“Spyro, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s over now.”
A world was torn asunder, and in the process, a new age was dawning. Would it be an age of fire and destruction, blood and warfare? Or would it be something new? An age of peace and tranquility, of love and friendship? Spyro did not know. Nor did Cynder. Nobody knew what was to come next.
The current world was being shattered and ripped apart before being born anew piece by piece. The world was breaking apart with magic bursting at the seams. And all eyes now turned to one purple dragon who in all honesty deserved one very long rest. He knew he had to stop this, even with his last breath. Cynder knew she should go, run to a safe place and not have to witness this. But she was stubborn like that. They’d been in this together from the very beginning and they would be together to the very end.
“Then I’m with you. To the end of the line. I love you… Spyro.”
And then the whole world went white.
In a realm unseen by the eyes of mortals, the Great Chronicler found himself opening a new chapter in the pages of history. He turned, seeing the newest arrival to his realm. “Be welcome friend, I’ve long been expecting you…” he said. “A new age is beginning. And I wonder, what will it be like?”
“Yes, I do wonder indeed…” the newcomer pondered. Malefor had been defeated and his taint was gone forever. But now so was the young dragon who defeated him. It grieved Ignitus to know so. The young dragon he’d helped raise was now simply ashes in the wind. He’d given his life to save this world, and rebuild it. But what a cost he’d paid in the process. But perhaps now… he finally had earned his happiness.
“With each new age,” the Great Chronicler continued. “A worthy dragon is chosen to chronicle the many triumphs and failings of that age. This has been my duty for many millennia. And now, I pass it to you.”
“But will I be ready?” Ignitus asked as he felt his body slowly beginning to change. Bright red scales turned to a nearly angelic sea blue. “And… and what of young Spyro?” he asked feeling his heart sink.
“I know you will,” the Chronicler said with a small wink. “And yes, what of Spyro indeed? And his mate? That is strange, I’ve gone through this book many times over and yet… and yet…”
“And yet what?” Ignitus asked feeling a rising hope in his chest. Steadily it grew like a flame, going from a small ember to a possible inferno.
“What of Spyro? That is the question, isn’t it? It’s strange. You see each time a dragon dies a new page is added to this book and yet I cannot find him or his chosen anywhere…” the Chronicler noted before chuckling to himself seemingly at some private joke. His eyelids relaxed themselves and he began to glow with an ethereal white light.
Ignitus smiled and opened the next page even as the Chronicler faded away. He then barked out a laugh. So a new age had indeed begun! And what an age it would be!
A young dragon found himself opening his eyes slowly but surely, groaning from the bright light. The sun beat down on his scales, another hot day in Artisans. What a strange dream he mused to himself. Purple dragons? Him and Cynder fighting another dragon? Yeah, he really needed to lay off on the chicken before bed he mused to himself. Rising to his full height, Spyro groaned once more as he stretched his wings extending them and letting them bask in the early afternoon sun.
“...Yeah, the Dream Weavers gave me a weird one last night…” the drake mused to himself. “Must have been their idea of getting back at me for playing that prank on Lateef really. Well, it was Cynder’s idea so if anything they should be blaming her!”
Never mind the fact that it was both of their ideas to blare rock music from a record player while Lateef was meditating. Then, of course, they ran like Hell.
Speaking of Cynder, he wondered where she was. Training with Maximos and Magnus in Peace Keepers as she was known to do, or chatting with Elora in Avalar?
Spyro had to fight back a chuckle even as he took to the skies, taking in the castles of Stone Hill below him. Beyond that were the winding trails leading out to the sheep fields where griffons protected their flocks with a fever. If you were to have asked him a year ago, he said he wouldn’t have had anything to do with love. But then Cynder came along, having crash-landed in Dark Hollow with a broken wing and caught Spyro’s interest at once. He wasn’t sure what it was really. Maybe it was her spitfire attitude or the fact that she was actually remarkably funny.
In any case, Spyro found himself with a growing attraction to the dragoness and after a few clueless mis-starts and some help from Sparx and Nestor he’d won her over. Of course, it might have helped he had stayed by her side during her healing process as well.
He’d gotten no end of it from both Hunter and his friends, all of them remarking on how the mighty Spyro had fallen and fallen hard at that. Spyro chuckled at the memories as he saw the rocks of the Peace Keepers world starting to show and grass beginning to give way to the desert.
Out here, you had to be a much tougher breed of dragon to survive with all the tar pits and dangerous predators. Ironically, this dangerous wasteland was also the first line of defense against invaders from other countries. Of course, given the fact that you had to contend with not just dragons might have had something to do with it…
In any case, Spyro found himself gliding down to the dry maze of desert canyons below him. Careful not to land in any of the tar pits, he heard the very distinctive sounds of swords ringing out from somewhere nearby. He smiled to himself. Cynder, of course. He found himself following the sounds and entered a small makeshift arena set up by the locals where Cynder with a blade in her mouth was currently dueling another dragon, a deep blue in color. Spyro remembered his occupation if not the name, the dude worked as a barista in Artisans. Seems he was branching out.
Maximos was presiding over the duel and clapping when Cynder pulled off a particularly impressive sword move. Her fellow swordsman clapped as well accepting his defeat gracefully doing a small bow with Cynder following.
“Good one!” Gavin exclaimed. “You’re going to have to teach me that move, the Hydra Decapitation Strike you called it…?” he asked looking towards Maximos who nodded in turn.
“Well, I pity the hydras!” Maximos said with a deep belly laugh, the yellowish dragon clutching his sides as he struggled not to fall over from laughter. Spyro’s eyes meanwhile were squarely on Cynder and he found himself watching as she wiped the beads of sweat off her face with a wet towel before going through several more maneuvers with her sword. The violet dragoness was all but dancing as she gracefully sliced through the air and with one clean strike took the head off a Gnorc dummy. And Spyro was transfixed all the while.
There were a few sniggers in the background, Maximos and Gavin laughing as they watched the completely lovestruck dragon eye his mate.
“Oh, how our young Spyro has grown up…” Gavin whispered to his fellow dragon with a conspiratorial grin. “Three gems says she notices him within about… oh, I give it five seconds?”
“Oh, that’s a sucker’s bet!” Maximos whispered back as he polished his warhammer. “You couldn’t even get me to take that. ...Okay, five gems and a free pot of coffee at the Green Scale and you’re on.”
“You’re so going to lose…” Gavin said. And sure enough, the barista was right on the money… er, or gems as it were. Cynder smirked as she turned back to look at her mate.
“Taking a peek?” she asked as she let her tail curl along Spyro’s jawline making him blush and shudder a bit at her touch. “See something you like, artisan boy?”
Behind him, Gavin and Maximos were now cracking up like a pair of idiots. Spyro shook his head fondly. He loved his adoptive clan, he really did but they could be such a bunch of idiots at times.
“...Such a bunch of alpha males…” Cynder noted as she watched Maximos pass a few gems towards his friend. Her dragonfly partner Flare floated and fluttered around her head giggling. “I can see where you got it from…” she remarked.
“Yeah, but you gotta love the-Hey!” Spyro shouted as he suddenly realized what Cynder had said to him. By now, Maximos and Gavin had barreled over laughing and were now sobbing tears of amusement from the scene unfolding before them.
“Yep, still got it,” Cynder smiled before giving her mate a small nibble. “So, want to go a few rounds with me?” she asked.
“S-Sure!” Spyro stammered out in reply not sure which type of round Cynder was implying. He hoped it was the one he thought it was. He doubted that was the case but a drake could hope right?
Before Cynder could answer, a sharp scream of fear cut through the air. Both Cynder and Spyro shared a look before nodding. “Come on Cyn, we have some things to do!” Spyro shouted before breaking into a run as flames snorted from his nostrils in fury. He knew the cause of the scream.
Gnorcs. Even after their king Gnasty’s defeat, they were still a recurring problem throughout the realms. Most hid away in caverns taking whatever treasure they could find but on very rare days some got… bolder. Some actually went out and attacked dragon families as revenge against Spyro for defeating their king. Most of the time Spyro mused -as he took to the skies with Cynder right on his trail- he was able to swiftly put down any Gnorc uprisings and send them crying for their mommies. But on some occasions, there were those days when he wasn’t quite so lucky.
He sincerely hoped today wasn’t going to be one of those days.
Fear. That was the first and probably most crucial thing that was going through the young drake’s mind as he ran, gnorcs in pursuit. Blood covered his left side. The gnorcs shouting and screaming came from behind, vultures nipping at the child’s legs. He turned and let out a small blast of green flame rendering one of the unfortunate birds to a charbroiled crisp but then in his haste failed to notice the small rock coming up fast. He let out a shout as he tripped and landed flat on his face, a pool of bubbling tar laying dangerously close.
And the gnorcs knew this. Closing in, they brandished their swords. Spike braced for death.
Then they heard it. A loud roar that shook the canyon walls and saw a purple and gold blur darting towards them. The gnorcs’ eyes widened in fear in almost comical fashion. They knew who was coming.
One was soundly slammed to the ground by Spyro, who chose to land on top of him. He opened his jaws wide his neck glowing with an ominous orange hue and the gnorc knew no more.
Two other gnorcs snarled in rage upon seeing their fallen comrade and rushed towards the young drakeling that was their quarry. A violet blur was seen from above if only for a brief moment and two small crystals came flying down. They exploded on contact sending the gnorcs flying backward. Then, Spike saw her. A majestic violet dragoness growling at the gnorcs wings flared in a protective fury. A sword rested on her left foreleg ready to be drawn.
“You shall not touch him!” Cynder shouted before taking a deep breath and unleashing a powerful blast of wind blowing the gnorcs skywards.
“Shield your eyes kid!” Spyro shouted knowing exactly what was to come next. Spike was all too happy to do so. And so he obeyed, not wanting to bear witness to what was to come next. Cynder rocketed upwards blade drawn and in a flash of light struck down the twin gnorcs.
Green gnorc blood splattered the ground.
Another gnorc came dressed in red garb, obviously the commander of this little regiment/hunting party.
“Ask yourself,” Spyro said in a low dangerous tone as he strode forwards snorting fire from his nostrils in a fury. “Do you really want to mess with me?”
Kids were high on his list and so to harm them, especially a dragon kid was a very swift death sentence. The gnorcs knew this as well, or at least the commander as the next -and probably brightest- thing he did was run for it disappearing into the canyons.
“Should we go after him?” Cynder asked. “I’d love to hunt him down. Attacking a kid!” she snarled striking at a boulder in anger. She in her outrage created a deep enough slash for it to be visible, gouged into the rock.
“No, I think we have bigger problems,” Spyro replied wrapping a wing around his mate in an attempt to soothe her. Tiamat knew she’d probably need it if Spyro’s suspicions were correct. A deep sinking feeling was beginning to fill him. He hoped he was wrong about what had just happened. “...Where’s your parents kid?”
“T-That way…” Spike whispered sounding as if he was close to tears pointing to another part of the canyon. Spyro swallowed nervously gesturing for him to stay before he nervously went off in the direction he had been pointed towards.
He definitely hoped he was wrong about what had just happened by now.
His eyes widened in horror and behind him Cynder stifled a sharp gasp as they saw twin dragons laying on the canyon floor, bleeding heavily. Spyro ran up to the larger of the two. The mother. The one still living. Nearby, Cynder was gently shutting the male’s eyes and whispering a prayer in the ancient draconic language.
“What’s his name?” Spyro asked gently knowing this one didn’t have much time left. “Please… Please just tell me. I’ll… I’ll take care of him. Do you right, raise him as you would have wanted!” he said sounding close to tears.
“T-Thank you… Spyro,” the dragoness shuddered out in gasping breaths grasping Spyro’s hand with her own. “Spike… his name is Spike…” she said in a voice almost too soft to hear.
“What? What’s his name?”
“Spike…” the dragoness breathed out before her hand fell limp. Spyro’s wings drooped and he raised his head to the sky before letting out a deluge of flame.
Then he heard it, and let out a murmur of: “Oh no… Kid…” as he saw the young drake running up to his mother and began sobbing into her chest begging for her to wake. But she never would.
Cynder feeling an unknown instinct take over pulled Spike into a hug and began to rock him back and forth saying: “Shh… shh…” as she draped her wings around him. “It’ll be okay… it’ll be okay…”
But deep down she knew it probably never would be. She turned towards Spyro seemingly asking what she should do. No, what they should do.
Spyro knew there was only one answer.
In the Dream Weavers world, a dragon met up with a Princess. Lateef knew her. She was a dear friend of his. Luna, they called her. She helped to rule over a land far from here, the one that the young Spike and his parents had come from.
“...I see…” Luna said sadly shaking her head. “I shall see that they get proper burials and honors. And of young Spike?”
“Spyro and Cynder plan to take him in,” Lateef said his star speckled wings drooping in sadness. “...To lose one’s parents at so young an age…”
“Yes, quite,” Luna replied narrowing her eyes. For a brief moment, Lateef was reminded he was not just dealing with an ordinary pony but the ruler of the dream world herself. “I shall see that the last of that hunting party is found and I will… deal with him.”
Lateef could only shudder to imagine what his oldest friend would do with the gnorc. He almost pitied him. Almost. To leave a child without parents was probably the greatest crime one could commit.
“...I remember Nestor finding young Spyro,” Lateef said. “The poor thing was crying when he was found. No parents to be seen anywhere. He might have been abandoned. I suspect Spyro to this day still has the memories although he does not speak of them. I know that is why he is the perfect choice to take in Spike. Both without parents, both dragons so I know they can strike up a bond.”
“Yes…” Luna agreed. “Lateef, if I may have the pleasure of…?”
“Visiting young Spike’s dreams tonight? I would be honored to allow you to join me tonight. Tiamat knows the poor kid’s going to need something tonight,” Lateef said sadly before he snarled. “Attacking dragon kids, it’s almost unheard of! Not since the days of the Sorceress were creatures ever this bold!”
“I can only hope Spyro and Cynder are ready to face the great challenges that lie ahead. Taking care of a kid in itself is no easy matter, but an orphaned one?” Luna trailed off.
“I know they’ll rise up to the challenge,” Lateef reassured before his facial features hardened once more. “They’ll have to. They’ll have to…”
“Best of luck to you young Spyro…” he thought to himself. “Best of luck to you both.”