Legend of Spyro: Four Pillars of Aether, Book II

by Blazcowitz43

Three years later, Warfang has fallen and tyranny reigns. Guilt-ridden and long thought dead, Spyro has left his home and prophecy behind for a new life of peace with the dragonflies in the distant swamps. But the war rages on for Cynder, Flame and Ember, who among others fight back against Gaul's rule as Malefor's return draws nearer. Will the Four Who Lived become one again?

13. Chapter 13: Down to One

Chapter 13:

Down to One

"Flame! Flame! Open your eyes! Get up!"

The last thing he had heard before he blacked out was his name being called out in a voice unlike any he had heard Ember use before. As his senses began to come back, his name was now the first thing he was hearing and Ember was the first thing he saw seeing. His vision was hazy, as was his mind as the residual pain of being struck in the head throbbed like a giant leech was gorging itself on the left side of his skull. But Flame knew Ember's face even when it was a blur, he hadn't needed to hear her speaking to know it was her. His eyes opened fully and his vision cleared, seeing Ember crouching in front of him with her big aqua blue eyes strained with worry while he was lying flat on his stomach. His heart thumped against his chest as his head sprang up with a sudden gasp.

"Ember?" he asked quickly, grimacing at the invisible giant leech on his head, "What happened? Where are we?" he asked as it dawned on him they were not somewhere he recognized.

"You don't remember?" she asked with a hint of concern mixed with mild frustration.

"No, its all a blur," he answered as he put pressure on his feet to try lift himself as his eyes darted around the strange environment. Flame was laying on a dirty, red timber floor and the air was filled with the dank, foul-smelling odor of accumulated filth. As he turned his head, he saw four walls of the same red timber surrounding him and Ember with patches of straw scattered about the rectangular room. It was surprisingly large considering they were the only occupants, but the heavy, three-pronged steel gate off to his left side presented no doubt that where they were was a prison cell.

The realization shocked him worse than the blow that had knocked him out, and nearly did so again. The moment before he was struck and the hulking silhouette that had delivered the blow was little more than a vague recollection, a blurry indistinct shape in his mind that kept coming in and out. He couldn't recall what had happened right before that, other than some kind of battle against the Apes and wandering through the frozen halls of some castle they had come to find. He remembered some kind of walking black and orange armor that seemed to want to fight them, but what he could recall seemed to play in his mind out of order and in a slovenly haze as if retold by a drunkard. Flame tried instead to think about the then and now.

The corners of the room were dark with the only light coming from a lantern hanging from the wall across from the cell door, through which he glimpsed a hallway covered by a path of worn red carpet. A sudden stab of pain ripped like lightning through his head that caused him flop down quickly on his haunches.

"Oh, my head!" he groaned as he grabbed both sides of it with his paws and looked at the floor.

"Flame!" Ember exclaimed as she moved up to him and balanced on her back feet, lifting her paws up to his head as she tried to calm him, "Are you okay? Just try to breathe," she told him. Her touch sent a strange vibration through his body as Flame lifted his head until his eyes were level with hers, sucking in air through gritted teeth as he fought the pain in his head.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in return as he settled a little, the pink dragoness biting her lip.

"Not much better than you," she replied before giving him the faintest glimpse of a forlorn smile. The red dragon took a soothing breath as he gave a faint smile in return, which she seemed glad to receive. He blinked heavily as his head continued to throb and seemed weighed down on his left side as he tried to straighten his mind out.

"How long have I been out?" he asked grimacingly.

"About a day," she replied as she pulled him a tad closer to examine his head as she had many times in the hours he had been laying there, hoping that there was nothing more wrong with him than she had been able to tell.

"A day? Wow…" Flame mused as he allowed Ember to hold him as she liked. He seemed to lean into her paws somewhat, letting her coddle him as her touch made the pain more bearable. As his eyes rolled aimlessly about, they finally settled on something that he did remember, something that caused his look of sleepy confusion to vanish in a flash as his eyes bulged out in alarm. Ember's necklace, her golden heart shaped necklace with the red ruby at its center, the one he had bought her, was gone!

"Hey, what happened to your necklace?" he asked with perilous alarm. Ember's aqua eyes blinked heavily as he felt her paws tense up by his head, her face burdened with heartache.

"They took it," she replied painfully, letting her paws slip down as she returned to all fours, "Stole it from me!"

"Who stole it? The Apes?"

"No, the people whose ship we're on," she answered tersely.

"Ship…?" Flame blurted out in confusion, just as the word triggered a memory that filled his mind and his mouth, "…You mean the Fearnaught?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" she asked with heightening concern, "Oh no, this might be worse than I thought!"

"It's okay," he assured her quickly, even though he was unsure himself, "I'm okay, just a little dizzy. Just tell me what happened…"

Before he or Ember could speak again, the sound of footsteps outside the cell caught their ears just as a shadow was cast by the lantern over them both as a bipedal figure appeared on the other side of the bars.

"Oi! Keep it down in 'ere!" rasped a cockney voice as a pair of crazed, beady black eyes glared at them through the gate. Flame and Ember stared back at the black and white, canine like face as a long pink tongue dangled out from its mouth as though it were too small to contain its length. The dog-like biped was sized similarly to a typical Ape Lieutenant, dressed in red and white striped tunic and trousers, with the right sleeve of its tunic completely torn off to reveal an arm covered in brown fur. In the hand of the same arm, he clutched a gold and red handled cutlass which he waved menacingly on the other side of the door as he turned his head back and forth between the two young dragons.

Around his forehead was a bandanna of the same red and white stripes, a gold earring hanging from his left ear while a leather harness crossed over his chest, bracing down a pair of armored shoulder pads. He wore a belt of purple cloth around his waist which was tied around his front in a kind of loincloth down his lower half while a scabbard with an extra sword could be seen behind his back. He stepped forward and placed his left hand on the gate as he focused his attention on the red Fire dragon.

"Ah, I see the red flyboy 'as finally stirred from 'is beddy-bye's," he sneered, "S'pose I should tell the Cap'an."

With a menacing chuckle, the stripe wearing dogface turned to his left and wandered from view, tapping his cutlass on the bars of the door as he left. Flame and Ember remained watching the space he had occupied for several moments after he was gone. Suddenly, Flame sprang up and moved across to the door, pushing his face against the bars as he turned his eyes down the way they had seen the scoundrel walk off. He could not see far out of the cell, looking up and down the hall as much as he could, glimpsing the edges of other doorways with similar gate like door to theirs. He heard a cough from somewhere down the hall and an indistinct grumble from another. They were not alone, wherever they were. Flame slowly turned back around to Ember as she sat where he had left her, squinting at her in confusion.

"That was…?" he began in a quieter tone.

"One of them, the Skavengers," Ember answered equally with obvious distaste, "You remember the stories about them, don't you?"

Indeed he did, as long ago as it was. Told to them by the Guardians, other Elder Dragons and even the Cheetah's, the Skavengers had been a band of mercenary pirates that had been a repeated nuisance throughout the realms in the past, but in their lifetime had not been seen since the previous war with the Apes. The stories that had been told of them often involved dramatic and fearful descriptions of these canine criminals who looted, pillaged and plundered anyone who crossed their path. Nowhere was safe as they sailed across the skies in a fleet of flying pirates ships with red and white sails, often taking hostages, be it Dragon, Mole, Cheetah, Atlawa, even Apes and holding them for ransom.

Survivors of these kidnappings had even told stories of being forced to fight other captives or wild animals for the amusement of their captors. There were stories of daring rescues carried out with the captives most often safely returned to their families, but at times ransoms had been paid and whether the Apes had cared enough about their own to either rescue or pay for their return was anyone's guess. With the end of the last war, the Skavengers had seemingly been driven away for good. Or so they thought.

"Yeah," Flame replied slowly, "But I thought they got driven away years ago! What are they doing back here?"

Ember sighed as she stood up and paced across the other side of the room, "I guess they came back when they realized there was no one to stop them anymore."

"You think they are working with the Apes this time?" Flame asked uneasily. Ember only shrugged unknowingly. The realization that they were prisoners had been disturbing enough, but now to realize they were prisoners of a crazed band of pirates seemed just as bad if they had been captured by the Apes. A sinking feeling of horror formed in Flame's stomach as it occurred to him they were most likely the most recent of a long line of prisoners who had occupied the same squalid cell they were in now. The question then was what had become of the others? What was going to become of him and Ember? His rising fear allowed more pieces of his memory to come back and recall that he and Ember had not gone on their venture alone.

"What happened to the others? Volteer and Hunter? Cynder? The Frostflyers?" he asked frantically, struggling to keep his voice down as Ember motioned him with her paw to keep quiet.

"I don't know. I haven't seen any of them here. Maybe they got away," she said with halfhearted hope. The fear and sadness in her eyes disturbed Flame in a way he wished he knew how to tell her, but that feeling was replaced by another as an uncomfortably black thought came to him that was too horrific to contemplate, if it turned out to be true. One that he could not answer for sure with his scattered memory, but which he knew Ember could.

"Ember," he began gravely, hesitantly, walking over to her in the dark "How did they catch us? I'm not sure I remember right. Please tell me."

The pink dragoness met him halfway as she cautiously looked over his shoulder and he looked behind as they saw another Skavenger wander past the door. They waited until they were sure he was well away before she spoke quietly.

"We were headed back to the gondola when you raced ahead of us. I tried to keep up after you flew through a cloudbank, then I saw you go straight through the sail of this giant ship like you didn't even see it!"

Flame gulped. It was turning out the way he feared, "Yeah, I remember that now…"

"You fell onto the deck and the Skavengers knocked you out! I tried to rescue you, but there was too many of them. I used up all my Ice breath trying to fend them off, but one of the bigger ones hit me and then the rest tied me up. I thought we were both done for," she said glumly.

Flame's heart beat painfully as he felt the blood drain from his face. She had come after him! He was the reason she had been caught! It was all his fault, just as he feared. But then he remembered the two Frostflyer's who were supposed to have escorted them back to Hunter. Was he responsible for them too?

"What about the two Frostflyer's who were gonna take us back to Hunter? What happened to them?" he asked fearfully.

Ember shook her head, "They tried, but they didn't get close. I saw these things that looked like giant red birds come out of the clouds and attack them. I don't know what they were, but they must belong to the Skavengers, I guess. I didn't see anyone of our side after that, then they took us down here," she finished as she looked about the room they were now confined. Flame didn't move, the weight of everything he was told hitting him worse than the blow that had knocked him out.

It was all his fault! His foolhardiness and petty grievances had made him act rashly and this was the result. He had likely cost the lives of two brave Ice dragons and got himself and Ember captured. All because he had lost his temper for her not noticing or returning his childish affections.

"Flame? Are you okay?" she asked with concern of his almost catatonic silence.

"It's my fault!" he cried, a guilty lump in his throat choking his voice, "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have gone ahead like that! I'm the reason you got caught, Ember. I'm the reason you're here!"

"Calm down!" she hissed, grabbing his shoulders with her front paws before he could let himself completely go, "It's no good blaming yourself!"

"But it is my fault!" he insisted desperately, abandoning any effort to remain quiet, "It's my fault you're here, Ember. I've put you in danger!"

"We've both put ourselves in danger!" she told him heartfully, "I couldn't just fly on and leave you there. What would you have done?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you have just left me there if it had been me?"

Flame's sadness contorted almost at once into a disbelieving rage, "What? No way!" he recoiled sternly, "What makes you think I'd do that?!"

"What makes you think I wouldn't? Who says only you get to be the hero?" Ember asked him back in a perturbed tone as she continued to hold him by the shoulders. The red dragon looked flustered, her answer leaving him seemingly dumbfounded.

"But I'm supposed to look out for you," he explained sincerely, "It's what you're supposed to do for a dragoness."

"We're supposed to look out for each other, Flame," Ember said flatly, unsure if she should be flattered or annoyed by his apparent savior complex. The longer she looked at the absolute seriousness in his eyes though, Ember could not escape the child like feeling of being fawned over. She felt a spark of warmth in her heart as her eyes softened in the poor light, but then almost immediately felt the cold hand of what she assumed was logic snuffing it out. There was no time for it.

"Enough of the hero stuff," she told him firmly, "We've got to figure out what we're going to do now.

"Hero stuff?" Flame retorted sorely, "Is that why you think I…"

CLACK-CLINK! CLACK CLINK!

Flame lost his voice as he and Ember turned their heads to the door and the sudden noise ringing down the hall towards them. The sound was accompanied by a heavy thud on the wooden floor that grew louder the closer it got. The pair looked at each other and then back to the door as the CLACK CLINK! CLAK CLINK! was accompanied by an imposing shadow that loomed across the red rug, forming the appearance of a pair of hulking shoulders and a broad tricorne cap. From the shadow and the other pirate's earlier remarks, Flame realized he was about to meet the silhouette he had briefly seen and who had been responsible for greeting him with a quite literal knockout blow; the Captain of the Skavengers.

The lantern on the wall was entirely blocked as a tower of a beast made its last CLINK! on the floor from the gold prosthetic stump of the right foot which made the sound. Filling the space on the other side of the door was another of the Skavengers, but larger and more menacing than the ones they had seen earlier. It was clad in a scarlet coat that was missing its left sleeve, revealing a white and burgundy striped undershirt and pant leg, the left forearm clasped in a gold lined brace that matched the burgundy of its striped shirt. The eyes of the canine were even more crazed, a mask of black fur surrounding the sockets and tapering to the bridge of its nose whilst two tendrils of black hair curled up like the ends of a mustache from the sides of its head. A scar was slashed across the left eye with a gold ring piercing its brow as it stared at them with an unsettlingly blank expression as if the two dragons were not even there.

On its head was the typical tricorne Captain's hat with a large red feather adorning it. Three spike like appendages of hair apparently grew through the cap like a set of horns, each clasped in a gold ring. Its jaw was square and wore a triple tailed goatee, the center one of which was black and white like the tail of a skunk. But all three was shorter than the long, snake like tongue that dangled from the open mouth, swaying every time the dog faced brute moved its head. Its right hand swung around in front as a golden hook in place of the right hand came into view, which it used to scratch its chin, though judging by appearances it seemed unlikely there were any thoughts brewing in the Skavenger's head. Behind its back could be seen the handle of a large cutlass and a tail that looked more fitting on a monkey.

Atop its shoulders were bulky armor plates trimmed in gold and burgundy and to solidify the stereotypical pirate image, two unusual birds sat atop the left shoulder and the center of its back where a small chest was apparently fixed. The bird on the shoulder was orange and white with wings that looked more like those of a bat with a patch on its left eye, small yellow beak, and a scar from under its left wing down across its white feathered chest. A plume of yellow feathers rose like a crown from its head while a ringed tail like that of a lizard tossed behind it over the shoulder of the Skaveneger Captain. The second bird was much the same, only a fandango purple and white with a patch on its right eye and scar across its body that curiously mirrored that of its orange companion. Flame quickly ignored them and went back to staring at the mindless expression of the dog faced pirate.

"Nice to see our guests so well rested," said an unexpectedly refined, even courteous voice seemingly better fitting to anyone else than a drooling, wild eyed pirate. There was an air of pomposity to it reminiscent of Cyril the Ice Guardian. Flame had to blink though, for to his eyes he could swear the pirate's mouth had not noticeably moved when he spoke.

"Who are you?" the red dragon snapped bravely, "You can't keep us here. We're members of the Legion of Liberation! Let us out!"

"Legion of Liberation?" scoffed a sudden, entirely different voice that squawked in an abrasive, brasher higher pitch, "More like the legion of fools if ya ask me!"

"What the…?" Flame asked in angry confusion. Not only had the pirate's voice changed, but its mouth had not moved this time either! Was he starting to lose his mind? He turned to Ember, who's bored expression suggested no alarm at the bizarre occurrence.

"Ember, what's going on…?" he asked pleadingly, just as the pink dragoness lifted her paw under his chin, grasping it in the fingers of her claws and tilting his head up, turning his eyes towards the two odd looking birds atop the Skavenger Captain. He looked between the pair of them curiously as a deviant snicker floated down to the two young dragons.

"Yes, they always have to take a second look, don't they?" said the smug, cunningly refined voice of earlier.

"Man, what a bunch of fools!" squawked the second, brashly arrogant voice again! Flame's eyes bulged as he realized to his shock and embarrassment that the two voice came not from the overbearing Skavenger Captain, but from the two parrots!

"Ember, the birds are talking," Flame said incredulously as she let go of her grip on his chin.

"I knew you had to see it or you wouldn't have believed me," she replied plainly. The orange parrot gave a mumbled laugh as he bobbed his head across his shoulders before raising his right wing across his scarred chest.

"I suppose introductions are in order," he said graciously, pompously, "I am your host, Scratch. And that scoundrel over there is my brother, Sniff," he said as he pointed across to the fandango parrot.

"Don't be tryin' to make a fool outta me, sucker!" Sniff warned them erratically, flailing his wings about in a spasm of pent-up aggression. More bemused than frightened, Flame and Ember remained silent as Scratch flexed his wings out before pointing his right wingtip down towards the head of the Skavenger Captain.

"And this lowly creature," he declared with arrogant contempt, "Is the erstwhile Captain of the Skavenger fleet and its mighty flagship, the Fellmuth! May I introduce to you, Captain Skabb!"

Skabb, as they now knew he was called, gave only a short, gruff grunt of acknowledgment as he nodded his hollow head in agreement, his tongue dangling mindlessly.

"He's a little slow, you understand," Scratch explained casually, "He doesn't speak or think a great deal, so we prefer to carry that burden for him, you see. He'd be quite helpless without us."

Flame and Ember glanced to one and other in seeming disbelief of the absurdity of their current situation. Held captive on a flying pirate ship commanded by a braindead Captain who was apparently manipulated like a puppet by a pair of talking, conniving Parrot-lizards! It was too fantastic to possibly be true.

"Ember, I need a favor," the red dragon said plainly.

"What favor?" she asked quickly.

"Hit me," he replied simply.

"What?"

"Hit me! I need to be sure I'm not still unconscious!"

"I don't want to hit you! You're not unconscious!" she assured him firmly.

"How do I know? This is crazy! How do I know this isn't all in my head?" he asked frantically.

"It's not, Flame! You're not dreaming!"

"Ember, please just hit me!" he begged in desperate sincerity, grabbing hold of her shoulders and rocking her as he stared intensely at her.

"Get a hold of yourself!" she cried as she grabbed him back the same way, "Just listen to me!"

"HIT ME!"

CLAP! The echo of the slap could be heard in every cell and corridor of the Fellmuth. The strike to the right side of his face was nearly enough to spin his head around and launch his eyeballs from their sockets as Flame remained paralyzed in shock, collapsing like a falling tree on his left side without so much as a grunt. Ember clapped her paws over her mouth as she gasped in horror at what she had done, her wings sinking behind her.

"Woo! That girl got some spunk!" exclaimed Sniff loudly.

"Yes," Scratch agreed mildly, "She certainly put up more of a struggle than her friend did. But no matter, they shall both have a chance to show their mettle soon enough."

Skabb grunted and nodded again in reply. Oblivious to this ominous remark, Ember was busy trying to keep herself together as she shook and prodded the red dragon for signs of life as he stared blank eyed towards the wall.

"Flame! Flame! Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I didn't want to, but you were losing it! Flame, speak to me!"

"I'm alive!" he groaned irritably, pushing himself up with his left foreleg as Ember tried to help him up, but he seemed less than thankful for it. She meekly pulled back from him as he rubbed the now stinging right side of his head which balanced out the leech burrowing into its' left side, "And I'm definitely awake!"

"Flame, I'm sorry…" Ember said despairingly.

"It's okay. It's what I asked for, right?" he replied grumpily, shaking his head dizzily.

"Enough chit-chat!" declared Sniff impatiently, "We got work for you two chumps!"

"Indeed," concurred Scratch smugly, "We have some menial duties for you to perform before you get your chance at glory in the arena."

Ember looked at the two Parrot-lizards with a deadly scowl, "What are you talking about?"

"Arena?" Flame suddenly blurted out as he unsteadily turned back to the assembled Skavengers.

"I thought I told you to be quiet, fools!" snapped the purple bird lizard.

"All in good time," the orange bird lizard remarked snidely, "But before we release you both for duty, we must take the appropriate precautions," he said with menacing delight, "We know how powerful and dangerous you dragons can be. Bring forth the snake chest!"

Flame and Ember's hearts dropped, "Snake chest?" they repeated in shared horror.

Skabb stepped back from the doorway as more footsteps approached the cell from the right side, a pair of smaller Skavenger pirates coming into view. They were around the same size as common Ape soldiers and like the other pirates they had seen, dressed in scarlet tunics with red and white striped sleeves, pant legs and wore red bandanas. Between them they carried a large gold encrusted chest with long golden handles front and back. The ornate chest was decorated with emerald green jewels that carried an unnatural shine to them on its side as they formed the shape, rather worryingly, of two snakes facing away back to back.

The two pirates placed it on the ground in front of Skabb, the lid of the chest outlined by a banner of emerald lining as the top of the chest was decorated with two glowing snake heads of green crystal. Tiles of solid gold and green crystal rested beneath the two snake heads, the crystals all over the chest glowing and fading with the regularity of a heartbeat, as if they were alive themselves. With a grunt from Skabb and wave of his hook, the two pirates put their hands on the chest and then slowly lifted the lid open, a blood chilling hiss coming from inside. Flame and Ember on reflex backed themselves against the wall of the cell as the two pirates each reached in and grasped what was inside. It was no surprise when the two Skavengers pulled their hands out, clasping in them two emerald green serpents, the same green of the exterior crystals, the unnatural state of the reptiles not lost on anyone.

"Where did you get those?" Flame demanded coldly, pushing himself ahead of Ember as the serpents hissed at them. They recognized them as the same mystical serpents used by the Apes to subjugate and disempower any dragons that fell into their hands. Once applied, the serpents transformed into enchanted collars that left any dragon unable to summon any elemental powers, even with the aid of Spirt Gems.

"From an Ape associate of ours," Scratch replied simply, "Gaul may view us as a nuisance, but there are those within his ranks willing to make private dealings with us and share some of their armies' toys and tricks… for a handful of coin, of course."

"It's not surprising, I suppose," Ember commented bitterly to Flame. There was a loud rattle and rumble as the teeth of the cell door began to rise into the door frame, several more Skavengers crowding around the outside with cutlasses and crossbows drawn as Skabb himself drew his large blade from its scabbard.

"Don't try anything, fools!" growled Sniff with a jab of his wingtip, "Or we'll cut you up for cat chow!"

The pirates clutching the snakes chuckled darkly as they stepped forward into the cell, moving together with the snakes held out as they approached the two cornered young dragons. Several more pirates stepped in with weapons at the ready, further discouraging any attempt to fight back as Skabb himself stayed at the rear and plugged the doorway. Flame remained stoutly ahead of Ember, scowling as the hiss of the glowing snakes made his stomach twist in fear. To his surprise, Ember suddenly shuffled to his left side, apparently brushing off his attempt at chivalry as she took an equal footing beside him. He looked to her initially in hurt, but the fearful gaze she shot back at him made him realize how wrong he was and told him everything; whatever awaited them, they would meet it together equally and do their best to protect and see each other through. It was almost heartwarming.

Flame and Ember's hearts stopped as the pirates reached forward with the evil serpents, grabbing them by the neck before letting the snakes slither from their hands and around the necks of the two dragons. Neither of them watched, holding their breath as the snakes slithered over their scales and coiled around their necks, glowing brightly as their captors stepped back. The feeling of their slippery, slithery bodies suddenly morphed into a feeling like metal as they opened their eyes and looked down at themselves and then each other. The two snakes, living and breathing a moment ago, had transformed into glowing metal collars with the head of snakes hanging over their chests with an ethereal tether of green magic connecting from the snake's mouth to the one opposite, linking the two collars and the two dragons together.

"A fitting replacement for the young lady's gold choker, don't you think?" said Scratch with a cruel chuckle. Flame and Ember looked up at each other, to the Skavengers, to the glowing snake collars that now bound them, and finally back to each other. They both reached the same obvious, frightening conclusion with one shared sentence between them.

"This can't be good…"

Tall Plains, a day later…

A sea of grey, covered by a layer of mist shifted and swept for seeming eternity below a dome of seemingly incongruous blue sky, failing to explain the color of the sea. Rising above the grayness like a pluming bush was an isolated, bell-shaped rocky islet covered in a thick head of deep green trees and foliage. It rose less than a hundred feet above the sea of grey, from its peak could be seen a handful of other islets far off in the distance and seemingly in every direction upon the misty sea. A few miles ahead of the bell-shaped rock could be seen the largest of the islets in visual range, reaching hundreds of feet above the others in the shape of a crocked pyramid, its peak bent over on one side. It too was adorned in a covering of green trees and brush like a head of hair with its sides showing exposed slopes of rock reaching down into the sea of grey.

From the peak of the crooked pyramid, invisible to anything but the sharpest of eyes and then through a looking glass, a tiny black speck clung to the far branches of the furthermost tree on the edge of the pyramid. Its eyes looked like two bright oranges bulging out from the front of its furry head as two pointed ears rose in a pair of triangles. The rodent was the size of a rabbit with a straight black tail and white fur underneath its body. Most curious, however, was the presence of six limbs; two rat like back legs and two pair of forelegs, one pair growing out from the middle of the critter. On each limb were tiny claws and connecting all the limbs together was a thin orange membrane or patagia like that of a bat and the same color of the bulging eyes.

The creature, unique to the region, was a Skiffter, its tiny nose sniffing the air as it contemplated the misty greyness below it. The critter it seemed was marooned on this towering islet and was left with little prospect, its characteristics not seeming appropriate for swimming. Despite this, the Skiffter clung with all its limbs onto the branch of the tree in a firm grip before it suddenly scurried along its length at a swift pace, bending its back as it hopped from and branch and jumped!

The Skiffter plunged, its limbs tucked under its body as it fell straight down into the mist above the sea and then vanished from view without a sound. The air rushed past its tiny body as it plunged into the grey sea, a sea of clouds, its fur picking up moisture as it fell through the blinding grey mass without any way of seeing what awaited below the cloudbank, if it ever found it. The creature's heart was pounding though its eyes showed no emotion, the danger that a sudden wind gust could send it spiraling off course was very real as the Skiffter remained free falling with its wings tucked under its belly, with no way to know when the cloudbank would end. Then just like that, a few moments later, it did.

The Skiffter flung its limbs out in an instant, the orange patagia fanning out like a kite as the downward plunge was bought to a steady glide, the critter turning its head as it surveyed the hidden world now revealed below the grey canopy it had just passed through. Stretching out below in every direction were hundreds and hundreds of islets and islands like the glider had just leapt from, every one hundreds of feet above ground while some, as seen earlier, continued to rise until they vanished into the clouds above. Clouds of fog drifted in between the countless islands that varied just as much in their size and shape.

Some were singular entities rising like giant stone pillars into the sky while others were self-contained islands as large as the city of Warfang with colossal mountain ranges that rivalled those of Avalar or the craggy peaks of Dante's Freezer. Huge swaths of rainforest covered these larger islands, some as large as many of the valleys of Avalar and just as rich in fertile soil. The Skiffter banked itself to the left, adjusting its flight path as the tiny speck swept by one of the giant, tree covered mounds of rock, gliding easily as its large orange eyes, like those of a fly, looked in every direction across the green and cloudy domain of Tall Plains.

Tall Plains was the most highly elevated realm of all, and at times it had been suggested that Tall Isles was a more fitting name and was occasionally was referred to as such. For the native people of the realm, the bipedal Llama folk called the Atlawa, Tall Plains was the name they preferred. The Atlawa lived all across the many towering islands and islets that made up their domain, priding themselves on their ability to raise crops and livestock even at such high altitudes. They were a simple, some might say primitive, society that did its best to coexist peacefully with their surroundings and the seasons. They were a fairly isolationist people by nature, no doubt influenced by the fact that their home was difficult to travel either to or from. Most Atlawa never ventured outside of Tall Plains and the number that did was limited owing to the relatively small amount of trade that took place between Tall Plains and the rest of the realms.

The Atlawa were mostly farmers and the tending of crops to them was as much a religious need as a survival need, favoring conservative farming methods to reduce their impact on the land rather than the mass cultivation practiced on the mainland. As a result, Atlawaen produce in peace time had always been a precious commodity and highly sought after for its high quality, yet was always in short supply due to the Atlawa's simplistic philosophy. The accumulation of wealth was not highly valued in their culture and as a result, they traded only what they felt they needed, despite the high demand for their produce. On the other hand, the Atlawa simply had little need or want for the commodities and luxuries that had been available to them via trade with the rest of the realms in peace time.

The Skiffter continued its journey, banking and weaving across and around the many towering islands and mountains of Tall Plains, misty clouds drifting between them like ghosts as the wind swept around in a wailing song. The mist cleared now and then to show the sheer drop to ground level more than a thousand feet below, a blanket of rainforest, rivers and cliffs stretching out from the base of the hundreds of rocky islands and mountains, the distant shoreline and sea were hazy on the horizon. The gliding critter swept towards an open meadow perched on a huge plateau flanked on two sides by high but narrow mountain peaks, forming a wall around one side of the plateau as it took on an irregular, almost boot like shape. Several small bamboo huts could be seen built around an eye-catching mass of golden maize or corn growing from the soil of the meadow, measuring at least a few acres.

Several figures covered in brown and white fur could be seen tending to the crops, several members of the Atlawa who resided on this plateau. The Llama like bipeds slashed and collected the maize, bringing it out onto an empty wagon as another filled to the brim was taken away, pulled by one Atlawa at the front and pushed from behind by another. It joined in behind another wagon and then another, the number of wagons and workers far outweighing the number of huts in the village.

Among the village and overseeing the work with cold indifference was a troop of Apes, a line of them on both sides of the caravan as it made its way out of the village, the Ape's Deathhounds snarling and barking at the Llamas as they forced themselves on, knowing it would take nothing for the hounds to be released upon them.

Amid shouts and curses and the cracking of whips, they followed a worn dirt path along the plateau that took the wagon train towards the far end of the cliff, where a pair of guard towers manned by Apes stood erected by a wide bamboo bridge. The bridge had a square archway made from three heavy stone blocks, two mounted upright and set into the ground with the third laying across the top to form the arch. A large pair of bamboo pegs sat in front of the stones with heavy vines tied to them and stretching over the blocks to strengthen the bridge that stretched some seventy feet across to the next plateau. Another pair of guard towers and stone archway could just be seen through the thin veil of mist that drifted across the bridge. The Skiffter passed overhead of this scene of oppression, only one of the Atlawaen workers gazing up and seeing the little black and orange rodent gliding by, envying its freedom.

This had been the story of Tall Plains ever since Warfang had fallen three years previously. Gaul's Army had then carried out its plan of conquest and occupation across the realms, with Tall Plains no exception. The Atlawa were a peaceful people, but they were not pacifists, their warriors having fought alongside the dragons and their allies in the last war against the Apes. However, they had always prioritized protecting their home realm above all else and had only ever sent limited numbers of warriors under the leadership of Kane, the Chief of the Atlawa, to fight outside Tall Plains. Other than that, there were those who volunteered to fight of their own will and had fought alongside the dragons and their allies, being folded into Dragon, Mole or even Cheetah troops.

No such organization had been possible this time, for Warfang had fallen before any Atlawa warriors had been able to arrive to help. Since then, the larger settlements and islands of Tall Plains had been occupied by the Apes and those unable to escape had been forced to work as slaves for them, working the fields and raising livestock now to feed the ravenous appetite of Gaul's Army. There were farmlands aplenty on the mainland, but even the Apes appreciated the near legendary produce of the Atlawa. Untouched by the oppression suffered by those below, the Skiffter continued its glide across the many peaks of Tall Plains, drifting into updrafts that gave it a boost of altitude, allowing it glide further without fear of falling short and having to seek another high peak to restart its journey. It moved along at great speed, leaving the occupied village far behind in a matter of moments.

Other bamboo bridges could be seen connecting one island and plateau to the next, but the sheer number of isles far outweighed the number of bridges and isolated villages that the Skiffter soared above. It banked left, sweeping between two tall islets before soaring through a thick cloud of mist, disappearing from view and seemingly the world. Somewhere else in the labyrinth of mountains, high plateaus, rainforest and open plains that made up the extraordinary high-altitude environment, there was another lonely creature that wished to the high heavens to disappear into the mist just as easily as the Skiffter.

Atop a high cliff face, a narrow stream washed down a twenty-foot-high rock wall before it streamed along a flat and wide grassy ledge a short distance before the water passed some loose boulders and made the terrific plunge down the side of the cliff face, fading into mist the further down it went. A dense fog built up some way down the cliff face, giving the illusion of the stream falling into oblivion. A thick canopy of rainforest trees covered the top of the rock wall, leaving the rough semicircle of grass open to the sky with the stream running almost perfectly down its middle to the edge. It was just one of many waterfalls seen throughout Tall Plains. There was nothing untoward about it, nothing important to draw attention to it. Only to Cynder was it important.

The black dragoness sat alone atop the rock wall with the stream to her right, heavily shaded by the thick tree cover and the overcast sky. The darkness did well to hide her even with her ruby red underside and wings, but even a blind mole could see the absolute black sorrow in her emerald eyes a mile away. Her head hung low and her wings were drooped across her back like sheets, her tail wrapped around her feet. The ground was wet from a rainstorm that has passed through earlier, the distant rumble in the air hinting it would return soon, but a hurricane could have been raging in that moment and Cynder would not have noticed or cared.

When she had finally awoken after collapsing from the exhaustion of overusing her Wind element, she had found herself laying on a mattress of straw in a dark corner with a candle lantern off to her side. The first faces she had seen had been that of Hunter and Volteer, realizing that they were aboard the Atlawaen gondola and deducing that they had escaped Dante's Freezer before they had even told her so.

"Where's Flame and Ember? Are they okay?" she had asked desperately, noticing they were not among the faces she had seen below the deck of the gondola. The desperately sorry gazes she had got back and the fact that even Volteer could not find a voice to tell her had been near explanation enough.

"I'm sorry, Cynder. They're not here," Hunter had told her heavily.

"What do you mean, 'Not here'?!" she had demanded hotly. He had gone on to explain the events that occurred while she was unconscious, the arrival of the Frostflyers, the battle against the Fearnaught, how her friends had taken off against his orders to aid the Frostflyers in their assault against the airborne leviathan. He recounted to her what the surviving Ice dragons had told him, how they had managed to defeat a near invulnerable Ape clad in energized armor, how their bravery and selflessness had helped to allow the gondola to escape the Fearnaught with Volteer unscathed. But they had not returned.

"Where are they?" Cynder had screeched in a fury as she, despite how weakened she was, tried to bolt for the stairs to the deck, "We have to go back for them! We have to find them!"

It had only been Hunter's Cheetah reflexes that had allowed him to pounce on and stop her that she didn't take off into the blue to try and find them herself, though it was unlikely she could have flown for long in her still exhausted state. Even so, she had resisted with all the strength she had even as the other member of the crew had tried to settle her.

"We can't go back!" Hunter had snapped as he was forced to wrestle her on the floor, "There was another ship, a Skavenger ship that arrived while you were out! We could not risk losing Volteer again!"

When she had finally settled, Hunter had released her from his grip and told her the rest of the story, recounted by the surviving Ice dragon named Fannar who had been part of a pair of Frostflyers assigned to escort Flame and Ember back to the gondola. He had seen the two race ahead through a cloudbank, where by the worst luck the Skavenger ship had been hidden behind and the two had become locked in combat against the pirate crew. During the skirmish, he had lost his wing mate in battle against a Skurvywing, a red bird like beast distantly similar to the Dreadwing, and been forced to withdraw. That was the last anyone had seen of Flame and Ember.

Upon digesting all this, Cynder had found herself unable to stand, falling sullenly onto her haunches on the floor of the gondola. Even as she recounted it now, she didn't know how long she had sat there for with Hunter and Volteer siting patiently in front of her, only that the other present crewmembers had all left by the time she finally spoke.

"They're gone?" she had asked Hunter and Volteer helplessly. The Electric Guardian and Cheetah warrior had been able to do little to console her with the yellow dragon stammering,

"We do not know for sure what has happened to them, my dear. There is a chance…. Well, a small chance… negligible really. Quite insignificant… Oh, I am sorry…"

"They may still be alive," Hunter added softly, but with an air of sorrowful doubt, "But if they are, I can only imagine that means they are prisoners of the Skavengers. If so, I don't know which fate is better…"

Cynder had said nothing, staring at them both with all the life of a frozen corpse. After another length of time she could not quantify, she had sulkily wandered to the corner where she had been when she awoke, curling into a ball on the mattress with her eyes turned to the dark corner and pretended to not exist. There she had remained, not touching any food or drink that had been bought to her, hoping the others too would pretend she no longer existed. However long it was later when she had finally allowed herself to be stirred from her dark corner, it had been one of the Mole crewmembers who informed her that they had finally arrived at Tall Plains, where they had planned to rendezvous with Terrador's expedition and hopefully Cyril the Ice Guardian, assuming they had been successful in their quest too.

Atop the rock wall overlooking the stream, the black dragoness sniffed a lungful of the high rainforest air as she fought back the urge to shed tears, breathing steadily as she sat in the shadow of the forest canopy. The gloomy weather it seemed was tied to her emotions, for it had become stormy not long after their arrival the previous night. The gondola had managed to navigate the maze of peaks and tall islands without being spotted by the Apes for there was no observed increase in their activity according to the Atlawa scouts who came to escort them to the hidden camp of Kane, now leading the guerrilla forces who resisted the occupation of Tall Plains.

Cynder had been barely attentive during the rendezvous, only paying enough attention to learn that Terrador's force had not yet returned from their task and no word had been received from since they left. The mysterious map that had led them to Volteer would now surely lead Terrador to Cyril, who supposedly was now held in the abandoned shrine that had once been the center of the Atlawa belief system. They could only hope the first time wasn't a fluke.

Cynder finally stood up from her patch of grass, taking a step closer to the edge of the rock wall as she watched the water running towards the cliff edge with worn eyes. She looked up at the opening in the forest, the small semicircle of open grass that covered the ledge and the view that awaited beyond it. Across the huge gap on other side was another rocky colossus of greyish white stone with a full head of green rainforest as large as the plateau of Castle Hill. A deep chasm cut it into two as it wriggled through the plateau, carving a clear path through the rock that on clearer days was marvel to behold.

Even without it, the beauty and peaceful serenity was so idyllic as the stream leisurely ran over the great drop, the misty clouds forming near readable shapes, with the help of a little imagination, in the open air between the two rock formations. Cynder could not help but feel compelled to move closer to it, despite the warnings of the Atlawa to stay under cover to avoid roaming Dreadwing patrols. But she had already broken one rule by being here alone, coming here without telling anyone, what did she care about breaking another?

She opened her wings and made the short glide towards the grass below, banking across the right side of the stream before landing, only taking a modest glance at the sky as she walked towards the edge of the waterfall. She stopped only as the tips of her claws reached the edge of the grass, the black dragoness staring at the misty sky and the partially hidden rock walls of the mountains beyond it. A gust of wind made her sway and seemingly threatened to push her the extra inch until she fell, but unblinking and unfeeling, she remained standing, looking across at the shifting mist that began to take a shape in her mind.

She saw a pair of horns, a pair of wings, a slightly ridged back and cone shaped tail as her imagination filled in the blanks and a tucked set of limbs appeared on the bottom of the cloud just before it compressed out of shape and broke the illusion in her mind. For those few moments though, she knew she had seen Spyro. Cynder blinked slowly as she turned her head to the left, looking down at the stream as it ran off the edge of the drop, before looking back over her shoulder to the rock wall she had been moments before. She traced her eyes back over the stream, which to her mind was now frozen solid just before the drop. Her eyes and mind lingered in that illusion before they looked back out at the view, Cynder closing her eyes as she thought back to why this place was special, why it was important to her.

Six years ago…

The sky was not overcast that day, but a dazzling clear blue as the air around the countless mountains and islands was unusually clear, allowing for an unparalleled view of the scale, size and beauty of Tall Plains. The water ran off the cliff just as it always had, thinning and disappearing down the enormous drop as the sun reflected off its silvery flow. Across from the waterfall where the chasm split the mighty mountain in two, four winged silhouettes came racing through the chasm, playfully swooping and diving amongst themselves and at each other, their laughter echoing through the air and off the cascading rock walls. Spyro, Cynder, Flame and Ember, all nine years old at the time, frolicked and twirled in the air, their lives untouched by any kind of danger or worry.

Following behind them came a great mass of flying muscle, the bulky form of Terrador maneuvering through the chasm with all the grace of a dove. The four young dragons, the Four Who Lived, paused in their play and hovered together in place as the great Earth Guardian swept towards them, ducking his head down as he dove under the foursome before shooting up the other side of them, looking back over his shoulder as they watched him in admiration.

Terrador did not look pleased though as he banked back around and dove down to them, just as the rest of the flight he had been leading began to funnel through the chasm. As he pulled himself into a hover before the four survivors, they were joined by a dozen or more other young dragons of all similar age, those whose eggs had been in Warfang and not the temple the night of the raid. They were all shades and variations of the elemental colors, with few of their names that Cynder could recall, save for one blue and white Ice dragoness that smirked with delight as she saw Terrador direct his unpleasant stare at the group of four that the black dragoness was rarely ever seen outside of.

Glacious chuckled vainly, even at such a young age her sense of superiority was as solid as the rock formations that surrounded them. She had always singled out Cynder for being the only Wind dragoness in their flight and indeed one of the few in all of Warfang. Some centuries before they were born, Wind had at one time been considered part of the Earth element, but after a great amount of scholarly debate, it has been partitioned into its own separate element, for better or worse. Glacious and her kind had always looked down on the other elements, but especially Wind which they thought of as a lowly, near useless element. Despite all that, Cynder still regretted the fate that had befallen her in the Siege of Warfang three years later.

"Here we go…" she remembered muttering under her breath as the Earth Guardian glared at them.

"I told you to stay behind me!" Terrador said crossly to the four survivors, "Formation integrity is essential!"

"We were in formation!" Spyro defended stoutly, proudly, "We were in our own formation, taking the initiative! Just like you taught us, right Terrador?"

"Yeah-that-that's right!" Flame has concurred nervously.

"Initiative is best called for in the absence of clear orders," the Earth Guardian responded firmly, "And my orders were clear, were they not?"

"Indeed they were, Master Terrador," Glacious said from amongst the rest of the flight, "It's obvious they clearly disregarded your orders!"

Spyro, Cynder, Flame and Ember had all looked behind to the blue scaled, blue-blooded dragoness with disdainful eyes, for she had always tried to get them in trouble whenever the chance came, though in truth they often did so without her.

"Why don't you worry about yourself, blabbermouth?" Ember shot back harshly, "You just wish you could keep up with us!"

"How dare you speak like that to me?" Glacious snapped venomously, "You little mixed breed, pink as a pig! Which side of the family did that come from?"

"GLACIOUS!" Terrador roared so loud all the young dragons had thought the whole world had heard it, "Hold your tongue! I will not tolerate that kind of disrespect in my lessons! Warriors must learn to work together no matter what their personal differences are! You young dragons must learn that if you are to one day depend on each other in mortal combat."

The very idea of mortal combat had seemed so far way then. The idea they could ever face real danger was incomprehensible to a group of playful nine-year-old dragons. Little had changed in the following three years aside from them growing bigger, not until that day in Avalar when their caretaker Meadow had been taken by the Apes to the Mountain of Malefor, when Spyro had decided he must try and rescue him. Beyond being what he thought was right, he had been trying to prove he was worthy of being the Purple Dragon of Legend. After the four of them had somehow survived that and returned, it seemed like there was nothing they couldn't tackle so long as they did it together. If only that had been true.

Cynder recalled looking at Spyro as he hovered beside her on her right, his attention not on Terrador but Glacious, appalled at the way she had spoken to Ember. Only Terrador's roar had stopped him from giving the foul Ice dragoness a mouthful of his own harsh words. Flame, who was not yet smitten with Ember then, had just hovered with a gob smacked expression with the others of the flight. But in Ember's case, even at that age the pink dragoness had fawned over Spyro like a love sick puppy, sure they would grow up to become mates one day.

Cynder remembered the way Spyro had looked back to her, shaking his head in shame to Glacious' remarks. She had nodded silently in agreement, even though part of her was glad she was not the one being bullied by Glacious for once. While she had not been looking, Cynder recalled poking her tongue out at her. Terrador had continued on in his speech about teamwork and survival in battle, the words of which she hadn't cared to remember at the time. What she recalled vividly, however, was what happened a few moments later. She had glanced across to Spyro with a bored yawn, only to notice the hardened, intense look that he had as he focused on something behind Terrador, only glimpsed between heavy beats of his mighty wings.

"What the matter, Spyro?" she had asked quickly yet softly, hoping to not draw their tutor's attention as he monologed to the gathered flight.

"There!" he had pointed with his right paw, the black dragoness following his guidance as they saw the waterfall trailing off the edge of the large, high island across from them and the movement that appeared on top of the rock wall further back.

A lone Atlawa warrior was locked in a deadly struggle, swiping and striking with his squarish wooden club imbedded with obsidian blades at three hulking figures that edged him closer to the rock wall. The figures were one of the curiosities of Tall Plains, sentient, bipedal golems of animated stone with torsos made from earth and tree roots, connecting to limbs made from stone blocks, forming the approximate likeness of arms, legs and a head. How or why they came to be Cynder didn't recall, only that they were often referred to as 'Rubble Brutes' and that they had always been told to avoid them while visiting Tall Plains.

"He's in trouble!" Spyro cried out, making Terrador and the rest of the flight look down towards the waterfall and finally see what the purple dragon's keen eyes had seen. And then just as quickly, Spyro had taken off f and dived straight down towards the embattled warrior! Cynder remembered being startled, but then taking off right after him with Flame and Ember doing the same, with Terrador shouting at them to come back, which they all ignored, even the then timid Flame. As they closed in, they recognized the Atlawa warrior as none other than Kane, the Chief of the tribe, his grey and white fur standing out from the green of the trees. One of the Brutes took a swipe with its arm, Kane swinging back with his club, but was finally forced back a step too far.

"KANE!" came Spyro's loudest, most terrified scream they had ever heard at that age. Kane fell like a stone from the top of the wall, crashing down back-first straight into the stream, the shallow water doing little to soften the impact. The stunned Llama was carried straight towards the edge, threatening to plummet to his doom before anyone, even Terrador, could reach him.

"He's gonna' fall!" she remembered Flame's shrieking in terror amidst all the other cries of horror from the rest of their flight mates, sure that he was right. And then…

In front of the startled eyes of the entire flight, the nine-year-old purple dragon whose head looked too big for his body, unleashed a glistening stream of aqua blue magic from his mouth that streamed across the air like a flaking wave of blue crystal! It crashed against the end of the falls in a cloud of blue and white mist like a wave crashing against sea rocks, forming a tongue of frozen water that sloped up above the falls and stopped Kane from going any further. The moment had left Cynder feeling speechless, for before that moment, Spyro had not yet discovered his Ice breath. It was the first time he had ever conjured it!

She with Flame and Ember had landed beside the purple dragon as he dropped down on the left side of the stream, where they saw Kane laying dazed against the sculpture of ice that had suddenly appeared and stopped him from falling over the edge. They had barely taken notice of Terrador swooping overhead and diving in to deal with the Rubble Brutes atop the rock wall as they stared in shock and wonder at what Spyro had done! Cynder remembered how sheepish the Atlawa Chief had looked when he looked up at the wall of ice that had saved him and the small purple dragon who had created it. Ember had been ecstatic, bouncing around like a spring lamb with excitement,

"Spyro, how did you do that? That was awesome! Amazing!"
"Yeah, cool!" beamed Flame.

"Always trying to show off, huh?" Cynder remembered herself telling him sarcastically, though inside she was leaping around as much as Ember. The rest of the flight of young dragons landed around them on the grass, cheering and exclaiming in wonder and admiration for Spyro's feat. All the young dragons that was, except for Glacious who moodily turned her nose up at the purple dragon's accomplishment.

"Bah! I could have done that! My first Ice summoning was twice as big!"

Spyro had just looked at her as he kept smiling with his big, full-length smile that almost never left his pudgy purple face. Cynder remembered smiling back, never feeling so proud to know him than she had at that time, seeing her friend, the Legendary Purple Dragon finally awake his Ice element and save someone at the same time! Technically there was still Wind he hadn't mastered, but nobody really counted that, so it didn't matter.

"I was just trying to help," Spyro had said humbly, happily to all those praising him. How wonderful life had once been…

Cynder opened her eyes, the smile that had fought its way across her mouth during her recollection was struck down almost immediately as the grey overcast sky bought her back to the present, back to reality. It came as a shock to her, the black dragoness drawing a sharp breath as if she had been violently awoken, her heart bleeding again. She glanced across at the stream beside her, her head following it as the water poured off the edge into the cloudy abyss. The memories of that time were as clear as yesterday, yet felt like a century ago. Spyro, herself, Flame and Ember, all together and carefree where the only danger had been the cold remarks of the bully Glacious. Born together, raised together, growing and playing together like brothers and sisters, friends and family, perhaps more. The Four Survivors, The Lucky Ones, the Four Who Lived among many other variations they had given themselves or by others in response to their antics and infamous history.

Now here she was alone, from four down to three and now down to one. Three years ago, she had lost Spyro and a day ago she lost Flame and Ember, her closest friends, her family. And she knew she was to blame for that. If only she hadn't been so weak and fainted after she used her Wind power to blast away that falling debris inside Perisher's Keep. If only she had been awake to join them in the fight against the Fearnaught and the Skavengers when they arrived. If only she hadn't been born as a Wind dragon and could harness something better, something more useful, something more prestigious than mere Wind breath. Maybe then they would still be with her, maybe she could have saved them!

'You don't know,' said the one remaining shred of hope in her mind, 'They might still be alive…'

But that thought was heartrendingly familiar. Cynder had told herself the same thing when they had learned of the fate of Spyro and Ignitus. In those early days when they had fled the Dragon City and then the Temple, when chaos and fear gripped the realms as they struggled to regroup in the face of Gaul's attack. All the Guardians but Terrador had been missing along with Spyro, no one knowing if they were alive or dead. Cynder, Flame and Ember had all held out hope that the missing member of their quad would soon be back with them along with Ignitus, refusing to believe for a moment they could be among those already lost.

Then they had met up with Hunter and the courier dragon Finbarr after their harrowing escape through the fires that had consumed the forests outside Warfang, the fires started during the heroic last stand of their friend and mentor against the Masked Assassin. With their own eyes, Hunter and Finbarr had seen the bodies of the two heroes, the two who had seemed so much like father and son, fighting to the death alongside each other. Cynder had not wanted to believe it, nor had Flame and Ember, but it was something they had to accept along with all the others who stood in defiance to Gaul's rule over the land. But now she had to face the reality of losing her other closest companions in the war that had consumed her life and ended her childhood in a day.

She was only fifteen, yet Cynder felt like she had been fighting her whole life. As she looked across the scenery in front of her, as the misty clouds came and went around the islands and plateaus of Tall Plains, it seemed almost possible to forget that for a moment, to think of the world as it had been to her before the war. To remember how it felt to not be alone. From the corner of her eye something appeared in the sky, Cynder reacting on instinct as she pounced back from the edge and into a ready stance as her eyes fixed and glared onto the black shape that had swept in from behind her and then shot up into a climb in front of her. Her heartrate had accelerated to a raging pace in an instant, symptomatic of her war nerves and heightened reflexes.

In her mind she had seen a Dreadwing dive out of the clouds, but reality quickly came back before she had a chance to conjure an attack against it. A little black and orange winged rodent, a Skiffter, no bigger than a rabbit, had dived in from up high and swept down in front of her, startling her. The glider's enormous eyes stood out like a pair of plump oranges on its head, its kite like wings spread out around its body as it rose and fell in short hops like a boat skimming across an uneven sea. The realization bought the dragoness no joy, only adding to her sense of forlorn that such a harmless critter had bought her into such an intense state in a place so tranquil.

She watched as the Skiffter continued to hop for a few more moments as the clouds thickened, the critter slowly vanishing behind the misty white veil before disappearing altogether. As her heart settled and her demeanor calmed, Cynder was unable to shake the thought of how easily the little glider had come and gone so easily, so freely. As she stepped back closer to the edge, a thought that she had never seriously considered began to creep in, a thought that had only ever been a hypothetical speck that came and went once in a while, just as all dark thoughts did in the minds of even the most virtuous. But right now, it had never felt so tempting.

Why not just go? Why didn't she just spread her wings and leave? Vanish into the clouds like the Skiffter and find somewhere new, somewhere away from all this? There had to be someplace in the world untouched by Gaul's hand and the boot of his army. Somewhere she could leave all the pain behind and start afresh. What difference would it make if she left? The Legion would be no worse off if a single heartbroken, adolescent Wind dragoness suddenly disappeared from their ranks. Maybe Hunter would miss her, Mason too. Volteer might as well, Terrador and Cyril too if it turned out they were still alive… or Flame and Ember…

The wind blew up and around her, making her wings gently rise as if urging her to go, Cynder feeling her heart pounding as the argument to stay was steadily pushed further and further from her mind.

"So there you are!" a gruff voice called suddenly from behind, "I thought I might find you here!"

Cynder perked up as she half turned around to see the voice coming from atop the rock wall, as well as the frustrated eyes of the Llama it belonged to. Standing there with hands on hips was none other than Kane himself, the one who's life had been saved from falling off the very cliff she seemed poised to take off from. Shame, guilt, or perhaps just the fact that now there was someone to witness her hypothetical desertion quickly drove any thoughts of flight out of her mind.

Kane wore the traditional Atlawa attire of a blue belted, skirt like garment around his waist with the parallel colors of yellow, lively green and dark blue in that order. The sight of it immediately reminded the black dragoness of the poncho of the same colors Flame had bought and worn from the Atlawa stall in Warfang that time. Kane was holding a simple bamboo staff in his left hand while his bladed club was tucked into his belt, his thick grey and white fur, especially the dark mask like pattern around his eyes, stood out just the same as it had those years ago. The tuft of fur under his neck and the tips of his ears were grey also, as was the triple pointed mohawk like mane that stood out on top of his head but not as much as his impatient look as he scowled at Cynder down below.

"Hi, Kane," she said dully as her eyes quickly lost interest in him and wandered back to the scenery around her.

"Didn't we tell you to stay out of the open?" he rasped quickly, "Get away from the edge, it's not safe!"

Cynder sighed reluctantly, paying the tempting clouds one last look before she turned and began walking back towards Kane, taking only a few steps before she opened her wings and made the half hop half flight to reach the top of the rock wall. She dropped down beside the Atlawa Chief, only then realizing he was accompanied by two other warriors who were just out of sight from the bottom of the wall.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Kane asked her in consternation, "You told no one where you were going!"

"Sorry," the black dragoness replied halfheartedly, "I just… needed to be alone for a while. There's been a lot going on…"

Kane's normally stern demeanor softened a fraction as he sighed with a degree of understanding. As Cynder prepared to march off to be escorted back by the other two Llama's, Kane put his hand out and muttered softly, "Wait."

Cynder really didn't want to, but she lacked the energy for an argument and simply turned her back on the two other Atlawa and stood just off to Kane's right side. She watched him looking across where she had just been, scanning the stream running towards the edge and the misty sky that moments ago seemed like the gateway to freedom. Kane watched for a few more moments before he turned his head just enough for his eyes to catch that of the black dragoness.

"I knew you would be here, because I remember what happened here as I'm sure you do," he said as he finally turned his whole head to look at her, "How long ago was it? Five? Six years?"

"Sure," Cynder replied nonspecifically. Kane simply took his answer as right as he looked back to the view thoughtfully.

"I recall not being as gracious to Spyro as I should have been," he confessed bluntly, "I insisted that the Atlawa and its Chief needed no help."

"It's a little late for an apology now, isn't it?" said Cynder shortly. She did not like Kane much, he reminded her too greatly of Chief Prowlus, always stern and quick to chastise her and her compatriots whenever they could. She thought that perhaps they acted that way, even during peacetime, to look assertive to their people and to not look like they were beholden to the wishes of the dragons. Perhaps because of them a part of her disliked authority figures, the only exceptions being Hunter, Mason and the Guardians as much as she could tell. Still, at least Kane and the Atlawa were willing to actively help the Legion and had not broken off ties and become common bandits like Prowlus and his followers.

Cynder made a step to leave, but seeing Kane turn to her in the corner of her eye made her stop. She looked up at him as she walked across to just in front of her, taking his hands off his hips as he looked down at her. She looked back impassively as he regarded her peculiarly before he took a knee and poked the bottom of his bamboo staff into the ground.

"Look, I know you would probably rather just be left alone, but it would be irresponsible of me to not tell you what's needs to be said," he explained with a hint of sympathy, "I know that you are missing your friends and I hope that we may yet still see their return. If what you have survived before is any clue, alone or together you certainly know how to cause trouble and get out of it."

Cynder knew what he was trying to do and that it was well intended, but the Atlawa Chief's gruff manner and her already present dislike of him meant little of it rubbed off. Her gloomy exterior was barely a shadow of what she really felt and were it not for the three years of war that had hardened her, she likely would have broken down and wept like she had in secret when had accepted that Spyro was dead. Perhaps she would do so the same for Flame and Ember when they finally got back to the Legion's main hideout in the Avalarian Alps, but for now she had to hide it with frail stoicism.

"I just wish I had been there for them," she remarked softly, "Wish I could have been there to help them. They might be here now…"

"Or you could have ended up as they did, whatever that was," Kane said pointedly, "What they did, they did for you as much as Volteer or Hunter. They would not begrudge you for missing the fight."

"But I do!" Cynder retorted coldly, "We were supposed to always look out for each other, always have each other's backs. Now they might be dead or in the hands of the Apes or the Skavengers! I should be with them."

Kane sighed heavily, "You are not the only one to feel that way, Cynder, as irresponsible as it is. Every time a member of my tribe has been lost or enslaved by these Apes, part of me always feels it should have been me. But it does neither of us any good feeling that way, we cannot change what has already happened or drown our minds with thought of what may have been done. We can only focus on what to do now and in the future."

He stood up and brushed off the grass on his knee, once again putting his hands on his hips, "Whatever has become of them, I'm sure they would not want you to endanger yourself by getting reckless and losing sight of the bigger picture, Cynder. I do not mean to be unkind, but there will be more death before this war is over and the best thing you can do for yourself is get used to it. Hunter and the others seem to think highly of you, so do not let them down. Put your feelings away for later."

Gruff and to the point, exactly what Cynder always remembered and disliked about him. She let out a sound like a cough, but it was in fact a humorless laugh as the irony finally struck her about everything he said, for she had already heard it more or less a couple of days ago.

"We remember them how we remember all the comrades we have lost," she recited diligently, "We honor them by carrying on the struggle that they paid with their lives for. So that when this is all over, we may take all the time we wish to mourn for them."

Kane lifted an eyebrow queerly, crossing his arms as the black dragoness looked up at him as if awaiting assessment.

"That's a noble thought," he agreed curiously, "Is it yours?"

"Hunter's," she replied flatly, "It's something he told me a little while ago. Something he said while we… while we were talking about what happened to Spyro," she said gloomily. She looked away from him and straight ahead through the pair of awaiting Atlawa warriors, Kane wiping his hand across his mouth as he too looked towards them and the jungle beyond.

"His loss was felt here too, Cynder," he said somberly, "What I was going to say, before you interrupted me with your apology remark," he glared sharply, "Is that to honor him and your Guardian Ignitus, we appointed them as honorary members of the Atlawa tribe. To commend their bravery and to make up for my lack of gratitude for Spyro saving my life."

Cynder looked surprised, and she was. The pride of the Atlawa tribe was as hard as the rock that made up their many islands and she could only recall a few times they had ever extended such a title to anyone outside their own kind. It was almost enough to lift some of the despair that weighed down her heart as she looked into the dark furred sockets of the Llama's eyes.

"Thank you," she said timidly. Perhaps he was less like Prowlus than she thought. Kane nodded but quickly avoided her gaze, clearing his throat as if embarrassed to have shared this moment with her, and for admitting he had been wrong for not being as grateful as he should have been after being saved by Spyro. He quickly changed the subject.

"Well then, Hunter has given you his advice as I have mine. It would do you good to try and listen to it," he said with an air of finality, "Come now, we have spent enough time here. Let's go!" Cynder remained idle, frowning at the return of his usual gruffness, wondering if it was just the nature of the Atlawa to do so after showing the slightest hint of sensitivity.

"Right," she muttered listlessly, swaying on her feet but making no effort to move in the vain hope they would leave without her. When Kane walked a few steps and then looked behind, she sighed feebly and slowly stepped towards the other two Atlawa warriors, their Chief entering a slow stroll just in front to her left, glancing back as if ready to catch her should she deviate from the path. The black dragoness locked her eyes ahead as the two warriors stepped back to let her and Kane approach before walking in line beside them, the sky letting out another growl of thunder.

As though answering the thunder, Cynder paused and craned her neck around, looking back towards the spectacular view where her memories had stirred, where she had seen Spyro in the clouds and been startled by the Skiffter. A scathing jolt to her conscience reminded her of what had nearly occurred when she had stood poised on the edge of the cliff, ready to disappear after the little critter. Before she attracted attention or thought too hard about it, she looked ahead and moved briskly to catch up with the Llamas. She could not let such thoughts go so far again, not while there was any chance at all that Flame and Ember were still out there and might make it back to them. She had to hope they were luckier than Spyro and Ignitus had been. And if they hadn't? Well, she would find out the next time there was no one around to stop her from leaving but herself.

End of Chapter 13

Next Chapter: The Will to Fight

Note from the author:

The Skiffter I mentioned is a creature that appears in some concept art for Tall Plains in A New Beginning. I had not originally intended to include the Skavengers when I planned this story since their inclusion in The Eternal Night felt like filler to me and distracted from the main plot for too long. But the more I thought about it I realized I could use them in a way to give Flame and Ember more of their own story because I was kind of stuck on what they would be doing for much of the story since I had a clearer idea of what I wanted to do with Spyro and Cynder than I did with Flame and Ember. Without giving any spoilers, I decided that the Skavengers would be a good reason to take them away from the main story in order to do what I wanted with the plotlines for Spyro and Cynder in order for things to happen the way I wanted them. And if you are familiar with Dawn of the Dragon, I'm sure you noticed how I basically used the opening from that game as the basis for Flame and Ember's introduction to the Skavengers, including dialogue and the infamous snake collars.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and see you in the next chapter!