//------------------------------// // 3: Early Days // Story: Son of a Dragon // by The Bricklayer //------------------------------// Cynder sighed as she rested her head on a bed of woven grass, placing it atop a pillow. The bed -or to be honest a mat really- itself had been a gift from Elora, having woven it herself as a wedding gift to Spyro and Cynder. Her only warning was not to ruin it. Spyro, of course, had been somewhat clueless as to what she could have possibly meant before it finally clicked in his head with a massive blush. Cynder being the less dense of the two had figured it out immediately and had burst out laughing making a remark of “No promises!” accompanied by a little wagging of her claw. Classic Cynder mischievousness.  Perhaps needless to say Elora was caught between blushing red and fuming knowing it would have to be replaced within a week. She was wrong, and Spyro and Cynder had never did ‘that’ at least on that bed to respect her wishes. After all, an angry Elora was a very scary Elora indeed. But that was then and this was now. Cynder groaned into her pillow in frustration. In hindsight, she supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised really. Spike was probably a mess of issues, and as much as she wanted to him to love him, and call her mom within a week she knew it wasn’t happening. She knew she was a shortsighted fool, with plenty of wishful thinking to boot.  But she mused to herself, she honestly couldn’t be blamed. She wanted, like wanted more than anything else in the world to have a child to love and to cuddle and to call her own. This would just take time, that was all. Yeah, it was just going to take a bit longer before Spike accepted her.  She picked herself up off the bed and walked towards Spike’s room. Moaning about it would do nothing Cynder knew. If she ever wanted Spike to accept her as his new mother she would actually have to put in the effort. She found Spike absentmindedly playing with a toy raptor -Hunter’s gift of course- and sat herself down beside him draping a wing around the young drake. He was cute, with his purple scales, pudgy body and small green spines. About everything Cynder could have wanted really. “You… you okay kid?” she asked slowly. No need to rush this she reasoned. He would have to take this at his own pace.  “...Yeah… Um, I suppose…” Spike said softly not really sure what to think. On the one hand, here Cynder and her mate were taking the time out of their lives to care for him as if he was their own son. But on the other hand, they just weren’t… them. They weren’t his birth parents. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful or anything but he really wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. Cynder was nice enough he supposed but she just wasn’t… her. “I’m… I’m sorry, I just don’t really know what to say to you.” Cynder’s heart nearly melted. Torch above! Was she supposed to feel this way? Was she supposed to just feel this… well, sappy? She was supposed to be a tough dragoness, a Peacekeeper for crying out loud. And yet here she was wanting to hug this kid. Then again, she supposed it was going to happen eventually, her start to go soft. Goddess knew somehow Spyro of all drakes had melted her heart.  “It’s okay Spike, you can go ahead. Take your time,” Cynder said her wings drooping slightly. “I’m not going to rush you. N-Not that I had any intention of rushing you in the first place.” she stammered out realizing how that must have sounded. Goddess above, she must have sounded like such a fool! At first, Spike said nothing, choosing to take his time and squirm rather uncomfortably under his newfound adoptive mother’s gaze. Picking his words carefully, he finally spoke. “Well…” he said at last. “It's just that… I’m grateful for this. All of this, really, I am, but…” “Yeah, I gotcha. Just know I’m going to be here if you ever need me, okay kiddo?” Cynder asked. “This is your home now. Anything you need, me and Spyro will be here for you.” Spike nodded slowly. He began feeling a sort of… warmth (was it?) spreading throughout his body. He honestly didn’t know what to describe it as. He sighed to himself. It was hard trying to turn what he was feeling in his head into words in his mouth sometimes he’d found. And he knew very well what he was feeling in his heart right now, he just didn’t want to accept it so readily after their deaths.  “Is… Is that a sword Miss Cynder?” Spike asked curiously seeing the blade sheathed away in its holster. Cynder suppressed a sigh. She shouldn’t have been so surprised, but it was still frustrating to her. Miss Cynder he'd said. Not ‘Mother’, not ‘Mom’, or even ‘Mommy’, just Miss Cynder. So cold and clinical really. She’d expected this, she had just adopted Spike after only a week after he’d seen his parents die before his very eyes. It would be a long while probably before she was called something much more familiar or seen as such in his eyes. But still, it gnawed at her all the same. What would it take for him to see her as a mother, and not just Miss Cynder? Was she being selfish, she asked herself. Probably, she reasoned.  “Yes, it’s a sword. Forged by the finest smithers this side of Avalar!” Cynder cried sounding quite proud of herself. “It’s felled many a gnorc in it’s day! Between you and me… I call it… Will you promise not to tell?” “I promise,” Spike said with a small little nod not really sure what to think about any of this and how his adoptive parent was acting. Cynder leaned in closer and then whispered the name. “I call it… Lightbringer.” Cynder whispered as Spike blinked. “...Um, is that supposed to mean something?” he asked. “Why are you saying it in this uberly dramatic whisper voice? Are you expecting me to be blown away by awesomeness or have a dramatic thunderclap at the mentioning of its name?” Spike said almost in complete deadpan. Cynder gave him a flat stare. Well, at least it was something she supposed. “...Maybe a little,” Cynder admitted with a small sigh before in spite of herself she kissed Spike atop the forehead. Her voice softened.  “...You know, I was adopted as well. Same with Spyro. So, I guess in a way we do know a little about what you’re going through if not completely.” “Did… did you lose your parents too? Are they…?” Spike asked carefully sidestepping around the word ‘dead’. “Hell if I know. They could be gulping down rubies in some cave somewhere for all I know,” Cynder said. “On one hand I’d really like to know what happened to them, but on the other, I suspect that’s one door I’m not so ready to open. I’m content in any case. No, I never knew my parents. I was adopted as an infant by a family of dragonflies if you could believe it. Spent years thinking I was one of them till I started belching fire.” “...How… how do you miss the fact that you’re a fire snorting lizard with wings and claws?” Spike asked blinking slightly in confusion and Cynder had to suppress a snort. That was exactly the same question Spyro himself had asked almost to the letter. “...Actually, how did you take it when you found out?” “Oh, the usual any adopted child probably would have in my situation. Stomped, screamed and yelled at my parents for how they lied to me amongst other things. ...Yeah,” she said sucking in a breath. “Not one of my finest moments to tell you the truth. But you know what they said to me when all was said and done? I remember it to this day, even years after. They said to me: “You are our real daughter. It's just that you came from somewhere else.” Cynder said fighting back a small sniffle. “...Oh, I see,” Spike said. “Is… Is that what you think of me? Because… well, to be honest, I don’t know what to think of you right now.” “It’s okay kid,” Cynder smiled. “You just take your time. I wasn’t expecting you to warm up to me in an instance. Hell, I’m surprised you’ve taken to me this much as it is.” the dragoness continued. “...Anyways, I’ve got to go get a few things done. The Year of the Dragon Festival is fast approaching and that means I’ve got to be on guard for gnorcs and the like trying to snatch up eggs. Everyone in Peacekeepers is on high alert really. After the Sorceress, we do not want to drop our guard and be surprised ever again. Like I said, if you ever need anything, anything at all…” “Just come to you,” Spike said with another nod. “I’ll do that. Where can I find you?” “Festival grounds, near the stall that’s selling the flugelhorns. ...Really need to thank Princess Cadence for importing some of those out here by the way…” she muttered to herself as she walked off. As soon as she was out of supposed earshot, she was joined by Spyro who draped an orange wing around his mate. “...I heard everything. You okay?” the purple dragon asked. “Y...Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s… It’s just, I want him to be my son. Our son. After…” “Yeah, I understand. Shh…” Spyro whispered nuzzling her feeling Cynder start to shake. “It’s okay, let it out…” Then Cynder finally broke down whispering how she was seemingly cursed to never be a mother. Spyro knew where this had started. One year ago, Cynder had wanted a child and Spyro however reluctantly had agreed to it if just to make his mate the happiest dragoness on the planet. Sadly, there was a problem. As it turned out, it was physically impossible for the dragoness to bear a child. Some unknown trauma had rendered her completely infertile.  As Spyro held his mate, Spike had peeked in on a bout of curiosity and covered his mouth with a claw to hide his sharp gasp. Cynder… Cynder could never be a mother? Torch above, he felt like such a jerk. Here he was trying to figure out where Cynder stood in his life and if she could ever take the place of his real mother while Cynder herself desperately wanted a child to call her own. Clearly, Spike reasoned, this would require some thinking he mused to himself. A hell of a lot of thinking.  Neither of the two had noticed they’d been overheard. Spyro, after his mate had finally calmed down, explained his current situation. “...I went to the Dream Weavers earlier via a portal. To ask them about… you know. They said they didn’t give me that dream of… whoever or whatever that was.” “I thought you blamed that on just a bit of bad mutton,” Cynder said blinking slightly in confusion. Spyro had told her about this recurring dream of his, and for the most part, they’d paid it no mind. It was, after all, just a dream in the end. Clearly, Spyro was beginning to think otherwise if he’d gone directly to the Dream Weavers. “...Isn’t that what you said?” “To be honest? I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Spyro said. “Look, I know it sounds stupid but that thing in my dreams? It seems to know me almost personally, and the dream itself feels so damn real… Like, the most real dream in the world you could ever think of.” “Yeah, had a few that seemed pretty real myself. There was this one the other night that… well, I suppose I’ll leave that one up to your imagination, no?” Cynder said with a small wink. “But if you’re really that concerned, next time you have this dream or if you even have it again at all commit it to memory okay?” “Oh trust me, it’s the type of thing that’s sorta hard to forget…” Later that afternoon, Cynder took Spike for a trip around the festival to show him what kind of world he’d now entered. Bright, happy bagpipe and flute themed music mixed in with bongos played in the background as kites themed after various types of dragons were flown overhead. Spike was quite honestly, in heaven. He was excited and wanted to explore every which way. It was all Cynder could do to keep him from running off. Spike heard a chuckle from somewhere nearby. “Gnarly, ain’t it?” Flame -a bright red dragon with a striking resemblance to Spyro- said from nearby as he roasted sausages on his grill. Next to his chair rested an electric guitar in bright orange. “Best turnout we’ve had in years. And little dude, you got a front-row seat to all of this!” he said gesturing to the festival with a claw. “...Yeah, it’s certainly somethin’, I’ll give you that.” Spike said and in spite of himself made little finger guns with his claws. It was perhaps an attempt to look ‘cool’ in front of the slightly older drake. Flame could only laugh and make them right back at him.  “You’re alright little dude!” Flame said. “Hey Cyn, best you keep a watch on this one, he might grow up to outshine you!” he laughed. “Don’t bet on it Flame!” Cynder laughed back. “Hey, how’s Ember doing?” “Oh, still pestering me about that engagement ring. But me, I’m going to take life at my own pace brah,” Flame said resting his hands behind his head. “Don’t want to rush into anything, you understand?” “Yeah, yeah. Totally do,” Cynder said while Spike looked on. The public Cynder as he decided to call her was so different from the one he’d seen in private. Far more outgoing and somewhat carefree. Was she putting up a form of mask, or were there two Cynders? One only Spyro and himself got to see, and the one the rest of the world saw? It was all very confusing for the young drake really. Suddenly, he heard Flame let out a groan. “...Oh boy, here he comes… Though I managed to get this jackass to shoo!”  Spike looked confused for a second until he saw the reason. A tall, pale lanky dragon coming up the path. Mostly white in scale color, with light pink frills or whatever you called them. “Hey Fizzle,” Cynder said in a tone that clearly indicated she thought of the dragon with nothing else but possible unadulterated disgust. And Spike was about to find out exactly why. Sure, he was a handsome enough drake but… “Hey, who’s the brat?”  ...His personality left lots to be desired. “This brat as you call him, is my son. His name is Spike. Now, you got something to do, or do you want to piss off?” Cynder said stepping in front of Spike in a protective manner wings flared. Spike was soundly reminded that although Cynder was a nice enough sort for most of the time, she was still a Peacekeepers dragon and not someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. Clearly, this Fizzle hadn’t gotten the memo yet. “Lady Cynder? Cavorting with the lower class?! With young drakes no less!” Fizzle asked before letting out a sharp perhaps overly dramatic gasp. “Oh, by Tiamat’s divine wing!” He was also quite stupid, had I mentioned this yet? While most of these words went over young Spike’s head, Flame sucked in a breath and muttered: “Oh boy. Now he’s done it.” as the unsaid implications sunk in. He quickly covered Spike’s ears as a classic category 6 level Cynder hurricane began to brew and come to a boil. Spike looked towards Cynder, whose face had turned a quite interesting shade of red. Then the mountain that was her threatening to explode finally… well, did. “You… You…” the violet dragoness choked out now trembling with rage. “You… Insipid… Ignorant… IMBECILE!” she screamed letting out a breath of hot green flame that sent Fizzle running for the hills. “To accuse me of such a thing is… is… unforgivable! When I get my claws on you, you’ll wish you’ve never been born! Come back here and take your ass-kicking like a good drake!” “Yeah, go get him Cyn! Kick his ass three ways from Sunday, rip out his throat! Show that jackass who’s boss!” Flame shouting dancing around and jumping up and down like an idiot. You have expected him to chant: “Go Cynder, go Cynder!” or something like that.  “Oh, and by the way,” Flame said as he leaned down towards Spike who could only watch as Cynder chased Fizzle all around the festival grounds shooting him in the butt and making him cry tears of pain. “...If Cynder ever asks where you learned any of those words, deny everything. ...Actually, better yet? Don’t repeat them for a least a few years okay?” Then a pink dragoness slightly younger than Cynder -about fifteen or so, sixteen at best- walked up looking quite confused. Turning to Flame, she raised an eyebrow. “...Wow, looks like a real storm blew through here.” Flame rubbed the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “...Um… yeah, something like that really.”  “You know anything about this?” Ember asked as she gestured to Fizzle now running past them with Cynder still in hot pursuit cursing and swearing up a storm and threatening violence. She if anything was quite persistent when someone ticked off. “Um… Maybe a little Em. Best we uh…” “Stay out of her way?” Ember asked before nodding. “Yeah, seems best.” It was then she took notice of Spike and pulled him into a hug pinching his cheeks. In another life, Spike would probably compare this to his first meeting with Fluttershy. “Oh, you’re so cute. Oh, we’ve just got to dress you up in the cuutttttteeeesssstttt clothes!” Spike suddenly wished he was still with Fizzle.  Later, he found himself pinched and prodded at by Ember who as it turned out ran the local boutique, the pink dragoness trying to find the best possible outfit for young Spike. First, she tried robes, to make him look ‘simply majestic’ in her own words and then a few jackets. Flame had offered up a leather jacket and shades but Ember had vetoed that outright swatting it out of his claws. Making Spike look like a thug had no place in her store! Spike once again felt that strange sort of warmth bubbling up inside him. He admitted he actually liked Cynder coming to his aid, and defending him even if he wasn’t quite sure what exactly had set her off. It felt… nice really. For just a brief moment, Spike felt like he had a mother again. Fighting back a sniffle he turned towards Ember. “Is it alright to be confused about Cynder?” Spike asked with a small sigh. “I mean, she’s very… weird. Weird, but in a good way. Not quite sure how to put it into words, I mean. I mean, I just can’t decide on how-” “You feel about her?” Ember said running a tape measure over his belly. She knew, just like about everyone else in Spyro’s circle of Spike’s situation. “Listen, she’s just looking out for you, ya know. Sure, Cynder’s a bit on the scary side and somewhat unapproachable -though this may just be to me given I used to have a teeny little crush on her husband- but she’s cool. Like, uber-cool. Makes me pretty jealous actually, and not just because of whom she happens to be mates with. Look, the point is, anyone with half a brain can tell she loves you as her own son. Her and Spyro.” “But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Spike said. “I mean, after my mother, I don’t know if have room in my heart for-” “Listen,” Ember said softly. “Your mother will always be with you, in your heart. Yeah, sure you miss her. Any sane or rational drake would. But she'll always be with you, as long as you remember the things she taught you. In a way, you'll never be apart, for you are still part of each other. And as for Cynder… well, you need not be born into a family to be loved by one don’t you think?” “I… I think so… Yeah….” Spike murmured with a small nod of his head not really quite sure what to think. He got the general gist of what Ember was trying to say but he didn't know what to think of it exactly. “What would you want me to do… Mom?” Spike asked himself before another voice cut through the air. “Geez, Emms,” Cynder said as she walked into the boutique with a raised eyebrow. “What you trying to do, turn Spike into your own personal dress-up doll?” “Hey, he can be pretty if he wants!” Ember declared. “Just because you think this sorta stuff is beneath you and all frou-frou doesn't mean Spikey here does!” “Spikey?” both Flame and Cynder thought with small sweatdrops. “Spikey?” Ember asked sweetly. “Tell Emms what you think of all this.” “I could care less actually,” Spike commented with a small shrug of his shoulders and Flame facepalmed. Spike winced when he saw Ember's infuriated face. Bad move man, he thought to himself and quickly backtracked. “But… but I suppose it's not so bad I guess?” Ember looked much more satisfied by that remark and gave off an approving nod for good measure. “That's better,” she said. “So, is Fizzle nursing a burned as- sorry, burned butt now?” Flame asked quickly correcting himself upon Cynder’s stern glare. “Last I saw he was trying to cool himself off in a river. I don’t think he’ll be bothering Spike anytime soon.” Cynder said with a small smirk that made everyone back up a few steps. “Gnarly,” Flame said before asking: “You’re scary, you know that right Cynder?”  “Damn right.” As a final part of the day, Cynder took Spike through a portal into another part of the dragon realms. Normally, she could just fly there, but she was unsure on the fact just how grown Spike's wings actually were given she'd never seen him use them really. Plus she didn't she fancy having him ride on her back and hold on for dear life. So a portal it was. “Oh, look at me… I’ve become the possibly overprotective mom,” Cynder thought to herself with a small smile as she thought about this and on the day’s prior events. “Didn’t even know I had it in me…” Spike for his part nearly threw up upon exiting the portal and Cynder patted him on the back. “It’s okay kid, it’s pretty much like that for all of us on our first time. Pretty sure I projectile vomited on my first usage. Point is, you get used to it… eventually.” Cynder declined to mention she had never gotten used to those damned things and tried to avoid them if at all possible. She sighed to herself in resignation. Looks like for the next few years, at the very least, she’d just have to grin and bear it.  Walking slightly woozily, she stepped onto the stone pathway that led down into the icy caverns. Spike for his part was amazed, not even knowing Peace Keepers held such a secret and was making goofy faces in the icy walls that surrounded him. Crystals glinted and glittered in the warm light coming up from above, sparkling and creating quite the light show. “So, what are we down here for Cynder?” Spike asked once he was done goofing off, having shouted into the abyss just to see how far his voice carried throughout the caverns. Cynder sighed to herself, looks like he still wasn’t calling her mom just yet. “Gem hunting. Friend of mine in Magic Crafters needs a few hundred gems for some experiment of his -mad scientists, the lot of ‘em!- and both me and your dad have been… uh, pitching in your might say to give him a hand.” “Yummy…” Spike said rubbing his hands together and licking his lips at the thought. “...No eating the gems okay Spike?” Cynder said before smiling to herself. He was just like her at that age. “...Oh look at me, I have become such a sap haven’t I?”  “So… Uh... “ Spike began not really knowing how to pose this question so he decided he’d just be upfront about it. “You… Uh, can’t have kids of your own can you?” “How did you…” Cynder started her eyes widening in surprise. “...Oh, you saw that, didn’t you? Me, blubbering like a fool towards Spyro. Goddess, I must have looked so pathetic.” Spike simply hugged her leg. “...No, it’s okay. I’m beginning to sorta understand why you took me in.” “No, it’s not just that. It wasn’t just so I could have a child. It was because you needed a mother,” Cynder corrected as she used her claws to rip open some of the ice to reveal shining, sparkling gems of every color imaginable. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have in good conscience have let you gone to some orphanage. Tomas is sweet, but he’s often overwhelmed by the little guys. And to be honest, even as well-maintained as that orphanage is, it’s not exactly the world’s best substitute for a…” “...Real family,” Spike whispered in a voice almost too soft to hear.  “Yeah yeah, y’all are such saps, we get it,” a scratchy voice said and both Cynder and Spike turned to see this orange dragoness about Spike’s age -maybe older- pulling a cart of gems behind her. She was dressed in an adorable little sweater and earmuffs. “You’re really cute. By and by, if you’re going to have a family conversation better not broadcast it in these caves for all to hear. I mean, your voice goes a loooooooongggggg way.” “Yes, well, you shouldn’t have eavesdropped!” Spike said in a huff snorting out two little puffs of green flame from his nostrils. “Ooh, little spitfire aren’t you?” the orange dragoness said with a small chuckle. “Look, I’m sorry. I admit I probably shouldn’t have been listening in. Apologies?” she asked sticking out her hand. “Want me to spit swear or something?” “Apologies and no thank you! By the way ...Who are you again?” Spike asked scratching his head in confusion and bewilderment.  “Friends call me Smolder,” the young dragoness introduced herself. “And you are?” “Play dumb, she could be an enemy after your gems! She could have stolen those from other dragons!” Spike thought rapidly.  “...Okay, my name certainly isn’t Spike and you are certainly not encroaching on my mother’s haul!” Spike squeaked out and then mentally facepalmed. “Not that dumb!” Smolder for her part just burst out laughing. “Okay. Mr. Certainly Not Spike, won’t say a word. But seriously, I know who you are. You’re pretty much the talk of the realms. You and your adoptive parents.” “...Yeah, not sure if I’m ready to call them that just yet…” Spike murmured. To his surprise, Cynder had walked off probably to go hunting for more gems. Either that or she was watching from the shadows ready to strike in case Smolder did something stupid. Probably the latter, overprotective as she was. “Suit yourself, because you’re certainly acting like Cynder is your mommy,” Smolder remarked. “But seriously, I’m nowhere near stupid enough to steal from the Terror of the Skies’ haul. My dumbshit brother on the other hand… well, he’s probably another story.” “You shouldn’t use that word…” Spike trailed off. “...What? Dumbshit?” Smolder laughed. “Dumbshit! Dumbshit! Not like rocks fall and everyone dies horribly if I say it. Seriously, man, you have got to lighten up. Go on dude, enjoy yourself.” “...Cynder scares me, and I’d rather not be punished.” Spike said. “You’re such a momma’s boy,” Smolder giggled. “Well, see ya around Spike. I’ve gotta get these gems back to Beast Makers and uncle Bubba. Laters!” she said before dragging her cart off through a nearby portal. “Well, she seems nice,” Cynder said as she -surprise surprise- walked out of the shadows pulling a minecart of her own loaded down with gems. “So, is my boy taken with her already? Does he have a friend?” “...She’s a jerk, that’s what she is,” Spike huffed with a small cross of his arms. “She’s RUDE!” “Eh, she’s just like that just because she likes you. Trust me, that’s how it starts. First, the hair pulling and then… welp… Spike and Smolder, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” “S-Shut up!” Spike stammered out with a small blush. “Anyways, don’t we have plenty of other gems to go and find? I mean, it’s a big ice cavern -and by the way, I still want to hear how this place can form in a desert- and there’s probably lots of areas to search. That is, if she hasn’t cleared the place out already…” he huffed with a small cross of his arms. Cynder threw back her head and laughed. “Trust me, I know these caves better than anyone, except perhaps the dragons who live here full time. Not sure what sane dragon would want to live in an ice cave but… Anyways, I’m getting off track here. Look at me, starting to ramble. Seriously though, I know more secrets about these caves than that little one even would find in a week of searching.” “...So the day’s still young is it?” Spike asked rubbing his claws together. “Well, I say bring it on…” “That’s the spirit! I’ll make an adventurer out of you yet kiddo!” Cynder called. “Come along now! Lots to do yet!” “Oh, by the way, how’d you earn the nickname Terror of the Skies…?” “Oh, it involves me, a platoon of Gnorcs and a little side job in Gnorc Gnexus…”