Author's notes:
Hey guys! Y'all weren't expecting to get an update for Aimless after that big announcement, eh?
Well, neither did I!
Turns out that I find the chapter splitting a lot of work. So much so that I'm procrastinating! D: I ended up writing a 10k-word update to Aimless as a form of stress relief. Goddamn.
All the better for you guys though.
I know this chapter (and the next) will be combat-based, but there'll be plenty of things to pick apart for future foreshadowing ;)
On other news, I'm finally getting cover art for Aimless! I'm really excited to get it. :3 Though it'll obviously pay homage to the slice-of-life nature of the story, since it is mostly this by design. It's set in Meredy Square (see the chapters Convention 1 and Convention 2), which was inspired by Place de la Concorde in Paris, France. It obviously isn't finished yet but when it's up, you'll just see it whenever y'all revisit/reread the fic. :3
Messages from my two beta readers below:
AzureDragonZX. Hello, AzureDragonZX here once again. And it has definitely been a while. Not just since the last chapter, but we haven't seen Spyro himself in a long time! Well, I guess it's time to fix that. This may only be a temporary break in the overall hiatus, but I think I speak for all three of us when I say that it's always refreshing to come back to this story. Enjoy CH56 everyone!
Strykeruk. Hey all, Strykeruk here. A rather action filled chapter ahead of us here and not too much I had to tinker with either. Prepare for a display of why people are so nervous about purple dragons 😉
In case you have forgotten, Jayce Bladelizard belongs to Riverstyxx (Firelight) while Aurona belongs to Bizzleb (Key to Destiny: the Untold Story). The setting of the December Cliffs acts as my tribute to these two stories, which have inspired me to write for the Spyro fandom. Both authors not only permitted me to use their OCs, but also approved the adjustments made to their biographies so that they can fit within Aimless canon. It saddens me that both River and Bizzle seem to be out of the writing game for good.
Timestamp key: "D" for days, "W" for weeks, "M" for months, "Y" for years, "EM" for early morning, "LM" for late morning, "EA" for early afternoon, "LA" for late afternoon, "EE" for early evening, "LN" for late night, and "AD" for all day. Note that the Dragon Realms follow the sexagesimal system for keeping time, just like Earth. (In other words, 60 seconds per minute and 60 minutes per hour.)
Snip category key: There are four categories of snips. "Settling In", "City Life", "Beyond the Wall", and "The Journey Home". All four represent parallel storylines that take place within Aimless, and other than "Settling In", each snip category has at least two subtypes. Those subtypes aren't listed due to potential spoilers.
Enjoy!
Beyond the Wall — Ape Menace
Chapter 56: Night Raid 1
"Say what you will, but you're never prepared for the surprise attack."
~ Sarah Dessen
[64D/LN]
Half a week.
It took half a week for the village of Eyria to muster its raiders for the operation on Narvas Mesa.
It had been a long and tense four days, with both Spyro and Claytor joining the guard-captain Kalen on regular patrols in Eyria airspace. They expected an attack from Bleakshooter's forces to appear at any time; because of this vigilance, the two Warfang dragons were on the brink of collapse by the time it was Torsha.
The enemy's inaction proved to be all the more advantageous for Eyria. During that time, they had amassed numerous warriors—civilian volunteers and soldiers alike—to accompany the Purple Dragon of Legend into battle. Claytor had counted about eighty strong, and morale was at its utmost.
Come Torsha evening, the entire grand lounge of ice dragons, earth dragons, atlawa, gnorcs, and snow leopards streamed out of the village gates, led by Acting Chief Aurona, the chief of Pystis, Jayce Bladelizard, Vinetar Claytor, and Spyro himself.
Why Aurona went with them had initially puzzled Claytor. Had this been Warfang, the three Guardians, as well as Councilor Tuconsis, would have stayed behind to keep an eye on the City of Dragons in the event of unforeseen difficulties. In the end, the Talonpoint Knight let the issue fly past. Perhaps it was a cultural difference, or perhaps she had faith in Ophelia and the other elders. Either way, Eyria was her village. It was not his place to judge.
The forest of December was as quiet as death during their march to Narvas Mesa. The grand lounge veered away from the roads and sifted past the thick pine trees, trudging through deep snow. The dragons led the way, carving out a path so the mammalian bipeds wouldn't suffer hypothermia en route to the apes' forward base.
The adventurous spirit inside Claytor would have wanted to see the rolling, snow-covered hills and glimpse the forlorn remains of Pystis, but the veteran knight knew to concentrate on the upcoming battle. They were here to help the people of December Cliffs, and that's exactly what they were going to do.
As soon as the tall and imposing spire of rock appeared above the tree cover, Spyro took to the skies. With a muffled cry, he encased himself in a barrier of wind. Liquid shadow also encapsulated the dragon as the whole figure turned blurry. Hastened by what Claytor knew to be Dragon Time, the legendary war hero took to the skies to get a closer look at their enemies.
In the meantime, he joined Aurona and Jayce to inspect the combatants' gear and team assignments. Unfortunately, only nine members of his vintaine had survived the clash with Bartholomew's forces—both Skylands orators, Oxspring, the knight who'd been named after Master Terrador, and five others. Of them, only two were uninjured and they were needed to keep an eye on the rest.
Even without his vintaine to support him, the Talonpoint Knight carried enough authority and experience to keep his status among the villagers aloft in the air. Aurona and Jayce left it up to him to check the conditions of their weapons and armor and determine whether it would suffice for a major clash against Bleakshooter's apes.
"Barely enough," he had concluded. The apes beleaguering December sported magically-enhanced equipment on par with the Dark Armies' elite forces. They dwarfed anything the villagers could craft in both craftsmanship and strength. "Without Lord Spyro, we'd have to work with a better strategy and rely on numbers just to win. Even then, it would be a victory with enormous losses on our side."
"Ventura's wings," Aurona uttered. "Fortunately for us, we do have Lord Spyro accompanying our forces." She eyed the mesa in the background, seeing the crystalline lights dotting the hastily-built fortress. Solid blocks of ice formed stairs and ramps leading up to the flat top of the geologic monolith. "I'm thinking of a pincer strategy. From three separate directions." The acting chief swiveled to a nearby dragon larger than her—the chief of what was once the village of Pystis. "What do you think?"
"It makes sense." He made his opinion known. "The Narvas Mesa fortress ascends the cliffside, but it can be assaulted from two opposite directions. Normally, we'd have to be wary of retaliation coming from the main camp above, but I suspect we will be assaulting their leaders together with Lord Spyro. Is that correct?"
Aurona acknowledged Pystis' thoughts. "We are. You and Jayce will be leading our forces on the ground. Lord Spyro, the Vinetar, and I will take a few dragons and keep the commanders busy. By the time they realize what's going on, it will be too late for them to mount a proper defense."
"Will you be alright, Aurona?" Pystis scanned her, his expression narrowing from skepticism. "Your armor isn't meant for a major clash."
Immediately upon hearing her intentions, Claytor scrutinized Eyria's acting chief. Aurona had a slender and beautiful body, her scales sporting two different shades of blue. Light armor of simple metal covered her breast and paws, with rawhide wrapped around her flanks. It was designed for speed and agility. Two horns sprouted from her head, curving up and back—bands of stone and thick rope encircled the base. The dragon knight knew this amounted to nothing in front of the apes' exceptional arsenal, but it was better than fighting with just their natural scales.
"I'll be fine," Aurona replied before Claytor could swoop in. She gestured a wingtip at Spyro, who they could barely see in the night sky, still circling the air. "Look. Lord Spyro himself isn't wearing anything."
"He's different! He's the Purple Dragon! You can't compare yourself to him. He's—
"The same as me. A fast fighter. Hit hard, flutter back. I won't be taken down easily, not with him fighting beside me. I have your neck." Aurona scanned him in return. "Besides, your equipment isn't that much better than the other warriors', and they're heavy."
"It is what I'm used to," he said.
There was a pause in the conversation. Jayce Bladelizard took the opportunity to walk towards the warriors, who stood at attention upon his approach. Claytor watched on in disbelief. It still felt surreal, seeing dragons respecting an actual ape. "Hey fellows!" He began. "Since we're up against my kind, I'll have to tell you about all their bad habits. I doubt they've changed a bit these last twenty years…"
Jayce began to make gestures, pantomiming areas of concern and the weaknesses in the apes' approach to fighting dragons. Once a member of the Dark Armies, he pointed at their penchant for telegraphed movements, their natural fear of the dragons' larger frames, and even their tendency to squander opportunities with useless chatter. As the warriors listened, Claytor sized him up. The ape had matured enough to be a squad captain during the days of the Great War.
He stared at the bone mask hoisted on Jayce's waist belt. It was Ophelia's way of ensuring there was absolutely no way their allies would mistake him for the enemy. One could even smell the fumes of her urine emanating from it. The elder dragoness was paranoid about his safety, which Claytor thought was unnecessary. The scent markers weren't even needed considering Jayce was clothed in white and brown furs and bore the symbols of Eyria and the other villages of December all over each piece of leather. The twin scimitars sheathed on his back had a unique, tribalistic shape to their blades. There was simply no way anyone could mistake him for one of Bleakshooter's soldiers.
"—prepared for Vanish?" Claytor overheard the tail end of Pystis' question when he refocused on his ongoing conversation with Aurona.
"I have four dragons on top of that. They'll have their snouts to the ailerons looking for any sign of Vanish. I am praying to Azeroth they aren't involved with Skylands at all, whoever they are." Aurona grumbled. "I don't know what I'll do." Her gaze descended until they bore holes in the snow. Her features wilted, thoughts circling on what was surely a sad memory.
Pystis gave her a look of sympathy. "You really think Selema was taken by Vanish? All those years ago?"
"It's the only clue I have," mewled Aurona. "We've searched December hundreds of times and found nothing, not even a single scale! Selema's the only pink dragon in the entire region. If she'd fought—if she'd struggled, then we'd have found clues a long time ago.
"Alona's mercy. Never did I imagine that Vanish had taken my daughter, or that they could be associated with powers exponentially greater than some snow-laden villages in the middle of nowhere." Aurona raised her eyes to Zella and Adrano above. "Why her? Why my precious Selema?" She shut her eyes. "I don't understand. Skylands has everything; they emerged from the War intact. Why would they go after some ice dragon who hadn't manifested her element yet? Mother of Knowledge. I need to know…"
"There's only one way to get answers," Pystis replied, eyes narrowing in muted anger. Vanish had been active when the apes overran his village. It wouldn't be surprising if they had also taken members of his family.
Claytor felt a pang of agony nestle in his heart. Rather than a proclamation of support, for some reason he remembered the way Joshua Renalia approached these moments. The furless ape was a softer egg than anyone could have ever expected; several times, in his previous post, he had seen him embrace his adopted sister or run his odd, five-fingered paws along the orchid scales of his monoscale friend.
Taking inspiration from how Joshua handled these kinds of situations, the Talonpoint Knight plodded over to Aurona. He lifted his wing cautiously, preparing to place it on her shoulder once it became clear the Chief of Pystis was going to do nothing. "Acting Chief Aurona, we'll find Vanish. We'll make them talk. It won't bring your daughter back, but—
Wingbeats from above interrupted him. "Everyone," Spyro called out, touching down into the forest as he dispelled the three elements enveloping his body, "I've circled the ice fortress a few times. There aren't any weak points in their structure at all. I bet Slam Bam made this—it's too seamless to have been carved out of natural ice."
"Thank you, Lord Spyro. We were just discussing our strategy to deal with the fortress: a two-pronged assault. One large group divides themselves into two and attacks both entrances, working their way up the mesa. Another group, a team of elites, hits the leadership from above—to stop them from retaliating and regaining the wind in their wings, figuratively speaking." Aurona clued him in on what they had brainstormed, including her proposed team compositions. He listened attentively, not saying a single word until she was finished.
He agreed with the consensus. "It's the only practical strategy available to us. If Bleakshooter's Apes are anything like Gaul's, their strongest fighters will most likely be resting on the topside camp. If we keep them occupied, their fighters below won't have reinforcements."
"And if Vanish is spotted?" the Chief of Pystis asked.
"We'll take that flight when we get there," replied Spyro. "If we do have to deal with Vanish, we'll have to be extra careful. There's still too much we don't know about them—how many they are and what they're capable of. We're diving into fog as far as Vanish is concerned." His eyes panned the group. "Chief Aurona, is the division of teams final?"
"Yes. It's final."
"Spyro!" The only one who didn't refer to Spyro by his title was Jayce. Said ape, the only one in their company, waved at him. A question flew out of his mouth the second the dragon acknowledged his presence. "I think the two ground teams can manage things from here. But, what's our signal going to be? How will we know when to attack?"
Spyro smirked. "A meteor."
.
.
.
.
.
.
With a battle plan ready, Jayce and the Chief of Pystis separated from the group to work on their strategy to assail the fortress at the foot of the mesa. Claytor, having some tactical experience himself, had a strong feeling that they would employ Ice and Earth to destabilize their footing. How effective that would be, he wasn't sure—much of the ice had been produced by the artifact that made Slam Bam's battle armor. The residual mana inside might interfere with their manipulations.
Claytor and Aurona gathered about ten other dragons to join them in their assault at the top. They clustered together around Spyro, who stood next to a pine tree, eyeing the sky, or rather, the twin moons above.
"We're ready."
"Awaiting your command."
Both Sir Claytor and Acting Chief Aurona grunted at the Purple Dragon, waiting for his next orders. They, too, cast their gazes skyward. Adrano the Red and Zella the Green loomed imposingly above them, illuminating all beneath their lights in scarlet and emerald. Fortunately, the nights in December were full of clouds, and it didn't take long for a big one to approach the two moons.
Aurona released a nervous breath. It seemed she'd been worried about the watchtowers too.
"Keep up with me," Spyro said. "Don't lag behind or we'll be seen." He backed off from the pine tree and crouched down, preparing to take off. White wisps of an element Claytor didn't recognize exuded from his wings. It glowed lustrously in the darkness.
Claytor and Aurona barked wordlessly. Twelve dragons prepared for takeoff.
With a powerful leap, Spyro sprung into the air, wingbeats smashing into the snow beneath them. He soared high into the sky, his wings still giving off that white, smoky light. The Vinetar shed his doubts, for it was too late for that, and followed suit. He jumped into the air after the legendary war hero, wings heaving to keep pace with him.
As they soared higher and higher, Claytor glanced at Narvas Mesa and saw the twinkling of both crystalline light and torchlight. Adrano and Zella gave them a clear view of their camp—several igloos and a few structures made of wood or stone. Several guard towers sprinkled the cliff edges, no doubt looking out for suspicious movements like theirs.
Further below, Jayce and the Pystis Chief had split up their fighters—a smattering of dragons and bipeds from the various villages—and loitered near clusters of pine trees on the southeast and northeast corners of the mesa. They crept as close as they could; any further and the sentries would spot them.
"Amazing," Aurona uttered. "They aren't moving at all. Whatever Lord Spyro's doing, it's working."
As they leveled out and started approaching the topside camp, Claytor studied Spyro—studied his wings and the glowing smoke trailing behind them. It was elemental magic, surely. Something that came naturally to another line of dragonkind. This was nothing like the wisps of "gas" emitted by shadow dragons. Could this be… light?
"Get ready," Spyro declared. "We're getting close. Stay behind me. This will be a surprise they'll never forget."
Nobody said a word. They gulped their saliva and took in deep breaths, banishing the anxiety. Claytor silently reflected on the viciousness of Bartholomew's apes and the equipment they donned. He was mentally preparing himself for their speed, their power, and their hostility. But he reminded himself that what they may have in raw strength and bloodlust, they lacked in discipline and technique.
They could do this.
A minute had passed, their wingbeats being drowned out by the powerful winds sweeping through December's skies. The currents were strong up here; to think they only intensified so much more higher up! Truly, this was the frontier of the known world.
"Here I go!" Spyro's announcement rang clearly in their earholes. Claytor braced himself for another miraculous feat. The achievements of the Purple Dragon were legendary. He expected Spyro to reach skyward and, somehow, pull down a giant rock from the very skies—
The 19-year old dragon suddenly crumpled his wings and plummeted. He dispelled his magic in the process—revealing all twelve dragons above the watchtowers' blind spot—and fell towards the mesa.
He curled into a ball, flicking his tail again and again until he spun. He spun faster, faster, and faster. Multiple elements wrapped around the Purple Dragon, enshrouding him in the bright energies of Fire, Earth, Wind, and one that distorted the light around him into an unnatural corona. Illuminating the sky, they magnified in intensity so quickly that Spyro alone eclipsed Adrano and Zella.
Spyro had become the meteor.
The signal!
All twelve followed without question. They folded their wings and entered a long, precarious dive. They trailed behind the war hero, hiding in the glowing, ethereal tail he left in his wake. Astonishment struck Claytor's breast when he realized none of them could keep pace with Spyro at all; he was accelerating far beyond the maximum speed the knight had ever seen a dragon of Spyro's size achieve.
Panic broke across the apes' camp. Figures scattered before the balefire. Everyone was in a flurry, screeching unintelligibly at each other. Apes were pointing at the sky—at them—at the lethal meteor hurtling their way.
A few level-headed ape captains came forward, with smaller primates carrying a basket of spears. They tossed lances at Spyro, trying to get a hit, maybe divert the monstrous doom. Others took longbows and fired arrows at him.
It did nothing.
Terror broke out on their muzzles when everything they threw burned away. Anything that reached the core struck conjured plates of earth, ricocheting away into the darkness.
Several apes shrieked. Others dropped everything and, crying out in terror and urinating on the spot, turned to flee.
It was too late.
Spyro crashed into Narvas Mesa with an ear-shattering boom. Brimstone, fire, and superheated air exploded outward in swift, destructive waves. Apes were slammed down, mashed into the ground, or eviscerated upon their own structures. The very earth creaked, quivering from the meteoric strike. Pieces of the mesa crumbled, splintering off the top and plummeting to the fortress below.
Loud thuds echoed from below, drumming to the sounds of Claytor, Aurona, and their comrades-in-arms touching down on freshly-made wasteland. Nearly a fourth of the camp had been wiped out, but the operation had only just begun. They pelted the survivors with Polar Bombs, icicle shards, and tossed rocks. Spyro himself emerged from the fiery dust cloud, blurred in Dragon Time and unleashing fire and electricity upon apekind.
"One of the captains, reeling from the initial assault, shouted to another. "You! Call for reinforcements! We'll hold them off—
Roars from below quaked the air. Sounds of weapons clashing and the elements wreaking havoc rose into their ears.
Claytor saw an ape fighter rush to the cliff edge. The long-tailed primate yelled at the larger monkey, "They're occupied! Dragons, felines, and-and—
The Vinetar let out a vicious snarl and galloped towards the captain. Several fighters tried to impede him. He reached into his mana reserves and conjured a wave of green energy, pulling two large stones from the ground. He whipped them at the fighters, sweeping them aside, crushing their ribs. Claytor roared and engaged the captain, who brought up a battleaxe and blocked his strike.
That it did not splinter beneath his force and momentum testified to its craftsmanship.
Ape fighters circled around Claytor, coming up from behind, but he wasn't alone. Three of the ten dragons came to his aid, driving off the monkeys and even another captain that joined the fray. Several survived the initial clash thanks to their armors, but the strike force had clearly listened to Jayce Bladelizard's guidance and dispatched the fighters after only minor trouble.
Claytor, too, did his fair share of work. Without looking at Spyro or Acting Chief Aurona, he somersaulted and lashed out at the ape captain with his tail. Its spike smashed into its long handle and sent it flying out of his grasp. The blade cleaved an ape in half and severed the leg off of another, inadvertently assisting another dragon in their fight.
Disarmed unexpectedly, the captain was stupefied for a moment before reaching for the dagger on his baldric. Claytor moved one step faster, exploiting the momentary lull. He easily tackled the ape—captain-types were usually breast level for adult dragons—and sank his claws into the gaps in the enchanted armor. The Talonpoint Knight released his mana and enhanced his attack, hammering the helpless ape and stunning him long enough for the dragon to bring his snout to the furry neck and tear out the arteries.
He had only just spat the vile-tasting blood from his maw when another ape captain spotted him. This one was larger, about the size of a commander-type! Using a glowing sword, he skewered one of the Eyria dragons in the neck and kicked him away. He then let out a battle cry and sprinted towards the armored knight.
Claytor gathered his mana and stomped the snow, willing a stalagmite of red-orange stone to shoot up from the ground. The ape must have had experience with earth dragons, as he sidestepped at the last possible moment, narrowly avoiding being skewered by the rock before leaping into the air. His thin tail proved to be more prehensile than a dragon's, as he used it to quickly swing around the new pillar and launch himself towards his foe.
Claytor barely had enough time to react. He only had a moment to wrap a layer of earth around his forelegs. He reared up and attempted to block the commander-type's attack. The ape's momentum buckled the knight's forelegs inward as the curve of his opponent's falchion sunk into his helmet. His enchanted armor was sliced open, magicked sharpness overpowering its defensive strength. Had Claytor been hatched with a less substantive element, he would've died on the spot.
Claytor tried to redirect the bloodthirsty ape to the side and swung his forepaws to the left. To his immense surprise, the ape's tail caught his withers. Centrifugal force carried his opponent to his rear. In spite of his firm will, he couldn't hold back a loud, powerful roar when he felt a biting pain at the tip of his tail.
An unusual lightness staggered the earth dragon's stance. It left him defenseless, unable to stop the monkey's foot from striking at his armored flank. Claytor flopped to the side; the hulking captain rushed to the dragon with the intent of finishing him off.
"Oh no, you don't!" Acting Chief Aurona smashed into the vile beast almost a split second too late. The enchanted blade stabbed into the snow next to Claytor's head. Completely overwhelming the captain with her attacks, the ape's combat experience was unable to overcome her talent. The clash ended with a blade of ice severing the primate in half.
"Alona's mercy, Vinetar Claytor! Are you all right?" Aurona asked. She immediately trotted to his side, brought her snout under his flank, and lifted him to his feet.
"Y-Yes." Claytor grimaced. The ancestors-damned monkey had sliced off his tailblade! Luckily the bleeding had already stopped, but coping with the injury in the heat of battle was going to be annoying. "Thank you for the assistance."
"We've already lost a few in our group." Chief Aurona fished out a red spirit crystal wrapped in cloth from her garb and tossed it to the knight. "Heal up quickly, Vinetar, or the next one will finish you off."
"How's Lord Spyro?"
Aurona's slender muzzle gestured behind Claytor. He peeked sideways and watched the Purple Dragon smush two commander-type apes into paste with what looked like earth and the unknown light-distorting element that he used to envelop their grand entrance a few minutes ago.
As though on cue, three humongous apes stormed out from the largest tent in the camp. All three were commander-types. "By the spirits! Where is Slam Bam‽ He should be here!" demanded the one who had donned the thickest, sturdiest armor Claytor had ever seen on an ape of his size.
Slam Bam? Who's that?
Claytor shelved the question for now and analyzed the three massive apes. All three bore equipment on par with if not greater than Talonpoint Keep's standard issue. He sucked in his breath. This was going to be unpleasant. The apes were putting up a better fight than he'd anticipated, their bellicose nature surpassing the skills of December's best. Spyro's supporting lounge of twelve strong had been reduced to eight; that number included Chief Aurona and himself. If only he had more of his vintaine to spare…
The warrior dragoness screeched her battle cry and flew into the fray, summoning a whirling blizzard to destroy their ranks. Claytor followed right after her and clashed against the apes. Spyro took it upon himself to engage the trio—the most dangerous of the lot.
"The yeti isn't here? Spring of Fortune. That'll make things a lot easier."
"We have orders to capture the Purple Dragon alive, but that doesn't mean we can't rip off a limb or two."
"Yeah… I wonder how your leg will taste grilled."
"Go ahead and try!"
Spyro roared ferociously. Turning into a purple blur, the war hero charged in. He was swathed in a wreath of flames, yet the very image was distorted, lensing around him in an unnatural arc. One of the commander's guards stepped in to absorb the collision, digging into the snow for stability. He grunted at the moment Spyro crashed into his two-handed axe, itself awash in a magical aura.
The blade not only failed to damage the hero's horns. It also snapped loudly as cracks sundered through its resilient structure. "Damn it, why is he so heavy‽"
The other two apes came to his assistance, the other guard slashing down with his axe and the giant commander circling around to strike Spyro's back with his warhammer. The runes inscribed on their weapons were glowing, empowering their attacks.
Spyro leapt up on the first ape, his jaws destroying the weapon once and for all. Claws enhanced with vicious poison tore into the vulnerable snout. Then, he spun. He pushed off of the enemy before him and attacked the other guard, with the commander's warhammer striking the ground and unleashing a shockwave that destabilized a small area around them. At that moment, the dragon flew up before diving back down enshrouded in the scarlet aura of the Fear element.
Claytor saw all this in the periphery as he rejoined Aurona and the last six dragons in their lounge in demolishing the rest of the camp. The remaining apes, captains and fighters alike, completely lost their scales and abandoned all semblance of strategy. To use the dragons' saying, they left everything to Gintomyr and assailed the eight warriors with all their might and fury. No one dared to approach the fearsome duel between the Purple Dragon, the commander, and his honor guard. Even an unintelligent brute knew it was suicide to do so.
Technique could only accomplish so much in defending oneself from such relentless brutality. The apes' equipment proved to be a significant equalizer in this melee. Bombs tossed by the monkeys were strong enough to knock down a dragon, causing severe injury if not death if help did not come quickly.
Both Aurona and Claytor independently concluded that their forces could survive this with the least amount of fatalities if they both focused on supporting the other warriors. They galloped and flew around the camp, opening up opportunities with ice breath, setting off earthquakes to repel flanking maneuvers, and hurling boulders of stone or ice to remove the chaotic winds. The ape captains swiftly took notice of this when many on their own side began to fall one after another, and they responded by engaging the two of them directly.
After his near-death experience, the Talonpoint Knight ceased underestimating the on-the-spot creativity of these lesser species. He fought the strike teams within clear and visible sight of at least two other dragons, making sure that help would come if ever he needed it. Sometimes Aurona came to his aid. Other times, it was he who came to hers.
Despite the change in strategy, the sheer ferocity of their opponents was such that they quickly depleted their limited supply of healing spirit gems. Even after retrieving the unused crystals from the four villagers that had perished, they were still forced to ration these life-saving supplies—forced to fight defensively against enemies who discarded all sense of self-preservation in order to destroy them at all costs.
Soon, blood and freshly eviscerated meat had been scattered across Narvas Mesa, yet what remained of their adversaries were still shrieking in fury. Chief Aurona cried out when a fifth dragon collapsed on the battlefield after taking a blow aimed at her heart. She screeched the villager's name—he'd been a close friend of hers during the Great War—and unleashed her wrath upon the primates surrounding them.
A furious blizzard erupted from Aurona as she expended her mana into slaughtering as many of the apes as possible. Undaunted, the fighters rushed in with the hopes of slashing past her armor and scales. They were swept away by her wrath, battered by furious winds, crushed in compacted snow, and hurled past the cliff's edge, where they plummeted to their doom. One-tenth of the camp survived, if only because they were out of range.
Several apes threw bombs at the worn-out dragoness. A few others brandished short bows and shot enchanted arrows at her and the remaining five dragons fighting by her side. The Talonpoint Knight acted fast, using what remained of his mana to erect four slabs of bedrock around Aurona. The other four manipulated the snowfall and sent a large wave of it outward, interrupting the projectiles and causing the apes to step back. They immediately sprung forward to assault the remnants, going horns to horns to conserve what little mana was left in their core.
Claytor silently gave thanks to the Lifebringer, for the lack of reinforcements meant the pincer teams were doing their job properly. By the Ancestors, he was so tired! Why weren't spirit crystals sprouting in December? He could finish off these scat eggs if he still had enough mana left in him.
A piercing cry rattled Claytor's ears. Spyro had liquefied one of the honor guards from the waist down, spitting out molten earth from his maw. The other guard was dead, having succumbed to the venom that had been inflicted upon him.
As for the primate who ran the Narvas Mesa camp, he was leaning up against a fence, his warhammer in one hand, and the other on his side. The Ape Commander had lost one eye and was bleeding heavily. He looked to be on the verge of collapse.
The sorry sight of their leader had brought the rabid monkeys back to their senses. "Falconsinger's done for! Let's get out of here!" Someone screamed. The words spooked the remaining survivors and compelled them to run.
"You're not going anywhere, mongrels!" Aurona shouted, enraged at the thought of any of these creatures escaping death today. She had recovered from her Ice Fury and resumed her onslaught. Claytor and the others joined her, blindsiding the fleeing apes and gutting them until their teeth, their breast, and their forepaws were all soaked in blood.
A few ultimately managed to abscond the battlefield and descend the fortress. Claytor did not give chase, knowing the other forces below would take care of them.
"Let's end this, Chief Aurona. Lord Spyro took care of the commanders. We should help him subdue the monkey." Claytor motioned the ice dragoness towards the scene unfolding in the center of the destroyed camp. They couldn't kill the Ape Commander. Not yet. Not until they put him through some serious questioning. They needed answers about Bleakshooter, about Cliff Town, about Vanish and the missing dragons.
Chief Aurona absorbed the penultimate set of red and green spirit gems. She discarded the gray fragments as they disintegrated in the air. Refreshed, the warrior galloped towards the last remaining ape, with Claytor and the other five right behind her.
Spyro and Commander Falconsinger had been glaring at each other when they finally arrived. "Lay down your hammer and surrender!" Aurona was the first to shout at the hulk. "We've wiped out your camp and our friends below are sweeping up the rest of your fortress. Surrender and we'll make your death quick!"
A tense silence followed her announcement.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Commander Falconsinger suddenly broke into laughter. He had gone insane. "Haha! Hahahahaha! You think you can kill me? You think you can kill me, a TRUE Ape‽ Just because Slam Bam abandoned me doesn't mean I'm left without options, you damned lizards!" He raised his weapon and activated the magic within.
Not to attack Spyro.
Not to attack Claytor and Aurona.
But to strike the ground and fill the air with clouds of snow and ice.
The group did nothing but watch, alert for any tricks. Vinetar Claytor began to think that this could be it. That the fight would end with Falconsinger either realizing he was outmatched or lunging at them from his temporary cover.
None of them truly knew what he had in store. None of them knew the significance of the loud, paper-ripping noise. Had they known the true nature of this sound, they would've killed him right then and there.
When the snow settled, the Commander spat out two thick pieces of paper to the ground. He grinned darkly at them. "I'm not dying today."
Claytor stepped towards him. "You are out of your mind—
"Get back!" Spyro jumped in front of the knight and shoved him backward. "Everyone, get back!"
Multiple glowing objects appeared in the falling mist, casting an ominous, fiery light as they lobbed in the air, scattering across the battlefield with Falconsinger at the center. Claytor gasped in shock as they shot out beyond the snowclouds—they were blobs of molten lava, indiscriminately arcing down upon them all.
By now, Claytor had slightly recovered some of his mana and he immediately used it to summon another slab of earth to block the incoming volley. The other dragons followed him, shielding themselves with ice and earth. Meanwhile, Spyro submerged into a pool of darkness and disappeared from sight.
Superheated fluid splashed down with wet, terrifying splats. Ice and snow hissed in Claytor's earholes as they melted. Astonishment struck him when a red glow penetrated his earthen shelter. The knight prepared to reinforce it when tremors shook the ground. Instinct drove the dragon to slap his spikeless tail and, detecting a massive object headed his way, scampered backward, wings fluttering to increase the distance.
And not a moment too soon.
Mere seconds after his hasty retreat, a giant, artificial construct smashed through his structure. It pulverized the solid stone, its three legs stomping thunderously through snow and ice alike. The frozen surfaces did nothing to throw off its strides.
A most unnatural screech then filled the air. Shrill whines tugged at Claytor's soul. A deep, scarlet light tore through the battlefield, towards one of Aurona's fellow villagers. Death would have claimed the dragon if a black portal hadn't appeared beside him and spat Spyro out, who rammed him out of the way in time. Ventura's wings, that was close!
Claytor watched as the lethal ray slammed into the snow. It was astonishing to feel the earth thrum as though it had been struck by an almighty strike. He couldn't help but feel dread as the last of the crimson energy flooded into the point of impact and revealed what laid underneath—a deep abyss, hollowed out from solid rock.
Two tripodal golems emerged from the mists, flanking the fragile Ape Commander. They had materialized within spatial distortions in the air and walked out to meet their group. They were shaped like a teardrop nestling on three long legs. A ruby-like jewel floated in the empty space within its center, held up by magic. Falconsinger grinned confidently. "Ha! These things will take care of you!"
Then, the ape started sprinting in the opposite direction. Frantically.
"Azeroth's cloaca, he's running away!" Claytor shouted. He galloped after Falconsinger, whose grave injuries slowed him down. Yet the dragon knight couldn't help but redirect his attention to the tripod golems when one fired off another beam of magical energy at him. He couldn't dodge this one, not with how fast it was going. Claytor blurted out the only thing that came to mind. Something that Joshua would exclaim almost daily.
"Oh shit!"
Fortunately for the earth dragon, a solid boulder of ice slammed into the construct. Its heft diverted the golem's aim, causing the beam to be fired off into the sky, harmlessly.
Spyro then charged back into the fray, leaving a trail of afterimages in his wake. He whipped his tail at one of the golem's legs. His golden tail blade had been coated in sharp, magicked ice; yet it appeared that even ice conjured by the Purple Dragon could do naught but inflict shallow scrapes on the golems' magically-enhanced rock.
Claytor and another earth dragon from Eyria took the opportunity to leap into the air and take flight. The two spotted Commander Falconsinger closing in on a structure at the far end of the mesa—a stairwell that descended the other side of the cliff.
They had the same idea.
With Spyro, Aurona, and the other dragons taking care of the golems, they decided to chase after the fleeing ape. "Come on, the Commander's escaping!"
Before they could set off, shrill whistling pierced his ears. Each blew for a few brief seconds. Two dragons swooped down from one of the clouds obstructing the twin moons. Both were ridden by leopards, and they were sounding the alarm.
One of the dragons yelled at them. "It's Vanish! We spotted Vanish by the forest!"
Hearing the message made Claytor's guts churn. He remembered what Spyro thought about Vanish. What he said back in Eyria.
The Skylanders were here.
"Are you sure it's them?" Claytor shouted back.
"As sure and true as the arrows of the Huntress," one of the snow leopards hollered in reply.
The villager hovering with Claytor retorted, "Ancestors, enough with the aerobatics! We need more detail!"
The other dragon quickly answered, "Our lounge saw two suspicious figures lurking within sight of the mesa. They matched all known accounts of Vanish's description. We think they descended from Mystic Pinnacle."
Claytor's muzzle scrunched together in deep thought. The Portal Masters could make a joke out of the vast distance between Markazia and Skylands. The mountainside would certainly be a good place to begin an infiltration.
The Vinetar quickly eyed the battlefield below. Atop Narvas Mesa, five dragons engaged the tripod golems. Spyro, wanting to avoid destructive attacks like the one that had decimated the camp, seemingly held back his full strength as he fought.
Anyone who saw him now would think that he has endless mana…
Four others were supporting him, but the material composing the golems was difficult to scratch. Two of the dragons, noticing the fleeing Ape Commander, had taken flight and chased after him, only for one of the constructs to fire a scarlet beam at them whilst the other charged forward…
…While also firing a shot at Claytor and the surrounding group.
The attack flew dangerously close to them. It surged past all four dragons, startling one such that the feline on his back had to tightly clasp the reptile's harness just to avoid falling off. "Whoa! Great Hunt, what is that‽"
"I don't know!" Claytor shouted over the howling wind. "The Commander summoned those golems somehow, and now he's trying to escape—Ancestors!"
Another stray beam streamed beside the flyers. Mid-evasion, the other feline fell off his seat, only to be rescued by his dragon by a narrow margin. It almost clipped the other earth dragon who flew up together with the knight.
Claytor grunted. "If everyone focuses on the golems, Lord Spyro can pursue the Commander and take him down."
"Wait, what about Vanish? If we lose them now—
"We won't," interrupted another voice. Swift wingbeats thrummed the air from below. The knight glanced down and saw Acting Chief Aurona ascending the skies. The ice dragoness had a stern, if grave, frown on her muzzle. "Where are they? How many? Tell me!" She snapped in anger, yet Claytor could sense a mother's desperation in her voice.
She received the report quickly, and in full—two shadows, dragon or feline depending on the observer, and currently descending Mystic Pinnacle. The determination in her eyes shifted briefly, and the Chief of Eyria turned to face the battlefield below. From here, they could see one of the tripod golems conjuring another rain of magma on the battlefield. The other focused on the combatants, trying to ram a village warrior flat whilst firing another deadly ray of light at the Savior—the greatest threat amongst them.
A little further ahead, Falconsinger was limping and stumbling to what was clearly a stairwell on the far end of the mesa. It was most certainly an emergency escape route; it didn't look like something that led to the heart of the fighting below. The distance was deceptively close; anyone who dared to pursue him would attract the constructs' undivided attention.
The Talonpoint Knight knew how much Aurona longed to investigate Vanish, now that the opportunity had arisen. "Chief Aurona!" he cried out. "Just go! Don't worry about Lord Spyro and the others."
"Even so, Sir Claytor, it's best if we—
The indecision on her snout moved him. He flew closer. He went into her personal space. "Aurona," he whispered. "This is a chance for you to learn the truth about your missing daughter. Please, you must take it. I am not a father myself, but I can understand your pain. Just go. We'll take care of this storm."
It was a gamble, bringing up her past like this. Claytor had seen for himself the effects Joshua's so-called "human empathy" had on people. Without even trying, he turned enemies into allies, diffused dangerous encounters, and united disparate wills. It was almost magic in and of itself! He didn't know if he could pull it off when he wasn't human. From what little he knew, it required unparalleled levels of compassion and sincerity that only they seemed capable of. But, by the Ancestors, he had to—
"Ancestors praise you, Vinetar Claytor," said the dragoness. To his surprise, she leaned forward and lapped the side of his muzzle. "Until I return, I leave command to you… and Lord Spyro, too, if he wishes."
Aurona did not give him any time to reply. With one powerful beat of the air, she soared higher, her eyes fixed on the other scouts circling the air. The two who had called out to Claytor followed Eyria's chief, leaving him and the other earth dragon behind.
The latter's eyes were sparkling. "Lifebringer's wings! I've never seen Chief Aurona yield like that. Just what did you say?"
"Something that she needed someone else to tell her," he replied. It felt strange to see her leave. It bothered him as much as it buoyed him. Was this… incongruity… something that Joshua felt? Realization dawned on him that this might be the reason he stayed in Warfang instead of moving to Skylands when Submaster Kaos offered the opportunity.
Quietly resolving to ask the human about this once he returned home, Claytor began to dive at the golems below. Inspired by Spyro's flight, he decided to attack one of the constructs the same way they initiated this battle. The knight barked at the villager, "Go and toss some rocks at the Commander! If the golems won't let us get close, then we will attack from a distance. Get some help from our lounge if you have to. Cut off his escape!"
"But, what about you?"
Claytor cracked a grin. "If the golems push us back enough… Vulcan's flames, you might just get to watch Lord Spyro fighting as if the fate of the world rested on this victory."
The two dragons broke off, one leveling out to summon or conjure fragments of earth, and the other plummeting down with wings folded. He glimpsed the silhouettes of Acting Chief Aurona and four other dragons plummeting beneath the cliff facing Mystic Pinnacle. He prayed for Azeroth the Infinite to protect them; he had no idea how strong their opponents were.
Throughout all four years of diplomatic relations with the Empire, the Allied Territories had never conducted joint military exercises with the famous Skylanders Corps, despite multiple attempts by Councilor Tuconsis and Master Terrador to get something started.
Focusing on his attack, Claytor enshrouded himself in the green energies of earth mana. He materialized thick slabs of stone over his scales. Such conjuration left him with little more than a tenth of his mana in his reserves, but it was worth it as long as it left anything larger than a dent.
Gravity tightened its grip on Claytor and accelerated his falling speed as more rocks appeared on his armor and scales, amplifying his mass. The wind's howling turned into a horrific screech; he endured it. With his snout to the ailerons, the knight hurtled down towards the mesa, eyes keenly observing the tripod golems below.
One of the dragons took to the skies and joined the villager who accompanied his flight earlier, tossing ice and stone at the fleeing Ape Commander. None hit him, and his intended destination was too far to strike without risking the constructs' focused attacks.
Spyro and two other dragons were left to fight the golems, yet nothing was working. The savior spat fireballs at the floating ruby. A shield of force dissipated the flames. Icicles and rock shards crashed into the golem's sturdy legs and harmlessly fragmented into pieces. One dragon had the bright idea of shifting the snow upon which they walked, yet even that failed to destabilize the magicked constructs.
The Savior of the Dragon Realms looked increasingly worried. Spyro was grimacing from indecision, gaze flickering between him and the fleeing ape. Claytor knew what he was thinking, but with a stronger opponent possibly lurking in the shadows, he mustn't be forced into demonstrating more power than necessary. Luckily, the shining green meteor above them drew his attention.
Spyro barked inaudibly up at Claytor before belting out commands at the two dragons with him. They cobbled earth and ice around one of the golems in the hopes of completely immobilizing them for a critical moment. Both Eyria dragons stumbled after the feat, furiously shaking their snouts as though experiencing headaches.
A clear sign of mana exhaustion.
Spyro took to the air, encasing himself once again in Dragon Time, and plowed his claws down on the top of the construct's tear-shaped head. Streaks of spatial distortion trailed his claws. The attack damaged the enchanted rock and it tore up small yet temporary openings in the shield of force that surrounded the crimson, jewel-like eye.
More importantly, the sheer power of his strike forced the golem to bow down, exposing the red eye to Claytor's meteoric attack.
The critical moment came suddenly. Claytor straightened his head and aimed his horns right at the jewel. In a split second, he collided with the translucent wall of force—
Snap!
—and it shattered into pieces, splintering like glass. The knight continued unabated, striking through the golem's single eye and crashing into its stone architecture. Earth and snow flung out in all directions as his amplified mass also crushed the enchanted rock and buried it halfway into the ground.
The thunderous noise rattled his ears. Claytor couldn't hear anything but a loud, piercing whine in the air. Yet, somehow, he could vaguely hear the Purple Dragon's exclamations.
"—overload the shield with brute force!"
Claytor reached into the pocket of his armor and clasped a green spirit gem to try and recover a little bit of mana. It would be a waste of a healing crystal to alleviate the tinnitus in his hearing. "Everyone, chase after the Commander now! Lord Spyro and I will take care of the golem!"
Spyro rushed over to him. "Sir Claytor, no. You go after the ape; I'll take another dragon. You can't perform another attack like that."
"Lord Spyro—
"Stay aloft! If it's too much for him to handle, I'll take care of it myself." Claytor retreated when he heard the resolution in his voice. Spyro knew Vanish had been sighted, and he was ready to climb altitude as soon as he thought it was needed.
Claytor acquiesced. There was no use resisting against the Savior when it concerned what he knew best—fighting apekind and anything they used to deal with their enemies. With one golem taken down, the knight flapped his wings and took off after all the villagers who'd gone on ahead.
The bejeweled eye of the remaining tripodal construct glinted a bright and ominous scarlet. Yet it did not—it could not follow through with its attack as a crag of ice smashed into it. Spyro was swooping in, preparing to whip his tail into the invisible shield in hopes of shattering it even without the use of his innate magic.
Claytor trailed behind the three villagers ahead of him. Unfortunately, the golems had done their job and there was simply too much distance—too much stray debris here and there—to land a clean hit on the fleeing Falconsinger.
One of the villagers eventually caught up with the injured ape. The dragon swerved downward, vying to catch Falconsinger's arms with his talons and crush his muscles in the process. Claytor could do nothing but watch as the Ape Commander activated the enchantments in his weapon and flung a wave of energy at the hapless reptile.
It smashed into the dragon. Knocked unconscious, he careened wayward towards the mesa's edge. It was only by a stroke of luck that he did not slip over the crest. Claytor roared in frustration, realizing how close Falconsinger was to the emergency stairwell.
"Destroy the structure!" Claytor yelled. "Don't let him escape!"
The two villagers didn't need his commands to know what they had to do. They reacted quickly, burning their life force to cause snow and earth to surge towards the recklessly-erected building. If they could just bury the door, if not dismantle the entire thing, then they could cut off the Commander's escape!
Yet the damned ape proved himself in possession of more last-minute tricks! Letting out a ferocious snarl, his warhammer gleamed lustrously before he pummeled the ground with it. A solid clap quaked the air and sent rock and snow flying, interrupting the dragons' final attacks.
Worse, seeing the two villagers flagging as they succumbed to the backlash of mana exhaustion, Falconsinger took out another wad of paper from his armor and ripped it apart. Rather than another tripod golem, mana burst out from the parchment and coalesced into ethereal blades directly above him. They shot out at his designated targets and successfully distracted Claytor from closing the gap. The knight had never seen nor heard of such spellcraft before in his entire life, but he couldn't just stay aloft and watch these phantasmal swords strike the incapacitated villagers.
Claytor diverted his flight path and landed on the upturned ground. Unwilling to become a target himself, he drew out the minimum amount of mana needed to fortify his forelegs' armor with rock from the mesa. When the blue streaks approached, he reared up and swiped at the mana blades.
The collisions produced sharp, distinct clanging, yet he had successfully deflected the projectiles without causing significant damage to his armor. Truly, the collaboration of mole engineering and gnorc spellcraft were amazing!
He was not happy, however, to see that saving the villagers had all but cost him the opportunity to catch Falconsinger.
Claytor let out an enraged snarl when he found the Ape Commander right in front of the structure. He immediately broke into a gallop, fluttering his wings to pick up speed.
Closely watching the Commander's movements, he realized that three ape fighters had actually beaten the humongous ape to the stairwell and were fiddling around with the locked door, unable to open it no matter what they did. Falconsinger harshly shoved them aside, yipping inaudibly at them but pointing a thick finger in Claytor's direction.
All three apes were in no mood to put themselves between their commander and a furious dragon, but the former's scowl was enough persuasion. They all gripped their swords, clubs, and throwing knives, preparing to give up their lives for a leader who didn't care. Claytor couldn't help but whimper at the sight of Falconsinger strutting up to the door and raising his warhammer, its business end wrapped in mana.
That would certainly open the door.
"You won't escape!" Claytor shouted desperately in-between deep breaths. He dredged what little mana he could and swung his claws at the ground. Two large stones burst forth and flung themselves at the hulking ape—the best he could muster without succumbing to backlash.
Yet already he was considering the option of burning a bit of his life force to send out another, more potent attack. Even if it momentarily enfeebled him, it was far better than letting that scat egg escape! Nobody knew what the consequences of that would be. Taking over Narvas Mesa and making it appear as if the apes still held it was easy, but if Bleakshooter learned about their victory tonight…
No, he couldn't let that happen!
Claytor let out another snarl. He felt emptiness clawing at him, yet he pushed past it. A wave of dizziness struck his psyche when he tugged at his own wellspring of life, but it did not stop his charge. Instead, he powered through the backlash and demanded strength—
Wham!
The solid door in front of Falconsinger suddenly swung open and whacked the Ape Commander on the snout before he could hit it with his warhammer. As he stumbled back, a thick boot pummeled his jaw, knocking him over and forcing him to arrest his momentum with his hammer.
Suddenly, an ape garbed in the white, fur-lined armors of Eyria emerged onto the top of the mesa. Jayce Bladelizard smirked at the Ape Commander as several atlawa and snow leopards followed him through the stairwell. He jeered at the snarling beast who stood a couple of heads taller than him. The best of December Cliffs' bipedal warriors spread out and subdued the three apes who had stood together with Falconsinger. The cowards shrieked and tossed their weapons away, prostrating themselves on the ground, to the Commander's fury.
"—never changed at all," Jayce was saying the moment Claytor approached them. Having aborted his attack earlier and recovering from the weaker, it didn't take long for him to catch up and put himself behind the Commander. "You leader types always talk big, but you all abandon your subordinates the moment you're trapped in turbulence, and there's always a secret escape route available if you know where to look."
Falconsinger took a deep sniff of the air and snarled. "You… I know your scent… the old houndkeeper from the Well of Souls…!"
Jayce had lost his bone mask from all the fighting below. His armor sported large gashes and pieces of it had been chipped off. Fortunately, the orange ape had no visible wounds on his body—a testament to either his skill or the markers that Ophelia drenched him with. His eyes dilated when he finally had a good look at the commander. "Oh, by Gintomyr! I didn't expect to see you here, Falconsinger."
"Bladelizard." Falconsinger's voice was laced with venom. "So this is where you went. Hmph. Raden was right about you. You stink of dragons."
"And you reek of treachery," Jayce retorted. "I thought Lord Caesar was ushering in 'a new age for all of apekind'."
"You know nothing, race traitor!" The Commander growled, practically spitting at the primate's boots. "Caesar is a spineless cur! Only Bleakshooter deserves to be the Ape King."
Jayce snorted. "Another delusional imbecile. An ape like that will only lead to our species' extinction."
The commander visibly quivered. He gnashed his teeth. "I should've gone after you back then, Bladelizard! If Raden hadn't stopped me when you deserted the Dark Army—
"Pfft! As if you would've beaten me when I have these." Jayce unsheathed his two scimitars. Now that he'd gotten a closer look at it, Claytor realized their guards were more ornate than the weapons made in December. The blades even had a strange quality to them, as though forged in magic.
"Y-you really stole King Gaul's—!"
"Nothing compared to his lies and all the atrocities he committed." Jayce stomped towards him. The larger ape backed away. He cast his gaze back and forth, trying to think of an escape.
The distant sound of a golem crashing into the ground and tossing up snow and earth jolted the Ape Commander.
Finally realizing he was trapped, his face reddened from rage. "At least I didn't lay with these putrid dragons—
Unleashing a feral snarl of his own, Jayce dashed forward, twin blades shrieking in his wake.
"Suck an egg!"
Author's notes:
As I mentioned in the pre-chapter A/N. I wrote CH56 as a form of procrastination as work on the OG fic is getting to me. I now need to write a full-sized chapter to insert between what is currently CH3 and CH4, and when I'm done with that, I'll have to split it into 5 chunks. -_- Sooo yeah, do not expect regular updates.
…I realize I've also added a chapter to the AWSW spinoff Home But Not Home. Procrastination... is a terrible, terrible thing.
Replies to reviews:
If you are reading this and the massive A/N I turned into a chapter is no longer there (because it will ultimately be deleted), then don't fret if you don't know what I'm talking about. I made an announcement in April 2022 to declare a temporary hiatus to Aimless while I go and prepare my original story for commercial serialization. The fact it is no longer there means I've finished the prep work, the story is up, and Aimless is on a regular update schedule.
If that A/N "chapter" is still there, then my prep work is not yet done. Lol.
Drakenguard. Thank you!
Hitler's Moustache. Indeed it is for that story you're thinking of. I'll be making slight adjustments for the commercial version since it is considered way too intense.
Definitely will remain a dark/mature story though. Part of my research for the chapters ahead of what's currently available online includes ransom videos published by terrorist groups, PTSD, mental health in third-world countries (which is nonexistent because it's considered a "rich country" thing, and even in present times the concept is just beginning to gain acceptance), and suicide.
Don't worry about not finishing it. It isn't for everyone. Some people thrive on the way it feels just like IRL, though.
Mintmaddog. Sure, go ahead and catch up on the rest of the fic!
Don't be intimidated by the great lengths that Aimless has accumulated over the years I poured into the story. At its core, it is as it is intended: a story in which you read what you want to read. The chapter categories and the timestamps will be helpful. :D
Thank you for the review, and the congratulations. ^^
Bronzeheart92. Hello there! Thanks for the review.
Interesting development indeed. A shame I'm still neck-deep in the OG story work. It would've been nice to have Aimless on a regular update schedule again…
Anyway, it sucks that the war's still ongoing even now. -_- Russia and China are holding back the world nowadays. A lot of the inflation we're seeing can be traced back to them.
Certainly, a lot of dragon names are truly like that, even in TLoS canon. "Ignite" for Ignitus, "Terra" for Terrador, "Volt" for Volteer, "Malevolent" for Malefor, "Cinder" for Cynder (a partly burned combustible? Damn!)... and my own contributions to it via Aimless canon simply add on to it.
Hehe, I can imagine Joshua talking to Kilat about it—hey, hey, hey, WAIT A MINUTE.
…I guess that's Random Musings #3 now XDDDD
Yoshifu101. Thanks so much for your review, and for the compliments. :)
I'm hoping I'll get through the legal process properly. The editorial staff still has to comb through my work. I've already split up my first three chapters into a total of fifteen. I've yet to go through the other seven...
It's a lot of work T_T I'm actually procrastinating it. ^^;;
LoNeWoLf (Guest). (to CH53) Yeah. Things like element conversion or "death touch" are out of reach for Joshua at the 52-day mark.
He might get better though, at least with things that aren't conceptually as difficult.
Guest #1 (Guest). The Unknown Element is overpowered in many respects and has already been compared to Convexity (Spyro's element) a few times in-universe.
The only real limiter here is Joshua's human mind, which is probably the only thing that remains unchanged from his transmigration.
Guest #2 (Guest). Thank you for checking in. I'm doing fine :) Still alive, and still stressed with IRL duties + the chapter splitting. Well, you got the update you wanted. XD
Don't expect it to be a regular thing just yet.
Kebarton. Thanks for checking in! I'm still doing well enough.
Yuvalyly. (to CH22) Would you have thought that as a 15-year old teenager though? And isn't it also possible for smart people to realize that video games are mainly works of fiction? It just takes a little slip-up much later down the road…
Oh, and thank you for the glowing comment about my story. I hope you continue to enjoy it as you keep reading it. The story is split between slice-of-life and serious stuff, so go and read what you want. Just pay attention to the timestamp!