Awoken to a Night of Sorrow
Everything seemed normal at the time. For once his dreams were peaceful, filled with happy surroundings. The evening in his thoughts was nice and quiet, with crickets chirping and peaceful streams of moonlight coursing down against his face. Nearby, the soft echo of streams of water flowed, the gentle sound accenting the peaceful chirping beautifully.
Laying in the grass, the dragon breathed the crisp night air deeply, feeling the subtle bite burn his lungs slightly. The sensation wasn’t painful, in fact it felt almost welcome. It beat the normal hellish heat he was used to. Spyro had always felt at home in the cooler temperatures.
His home at the swamp had been a more temperate environment, the winters being especially chilly. This felt wonderful. Wisps of wind slid against his scales, leaving the homely feeling of the bite of winter in his bones. While built like a fire dragon, parts of his body had naturally developed into that of an Ice dragon, particularly those related to his own internal temperature.
Despite this normal chilliness, the purple dragon felt a warm and comforting pressure against his flank. The presence was familiar and all welcome.
Cynder by his side, leaning against him with her wings flopped against his side, warmth coursing through his entire body. Her black scales glistened in the pale moonlight, glittering gems replacing her scales. Her silvery jewelry reflected the light beautifully, shining on her form.
The gorgeous sight took his breath away. All he could do was stare dumbfounded into her emerald orbs that were gazing at him slyly from the corner of her eye. With a gentle smile on her muzzle she wriggled her body in his possessive grip. Pressing hard against him, the dragoness burrowed into the protective embrace of the purple dragon.
He sighed heavily, bending his neck down and pushing himself against her body. She cooed contently as he nuzzled the back of her neck. His talons kneaded her scales gently, feeling the silky softness of her wings draping over him, surrounding him in familiar comfort. He squeezed her hard, tears brimming in his eyes.
Not noticing his distress, the dragoness wriggled a bit, pressing harder against the purple dragon’s chest, sighing in bliss. His body shook slightly as relief flooded his body, tears staining his cheeks as the tears fell. Clutching her tightly with trembling arms, a pathetic sob escaped him.
Heart aching, the distraught dragon whimpered, tightening his grip on the black dragoness. His chest heaved as a sob broke free, splitting the silence like a knife. She stiffened slightly against him, her cooing and purring coming to a halt. He clenched his eyes shut, pressing his face deep into her.
“I-I-I thought you were dead.” He hiccuped, sobs breaking free easily now. He gripped her hard, so happy that the terrible dream hadn’t been true, that she was right here. Weak from fear, the purple dragon clung to her like a child to his favorite toy, unable to shake the tremors rushing across his body or the stinging twinges stabbing his heart. “You were…” He couldn’t finish, his voice trailing off with a whimper.
“Spyro….” He heard a light whisper against him, the voice sounding strong despite the weakness tearing his body apart slowly. The purple dragon didn’t respond, only burrowing deeper into her warmth. She moved back a little, pushing a paw against his chest lightly. Reluctantly, he separated from her, his head drooping.
Eyes still clenched tightly, futility trying to stem the flow of tears from sliding down his cheeks, his heart ached. A paw gently pushed his chin up. He opened his eyes at this, vision still blurry from tears. Through the film of water he saw her own eyes shining like diamonds. Reaching out with both her paws, she caressed the side of his face, pulling him closer.
She skipped past his trembling lips planting her lips on his forehead, just below his crest. Sighing, she wrapped him in her arms, holding Spyro's shivering form against her as she stroked his crest softly, whispering into the purple dragon's ear. It lasted several moments before she herself shivered hard.
“I’m so sorry….” He heard her whisper, despair in her tone. Confused and distraught, the purple dragon pulled away for a moment, looking into her eyes. Something was off about her the second he looked closely. Her body was slightly translucent, and there were tears in her emerald crystals, sorrow shining in her expression as she gazed deeply into his own lilac irises.
Spyro felt the soul crushing realization hit him like a truck. The thought striking him so suddenly his stomach heaved and the darkness constantly attempting to claw it’s way free of his soul nearly broke through once again.
This wasn’t real.
This was a dream.
She was still dead.
The sound of his heart breaking could nearly be heard, the shattering of it as sharp as glass. Breath catching, he forced his head under her chin as much as he could, choking sobs wracking his form. The phantom of the dragoness wrapped the distraught dragon in her wings and arms.
He could barely muster the strength to move through the intense sorrow controlling him, but the thought of losing her gave him shocking strength. Fear welled in his heart, in his soul. He would never hear her voice again. Never hear her laugh again. Never hear her say that she loved him again.
Never, never again.
This final thought broke him. Clambering onto her as much as he could, the purple dragon cried into her neck, his breathing uneven and heavy. She whispered into his ear, cooing to him as muffled screams and cries of pain quaked both her and his form.
Hugging her as if his very life depended on it, Spyro weeped harder, unable to calm himself as he normally could, feeling nothing but the full weight of the world on him once again, the only being who could share his pain now gone, swept away like dust in the wind.
A pit inside his soul was getting deeper, light fading more and more. A hole that was quickly being overflown with the corruption and venom. Cold rage clawing it’s way to the surface, ripping through the hole in his soul with a vengeance.
The very essence of evil awakening, and he was helpless to stop it. He felt it scream and thrash within him, threatening to tear him apart with it’s vile energy and purpose. Breath hitching even more as he squeezed her, the purple dragon stared into her magenta chest, tears flowing down his hollow eyes, the wind chill now feeling very unwelcoming.
Nothing was beating in her heart and her body was ice cold. The reaffirmation of the corpse that he was holding only fueled the horror clawing it’s way through him. He could feel it’s anger and it’s bloodlust, the feeling becoming harder to differentiate from his own.
Just as he thought he would lose himself forever, the heat of the dragoness chased it back into the depths of his soul. The black dragoness held him even tighter as the dragon completely flopped against her, the weakness of his bones breaking him like pillars of sand in the wake of a storm.
Her flood of warmth sealed the hole in his heart, at least momentarily. He could feel her own tears splashing against his head, the spirit of his dragoness cradling him. Upper body spasming, the dragon coughed, the sobs shaking his body crushing his lungs.
“I know you’re worried….” The dragoness sang to him, voice soft and quiet, bringing his face up to hers. He found her shining emerald irises with his own. “Don’t be afraid….I’ve always loved you….” His body shook and he couldn’t meet her eyes, the despair creating a stab in his heart. Her tongue stroked his eyelids, wiping his tears away.
He moaned his pain into her chest, holding onto her hard enough to break scales if her body had been real. He wanted this to be real, he wanted to wake up with her lying against him like they had that gorgeous morning so many days ago. In his heart he knew that it would never happen. She was gone. Forever.
Shaking, he cried out for her one last time, his voice growing hoarse and his throat tightening up. She hummed gently in his ear, stroking his crest and leaning the side of her head against his. Sobbing miserably against her, Spyro whined her name near silently. She shushed him, stroking the side of his face with her claws, kissing his cheek once. He didn't relax a scale, he was beyond comforting.
“Your pain makes my body hurt...you need to know, I’ll always love you.”
He felt her leaving his grip, but he refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see her disappear. Her voice called to him, sounding more distant.
“Nothing stays the same...so go and get some sleep tonight..." The gentle singing lulled him, stemming the flow of tears only just slightly.
As the darkness surrounded him and he was left alone and afraid, her humming reached him. Sick to his stomach with despair, frigid from tail to horn, her voice called out from the blackness, the very sound of it filling him with bittersweet warmth.
"Look what you've done to me, you've made me perfect...."
*
He awoke with a cough and a heave, heart pounding. Spyro threw off the blankets around his shivering scales, the fabrics feeling as though they were suffocating him. Scrambling madly, the purple dragon cried out for his lost mate.
His head swiveled in the dark room, finding nothing but the same surroundings that had become familiar in the past week. A simple bedroom, with the sheets and blankets stripped from the bed and piled in a nest in the center of the room.
Sighing, the dragon fell back onto his haunches, gazing miserably around his dark room. This is what true loss was. Not the death itself, it’s what it leaves behind, that aching pain you’ll always feel, waking up to a cold bed and an even colder heart every morning. Spyro had never known it would hurt this much to lose her.
Now all he could do was try to press on, knowing that his soulmate was gone, and there was no way to get her back. The very thought was nearly enough to shatter the purple dragon, but his spirit of will would not allow him to give up just yet. In his heart he knew he had one true purpose now.
Vengeance.
He was going to make that thing pay, no matter the cost. His own life was forfeit now, and he didn’t care, for all that he could feel right now was cold, tempered rage towards it. He wanted to hate his new allies for their part in this, but he knew that was just the rage speaking. If anything, they had cost the ponies more.
He was honestly surprised when the oddly colored Rainbow one had offered to take him in, stowing him in a faraway room in the castle he had escaped from earlier that day. He was still quite shellshocked and followed her like a lost puppy. While much more trusting than his companion, Spyro knew that he normally wouldn’t have just gone to sleep in an unknown place.
However it had been a few days since staying here and things had gone off almost without a hitch. While he had always kept his guard up, he knew that he was severely outmatched in power here. It was one of him and close to fifty of them. Suffice to say he wasn’t going to be pushing his luck.
So with that in mind, Spyro had just kept quiet and did what he was told, doing his level best to prove that he wasn’t going to kill them in their sleep. For the first day or two that’s exactly how they treated him. It hurt to know that they feared him, but he couldn’t exactly blame them for their distrust.
Going ballistic and leveling a forest several miles wide typically causes that sort of reaction, he surmised.
Shaking his head, the dragon stretched his body and stood back up, the blankets and sheets sliding off of his scales and piling around the floor. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Spyro padded silently over to the door. His wings visibly slumped over his back, the body language being fairly evident to anyone with an ounce of empathy.
A bit of a struggle later, the dragon was able to use the strange knobs and swing the door out. To say the design of their doors confused him would be an understatement. Scaly brow furrowed from the ordeal of opening the door, Spyro pushed out through the hallway.
The passages were not that dissimilar from those of the underground prison he had originally found himself in with Cynder. Long corridors down either side with the right leading to a dead end while the left led to a large staircase down to the ballroom of the castle. Alongside the walls were rooms like his, short, narrow doorways that led to simplistic rooms. Somewhat of a sharp contrast to the rest of the crystalline castle.
It didn’t seem they were giving him any kind of special treatment of which he was grateful for. He already stood out enough as it was given what he was. From what Rainbow Dash had told him, dragons were not common in….Equestria? He couldn’t tell if he was pronouncing that right. But, even when dragons were encountered they tended to be rather destructive.
He grimaced, remembering the crass look she had given him while telling him that particular detail.
The rainbow mare looked a bit out of her element running the entire Castle in the absence of it’s actual owner. She wouldn’t give him a straight answer when asked questions about said owner, only skirting around his questions and telling that she was out on business. Something told him that the pegasus had no clue what was taking her friend so long.
Apart from the rainbow pegasus, he didn’t talk much with the other ponies who wandered around the castle. She had made mention of eventually asking him a few questions with a couple of her friends, but so far that day hadn't come.
Nothing to do but wait until that day came. His claws tapped against the soft carpet rug that lined the whole of the hallway, and Spyro was left to his thoughts as he proceeded down the enormously long corridor.
Lining the walls were banners depicting the same six pointed purple star that Cynder had pointed out that fateful day. He had yet to meet that pony, but from what Rainbow had told him she would be a bit more easy going and sympathetic to their situation.
Spyro wasn’t looking for pity, but he needed allies in this fight, ones that he could trust and rely on. Seeing as he was rather out of familiar territory judging by what he had seen so far, the only true allies he could get would be in these creatures that had given him their hospitality.
Guilt ate away at the purple dragon. Despite all the terror they had caused, these ponies felt fit to give them the assistance they needed. Fresh pain ached in his chest. Not them, just him now.
For once in his rather short life of eighteen years, Spyro felt completely isolated, powerless. The same guilt, anger, and everlasting ache of his missing mate brewed forth in his soul. What kind of hero was he? He couldn’t even protect his dragoness when she needed him most. How could he wield the power to shatter mountains, yet he couldn’t save his best friend, his soulmate.
Spyro scowled venomously, self loathing eating him alive as he silently walked on. One paw in front of the other, that was the only way forward. While he may never really move on, not after losing the other half of his soul, he would be damned if he let her go unavenged.
If he killed it, she would be avenged. If he died, he would be with her again.
These thoughts had come rather often in the past few days, coming as a constant reminder of the deterioration of his mind, the cost of the horror that he had witnessed so recently. All the barriers that had been put up as a child, a lost child forced to fight in a war for a world he barely knew existed, they were cracked. Cracked, but not shattered.
The bitter determination that had always been there for him was back. He would not fail, nor would he slow his pace. Nothing would stop him from silencing the beast that had caused so much tragedy for him, as well as the innocent creatures that had given him their hospitality.
Not one to leave a debt unpaid, the purple dragon had put aside the hate that he wanted to feel towards them for their part in this mess, for he was honestly just as guilty as they were. But until that debt was paid, he would walk.
And so walk he did.
His train of thought was broken as the large staircase came into immediate view. The steps were quite a long way, however the castle was nearly empty, nothing of a rarity from what he had seen in the past week.
Claws clacking against the crystalline surface of the staircase, the dragon hopped down at a quick pace, feeling hunger pang inside of his stomach. Their supply of food for him had been rather limited, given the unusual diets of the dragons around here.
Gems, eh?
The thought had never even struck him before. However when they had given him a plate of green spirit gems he was confused. Sometimes the species that didn’t have common contact with his species had made the mistake that dragons simply live off the energy that the gems supplied. In reality doing so was extremely dangerous.
Spirit gems, green ones in particular, acted as temporary boosters, sort of like dragonic adrenaline shots. Trying to replace a diet with them could lead to a dragon’s heart shutting down after only a few days of living off them. They needed food, just the same as anyone else.
He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised to find that these equines were vegetarian, they didn’t have the teeth of a carnivore that’s for sure. He had never gotten such a wary look from a herbivorous species though at the mention of him eating meat.
They hadn’t running off screaming in panic, that he was grateful for, they seemed like a rather skittish bunch. However they did give him a few nervous looks, all except for the Rainbow one who didn’t seem all that shocked now that he thought about it.
While the others had given him anxious glances and kept their distance, she had given him reassurance that she would see what was in stock.
Later that day Spyro had finally gotten to eat, for what seemed like the first time in days. He was happy to hear that Griffons inhabited this land, the meat he was given serving as their meals for ambassadors and visitors of that race.
While a little caught off guard that so many similarities existed between what he assumed were two different dimensions, Spyro decided it was best to not complain and just reap the benefits of the odd coincidence. Besides, nothing could be done about it, he was a soldier, not a scholar.
Not very far away from the mess hall now, Spyro sped up his pace. Bypassing the stiff guards lining the hallway without so much as a glance, Spyro kept a stoic expression, head raised high and scales relaxed.
Hiding his heart deep within a mask, the purple dragon padded silently into the large, castle dining room. Spyro had gotten used to the large, sprawling mess halls of the Warfang citadel, so the first time he had entered the royal dining hall he had been a little thrown for a loop. Suffice to say that he was a little unused to the regal, large surroundings, leading a life much smaller than this.
The dining hall was different this time. The familiar chromatic mane of fur stood up from one end of the table, but this time it was accompanied by five others of various colors and patterns. Feeling suddenly unsure, the dragon stopped mid step, one paw in the air.
Blinking once, the dragon thought about backing out of the room while he had the chance. Grimacing, he realized that he would most likely be called down eventually. The mane style of one of the ponies mimicked the color palette of the banners and signs presented around the castle.
This must be it’s leader. It’s princess.
Getting a little bit nervous in the face of such authority, the dragon froze up. He had gotten to interact with the royalty of other nations after the war and it almost always made him nervous. While it was likely he had the power to bring down entire kingdoms, his nature was submissive to a fault, and the confidence that rulers always held made him a bit less so in himself.
He was feeling the jitters of nervous tingles running up his spine once again at the thought of having to have a long talk with royalty. It would be hard to explain the actions of that day, especially to those who would have no understanding of the place he came from.
If what Rainbow Dash described her as was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be treated too harshly, but the conversation was either going to go swimmingly or lead to him being imprisoned once again. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be the later. He wasn’t really wanting to be back down in that tunnel again, and especially not alone.
The thought of his fallen mate brought forth new waves of aching, and he felt his form droop slightly. Despite the pain, he tried to stay strong, he needed to be strong. Cynder wouldn’t want to see him broken, not when they had fought so hard in the first place. They knew the risks, but that had never really occurred to them, their youth making them feel slightly invincible.
Now he was alone, and he had to carry on, if not for her, then at least her memory. The legacy of her greatness was not something he would let be tarnished. Feeling a bit of his old fire burn in his chest, the dragon took a step forward, raising his head up high. The light conversation flooding through the room halted when he cleared his voice.
For a second, nothing happened, the two parties just stared at each for a moment, neither quite sure what to say. Several of the ponies in the procession looked quite nervous at the tense stare off. Spyro caught the gaze of Rainbow Dash, who just gave him a terse nod from the back of the pack.
Eventually, a purple Alicorn stepped down from her chair, seated at the head of the large table. Her hooves, clad in golden shoes, clacked against the floor rather loudly. While her face was a mask, Spyro could see a slight bit of tension under her fur. While a tad bit taller than her, Spyro found himself a bit in awe of her regal appearance.
She stopped a few feet in front of him, eyes grazing over his tired looking form for a few seconds. Her gaze softened considerably and she straightened up, a warm smile gracing her muzzle.
“Hello Spyro, Rainbow has told me a lot about you.” She extended her hoof, an expectant smile of childish glee in her eyes. Spyro, having seen the moles perform the gesture before, knew what it meant.
Reaching out with his right paw, he wrapped his paw gently around the hoof, careful not to cut through fur and flesh with his sharp talons. Shaking firmly, Spyro didn’t realize at the time how momentous that simple action would be. Pony and Dragon working together, however uneasy it may be , an alliance that would become all the more necessary in the weeks to come….
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he does not know she lives
Chapter chapter
8223338 Chapter chapter indeed
Before I read this, what is the Gore, Horror and Dark tag for ?
And how bad does it get ?
8223580 Brief description of detailed violence, general dark themes in the chapters (monsters that are inherently mind bending, tragedy on some characters, etc) and horror for the antagonist being a general reality defying being that is horrid by nature
Yay, chapter.
8223279
Not yet, he doesn’t.