best to assess the circumstances and any linkages to what's actually been shown, as well as any fanworks that may be influencing your opinion, before condemning it as such. It'd also be much better if you can specifically identify them instead of just carping on it so I can adjust the canon characters' portrayal accordingly.

Server lock: Plenty of reviews man. Plenty of reviews. I thank you very much for the feedback, and I hope to give you a good read as the story goes on.

For this story arc, I had to play by the book for the more recent chapters, and you've certainly predicted correctly how this story arc ended. Still, nothing wrong with going the conventional, tropish way. After all, I've accomplished my objectives for this arc and that's what matters more to me. As much as I regret not doing the things I wanted to do to both Joshua and Kilat (hint: I wanted to kill her off earlier, when she just rushed into Joshua's forming Fury), in the end I had to respect the one decision I made when I started this fic: that Aimless isn't going to be like my other fic.

Whether or not the story will play out as you expect it would… well, let's just see where it goes. ^^

Draykat: Great to hear from you again! And as you figured out already by now, it's just the story arc. This story is far from over. Hopefully the chapters can be much shorter though, so I can update more frequently. That's the problem with long chapters. They take too much effort. Ugh, I need to be lazier. LAZIER! XDDD I must work hard to put in LESS EFFORT!

Spyro and Cynder having a clutch? Nope. Sorry. Life gets in the way too much for that, though the Guardians are expecting them to start trying to make babies in a few years.

The Unknown Element is actually easy to figure out once you have all the clues. I've already provided all of them, and some people have already given me their theories on what it actually is. Calling it a "Life Element" as a handful have done (which is basically Alec's Element in the popular human fic series The Adventures of Alec and Spyro) may be appropriate, since it captures a majority of its abilities, though it still completely misses the mark on its true nature. XD

Blazerforce: multiple story threads are happening! Don't worry, just think on it a little more and you'll be able to separate them into four storylines. :P

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Before I conclude, I have an announcement to make regarding Aimless as a story. The main story will be splitting into several plot threads soon, and there is plenty of opportunity for world-building ahead. With that said, I am opening reader submissions.

This means original characters can be submitted for inclusion in the fic, contingent on strict conditions (one of them being that no other humans are permitted). Be warned that these OCs may not have that big a screen time. Not unless they happen to match my needs with regards to some of my plot threads.

This also means original chapters can be submitted in the form of ideas, storyboard/outlines, or actual written content. If you suck at writing, don't fret. I'll do the editing myself. Again, inclusion is also condition as I want to maintain control over the storyling and the world-building.

Several people have already contributed chapter outlines/ideas. They will be credited when Aimless gets around to them; I always give credit where and when it is due. Two have also submitted OCs already; they've been modified to fit the story, and will appear when appropriate.

If you're interested in these sorts of submissions, please let me know. And, please indicate your interest in a PM, so we can go back and forth on it. For the SYOC part, I'll have to come up with a template soon enough and put it up in an interim chapter or something.

Oh, and don't expect me to reply quickly. I've got a job that makes me work 10 hours on average and I'm busy almost all the time. Finding time to write is hard enough. XD