Harild was not sure which was more annoying, watching Horhe try and eat, or watching the way the new guy was acting.

On one han...paw, Harild was tearing strips out of the meat one of the foxes had given him, slowly chewing on it and some plants while also trying to grumble about how he could have done it better if he had just gotten people to stop fighting him.

On the other, the new guy, Marshal, was walking around talking to different people as he helped the foxes hand out the food. He looked lost, almost being pushed around by the foxes, and his friends seemed to be helping in some way, practically copying what he was doing but much more awkwardly. And to top it off, every time they got close to those that were in worse condition, be it from injury or because they had never worked for their food, Marshal would spend extra time talking to them, and the worse off would get that really strange dragon doing his mist-heal crap.

It made no sense to him; when he woke up, most of these...dragons were more likely to ignore everyone around them than they were to do anything. Almost as soon as the new guy gets in, it's a one-eighty, and they start looking ready for...well something.

As Horhe finally swallowed the last of his meal, he was almost ready to confront the wind user, but then the fire breath spoke clearly without anything in his mouth, "This is ridiculous, that damn nerd, what right does have."

Harild's head jerked and looked at Horhe, "You actually recognize him?"

Horhe shrugged, "Not really, his name sounds familiar…"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harild saw Marshal do what seemed like a double-take. He was about to see what the dragon was looking at when she made herself known to most of the cave.

"Marshal Grounder Fabree!" Harild did not recognize the voice, but Marshal apparently did by how he seemed to hunch in for a second before he turned to look at the approaching dragoness. She was almost a crystal white; her horns looked like Marshal's just backward. Her tail seemed to be a small hammer. Her fins also looked like Marsh's. And her wings almost looked clear, and they had what looked like hooks on them. She was ever so slightly shorter than Marshal.

Horhe's smile was almost evil, "So that's why I recognize the name. This I got to see." He was quickly up and moving close, hoping to hear and see what was happening. Harild, with nothing better to do, followed him.

They got there just hear time to hear Marshal say, "Hello Tribon." Just before the now named dragoness slaps, the bigger dragon right across the face.

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Marshal almost wanted to say the slap did not hurt, but he could not. It stung like only Tribon's slaps could. He worked his jaw, trying to release the sting before responding, "I? Guess I deserve that?"

Tribon's eye's almost glared at him, "You think? What other response is there for me having to find out not only that you were here, but also that you've gone and done some incredibly stupid things."

Marshal sighed lightly and raised a paw to scratch his chin, "To be fair, I didn't really know you were here either."

"Hardly the point!" Her voice took on a volume that was strangely off, but very loud. Marshall could almost see the sound waves coming out of her mouth...though he had no idea why they would have a light blueish color.

Thankfully, he was saved from a full-blown argument by Spyro, who seemed to chuckle, "It's so nice to see that sibling arguments don't change, no matter the species."

Tribon's glare transitioned to the purple dragon, Marshal almost saw a flash of recognition in her eyes, but the glare did not change.

Marshal, while a tad surprised Spyro knew so quickly, decided it was probably best to get involved before Tribon really got angry, "Spyro, this is my sister, Tribon. Tribon, Spyro." He moved slightly and pointed to Cynder, who was nearby looking like she was trying not to laugh, "That's Cynder, and…" He turned again and pointed to the last dragon who's been following them, "That's Cypha." He turned and looked back at his sister, "They've been helping me."

Tribon's eyes jumped between the different dragons, and in doing so, they noticed a rather good-sized crowd they seemed to have gathered around them. Marshal was kind of ignoring them, but Tribon's face seemed to shift to confusion, "What? A sister can get after her younger brother?"

Marshal could not help but laugh before he turned to look at everyone around them, "It's all good everyone, shows over. If you've gotten something to eat, I would recommend getting some sleep. Come morning. I'm going to see what can be done about making sure you all have an easier time about things. And that may very well include learning a thing or two about those fun little abilities we all got, hell, might even see a few people end up on their face…" Then with a smirk, "Hopefully not myself, but no promises."

That seemed to get a few chuckles and do the trick. The crowd started to disperse.

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Marshal was unsure which disturbed him more, the way all of the other kids seemed to have so few problems with listing to him or the sheer number of kids within the cave or even the fact that so many of them either were related or seemed to know each other. He had not been able to talk to all of them, he got lucky he only had to speak to a small pawful of them, but he got the impression that all of them were from the same general location of Earth.

And that there is what confused him the most, how it was only those from the greater LA county was transported, and why no one was over the age of 18. It was all oldy specific. So much so that he had to make a mental note to see if he could figure why.

But that would be for a later time when they were no longer hold up next to a rural village and next to no method to defend themselves.

"Hello, you still with us, Marshal?"

Marshal blinked a few times while shaking his head, bring his attention back to where it should be, walking with his sister, with Spyro, Cynder, and a reluctant Cypha following along towards the area of the cave that she and several other friends had claimed.

He looked to her, "Yea, sorry about that. What were you saying?"

Tribon rolled her eyes, well used to her little brother's antics, and went right back into explaining which of their friends and family had been sent here and what they had all done/survived. Marshal was mildly shocked to learn that of the direct family only one cousin, Jake, had arrived (still has prideful as ever even though his ability to wield his new element of shadow was laughable at best), while of the friends, outside of Josef, all of them were family friends. Granted, there were only a few of them, but at least they were not completely alone.

Marshal had to force his brain to not go on another tangent as Tribon continued to talk. Cause yes, it was interesting that it was family friends, but it was also kind of sad that it was only one group of family friends. Thankfully he did not mind. He had always preferred this group of them anyways.

It was good to see and know they were alright, but it also made him concerned about the rest of their families.

He quickly became less worried about how his travel companions would settle into the new group. It quickly became apparent that while Cynder was a bit nervous, Spyro's open and friendly personality more than made up for her. With Cypha already working on going to sleep at the very edge of the group, things were going smoothly.

Now, if only he could keep attention on the group instead of always getting distracted. His brain being dump was not entirely to blame, which made it worse while also confusing the crap out of him! Why was it every time he got near one friend, his attention would go stupid!

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It was getting late, and yet, he still could not pull himself away from the balcony overlooking the city. They had finally managed to put the last fire out three days ago. Ancestor's blasted thing had been burning underneath someone's personal manurer storage, the smell and smoke had been awful.

Yesterday they had been able to get an account for the last missing civilian. A poor mole pulled out barely alive from crushed masonry shop.

Today they were able to get at least temporary shelters for everyone. The Warfang Temple, a building, originally meant to be a small waypoint for someone from the Dragon Temple to stay and conduct some quick business, was being used to house and support many of the homeless. They were struggling to either repair/remake barracks or expand existing buildings, most notably the Warfang temple (which, he was also unhappy to note, was quickly transitioning in everyone's mind to be the Main Temple) in a timely manner.

The old dragon let loose a great sigh, even as his body and magic groaned. He had not used his magic in such a manner or need to do so much manual labor in centuries, and everything hurt because of it. He was the Guardian of Earth damn it, not a construction worker!

"So it's not just me feeling like the sky is still falling, good."

The old dragon flinched slightly as he quickly turned his head to look at the new arrival, instantly relaxing, "Ah, Cyril. I see you've managed to escape the council for today."

The old ice dragon snorted, "Escaped my tale. I had to call the guard to escort the popups fools to their quarters! Ancestor blasted idiots were going around in circles and boring me to tears!"

The Earth Guardian let out a chuckle, "Oh, to be young again."

This time it was Cyril who sighed, "Terrador, youth has nothing to do with this. Not everyone has the same surety of direction as us. Even the city elders are confused. You know our situation as well as I do."

Terrador grunted in exasperation, "Let an old warrior dream for a bit. My bones still ake from fighting that blasted golem."

Cyril's faux gasp and false look of horror near made the old earth dragon laugh, "Oh the same! We should be grateful you only got hit with magic and fell to the earth instead of getting, oh, I don't know slapped through a bridge and into a street!"

Terrador almost grew concerned for his fellow Guardian, but the giant mischievous smile on his friend's face made him change what he would say, "How is Volteer's injuries by the way? Has his tail finally recovered?"

The two of them held a straight face for all of a second. Then they both nearly lost it at remembering how Volteer had gotten through the entire siege without an injury only to trip on some cobblestone while escorting people back from the undercity, landing in an unused cart on the side of the street and promptly getting bit by the rock beatle which had been taking refuge within.

Cyril had to let out a few coughs to cover his laughs before responding, "Our inability to go without injury aside, we aren't getting any younger."

Terrador turned his attention back out over the city, "Hmmmm, this is true. And still no sign of…" He could not bring himself to say their names. It hurt every time to talk about them. And even more so when their resident Dragonfly was around.

Cyril shook his head, "Another day and still no sign. We know they've won, but at what cost."

Terrador took a deep breath as if centering himself, "Then we keep waiting. Ignitus never gave up, Sparx will never give up, so we mustn't either. Until we know for certain, we will prepare for both the worst and the best."

Cyril's nod of agreement was firm. They would not fail again. "Agreed. And on that note, we must find a Temporary Fire Guardian. And we need to do something about those...refuges."

Terrador's head turned to look over the part of the city currently holding almost a thousand dragons. A thousand dragons which all seemed to be experiencing some sort of displacement syndrome for they knew nothing of where they were or what was going on. It was strange, while all of them were adults, some barely, all of them were having to relearn what should have been already known to any trained dragon.

Terrador blinked then smiled, Cyril noticed and slowly turned his head to look at the old warrior waiting for him to speak. "What if we can, take care of both situations at once? It might also get the council moving?"

Cyril's eyes widened slightly, as realization dawned him, "You want to make one of the refuges the Temporary Fire Guardian? But they know near nothing of the intricacies of their magic. And even less so of what they could do around the city."

"Cyril, tell me honestly, of the dragons in the city, how many of them would be able to teach their magic?"

That brought Cyril up short. He had to think hard. The Guardians did not know every dragon in the city, but by now, they know of any dragon with any amount of power. And while there were undoubtedly younglings who had the potential to become acolytes of the Temple, maybe even Guardians if better candidates were never found. There were no dragons, young or old, who would be able to take on the role of a full-fledged Guardian.

Terrado, seeing the realization come into Cyril's face, smiled light, "You see my point. Besides, the Temporary Guardian wouldn't need to have in-depth knowledge, merely the ability to find it."

Cyril sighed, "True. Additionally, by appointing one of the refugees, we'd be sending a message to the whole city. That even if no-one knows what to do, there is always something one can do to help."

Terrador nodded, "Not only that...we need someone to start working on the scroll-work."

Cyril seized up, he had forgotten about the mountain of scrolls piling up in their office. Scrolls that they needed to review, sign, or just plain pass on to the correct office in the city. Unfreezing himself, and coughing into his paw lightly, "So, any ideas on who we should approach? I haven't met all of the refugees, but I do know the magic users are varied and if we are only looking for fire…?"

Terrador smiled, "Well if you're agreed, I think I know exactly who to go with."

Cyril had to suppress the shiver that ran through his spine, "We don't need another warrior."

Terrador's smile only grew, "Oh, he's not a warrior, but he is an experienced leader. Both he and his mate have already started helping with organizing the refugees, so I figured why not give him some official work to go with it!"

Cyril's sigh was mighty, "Alright then. Bring him over tomorrow. I'll see if I can't drag that electric eel away from wherever he's hiding this time."

Terrador slapped his tail against the floor, excited, "Good. Then tomorrow, we move forward!"

Terrador's smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. It's too bad; it was a fake smile. There was an unease he could not shake, and he worried greatly about a darkness on the horizon he could only see at the edge of his vision.

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Destruction...furry...flesh yielding to something stronger...shock...winds whipping around...death...destruction...power...dragons scattered...taste of blood...death...SCREEEEE!

The rupture of wakefulness was not peaceful. Marshal's head stapped up with all the rudeness of an explosion. As he worked to bring his breathing back under control, his head swung around, trying to figure out what was going on.

Yet, he could see or hear nothing which would have done it. The "camp" (for lack of a better term) was calm and still sleeping. Even when he looked at the group he was sleeping with, they too were still sleeping. Yet, to his surprise, Spyro and Cynder were still sleeping, he had them pegged as light sleepers. The fact that Cypha was off to the side sleeping on one of the rare rock formations was, in a way, less strange than the legendary couple showing they were comfortable enough to sleep deeply. Even if the position Cypha were sleeping in would make a cat envious, how someone could sleep while twisting in five different directions and corkscrewed he did not know.

Seeing all calm, Marshal had no choice but to force himself to think. He was usually a hefty sleeper, except in certain conditions. His most prevalent has been immediate danger (and sometimes not even to himself annoyingly enough). It was already affirmed there was no danger. The next one was when he needed to wake up at a set time, but that was right out; he had no reliable way to keep time, so why would he need to be up at a set time.

That led him to option three, a dream. Nightmares are known to wake people up at night. Marshal was no exception. His exception fell in the realms of type and the ability to remember it partially and thus "modify" his mindset not to have a repeat. And here was his issue, he could not remember. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure he was dreaming...something. And there inlined the problem, it felt less like a dream or a nightmare, it had been too vague.

For Marshal, all of his dreams (even the most outlandish) were exceptionally vivid. But what had woken him had no images, no "story," no realization of "control." All he remembered was feelings. He knew, knew, there was the context in there somewhere, but he was unable to pull it back to the surface. He felt like he was grasping at the wind and trying to catch something without real subsistence; without the aid of magic.

It was frustrating for the young dragon. It was getting so bad that after a bit, he had to take a deep breath and let it go. He concluded that he was not going to be able to pull something where there was nothing at that time. And so, he moved on.

Marshal took another look around, no one was up still, not even his friends. That was fine. He was always an early riser. He saw his eyes drawn, again, to the dragoness that had been distracting him for most of yesterday.

She was a long time family friend. Her scales were a shade of emerald, had a set of four short spikes coming out of her head, two on top and two to the side, standard looking wings, a tail looking like a pick, and was about a head shorter than Marshal. Decra, for that, was her name, had practically grown up with Marshal and Jake. All three of them were the same age. Decra's little sister Cheen was also there and had rarely left any of their sights.

Marshal had to close his eyes and shake his head to drag his thoughts back again, his ability to stare crept even him out at times. His friends were his friends; right now, he had to worry about more than that. Yesterday showed that, for some reason, he somehow had to help all of the rest of the dragons in the area. Why they seemed to be looking to him, the self-proclaimed introverted nerd that he was, was something he would probably be confused about for a long time. But for now, he needed a clear head, and for that, he needed to be elsewhere.

So, with a sigh, Marshal slowly got up and moved away from his group of friends, trying to be as silent as possible.

So concentrated on his movement and thoughts, he never noticed an amethyst eye following him.

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For once in some time, Claw was in a decent mood. The village council was no longer breathing down his neck hairs. The hunters were sharpening their weapons for the days hunt without complaint, heck they almost seemed...excited? The children were definitely excited about, something.

As Claw moved through the village towards the "dragon field," as some of his kin were call it now, he quickly realized why everyone was the way they were. Somehow, the dragons bring back an entire herd of Dragon Deer ("small" herd though it was) had invigorated everyone. Where once creatures were dragging and annoyed, now they were eagerly ready for the day.

Claw stopped near the edge of the village as he looked out beyond the sea of dragons. But more importantly, he caught sight of the one dragon who seemed to have made things change. He could clearly see the wind dragon Marshal sitting in between the hoard (for what better term for such a large group of dragons than a hoard) and the village. The young dragon sat there, looking at one of his paws, glowing with Magic in rapidly shifting patterns and with a look of deep contemplation on his face.

The leader of the foxes watched the young leader of the adolescent dragons in his own compilation. It stuped him how, almost instantly, after the more immature creature arrived, companions along with him, the others all seemed to breathe a second life. He knew both Harlid, Horhe, and several others had tried to do something similar to what Marshal had done yesterday and failed. Granted, most of them had been heavy-handed, seemed condescending, or had been straight up badgering.

Marshal's approach seemed to be heavily reliant in a mix of logic and prompting people to think/figure things out for themselves. It was one method of leading, and somehow it worked for these youngsters. The fact that Marshal also, more or less, drove a proverbial spear into their pride with some of what he was saying, might have also been a significant piece of it now that Claw thought about it.

However Marshal did it, Claw was thankful. Motivating the dragons, and showing to the village what they could do when properly stimulated, he had gotten the entire community fired up themselves. It almost sparked a form of competition between the two, if he wanted to be completely honest.

And yet, Claw felt like he was missing something. He honestly thought that it could not have just been Marshal's words or even his actions, which seemed to get them moving. That was the most confusing thing for him. He did not know what it could be he was missing, but he knew he had to be missing something.

Well, either way, he could only sit around in his own contemplation for so long. With a reminder of what the village was going to need for the day, Claw moved away from the edge of the village and headed towards the young wind dragon.

Despite how deep in thought he seemed to be, Marshal noticed Claw just before the fox truly got to him.

Claw was thankful that he did not have to try and catch the dragon's attention, "Marshal. Glad I don't have to try and track you down in the see of scales."

Marshal chuckled lightly as the paw he had been looking at and using magic with, reached to the back of his head to scratch in an embarrassed manner, "I can see how that would be a pain. Morning to you too, Claw. I'm guessing there's something you need if you're coming over already."

Claw was mildly impressed at how quickly the other figured it out, though knowing how much the dragon was able to follow "logical paths" was not too surprising. "Correct. We're hoping to get some help from you all today. Seeing as what you were able to do yesterday…"

Marshal interrupted Claw, "If we worked together, we'd be able to get more done." At Claws sharp nod, Marshal took a breath and adequately responded. "I can't see why not. We'll have to ask around and see who's willing to help out. It might be better for a mix of age groups depending on the task."

Claw noticed Marshal's eyes almost start to glaze over, and his head starts to tilt sideways. He was virtually sure that Marshal was beginning to have rapid thoughts.

Marshal, however, seemed to stop himself before he went too far. He had more to say. "We'll figure it out. But I think there's another area we need to work on." Claw almost asked, but thankfully Marshal continued, "I noticed most the others grasp on their powers is… let's just say it's bad. And If what I was able to see when taking on those deer yesterday was any indication, almost all of us suck at fighting."

Claw could quickly see where this was going, so this time he interrupted Marshal, "So you want to work on your group's overall magical and killing ability?"

Marshal's head bobbed side to side, "Sort of yes, sort of no. I want to train us to defend ourselves at the very least. But I also want to work even harder with the older kids to protect those who can't or shouldn't fight. I'm hoping, even if you can't directly train us, that you can at least work with us and maybe provide some ideas."

Claw raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't you be able to teach the same way you learned."

Marshal's sigh was almost epic, "No, sadly. We never...really learned...or was taught really, anything we may know about defending ourselves. I can easily say for myself, everything I know or done has either been instinct or figuring out as I went along."

Claw quickly caught on to the fact that there was a lot Marshal was not saying. He could also tell the young dragon was trying his hardest to not outright lie, and while most people hated lies of omission, Claw could accept them. He had to make so many of them as Leader he could not fault anyone.

Before Claw could respond, a new voice dropped in, "You know, that explains a few things."

Both Marshal and Claw stapped their heads to look at the interloper. Marshal's sigh of relief and dar claw say it, shock, was almost defining, "Spyro. Didn't even think you were up."

Spyro moved close to them as he gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, "I figured as much when you wandered off from the group. But you had this deep look of contraction on you that I couldn't help but watch and see what you were doing."

Marshal chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head again.

Spyro merely gave a good-natured chuckle as he continued, "As it is if you need helping with teaching, I can probably pass on what the guardians taught me. I can also say you've already gotten started on figuring something about teaching, given what you worked out with Cynder and...audio?"

Marshal hmmed and nodded in acknowledgment. Then responded, "True. I was sort of using that and a bit of my own experience in figuring out my power in trying to identify a place to start. Try to create a base so that everyone can at least control and use their powers, and then we can expand from there as we figure things out."

Claw's agreeing nod was sharp, "That should work. And while we may not be able to use your magic, that doesn't mean we can't help in other ways. I'm sure I can get some of our hunters to help. It'll probably do them good to get some sparring in themselves."

Claw almost missed the smile that flashed across Marshal's face before the dragon responded, "Then, at least we have somewhere to start." Something seemed to catch his eye, and he turned to look towards the hoard.

Claw looked and noticed, as well. The Hoard was starting to wake up.

Marshal sighed, "But before we can get to training. I think we got work on...a few other things." He turned and looked to the fox with a raised eyeridge.

Claw merely grunted and decided they'd waited long enough. It was time to start working on them living. They could worry about training later.

AN: I LIVE!

Sorry I had to say that. And also sorry for the massive delay in this. Almost two years since the last update on this, and nearly a year since my previous update, period. Dear Lord, where does the time fly. I sincerely apologize for that. My only reasoning...video games mostly.

Well, that's not entirely true, this chapter beat the crap out of me. There were so many times as I was writing this I wanted to stop and just do a massive time jump to the end of the arc. This time frame in the story, this arc, is all about bases and laying foundations, and I suck at that. Beginning interactions will probably always be a week point, but I need to work on it; otherwise, you'll be missing out on a lot of background.

Speaking of background, I hope you like all the little tidbits I've put in. Some of them came to me randomly. Others are part of planned plot points. There will probably be points of the story that will be laid out similar to how this ended up, i.e., jumping points of view so that I can skip time and let specific thoughts and actions happen outside the reader's perspective. I'm not trying to hide things honestly. I'm just using that to jump over some of my inability to type and instead GET TO THE POINT OF THE STORY.

I've started to notice that in my writing, I like to describe body language with as much emotional description as I can. I have only just seen this recently, and yet I feel it's precious. Our body langue is as much of how we speak as our tone of voice. We all know how nervous nod is different from a simple yes nod even if we don't always realize it. If you all start to feel like it's taking away from the story, let me know, and I'll try and limit it a bit more.

In other news, yes, I am working on my other stories (as long as the description doesn't abandoned anyways). Please know that while I may be slow at times unless I'm dead (hopefully not for a long time even in the chaos that is 2020), I'll keep coming back and working on my stories. I like typing too much to stop.

And that's all I got for now. Hopefully, given current schedules (and copious amounts of coffee), I'll be able to get more out soon (we all know how that's been going). So, until we meet again, Happy Reading!