//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Aftermaths // Story: Dawn of a New Age // by GTthe4th //------------------------------// (Whitetail Woods) Even though he was born in a swamp, where vegetation and the local fauna were natural things to discover and see, it never ceased to amaze Spyro at just how much variety there was. Rabbits, squirrels, foxes, birds, insects, they all were so unique in their own way, as were the plants. Ferns, moss, fungi, flowers, birches, oaks, pines, maples, and more, it was all right here. There was so much to see, smell, and touch, and he couldn’t hold Cynder back even if he wanted to. Even just by looking at her he could tell that she was in heaven. He smiled at the thought of seeing her prancing about like a gazelle. She, of course, was far too dignified to even think about doing something like that, but he could tell the thought had crossed her mind at least once or twice. Still, her eyes were wide as she studied the world around her, looking under every log and stone to see the writhing worms and crawling bugs underneath with the same curious fascination he had experienced when he was younger, when he was exploring or playing with Sparx in the swamp where they used to live. Spyro’s smile fell slightly as he remembered those days. They were so innocent back then, never really knowing what lay beyond the boundaries of the swamp. In those days, the most the two adoptive brothers had to worry about was being eaten by a Frogweed. It was only until later that they were thrust into chaos, fighting for their lives at every turn, worrying about the next day and wondering if they’d ever survive to see their parents again. He slowed his pace, letting Cynder walk ahead of him. He never saw Nina and Flash again after the day he and Sparx left the swamp. They had raised him as their own, even though they knew what he was. They knew he would bring trouble someday, but they loved him anyway, just like they loved Sparx. And then when Spyro, Cynder, and Sparx became trapped in crystal for three years, he never heard from them again. The swamp was gone, transformed into the Burned Lands under Malefor’s rule. He hoped...he prayed that they and the other Dragonflies made it out in time. Spyro sighed and shook his head. Cynder was right, they both needed some time to relax and enjoy the world around them once again. Worry and fear had plagued his mind for far too long. Cynder suddenly crouched low to the ground and tucked her wings close, side-stepping quickly off the path to hide behind a fallen tree. Puzzled, Spyro did the same and whispered out the side of his mouth, “What is it?” “Look!” Cynder whispered excitedly back, nodding forward. Spyro looked ahead and saw a young fawn stepping out the underbrush across the path, his long legs shaking as he moved. Behind him, a doe followed, watching for anything amiss around them. She hadn’t noticed the two Dragons, thankfully. “They’re beautiful,” Cynder mouthed, her eyes shining. Spyro nodded with a smile. “Yes, they are.” The two Dragons watched the doe and her fawn for a while until they moved on, moving further into the forest. Interestingly enough, Spyro thought he saw the doe’s mouth moving as if she was speaking to her fawn, but it was only for a moment, and it might have been a trick of the light. Either way, the path was now clear, so he and Cynder continued on their way. Once more their walk fell into silence as they both admired the wild beauty around them, only to be interrupted when Cynder suddenly craned her neck towards him. “Spyro, can I ask you something?” “Sure.” Cynder stopped and turned to him fully, sitting down on the ground. “What do you want to do, now that the world’s been saved?” Spyro paused and thought about it, settling down on his haunches. “You know, I’ve never really thought about it until now. I guess I was more concerned by the plight of the world to think about my own needs.” “I know, which is why it’s so important to ask it now,” Cynder said with a nod. “Honestly...I don’t know what I’ll do now. Obviously go back to Warfang and help rebuild, but after that, I just don’t know,” he sighed. “I suppose I always figured that Ignitus had a plan for me, but now that he’s gone...” He watched as Cynder scooted closer to him and cover his back with a comforting wing. “Even if he did, he wouldn’t want you to despair over him.” “I know, I know...it’s just hard, Cynder. So many gave their lives so that we could save the rest of the world, and Ignitus was the last one to do so,” Spyro replied in bitterness. “Losing him almost made me lose myself. It was because of me that he was forced to abandon the other Guardians to keep my egg safe. It was because of me that Malefor waged his war against the Dragons. It was because of me that...that Malefor stole and corrupted you. And then it was because of me that Ignitus died so that we could live to fight another day. A full circle.” Her wing pressed tighter around him. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for anything that happened, not the war, not Malefor, and not Ignitus’s death. He knew that none of it was your fault, and he knew the risks when he chose to save us from the fires. To him, protecting you was not just his duty, it was his calling.” “But then what about you? Your life was ruined because of the color of my egg.” Cynder sighed and let her head droop slightly. “Purple egg or not, Malefor would’ve still laid siege to the old Dragon Temple and destroyed the eggs. If anything, you being the purple Dragon saved me as an egg, because Malefor needed someone to counter you until he was freed. Had you not been born, I wouldn’t be here either, nor would the entire world. I may have been lost, Spyro, but it was also you who saved me.” “And then it was you who saved me from myself when I wanted to go back for Ignitus...” Spyro finished, closing his eyes. Cynder put a claw under his chin and smiled. “I owe Ignitus everything for saving you, Spyro, and so I’ll mourn him alongside you, but I will also celebrate his memory and honor his spirit. He was proud of you, and he would’ve been prouder now. Never forget that.” Spyro shook his head slowly. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face as he opened his eyes. “And yet I’m still here,” Cynder replied, smiling back and standing up. “Come on, let’s go flying.” “Yeah...flying sounds good right now,” Spyro agreed, following her off the path until they found a clearing from which they could take off. They spread their wings and flapped, sending leaves and twigs flying in all directions as they spiralled into the sky, soaring above the clouds with grace and enthusiasm. “Where to?” Spyro called to her as they broke into a slow glide. “East,” Cynder called over her shoulder, flapping once more to get more height. “Let’s go home.” “I thought you wanted to see the world a little more first?” Spyro wondered aloud as he fell into place next her. “I do,” she answered with a smirk. “But I can see a lot from here. And besides, we don’t have to go fast. We have all the time in the world.” “Well, in that case...” Spyro smirked back and then tapped her on the shoulder with a talon. “You’re it!” “Wha--?” Cynder started, before watching as Spyro dove to the ground. She shook her head and dove after him, laughing playfully. “Oooooh, it’s on now, Purple Boy!” (Canterlot Castle) “I’m just going to pretend we’re not having this conversation right now.” “Come now, darling, don’t tell me the thought hasn’t once crossed your mind?” “No, no it hasn’t.” “Twilight, you’re a terrible liar.” “Don’t confuse me for Applejack,” Twilight deadpanned. “Don’t bring me into this, please, for the love of Faust, don’t...” Applejack muttered off to the side, hiding her eyes under her stetson. “An’ for the record Rares, Twilight ain’t lyin’.” “But he’s a dream!” Rarity cried, catching the attention of the guards near her. She shrank back with a blush and composed herself. “Those violet eyes, that carefully-trimmed mane, those wings, that build! Oh, why do all the captains of the military look so dashing?” “It’s a mystery for the ages, ma’am,” one of the Solar Guards said in a dreamy voice, only to get whacked upside the head by one of his buddies next to him. Ignoring him, Rarity continued, “Honestly Twilight, you need to pull your face out of the books for once and start looking around for proper suitors. Who better than one of the finest soldiers in the land?” Twilight sighed and put down the book she was reading. “First of all, you’re interrupting a good Daring Do novel for this? And second, even if I wanted to go around ‘looking for suitors’, as you say, the chances of me ending up with Shield Wall are about as likely as me ending up with one of Fluttershy’s blue jay pets.” “Actually,” Fluttershy spoke up. “A lot of the little birdies in my home have told me that they think you’re very pretty.” Twilight facehooved. “That was rhetorical, Fluttershy...” “O-oh, sorry.” “What’s taking the captain so long, anyway?” Rainbow asked, landing down next to them. “We’ve been stuck in this hallway waiting for him to come out of the throne room for ages!” “It’s only been ten minutes, Rainbow,” Starlight noted. “Ages, I say!” Pinkie giggled and held out a hoof to Rarity, who growled and deposited five bits onto it. Pinkie bounced twice and stuffed the bits into her mane. “Rarity, I know you’re the Element of Generosity and all that, but you’ve gotta stop making bets against AJ and Pinkie,” Spike snickered. “They’re gonna bleed you dry at this rate.” “Thin ice, Spikey-Wikey. Thin. Ice.” “Message received,” said Spike. “Was this window always here?” Applejack suddenly asked, drawing everypony’s attention to her. The other mares got up off their waiting benches and trotted next to her, looking up at a large, stained glass window that showed the aftermath of their battle with Nightmare Moon. Celestia and Luna were embracing in joy, with the moon raised high next to the sun behind them, and the Mane Six were bowing respectfully to both rulers while wearing their respective Elements. It was a beautiful work of art, with colors that bathed each of them in a rainbow, and Rarity’s eyes sparkled with wonder upon seeing it. “This...this is magnificent!” she cried. “And a fine replacement for the window that used to sit here. I must know who designed it so that I could shake their hoof!” “It wasn’t really designed,” said a motherly voice from behind them. “More like...redesigned.” “Princess!” Twilight exclaimed, running up and embracing Celestia as she, Luna, and Shield Wall approached from the now-open throne room doors. “It’s wonderful to see you all again,” Celestia said, returning Twilight’s hug with a warm smile. “And as for who made the window...” She bobbed her head towards Luna, who gave a small wave. “Princess Luna, you made this?” Rarity asked, looking between her and the window. Luna nodded. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that Celestia wasn’t in the happiest of moods the other night. She came here to reflect, and saw the window that used to be here.” Celestia took over from there: “Memories of the day when my sister and I fought flooded back, and I...I’m ashamed to admit I nearly lost myself in them once again.” She looked at Luna with love in her eyes. “And then who should stop me from doing something I would regret but little Lulu here? She and I talked it over and said a few things that needed to be said, and when I looked up...” She pointed to the window with a hoof. “There it was.” Luna smirked. “I stand by what I said, sister. ‘Tis but a trick of the moonlight.” “Princess Luna, this is beautiful!” Starlight remarked. “You never told us you were an artist.” “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice,” Luna replied, putting a hoof to her chest. “Those stars in the night sky aren’t just for show, you know.” Shield Wall coughed politely into his hoof. “Your Highnesses, I hate to interrupt, but they’re waiting.” Celestia sighed. “Right, of course. Thank you, Shield, you’re dismissed.” Shield Wall saluted and walked away. Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Who’s waiting, Princess?” “I’m sorry ladies, but I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans,” Celestia explained. “The nobles don’t want to wait until tomorrow for their meeting. They’ve moved it up to now.” Rainbow and Pinkie groaned, Applejack shook her head, and Fluttershy rolled her eyes skyward. Only Rarity, Starlight, Spike, and Twilight didn’t seem surprised. “What’s their reason this time?” Twilight asked. “Do they need a reason?” Luna shrugged. “Fair point.” “My advice is to just let them have their moment,” Celestia said. “Once they’re satisfied with what they’ve heard, they’ll let you go, and then you can relax for the rest of the day. Luna and I will be outside if you need us.” “Well then, we’ll make it quick and to the point,” Twilight declared, trotting towards the throne room. “Come on girls, let’s get this over with.” “Yes, let’s,” Rarity agreed. “The museum won’t stay open forever, and I intend on going there today.” The mares all marched (or in Rainbow’s case, flew) into the throne room with purpose, steeling themselves for whatever happened next. Three Unicorn stallions stood in the enormous hall, conversing quietly among themselves until they noticed Twilight’s entourage enter. One of them, Count Fancy Pants, was finely-dressed in a black tailcoat and golden-chained monocle, having silvery fur and a faded blue mane, with a rather distinguished moustache adorning his smiling face. The second was much younger --- somewhere in his mid-twenties, if Twilight had to guess --- with light grey fur and a charcoal black mane, and was wearing glasses and a green shirt and sweater tied around his neck. This had to have been Baron Jet Set. It was the third Unicorn that caught the most attention of the mares, however, and their eyes narrowed in disdain at the sight of him. He was tall, towering over the other two stallions, and had a larger build as well. His fur was pristine white and his curly mane a glorious golden yellow. He wore a blue bow tie, and a small blue chrysanthemum rested on the right flap of his black lapel. This was Prince Blueblood, Duke of Canterlot, and one of the most politically powerful Ponies in all of Equestria. He wasn’t just the leader of the Cantelrot nobility, he was their poster boy, their ambassador to other nations, and their golden standard. It was enough to drive Rarity mad at the sight, but she managed to contain herself. Barely. “Well it’s about time!” Jet Set exclaimed haughtily, stepping forward and hardening his gaze at Twilight. “Your Highness, I must protest these delays, and on behalf of the Canterlot baronies, I must also demand to know the full story behind this Changeling crisis. It’s simply scandalous, and--” Fancy Pants stepped up, wiping down his monocle. “Now now, baron, we mustn’t demand anything of Her Highness. You and I both know that none of this was her fault. Do be a gentlestallion and apologize.” “Apologize for what? For wanting to know the truth?” Jet Set retorted. “Phaugh! We all know the Changelings are just playing us for fools. They’re hiding something, and these commoners are covering it up! We cannot let this stand!” “That’s enough, Jet,” Blueblood said calmly, stepping in front of him and glaring down at him. “Whether the Changelings are playing a long game, it doesn’t matter right now. You’ve just implied that Princess Twilight, her companions, the other Princesses, and the military are all conspiring against all of Equestria with our enemies. Not only would this be treason according to law, it would also be absurd. And besides that, you’ve just insulted the Element Bearers to their face, and that is something I cannot condone.” He turned his gaze towards Twilight and the others, and to the surprise of everypony, his gaze softened. “I must beg your forgiveness, ladies. Baron Jet Set is merely...concerned over our lack of information regarding the situation, and only wants what is best for Equestria so that we can be assured that your untimely capture never happens again.” Twilight, taken aback at Blueblood’s earnest apology on behalf of the irate baron, let her jaw drop slightly. She tried to form words, but none came to mind, so she instead mutely nodded, which seemed to satisfy the Duke. “Excellent. Now that that’s over with, we can begin. But before we do, I have one other thing to say,” Blueblood said, turning to Rarity. Rarity froze as their eyes met, and she felt her legs stiffen as he took a step towards her. Noticing her distress, Blueblood stopped and bowed his head towards her, his eyes closed. “Lady Rarity, words cannot express how sorry I am for my horrid behavior during our meeting at the Grand Galloping Gala a few years ago. As Duke of Canterlot, it was nothing less than me at my worst, and it is not who I am. Truthfully, there is no excuse I could give that you or your friends would accept, so I will make none. “I know that we got off to a bad start, and that I was a selfish cad, but I wish to make amends and to start over with a clean slate. Not as suitors, and perhaps not even as friends at first, though I would very much like that, but rather, as acquaintances. We can work our way up from there, if that is your wish. I will respect whatever decision you make, and I offer myself freely to you as a measure of good faith.” With his speech finished, Blueblood opened his eyes and looked at Rarity once more, offering his hoof with a small, hopeful smile. Twilight was stunned, as were the rest of her friends. None of them had ever expected this to come from any noble’s mouth, much less Blueblood of all Ponies. And what’s more, he sounded genuine, which only perplexed them further. Applejack frowned and wondered if Blueblood was actually telling the truth, or if he was telling a lie so good that even she couldn’t detect it. Pinkie and Fluttershy seemed to accept his words at face value, and smiled back at him. Rainbow still looked suspicious, but didn’t say a word. Starlight and Spike simply watched in silence. Rarity looked at the hoof being offered to her, then back up at Blueblood, her expression unreadable. She reached forward... ...And slapped Blueblood with such force that it not only snapped his neck to the side (causing everypony else in the room to wince), it also left a red welt on his cheek and caused a small trickle of blood to emerge from his lip. Shocked, Blueblood rubbed his cheek and turned his head back around to face her again. His eyes bore a hurt but understanding look. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said at last. “Yes, yes you did,” Rarity said. She then opened up the saddlebags on her back and pulled out a handkerchief with her magic, hovering it over to him and wiping the blood of his face. “But I would be remiss in my duties and morality as the Element of Generosity if I didn’t heed your words, Duke. I think it’ll be a long time until I truly forgive you for what you put me and my friends through during the Gala...but I’m willing to give you a second chance, if you will accept it. Don’t waste it.” Fancy Pants smiled and tipped his head towards Rarity in respect. He was happy to see that her convictions had not been lost since the last time he had seen her. Blueblood’s smile returned, and he bowed his head again. “I am honored, Lady Rarity. Rest assured that I will not waste this opportunity, nor will I forget this moment. If you ever need a favor, I and all the resources of the nobility are at your disposal.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Now then, I do believe we have something to discuss?” “What?” Twilight asked mutely, before shaking her head and stammering, “O-oh, right, of course. What do you need to know?” “The truth,” Jet Set answered with derision. “And not just any truth, I want to hear it from the Element of Honesty herself.” He set his eyes on Applejack, and the farmer greeted his scowl with one of her own. “I want you, Lady Applejack, to tell all of us here and now your opinion on the Changelings. Are they ‘good’ now, as the reports say? Can this King Thorax be trusted? Is there any chance that Queen Chrysalis will return to wreak havoc upon our fair kingdom again?” The others turned to Applejack, and for a moment she looked nervous at all the attention, only to feel a hoof on her shoulder. She looked over and saw Rainbow hovering next to her, giving her a confident smirk. Applejack returned the smirk and mouthed a quick “thank you” her way, before looking back at the baron. “Ah’ll answer as truthfully as Ah can to the best of mah ability. Yes, from what Ah can tell, the Changelings are all reformed, or at least, all the ones we saw. There may be more out there that weren’t affected by Thorax’s transformation, but we don’t know that for sure.” She let out a sigh and continued, “As for Thorax himself, he ain’t just a friend, he’s a hero. He was scared, he was alone, an’ he was ostracized by both parties involved. An’ yet despite all that, he risked everythin’, even his own life, to help save Equestria by rescuin’ us. He knew that goin’ back into that Hive might’ve meant his own death, yet he still went in without hesitation an’ without complaint. Now don’t that just beat all?” “I didn’t ask you to spout off a load of frivolous manure, I asked for the facts, the truth!” Jet Set demanded. Applejack stomped a hoof and snorted. “Ah’m tellin’ ya the truth, darn it! Ah tell it just like Ah see it. Thorax is a ‘ling who’d die to protect a Pony, an’ that to me is more than Ah can say for most of ya nobles. Ah believe him when he says he wants peace between his Hive an’ us, an’ Ah won’t stand to see his sacrifice, loyalty, an’ bravery be mocked or questioned. If y’all want a witch hunt, go find somepony else.” Fancy Pants and Blueblood gave her some polite applause by rapidly stamping their forehooves on the carpeted floor, and the count chuckled. “Bravo, Lady Applejack! I daresay that was quite the speech, standing up for a friend like that.” Applejack tipped her stetson his way and grinned. Jet Set’s scowl grew deeper. “Still,” Blueblood continued after him. “The third question remains: what of Chrysalis?” Twilight sighed. “We don’t know. Chrysalis escaped after her throne was destroyed, and the last we saw of her, she was flying north across the Badlands. She could be anywhere by now, but she doesn’t have her Hive anymore, which means she has far fewer resources to fall back on. For the time being, I don’t think we have to worry about her.” “But, as you say, you’re not sure,” Fancy Pants noted, putting a hoof under his chin. “And therefore, it would be prudent to keep a watchful eye, and perhaps even send out several Pegasi search teams to scour Equestria for any trace of the disgraced Queen. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?” Twilight shrugged. “I suppose. It couldn’t hurt.” Blueblood gave a sharp nod of affirmation. “Splendid! I do believe I’m satisfied with the results of this meeting. I hereby call for a vote to end things here.” “What?!” Jet Set cried out in dismay. “I concur,” Fancy Pants agreed, winking at Rarity. “With the Element of Honesty’s statement, as well as the detailed reports made by the various branches of the Royal Equestrian Legion, I think we have enough information to write a report of our own.” “Very well, all those in favor of leaving these ladies in peace to have their relaxation time instead of wasting their time with politics, say ‘aye’. Aye!” “Aye!” Fancy Pants raised a hoof. “What? Nay, nay!” Jet Set sputtered. “We don’t have nearly enough--” “The aye’s have it, the motion is carried,” Blueblood interjected quickly, immense glee on his face. “Meeting adjourned. Enjoy your day, ladies.” Twilights jaw dropped for a second time. “Uuuuh...” Fancy Pants chuckled and moved past the shocked mares. “Apologies, but I must be going now. There’s a few representatives from Ho Chi Mane and Trotsylvania that I’m having over at my estate to discuss their most recent complaints against the Diarchy with, so I shall see you all later. Good day, everypony.” With a flourish of his hoof, he bowed and excused himself from the throne room, leaving the door open behind him. Jet Set sent Blueblood a look that could have caused a volcano to erupt. “This isn’t over, Blueblood. You’ve made a mockery of this meeting, and have slandered my good name in front of others and have shown clear signs of--” “Oh, spare me your petulant whining, Jet Set,” Blueblood groaned, rolling his eyes, as he stepped towards the smaller, younger baron. “I’ve heard enough of it today, and I’ve heard it all before. Oh Blueblood, I shall have my revenge! This is the last time you’ll humiliate me, Blueblood! This isn’t the last you’ve heard of me, Blueblood!” He let out a laugh as he stopped inches away from Jet Set. “I tire of it.” “When my mother hears of this...” Jet Set hissed. “Ah yes, Countess White Rose, a fine mare, if a bit persnickety. Go back running to your little mommy to blab about Big Bully Blueblood, see if I care. And why should I? You have nothing. You can say nothing, because you are nothing.” Jet Set had begun to take a few steps back, but Blueblood was persistent. “I was navigating the tempestuous oceans of politics when you were but a gleam in your parents’ eyes. When I was six, I was learning how to fence with Field Marshal Thundershock. When I was seven, I was taught the finer arts of diplomacy. ALL of them! When I was eight, I negotiated our first trade deal with the Yaks. When I was ten, I re-negotiated the peace treaty between us and the Griffons, and gave Ambassador Grimm such a scar under his left eye after he insulted Princess Celestia’s honor as a mare that he still winces whenever he hears my name. And when I was eleven...you were in diapers, and I was leading Day Court when Celestia was indisposed. Go home, Jet Set, and think on these things. And while you’re there, give my love to your dearest mother, and tell her that I will be immensely delighted to visit her estate tonight for her garden party. Good day.” With that, Blueblood spun on his hooves and marched out of the throne room, his chin held up high and proud, while Jet Set was left staring slack-jawed at his back. The younger baron muttered something dark under his breath before following him, casting a dirty glare at the Element Bearers as he went. After the stallions left the room, the mares and Spike all stared at each other in silence, none of them knowing what to say about what they just witnessed. It was a mixed bag for all of them, they internally decided one after another. On the one hoof, they were all actually impressed with Blueblood’s willingness to defend them, but on the other hoof, it was Blueblood. Celestia and Luna walked into the throne room with smiles on their faces and mischievous looks in their eyes. Celestia leaned down over Twilight and giggled. “So, how’d it go?” she asked. “Blueblood has certainly changed a lot,” Rarity answered before Twilight could even think of a response. “Don’t be too hard on him, Rarity,” Celestia said. “He actually hasn’t changed all that much.” “But Princess, how can ya say that? What about the Gala?” Applejack asked. “Yes, I keep hearing about this, but nopony’s ever told me what happened,” Starlight added, raising a hoof. “Care to fill me in?” Celestia sighed. “It was an unfortunate and miserable farce he had to put on. It was before your time, Starlight, when Twilight was still a Unicorn and when her friends were still rather new to the wider world. You see, as Duke, it was part of Blueblood’s duty to know what goes on throughout Equestria, and when he caught wind of six Element Bearers, he became intrigued. And then he was delighted when he heard that you had saved Luna and returned her to her proper place at my side. It meant one more aunt for him to dote on.” Luna smiled and hugged Celestia with a wing, and Celestia nuzzled her cheek. Rarity looked puzzled. “But...then why...?” “It was the other nobles,” Celestia answered her. “They grew restless and jealous over your rising fame, and they knew about Blueblood’s support for your group. When they found out, they accused him of showing favoritism, and threatened to unseat him as Duke if he couldn’t remain neutral and unbiased. So, he did the only thing he could: he pretended to not care one whit about any of you, and purposefully made a scene so as to appease the nobility enough for them to get off his back. It was a gamble, and had he not planned or improvised as well as he did, it probably wouldn’t have worked. But it did.” “He took a personal hit to his pride and his honor so that he could remain in power as Duke, and therefore support you from the shadows while maintaining an outward appearance of perfect neutrality,” Luna finished, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. “The nobles never challenged him again.” Twilight’s jaw fell for a third time, and this time Spike caught it in one of his claws and closed it for her with a roll of his eyes. “That’s...that’s...” she murmured. “Genius.” Everypony turned to Rarity in shock, and Rarity stared back. “I stand by what I said. It was a brilliant move, and we all played our parts perfectly. He manipulated everypony around him, including us, so that he could continue to be an ally that we never knew about. No wonder why the nobility never really bothered us since then, he must’ve been stonewalling them from doing anything!” Then her face fell. “Still...while I may find it in myself to forgive him in light of this new revelation, it’ll still be a while until I’m ready for that.” “I’m sure he will understand,” Celestia said, before clapping her forehooves together. “Now then, if we’re finished here, you all now have the rest of the day to yourselves, and with the nobles out of the way for the time being, it also frees up much of tomorrow as well. Enjoy your rest, my friends!” Rarity’s eyes shot up, and so did the corners of her mouth. “The museum! It should still be open. Come Starlight, Applejack, and Pinkie, we must see it at once!” she cried, grabbing the aforementioned mares with a levitation spell and galloping out of the room before any of them could say anything. The throne room doors slammed shut behind her, and they heard several startled yells from the guards as they were steamrolled by the charging Unicorn. Twilight and everypony else merely watched the spectacle with unblinking eyes and expressionless faces. Fluttershy looked at Twilight and raised a questioning hoof. “Did...did Rarity just kidnap them?” she squeaked. “Yep,” Rainbow replied, lazily hovering upside down above them. Spike faceplamed, and the three Princesses let out a shared laugh. (Halflinger Grove, Warfang) Sparx had never really seen the inside of the Warfang Temple, barring a few catacombs underneath, nor had he truly known what the word “opulent” meant until now. He now knew the meaning of the word, and had somehow learned (or possibly created) a few synonyms. He had been taken away from the guardhouse window by Terrador (or as he liked to call him, “the Big Guy”) and brought to the Temple, although he never really said why. Terrador was the largest Dragon Sparx had ever seen, barring Cynder when she was under Malefor’s influence, but she didn’t really count. As the Guardian of Earth, he had been one of Spyro’s teachers for his Elemental abilities way back in the day, and was sort of the de-facto second-in-command of the Guardians when Ignitus wasn’t around. Sparx liked Terrador --- he was a bit of a jerk, but he was a cool dude, and kicked major Grublin butt during the siege of Warfang, which put him high on Sparx’s list of friends. At the moment, Sparx was sitting with Terrador in the Temple’s central chamber, a dimly-lit, oddly plain room with four doors on opposite ends, each marked with its own specific Elemental symbol: Earth, Fire, Ice, and Electricity. The room dipped down to the middle to meet a pool of glassy water, which seemed to act like a perfect mirror for the painted and rune-covered dome ceiling above; not a single ripple or wave disturbed its pristine surface. They had been sitting here for a few minutes now, but even Sparx knew what, or rather who, they were waiting for. Finally, two other doors opened up, one on either side of them. From the Ice door emerged a large, regal-looking blue Dragon with a purple underbelly and wings, looking impeccable despite his recent battles and fatigue. From the other came a slightly smaller yellow Dragon with a blue underbelly and golden wings, and in stark contrast to his Ice Guardian counterpart, he acted as tired as he looked, and yet still possessed a spark of youthful energy and eagerness in his gaze that made up for his exhaustion. Sparx rolled his eyes. Unlike Terrador, these two weren’t exactly Sparx’s favorites. Cyril, the Guardian of Ice, was a stuck-up old codger who thought he was superior to everyone, and although he had his moments of humility (few and far between), he never stuck Sparx as the gracious type. More of a sore loser, really. And as for Volteer, the Guardian of Electricity... “Ah, Terrador, Cyril, young Sparx, it is truthfully so stupendous, wonderful, and monumentally extraordinary to see you all alive, well, and within reach of your faculties and senses still. Have you looked outside lately? The world has changed, shifted, flipped upside down and inside out! There are trees, actual trees surrounding Warfang again! And not only that, but we are all in one piece! Oh, how I wish Ignitus and the two young ones were here, they need to see this without delay! Cyril, have you seen them? Terrador, surely you’ve felt them with your connection to the Earth Element? What do they say? Do they even have a voice? You must tell me! I must know everything.” Yeah, Sparx wasn’t exactly his biggest fan either, especially since he said all that in one breath. Sparx sighed and fluttered off his perch, knowing that this was going to be a long day already. “Volteer, Cyril,” Terrador rumbled in greeting, his bass voice almost causing the room to shake. “Terrador, Sparx...and idiot...” Cyril greeted back cordially to all except Volteer, who merely chuckled in response. “’Sup, gramps?” Sparx smirked. Cyril groaned and slapped a wing over his face. “I have the sudden urge to be back in my meditation cell...” “You would waste time meditating at a time such as this?” Volteer gasped. “When we’re on the cusp of a brand new age for our world? For shame, Cyril! For. Shame!” “And now I have a headache, fantastic...” the Ice Dragon amended. “You better have a good reason for calling us here, Terrador, because I’m about to--” “It’s not the same,” Terrador said quickly, causing Cyril to stop in his rambling. The other two Guardians glanced at each other, puzzled before looking back at their leader. Terrador gazed at each one in turn, even momentarily glancing at Sparx, before continuing, “Our surroundings. They aren’t the same as they were before.” “Didn’t our resident mad scientist Volteer already say that?” Cyril asked dryly. “Its not just the trees, I don’t recognize the landscape, and the ocean is missing,” Terrador argued, looking at Volteer in worry. “And no, Volteer, the trees are not speaking to me. Nor is the Earth, for that matter. I can still use it to the best of my ability, but it refuses my pleas for answers. It feels...foreign, somehow.” “Foreign? Hmm...that’s, er, um, hmm...odd...” Volteer wondered, now completely invested and thinking deeply. Even Sparx looked interested in what Terrador was saying. “Well, the frost and ice answer to me still,” Cyril said. “While it is puzzling the ocean is gone, I can still feel the rain in the air, and I can still command ice to form within it.” “But ice is fleeting, and a rain cloud is aimless and without direction until called, while the Earth is a living organism with history and a mind of its own. It needs no master, because it is its own master. It has seen the rise and fall of empires, civilizations, and entire species, and yet it lives on as it always has, wild and pure,” Terrador replied. “Unlike Ignitus with fire, or you two with your own Elements, I truly am just a caretaker of the land. I call and it answers, not the other way around. I cannot command it to do my bidding, only ask for it to lend its strength. But this land...it hides from me. When the world was saved, Spyro must have done something to change it in a fundamental level. It’s as if...” His voice trailed off, and his eyes grew distant. Volteer, who had been listening while holding his breath, puffed out his cheeks and groaned in frustration. “Oh come on, Terrador, don’t leave us in suspense like that! ‘It’s as if’ what?” “I dare not say it, for I hope I’m wrong,” Terrador replied with a shake of his head. “For now, it is a mystery that we must solve at a later date. There is something far more important to worry about.” He looked up at Sparx’s glittering form above them. Cyril gave a grave nod. “The fates of Ignitus, Spyro, and Cynder.” Sparx sighed, catching their attention. “And my parents,” he muttered. Volteer cocked his head to the side. “What about them?” “They were in the swamp by the Silver River before...it was all turned into the Burned Lands.” Volteer’s eyes softened and he smiled. “Young Sparx, there is no need to worry about such things. Your parents, and all the other Dragonflies from the swamp, are safe, sound, well, and hale.” Sparx’s eyes widened, and he zipped over to Volteer’s face, poking his snout with a finger. “Where?” “We have them secured in a safe house under the Temple, old chap,” Cyril explained. “When they came to us seeking refuge from Malefor, we couldn’t leave them to perish, so we took in as many as we could accommodate, which, considering their size, was a shocking amount. There they remain even now, waiting until we give them the signal to emerge.” Sparx let his shoulders sag in relief, and Volteer caught him before he could drop out of the air. “If you’d like, I could arrange for you to see them, Sparx. I’m sure they would be ecstatic, elated, jubilant, and pleased to see you again,” the hyper Guardian offered. “Thanks,” Sparx replied, a small smile adorning his face. “But now that I know they’re safe, I can wait a little longer, and so can they. I...I wanna find Spyro first. He’s my big bro, and the Dragonflies all loved him as much as they, uh, tolerated me. I want to see our parents together with him. A triumphant return, after all that’s happened.” Cyril bowed his head and smiled for the first time in months. “Is it any wonder that Spyro rarely leaves your side? He could not ask for a more loyal and caring brother. Ah, bless me, I wish I knew how that felt.” Volteer raised a claw, only for Cyril to immediately shut him down with a glare. “Not you, you blithering idiot.” Volteer let out a cackle. “One day, Cyril, old friend, one day!” “Not in this or any other life, you lightning-fried chicken.” Terrador chuckled. “Honestly you two...” he murmured, before turning to Sparx. “Do not worry, young Dragonfly, we already have a plan to find your wayward brother, wherever he and the others might be. We’ll wait a few more days to see if they return on their own, and if they don’t, we’ll enact our plan.” “Care to fill me in on the plan, big guy?” Sparx asked. The Guardian of Earth nodded. “Of course, it’s only your right. However, perhaps it would be better to wait for now until we’re sure that Spyro won’t return on his own. It would save us some time.” Sparx sighed, having already expected this answer. The Guardians were great overall, but were also annoyingly stringy when it came to letting others know about their plans. Still, at least there was something he could hope for, and he was happy to hear about his family’s survival. Not a bad day, all in all. (East of Whitetail Woods) They hadn’t really been flying for that long, maybe an hour or two at most, and although they could’ve covered more ground at their current speed, they didn’t want to. Like on the ground, Cynder was taking her time to look around at the land below her. A small mountain range had risen up to their left, its snow-capped peaks touching the clouds they flew under. To their right, they could see the outline of a snaking river on the horizon, and the beginnings of another large forest, this one looking denser and more foreboding than the one they had left behind. None of it looked familiar to either of them, which left a worming doubt in the back of their minds. Spyro never intended for the world to look so different when he saved it, he just wanted it to be beautiful and healthy again, and for its inhabitants to be saved. And yet, so much had changed. All of it was beautiful, but also alien in a way. A low growling emerged from Spyro, interrupting his musings, but it wasn’t from his throat. He looked down sheepishly as Cynder smirked to his right. “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” she teased. “Can you blame me?” Spyro replied, as his belly growled again. He glared down at it and Cynder giggled. “Nah, I suppose not. We spent almost all of yesterday fighting Malefor and his beasts, with very little rest to boot. Maybe we should get some.” Spyro pointed ahead with a claw. “We can stop at the forest. With any luck there’ll be some animals inside that we could hunt.” “I could go for some roast venison right now,” Cynder agreed. “There was a doe we left back there,” Spyro reminded her. “Eh, wasn’t that hungry back then; and besides, she had a fawn with her. Wasn’t going to ruin that.” Spyro shrugged. “Fair enough.” The two of them sped up until they reached the forest, then began a slow, steady glide to the ground, spiralling in the air until they landed on a small, rounded hill just outside the forest. The soft grass almost felt spongy under their claws, and they had to resist the urge to sink into it. On a whim, Spyro closed his eyes and concentrated, remembering the lessons Terrador had taught him so long ago. He felt his connection to the Earth around him, and the Earth greeted him. It felt...strange. He couldn’t quite place why, but it seemed that the Earth didn’t recognize him as it once did. It responded to him and his power, as expected, but it didn’t speak to him like before. “Spyro?” Spyro shook his head and reopened his eyes, feeling his connection to the Earth Element dissipate. “I was just feeling the Earth. It feels strange, not unwelcoming, but...I’m not sure.” “Well, the world did change a lot,” Cynder replied with a shrug. “Yeah, maybe...” Spyro conceded with a small frown. “Well, we can figure that out later. Let’s get some food.” Cynder nodded and joined his side as they began to walk towards the forest. They had only taken a few steps when they suddenly stopped and Spyro held a wing in front of her. They both saw what had been hidden by the forest’s shadow, and they both knew immediately what it was. The design was unmistakable --- train tracks, curling around the forest and crossing over the river that they had seen from the air, leading to lands beyond. Where they led, neither Dragon knew. “Is that what I think it is?” Cynder asked. “If it is, we may be in luck,” Spyro said. “Because I only know of one race in the Dragon Realms that uses train tracks and rails.” “The Moles?” Cynder concluded, a bright smile forming on her face. “...There are two races that I know of that use train tracks and rails,” Spyro amended with a roll of his eyes. “The Moles and the Manweersmalls. We might be near a settlement or a mine, and if we can find it we can get some directions to Warfang.” “Food and rest first, though.” Spyro nodded, and the two of them continued on their way to the forest, stepping carefully over the train tracks. Upon further inspection, these tracks were far more finely-crafted than the crude ones Spyro had seen with the Moles and Manweersmalls. The metalwork was superb, and each part was placed down precisely and without a single blemish or mistake. Clearly whoever placed these wanted to ensure a safe and comfortable ride, and they were far too large for a cart, which most likely ruled out a mine for their destination. Ignoring the tracks for now, the two Dragons stepped into the forest, and were immediately struck by how different it was compared to the one they had left behind. This forest was thick with vines and darker trees, giving the forest an eerie, shadowy vibe, and there was almost complete silence. The trees were gnarled and twisted, their roots breaking out of the ground and curling up like claws of their own, and their branches thick with lichen and hanging moss. Creepy, but no more so than what they had faced before. This was a stroll in the park for them. Fearless, they continued deeper into the forest. The silence that once permeated the air now gave way to distant rustling, and the creaking of trees moving in an unseen wind. Small fireflies could be seen fluttering about through the shadowy canopy, and the air stank of rot and composting vegetation. The two Dragons grimaced at the stench and Cynder put a claw to her snout. “Yikes...I’m suddenly not as hungry. Maybe we should try following the tracks instead?” “We still have to eat, Cyn,” Spyro argued. “We don’t really have much of a choice here.” “I suppose,” Cynder sighed, and then paused and stared at him. “Did...you just call me ‘Cyn’?” Spyro blinked at her. “Yeah? Why, is there anything wrong with that?” Cynder blushed. “Uh, no, it’s just that nobody’s ever given me a real nickname before. Well, except Sparx, but I don’t count his.” Spyro shrugged. “Well, if you don’t want me to call you that, just let me know.” “No no, you’re fine. I love it,” Cynder said, smiling at him, although her mind raced as her heartbeat quickened. Does he know? Spyro smiled back. “Well then, Cyn, let’s see if we can find something to eat.” With that, he shoved a branch away from in front of him and went deeper into the forest, Cynder close at his heels. Time passed quickly as they went. Though the canopy was heavy and thick, they could still see small flickers of sunlight through the trees, and they could tell it was close to the evening. Still they found no animals, although they could swear they heard growling and howling at one point, but couldn’t place which direction it came from. Or any direction at all, really. The forest was far too cramped for them to get a reasonable bearing, and everything looked the same. More hours passed, and they both came to the same conclusion as the sun dipped down and the forest started to grow darker: they were lost. And to add insult to injury, they were still no closer to finding a meal. It was as if all the animals were avoiding them. Finally, Cynder had enough and turned to Spyro. “Well, if we wanted to get nowhere fast, this is certainly the way to do it.” Spyro groaned and facepalmed. “It isn’t possible for a forest to be this determined to make our lives miserable.” “Then how about this: we fly up to the canopy to get our bearings, and then see if we can spot those train tracks again. It’s better than just meandering through this creepy place all night with nothing to show for it. There isn’t a rabbit for miles, much less an actual meal.” “Is this a roundabout way of saying ‘I told you so’?” Spyro deadpanned. “Maaaaybe.” The Purple Dragon sighed and let his claw slide down from his face. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. With any luck we’ll find a town before nightfall.” “See young Dragon, sometimes it’s better to listen to the advice of your elders,” Cynder teased him. “We’re the same age,” Spyro countered. “And I was technically an adult for most of my life before you shrunk me, so there.” Spyro arched a brow. “You were corrupted by the Dark Master, that wasn’t your normal size!” “Still counts!” Cynder laughed, taking to the air and breaking through the canopy. Spyro shook his head and followed her upwards, poking his head above the trees and settling on a branch to steady himself. The first thing he noticed was the warm wind against his face, and it made him relax slightly into a more peaceable state of mind. The second thing he noticed was the darkening skies, and the last rays of sunset peeking out over the mountains on the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, a far cry from the forest below. The third thing he noticed was that Cynder was staring at the sky with her jaw dropped. When he followed her gaze, his eyes widened in shock. Where there should’ve been two moons, one small and pale green and the other large and bright orange, there was now only one moon of silvery white. Its pale light bathed the world below with an ethereal glow, and both Dragons were struck by a sense of worry and fear. “The Celestial Moons...what happened to Zella and Adrano?” Cynder gasped. “They’re gone!” Spyro didn’t know what to say in response, and he lowered his gaze and stared off into space, his thoughts racing. Things weren’t adding up --- the train tracks, the landscape, their longer-than-normal distance from Warfang, and now the lack of both moons. When he repaired the world, he had no intention of touching the moons, so why were they different? Was he truly that powerful, or had something else happened? And what about the land itself? He wanted to put it back to normal, not change it completely. And the Earth still didn’t speak to him like it once did... It was as if-- “...No...” he whispered. It couldn’t be. Could it? “Spyro?” Cynder asked suddenly, pointing with a claw past the forest. “What’s that?” Spyro followed her gaze once more and saw a flicker of light far off into the distance, poking out just above the forest. He focused on it, and realized it was the moonlight reflecting off of something very tall, like a tower of some kind. Or maybe a pole? Looking closer, he could see more lights, but these didn’t move, and were shaped like-- “A town!” Spyro exclaimed, jumping into the air and spreading his wings, gliding from treetop to treetop. “Spyro, wait!” Cynder called after him, suppressing a grunt of frustration as she followed close behind. After taking to the air and swiftly flying over the forest towards the lights, Spyro stopped at the edge of the forest on a small hill and stared ahead, his jaw hitting the ground. Cynder landed next to him and crouched low upon seeing what he saw. It was indeed a town, but unlike anything they had ever seen before. The buildings all had thatched roofs and white walls with lines in them, and some had lights shining through their windows. Other buildings were larger and more elegant, having sloped, tiled roofs and a more centralized location, indicating importance. Still others were even more oddly shaped, sloping and curving and spreading out all over the place, even bridging across the roads to join with other homes. Farms surrounded the town, including one that looked like an enormous apple orchard. The train tracks that they had been meaning to follow had led to what looked like a train station within the town. It all looked rather cozy. But there were two things wrong with this picture. Off in the distance, just on the outskirts of town, there was a huge structure that seemed rather out of place with the rest of the town. It looked like it was made of some kind of blue or purple crystalline material, and was shaped almost like a giant tree with several balconies and towers attached to it. This was obviously where the moonlight had been reflecting off of. The second thing that was wrong was the town’s inhabitants. Both Dragons had been expecting Moles, Manweersmalls, or even Dragons. Instead, a different creature roamed the streets, one that neither Dragon had ever thought they’d see in this context. “Spyro...” Cynder finally spoke up. “When you were wandering the Dragon Realms with Sparx, did either of you ever see colorful, intelligent...horses?” Spyro gulped and looked at her. “No Cynder, I don’t think we did.” Cynder looked back at the town. “Then...where are we?” “I wish I knew,” Spyro answered, laying down in the grass next to her. “But at this point, I’m starting to wonder if...” His voice trailed off, and he grimaced. “If what?” Spyro didn’t answer, but in his mind he knew what that answer would be. There was a reason why the moons had disappeared, why the landscape was so different, and why the Earth felt so foreign. They weren’t in the Dragon Realms anymore. In fact, they weren’t even in the same world. He didn’t know where they were, and that terrified him more than anything he had ever faced before. (Badlands, Thorax’s Hive) Dry. Everything was dry, just as he remembered it. The sand under his hoof, the stone, the air, the weather, the Hive itself, it was all dry. Barren. Silent. Lifeless. Thorax sighed, kicking a pebble off the edge of the Hive and watching it plummet to the dark desert below. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking this way, but he couldn’t help it. Chrysalis was gone, and so was the hunger the Hive had felt for centuries, but now something else was missing. The thing was, he just couldn’t tell what that something was. They had everything they needed: love, a home, friends, allies, a new leader. What else could they need? How about a family? his mind snarked at him. You’re still missing him, and many more. Thorax squeezed his eyes shut and sat down on the balcony that used to be part of Chrysalis’s throne room, trying not to remember the sound of Pharynx’s voice. He had made his choice, and there was nothing Thorax could do about it. Pharynx was always one of Chrysalis’s favorites, so it didn’t surprise Thorax to find out that his brother wasn’t part of his impromptu rebellion. He and hundreds of other Changelings were still unaccounted for, all of them now labelled as traitors. But were they really traitors for remaining loyal? “King Thorax?” Thorax’s eyes opened. Yes, king. That’s what he was now. He hadn’t meant to become one, but apparently destiny had other plans for him. He craned his neck around until he saw a yellow and green Changeling in dark blue armor looking at him from the door to his modest quarters. “Yes, Crinkle?” The guard cleared his throat. “The feast’s about to begin, Your Majesty. They’re waiting for you.” Thorax nodded. “I’ll be right down, start without me.” The guard blinked. “But...it’s tradition to wait for the leader of the Hive to begin the feast.” Thorax let out a laugh, dry as the air around him. “Tradition...right...” Tradition never meant anything to him. He bucked every trend the Hive set, never paid much attention to the silly ceremonies and events Chrysalis had created, and even outright defied the Queen herself several times. Thorax was never a traditional Changeling, and yet they expected him as king to uphold those same traditions he sought to do away with. “I’ll be there in a moment.” Crinkle nodded and excused himself from the room with a short bow. Thorax, meanwhile, returned to staring out over the Badlands beyond. So much personal pain, so much hunger, so much grief and failure, it had all led to the moment when he left the Hive, and then his decisions since then had led to the Hive becoming what it was now. And he supposed that wasn’t too bad. After all, his Changelings...his Changelings were happy now, and that was enough. But was it wrong that he felt a little selfish for more? As soon as he thought that, he shook his head and grimaced. Such thoughts had led to Chrysalis becoming what she was, and Thorax wasn’t her. He would never be her. No, he would lead the Changelings the best way he could. If they wanted him to be traditional, he would comply, up to a point. Not all traditions were meant to be broken, after all. Still, he wished Pharynx was here with him. He would’ve made a far better leader. He’d know what to do next, he’d be able to unite the Changelings like never before. He’d...he’d be traditional. But Thorax wasn’t Pharynx, and he was all the Hive had. So, tradition be damned, he’d buck one more trend --- he was going to turn the Hive inside-out one last time. He was going to turn that lifelessness into liveliness, and create a future all Changelings would be proud to be a part of. A future of peace. A future of everlasting love. His newfound goal in mind, he left the Badlands to its own devices and re-entered the Hive, putting on his best smile and proudest posture as he made his way down to the lower levels. Outside, dark clouds gathered in the skies above, and lightning flashed inside them. For the first time in many decades, it rained in the Badlands.