//------------------------------// // Catch ThirtyThree // Story: The Anvil of Dawn // by Starlix //------------------------------//  The break from dream to life was strikingly sudden. Cynder’s world was a void, her mind gone in a black pit where no life existed. Suffocating and lifeless, the black dragoness learned something during her time in desolation and darkness; the art of drowning. Falling into a place where one cannot breathe, she very quickly found how to exist as a ghost, filtering around for weeks, no consciousness in her comatose mind. While this dark pit was a null void where her very consciousness was gone and bleak, the juxtapose that would overcome it was enough to fracture her senses. Here she couldn’t think, not a single thought flew across her mind. It was the same as the thoughts someone had before they are born. In the context of sentience, it doesn’t exist, a place where one doesn’t think, nor can they realize that they could think. Simply, she was comatose in every single way. Her void was pierced very abruptly, a dim light breaking the veil of shadow across her mind and welcoming in a light of unbelievable intensity. Eyes that felt like they had never been used before were unprepared for the painful intrusion. Cynder wanted to blot the light. The very first thought that entered her drunk mind was this, a cry for retreat. The proud dragoness didn’t want to admit that she was scared, but in her own core she knew there was no escaping this tormentor, as it was eager to give more. Sunspots flashed in her unsteady vision. Despite the burning sun she was freezing, body numb and frozen like a glacier in the north. Cynder struggled in the grip of the sun, shocking stinging crawling across every nerve in her body. Evident agony strangled her scales, the very skin under them itching like a horde of fire ants were crawling along her. The black dragoness screamed, but nothing left her throat, the torn and shredded larynx not cooperating. Instead, liquid cascaded down her throat, choking her and dragging her down below the surface. A cold burial awaited her at the bottom of this trench, a shallow grave and an untimely end to a short life. Cynder’s body abruptly broke free of the cold grip of death, fire swimming in her veins, a fury in her blood. Claws and horns glowing green, Cynder swung blindly at her unknown attacker, fighting back with all she was worth. Heart pounding, the black dragoness broke the chain gripping her so tightly, shaking off the shackles with a cry of anger and pain. As the chains broke, the sedative keeping her body dead wore itself thin, a terrible agony flooding her system rapidly. The burn of flames and the scratching of glass across her limbs suddenly re-awoke, twisted and convulsing memories of a dark forest awaking in her head, Tears flowed down her cheeks, going completely unnoticed by the scrambling dragoness. Indignation screamed in her body, eager to slash and maul what was touching her. Something crawled up her throat, a slimy, wet fluid swimming in her esophagus. A wet screech broke through her jaws, echoing out in the void like a broken siren, morphing into a grotesque gurgling sound, accompanied by the terrible tolling of bells. Emerald eyes widening, Cynder twisted and contorted her body madly, bladed tail swiping at anything and everything close by. Her claws caught on something in the shade. Ripping her body to the side savagely, Cynder whipped her wings around, cutting something on her curved, knife like wings. An unearthly screech penetrated the desolation, the familiar sound of apes beckoning her back into the past. Her eyes, beginning to adjust to the blinding darkness, made out the shallow forms of the dark simians. Frantically, she scoured in circles, eyes scanning the darkness over and over, watching in growing terror as their numbers multiplied. Amidst their extreme numbers, the unearthly tolling of the bell pounded in her head, that wailing siren penetrating the fog. Cynder’s brain slammed into the side of her skull, her body rocking across the dark plain. A bloodied crack of snapping bones splintering her side. The black dragoness was too dazed to even scream. The light was gone, replaced by nothing but shadow. Sirens and bells tolling, the dragoness flipped onto her back, the familiar grip of grimy hands holding her down. She wanted to scream,  but nothing could get past the gag in her mouth, the disgusting taste of hands reaching down her throat. Insides curling, Cynder gurgled and bit down hard on the hands pushing into her throat. Putrid blood filled her throat, drowning lungs in the terrible taste of rotten infection. Screams amplified in the dragoness’s ears, horrific yelping coming from the simians holding her down. Chaos racked her every thought, the nightmare appearing unending. A breeze passed by, the wind barely brushing against her scales, but it was almost enough to break the terror induced trance plaguing her sleeping mind. Hatred spiked in Cynder’s veins, the dragoness's eye whites fading to black and her jade irises being replaced by a dark glowing navy blue. Snarling, the dragoness gave some of her fight to the shadows, jerking her body wildly. Tail blade cutting through the darkness, Cynder found herself looking at a very different surrounding than the one before. Realizations floored her suddenly. The breeze from before made sense now. She wasn’t the young adult anymore, no, instead sleek scarred black scales had been turned back into the dark grey blemish-less exterior of her youthful years. Cynder’s shackles remained, ever present reminders that she was enslaved to her past no matter how far back the clock turned. The pit of despair was gone, dark bleakness replaced by the pale blackness of a forest. Trees dotted Cynder’s vision, the landscape dominated by the black shapes of their presence. Amidst the frigid chill running through the dreams-cape, a dim groan of gurgling funneled just out of line of sight. She was instantly on edge, her eyes returning to normal and the whirlwind of rage and steel halting in her movements. Cynder eyed the darkness warily, jade orbs scanning the trees frantically. The breeze halted, the black sky motionless around her. Why was this place so familiar? What was that presence that lied on the outskirts of her senses? The young dragoness took a hesitant step forward, her claw tips not making a single sound on the stone-hard ground. A thought abruptly came to her. “This has to be a dream…” She whispered to herself, shaking her head roughly. It was coming back to her. Yes, she indeed knew this place, better than she would have liked. This dark forest had approached her many times in her dreams, the charred woods ever a nightmare. Raising a claw, she pricked her side hard, drawing a single drop of blood. It impacted the forest floor without a sound, splattering lightly. Deep within the forest an abomination was called to action. “Why....why can’t I wake up….” Cynder shivered, feeling a very unnatural chill race across her spine. Something was different, she had been here before, but she had snapped herself out of this lucid nightmare more than once. “I need to get out of here, if I stay put I’m dead.” Cynder turned her head around, whipping her vision to and fro. Nothing was there. There was no wind. There was no life. Only dark, gnarled trees and pitch black skylines. “Out of this forest, there’s got to be a way out.” The black dragoness whispered to herself, sprinting on muted paw-steps. Memories of before lanced through her head. Thoughts of her own agonized screams, the terrible gurgling… A siren wailing, a bell tolling deep within her skull…. The same sound that was just on the edge of her senses, surrounding her from virtually all directions. Cynder gulped hard, swallowing the growing lump in her throat, feeling pure desperation start to flow through her body. Her pupils shrunk and her paws skid the ground, pulling her down the narrow stone path leading through these terrible woods. Every soft pat of paws hitting the ground sped up her heart. Every rustle in the otherwise silent air made her head spin. Breath coming in heaves, the dragoness sprinted between tree lines, one thought on her mind. Get. Away. From. IT! A soft scampering pat noise tapped along behind her, the steady beat of claws impacting dirt beginning to be droned out by an increasingly loud buzz of static in her head. Soreness came to her lungs and limbs much faster than normal, the black dragoness unused to the youthful form she found herself in. Breath hitching as pale light came from within the trees up ahead, Cynder’s heart dropped. The black dragoness's face morphed into a picture of pure horror. Her jaw dropped and she skid to a halt as she breached the narrow clearing, pale white and red light shining through the trees. Cynder’s eyes became simple jade pools with a tiny black dot in the center, fear rendering her immobile. The monster towered over her, nearly ten feet tall. It screeched, it’s pale bony form emerging from the ground, stuck in spots like ink dried to paper. The bottom of it’s body grew from the ground like tree roots, pulsing blood red veins running up the entirely of it’s morphed and distended body. It's wings lacked membranes, instead just looking like a razor sharp sheet with pulsing veins running along the surface. Odd shackles adorned it's body in strange places, appearing as a disrupted copy of her own. The worst part of it was it’s head. The neck extended far too long, the appendage seemingly to gain a life of it’s own. The neck narrowed and broadened at random, gaining bloated sections at the bend, before narrowing out at off ends. Cynder squealed in terror. It’s face….it was hers. Grotesque in every way, the face resembled hers, but was bone white and much too long. The eyes larger, sunken in black sockets that looked more like ink colored binoculars than sockets on a living being. Inky tar leaked down from its gaze, falling into it’s much too big mouth. It didn’t open right, long lines of flesh still attached themselves in strings down the middle of the nearly eighty degree opened jaw. Cynder felt herself gazing into eternity in it’s bottomless black pit of a throat, at least as much that wasn’t obscured by mismatched teeth of varying sharpness and size. It didn’t take long. A single second. “Run little Cynder, go and hide.” It called to her in a mix of childish glee and villianish malice. It’s groaning voice echoed in her ears from everywhere, the simple declaration bounding over itself multiple times, slowing and speeding up. The dragoness screamed, her voice sounding deranged and insane. In a split second, she was off, catapulting herself as far away from the abomination as she could. Heart thudding thunderously in her hears, she could hear it behind her, screaming in….her voice. It didn’t sound right. Like someone had recorded it and played it back, but the audio had gotten corrupted. The disturbing scream was laced with static, the screeching scraping painfully against Cynder’s eardrums. Gritting her teeth, Cynder shook the tears from her jade eyes. Paws slamming into the earth and heart pounding almost painfully against her rib-cage, Cynder threw herself around the bend of the path, swiping her glowing green tail blade against the large boulder along the corner of the path. Green acidic juice sprayed off the end of the blade as it collided with rock, staining the path with poisonous lime tar. Dashing forward without breaking stride, Cynder turned her head, though she immediately wished she hadn’t. It squirmed around the bend, limbs splayed in different directions, head now only resembling hers at the basest of levels. The mouth opened and distorted, bending in unnatural patterns, continuing to emit that haunting, bent version of her own screams. Cynder cringed forcefully, whipping her head around and continuing to sprint down the narrow path at full speed, paws thudding against the ground, kicking up a small trail of grey dust. The eyes glaring into the back of her head nearly burned a hole in the dragoness back, causing her heart to skip a beat heavily. She let out a shuddering breath, skidding off the path as it suddenly ended directly in the wake of a dead end. Screaming in frustration and desperation, Cynder threw herself between trees, heightening her focus to near impossible levels. The world seemed to draw ever slower, her breaths coming in slowed down motions. Blinking rapidly, Cynder tossed herself to the side, nearly avoiding the monster as it propelled forward, snapping and bending trees as it’s unnatural body contorted around the limbs. A stare followed, each meeting gazes, but only briefly. Cynder saw something inside those black pits of tar, a vision that shook her bones, a glimpse of something she never wanted to see. She saw herself in that horror, that’s when she became scared. Not another thought was needed, the dragoness locked up, mind uncomprehending. Talons scampering as the creature’s grotesque mouth bent into a twisted smile, the dragoness ricocheted in the opposite direction. At first she didn’t hear it follow her, merely hearing the haunting laughter of a time long past. It was cruel and uncompromising, a sadistic noise that took pleasure in the twisted pain it was causing, the agony it had caused in the past. Images appeared in Cynder’s head, the pictures ones she had attempted to burn long ago. Lances of pain flashed in her skull, horrific images of torture and mutilation. Atrocities committed by her, the demon she had once been. Snarling in enraged defiance, Cynder buried the self loathing under a coat of anger, blood boiling in her veins. Shaking her rattling scales roughly, the dragoness pushed her paws to the side, coughing once. Smacking the side of her head roughly, Cynder pressured her brain into action, drawing upon the level of focus she had once shown in battle, shearing the pained memories free of her mind. It seemed it was all too fortunate that she did so, for just as Cynder retained her focus, the abomination was hot on her heels, cruel laughter invading her space. Magenta wing membranes snapped taught, following the spread of black limbs upon her back, Cynder rolled forward, twisting her body around to the direction she had been running away from. Stomach rolling in her chest, the dragoness's lungs expanded far. A earth shattering blast of wind burst free of Cynder’s throat, hitting the abomination forcefully, pushing it back several yards before it’s twisted limbs caught the ground, locking it into place. The black female didn’t wait to find out if it could break free. Wing still spread, she forced every bit of remaining strength she had into the shallow streams of wind from her dash through the woods. Nothing would come to her, no matter how hard she willed it too. “Come on, work with me!” Cynder snarled, frustrated beyond all thinking. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and without waiting she ducked, her body moving so fast her muscles torn in her legs. A white flash sailed over her, smashing into trees, the noise slamming into her ear drums. Cynder clenched her eyes shut, whispering fervently into the woods around her, listening very carefully as the screams from earlier replaced laughter, this time carrying a high pitched wail that made her scales crawl and teeth itch. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted it, noting how it struggled this time. The sight was putrid. Along the front of it’s body were harsh red marks, the thick pulsing veins along it’s entire body rupturing, spurting red across white. It’s jaws were nearly a straight line, the bottom mandible opened so wide it looked like it had simply fallen out of it’s socket. That disgusting black liquid continued to leak from it’s eyes and mouth, hitting the ground with an audible thud. Those black holes bored straight into her, sending a shiver across the dragoness's spine. “Karma is such a bitch.” Cynder swallowed hard, pulling her wings back across the scarred black scales along her back. Without turning back, the black scaled female stepped hurriedly into the onyx treeline. Shadows slid along the ground, the female’s eyes now a near solid black. Magenta highlights now hidden under a billowing cloak of darkness, she ran through the woods. Expanding her reach, Cynder pushed shadows around her talons, effectively muffling her paw-steps, each sounding like thunder across the deathly silent forest. The black female raced across the forest, narrowly avoiding each tree by less than an inch, not sparing the room. She knew she needed the speed, bleeding any could result in that monster catching up. Heart thudding under a splintered rib cage, a set of lungs burned. Cynder nearly retched after several minutes of full on sprint, this youthful body she was stuck in not able to put out the normal amount of exertion she had become accustomed to. Slowing her pace, Cynder bent her pathing, turning a near ninety degrees to the right, before continuing her sprint. It became apparent to her that something had changed, and surprise hit her harder than anything else. That noise, that dull ringing that had started the second she had awoke here was gone. Along with that, the distorted noises that it had made was absent. Slowing her pace, the female stopped by a large trunk. Leaning against it, she sat down, bringing a paw up to her chest. Her breaths came fast and hard, heaving from battered lungs with acidic pain. It took a minute, but she was able to slow her heart and breathing. A black scaled head, nearly invisible in the night, peered around the trunk, which in itself was hard to spot. Although her eyes had adjusted to the bleak darkness, she could barely see anything without the assistance of shadow. Not a sight nor a sound. “What….” She whispered nearly inaudibly. Cynder sank deeper against the tree, a sigh leaving her. She brought a paw to her mouth, pressing it hard against her muzzle as a shuddering breath left her. She wanted to cry, to weep and beg for something to end this nightmare, but she didn’t. Her grit was the only way she would survive this, it had gotten her this far in life. With a miserable groan, she wiped her eyes of the building moisture. Leaning her head back against the trunk, Cynder closed her eyes. Fear like that, it’s what drove beings to survive, it’s why she was alive in the first place. Why wasn’t she dead, there wasn’t anything that should have let her escape from that grip, nothing can escape the pull of a black hole. Fear is what kept her from falling into it, into that bottomless pit that wanted nothing more than her eternal torture, a slow unending agony that she would never escape from. Fear. All her life fear is what people got from her. Even if they hid it behind anger and violence, they were always afraid of her deep down. It was the reaction that had always remained the most consistent for her, fear that she felt was always outweighed by the fear she inspired. Fear is what kept her from that monster she once was. The terror that she would fall from the grey area of morality that she occupied. Nothing was more terrifying that returning to what she was, to her. Miss Murder was the image of terror, the slaughterer of thousands, the object of so many nightmares and lost loved ones. A predator rouge that was the source of every prayer and call for help. She was panic, she was death, she was horror. Despite that, there would always be something more true about that which stalked her in this dark forest. However much she inspired, she was not fear. She wasn’t the manifestation of horror and death, of pestilence and chaos, the harbinger of the end. It was fear. And fear is not afraid of you. A childish giggle filtered into her ears. Cynder’s eyes snapped open, staring right into pools of ink and tar, not two inches from her face. A droning siren wail filtered through the forest all around her, a bell tolled from above. Pressed against the tree, she couldn’t even breathe. “Found you Cynder.” Her own voice had never sounded so terrifying. * * * Cynder jerked wildly, her limbs suddenly not working. The recurring image of it’s eyes, it’s horrible eyes, continued to ring around in her skull. She cringed, whimpering in pain. For what it was worth, she could make out sounds that weren't present in that forest, a good sign in her book. Trying to move an arm was a tremendous effort in it’s own right. A strangled groan left her muzzle, a wet cough followed by something dribbling from her jaws. Her claws tapped against something covering her eyes, a soft fabric clasp. Memories came back to her, the visions of her body being destroyed before her very eyes was more than enough to stick. Wincing, the dragoness tried to push herself off her back. Dull throbbing where her wings were was enough to keep the wounded female from attempting too much movement. Another strangled groan escaped her, the dragoness flopping back onto her back with a weak gasp, every inch of Cynder’s body filled with a dull aching, like something was scraping under her scales. Cynder cringed when she tried to use her voice, attempting to weakly call out to whoever was near. Instead of words, all that escaped her was a weary rasp, accented by a near inaudible gurgle deep within her throat. Growling softly, the female brought a talon up to her eyes weakly, slashing carefully across the fabric. Wrenching her claws in the opening, she pulled the gauze forcefully from over closed emerald eyes. The dragoness was grateful that vision came to her, albeit slowly, but at least she had it still. The room was dark, nearly too dark for anything to be made out. An oil lamp sat in the corner of the chamber on a desk, the light proving to be unnaturally bright to the dragoness’s damaged vision. Cringing at the painfully bright light, Cynder turned her head, neck cracking from a crippling lack of movement. Much of her sleek black scales and magenta belly was obscured by stained white gauze, making her look more like a mummified corpse than a strong, seasoned warrior. In particular, a spot on her lower belly was massively bandaged, the white fabric extending along the line of her belly, disappearing under her back. Despite this, she could feel the multitude of bandages her back leaned on. Cynder groaned, feeling more drained and achy than she had ever been. Sighing roughly, Cynder leaned her head back, smacking the padded pillow resting behind her head. At least she knew she wasn’t dead; hurt way too damn much to be anything other than still living and breathing. The sound of tapping glass next to her broke the dragoness's concentration. Turning groggily, the female was greeted to a hybrid creature sitting next to her. It was half bird and half lion, gazing down at her with a small smile on it’s beak. Soft burgundy feathers painted her mid and back halves, while a dark grey mane sported her front. “Rise like the phoenix, my dear. You’re not dead yet.” The griffon gave her a smirk, bringing a glass up to her lips. Cynder was very suddenly reminded of how parched her throat was. Normally the independent dragoness would’ve been all against having someone help her do such a simple task, but in this state all she could think about was how good the liquid looked. Reaching a shaky paw up, the dragoness pushed the glass back abruptly. The griffon gave a quiet squawk, surprised by the sudden energy in her near dead charge. Guiding the glass back, the avian gave the younger female a reproachful look. Inside the dragoness’s throat, a laceration suddenly burned like fire from the rough treatment, causing Cynder to choke and sputter, a violent hack breaking through her lungs. Her nurse quickly grabbed the glass from her talons before it could slip, while helping to ease the dragoness back during her coughing fit. Gasping raspily, Cynder pushed herself back up a bit, a faulty stoic look eased onto her expression. Halting the burning retch building within her throat, the female dragon reached out shakily back towards the glass. “Don’t drown yourself, not sure your throat could handle much right about now.” Cynder paid her no heed, instead focusing on swallowing the water, though this time taking it a bit more carefully. When it was empty, the hen carefully set it back onto a tray beside her, casting her ruby red eyes down on the dragoness. Swapping the glass for a clay bowl, the hen brought the foul smelling mixture to Cynder’s lips, the female visibly recoiling at the stench. “Yeah yeah, I know it doesn’t smell very good and it tastes even worse.” The griffon rolled her eyes, tilting the bowl forward carefully with her dexterous claws. “Trust me, you’re gonna want it. I’m sure you’re in some pain, it’s nothing compared to what it’ll feel like if we don’t keep this in your system.” Cynder couldn’t help but agree with that statement, so she toughed out the terrible concoction, swallowing it in one go. The female’s next attempt at conversation ended in a coughing fit and a somewhat scolding look from the griffon. “You won’t be able to speak for a while. When you were brought to me your were virtually dead. Among the large list of injuries, you had your Larynx torn to pieces. Thankfully your vocal cords were relatively intact and seem to be healing on their own.” The dragoness found herself nodding along with what was being said. Memories of what happened in that forest were unfortunately very vivid. She felt her stomach curl. Cynder could still feel that thing slicing through her neck like a burning blade. “It’s been three weeks since then. To be completely honest with you, I wasn’t ever expecting you to wake up.” For the first time, the griffon’s expression changed from reserved, a tone of sympathy coloring it. Three weeks? A fire started in Cynder’s heart. That was too much time to be away, what had happened to Spyro? It was fairly evident that he wasn’t with her, the griffon had only mentioned her being found, not another. Then was her dead? Had that entire ambush been a slaughter from it? Was anyone still alive from that but her? “I’m sorry, you should have seen what I saw.” The griffon quickly amended when she caught the pained look from her charge, misreading the emotion’s cause. "When you are able to get back on your feet, I want you to take time to work your body back into shape. We were able to get some food into you along the weeks, but there will be some atrophy in your muscles. Not to mention that you were missing large chunks of them to begin with, but...." the griffon trailed off with a grimace and a shake of her feathered head. Cynder cringed rather forcefully. Those had hurt much worse than any physical wounds she had ever experienced, and though the dragoness hadn't seen the damage personally the feeling of masses of flesh being torn and ripped out were memories she didn't suspect to be leaving any time soon. Noticing the aloofness of her nurse, Cynder pointed a claw at the griffon, raising a brow with a questioning grunt. Said griffon gave her a confused glance for a second. Blinking once, she snapped her claws. “Ah yes, how silly of me. My name is Gimle.” She gave a confident smirk, swiping some of the reddish liquid from the corner of Cynder’s mouth. “Don’t even try to introduce yourself honey, I’ll found out when that voice of yours recovers.” It just occurred to Cynder how strange that Gimle sounded. Her accent was unlike any she had ever heard. The griffon’s words seemed to come from farther back in her throat, her ‘o’s more highlighted. There was a strange sort of rhythm to her words, one that Cynder found impossible to describe. “My husband found you, if you were wondering. You truly have no idea how lucky you are.” She gave Cynder a blank look, one that spoke of how serious she was. “He wasn’t looking for you.” The dragoness winced, realizing that for once, she was completely helpless then. If the intentions of those that had found her had been more malicious, then she wouldn’t be here listening to this strange griffon. She be in the vengeful grip of the thousands that she had slaughtered. She shivered heavily at the thought. “Don’t gripe too much.” The griffon gripped her shoulder, shaking the younger female from her increasingly distressing line of thought. “You are alive, even if it was by the tip of a feather.” Wincing at the ache in her bones, the dragoness nodded once, doing her best to show just how grateful she was. Thankfully the older female grasped the moisture in the jade irises staring up. Giving her charge a soft pat on the head, Gimle leaned back, snapping a claw in remembrance. “Oh, I almost forgot, my daughter visits from time to time, and she happened to stop by the other day when I was working on you. She may pop her head in from time to time. If you can talk, try to be a bit tough towards her at first, that's the kind of thing Gilda respects.” Cynder raised a brow. How was she supposed to have a conversation, at least one that wasn’t completely one sided? And how would this mystery griffon even know who she was? She had no way of voicing her concerns. Gimle seemed to catch her skeptical look, rolling her eyes at the black dragoness. “Yes, I know you can’t speak, I was just letting you know in advance. She can be rather….pushy.” The hen rolled a claw, casting her gaze somewhere else. Cynder felt a sense of exasperation. Great, a brusque hen, just what she wanted to deal with. Thinking for a second, Cynder supposed that she could be like that, so…. “I won’t let her bother you right now, I doubt you’d be able to keep up with her energy given your injuries.” The hen picked up the tray, getting to her feet. “I’ll check up on you later, get some rest for now.” Gimle stopped for a second, not looking back. Following the terse silence, she turned her head with a weary smile on her beak. “I saw you tossing and turning, I know you don’t sleep easy. Behind the clouds, the sun is always shining, just remember that.” Without another word, she walked out the open door, the lock clicking softly behind her. The silence left Cynder to ponder the hen’s words. It was no secret she had nightmares, but if those were the clouds, when the hell would they pass? Cynder was reminded of her old fortress, the constant storm that raged there. Grunting softly, she rolled over, being careful not to aggravate her wounds. There may always be a sun behind the storm, but some storms never pass. She had been so close to death, closer than ever before, it was a truly scarring thought. And Cynder had never felt more alive.