Two more days passed, and things had gone well in Forzen's training sessions with Muras. They'd continued sessions on the lightning element, mainly because it was so far the only element that he and Muras shared. Muras had tried to help him a little bit on wind, but due to him having no actual knowledge on the element or tips on how to use it, he figured it would be best to leave the wind element sessions to Cynder. Forzen was not looking forward to those. Sound hadn't been focused on at all since the very first training session upon his arrival on Glaenday.

Muras had also taught him other things as well; they had spent more time reading through Identification Fountain, as well as flight, and many other important things that he would need to be able to navigate in his life. Most of these were things Jaarsol hadn't taught him, whether it was due to time, no space to practice in terms of flying, other things getting in the way, or it wasn't important at the time.

The first thing Forzen had learned was the days of the week. Each day was named after a notable ancestor or draconic god. The week was comprised of the days Glaenday, named after Glaenfel, the goddess of peace; Vielday, named after Viello'an, the first fire dragon; Marouday, named after Marou'an, Viello'an's great-grandson and the dragon who discovered the ancestral gems; Xurday, named after Xur'gotha, an ancient light dragoness who led her kind in a war against fire dragons; Lorinday, named after Lorin'var, the goddess of love; Laoday, named after Laoghra, the draconic god of magic; and Aloeday, named after Aloelle, the first purple dragon. Laoday and Aloeday were the weekends, where most people were able to have the day off from work or school.

Forzen was still struggling to get his head around the names, but he could remember that today was Xurday, only because Muras had said it yesterday.

Muras had also been getting Forzen out in the open a bit more recently. Forzen wasn't sure if he was ready for it yet—he'd been out while going to the training arena and back to Muras' house, and he already felt like that was enough.

Everyone gave him odd looks as he walked through Warfang: looks of concern, looks of fear, and some of the looks he was given were… threatening.

He knew why he was receiving those looks: people were scared of him.

Word had most likely spread that he was Spyro's son—in a city like this, Forzen was positive word would spread quicker than he could track it—and it had left many citizens worried that he was a spy in hiding or a vessel of power on the verge of breaking.

Right now however, Muras and Forzen were on their way to the Warfang Academy to meet with the principal before the school week began on Glaenday. My twelfth hatch-day, Forzen thought, and almost instantly regretted thinking those words.

He was sure this hatch-day would be a horrible day for him, just like all the others before it were. Being his first day of school, being an outcast, being forced to be in closed rooms with all these kids he had never met, that he knew would hate him… it was just asking for him to be beaten. It was the last thing Forzen wanted, but he was already mentally preparing himself for it, even though his hatch-day wasn't for another four days.

I've been beaten almost every hatch-day for my entire life. What's one more hatch-day to be beaten on? he thought with a scowl.

How many times are you going to say that to yourself? the other part of his brain snapped at him. How many more hatch-days are you going to get beaten on, where you'll brush it off and say it's fine because every other hatch-day has been the same? It's not normal!

At this point, I've stopped caring.

He knew how horrible kids could be; he'd spent enough time with other kids to know what they were like. They only cared for themselves and always put down those who were different, never listening to the outcasts. And he was the outcast. Not only was he new, but he was Spyro's son. He was as much a victim of Spyro as they were, but they wouldn't see that because Spyro was his father. No matter how much Forzen tried to correct them or tell them the truth, they would just shut him down and attack him, verbally or physically.

These were teenagers too. He knew they would be even worse.

Forzen was there were no students roaming the halls freely, allowing him to be able to walk the halls safely, with Muras by his side. He was already overwhelmed enough as it was; the school building was ginormous. There were signs with arrows saying where everything was: all the classrooms, the offices, the lunch hall.

They walked down a hall that contained all of the teachers' offices, before they came to a stop at the one labelled 'Principal: Hyrath V'alkryn'. Forzen swallowed hard as Muras knocked on the door, feeling sweat dripping down his face.

"Come in," came the muffled call.

Muras opened the door, revealing a medium-sized, neatly kept office, where Cynder, Torialis, and another earth dragon, presumably the principal, sat waiting for them. Cynder appeared to have a frustrated, angry look on her face, but from what Forzen had seen of her already, he assumed she always looked like that. He was incredibly nervous about being around her yet again. He didn't need the nerves she gave him upon the nerves of speaking with another dragon he didn't know.

"Ah, Muras. You're here at last," Hyrath said. "I take it this is young Forzen?"

"Yes, Master Hyrath. It's my pleasure to meet you," Muras replied politely, nodding his head slightly.

Hyrath just blinked at Muras. "Likewise," he deadpanned, his tone speaking different words to what he actually said. "Now, come and sit down. Let's chat for a bit."

Muras nodded and moved forward into the room, before sitting down, taking one of the two spare seats of the four chairs laid out in front of the principal's desk. Forzen followed closely behind, wincing as he saw the only spare seat was between him and Cynder, with Torialis sitting on the opposite side of Cynder.

Finally, he sat down, feeling dwarfed in the room as both Cynder and Muras sat either side of him, and Hyrath directly in front of him. Forzen looked up at the principal and gulped under his judgemental gaze. He had only been in Hyrath's presence for a few seconds and he already didn't like the principal.

"Welcome, young Forzen," the principal spoke, forcing Forzen out of his thoughts. "My name is Master Hyrath. I'm the principal of the Warfang Academy, as well as the Ancient Dragon History teacher. I trust you will enjoy your time here and that you will behave well and politely."

Forzen blinked. He could very much pick up the threat that was hidden underneath the sentence.

"Before we get too far into anything, I must ask if you have had any prior lessons involving our society and culture," Hyrath continued. "More importantly, you will need to be literate. It's all assumed knowledge that parents will normally teach their children to read and write, but knowing your… situation… you may not have that. Torialis has already filled me in about your situation."

Forzen stayed silent, staring awkwardly at his paws, before Muras nudged him gently in the shoulder with his elbow. "He wants you to answer him, Forzen," Muras whispered.

"Oh, um…" Forzen stammered nervously, looking up at Hyrath and feeling the sweat drip down his face once more. "I don't know too much about the culture here or… how things work. But… I am somewhat literate, I guess. I can read okay, and I've done a little bit of writing, but I wouldn't be able to do it too well at the moment."

"Okay, then. Muras, I hear you're his mentor right now and that he's living with you, am I correct in that assumption?" Hyrath questioned.

"Yes, Master Hyrath," Muras replied.

"Well, until Glaenday, I want you to make sure he can read and write fairly decently. Most dragons his age will have already had two years of school, as well as past learning experiences with their parents, so he's already behind."

"I've already been doing some reading with him, and I can definitely get to work on helping him learn to write," Muras said. "He's a fast learner; I believe he'll be able to pick it up quickly."

"I will hold you to that for when he starts classes on Glaenday," Hyrath said, with a sense of a threat underneath his words, before he stood and addressed Forzen. "Now, I will take you on a brief tour around the school, but one of your peers will give you a more detailed tour on Glaenday once you start."

Frozen gulped after that last piece of information, knowing that none of the students here would like him, and would likely not treat him well. He was sure there wouldn't even be anyone willing enough to give him a tour. But, not wanting to get into trouble, he said nothing, before standing and following Hyrath, as did Muras, Cynder and Torialis, who all shadowed behind him and Hyrath.

They walked out of the office hall and down the class hall. Hyrath pointed out all the different classrooms: the Physical Education courts, the Magic Studies and Science labs, the Maths, Literacy and History classrooms, and the Combat arenas. The lunch hall was the next thing: a huge room filled with tables, and a kitchen to the side of it.

The tour had gone alright, Forzen had to admit. It was very intimidating knowing that he would be starting school soon, and Muras wouldn't be there with him. Forzen knew Muras was way past the schooling age and would have already been through school, as well as the fact that he didn't want to seem weak by needing an adult there with him all the time, but the idea of being alone in a place where no one knew him scared him. The idea of being alone in a place where everyone would hate him scared him. The only people that he had ever felt comfortable around was Gur'ath and Jaarsol, and they were both gone. And as much as he didn't like to admit it, Muras was slowly sneaking into his list of trustworthy people. He wanted Muras to be there with him.

Forzen had been as polite on the tour as possible, wanting to make the best impression of himself as he could, but he just couldn't suppress the nerves and shyness as well. He didn't exactly want to be known as someone who was always so self-conscious and nervous, but he knew that was exactly who he was.

As they walked out of the school once the tour had finished, Forzen noticed a few young dragons, definitely in their older teenage years by their size and body structure, just across the courtyard where the school was. They glared at him, and Forzen already felt himself shrinking. He looked back towards Muras and followed him, not wanting to look at the teens.

Back on the road again, Muras had suddenly decided he wanted to go out and buy lunch today. Forzen was heavily against that idea, not wanting to be in a place where so many people would see him, but Muras forced him along, knowing that if Forzen was going to live here, he needed to get used to being in society, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

Muras just didn't understand! He didn't know what it was like to get those hateful or fearful looks headed his way, having silent judgements made when people only look at him, and having parents calmly move their children away at the sight of him, despite pure fear and hatred being evident in their gazes, betraying their calm stature.

Not wanting to argue and make a fool of himself in public, Forzen reluctantly agreed. It wasn't like he was having much of a choice anyway; Muras would have gone whether Forzen wanted to or not, and there was absolutely no way Forzen was going to walk back home on his own.

When they got to the restaurant, the noise of chatting guests quietened fairly significantly as most of them saw the purple dragon duo walk in. Forzen felt sick. He had a feeling all the dragons here were used to Muras, but him? He felt like they judged him even more so when he took his physical appearance into account, something he hadn't actually done before. Last he saw himself was in a lake when he was wandering the forest before Muras and Cynder found him. He had the same horn structure as Cynder, and they were silver as well. Muras had told Forzen that before he was born, it was apparently common knowledge in Warfang that Spyro and Cynder were mates. Having such a resemblance to Cynder in just the horns only meant it was blindingly obvious who the father was.

Forzen looked over at Muras and saw him scouting the restaurant for a table, and his eyes widened as he spotted one and walked over to it. Forzen followed, wilting under the hundreds of pairs of eyes on him.

He felt even smaller when they walked up to the table to see a large grey dragon sitting at it, eating a big slab of meat. "Aerus, fancy seeing you here!" Muras exclaimed, and the grey dragon replied with a happy greeting.

Muras and this grey dragon, Aerus, obviously knew each other very well and were close friends. Forzen took a closer look at Aerus and had to hold in his gasp as he saw a feature on his body that was all too familiar to him. The horns. Dear ancestors, the horns! They were the same as his and Cynder's! Did that mean that… that Aerus was related to Cynder? Even more so, related to him? Forzen hoped that if Aerus was related to him, that he would at least treat him better than Cynder had been.

It didn't take long for Aerus to finally notice Forzen. He reacted way better than Forzen thought he would, expecting a fearful cry or sudden weariness. A slight air of caution rose up in Aerus, but it was far from as strong as Forzen would have expected.

"I take it you're Forzen?" Aerus asked, to which the younger purple dragon nodded. "I'm Aerus. I guess… I'm your uncle."

"My… my uncle?" Forzen murmured.

"Yes. I'm Cynder's brother."

Forzen nodded, looking down at his paws. He wanted to ask if Cynder at least loved him too, but he immediately decided that would be rude, and he almost didn't want to know what the answer was. It was almost better believing Cynder was a heartless monster that couldn't feel emotions, not even towards her own son.

"Muras told me about you. I know about the situation involving your escape and why you're here, so please don't feel uncomfortable around me," Aerus murmured. "I'm not like my sister, I promise."

"So you know about how she beat me and broke me on Glaenday," Forzen deadpanned.

"Uh… yeah."

"Okay, Muras I don't care if it's with a friend or not, can you not go around talking about the dragoness who used to be my mother that disowned me beating me up, please?" Forzen asked darkly as he turned to Muras with an almost angry expression.

Muras gulped, before he opened his mouth to speak. "Forzen, I—"

"In fact, just don't say anything about my sad, sorry excuse of a life, okay? I am trusting you, the guardians, and against my will, Cynder, with some of the details of my personal life, so don't you dare go spreading them around, okay?"

Aerus gave Muras a very sad, disappointed look, and Muras had to fight back the tears as he realised he'd already violated his mentee's trust.

"Now, are we here to order some damn food or not?" Forzen asked, not even giving Muras a chance to respond to his rant.

"Uh… sure. Yeah, we can order something," Muras stammered.

They then ordered their lunch; Forzen got a chicken salad and Muras got a grilled deer flank. Aerus inquired why Forzen didn't get anything meat-centred and Forzen shyly replied with, "I'm not a fan of meat."

Aerus finished his lunch a little while after they ordered, and pretty soon, he and Muras were deep in conversation. Forzen just sat patiently and waited, not wanting to butt into the private conversation his mentor was in. Aerus suddenly let out a loud yell as he looked towards the corner of the restaurant, obviously seeing someone he recognised. He stood and walked off towards where he had been looking earlier, and Muras stood and followed. Forzen opened his mouth to say something, but they were gone before he could.

Forzen sighed. He could get up and go with Muras and Aerus, but someone needed to be at the table in case the food came. So he stayed and sat there, still waiting for his lunch.

It wasn't long before a voice sounded from behind him. "Hey, purple!"

Forzen turned around and saw the same teenagers from earlier walking up behind him. There were five of them: an earth dragon, two fire dragons, and two electric dragons. The earth dragon was the biggest, and most likely the leader of the group by the way he stood tall and confident, and the other four stood behind him like a supportive posse.

"Me?" Forzen asked, pointing to himself with a claw.

"Yeah, you." the earth dragon snapped, stepping towards Forzen. "What the hell do you think you're doing here, moras'tov?"

The posse chuckled at the word. Forzen obviously had no idea what it meant by the confused face he made, but he had a feeling it was an insult towards him. "I… I'm just here for lunch," Forzen replied, trying to shrug off the insult.

"Uh-huh. Why are you in Warfang?"

"To… to get away from war and violence. And also because my mentor lives here."

"Mentor? You don't mean the other moras'tov you were with earlier?"

"I… I don't know. I don't know what a moras'tov is."

"Why don't you ask your 'mentor' then?" the earth dragon asked, receiving a few more chuckles from his gang. "Now, moras'tov, answer me, and answer me truthfully. I saw you leaving our school just mere moments ago. What were you doing in there?"

"I… I was—"

"The truth, moras'tov."

"Can you stop calling me that?!"

"I don't think so, now answer the question! What were you doing at our school?!"

"Well… I was having a little… tour there. Muras wants me to go to school so I can make some friends and learn more from other people. He says he can't teach me everything, so he thought it was a good idea for me to get educated."

"A tour, huh? I did notice General Cynder and Master Torialis were with you two moras'tovs, and I guess if you were having a tour in there, that means you're going to be going to our school when it starts on Glaenday, hmm?"

"Uh… yes?"

Quick as a flash, the earth dragon's claw was across his face, leaving a small bloody gash across his snout. Forzen reeled backwards, clutching his snout and groaning in pain. Why had the earth dragon clawed him like that? What did he do? What did he do wrong?

The earth dragon just laughed at his pitiful reaction and leaned forward so they were face-to-face. His gaze was terrifying and his breath stunk. "Listen closely, moras'tov. Those schoolgrounds are ours, got it? You take one step out of line and we will beat some sense into you."

Forzen shuddered and had to suppress his whimper. Those words only made him think of the times Spyro had beaten him, the times D'varin had beaten him… the times all the other kids at Dark Peak had beaten him. Forzen was beyond terrified, and he felt trapped. He began to shake. He wanted to get out of this place.

One of the fire dragons in the posse spoke up. "But Fjor'gand, he's a purple dragon. He could be dangerous just like Spyro or Malefor. If we beat him… he could kill us."

The earth dragon, Fjor'gand, turned with a snicker. "Well, if he tries to kill us, we'll just have to kill him first," he chuckled.

"Won't that be… dangerous?"

"Look at him. He won't have it in him to even try and fight us. He's about to soil himself right now. Imagine what happens when we really beat him to a pulp."

With that, the posse seemed convinced, as they smiled hideously at this suggestion. Everyone in the restaurant seemed oblivious to what was going on. Forzen tried to look around for Muras, noticing him in the far corner of the restaurant, with his back turned to the table.

Forzen wanted to call out to Muras, but he knew he'd just get clawed at again. He just had to sit and take the verbal punches.

"Oh, are you scared, moras'tov?" Fjor'gand mocked, chuckling lowly. "Don't worry, we won't kill you unless it's absolutely necessary. It's as simple as this: don't attack us, and don't step out of line."

He then gave a slow, threatening laugh, before turning to leave. Forzen watched as the rest of the posse was about to turn around as well, each of them preparing to move.

Fjor'gand threw everyone off guard as he suddenly whirled back around with frightening speed, wrapping a paw around Forzen's throat and slamming the back of the purple dragon's head against the table.

"But that doesn't mean we can't still give you a good beating every now and then," Fjor'gand growled.

The earth dragon rose a fist and slugged Forzen in the face three times, before turning and finally leaving, chuckling hideously with his friends. They left the restaurant, and nothing inside the restaurant seemed different. Nobody had even noticed the sudden violent act, nor did they hear the remarks of Fjor'gand.

Or maybe… they didn't care that a purple dragon was getting beaten.

Forzen sat himself back up properly, rubbing his sore snout with one paw and clutching his throbbing eye with his other. He started to think he didn't want to go to school. If Fjor'gand and those bullies went to the school he was going to go to, he didn't want to go.

The young purple dragon jumped with fright as he heard pawsteps, and quickly turned towards the sound to see Muras and Aerus returning to the table, deep in conversation. Forzen couldn't help but feel angry at them for leaving him alone, leaving him open, so the bullies could pounce on him when he was alone. His glare was icy and strong, and Muras, who was talking to Aerus, quickly broke off into silence at the sight of Forzen's stare. Muras then reeled back with a gasp. "What happened, Forzen?! Your left eye is red!" he exclaimed.

Forzen groaned. So he had some external damage in his eye. Probably a result of Fjor'gand hitting him in the face.

But that didn't matter.

Muras had left him alone.

Muras had left him vulnerable.

Muras had left him.

This was all Muras' fault, and he couldn't keep his voice down when he started speaking.

"You left me! You left me here alone! Vulnerable! This group of teenagers spotted us leaving the school, the same school they go to, and followed us here, waiting until I was alone before they pounced on me!" Forzen shouted, not caring about Muras' shocked expression. "They called me names and attacked me! Threatened me! Saying that if I ever stepped out of line at school they'd give me a beating! That they'd kill me!"

"I… I'm shocked." Muras muttered. "I didn't think you'd become a target that quickly."

"But I did! What do you think would happen when you have the reputation and the links that I have? When you come from where I came from? When you got up and left, I tried to stop you, but you wouldn't listen! When you tried to get me out of the house today, I tried to get you to change your mind, but you wouldn't listen! You're trying to get me into the open too quickly! I know you've been struggling, and now with me, your 'purpose', as you call me, being around, you may be ready to get back into Warfangian society, but I'M NOT!"

"Forzen, I—"

"DO YOU EVEN CARE?!"

Muras reeled back at the scream, staring at Forzen with… what looked like fear. Aerus didn't speak either, and he seemed fearful as well. But there was something else in those grey eyes. Was it… compassion? At least Aerus was willing to care for him. His eyes showed it. All that was evident in Muras' eyes were fear. Fear of him.

Muras didn't care about him.

Muras was scared of him.

Was everything Muras told him a lie? That Muras wanted to be his mentor? That he cared? That Forzen was Muras' 'purpose'?

Was the only reason Muras brought him in… to keep him under control? To guard him? To watch his every move? Secretly treat him like a criminal?

Sure, Muras looked shocked at the revelation that Forzen had been beaten by bullies, and he had been so persistent on stopping the violent acts towards him. But was it because he thought that those actions brought upon Forzen would turn the young purple into a dark creature like Spyro?

Forzen couldn't trust Muras anymore.

It had only been three days since he'd met him, and Forzen had already lost his trust in his 'mentor'.

It broke Forzen. He had actually thought that maybe, just maybe, Muras was worth trusting. That maybe he understood. Either he really didn't understand or he was just dumb.

This is what he got for placing his trust in someone he only just met three days ago.

With a growl, Forzen stood up and left the restaurant. He didn't bother looking back, but he could feel Muras' gaze on him. He could feel… everyone's gaze on him.

Once he was out of the building, he broke into a sprint, not caring where he was going. He ran down a narrow street, almost knocking dragons' paws out from underneath them due to his carelessness. Frightened, panicked screams tore through the streets who saw the runaway purple dragon, fearing for their life as they thought he was on a violent rampage, looking for another unfortunate soul to add to his genocide. The screams made him choke back tears as his heart ached for someone to love him. His heart ached for Jaarsol.

Suddenly, he fell to the ground after colliding with something, landing on top of it in the fall. The sound of screaming and the feel of heavy kicking registered in his mind, and when he looked down, he saw he was on top of an ice dragon, looking to be about two years old. He quickly scrambled up to his paws, but slipped and fell again, cutting her across the right eye as his tailblade flailed about. He screamed as he watched the blood slowly dribble down her eyelid, scrambling back to his paws and immediately creating distance between himself and the youngling.

Forzen turned and broke into a sprint, his heart racing with adrenaline, but was suddenly hit on the tail with a freezing beam of ice. It almost felt like his tail was about to be ripped off as he came to an instant halt, his tail being frozen to the ground. He gulped. A hatchling didn't have that much control over their element.

That must mean…

The young purple dragon looked behind him and let out a shrill scream when he saw an enraged ice dragon rushing towards him, icy mist bellowing from his nostrils. This was the hatchling's protective father, there was no doubt about that.

Forzen tugged on his tail, attempting to use brute force to break it free from the ice sticking it to the ground, but it did no good except strain his tail. He then tried breathing a beam of electricity at the ice to break it, but a heavy blow to the face by the ice dragon did that for him, knocking him backwards at incredible speeds, breaking him free from the ice. He landed into the wall of another building with a heavy crack, and the air rushed out of Forzen's lungs.

He fell to the ground and groaned, trying to lift himself back to his shaky paws. He hardly made it up as he was struck down again. And again. And again. Forzen pleaded with a croaky voice for the dragon to stop, but he did not relent. He could taste his own blood on his tongue. The ice dragon suddenly swung his large, icy tailblade around, delivering a heavy slice to Forzen's gut. Blood spurted from the wound and a pained scream tore from Forzen's throat.

"How dare you attack my daughter like that, you demon?! How did you even find your way into Warfang without being seen?!" the angry father snarled. "Just because you've taken the illusionary form of a child doesn't mean we can't tell who you are!"

"I'm not Spyro, I swear!" Forzen pleaded, spitting up blood as he spoke.

His attacker drew his tailblade across his chest, spilling more blood and forcing another scream from Forzen's throat.

"Then you're a spy! A mercenary!"

"I'm not, I s-swear! I-I-I'm telling the truth!"

The ice dragon swore as he continued hitting Forzen. He was sure he was going to die. He looked around, and saw in the distance the little girl he had run into, clinging onto another ice dragon, slightly younger than he was—most likely her brother.

A loud crack snapped Forzen from his thoughts, pain flaring through his left wing as the ice dragon rose his fist from above his now broken wing. The ice dragon had walloped his wing so hard that it snapped against his back. Another fist hit him, tearing another cry from him. It was much weaker now, his voice hoarse and croaky.

Forzen needed to get out of here before he was killed. This dragon was going to kill him over an accident! He had left Dark Peak to get away from the violence, not ask for more!

He had been out in public before when making trips to the training arena, the Warfang Temple, or Muras' home. Why hadn't people attacked him before? Was it because Muras was with him? Was him being alone the reason why people finally found the courage to attack him?

A burning sensation flared across his right eye as the ice dragon raked his claws down his face. He squeezed his eye shut, trying not to let the welling blood spill into his eye. Forzen knew he needed to get out of here. No more staying around and lingering on unimportant thoughts.

Escape was the only important thing on his mind.

Survival… life… was what mattered.

But he didn't want to fight. He didn't want to cause violence or be a part of it. He didn't want to make himself look bad by resorting to violence.

So how was he going to escape?

Electricity was a no-go, and he didn't think there was anything useful he could do with wind. The only element left was sound, but after how his first set of training went, there was no way he would let out a sound-infused roar at his assailant. That would kill him. So, he had to rely on the very thing that he had gotten in trouble with Cynder for doing.

He had to create a sound illusion.

Forzen had no clue what the ice dragon beating him had heard, still being unable to fully control what he was doing, but the ice dragon whirled around with a frightened roar, tailblade poised and ready to strike. Realising his chance, Forzen scrambled to his paws and ran for his life. Ancestors damn it, everything hurts! he thought, blood streaming from his face, chest and stomach, splattering on the cobblestone ground.

Before long, he realised he'd made an even worse mistake as he ran straight into the markets of Warfang, one of the busiest parts of the city. He quickly realised that he had an even worse image than before, as blood covered his body. The blood streaming from his chest and stomach wounds had dripped down onto his paws, making him look a lot less innocent than he once looked, although he knew 'innocent' was not a word that Warfang associated with someone like him: a purple dragon… Spyro's descendant.

He didn't have much time to try and hide himself or turn back, before two large dragons ran towards him, both bearing the fire element. Forzen let out a cry of fear, trying to speed up, but failing miserably as he stumbled over the tail of an elderly ice dragoness. He could hear the complaints in the distance, but couldn't make out the words, especially with the two fire dragons hot on his tail.

The world around him started to get incredibly hot, before his ears suddenly acknowledged the savage roar of flames behind him. He tried to increase his pace once more, but failed again as he slammed into a stone pole, too focused on looking behind him at the inferno rushing towards him. The fire engulfed him, and he let out a croaky cry of pain as he felt his scales and flesh peel away. The sound of hissing, burning flesh reached his ears; it was a disgusting sound.

Eventually, the fire ceased, and Forzen gave a sigh of relief. That didn't last long however, as he felt a heavy paw press down on his burned, sliced open chest, searing pain exploding throughout his body. Forzen looked up into the wild crimson eyes of one of the fire dragons pursuing him, smoke bellowing from his nostrils.

"Look here, Purple!" the fire dragon spat. "You have no right to be in this city! You may not look like Spyro, but all purple dragons are the same! Deceitful, demonic creatures, deserving nothing but death! I'm surprised the purple dragon Cynder brought back is still alive, after everything he did!"

Forzen began to curl up in fear, not even realising what the fire dragon meant in his last sentence. This moment was all too familiar to him. Turn his surroundings into a cave, and turn the scales of the red dragon on top of him into a dark indigo, then it'd be an exact repeat of a past scenario that still haunted him.

"Get off me! Get off me, please!" Forzen pleaded, feeling the tears starting to break free once more. "I don't want to cause any trouble, I just want to get out of here!"

The fire dragon didn't pay heed to Forzen's pleas as he brought his claw down on him. Pain flared through the left side of his face, leaving behind a matching bloody claw wound on his face that mirrored the right side. The damage and swelling given to his left eye by Fjor'gand intensified this pain too.

Forzen's agonising screams filled the air, and by the look on the fire dragon's face, it was music to his ears. Music, to hear a creature as evil and dangerous as a purple dragon screaming in pure agony.

Forzen felt the fire dragon's claws again, this time down his flank, before the claws flashed across his chest, digging into the cut that was already there from mere moments earlier with the angry ice dragon.

The other fire dragon was just standing there and laughing, hurling insults at him, before he decided to join the torture as well, punching him in the face several times. The heavy blows he received were so hard that his head was knocked backwards every time, slamming with incredible force back into the stone pole that he was lying on his back against. Forzen was surprised he hadn't been knocked out yet, but he absolutely had a very heavy concussion.

His head ached, and he suddenly began to feel sick. The dragons could see it, as one of them punched him stomach, hard. Forzen lost all control of his body as he was forced to puke. His torturers stepped back as to not get any of it on themselves, and proceeded to stand there laughing as Forzen threw up on himself. His bloody wounds stung as vomit splashed over them.

Suddenly, he felt jaws clamp down on his broken wing, and he was lifted into the air and thrown to the side, landing with a crash inside a blacksmith stall. He screamed as his tail landed in an open fire, but he was physically too weak to pull it out, his head still throbbing from the amount of punches it had taken. He pleaded to the blacksmith, another fire dragon, to help him out, but the blacksmith just stood there, frozen in shock and fear at what had happened. As a matter of fact, all business in the street market had halted after the sight of the purple dragon running into the markets with blood dripping from his body.

The two attackers barged into the blacksmith stall, sending a wooden rack with cooling metal appliances flying everywhere. The flat of a sword that was still red-hot landed on his flank, touching his long cut, feeling his raw flesh sizzling. A shriek of pain left his throat, and he finally found the energy to thrash about, throwing the sword off his body and removing his burned tail out of the fire, but he suddenly felt a heavy paw slam down on top of his back, pinning him down to the ground as he lay on his stomach. The two fire dragons were on top of him once more.

Forzen needed to get out. He needed to do something, or else he was going to die.

Using his electricity as a last resort, he expelled a strong pulse of lightning from his body, sending his two attackers and the blacksmith standing a few metres away flying backwards, groaning in pain as electricity coursed through their bodies.

Forzen felt like he had no strength to get to his paws, but he knew he needed to. He needed to get out of Warfang, somehow. He struggled to his paws and began to limp slowly out of the decimated blacksmith stall.

Upon seeing him stumble out, an earth dragoness opposite the stall spat an earth missile at him, which slammed straight into his head. It shattered on impact, and spots filled Forzen's vision as he fell to the ground once more. Everything hurt like hell.

That last hit was the last thing that he could take. He welcomed death now. He wished for it to come quickly. He lay there, waiting for the next punch, claw, slash, bite, whatever. He wanted to die so he didn't have to deal with this pain anymore. Straight to the ancestors he would go, and all would be find. No more pain. No more suffering.

No more Warfang.

No more Cynder.

No more Muras.

No more Spyro.

He suddenly felt a set of jaws clamp down around his nape, as gently as they could. Forzen could only moan in pain as a response. He felt the breath of the unknown dragon whooshing onto the back of his head from his nostrils.

He tried to look around but everything hurt too much to do so. He could only watch as the ground fell away from him as he was lifted into the air. The world swirled around him, and his vision began to fade.

He was blacking out.

But he wasn't dying.

He was going to have to live with the fact that this had happened, and no one in Warfang would see him the way he wanted to be seen: innocent, calm, friendly, and shy. He knew how fast word spread in Warfang, and he knew that by tonight, everyone would be well aware of this incident.

What a great first impression…

Dragon of Mystery: Yup, Forzen picks up on these things pretty quickly, and develops his understanding of his elements fast as well, so we'll definitely see him doing a lot more varying things with his elements later on (when he's not getting beat up by other people of course lol). And yeah, emotionally, Forzen is... quite broken. All the events of his childhood hasn't helped much either, as well as him never experiencing the normal emotions that a child would growing up.

...

Hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter, and hopefully I can get another one out soon! Been on a role with writing, I'm almost finished Chapter 9. Very excited to get that one out particularly lol, I'm having fun with that chapter.

Feel free to leave a review! It really helps to hear what you guys think and to see everyone's thoughts and theories. Each review really is appreciated!

Anyway, have a great rest of your day/night, and I'll see you in another chapter soon!