AN:

By the way, if you're wondering about the disparity between the chapter titles here and the official ones, that's just me having fun with Google Translate.

Review Replies:

Sigma669: Bro, how cooked do you want Xavier to be? It wouldn't be a fight — it would be a smackdown. I'm talking "Vegeta vs Perfect Cell"-level smackdown.

...Then again, that might not remain the case forever, if you catch my drift.

Dr. Kocktor: Look, some things have to be learned the hard way.

Sir MountCastle: Seeing my 300% original take on a magic system being compared to other media makes me want to shed tears, but yes, you are correct, even if the similarities are coincidental. It's been a looong time since I've consumed Star Wars media. And yes, the dragons and other magical creatures are ""radioactive."" I felt it was fitting given the lore of dragons returning to their element once they pass on.

Dragons with thumbs is my headcanon. Seriously, how are you supposed to do anything without thumbs? Dragons' daily lives would be a headache if they wanted to do anything that required finesse.

Yes, HTTYD and other fictional stories involving dragons exist in this world. Only Spyro games don't. That way, I don't have to deal with the existential crisis subplot of Spyro and Cynder learning they're nothing but the figment of someone's imagination. They also won't be subjected unfortunate art of them, which is the main motivation for this decision.

Your suggestions are interesting. I'll see what I can do. There's always the internet for music, and while they don't own books (Xavier collets manga and comics, but that's another story), there's always the library. The problem is that I'll have to read the books the dragons will be reacting to so the reactions can be authentic. I'll make it work somehow.

Thanks for the words of encouragement! I don't plan on my momentum stopping anytime soon!

GrimlockX4: Looks like I'm not escaping the Foowd allegations, haha. My main source of inspiration was TheChase88's take on this premise, but I might have to check this Foowd fellow out if people keep mentioning him.

What can I say? The Bible is based.

Austin: I'mma say it. It's very unlikely that it'll happen. But if it does, it's happening in a parallel universe, AKA in her dreams.

I mean, I'm sure they could handle round door knobs. They just have to... They could just do the... Huh.

What? Gaul or Malefor? I h-have no idea where you could have gotten such a silly idea!

Cécile may be a gremlin, but she's a classy gremlin. She wouldn't stoop so low. She might be curious if she sees something sticking out on either dragon's face, though.

I do need to expose the dragons to more of our technology and entertainment stuff. That strategy game suggestion is so badass, but I have exactly zero hours of playtime with war simulator games. Oof. A Christmas omake sounds nice. Time to get into the spirit of capitalism!

You seem keen on Spyro and Cynder spending quality time with each other, but that, my dear reader, depends on whether my beta-reader can convince me to do it.

Hehe. Don't worry, I'll be cooking plenty more.

Linkuser2: I think the story would get ridiculous if my protagonists started changing their hair colour on a dime. It would be funny, though. It's unclear for now, but if our protagonists could unlock magic, the floodgates of shenanigans that would open might shatter the balance of the world.

Dragon Cécile would be a Soulsborne boss.

What can I say? I mean, I could say "The Bible is based", but I've already said. I need to be original. So, uh... Hmmm... Ehhhh... Yeah, I can't think of anything witty. But if I did, I'm sure it would've been funny.

Chapter 5 - Domestic Dragons Chez Nous

...

When Cécile came home from her kickboxing class, she found her brother lying in wait at the foot of the stairs that led into the living room. She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for my trap to be sprung," he whispered. "Now drop your voice down, or else you'll ruin everything."

"What trap?" Cécile gave the living room a cursory stare. The couch that was usually across the TV had been moved to the side and angled to give a clear view of the room from her vantage point. Moreover, a sizable box rested in the middle of the room, big enough for Spyro or Cynder to fit inside if they wanted to. "All I see is a box. Did you put something inside?"

Xavier chuckled. "No. The box is the trap. I got curious and wanted to see how the dragons would react to it."

Cécile's eyes lit up, and she hunkered down next to Xavier. "You thought of this experiment without me? That's surprisingly brilliant. You must be an impostor." She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. And I trapped the real Xavier in alternate dimension," he said with a roll of his eyes. He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, you reek of sweat. Go take a shower!"

"And miss out on this experiment? No way."

Xavier was about to retort when the sounds of approaching pawsteps reached them. He groaned. "Alright, fine. But try not to give us away with your stench."

Cécile huffed but gave no rebuttal.

"Huh? Who rearranged the living room?" asked Cynder's voice.

The black dragoness came into view. Just as expected, she noticed the box and headed toward it. She studied it with a curious eye. "And who left this strange container lying around?" After observing it from all sides, Cynder sniffed and prodded it with her snout and claws respectively. The box was an inch or two shorter than her. She propped her forepaws on the edge and reared up to peer inside. However, this caused the box to tip over and hit her on the snout. Hissing, Cynder backpedalled and rubbed her snout, glaring at the box that was now lying on its side.

Cynder crouched into a wary stance and examined the box once more. Cécile wondered what was going on through the dragoness' head as it happened. The situation that played out felt like a wild animal trying to make sense of a foreign object, which was not what she expected from Cynder's usual level-headedness. Maybe dragons had some mental switch that separated their feral and rational side?

Eventually, the black dragoness walked into the box. Using her body, she made the box rotate onto its right side. There was some invisible shuffling inside before a purr rang out from the box. "Not half bad. It's cozy in here."

"Did you hear that?" Cécile whispered, excited. "This is a monumental discovery!"

"I wouldn't call it monumental, but the results certainly are interesting. I'll need to do more sampling with Spyro."

"Cynder? What are you doing?" Spyro's voice asked.

Xavier gave a troubled expression. "Oh no. This was not in my calculations," he said, chuckling nervously.

Cécile smirked. "This is going to be good..."

A blush painted Cynder's cheeks as the purple dragon, who had walked into view, regarded her with a curious gaze. "Oh, you know, nothing. I'm just...chilling."

"Chilling, huh?" He cocked his head, a hint of amusement on his face. "Inside that strange container?"

"Don't you judge me," she snapped, fangs bared.

Spyro raised his paw placatingly. "I wasn't, I promise." Setting it back aground, he smirked. "So, may I hop in?"

Cynder's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"It looks reeeaally comfy in there. I've got to try it out, just to be sure."

Cynder hunkered down, hissing. "I found it first. Go get your own container!"

"Come on, Cyn. Pleeeeaaase?" He stared at her like a sad, pitiful, puppy would beg for a scrap of food.

Hesitation flashed through her eyes. She wrenched them away from the sight. "No! Stop that."

Spyro gloomed. "I see how it is. You would choose an item over me, your friend!" He walked a ways away and sulked, weeping quietly.

Cynder looked heartbroken. She climbed out of the box and walked toward the purple dragon. "Look, Spyro, I-I didn't mean it like that. Your friendship is precious to me, and—"

Spyro rushed past her and scrambled into the box. He shuffled around for a bit before settling with a content sigh. "Oh yeah, it's nice in here."

Cynder whipped her head back at him. Her maw hung agape, her expression a mix of outrage and befuddlement. It soon twisted into pure rage. "YOU DORK! You tricked me!" She stamped the ground, body trembling with anger.

"If you want to blame somebody, blame Sparx. His acting skills rubbed off on me."

She stormed over and tried to push him outside the box. "Move it! Get out! RRRGH!" Unfortunately, Spyro barely budged.

He gave a smarmy smile. "Calm down, Cyn. I'll be out in a bit. Just let me enjoy this."

The black dragoness gnashed her fangs. Cécile could have sworn she saw smoke puffing from either side of her head. "No way! If I can't have it..." She crouched, then leapt, slashing through the box. She stuck landing past it and returned to a neutral stance. "Then no one can."

Spyro had flinched when Cynder jumped at him. He opened his eyes and patted his body with his paws. He laughed nervously. "I-I'm fine. Looks like you missed," he said, craning his neck behind him toward Cynder.

"Think again, purple dork."

As if on cue, the sides of the box fell apart, having been cut into thin strands of cardboard. Spyro watched, horrified, as the millions of pieces hit the ground. "No, this can't be..." He grabbed pawfuls of strands and pressed them to his chest, a desperate attempt to recreate the comfort the box had given him. Ultimately, it was useless.

Into the heavens, Spyro wailed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Cécile turned to Xavier, grinning goofily with eyes as bright as shining diamonds. "That. Was. Amazing."

He shrugged. "Eh."

She slapped his arm. I don't buy that nonchalant shrug for a second. You've got amusement written all over you!

After consoling Spyro and taking a shower, Cécile knocked on the door to Xavier's room.

"Come in!"

She let herself in. The room was spacious. Xavier needed it, or else he wouldn't have the space to store all the manga volumes and comics he collected. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with the aforementioned reading appliances. His bed was in the corner of the room, next to which was Xavier, who was sitting at his desk, typing away at his computer with occasional downward glances at his notebook.

He looked at her when she entered, and his face dropped flat. "Oh. Never mind, you can get out."

"Hmph." She closed the door behind her and sat on his bed, checking out what he was writing on the screen. "You've been studying the dragons for a while, right?"

"Yeah, but why does it interest you?"

"Because I require your knowledge."

Xavier paused in his typing, turned his chair around, and raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head somewhere? Do you have a fever? We should check your temperature, just to be sure."

"Don't give me that crap." Cécile crossed her arms. "If it's about Spyro and Cynder, I'll brave any danger, even if it means putting up with you."

Xavier analyzed her with a cursory eye. "I see. And what is the knowledge you seek, young padawan?"

"I need to know if the dragons are more like cats or dogs."

Xavier frowned, confused. "That's what you want to know? And here I thought you were looking for fun facts about their behaviour." He grabbed his notebook and flipped through its pages. "For example, did you know they like sunbathing? Or that they're double-jointed? Cynder even showed how she could stand up on her hind legs for a short bit. They've got a surprising range of motion for quadrupeds."

Cécile tried not to let her eyes light up. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. "That knowledge is superficial. What if someone wants to own a pet dragon? They'd need to know what to look out for."

"And your method of informing them would be to compare dragons, mythical creatures of legend, to cats and dogs, mundane pets?"

"You say that like the comparison is impossible." Cécile started counting on her fingers. "Exhibit A: Cynder's hatred of baths. Exhibit B: The dragons' love for pets and belly rubs. Exhibit C: The box incident."

He waved his hand. "Alright, I get your point. Still, two dragons are too small to be a proper sample size. What if their behaviour is just a byproduct of their personalities, and we're ascribing patterns where there aren't any?"

Cécile frowned. She hated it when he made sense. I can't give up here. If my thesis is right, there has to be a way to prove it. Her face scrunched up in concentration.

She gasped. That's it! "Have you tried the cucumber test?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Really? The cucumber test? On dragons? You're grasping for straws."

"Am not!" she snapped, pouting. "Just watch me!"

She stood up, grabbed Xavier's hand, and yanked him to come with her. He screamed and complained about her dislocating his arm. Still, he followed her without further coercion into the kitchen, where she fetched a cucumber and brandished it with a smirk. "Alright! Operation Cucumber" — she put her index on her lips and dropped her voice to a whisper — "is a go. Follow me."

Xavier sighed as Cécile sneaked toward the staircase. The last time she saw them, they were right down there...

As expected, she saw Spyro and Cynder lounging on the carpet as she discreetly peered down the stairs. Lucky for her, they were facing away from her. Humming the theme song to Mission Impossible, she stealthily made her way down to the basement and planted the cucumber behind them before retreating. Xavier was waiting up the stairs for her, his arms crossed to his chest.

Cécile grabbed a sandal off of her foot and gave one last look back at Xavier. "Ready to admit your fault?"

He rolled his eyes. "May as well see where this goes."

Cécile dropped the sandal down the stairs. The clatter got the dragons' attention, and they noticed the cucumber.

Eyes widening, Cynder squawked and jumped up to the ceiling. Meanwhile, Spyro approached the cucumber and gave it a sniff. He nudged with his snout. "Who left this thing here? It looks edible..."

The black dragoness fell back down, landing on all fours. She hissed. "Damn vegetable! I thought it was a snake!"

"Doesn't your Poison element make you immune to their venom?" Spyro asked, head tilting to the side.

She nudged him with her snout. "Shush. It's more complex than that. I'm only immune to toxins my body is familiar with. Otherwise, I need to spend days with the toxin sloshing within me before I'm able to neutralize it at will."

"Damn, that's just our immune system, I'm pretty sure," Xavier whispered.

"Never mind that," Cécile hissed. "Did you see them? Their reaction settles it. Cynder is a cat, and Spyro is a dog!"

He adjusted his glasses. "That dubious experiment barely qualifies as conclusive evidence," he said in a haughty voice.

She slapped his shoulder in mock offence. "Quit overthinking things!"

Cole's house was burning. He did not know when or how it had happened, but it formed a pit of dread in his stomach. Somehow, he knew that Lisa was trapped inside. He barrelled into the burning building.

Immediately, the ferocious heat washed over him. His skin's nerves screamed in protest, and smoke invaded his lungs and stung his eyes. Hacking, eyes watering, Cole pushed through. The door to their bedroom drew near. Cole tried to open the door, but it was stuck. In the moment, he did the only thing that came to mind: He took a few steps back and charged through the door.

A gruesome sight met his eyes. Lisa lay in bed, but she had been mutilated. Cole gagged, fighting to keep himself from throwing up.

A shadowed figure stood over her, knife in hand. Cole felt his anger bubbling up like a volcano. He rushed toward it, screaming in rage. "You bastard!"

However, an invisible force yanked him to a stop. Looking back, he noticed there were chains wrapped around his limbs. His eyes widened in shock. When and how had this logic-defying nonsense happened?

The sounds of an infant crying cut his thoughts short. In the corner of the room, there was a crib, the source of the noise. Utter disbelief and suspicion crossed Cole's features. His child wasn't due for a couple more months — what the hell was going on?

His confusion gave way to dread as the shadow began to make his way over to the crib. Cole trashed against his bindings, spouting every curse in his vocabulary. "Stay away from my child, you bastard!"

The shadow moved agonizingly slow, as if taunting him. Once he was one step away from the crib, it raised its knife.

Cole cried in defiance as the weapon came down.

Cole jostled awake in a cold sweat. Heart thundering in his chest, his eyes darted around frantically until they settled on Lisa's peaceful, sleeping form.

Lisa… Cole's heart quelled at seeing that she was safe. Taking a deep breath, the man got out of bed, careful not to disturb his sleeping wife. His footsteps broke the silence in the house as he made his way over to the kitchen. A refreshing glass of water could help him process that freakish nightmare. Cole took a sip, noting how his hand trembled as he recalled the dream.

What even was all that about? Compared to a normal dream, this one felt much more vivid. And I did feel a little restless when going to sleep. Maybe that Jim guy was right — I should have gotten myself examined… Cole put down the glass of water on the counter and tightened his hand into a fist, forcing its trembles to stop. No, what am I thinking? Surely, this has to be a temporary side effect; I'll be back to normal after a few days of sleep.

Flashes of Lisa's fate in the nightmare sent butterflies into Cole's stomach, but he banished those thoughts as he finished his glass of water. Lisa is fine. She will be fine. Such a ridiculous scenario could never happen anyway.

AN:

I noticed that the story needed more Xavier content. Cécile has been hogging the spotlight, so what better way to fix that than with EMPIRICAL, SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS‽ Also, I had to do the box and cucumber thing, or I would never forgive myself for missing out on this chance. And man, don't you just hate it when touching crystals gives you foreboding nightmares? Let's all wish Cole a speedy recovery. Every favourite, follow, and review will go into funding a cure for him.

I am, of course, LYING. Cole's that dawg in him. I'm sure he'll be fine.

As always, thank you to the amazing Linkuser2 for being my beta-reader! Check out his story, Daybreak, after this. He's cooking a fine story.

That's all from me. See you guys in a fortnight!

Author-san, signing out.

Spyro & Cynder, Food Critiques Extraordinaire! — Episode 3

...

"Pizza?" Spyro tilted his head to the side. "That's a weird name for food."

"The only weird thing here is that I wasn't in the vicinity when Cécile was ordering it," Xavier said, shooting his sister a suspicious glare.

She scoffed. "What are you looking at me like that for? I haven't done anything!"

"You haven't done anything yet."

Cynder stomped her paw against the ground. "While you're all squabbling, I'm dying of hunger over here. Can we please get to tasting this pizza?" Her stomach rumbled as if to add her urgency.

Xavier gave her a look. "Keep being that impatient, and the only thing you'll be eating is imaginary pizza," He sighed. "But I suppose we should get to eating."

He grabbed the pizza box off the counter and set it on the table. Everyone gathered around, with Cécile looking particularly mischievous.

"Cécile, if you ordered something nefarious, I'm going to — GAH!"

He had opened the box as he spoke, and the sight of whatever was inside shocked him to his core, making him fall on his buttocks.

The dragons' eyes widened in surprise. "Xavier? What's wrong?" Spyro asked.

He gritted his teeth. "What's wrong? What's wrong? That infernal thing is wrong!" He pointed an accusatory finger at the pizza as he stood up.

Spyro flipped the box's lid open. The so-called pizza, furnished with some red sauce, vegetables, bits of yellow fruit, and meat, met his gaze. "Looks fine to me." He took a whiff of its aroma, which made him smile dreamily. "Mmm, and it smells good too."

"No, Spyro!" Xavier pulled the purple dragon away from the pizza. "Do not let yourself be tainted! Its aroma spouts false promises of goodness! I will banish this unacceptable trash to where it belongs."

Cécile smirked. "Come on, Xavier, it's just Hawaiian pizza. Nothing to lose your marbles over."

"Silence, pest," he hissed. "Do you not realize how you've doomed us? And for what!"

"For your priceless reaction."

"Wait, I'm confused. What's up with this Hawaiian pizza?" Cynder asked.

"Nothing bad. Xavier is just being a sourpuss about it," Cécile replied snickering.

He scowled. "Wrong. Hawaiian pizza is the scourge of all food lovers. Imagine having a perfectly fine dish and adding something that goes completely against the intended flavour! Pineapple on pizza is like putting hot sauce on ice cream!"

"I would eat that," Spyro said.

"Then you're a FOOL!"

Cynder frowned. "Did you even taste it before crying about it like this?"

Xavier crossed his arms. "Why else do you think I'm so vocal about this?"

"Hm. Fair enough." The black dragoness licked her chops as she ogled a pizza slice she had taken in her paw. "Guess I'll have to see for myself."

She tried to take a bite but crunched down on thin air, for Xavier had snatched the slice away.

"Oi, that's mine!" she fumed.

He glared. "Pineapple is the topping of the enemy. We do not need it. We will not use it." He threw the slice into an empty garbage can.

Spyro cried out. "Now that's just wasteful!"

"No. It's a favour for you and the world."

It's just Magic Things

...

Cynder unloaded a few items onto a table she set up in the basement. It wasn't much, just a plethora of ingredients with a mortar and pestle. She knew of one spell that could help the dragons disguise themselves and escape into the Great Outdoors. The challenge would be to remember the ingredients for the spell.

"Oooh, whatcha making here?" asked Cécile as she marvelled at her makeshift workshop.

Cynder gave her a look. "Why are you here? I thought you were in your room?"

"I could sense something important was about to take place without me." She beamed. "Can't have that happening, now, can we?"

The black dragoness rubbed her temples, sighing. "Fine. Just don't touch anything and stay at a safe distance."

She saluted. "Gotcha! So, what are you doing?"

"Something magical."

"Is it a spell? A potion?" Cécile gasped. "Omigosh, do you think you could make a potion that lets me fly‽"

Cynder's expression soured. "I think we are adding 'Don't say anything' to the list of rules." I wonder who's more annoying, her or Sparx?

"Wait a second, did someone say 'potion'?"

Xavier walked in from the stairs. "Like the kind that gives superstrength, water breathing, and stuff? That kind of potion?" He looked very excited.

Cynder frowned. "I understand Cécile being excited, but you, Xavier? Really?"

His eyes rolled like slot machines and stopped on dollar signs. "Don't worry. It's just a passive interest, really."

"Today is going to be a fantastic day," Cynder said dryly. "Take Cécile and sit down. Don't say anything; don't touch anything; don't do anything. Got that?"

"Sure thing."

While they sat down, Cynder grabbed a mortar and mixed in a few ingredients that she ground into dust with a pestle. She threw in one of her scales to act as a catalyst. The concoction glowed as the magic took hold.

And it promptly blew up in her face.

Xavier and Cécile recoiled in shock. "Cynder!" they cried in worry.

The black dragoness hacked. She was covered in soot but otherwise unharmed. Her pride was another story, however. "Okay, that wasn't the right mixture of ingredients." She shook her head vigorously, clearing her face of soot. "But that's alright. The trial-and-error will be worth it."

"But will the house survive, though?" Xavier asked.

Cynder only smirked in reply.

Checking in on the Dragon Realms

...

Sparx sighed as he stared out the window. It was turning out to be another one of those days. Still no sign of Spyro, Ignitus, and Monster Girl. Where could they possibly have gone? He had been waiting ever since the world miraculously pulled itself back together. Warfang had taken a beating in the war, so the populace was hard at work with reconstruction. There was lots to do before they could find stability, but that meant looking for Spyro and co couldn't be prioritized yet.

"You know, staring at the window all day isn't going to make them come back any faster."

Sparx whirled around, fists clenched in irritation. Flame was to his right, at his desk, scribbling on a scroll of parchment with his quill. "What else am I supposed to do, Flame? It's been a week already!"

He snorted. "It's been only a week. I'm sure they'll turn up eventually. Maybe they've made a pit stop somewhere so they could rest before coming back." He dipped his quill in ink before continuing to write.

"Or maybe, they got ambushed while they were resting in a cave. Or a giant monster ate them! Or maybe Spyro tripped and sprained his ankle! We gotta go look for them, man!"

"I get it, Sparx," Flame said with a sigh. "I wish I could go looking for them too, but you heard the Guardians' stance on the matter. Warfang is a mess right now. Once we've stabilized the situation here, we can send search parties for them. It should only take a month until then, although the best-case scenario is that they return in the meantime."

Sparx sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I get it." He returned to sulking at the window. Spyro, Ignitus, and...ugh, yes, even you, Cynder, please be alright wherever you are.

...

Cynder hissed. "Let me go!" She resisted desperately as Xavier tried to get her inside the bathtub.

"Come on, Cynder! The less you struggle, the quicker this will end!"

"NEVER!" she snarled.