Chapter 14:
The Will to Fight
The rain had started to fall again as the party of three Atlawa and one dragoness followed the jungle trail back where they came, the sky now grumbling aloud with the thunder that had teased its reappearance. The thick overhead canopy helped to keep the worst of the rain off, even as it trickled down every plant and tree they passed by. Large green plants with leaves as big as iron shields hanging from their stalks were everywhere to be seen, the leaves filled with holes and parallel slashes where insects had eaten a path through them. With the rain and the overcast sky, the jungle floor was surprisingly dark with the great trees seeming to funnel them only in the direction they wished for them to go. Looking to her left and right, Cynder could make out little in the jungle that was only surrounding her.
A rainy, hazy blur of shadows and shapes, trees with vines reaching to the next like an endless network of snakes and blossoming ferns with cabbage like silhouettes dotting the floor. She glanced up at the jungle canopy, barely catching a speck of the grey sky through the dense treetops as the rain dripped down onto her face. As she shook off her eyes, she saw Kane wipe his hand over his head and ears, his damp fur setting down as he led them on. She glanced behind at the two Atlawa warriors following her, wondering if they were there by coincidence or by intention should she have tried to disobey Kane's directive.
Kane brushed a thick handful of brush from his path, holding it clear as he waited for her and the others to catch up. As Cynder brushed past, she kept her eyes straight forward to the path ahead, the feeling of being in front of the group having a strange effect on her. She felt unconstrained, even with the jungle all around her. Ahead of the others, she felt a sense of exhilaration as if it was the moment she had been subconsciously waiting for. Ahead was the jungle, above the thick canopy was the clouds and a chance to get away with nobody in front to stop her!
The thought only lasted a moment, but the sheer enthusiasm that it conjured in the black dragoness was borderline disturbing. The shock of it was enough to make her stop in her tracks, giving Kane and the others the mistaken impression she had paused to wait for them. When the Atlawa Chief stepped by her left side, she nearly jumped, her reaction receiving a queer look from the Llama.
"What is it?" he asked with gruff confoundment.
"Oh, er," Cynder stuttered meekly, "Nothing."
"Then do not block the trail. Keep moving!" Kane ordered as he strode ahead and beckoned the other two warriors on, Cynder forced onwards as she felt them walking close behind her. The rain became heavier as they moved on, its hard rhythm filling the jungle air as the trail winded through the lush greenery, the mist occasionally cutting in front of them as the dark clouds rumbled above.
'What's the matter with me?' Cynder wondered almost frightfully, 'I nearly tried. Almost…'
The trail, although well worn, was not all easy going by any means. The path through the jungle at times climbed slopes and dropped down steep banks, the increasing rain turning the ground soggy as grass gave way to mud. Cynder had found it easier on the way through the first time, using her wings to hop up the inclines and simply glide down the slopes, but now it was darker and raining, making the way back more difficult. With the danger of Dreadwing patrols scanning the treetops, even in adverse weather she could not simply fly above and make her own way like she may have in the past. Instead, she was forced to trudge through the jungle on foot. Perhaps it was for the best since she didn't know what she might do if she took to the air; whether the intrusive thoughts would take over again.
Eventually, as they came closer to their destination, they began to see more than just trees, ferns and rock. Alongside the jungle trail they passed by the crumbling remains of a stone totem, made up of four stone cubes placed on top of each other each as large as what Cynder had been three years ago. The sides of each block depicted a carved image relating to the Atlawa tribe; some looked like menacing stone faces while others depicted strange shapes and symbols related to their beliefs. There were some that looked almost like gears while others showed their own interpretation of the symbol of the Earth element. Such totems were usually found around the Atlawa settlements and villages.
A little further on, as the mist drifted through the trees around them, Cynder made out the stone archway of the bridge she had crossed over earlier, one of the many bamboo bridges found throughout Tall Plains. The rain and mist shrouded the bridge in a ghostly smoke as it crossed over a deep ravine that cut through the jungle, though the distance across was not great, the rain running off the moss-covered bamboo made traversing it decidedly unappealing. Though Cynder of course could have crossed the gap with a barely a few flaps of her wings, she did not want to appear to be showing off to her Atlawa companions who made such treacherous crossings every day.
"Watch your footing," warned Kane from the front as he stepped through the stone archway and onto the bridge, the mist obscuring the view to barely a few feet in front of him. The uncomfortable thought that anything could be awaiting on the other side of the mist was hard to suppress, but Cynder's heightened war senses would not allow her to dismiss it outright. The ominous atmosphere created by the storm did not help as she stepped onto the sticky moss covering the bamboo bridge, the rain breaking through the canopy with a vengeance as a shrieking wind suddenly entered the fray just as they all stepped onto the precarious span.
Cynder had to pull her wings down as the wind nearly made them rise, Kane staggering for a moment as he kept a grip on the bamboo railing, one of the warriors behind her bumping into her as he tripped forward on the wet moss.
"Forgive me!" he hastily remarked as he looked up to see her emerald eyes looking back at him indignantly, though it quickly faded as she realized the folly of being mad at him.
"It's okay!" she replied, raising her voice over the storm.
"Keep moving!" Kane called from the lead, stepping firmly but cautiously onward, "We've weathered worse than this!"
"I'd hate to try flying through it…" the black dragoness said wonderingly, looking up at the pelting rain. Before she wondered too much, she pushed herself forward after Kane as the bamboo bridge creaked under their weight, a loud thrash of thunder bellowing at them. The wind helped to clear the mist, but the rain was near blinding as the end of the bridge finally came into view, the second stone archway rising from the other side of the ravine. So, there wasn't anything waiting for them through the mist, a sure relief.
"Come along!" Kane urged as he stood to the side of the end of the bridge and waved them on, his hands pushing the back of Cynder's wings as he moved her along, doing the same for the two other warriors as they stepped and stumbled finally to the other side. Back under the cover of the trees, the rain lessened a little as the group reconvened by another of the Atlawa stone totems. After wiping off his face again, Kane bitterly remarked, "The weather is unbalanced. It has been ever since those Apes came here! All our seasons are troubled. It's a wonder we can still raise crops at all."
Cynder made no remark, for although she had no desire to offend them, she did not put much credence in the beliefs of the Atlawa, who believed that their efforts to live in cooperation with nature had a direct impact on the number of crops they yielded. It was only common sense to her that keeping the land in good order would produce healthy crops and that the weather was beyond the control of anyone, no matter how powerful or kind to the land they were. Even the Apes seemed to recognize this, for the farmlands of Tall Plains under their control were still tended to by the Atlawa who lived under occupation, the Apes deciding it was better to let them tend their own crops than take on the responsibility themselves. Of course, these slave farmers did not get to keep most of their yield.
Leaving the bridge behind, the group continued along the trail as the surrounding jungle became increasingly rock riddled as they went. On a clear day, the reason would have been obvious from afar, but the rain and mist kept them nearly blind as more of the square stone totems appeared alongside the trail, at times appearing from the mist like stone monsters waiting to ambush them. There was always the chance of roaming Rubble Brutes, like those who had ambushed Kane those years ago, hiding in the veil amongst the boulders…
A few moments later, they arrived. The fog seemed to part for them as they stopped before what at first glance looked like a large mound of rock rising before them. But if one took a closer look, they would notice the occasional outline of rectangular stone blocks and the roots of trees and plants that had squeezed their way in between or overgrown them. The curious structure from afar looked no different from any of the numerous rock formations or mounds that would be found throughout Tall Plains, the blanket of plant life that had been carefully planted and allowed to grow over making for the perfect camouflage of the safekeep. It was one of many hidden shelters throughout Tall Plains that had been built as a place of refuge from either extreme weather or from attack.
The Atlawa freedom fighters had made extensive use of them since the beginning of the Ape occupation, with some having been captured or destroyed by the Apes in that time, though most remained undiscovered. Kane stepped up to the rock wall covered by a layer of vegetation, pushing his hand through it like a curtain and peeling it back, revealing an unnaturally flat surface as a heavy, rectangular stone door stood before him, bearing the carved, blocky face of the Stone Sentinel, the Atlawa Shrine God. Kane slipped his bamboo staff into his belt, drawing out his bladed club and bracing it in both hands, raising it above his head and tilting the butt of the club towards the door.
Cynder shook off the rain dripping down the scales of her face as Kane pounded the door hard with three slow, steady strikes of the butt of his club. The other two warriors cautiously watched the rear to be sure they were not being watched as they waited for a reply, hoping the storm had not drowned them out.
Thud! Thud! Thud! came the reply from behind the door, repeated in perfect mimic to the timing of Kane's pounding. Kane lifted his club again, striking the door again in a different sequence.
Thud! He paused for two seconds. Then he struck twice more in quick succession and waited for three seconds. Finally, he gave the door four more strikes in two second intervals and after the fourth, paused again before pounding it in three quick strikes. From behind the door, a deep clunk sound came and then the door began to lower for them, rumbling as it slid into the ground.
"Guess three knocks is just too easy, right?" Cynder remarked sarcastically. Kane shot a quick glare at her as he stepped aside from the newly opened doorway and ushered her and the others forward.
"If you please," he said tersely as he waved her on, the black dragoness stepping through with the two other warriors and Kane bringing up the rear. Inside, they were greeted by a pair of flaming torches on either side of the doorway and another pair of Atlawa warriors, this time two females wearing green, yellow and blue dresses without sleeves and wielding the same bladed clubs. Their fur was noticeably more trimmed than their male counterparts, with the fur around their heads bound and fashioned into elegant dreadlocks that dangled like a head of snakes down the back of their necks. The torchlight reflected down the walls around the entrance of the chamber which were made from carved blocks of stone that formed the curved shape of a dome like that of a large igloo. Just behind the two Atlawa females was a palisade wall of sharpened bamboo with an open gate in the center, four Atlawa warriors on each side standing with bows on parapets behind the palisade. They relaxed upon seeing her and the others walk through the door.
"We are pleased to see you back, Chief Kane," one of them said formally, "And you have found our dragon friend too," she added with a smile at Cynder.
"I just needed some air," the black dragoness explained simply, giving a faint smile in return. Kane stepped forward and addressed the nearest female warrior, "And we are glad to have returned. Where is Hunter?"
"Still in the central chamber," she replied quickly.
"Good, then we can get on with this," he replied impatiently, turning to Cynder and asking gruffly, "Can I trust you to go to him without an escort?"
"I think I can manage," she replied sardonically.
"Then go ahead and see him, he has words for you and I have matters to attend to," Kane said dismissively before he turned away and began talking with the other Atlawa members. With a flustered sigh, Cynder began walking towards the gate, barely glancing at the Atlawa archers who watched her impassively as she strode through the palisade. Behind them were more torches that lined the expanding dome of the safekeep and revealed more defenses and structures. She walked through the stone archway of a draw bridge that laid its span down like a wooden tongue across a dark pit dug out of the ground which, barely visible in the torchlight, was filled with sharpened bamboo stakes. Alongside the drawbridge was another palisade wall that filled the edges of the dome with more archers on duty and a pair of ballistae mounted on stone towers that could be directed at any point across the gap. Cynder walked briskly across the wooden bridge, keenly aware of what would happen if she tripped and fell, quickly moving through the second gate and past the palisade.
The dome ended with a round doorway a short distance behind the defenses, Cynder passing by a few campfires of the defenders as she moved on through further into the safekeep. As soon as she passed through the short hallway connecting them, she entered another, larger dome, the center of the safekeep where Hunter awaited her. As if on cue, she heard a soothing, welcoming echo off the walls of the dome as a flute was played somewhere up ahead. The grass suddenly felt softer as the music filled the dome alongside the sound of voices and the flicker of campfires as Cynder began passing by the various residents of the safekeep. From the entrance, the dome spread out with a circle of campfires around its edge as most of the ground in the center dropped out of sight with wooden boxes and Atlawen pottery littering the surroundings.
Llama-folk from small children to adults carried out various tasks throughout the dome; some were eating from the stews they boiled over their fires, others were knitting clothes and performing others chores or were simply sleeping while they could. Off to her right, she observed an Atlawa mother pouring water from a vase into two bowls for her children, only for the pair to immediately throw the water on each other before putting the bowls on their heads and running amok in fits of laugher as their frustrated mother tried to reclaim them. Cynder smiled as she passed, but inside was almost spiteful with jealousy at their happiness despite the current situation, unable to imagine herself ever feeling so lighthearted as they were.
Cynder paused at the edge of the drop, looking down to see how the safekeep descended into a spiral that went around like a spring for five levels, each ring of the spiral populated by more campfires as the path of each ring was wide enough to allow traversal without getting in the way of each camp. There were several Moles of her group camped amongst the Atlawa along the spiral until it reached the bottom where a single campfire burned in the center of the ring. As she looked down upon it, she saw Hunter sitting in front of the fire facing away from her, but Cynder's attention immediately turned to the winged, four-legged figure standing on the other side of the flames speaking to Hunter.
"Finbarr?" she exclaimed quietly to herself, the surprising appearance of the blue and orange former courier dragon made her gasp in hope. Finbarr was part of Terrador's force, which must have meant they had returned!
"Finbarr!" she called out excitedly, causing him and Hunter to stop and look up at her, Cynder at once leaping from the top of the spiral and gliding down to them. She landed quickly at the bottom of the spiral to the right of Hunter, but her attention was all on Finbarr.
"You're here! That's great! What's happening?" she asked spritely.
"Hello, Cynder," Finbarr replied with a subdued smile. Strapped around his waist and over his back was a broad leather saddle like he had worn during his pre-war days as a courier whilst behind him was another stone archway that led further on into the safekeep.
"Nice to have you back with us," Hunter remarked somewhat irritably, his voice making her look sheepishly back at him, "It would be appreciated if you wouldn't wander off in future without telling me."
"Sorry, Hunter," she apologized, forcing her to quash the excitement that she had allowed to overcome her, "But Finbarr is here! Where's Terrador? Did you find Cyril?"
"That's just what Finbarr has finished telling me about," Hunter said glumly, slipping his fingers together pensively, "Unfortunately, we don't know yet. Terrador hasn't commenced his attack yet."
"What?" cried Cynder, "Then what is he doing here?"
"Terrador sent me to contact Hunter and to report back if you were successful in rescuing Volteer and to deliver his new orders. I won't be staying long, you see," Finbarr explained, nodding over to the pile of scrolls to Hunter's left side that Cynder had not been aware of.
"Since Cynder is here now, perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her the abridged version of what you have just told me," Hunter beckoned to Finbarr.
"Of course, Hunter," the courier dragon nodded, taking a seat on his haunches as the black dragoness did the same, his eyes conveying to her the regret of having disappointed her.
"I know you were hoping to find us waiting for you with Cyril safe and sound when you arrived," Finbarr began grimly, "But the weather has delayed us badly, not to mention trying to move around unnoticed. We have only just arrived at our staging area as close to the shrine as we can get without being detected. I've just come from there."
"To have done so in this weather is commendable," Hunter added warmly, "Your time as a courier has served you well in the Legion."
"Many thanks, Hunter," Finbarr smiled humbly.
"Cynder, take a look at this," the Cheetah warrior said as he reached over and grasped from amongst the scrolls Finbarr had delivered. He laid the map out between himself and her, the black dragoness gazing down as Hunter turned the map to face her and flattened his paws across it. It was a map of Tall Plains, its many islands and islets depicted on an extremely small scale to fit on the single parchment. To look at, it was a series of dozens of small green shapes with the larger islands and plateaus mainly clustered around the center of the maze of rock formations. Hunter tapped his finger on one of the larger islands in the cluster, the one she recognized as where they were, the inscription above it reading, 'Hurricos'
"We're here on Hurricos, as you know," Hunter said plainly, "Finbarr has just come from here," he said as he traced his finger across the map to an islet amongst those furthest to the east of Tall Plains, which looked barely impressive on the map, let alone one would imagine in real life. Cynder did not need to guess where his finger was headed next though, for the last portion of the map showed two isolated islands far to the east of the rest with a decorative symbol drawn above them; a hexagonal disk with a blue and yellow outline. In its center was the square head and face of the Atlawa Shrine God, the Stone Sentinel. Scribbled above the two islands, the first which was a rough 'C' shape and the second in a squarish shape was the word 'SHRINE' in capital letters. The Cheetah's finger sure enough dragged across the empty section of the map towards it.
"That's some forty miles from here," Hunter declared surely, "In clear weather we would cover that distance swiftly by air, even with the Ape air patrols that guard the shrine. But in this weather with the poor visibility, we would be forced to move at a snail's pace just to navigate safely."
"So what's the plan?" Cynder queried.
"I will have to convene with Kane to finalize the details, but in short, the plan is to link up with Terrador's forces and assist in the attack on the shrine, as per his new orders," Hunter said as he reached over and held up one of the other parchments.
"Good, but what about Volteer?" asked Cynder cautiously, "He still hasn't regained his powers. Where is he by the way?"
"I passed him down there," Finbarr answered, nodding to the passage behind him, "I was thrilled to see he is alright, still as chatty as ever! Well done for finding him, by the way. Hunter tells me you had to fight a giant Ice troll to free him!"
"We can compare war stories later," Hunter butted in impatiently, "As for Volteer, Terrador's new orders are these; he wants us to evacuate him back to the Legion before we set off to regroup for the attack on the shrine."
"Evacuate?" asked Cynder for clarity.
"He says that keeping Volteer here is an unnecessary risk now that the attack on the shrine has been delayed. By now Gaul is likely aware we are making a move to rescue Cyril, so we must get Volteer out of here safely before Gaul sends half his army to stop us."
"That's is, if I may say so," Finbarr added anxiously, "If Cyril is indeed here and that we haven't been led on a wild goose chase."
"Even if we have, Gaul wouldn't miss a chance to recapture Volteer and deliver a major blow to us, so we must at the very least make sure that doesn't happen."
"Right," Cynder nodded, "So when do we go?"
"There is something else we need to discuss, first," Hunter said as he scratched the back of his neck, an air of reluctance in his tone and eyes. As the black dragoness eyed him quizzically, Hunter turned over and gathered a satchel off to his side. He stood up and walked around the fire towards Finbarr who watched him like a loyal hound awaiting his next command.
"I must commend you again, Finbarr, but Terrador will be expecting you back. I have my report for you to deliver to him. Take half an hour to get yourself something to eat and then be on your way. But I'm forewarning you that you may have to make a return trip if Terrador agrees to my proposal," Hunter said as he patted his shoulder fondly and before stepping over to the saddle bags on Finbarr's left and tucking the satchel inside it.
"Yes, of course," the courier dragon said readily, "Always happy to be of service."
"And we're glad to have you," Hunter nodded with a firm smile, patting him on the shoulder once more. Finbarr smiled brightly as he turned his attention back to Cynder, who sat quietly by the fire and watched with an amused smirk.
"Well, I'd best get ready then," said Finbarr with a touch of sadness of having to leave so soon, "It's good to see you again, Cynder."
"And you," she replied sweetly, "Take care out there, okay?"
"Nothing has stopped me yet," he said lightly, "What's a little rain?"
"Right," she chuckled, just before she added with a thin layer of seriousness, "Good luck, Finbarr."
"Same to all of you. Hunter, Cynder," he gave a final nod before he departed, turning and walking back down the tunnel from where he had come. The Cheetah warrior and black dragoness watched him wander off until he was out of sight, Hunter sighing tiredly as he rubbed the back of his neck. When he turned and looked at Cynder, she was still sitting as before, her expression locked in a state of distraction, her eyes unmoving and unblinking. He stepped back around the fire to where he had been, standing over her by her left side, waiting for her to notice.
After a few moments, she asked plainly, "Did you tell him about Flame and Ember?"
Hunter grimaced as he sat down by the fire, "Yes," he confessed dully as he looked down at his lap, "Of course it's in my report as well, alongside all our other casualties."
"He didn't say anything," Cynder remarked bluntly. Hunter looked up cautiously,
"I think he didn't want to sour the mood," he suggested with a shrug of his paw.
"He was right not to," she said tersely, Cynder finally shuffling around in his direction, scooting herself over closer to him, her emerald eyes were as direct as a sharp jab to the ribs. "So, what is it you have to say?" she demanded impatiently, her pleasant demeanor gone with Finbarr as Hunter groaned reluctantly.
"Cynder, you won't be coming with us," he said apologetically.
"What? Why?" she exclaimed.
"I have another task for you," he explained seriously as he looked behind to the other parchments he had beside his other satchel bag. The first he collected was a rolled-up scroll which seemed quite weighty judging by its bulging size. He held it up for a moment with a careful reverence as if it was a staff of solid gold. Feeling her eyes piercing him, Hunter lowered the parchment and leveled his gaze to her.
"While you were indisposed on the way here, Volteer and I discussed everything he recalled about his time in captivity and what he told us about the crystal Gaul used upon him and Cyril. It is all written down here, alongside his many theories and stipulations of what it could mean. These words are worth their weight in gold and whatever may happen to the rest of us, it is imperative that these scrolls make it back to the rest of the Legion."
"The rest of us? I don't understand," Cynder said unsurely.
"Cynder," Hunter said gravely, "Sometimes success is measured in what we learn, not who we save. We set out to rescue Volteer and Cyril and I believe we still will. But there is every chance that they may be recaptured or worse in the next day or so. If that happens, all of this will be for nothing. Bringing them back will be a great asset to the Legion and a boost for morale, but if we fail, we must at least be sure that what we have learned makes it back to our compatriots. Information wins wars just as much victories in battle."
The black dragoness looked unimpressed with the Cheetah warrior's reasoning.
"So losing all of us is acceptable but losing these pieces of parchment is not?" she asked scathingly. Hunter overlooked her insubordinate remark, barely.
"You know that isn't what I mean, Cynder," he replied slowly.
"Well, its sure what it sounds like!" she snapped coldly, "Do you even care that we…" Before she could go on, Hunter's eyes froze on her with a look that was borderline dangerous, Cynder feeling their sting as she promptly stood down from her near act of open insubordination.
"I'm sorry, Hunter," she said lowly with a shameful shake of her head, "I know you do. I have no right to talk to you like that."
"I'd take it more personally if I didn't know you so well," he replied, smiling wanly. She gave the faintest smirk in reply before she leaned her head back and stared up at the domed ceiling, her wings dropping flatly. She sighed ruefully as she looked down and off to the side.
"I let them down, Hunter. I wasn't there when they needed me."
"No, Cynder," Hunter told her firmly as he rose to a kneel and leaned across and placed his paw in her left shoulder, "You let no one down. What you did allowed us to escape from Perisher's Keep. If you had not acted, we would all be buried under rubble. The fact it took so much out of you is nothing to be ashamed of."
"I feel like I'm buried right now," she remarked cynically.
"Come now, Cynder," Hunter said reassuringly as he tightened his grip on her shoulder, "We all feel the loss of Flame and Ember just as hard as you do. We owe them greatly for the help they gave the Frostflyer's in aiding our escape. We must hold out hope that they are still alive, even if it means they are in the hands of the Skavengers."
Cynder snorted, "I don't really know if that's better or not."
Hunter sighed as he withdrew his paw and rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his fingers, "Nor do I, but we must get back to the task at hand. Do you mind if I continue?"
The black dragoness groaned and shook her head helplessly, "Why not? You're the commander of this force, aren't you?"
"Thank you for remembering," he said with deadpan sarcasm.
"Thank you for asking," she replied equally.
Clearing his throat with a cough, Hunter looked over his shoulder and grabbed another set of maps and placed them on the ground between him and Cynder. He set the scrolls of Volteer's testimony carefully off to the side as he prepared the map on the grassy floor of the safekeep. Cynder looked down as he spread the map out, revealing it as a general map of the realms, its references not to scale or in great detail, but suited enough for general purposes. Most of the left side of the parchment taken up by the mainland with Warfang clearly illustrated by a small drawing of a stylized version of the city skyline. To the southwest was Avalar denoted by illustrations of mountains and forests as well as the outlying regions of the Enchanted Forest and the Shattered Veil that bordered the desolate wasteland that led to the Mountain of Malefor, shown by a frightening image of the gaping maw of its peak.
Far to the north-east of the Shattered Vale was an isolated region that was denoted by an image of a wall of crystals below a tall black tower with a cloud spitting lightning bolt above it. Before the war it had been the nearest dragon territory to the desolate lands of the Mountain of Malefor; a sparsely populated, virtual wasteland named Concurrent Skies. Dominated by far reaching, dense formations of crystals that covered virtually the whole region, Concurrent Skies had been a kind of scholars retreat and proving ground for Electric dragons in the days of old. A series of broody, black towers of stone and steel had been constructed there with massive spires that served to conduct lightning for various purposes. Outside of the Mountain of Malefor, Cynder couldn't think of a more unsettling place, the perpetual lightning storms and the general eeriness of the place made it hard to believe it had once been a place of learning and scholarship and not the foreboding lair for some unknown terror hiding in the shadows.
To the far, far north of Warfang were the artic plains and frigid sea that eventually led to Dante's Freezer, its lands suitably depicted in white with craggy black mountains with a small likeness of Perisher's Keep drawn on the coastline. To the east was the sea that took up most of the other side of the map, dotted across was where the other noteworthy realms were situated. Tall Plains was depicted in the lower top of the right-hand side by a single illustration of a high plateau covered by jungle trees with clouds surrounding them. It was there that Hunter placed his finger.
"When night comes, I will move out with our force and we will link up with Terrador to begin the assault on the Shrine by the morning, weather be damned," he said decisively, "When we do, Kane's fighters will carry out diversionary attacks all across Tall Plains to cause confusion and delay amongst the Apes. And while this is happening, you and Volteer will be long gone from here."
"Am I going with him?" asked Cynder shortly.
"Volteer does not have the strength to make the flight back to the Legion. We will make use of the gondola once more and I will detach an escort to protect him. But you, Cynder, will be taking another route."
"Well, what a surprise!" she mused mirthlessly. Hunter once more barely ignored her impertinence.
"You will leave at the same time and make your own way across the sea," he said as he traced his finger down across the map to an island that was almost in the center of the sea, "To here."
On its depiction was a domed stone roof and a stone balcony reaching out in front. Above it read the inscription "Dragon Temple." Cynder's expression became pale.
"Finbarr informed me that he carried out a reconnoitre of the temple while he was traveling with Terrador's force. No sign of activity, it appears the Apes have still left it abandoned. That will be your first navigation point and if this weather extends that far, it may be necessary for the two of you to wait out the storm there."
"Two?" the black dragoness asked in surprise.
"Yes," Hunter confirmed, "Along with my report is a request to Terrador that he allow Finbarr to accompany you. He will also carry a copy of Volteer's testimony. Two of you stand a better chance than one going alone."
Cynder let out a short chuckle of cynical humor, "And here I was thinking you just wanted someone to keep me company."
"It would be reckless for me to expect you carry out this task alone," he countered.
"How come?" she demanded sternly, "I've flown messages before on my own."
"Not over such a great distance and not while so far in enemy territory," Hunter countered again, "Besides, after what he and I went through three years ago, I know he's as fast a flyer as you are. The two of you can make good time and are less likely to be noticed."
Her intrusive thoughts wanted to argue, the thought of being alone being very selfishly appealing but Cynder stopped herself, afraid of what may happen if she was allowed to go alone.
"Alright," she said dully, "But I'd be very annoyed to have to fly all the way to Terrador only to have to come back," she remarked with a smirk.
"You're forgetting that was his job before all this," the Cheetah smirked equally, sighing greyly a moment later, "If circumstances allowed it, I would have sent you back with Flame and Ember."
Cynder suddenly had to catch a sharp breath as if she had felt a knife being pressed into her from behind. Her reaction did not go unnoticed, Hunter leaning inwards to her.
"I promise you, Cynder," he said earnestly, "After we have Volteer and Cyril back safely with us, I will proposition Terrador that we track down the Skavenger fleet and make proposals about mounting an operation against them. If they are back to their old habits, Flame and Ember may not be the only ones held captive by them."
"If they are, if they're even alive," the black dragoness replied brusquely as she looked down at the map to avoid his gaze. After several heavy breaths of emotion, she dared to lift her eyes towards him again, her gaze and heart softening as she saw the sincerity in the Cheetah's gaze.
"Thanks," Cynder said gratefully. Hunter nodded warmly before he rolled up the map and placed it back amongst the other scrolls, turning back to the black dragoness as soon as he did. He got up and walked the short steps over to her before he took a knee right in front of her, her emerald eyes watching him expectantly. She was a little surprised when he reached forward tucked his finger under her chin, lifting her head slightly as he rubbed his palm reassuringly under her head.
"Ignitus would be proud of all you have done, Cynder. You and Flame and Ember. Spyro would be proud of all of you too. Do never forget that, whatever may happen."
Her face lit up with warm sunshine as she gave him a wide grin, saying nothing but nodding in thanks to him. The gleam in her eyes made Hunter smile, his jade eyes softening before he sighed tiredly and released her from his thoughtful caress.
"I'd best be off to see Kane," he said flatly, taking the map off the ground before he rolled it back up and placed it with the rest of his belongings, "I hope he was not too difficult with you."
"No," Cynder replied with a light shrug, "He wasn't too bad. He gave some… interesting advice."
Hunter chuckled as he collected his satchel and the parchments, "I'm sure," he said as he slung the satchel over his shoulder, "I'll confer with you later. I'd get as much rest as you can."
"Sure," Cynder agreed shortly, readily. With that, Hunter leapt up and grabbed the edge of the winding path, pulling himself up and over with ease. Rather than walk his way up the spiral to the top, he swiftly and skillfully clambered up each spiral, sometimes jumping from one up to the next with barely a breath taken in-between. As he clambered and jumped out of view, Cynder was left alone by the fire, her attention drifting down to its crackling flames as the sunshine that had lit up her face moments before; a façade, drained away as surely as a snowball in spring.
She gloomily dropped her head onto the grass, holding it down with her front paws over her face as she groaned mournfully. At any other time, she would have been grateful for such encouraging words from Hunter, but instead it drove the stake of guilt further into her heart. What would he have said if he had known what she had thought, what she was thinking of doing? With a low exasperated growl, Cynder stood up and walked briskly away from the fire and through the archway that Finbarr had left through, shaking her head as though it may shake her thoughts of fleeing like she had shaken off the rain outside, but they remained like a tick burrowing under her skin. And where was that flute music coming from?
She wandered down the passage which was lined with more burning torches and ended at another stone archway, passing by more of the sand-colored clay pottery and vases made by the Atlawa residents. The continuing, sweeping melody of the flute that had played uninterrupted since her entering the main dome wafted up the passage like the inviting aroma of an unseen cooking pot bubbling away. She heard some of the same fluctuations and notes of earlier, suggesting a repeat performance by whomever was responsible. The passage opened up beyond the archway into another wide tunnel of the same bluish, rectangular stone blocks with grass and foliage growing between them, taking a slight curve to the left as more campfires came into view.
A group of mole-at arms were huddled around their own fire to the left, warming their hands as one member of the group let out the sneeze of a creature ten times his size that echoed throughout the safekeep, nearly blowing the fire out cold to the chagrin of his comrades. He had apparently fared worse than the others in the biting cold of Dante's Freezer and bought it with him to Tall Plains. Cynder passed by without saying hello, or even reacting to the enormity of the sneeze, too distracted with her own thoughts and the music.
She followed the trail of the music until it bought her out to the bottom of another spiral pathway beneath a domed chamber, and right at its center was the source of the music. Volteer was laying on his stomach, his enormous body pressed back against the wall of the lowest spiral while a single Atlawa member sat crossed legged in front of him, cradling in his arms a large pan flute, an instrument comprised of several varying lengths of bamboo bound together by tightly woven string. Its longest pipe was nearly half the body length of its player, the shortening of the other pipes giving it a shape like a hypotenuse triangle. As Cynder approached, she saw there was a gathering of a dozen or so Atlawa tribe members, mole at Arms and even a trio of Ice dragons of the Frostflyers sitting along the upper spirals and enjoying the performance.
Volteer was leaning his head back, his eyes closed contently as the Atlawa minstrel worked his mouth across the of pipes of his flute, his cheeks puffed up as he continually blew and played with well-practiced ease. Cynder worked her way slowly around the left side of the ring, feeling the music seep under her scales in a way that reminded her of the numbing effects of healing gems. She slowly and silently sat against the far wall, watching the rest of the performance with the others.
For those few minutes, her mind was swept like the wind as she closed her eyes and found herself drifting into her imagination, going back to every pleasant thought and emotion she had ever had before the world she had known her whole life came to a crashing halt. She imagined herself leaping from the great peaks of Tall Plains before spreading out her wings and gliding through the air like the Skiffter she had seen earlier, like she and her friends had done whenever they had visited this once tranquil place. Like when Spyro had awakened his Ice element…
Her mind shifted again; now she saw the snow-covered peaks of Dante's Freezer, the great white capped forests and hills of that wintery realm, the chilling winds following the pattern of the pan flute. A vision of a great frozen lake filled her mind, a giant frozen waterfall from a hardened mountain stream streaked from above like a snowball in mid-flight. From the top she saw herself, running and leaping from its edge, her wings carrying her in a gentle decent until her claws hit the ice. She slid on her haunches across the ice at first before skillfully hopping to her feet and skating across its surface on all fours, joining in with Spyro, Flame and Ember along with twenty or so of their classmates as they playfully flew, skated, and inevitably slipped on the icy playground as the Ice Guadian Cyril and their other mentors for the day supervised the leisure hour between lessons from the shore.
That is what Dante's Freezer had been to them, a winter wonderland with breathtaking landscapes and the fun of the snow. The ruins of Perisher's Keep were nothing more than a distant silhouette on the coast, a forbidden place which the young dragons told spooky stories about Trolls and whatever other monsters they imagined lurked within its walls.
None of them had been as terrifying as what she had really faced in their; not just the monstrous Ice King, but the ugly past of the original custodians of the fortress, the Perisher clan, the slave driving Ice supremists. That revelation had hit Ember the hardest, as was only to be expected. Fortunately for Cynder, her mind did not dwell long on it as the pan flute continued its soothing rhythm that was almost intoxicating to her senses. Now she saw in her mind the Dragon Temple, her old home, bathed in the orange glow of a sunset as four great dragons flew triumphantly over the top. Ignitus, Volteer, Cyril and Terrador, side by side, glorious and indominable. Below them on the temple's balcony she saw herself, alongside Flame, Ember and Spyro, all the age they were now and not their younger selves, staring up and watching their Guardians pass overhead in amazement. It wasn't a memory, merely an imaginative amalgamation of everything she longed to see; an end to the war, the restoration of peace, her closest companions by her side…
A whiteness like a cloud seemed to cross over the vision as the music came to a stop and the ambient sounds of the Atlawa safekeep bought her back to reality, her heart kicking and screaming at the thought as she regretfully lifted her eyelids.
"Marvelous! Beautiful! Wonderous! Glorious!" sang Volteer in praise, the assembled audience clapping and offering their own compliments to the Atlawen flute player as he modestly rose up from the grassy floor.
"Thank you, thank you," he said in a surprisingly gruff voice, clutching his pan flute close to his chest as he turned around to leave, the others in the audience doing the same. He paused when he noticed Cynder by the edge of the wall, the two meeting eyes the very next moment.
"Ah, Cynder!" Volteer exclaimed with surprise, "I did not realize you had joined us! Truly a wonderful display of musical talent, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, yes," she replied hesitantly, still coming out of her imagination as she smiled kindly to the Atlawa flautist. He stood and watched her for a moment with a curious expression before he walked over to her. His face was flat and showed little emotion as he looked down at his prized flute and patted it softly with his hand.
"You like music, yes?" he asked her bluntly, but not in an unfriendly way. The black dragoness raised a curious eyebrow as something about the Llama flautist seemed familiar.
"It was beautiful," she replied with a slight nod. Almost at once, the Atlawa male held out the instrument towards her as if inviting her to play.
"You want to buy?" he asked to her surprise, but in doing so confirmed her suspicions she knew him from somewhere.
"Uh, no thank you," she said with a raised paw, "What's your name?"
"Luggs," he replied gruffly, pulling the flute back into his chest, "You sure you don't want to buy?" he asked again.
"Luggs!" Cynder exclaimed as the answer finally came to her, "I remember now; you were in Warfang that day! My friends told me about you."
"Your friends? You mean red dragon with big nose and pink dragoness with big blue eyes?" he asked frankly. Cynder's eyes widened.
"Yes, Flame and Ember," she said slowly after a pause, "You remember them?"
"The red one buy a poncho off me. It looked ugly on him, but I say nothing," Luggs recalled with the closest approximation of a smile on his face. Cynder found herself giving a short chuckle in response before the inevitable pain in her heart resurfaced.
"That's right," she nodded solemnly, recalling how much the poncho had looked like a giant bib on him, how proud Flame seemed to be of his purchase, "It looked terrible on him…"
"Where are they?" Luggs asked swiftly, "Maybe they want to buy this?" he said again in reference to his pan flute.
"No, they're…" she began hesitantly. Right at that moment, Volteer stepped in to spare her heartache, walking in behind Luggs, who in turn rotated and looked up at the Electric Guardian.
"Thank you again for your performance, er, Luggs," he said gratefully, "But I'm afraid Cynder and I have some, er, important discussions to, erm, discuss."
Luggs pursed his lips as he looked between the two dragons, but shrugged his shoulders with a grunt and began strolling down the passage where Cynder had come from, playfully blowing off a few notes on his flute as he went on his way. As he left, Volteer settled down on his belly again with his front paws and body facing towards the black dragoness. As Luggs disappeared down the tunnel, he gazed down on her with sympathetic eyes as she mirrored his pose.
"I'm surprised he was so quick to try and sell his prized flute to me," Cyner remarked dryly.
"Prized?" Volteer snorted lightly, "My dear Cynder, he could sell that today and have another one made before dawn. He was not just entertaining us; he was advertising to potential future customers!"
"Guess he still has to make a living," she mused as they both looked off to where Tuggs had gone, his now jaunty tune echoing back to them. Volteer began humming to it as Cynder looked back up at him.
"How are you feeling, Volteer?" she asked softly. The yellow dragon continued humming, oblivious to her show of concern.
"Volteer?" she asked more sternly.
"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry," he blushed as he looked back at her, "Well, I am, well, er, as well as can be expected, I suppose," he muttered dimly.
"I know the feeling," the black dragoness said dully.
"I trust Hunter has already spoken to you about what is soon to happen?" he asked hesitantly.
"He has," she nodded shortly, "Looks like I'll be missing all the fun again."
A clinking sound from behind caught her attention as Cynder leaned around to look behind Volteer, seeing something previously hidden from view. Beside where he had been laying and behind the campfire in the grass, she saw the misty, silver husks of several exhausted Spirit Gems thrown together in a pile. Volteer looked around towards it and sighed heavily.
"The Atlawa gave me all they could spare," he said lowly, "But even after all that I cannot summon even a spark! My ordeal has left me powerless, worthless, impotent, useless…"
Volteer went on to exclaim several other words that may as well have been in another language, Cynder only half listening as he vented his frustrations. Finally, he said something legible as he crossed his front paws over pensively.
"To be left feeling so unable to contribute is aggravating to the extreme!"
"You did well alongside us, Volteer," Cynder encouraged him warmly, "Without a spark you still helped us fight our way out of that Keep."
"You are most kind, young dragoness," he responded in kind to her, "But just as you, I feel I should have done more, especially in the light of what had become of our dear friends, Flame and Ember! Oh, I am sorry…"
"Please," she said in a strained voice, "Just… don't talk about it." Volteer nodded understandably, giving himself a moment to settle as well as a moment to Cynder as he sighed thoughtfully.
"I can only hope that my powers have not been depleted permanently. But I can only expect that poor, insufferable Cyril will be in the same condition as I. I wonder how he will still try to 'put one over me,' as they say."
Cynder just tried to look thoughtful and said nothing, not wanting to raise her doubts that Cyril was even in Tall Plains after he had agreed not to mention Flame and Ember, at least not again. But as she lay on the grass, the question of what was the purpose behind the sapping of the two Guardian's powers lingered, for Cynder could not help but notice that Hunter had not elaborated on any of the theories he and Volteer had apparently discussed. Theories that were apparently apart of the information she was expected to deliver to the Legion in case none of them survived to make the journey themselves. With she herself doubting her own dedication, Cynder felt more than ever the need to know why her role was so important. A curious frown darkened the brow of the black dragoness.
"Volteer…" she began slowly.
"Cynder?" he replied formally with a large smile.
"What do you think the crystal is for?" she asked straight away.
"Crystal?"
"The one Gaul used on you," she explained bluntly, "You and Cyril. If he just wanted to disempower you, he could have used the same magic he used on all of us in Warfang. Why do you think he wants to harness the power of the Guardians?"
Volteer's smile was quickly sewn up, his eyes seeming to fidget away from her as Cynder awaited his reply. He seemed to have become uncomfortable straight away, his tail sweeping the grass behind him heavily.
"I….er, stipulated many suggestions," Volteer mumbled as he avoided her gaze, "Who's to say which, if any of them is right with the limited information we have so far?"
"But you must think some ideas are more likely than others," she pushed back impatiently, "What do you think its main purpose is?"
Volteer once again stalled, "I do not think it would be a good idea to discuss that right now. We have more immediate concerns."
"When is there going to be a better time?" Cynder asked with rising tension in her voice, "We don't know what might happen tomorrow. I might not get a chance to ask."
"And tomorrow we may have Cyril back with us," the Guardian dragon countered civilly, "And perhaps then we will have a better understanding of the situation…"
Unable to stomach the obvious stalling, the black dragoness sparing onto her feet with a desperate start.
"Volteer, please!" she begged harshly, "Why are you stalling me? If your theories are worth risking my life over, I should know why! Why won't you tell me?"
"Cynder!" Volteer scowled indignantly, "You must show caution with how you speak! These are sensitive matters that could affect the course of our fight against the Apes. There is a time and a place for such matters, of which this is neither the time or place for."
The young dragoness froze, seeing the curious glances of the other dwellers of the safekeep in the edge of her vision as they heard the commotion. At any other time, she would have felt embarrassed, but now she only felt angry that she had been rebuked.
"Now," Volteer declared as he rose to his feet, "I feel it is time I should be returning to Hunter and you should be attempting to acquire sufficient slumber, young Cynder," he said insistently.
"Yes, sir. My apologies, sir," she replied bitingly, sulkily, turning her back on him and flopping herself down, burying her eyes into the stone wall. As she folded her wings down, Volteer's head appeared at her side as he nudged her with his nose.
"If you wouldn't mind, I think it would be best if we remain in the same vicinity," he said firmly, making it clear it was not a suggestion. With a flustered groan, Cynder stood up and moodily eyed the Electric Guardian as he beckoned her onward towards the passageway. Scowling crossly, she began to stroll forward as Volteer walked alongside her, deliberately no faster than her as though the keep an eye on her. As they entered the tunnel, her eyes remained stiffly ahead as she shuffled along the right side of the great yellow and blue dragon, the voice in her head telling her to stay becoming dimmer and dimmer all the time.
Suddenly, about halfway down the tunnel, Volteer put his wing out in front to block her path, Cynder pulling to a halt as the Guardian moved around in front of her, his eyes simmering with a strange kind of reluctance. Cynder then realized they were on the curve of the tunnel, just out of sight from both ends with a flaming torch on either side of them.
"Cynder," Volteer whispered, "Hunter would not want me to tell you this, but since we are expecting you to take such a risk, I will concede, partially, to your request."
Cynder's eyes brightened, her downer look subsiding as he lowered himself to her level, cautiously looking front and back as he drew a breath in his toothy maw.
"The most probable scenario that I can fathom," he said in a low voice, "Is that Gaul wishes to harness the Guardian's power for his plan to resurrect Malefor. How he would use our powers I cannot say, but the crystal that he used was not like any I have seen before. To be able to contain the deeply woven, spirit binding power of not one, but two Guardian dragons in a single crystal is…. unsettling."
Cynder continued to look surprised, but what he had to say only bought more questions, most apparent being the seemingly obvious flaw in his theory, or rather that of Gaul.
"But if that's true," she remarked unsurely, "If Gaul is trying to use the Guardian's powers… Well, however he wants to use it cannot work, right? He doesn't have Terrador's power, and he can't take Ignitus's power because…well…"
She did not finish and she did not need to as Volteer nodded understandably.
"We cannot say for sure that he did not claim Ignitus's power before he died, though it seems unlikely since we know he fell to the hand of the Masked Assassin. If not, I suspect he would have been a prisoner as I was and heaven only knows where."
"Forgive me, Volteer," Cynder said warily, "But this knowledge makes all of this seem… less urgent. If Gaul needed the power of all four Guardians, then his plan has already failed, hasn't it?"
"He will not give up if just one plan fails," Volteer remarked seriously, "We cannot underestimate him. There may be other paths he can take to achieve the same goal that we simply do not know."
The Electric Guardian took another cautionary glance around and then, with a sigh of finality, rose back to his own height.
"Now, as I said, Hunter would not want me to tell you any of this, but that is all I am willing to say, do you understand? You now know why it is important you bring those parchments to the Legion, correct?"
Cynder at first didn't react, staring up at Volteer blankly, provoking a concerned look from him. Then, slowly and silently, the black dragoness nodded, still seeming to not really be looking at him.
"Cynder?" Volteer asked curiously, cautiously.
"Yes, I understand," she replied simply, her eyes diverting to the nearby torch as it flickered in their emerald glaze, "I know why. And I know what I have to do."
Meanwhile, onboard the Fellmuth…
Never in their lives had Flame and Ember tasted anything so disgusting, but the only thing worse than the mucky, slime like stew that the Skavengers fed them was having to pull the trolley it came from. This had been the primary 'menial duty' as described by the pompous orange parrot-monkey Scratch of which the pair had been performing since they had been bound together by the wicked snake collars. The two young dragons were strapped in harnesses side by side like mules, tied to the wooden, box like trolley that squeaked along the ships corridors with barely rounded wooden wheels. Sloshing behind them was a large, black stew pot with its barely edible contents bubbling and frothing like an unholy brew stirred by a witch. Pots and cooking utensils rattled from hooks on the sides of the cart, adding to the already nauseating sound of the squeaky wheels.
"Hurry it up you scaly, scurvy dogs!" snarled one of the pair of Skavenger pirates that both kept the two dragons in line and served up the stew to the other unfortunate souls who had been captured. At the head of the trolley, Flame was on the left, sporting a blackened left eye, and Ember was on the right, both grimacing as they struggled to pull the trolley down the wooden corridor, the contents of the pot spilling over the edge as it rocked, sometimes splashing onto them. One of the pirates, with a pegleg on his right side, clopped along beside them with a cutlass in hand as his shipmate, wearing an eyepatch, pushed the cart from behind with both feet still attached. Since arriving onboard the Fellmuth, Flame and Ember had become aware of the large extent of the Skavengers activities in the realm if the variety in the other prisoners was anything to go by.
Whether it was seeing the sorry faces in each cell as they pulled the stew trolley along or from inside their own cell when food was bought to them, they had seen quite the melting pot. There were moles on board, some being members of the Legion, others were mole citizens from Warfang or the outlying villages. They had seen Atlawa members too, and so it seemed, examples of almost every remotely dangerous wild creature that could be found all over the realms. Bulb spiders, Frogweeds, Wild Deathhounds, even Giant snails in one of the cells. Flame and Ember had seen some of the other prisoners and creatures be taken from their cells to be used in the arena that they had yet to see for themselves. Some they had seen again, battered and bruised after surviving their turn in the arena, others they had not. So far, it appeared they were the only dragons onboard, a fact that did not bode well for them.
The wide corridor of the ship, one of several, formed a gradual curve as it stretched onward, marked by the same repeating sequence of holding cells with their tall archways and teeth like vertical gates, one usually set directly across from another. Each cell had a lever outside for opening and closing and a lever at the end of each hall that could open or close all the cells at once. Naturally there was always a guard at the end of each corridor as a result. The red carpet that followed the curve in the hall was worn and baggy with glass lanterns hung from either the walls or the supporting framework of the ceiling to light the way. The smell was as bad as the stew and lack of ventilation made it unbearably humid. They had just finished delivering stew to the prisoners of the starboard corridor and now were to do the same for the portside. They had done the same the previous day for the deck their own cell was on, but today were being made to work a different deck with a new set of sorry faces to haunt them.
To their left was the locked exit gate to the other decks, marked by a wide entranceway up a short flight of three very long and shallow steps which they'd had to pull the cart down earlier under threat of death is the trolley toppled over. Luckily, they had been careful enough to avoid it. As Flame and Ember strained past the exit, the mystical snake collars, which often turned invisible after a time, flashed back into being, seemingly in response to their exertion. The double loop around their necks and the downward heads of the snakes glowed a luminesce green with the shimmering ethereal chain connecting the two mouths. Though the collars felt almost completely weightless, the eyes always glowed red and the two dragons were left feeling almost constantly dehydrated owing to the draining effect the collars had on them. Each step felt like it was done up a steep incline and never had their own wings felt so heavy.
"Al'right, 'old up," said the pegleg pirate dog boredly as they crossed over to the first two cell doors. Flame and Ember both ground to a halt, heads low and panting as they shuffled uncomfortably in the binding harnesses, the ethereal chain still sparking between them. They were not allowed to speak and had learned quickly not to try the pirates on that, this being the cause of the red dragon's black eye, pummeled by the hilt of a cutlass. The pegleg pirate slipped his cutlass into its scabbard and turned around to his shipmate at the rear of the trolley.
"Change places then, eh?" he asked.
"Aye," grunted the other.
Flame could feel Ember shaking next to him, her harness rustling as the red dragon turned his head and saw her looking down at the floor, her body quivering as she looked close to tears. He swallowed hard, looking out of the corner of his black eye to be sure the two Skavengers didn't see him as they changed places.
"Ember," he said softly. The sound of his voice caught her by surprise as her head shot up, her glossy aqua eyes shifting to him. He couldn't put on a smile, but he did shift his right paw over until it half rested on top of her left, Flame able to feel how cold with fear she was through the single touch.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Don't talk," she whispered back sharply, "You'll just get hurt again."
Flame sighed lowly, the mere mention making his black eye twitch as the two pirates shuffled around each other. The one eyed Skavenger moved around to the cell door to the right of them and stood by the lever to open it while the one-legged Skavenger scooped a bowlful of the putrid stew from the side of the trolley. Flame and Ember both stood still and silent, looking straight ahead, not at each other or at whatever poor wretch was in the cells beside them. As the pegleg Skavenger clopped around towards the door, his pegleg caught a dent in the floor and snagged him. The result was the two young dragons seeing him lurch forward as if he had been kicked in the back, crashing down hard with the bowl of stew splashing into the face of his shipmate.
"Oi, watch it ya blasted bilge rat!" snarled the patch wearing pirate as he swiped of the offending goo, "This 'ere's me favorite shirt!"
"Me leg got caught up!" retorted the second one hotly as he struggled to stand up, "Wha' do you care, anyhow! It's not even your shirt! Ya stole it off Aratev!"
"Aye, an' now its ruined!"
One eye thew the first punch, striking Pegleg in the jaw and rolling both eyes in his head. Flame and Ember pulled themselves back against the trolley as the two Skavengers locked themselves into a brawl, punching back and forth in front of the two dragons. Pegleg swung his wooden leg up and caught One Eye in the shin, the canine howling in pain and clutching his shin before he delivered a swift uppercut back to Pegleg's chin, spinning and staggering him back before One eye leapt onto him. The melee continued on the floor amid cries of "Blaggard!" and every other insult heard and unheard before, the pair eventually battering and rolling their way around the other side of the trolley and out of view of the startled, slightly bemused young dragons. From both ends of the corridor came the running steps of the other two Skavengers meant to guard the cells, the nearest running past Flame and Ember as the fight carried on behind them. Whether they were there to break it up or join in was anyone's guess.
"Flame!" Ember hissed, drawing his attention back as she hurriedly looked over the harnesses binding them to the trolley, "Come on, now's our chance!"
"What are you talking about?" he hissed back.
"To get out of here! Help me with this thing!" she cried as he began pulling and biting at the harness.
"Don't be crazy!" he growled, "We can't fight with these snakes on, we wouldn't make it five steps! They'll be back any second!"
Ember glared at him frostily, "Don't tell me your scared now! I thought you wanted to be a hero?" she said mockingly, boiling Flame's blood in an instant.
"What's that supposed to mean? You think I see this as a game? We have to be smart about this!"
"At least I'm trying something!" spat Ember. Suddenly, the voice of an unknown other interrupted the squabble.
"You shouldn't try to hide your fear with anger," it said with mild amusement, "Especially when you do it so poorly."
The anger between Flame and Ember vanished in an instant as surprised intrigue took its place as the pair both looked to the source of the voice; the dark cell to the right of them. The red dragon moved himself around for a better view, forcing the pink dragoness to pull back to give him room as they both stared into the cell. In the hovering darkness they made out a squatted silhouette that stood up and turned towards them, a tall bipedal silhouette with a voice that was familiar to them. As the brawling and shouting went on in the hall behind them, the figure approached the barred gate of the cell, a pair of white furred paws grasping the teeth like barrier as a pair of greenish grey eyes came into view within a face of orange fur. As the light in the hall filtered through the bars of the gate, the two young dragons stood and gasped at the feline face that peered back at them.
"Prowlus?" they said in tandem, the once proud leader of Hunter's former tribe staring back at them dully, looking as unimpressed by their presence here as he had whenever they had visited Avalar. The orange furred Cheetah warrior pulled himself against the gate as he looked between the two young dragons staring at him in stunned silence. Neither parties had seen each other since the day they had escaped from the Mountain of Malefor and rescued Meadow the herbalist, the day Prowlus had barred the dragons from entering Avalar's territory. A partially healed slash of red cut across the right side of the bridge of the Cheetah's nose and his decorative red cloak was nowhere to be been. In its place over his brown tunic was a torn and dirty cloak of dark green, blotched with dirt and loose leaves as a form of camouflage. His arms and feet were missing the leather guards that he, like Hunter, had always worn, likely stolen by the Skavengers just like Ember's gold choker.
"Still alive then, I see," Prowlus remarked without emotion, "And I see you also ran afoul of these wretched airborne buccaneers."
"How long have you been here?" Flame asked as the furious brawl between the pirates went on as though they hadn't noticed it.
"Two weeks today, along with twelve others of my party," he said as they saw the faces of three other Cheetahs stepping into the light behind Prowlus, "There are only nine of us now," he remarked sorely, nodding up the hall to indicate the other cells they had yet to reach, "I assume you have not been here long?"
"Long enough!" Ember snapped tensely, "What were you stealing when you got caught?
"Yeah," Flame concurred, "Surprised they didn't let you join their crew. No honor amongst thieves then, I guess."
Although Flame and Ember had not had any personal encounters with Prowlus and his loyalists since the tribe had fractured, other members of the Legion had and their stories along with those coming out of the occupied territories had sealed their opinion of them. After the fall of Warfang, Hunter had returned to Avalar in the hopes of convincing his tribe to join the fight against the Apes, but Prowlus had refused to throw his lot in with the dragons and wanted to take the tribe out of the valleys in hopes of finding refuge from the conflict. After a bitter debate that nearly came to bloodshed, Hunter had been able to convince around half the tribe to join him whilst the remainder had chosen to remain with Prowlus.
Refusing to align with any side, Prowlus and his loyalists had lowered themselves to becoming nothing more than common bandits, stealing food and supplies from wherever they could find it. Whether this was Ape supply convoys, helpless travelers, villagers or farmers, including those who had most of their food taken already to feed the ravenous Ape Army, it mattered not. The Legion often counted on the assistance of those who lived outside Warfang for information or supplies, but many times Prowlus and his followers had stolen supplies meant for the Legion, whether they knew it or not.
"When we steal to survive, we are bandits. But when you steal to survive, it's all for the greater good, I suppose," the orange Cheetah sneered sardonically.
"We don't steal from our own people!" Flame shot back, "They are who we fight for!"
Prowlus made a scoffing chuckle as he shook his head, "You may have grown some, but you still act like children. You should have stayed home, young dragons. War is no place for children."
"You should have helped us when this war started!" Ember growled, "Or did you think the Apes wouldn't come for Avalar too?"
"It was your foolish escapade that bought this war on us!" Prowlus snapped, "Going after that reckless friend of yours, Spyro! Trying to prove what a big hero he was!"
"Spyro was a hero!" Flame cried angrily, not caring if the whole ship heard it, "Did you forget he went to save Meadow, one of your own?"
"And how many have died since then?" Prowlus asked frankly, "Including your own supposed savior? What good was he in the end when Spyro couldn't save himself?"
"How dare you…" Ember hissed through her teeth, making to step towards the door before Flame quickly reached out and grabbed her foreleg in his paw.
"Hold it, Ember," he said regretfully, "I don't like him either, but Prowlus might be able to help us."
"We don't need help from a thief!" Ember said disdainfully. Before any of them could speak again, a familiar and unsettling CLACK-CLINK CLACK-CLINK echoed from behind, Flame and Ember forgetting Prowlus and peering around the trolley. The brawling pirates heard the sound too and, bruised, bloodied and halfway through delivering punches, pulled themselves apart as they heard Skabb approaching. They heard Skabb's angry, inarticulate grunts coming from behind the gate at the entrance to the deck, one of the Skavengers running to unlock it.
"Like I said," Prowlus said in a harsh whisper, "The anger doesn't hide your fear, Ember. But then I suppose you still can't see what's right beside you, either," he said with a knowing glance at Flame before the Cheetah stepped back from the door and sat back in the shadows.
"What did he say?" Ember asked curtly as she turned to the red dragon. Flame buttoned his mouth and just shook his head, pretending he hadn't heard, but in his heart he knew exactly what the Cheetah had meant. Even now it was still that obvious and she was still just as oblivious.
Pegleg and OneEye, after sharing a poisonous glare, limped back towards the trolley as Flame and Ember both ducked back into place, pretending they hadn't moved as they heard Skabb stomping down the steps and onto the floor.
"Bring them here!" they heard the voice of Scratch as the two pirates appeared beside the two dragons and began to unfasten their harnesses. Flame and Ember glanced at each other nervously as the pirates drew their cutlasses as they pulled the harnesses off them, the second pair of Skavengers walking up with swords in hand as well. The four dog faced scoundrels then walked the two dragons back down the corridor as they finally saw Skabb waiting at the bottom of the last step, the snobbery voiced orange parrot-monkey Scratch on his left shoulder and the brutish mannered fandango parrot-monkey Sniff riding on his back. Skabb himself stared mindlessly with a permanently stupefied look with his arms barely lifted like those of a hanging marionette puppet, his long tongue dangling out of his mouth. The two dragons were escorted up to him, the lordly orange parrot stretching his beak out as he eyed the pair vainly.
"I trust your working conditions are acceptable?" he asked mockingly.
"I don't know," Ember shot straight back, "The food could definitely be better."
"SQUAWK!" came the sudden bellow from Sniff, the only bird-like sound that Flame and Ember had heard from either of them since their capture, "You watch your tongue, fool, or you might just lose it!" he flapped aggravatedly. Skabb, taking the remark as an order, gave his usual grunt and nod as he promptly thrust his enormous cutlass forward, its tip aimed towards the pink dragoness, causing her to gasp in fright as Flame tried to move in front of her protectively.
"Steady on, Captain, steady on," Scratch said calmly as he tapped his foot on the giant Skavenger's shoulder, "My brother was merely giving a fair warning."
Skabb grunted and nodded again, pulling his sword back as Ember caught her breath, staring awkwardly at Flame as he remained crossed over in front of her.
"Alas, we have a problem," continued Scratch, "One of our scouting parties has just reported back and it seems our search for our main attraction has ended sooner than expected."
"Main attraction?" Flame queried with grim sarcasm, "I'm guessing you don't mean a fireworks show?"
"If I were you," snapped Sniff, "I'd shut my mouth! I ain't goin'to say it again!"
"Yeah, maybe," Ember said quietly to Flame as he looked at her and slowly stepped back beside her.
"Yes, mind yourself," agreed Scratch warningly, "To answer your question; no, it was not a fireworks show. Our scouts were searching for Arborik, a creature that dwells in the forests of the Ancient Grove, something we tried to capture once before. That is, before you dragons drove us away all those years ago," he said loathingly.
"Gosh, we really feel bad about that," Ember replied sneeringly, flinching as one of the pirates threateningly edged his sword closer to her.
"They found what was left of him near a swamp outside the Grove," Scratch continued dismally, "A decaying carcass of splinters and vines! He was supposed to be the main attraction of our tournament! Now it's ruined..."
"Bummer," Flame said dryly, "I'm sure everyone here was really looking forward to that," he finished as he slowly looked around at the menacing expressions of all the assembled pirates. Scratch's face suddenly brightened as he wriggled with devious delight.
"Oh, really no need for remorse," he said cunningly, "This means there is an even greater champion somewhere out there if it could defeat a beast like Arborik! We shall keep searching for this mystery prize. But in the meantime, the show must go on! You two will do just fine..."
End of Chapter 14
Next Chapter: Fellmuth Arena
Note from the author:
I hope you have all had a very Merry Christmas and holidays and I thank you all for reading my story. Unfortunately I have to deliver some unpleasant news concerning the future of this story.
This will be the last chapter of 2024 and the last for a few months I expect due to a number of personnel issues that have been affecting me. As of now, I have completed the story up to chapter 22, which I finished at the end of September. However, I was experiencing severe burnout and decided to take a break from writing, only for a number of other things to go wrong for me. I ended up in hospital for a kidney stone, my dog became increasingly ill which resulted in me having to put him to sleep not long ago, and at the same time my Dad's health has also worsened and is a constant worry.
The result of all this is that my creative energy has been completely sapped and I have not done any serious writing since the end of September. I am trying to get back on track but mentally I'm just not yet back in that space where I could write at the pace I had been for months. I want to try and catch up and maybe rework some of my already completed chapters before I begin posting regularly again. I'm sorry for the delays that will follow and I hope you will still be here when I do get back into it.
Merry Christmas once again and a Happy New Year.