The sounds of conflict echoed out. The dying screams of short, stout creatures rang out as a blur of purple and scales tore their way across the battlefield. The smaller creatures, Grublins they were called, were felled by roaring waves of fire, impaled by jagged shards of ice, rendered immobilized by bolts of electricity, and swallowed by the very earth they stood upon. A clawed, purple hand found its way around one of the diminutive creatures throats, lifting it off its stubby feet to stare into the angry violet eyes of its destroyer. No words were exchanged, as with a shard twist of the wrist, the Grublins neck snapped. The small creature falling limply on the ground.
Breathing in a calming breath, the harsh eyes of the purple scaled dragon softened. Turning sad as he turned to the cause of his previous rage. A pair of dragons, both male and female, lay before him. Their bodies riddled with jagged cuts and large bruises. The male was unfortunately dead, but the female still clung to life. Though just barely.
"You're supposed to be dead…" She said as she address her purple savior. "Lost in the final battle of the war." Battle, war… what was she talking about? He didn't know, or rather he couldn't remember. Seeing his confusion, the injured female's eyes softened. "You don't remember? You've forgotten haven't you?"
" Yes." The purple dragon said after a long pause. His voice betraying how young he actually was. "My mind is… fractured… damaged… I don't recall much of anything about my past." He stated as he tried tending to her wounds. Lamenting at how severe they were. "I don't even know my own name."
"Spyro." She said weekly, causing him to look at her. "Your name… it's Spyro… and you're a hero to our kind." Looking into her eyes, he could see she wasn't lying, wasn't making this up just to comfort him or something.
"Spyro…" The word felt… natural on his lips. Almost as if he's said it countless times before. "Hero…" But that word left a sour note on his tongue. For some reason, he didn't feel like a hero. Maybe it was due to some past trauma, or maybe it was because- "Some hero I am. I can't do anything to save you…"
"That's alright…" Her words surprised him. "I knew even before you joined the fight, that I wouldn't survive. My only concern was… this." She unfurled her hands, revealing the speckled pink egg clutched tenderly but firmly in her grasp.
"An egg? But… wait you don't want me to…" Her eyes were pleading. Desperately asking the silent question he knew she couldn't bring herself to vocalize. "Okay… I'll do it… I'll watch over your child."
"Thank you… I know you won't be able to take them away anytime soon." Her gaze trailed towards his ripped and mangled wing, grimacing at both the sight of it and the pain her wounds caused her. "But please, watch over them for me. At least until they're strong enough to leave this place on their own." Her final request. All he could do was nod, silently accepting the fragile egg into his possession.
"I will." That was all he could say to her, he wasn't even sure if she could hear him any more. Her last breath leaving her the moment she passed her egg off to him. "Damn it…" He cursed as a tear ran down his cheek.
The purple dragon… no Spyro, left the bloodied clearing, leaving the scattered bodies behind. Promising to come back for the two dragons once he made sure the egg was in a safe place. As he came upon his cave den on the shoreline, he cursed his inability to fly. If he could only get off the ground, he may have been able to make it in time. He could've saved them. Hell, if he could fly, he'd have left this accursed island long ago.
Looking out at the sea, he saw what can only be described as a stone dock poking out of the water. He'd originally intended to bridge the gap between the island he was on and the visible mainland in the distance. But that plan was scrapped as every time he got to a certain point across the ocean, a monstrous sea creature would appear, destroying his hard work, and chasing him back ashore. Even now he could see the creatures fin, poking out of the water, almost taunting him.
"Instead of lamenting what you couldn't do in the past, why not focus on what you need to do now." A voice echoed in his mind. With a sigh, he turned to his shadow on the ground. That almost seemed to be detached from his physical form. While he was standing, it was in a sitting position. Glowing white orbs where its eyes should be, stared back at him.
"What do you want Shadow?" He said, wondering if he was insane, talking to his literal shadow. He knew that it… they, were something… more. Something dark. But for the last year or so, they'd been his only companion, the only one with whom he could talk to.
"For you to stop moping around. You're so focused on your failures of today and the past, instead you should focus on the precious cargo in your grasp." They said gesturing to the egg in Spyros grip. "You couldn't help their parents, and that is a tragedy, but you can help them. Raise them, nurture them, teach them. And when they're strong enough, let them go. Release them into the world."
"You make it sound so simple… I don't even know how to raise a hatchling."
"We doubt anybody does at first. But WE can figure it out. WE have to. For their sake." Spyro let out a sigh, knowing they were right. So he squared his shoulders and raised his head. Steeling himself for the greatest challenge of his life… he thinks. Fatherhood.