> The Anvil of Dawn > by Starlix > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Brutalized > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The night sky was a daunting thing. So silent and massive, gazing back with an image of the entire universe. Waiting within, a nest of bright lights and images of the galaxy they found themselves in. Such an image in reality was so much more incomprehensible to beings who lived on the tiny rocks within them. Who were we to think we could truly fight something as ancient as this, ancient as time, ancient as eternity. It was impossible. Along the walls of a large city, the lone figure gazed upwards, pondering the great mystery that was her existence. Lately these thoughts had been coming more often and it unnerved her greatly. The night felt at home, the darkness her element, and the night sky seemed as if it wanted to rebuke that claim. To state that she was foolish to think that this impossibly large realm belonged to her and to her alone. Sighing, the figure flopped onto her back. The dragoness lay on her back, staring ahead blankly, her wings splayed out, magenta membranes glowing slightly. Onyx black scales lined her slender body, appearing rather hard to spot in the dark evening. A belly separated smoothly into three plates, the same color has her expanding membranes heaved has a deep breath flowed from her. Piercing, glowing emerald eyes gazed out at the taunting sky, while the pale moonlight caused the markings across her head and under her eyes to glow faintly. Closing them for a few moments, she tapped her claws against the rough stone walls she found herself on, deep in thought. Peace seemed truly elusive tonight. What was she doing out here? She knew she should be asleep, but it wasn’t a particularly peaceful night. The horrors that marred her mind plagued her, nothing terribly unusual, however their intensity had seemed tripled this night. And so she sat, a near silent sentinel in the one place she felt truly calm. The peace and quiet of the night. And it taunted her. It was rather ironic, she thought. How her entire life since being freed she had attempted to throw off the shade that her enslavement by Malefor had cast upon her. Yet her peace was in the night. In the place where most dare not tread. She had tried her very best to remove the plague that seemed to follow her, yet in the area where it was born did she feel at ease. The dragoness sighed once again. Rolling to her side, she cast her gaze over the battlements, eyes roaming absentmindedly over the untouched meadows and rolling hills. She didn’t feel as if this was her doing however, for she could see the scars where they truly lie. Hidden by the grass and dirt, thousands lay dead on this field, thousands that she helped kill. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, the female broke her gaze, finding it increasingly difficult to see. To each side, the walls remained empty, most unlit except for the ever present lights and life from the city behind her. Despite the renewed proximity to her kind, the touch of Malefor still cut deep to the bone, and so she strayed away. They probably wouldn’t care to converse with a murderer after all. Running a claw over her chest, the dragoness felt the renewed pain start again. It had been 3 years since they had blasted the one that did this to her to the very core of the planet. That had felt more gratifying than she would ever admit. The feeling of working seamlessly alongside her purple partner to bring that monster even just a fraction of the justice he deserved only further tapped into her raging bloodlust towards him. When he had finally been bested, she had been ready to die, thrown to the center of a cracking planet, what else could she expect. But then he saved them. Spyro. For a moment, she smiled, a passionate, heartfelt smile crossing her previously scowling muzzle. The purple savior that her people looked up to. He had been the one to free her from her horrible enslavement, to save her from...her. Even now she felt that trust and understanding she had felt from the beginning, the only one who ever really had shown her that. At first, this newfound trust had only increased her guilt. Every scar that had marred his young body had been caused by her, and her alone. Even now, older as they were, the scars remained, alongside the trove of new ones that had marred him. And just like that, the peace was broken again. She had hoped after she had pulled him out of that core once the shattering planet had been rebuilt anew, that they could find peace, be it death or life. She knew which one was more likely to find her and which would find him. She wasn’t dead yet, but they had been closer than ever before in the last few years. Peace had only momentarily reached the pair, as well as the world as a whole. Their power invited challenge. Them being alive brought challenge to the surface, new, deadlier opponents that would do everything possible to reach the victory they craved so badly. Her gaze was drawn to the long jagged scars that traced the tops of each of her forearms, along with a myriad of other smaller marks from past struggles. She supposed that the scars brought a new sense of strength with them. Among the agony and death, they had become stronger, more whole. The broken truly were the strong in the new state of the world she found herself in. Only those who had been shattered knew just how to be able to bite back. The world they were in started to view them differently. It was slight at first. After the second time the city had been sieged by wayward species, the many that had been slaughtered by her claw all those years ago. The citizens already viewed her with wariness or outright hostility, but it got so much worse after the continual outcries against her. Fear was an emotion she often felt, even if she hid it well, but this was a threat she couldn’t kill, couldn’t stalk until paranoia made it weak. In fact, paranoia made it more deadly, more vicious. When demands for her head started to be made, something had to break. That was the first time she left. The guilt, the fear, the anguish, it all overwhelmed her. The breaking point she had been nearing had snapped. In a panicked blossom of red energy she had split across the sky, channeling wind to breakneck speeds, she exceeded the city walls in under a second and sped out into the darkness, nothing but immediate survival on her mind. Alone, she felt happy, a bittersweet emotion in her eyes. She craved the acceptance from those around her, yet they cared not for her redemption. To them she was nothing more than a burden, a scapegoat, a murderer. The tears stung, and the words hurt more than the claws that they often swung at her. When all seemed lost, he would always come for her. Holding her gently as she sobbed in pain, agony in her heart, the blisters in her soul. The trauma was holding her back, she knew she should shed it, for Spyro cared not for the world when it hurt her deeply. She truly understood that night what it meant to be soulmates, to find one that truly understood your pain, and the one who couldn’t bear to see it consume you. As the night dragged on and he whispered sweetly to her, she could hear what he did not show. The slightest quiver in his voice, the most subtle unsteadiness in his motions. This was wearing him thin, for that she could see, almost as if it were painted on his scales. The purple dragon refused to show his scars to a world that cared not for them and only for an idol. She couldn’t remember how long they stayed up that night, or how long it was before he himself broke and sobbed against her shoulder. The two young dragons sharing in the agony of a world that could not understand them. For they were always destined to carry this burden. Those that carry the world on their shoulders are often most sighted to its problems. Spyro was her rock, the one thing in her existence that held her aloft. After her thirst for revenge against Malefor had culminated in his death, the single sole purpose for existence had shifted. The purple dragon that had torn her from the grasp of that abomination had been just as negatively affected by it as she had, though he didn’t show it. The happy, gentle Spyro that was her Spyro had not changed, but he was as scarred as was she. Something truly crossed her mind that night. All along she had thought that she was doing this to get rid of Malefor’s chain that had bound them, but the second she felt it’s removal, her life had been drifting. Now all she wanted to do was hold on for dear life, and to make anyone that try to do her harm feel hellfire, and to make those who would do it to Spyro feel it twice over. That night, she made a promise to herself. She would do what she always did, the one thing that made her more of a dangerous opponent than anyone but Spyro himself. For once, she could call herself something and feel sure. She wasn’t a hero. She wasn’t a martyr. She was a survivor. Cynder, the black dragoness, former Terror of the Skies, would never again feel the darkness envelop her heart. No matter the pain, no matter the trial, no matter the injustice done against her, she would persevere. Broken and shattered, but at the same time imposing and indestructible. Invincible, but not immortal. Back on the wall, she broke from her memories, once again feeling the purpose she had always had in the back of her mind. No matter the call, she would answer it. To owe it to her species, to owe it to herself, she would live on. Never again would she be a puppet and never again would she run. Turning back to the city, she didn’t feel the bite of the horrors that haunted her waking mind. If they returned she would fight, as she always had. She would endure as she has endured. With a gust of wind, Cynder spread her wings and blew into the night sky, flying for her room. The night above her stared back, unmoved. * Sunlight filtered into the room. The curtains, partially pulled to the side let the gentle rays of golden light flow into the room unobstructed. Along with the rays of soft light, the gentle chirping of birds and the occasional quiet conversation from the streets below filled the air. The peaceful atmosphere remained. This didn’t last long for a dragon currently facing the window, muzzle propped up on a nest of blankets and pillows. Growling lowly when the light flicked across his closed eyelids, the purple dragon rolled over slightly, clutching at a foreign object in his nest. A low, peaceful moan reached his ears and his eyes opened groggily. Laying, pressed up against his side, was his black scaled companion. "Mmmm...Cynder...what are you-” Spyro trailed off, confused. They didn’t share a room, yes they were courting, but they still kept their own rooms. Despite this, she would often sleep in his room to help appease both of their nightmares. The other’s comfort usually was enough to stave off the nightmarish visions or at least provide a shoulder to cry on when they came back in full force. She didn’t respond, instead curling up against his chest more. For a moment he was stricken by the adorable pose she was in. Her head pressed up against his neck, paws curled against his chest, snorting in her sleep every once in awhile. Grinning softly, he wrapped his wings around her and slowly rolled over, pulling her onto his chest, with him on his back. The black dragoness remained asleep, kneading her claws against his chest gently. He smiled, reaching over for a pillow and moving it behind his head, careful not to penetrate it with his horns. Propping it behind him, he stared down at his dragoness, slowly rubbing his paws down her sides, listening to her soft purrs. His smile drooped slightly at the sight of the many scars marring her perfect scales. The lines of scarred flesh were varying in length and size, some, like the horrific wounds to her forearms were particularly nasty. Others were smaller, ranging from the size of his claw, to the thin lines running all the way down her barrel and to the base of her tail. Gazing at his own body, as much as he could see that wasn’t obscured by sleeping dragoness, that was, he didn’t fail to notice his own battle scars, marring his armored belly scales. They had been in some...bad times. The dragon growled to himself softly. He blamed himself for some of them, carelessness had gotten them into some trouble. He didn’t think of himself as arrogant, he knew he was often too selfless for his own good, but his stubbornness often led to him taking his own word over others. Spyro had been fighting since he was a child, something that others had often used to get what they needed. It wasn't often he got a break, his near supernatural fighting ability more than a match for nearly anyone alive. A sudden thought jumped into his head. Well, the only one he could really say who was even was currently snuggling on his chest, fast asleep. A low rumble built in his throat. This morning had been perfect, a rarity these days. They would often return back to the city with a fresh set of injuries and stories to tell without much time to themselves, sometimes a day or two of leave. Their young bodies hadn't grown much since the battle with Malefor, and it wasn't expected they would hit the next growth spurt for a few years, when they were in their late twenties, something the eighteen year old dragons didn't want to worry about. While their size may have only increased by nearly a foot in both directions, him and Cynder had only trained and fought harder, their combined strength making up for their youthful size. Despite this, they both had an average height of about five and a half feet, still slightly above average for their age. Things didn't look to be getting better, so the new height and weight was appreciated. He would’ve never guessed that freeing the world from Malefor’s shadow would cause the planet to still be in the shade. It never really got to him too bad. The only way is forward, that’s what he had always been taught growing up. His adoptive dragonfly parents had been adamant about him keeping a positive attitude in spite of his differences growing up. Being ten times the size of everyone tended to cause some wariness towards the village’s resident dragon. His thoughts past this point just seemed to drift and come quickly. The light gradually got more bright as the sun rose in the sky. This was to the ire of a certain sleeping dragoness, who began to shift in response to the sudden heat on her face. “Turn the damn light off.” She mumbled into her nest of purple scales as she buried her head. He laughed, feeling the normally independent dragoness use him like an oversized pillow. “I’m afraid being purple doesn’t give you that benefit.” he stroked her head with a paw, running the tips of his claws over her ivory horns. The dragoness just grumbled and wriggled in his embrace. Her wings shuffled over her back, splaying around her form. “Well, I’m gonna have to court a dragon that can instead then, I suppose.” She raised her head and eyed him evilly, her tail tip swishing back and forth. “Ouch, you trying to injure me you little devil.” He smiled softly at her jab. She yawned before laying her head back down, gazing into his purple irises. Her jade eyes sparkled in the golden light of the sun and he felt his breath take for a moment. Noticing his sudden infatuated gaze, she chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Males.” She growled playfully. “All it takes is a bat of an eye to make you lose your head.” She wriggled free from his grip, and he reluctantly complied. Her eyes, still slightly groggy from sleep looked fuller than usual, like some energy had entered them. “More like your eyes, Cyn.” He leaned over and nuzzled her gently. She returned it without hesitation. She stretched widely, splaying her wings out and giving a satisfied groan. She turned to him, when he stared at her, expression unreadable. “C’mon purple boy, get up, let’s get ready for the day.” She turned around halfway, before turning her head and eyeing him from the corner of her eye. “And I don’t mean ‘up’ like that.” She rolled her eyes at his cheeky grin. “Of course Cynder.” He got to his feet, stretching his body in a similar fashion as she had. She pushed open his door, her sharp tail blade disappearing around the corner of the door frame by the time he had started moving. The teasing dragoness wiggled her hindquarters at him as he raced to catch up with her. Falling in step beside the black dragoness, he turned to see her smirking at him out of the corner of her jade eyes. His own eyes narrowed. “You’re being awfully playful this morning.” He raised a brow at his ebony companion. She merely laughed. “I’ve just been feeling good today, that’s all.” She leaned over and licked his cheek, before grabbing his left paw in her right. “And I’ve got you with me.” He blushed, the dragoness was cuddly when she was feeling depressed, but she was never really this affectionate before. Her independence seemed to shine through in this state however. It was the little things he noticed, she held her head higher than normal with a bright smile that he rarely saw from her. For the first time in a while she seemed truly...happy. Her smile was infectious and he turned to gaze into her eyes as well, smiling fondly. Suddenly she stopped and looked around, eyeing her surroundings anxiously. Spyro stopped as well and cast a nervous look at her. “Cynder?” He asked, bewildered. “I was expecting a certain little gnat to interrupt our moment.” She smirked at him and resumed walking. Spyro laughed and fell back with her. “Well, he’s back at home visiting Mom and Dad, no need to worry.” Punching him good naturedly on the shoulder, she snickered. “Why don’t we go give him a surprise.” She grinned slightly evilly at him. Eyes widening at the suggestion, he raised a paw to his chin. “What did you have in mind?” “Well, Sparx has always been skittish, and i'm in the mood to get a good laugh. Besides, I'd like to get away for a bit, you know, get some time together.” He pondered her suggestion as they cleared the entrance to the temple, the home of the governance of the dragon city of Warfang, the Guardians. They had given the pair the next five days for rest and respite, it wouldn’t hurt to take a bit of a siesta. Besides, it had been a long while since he had seen his adopted parents. Before he could voice his acceptance, a sharp pain racked his right foreleg. Wincing and yelping slightly, Spyro stopped, yanking the foreleg off the ground and bringing it to his belly. Cynder stopped, looking over her purple companion with alarm, before a look of understanding crossed her features. She winced. “Leg hurting again huh?” She questioned softly, sympathy in her voice. She knew his pain well. Each of them had taken some bad hits in the last three years, their bodies had taken a beating. Red gem treatments helped a lot, but some wounds would never fully heal. “Yeah.” He murmured lowly, casting a disapproving look at the heavily scarred limb. Carefully placing it back in the ground, he leaned more of his weight to his left. Even the slight motion of his right limb touching ground again caused a lance of pain to spike through it. He teetered for a moment, before his black scaled companion saddled next to him, leaning on his side to give him support. He muttered a thanks, sighing in pain, the purple dragon flopped back onto his haunches. Cynder took a seat next to him, watching him with a expression mixed with concern and pity. Bringing up the offending limb, Spyro sucked in a breath. Letting it back out resulted in a frigid blast of icy air that settled over the wounded leg. However unpleasantly the pricking sensation was, the numbness began to spread over the limb after only a minute or two. Pressing it experimentally into the ground, the purple dragon seemed to deem the results acceptable, and got off his rump, Cynder following suit. “That’s a clever trick.” She commented, eyeing the way he seemed to be walking almost perfectly now. He nodded once before resuming the walk to the outskirts of the large city. Along the way he grabbed a few Red gems from a vendor, doing his best to ignore the wary glances he kept casting at the purple dragon’s companion. As they neared the edge of the city, traffic began to heat up. Finding a side alley, the two dragons proceeded up the climax of a building, giving a fantastic view of the tan and white colored buildings that made up the city. Along the horizon, the rapidly climbing orb of orange light cast a beautiful image of pale yellows and sparkling wheat colored plains, grass shimmering in patches outside the walls. Taking in a deep breath of the fresh air, Spyro wandered to the edge of the tall building, casting a glance down, before falling backwards off the 200 some foot tall spire, letting gravity take him. A rush of exhilaration flew through him. Shouting in joy, he cascaded through the narrow openings in the buildings, flapping his wings and quickly gaining speed as he reached the city walls. A screech of wings behind him nearly sent him tumbling from the sky. Using a finely channeled current of wind, Cynder flew right past him, soaring into the sky, Spyro hot on her heels. Flapping her wings every so often, the dragoness’s sleek body shot through the clouds, a smile on her muzzle, teeth showing. Spyro couldn’t help but admire her form, she really was meant for the air. Sleek legs, beautiful wings, a lean form perfectly adapted to her. He gave a toothy grin, greatly pleased that this view belonged to him and him alone. Sensing his staring she look back at him as she slowed to a hover, the both of them several hundred feet above the ground. “What are ya staring at there Spyro?” She gave him a look, one that clearly said ‘I know exactly what you are staring at, and you better watch it well.' “Heh, nothing Cyn, nothing.” She rolled her eyes and gave a fake huff and turned to admire to landscape spanning around them. “Even with all of the destruction going on around us, at least we have a few like this still.” She had a content smile on her face as her emerald orbs took it all in. Green rolling hills and forests with small streams going through and around them as far as the eye could see. A long ways off, the familiar shapes and colors of the mushroom forest. The muddy browns and faded reds contrasting greatly with the vibrant greens. He noticed she winced a little as they lazily took off in the direction of the large mushroom forest. Her wings, tattered and torn in multiple places were a little too damaged to fly on their own. She made light of this disability by channeling streams of wind to keep her moving. However, it must have hurt to flap the tattered appendages for too long. She didn’t comment on this however and so they continued on for as long as the day would hold. Nothing of interest came up the rest of the day, and the two made their journey mostly in content silence, only having a few conversations within the day. The forest and trees passed quickly, going from a lush green to a slightly darker version of the color as the hours passed. Daylight fell over the next few hours, the dragons making a quick stop around midday to hunt before shooting back into the sky and resuming the flights well into the evening. An hour or two after the last ray of sunlight had fallen over the horizon. And the pair decide now was the best time to end their flight and rest their sore and aching bodies. Resting by the fire, the two dragons sat down, side by side against the chilly night. Firewood had been easy to find, and a simple bark of flames from Spyro gave the pair a bit of warmth against the Avalarian winter night. Not much was said between the two, both rather exhausted from the day’s long flight. Just as Spyro began to doze off, Cynder jerked away from him, getting to her feet rather quickly. He groaned, still rather sleepy and not liking the cold air suddenly brushing against his scales. “Cyn?” He questioned groggily. She looked back at him sheepishly. “Gotta go...uh...take care of business.” She smirked and jerked her head to the brush around them. Cheeks faintly glowing a light red, he cleared his throat and nodded, somewhat embarrassed. She just snickered and walked off into the woods a little ways. Turning his gaze back to the fire, the dragon lay down on his side, stretching a bit, before closing his eyes and turning his head a ways from the fire. With the warmth of the flames combined with the soft clicking of crickets and crackling of fire, he began to doze off a bit. * He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the sleepiness in his system left him instantly when he felt it. The air was suddenly stale, foul, horribly wrong. Raising his head sharply, the purple dragon scrambled to his feet, whirling around. His instincts were suddenly on high alert and he had no idea why. The forest seemed darker and the fire was gone. A cold, unnatural chill raced across his spine, and the darkness of the forest was closing in on him. That's when he heard it. A deafening, terrified scream rang out through the woods. Despite it possessing a haunting tone he had never heard before, he recognized the voice instantly. His heart stopped for a second, then paws scraped the ground and he was in motion. “CYNDER!” He yelled the name louder than ever before, an unfathomable fear coursed through him, something sickening. The woods began to close steadier and his heart raced, harder, and harder. Something was very wrong. The dragon couldn’t hear anything. After the scream the forest had gone completely silent. He could barely make out the crunching of twigs under his paws as they cut into the ground. He ignored the sharp pains as rocks cut into his sensitive pads, only worrying about finding his companion. His vision was getting fuzzy, the darkness ever consuming more of his line of sight. He began to hyperventilate, forcing more air than he should into his lungs. The air got more toxic and suddenly his world spun. He resisted the urge to vomit. Collapsing on his side, he was acutely aware of a horrific gurgling, sloshing sound coming from deeper in the woods. The sound wasn’t something from this reality could make, it reverberated in his skull, driving him insane. He screamed, clawing at his head, violently tearing a gash or two in his scales. The Sound was followed by a smell. Pungent didn’t even begin to describe it. His stomach heaved, but he couldn’t vomit. He couldn’t breathe. The nightmare was just getting started however. With an exploding roar, the forest suddenly became alive. That accursed sound coming from everywhere. It was surrounding him, all consuming. The monstrosity didn’t have a form, it was just raw terror and torment. The earth below him moved, tendrils caressing along the purple dragon's scales. Eyes widening, but unable to move, unable to thrash, unable to scream, the earth turned into something else. It felt like sticky, slimy flesh encompassing his own. The sound was full force in his ears, the unholy gurgling followed by a terrible sound of tolling bells and exploding horns. Blood vessels in the purple dragon’s eyes ruptured, turning his eyes a muted red. As everything reached a breaking point, it suddenly stopped, and pain was then all Spyro knew. He found himself able to move, able to scream, able to cry and vomit and bleed. Red hot agony exploded in his hind legs, and he screamed his throat raw. Bending his neck, and hearing a disturbing set of popping noises accompanying it, the dragon groaned and nearly went out cold as he surveyed the damage that thing had caused. Both of his hind legs were ripped open, scales littering the ground everywhere around them. The wound was cut right down to the bone, which were split in half cleanly. The legs themselves were holding on by a few strands of tough muscles. Through the pain, the puss and heavy bleeding was making it harder to keep his head up. Gasping as the lances of agony redoubled, Spyro gritted his teeth and reached for the satchel that had fallen off during his wild dash into the woods. It lay a few feet away, it’s precious contents of red gems already spilled all over the grassy forest floor. He wasn’t even sure how much they would do an injury like this, but he hoped they would at least keep him from bleeding to death. Each time he pulled his limp body along, he prayed to the ancestors that the muscles in his back legs didn’t snap off and leave him completely crippled and dismembered. It took a minute, but he dragged himself along the forest floor towards the life saving gems. Reaching out with a paw shakily, he smashed the gem and felt it shards began to do their work. Looking back, he saw that the bleeding had indeed mostly stopped, and a few strands of muscle had begun to reattach themselves, but the injury was still extremely bad and needed attention. He felt fear worm it’s way into his adrenaline fueled mind. How the hell was he going to get to help this far out in the wilderness? There was no way he was flying, not when the speed and air resistance could sheer his limp hind legs off so easily. Maybe Cynder could give them some form of smooth jet stream. Wait… “Cynder!” He croaked out, his throat acting like it hadn’t worked in years. He swallowed hard, calling her name out once again and getting no response. He tried to scream, but his throat refused to cooperate. Only on his third attempt did he hear something. A rustling, heaving sound coming from the woods where he thought he heard her scream. Preparing for the monster that did this to come back, the dragon summoned what little strength he had left, and forced his forearms up and under himself. However, instead of something terrible, out came the dragoness. Her ebony scales were bloodied slightly and her eyes puffy and red, but otherwise alive. When her eyes found his, she nearly collapsed. He was horrified when she limped into the small clearing he lay in. Her sides were a shredded mess of flesh and scales, through some of the deeper cuts, her rib cage was partially visible. Seeing her immense struggles and pain, he grabbed a gem and tossed it her way. The black dragoness barely caught it, stumbling as her wounds bled all over the ground. The flow was stemmed partially when she crushed it in her jaws, unable to lean far enough to place it down without exacerbating her wounds. She moaned as some of the pain left her body, yet she still struggled to get to him. “Spyro…” She whispered, so quietly, that he more saw the movement of her mouth as opposed to any words being said. “I know….” He croaked. “I know.” It was back. With a jolt, he felt the air change once again, however this time they were together, and they refused to be caught off guard again. It seemed to close in faster this time. The smell coming almost instantly following that terrible gurgling sound. And then they saw it. In an instant, their world turned to lava and fire. Words didn’t describe its form. The mass of flesh with a thousand eyes and a thousand mouths stared deeply into the two dragons. In the distance the bell tolling rang, louder and faster this time. The being seemed to follow them, looking the same as the two’s heads moved in different directions. Cynder broke from her terror induced trance first, gnashing her jaws in sudden anger. Her maw was suddenly engulfed in bright purple fire as convexity crawled to the surface. The being seemed to contemplate this for a second as it stopped writing and the noises slowed, the constant gurgling and ringing of bells. Then it’s force tripled. Spyro nearly blacked out, his head felt like it was exploding, but he did his best to conjure up convexity in desperation as Cynder had. This seemed to enrage it further. It’s mass began circling them more now, forming a tight circle around the two huddled dragons. Just when it was within a foot of touching them, Cynder screamed, the action sounding wet and deranged, unnatural and demented, like that of a cornered animal at the limits of it's sanity. “NOW!” Two beams of convexity impacted the tightly condensed coils of mass just as they seemed to jump out at the two wounded dragons. With a force greater than any they had ever felt, the beams tore through the being. From the ashes, a sharp tidal flow of energy rushed at them. Ashy, dark grey light poured from the wounds, washing over them with the intensity of a tsunami. Spyro felt like he was drowning, and to his right Cynder seemed to be in a similar state. Gradually the forest began to light up and the bell reached a fever pitch of heavy intensity. Within seconds, he was overwhelmed and with a feeling like his skull had just imploded, Spyro blacked out. * * Cynder jolted upright, breathing raggedly. She closed her eyes and groaned when she felt the effects of a splitting migraine break through her skull. Sitting back on her haunches, she heard the sound of a chain pulling roughly on her. Tilting her head back, she realized she was chained by her neck to a wall. Cynder's breath hitched rather violently, eyes widening in a primal sense of fear. Upon further inspecting she noticed that the chain was unlike any metal she had ever seen. It was white and seemed to almost glow. In fact the whole rest of the room was a painfully bright white color. A twinge of numbed pain coursed through her sides. Surprise flooded her as she looked down at her barrel and found that the majority of the wounds had been expertly patched up, the fabrics showing large red stains however signified that the effects of the red gems must have worn off by this point. It’s been a while then. Unhappily, she realized that she was once again stuck in a cell, chained to a wall. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she probably would’ve panicked and busted anything on her attempt to get out of this prison. However, she was weak and still adrenalized from her and Spyro’s run in with that abomination. The thought of her purple companion brought a sense of worry immediately to the surface. His injuries had looked nasty, she prayed to the ancestors that whoever patched her up did the same for him. A steady clipping sound echoed down the hall, bringing her attention upwards. She forced her weak body to respond, moving into an uneasy combat stance. Her tension escalated as the sound grew louder, her nerves still hopelessly frayed. A few seconds passed, though they felt like hours, and Cynder felt like she was about ready to jump out of her scales. It stopped outside the door, just out of view. What rounded the corner was not what she expected. A quadrupedal purple...thing. Covered from head to...hoof in lavender fur, a horn emerging from the center of her head. Bound across her back were a pair of large feathery wings. It looked at her, seemingly only mildly surprised to find her awake, but more surprised at how she already able to move as she was. Cynder was confused, this creature didn’t seem the least bit threatening. She dropped her guard for a moment and couldn’t stop herself from speaking. “Who...Who the hell are you?” It pondered her for a moment, before speaking. “I’m Twilight, and I saved your life.” The creature spoke softly, staring at her with a mixed expression of pity and slight anxiety. Cynder wasn't too shocked to feel the latter emotion given her tarnished reputation, but the former came as a surprise. "Where's Spyro?" She demanded, keeping her defensive posture. The equine didn't seem very surprised by her angry tone, but her eyes narrowed slightly, casting the dragoness a weird look. A wondering look seemed to linger for a moment, before she realized who she was asking about. "Being kept in a similar condition as you. He was much worse off, we had to keep him in surgery for a bit longer than you." Cynder's eyes widened. Surgery? She hadn't seen the extent of the damaged caused to her purple companion, aside from the gashes around his head and neck. Worry colored her tone. "Where did you find us?" Her anger was diminished slightly, now filled more with a trembling fear as the nightmare in those woods came back to her. The lavender Alicorn seemed a bit surprised at the question. She tapped her chin and sat back on her haunches, thinking for a moment. Cynder's piercing gaze never left her. "How much do you remember?" Twilight let her gaze fall back to the dragoness. Cynder's posture fell slightly, a shiver running across her spine. When the dragoness found herself unable to respond, Twilight sighed. "Well, eye witnesses say you and that other dragon suddenly appeared on the outskirts of the Everfree forest, shrieking and firing blasts of purple energy everywhere. You were yelling something about an eldritch demon, while your companion writhed on the ground tearing at his head with his claws." Twilight gave her another pitied look before she continued. "You can understand that you two were not allowed to continue in that condition, we couldn't risk you harming any ponies that happened by you." Cynder was shocked. She didn't remember that part. The last thing that her fuzzy mind could conjure up was feeling desperation and terror like she'd never felt, when that thing began to close in around them. Convexity followed naturally after that, the unstable energy doing as it always did and tearing apart whatever it hit. Bringing a paw up the her aching skull, she tried to recall what Twilight had mentioned, but all she could get was a vague feeling of fear. "What happened to you two? We need to know, something like that isn't taken without consideration around here. Monsters aren't too uncommon." Twilight seemed apprehensive, clearly unnerved by the level of violence done to the two dragons. "Where is here exactly?" Cynder questioned her, a sudden fire born in her voice. When had the world turned so lopsided. In all her ventures she had never encountered anything like Twilight, or that monster in the forest for that matter. "Equestria." She smiled. "Specifically, Ponyville. More specifically, you're being held in my castle at the moment." Castle? Cynder was starting to get nervous. Was this little equine in front of her some kind of royalty. Looking her over, she certainly gave off that appearance. Her...forearms? She wasn't really sure what to call them, were embroiled in some kind of gold shoe, while a crown adorned by gems sat on her head, resting atop a mane of navy and pink hair. She certainly had a poppy appearance. "Now-" Cynder's concentration returned to her captor once she began to speak again. "Who might you be, and I'll ask again, what happened to you two?" "My name is Cynder." Her suspicions were confirmed true as the pony didn't even bat an eye at her name. They must have been rather far from her home for that name to not carry it's usual stigma and fear. "I'm a dragon." "Yes, I figured that much, though we often don't see dragons this far away from the kingdom." Cynder was once again confused. What...what kingdom? She didn't voice it however, as she was still unsure of this creature's intent. Best not to give away any weakness. For now she was concerned with gathering information that would help her and Spyro escape. "I can't remember much of what happened before now." The black dragoness lied. "Most of my memory is still hazy and unclear." If the equine could tell she was lying, she didn't show it. Instead she just sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Figured as much. With the extent of the trauma you two looked to have went through, you mind is most likely washed it all out to protect itself." Looking a bit dissatisfied with the answer, the equine got back to her feet and addressed Cynder once again. "You need to stay here and rest. My apologies for the chain, but we couldn't be sure whether or not you would try to harm anypony once you awoke." Cynder turned and pulled on the chain. "Can you remove it?" She forced as much submission into her voice as she could choke down. Twilight regarded her for a moment, biting her lip. Nodding once, her horn lit up in a violet glow and surrounded a key from thew bag on her side. Cynder tried to keep a straight face, but felt her knees go slightly weak. These things had telekinesis? Mouth dry, the black dragoness watched apprehensively as the key floated through the bars before sliding into a lock on the back of her neck. A quick click followed, and the chain slid off, colliding with the ground in a loud clang that made her head pound. Gritting her fangs, the ebony female refused to show it had affected her. "Guards shall return with a meal and drink for you soon enough." Twilight seemed to gain some cheer into her voice. "Then we will just have to keep an eye on you for the rest of the day and make sure you remain stable, then we shall see about returning you to Dragon lands." Cynder called out for her just before she rounded the corner. "Wait." Twilight stopped and cast a questioning look over her shoulder. "What are you exactly?" Twilight regarded her strangely. "I am a pony." She appeared surprised by Cynder's blank look, but when nothing followed her brief explanation, she turned the corner, her hoof steps echoing down the hall, followed by the sound an extra pair of them. Confused, Cynder's mind could only conjure up one thought. "What the hell is a pony?" * Twilight sighed as she trotted into her study. Plopping her saddle bag next to her desk, she pulled the chair up and fell back into it heavily. The last few days had been crazy, even by Ponyville standards. The screaming and flashes of light from the Everfree had culminated in those two dragons appearing on it's outskirts. She hadn't been there herself originally, but she had seen the wounds that had been on them. Creatures of the Everfree wouldn't hesitate to try and maim what they saw as prey, but dragons? Dragons were an apex predator in their own right. What could've have gotten them to cause such mental and physical damage. Twilight rubbed her skull, thinking back to that day. The energy spike had been felt by every unicorn in Ponyville, something powerful had breached their world. History in Equestria had told of rifts to other worlds and dimensions, but they didn't often drop creatures that existed on Equis in the first place, if the unusual circumstances around those two were to be connected in that manner. Those Dragons were enigmas. They didn't have the same appearance and mannerisms, at least from what she could tell with her brief interaction with the female who called herself Cynder. Even under their magic resistant scales, she could feel the power that existed within them. Especially the purple one, she recalled Cynder calling him Spyro, despite being on death's door had an extraordinarily potent power yield resonating within his core. She presumed that was the only reason he survived his wounds to begin with. It would take a t bit until he awoke, and until then she could't guess the state of his mental health, but she had seen firsthand his delusional screaming. How he tore himself to ribbons and writhed like something was moving through his body. The image was haunting. Rubbing her eyes, she logged the report as best she could, noting the peculiar circumstances leading to their arrival at the edge of the forest, and the strange sounds that were heard from the Everfree the previous night. She didn't want to request help from Equestria's leaders yet. As much as she hated involving her friends in danger, she was worried that she may have to. Something about this whole situation felt unnatural, otherworldly. For now, she would take the only course of action she felt she could. She would attempt to get as much information from them as she could. The purple one was unlikely to awake for the next few days, in the mean time she would have to gain Cynder's trust. Something about the dragoness popped out to her. She was somewhat agitated and distrustful, like the many dragons she had met, barring a few. However this felt different. It wasn't malice that seemed to drive her. The enigma that was the black dragoness would be a fun one to solve. Befriending someone like that would be hard, but she never was one to turn down an opportunity to help a soul in need of it. She laughed to herself. My, have things changed since she first arrived here. Going from an anti social bookworm, to befriending dragons and monsters. After scribbling down the rest of her findings, mainly those relating the state of the injuries and the conversation with Cynder in more detail, Twilight set her tools down and walked to her window. The setting sun cast a shadow on the ominous shadow of the Everfree forest, looming in the distance. Nothing ever seemed to go right around that cursed place, even now with the Tree of Harmony residing in it. It seemed the woods were just permanently cursed, ever seeking to bring misfortune on those around it. Well it wasn't anything Ponyville, couldn't take. They had fought it all before, there wasn't much that could threaten her friends or her kingdom anymore. She felt the power of the Alicorn within her. And a bright, determined smile broke her lips. With her friends by her side, nothing from that forest could truly hurt them. Rainbow Dash, the newly appointed leader of her guard. The Pegasus had really shown her flying and precision abilities. That loyalty made her an amazing guards-mare. Despite her eventual dreams still being set on the Wonderbolts, the mare had felt that a premier job working for the protection of her best friend, and a princess no less, was an offer too tempting to pass up. Rarity had begun to really expand her skills outside of just those of a seamstress, though a master of her craft she really was. The exploration of the Everfree would be much safer with the money and skilled equipment that Rarity could provide. The generous mare had grown an affinity for specialized orders when it came to clothing, something akin to camouflage would be easy to create. The raw strength of a strong mare like Applejack was something most creatures couldn't really contend with. The earth pony had a buck that could knock a Manticore down for several hours. Her sense of smell was weirdly unparalleled, nothing would sneak up on them. They would avoid violence as best they could, and having an early warning system in the mare's nose would be key. She considered also bringing Applejack down to meet Cynder next time she visited. The farm pony wasn't a built in lie detector, but she had an odd ability to catch the ticks of those she talked to. IF worse came to worse, Fluttershy could calm down anything that really wanted to make them pay for trespassing. The timid Pegasus might lack the confidence to talk to many of her own species on even terms, but her way with members of other species was unparalleled. For one, nothing could really get past her Stare if it came down to that. Whatever weird voodoo magic lay behind it, it did it's work as a paralysis and semi mind control agent. Perhaps that's why she hated using it so much. And finally there was the party pony, the defiler of natural laws. Pinkie Pie was pretty much a last resort when it came to danger. The pony was a constant source of morale, constantly showering those around her in goodnatured cheer. Nothing would truly be able to break the group's spirit when she was around. The pink mare's habit of breaking natural laws was also half the reason they escaped so many of the dangerous jams that Ponyville often found itself in. With the group, there was nothing that could break them, they would be invincible, just as they had always been. "You are mysterious, but I will uncover you eventually. I'm going to love finding you out." Oh how wrong she was. * * * > The Long Way Down > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day passed rather slowly to her. Nothing to do, besides wait. Cynder had always considered herself patient, but even that had it’s limits. She was on edge, needed something to do, something that would stop the insistent itch across her scales. She had fought her way through hell multiple times over, killed beings the size of mountains, slaughtered entire armies by herself. But boredom claimed her faster than any of them would. Waiting around in this cell, without a clue as to where exactly she was. That...pony... or whatever she called herself had claimed they were in Equestria. Nothing like that had ever rung a bell with her. Despite her tactical awareness of most areas in the realms, a necessary skill she had acquired back when she served Malefor, it was useless as of this moment. This Equestria had never been on any map she had ever seen. The creatures that Twilight was were even more foreign. Quadrupeds were a bit uncommon, dragons really being the only species in the realms that were not bipeds. So, what were they, and where did they come from? She racked her brain for an answer the remainder of the day, yet nothing came to mind. This inability to find her answer quickly frustrated the inquisitive dragoness. Without anything to occupy herself and the answers to her questions remaining painfully out of reach, Cynder did the only thing she could think of. She planned. Despite the seemingly peaceful intentions Twilight had portrayed, Cynder wasn’t so naive to believe that this was the case. Paranoia had saved her more times than she could count, and even though her examinations of the finer details of Twilight’s form leading her to believe that the pony belonged to a herbivorous, physically smaller species, the black dragoness refused to drop her suspicion. Her own inability to trust had kept her out of danger, and she wouldn’t drop it in the face of these odds. For one, the cage she found herself in was almost perpetually demeaned of shadows. While this would’ve been unsurprising had Cynder been in the presence of someone who knew her past, it seemed unlikely this was intentional. Why would they deprive her of her ability to shadow split if they didn’t even know she possessed it, then? Well, that was an answer that would be rather difficult to find cleanly. The dragoness made the decision to just wait until Twilight returned before jumping to any extreme conclusions. Her reluctance to act on her limited information didn’t stop her from coming up with a plan however. The cell didn’t seem to be lit with natural light, and feeling out her control over wind didn’t yield any results. That only meant one thing: something outside of natural light was keeping this place from falling into darkness. Cynder’s sense of time wasn’t her strongest area, so she wasn’t even sure if it was night yet. Guard shifts gave her no indication either. She hadn’t tried to talk to them, but given what stoicism she could see from her limited vantage point, they may have just refused to acknowledge her either way. Speaking of Guards, they gave her another bit of data she used to formulate her plan. They were male, if their larger forms and square jaws were anything to go by. They were slightly unnerving, if she could be completely honest. She had observed them for a few minutes straight at one point, and they didn’t blink except for once during a large period of time. She wasn’t sure how they could remain completely motionless either. The shift had only happened once in what she assumed had been several hours. If she hadn’t been keeping her hearing tuned on the limited breeze that flowed down in what she presumed was a network of tunnels, she would have missed it. If their commitment was anything to go by, their combat abilities wouldn’t be lacking. Frustration quickly found her again. There wasn’t really much to work with here! Biting her tongue, Cynder halted what would’ve quickly turned into a string of curses that more than likely would have drawn a fair amount of attention that she didn’t want. Sitting down heavily, the stressed dragoness brought a paw to her head and rubbed her eyes, adjusting the steel choker around her neck for a moment. Well, this was bound to be a long night. Again, without any way of judging time, Cynder quickly fell back into her pacing, opening up every little opening she had gathered from the place she found herself in. Brute strength wouldn’t get her through those bars, she had pulled on them with the assistance of all her strength, but they refused to budge. Maybe if Spyro was at full strength he could break them, or melt them. Pushing her worry for him to the back of her mind before it could latch onto her, Cynder once again analyzed the entire area of her cell, looking for any weaknesses she could exploit. A raw punch of convexity would smash through the bars without an issue. However, Convexity was rather volatile and one miscalculation of how much power she was feeding it could blow up the entire tunnel if not the whole damn castle. She would do it if it was her only way out, however she wanted to avoid killing until she needed to. Despite the imprisonment, she would rather avoid just outright slaughtering her captors. She knew she was running out of options at this point. None of her control over her power would allow her out of this cell without killing the guards outside of the door. Though killing was outside of her to do list, she would resort to it if it meant her and Spyro’s safety. As the hours passed, a pair of Guards appeared at the entrance to her cell. She eyed them from the corner of the room, noting their every moment. One was carrying a tray with something on it she couldn’t see, a glass of water blocking the view. The other she watched much more cautiously however. This one was carrying some sort of metal pike. They clearly had access to metal in bulk and had ways of smelting it. She noted this without much surprise. The bolts and screws on her cell were of a firm, strong metal. Ponies clearly had access to a good amount of production and metal supplies. Long confrontation with them would end badly, she couldn’t make herself a long term threat to them. Direct confrontation was very much unadvised, she surmised, not liking the odds one bit. Breaking from her thoughts, the one carrying the tray slid it through a narrow opening on the top off the bars, using that damned kinesis. That particular ability worked her up more than anything else. Before she had been broken from Malefor’s control, she had heard that he had been working on plans to control objects with gems, giving the power to the apes so that dragon structures would almost always fail. That scared her, even when she was his slave did she feel that was putting too much trust in the loyalty of the apes that worked for her. She prayed to the ancestors that this power was much less so in these ponies. Noting the connection that the aura surrounding an object was linked to the same color appearing around the horn of the pony wielding it, she presumed that it was the source of the power. “That is rather fragile, shouldn’t be too hard to break.” She thought grimly. Clattering on the ground quietly, the tray dropped from the white aura surrounding it. She eyed it warily, somewhat nervous to touch it. Would the aura have some sort of lingering effect on her if she were to touch it? Hell she hoped not, she had enough unknowns to account for right now. “Eat.” The guard said gruffly, before closing the slot at the top of her cell. Without another word the guards walked off, the clattering of the hooves fading into nothing. Once they were gone, did Cynder move. Peering around the corner of the doorway outside the cell, she noted that guards from before were still there, unmoving. Snorting quietly, Cynder stepped up the tray, sitting back on her haunches. Several large blue gems rested on the tray, along with a simple glass of water. Her eyes widened. Where the hell had they found blue spirit gems, and why would they give them to her? Blue spirit gems were something of a steroid for her kind, giving rather potent increases in total power levels. While dragons below the ages of those considered adult were never give them, she and Spyro had encountered them on their mission to defeat Malefor, she was intimately familiar with their extreme value. She wondered briefly what she was supposed to be seeing on this tray that was edible. Slightly amused at the thought of them thinking that dragons absorbed spirit gems by eating them, she picked one up, before slamming it into the cobblestone floor. The gem shattered as expected, but the shards remained there, unmoving. Glinting back at her tauntingly, Cynder frowned. “What…?” She pondered quietly, extremely confused as to why the shards weren’t absorbing into her body. Gently picking up one of the tiny bits that had broken off, she glared at it. She couldn’t feel the familiar internal energy that spirit gems contained. Instead the fragment stared back, unimpressed. It felt just like a normal rock. Rather alarmed by this, Cynder set what remained of the blue crystal back on the tray, grabbing a different one. Repeating the process yielded the same results, leaving the black dragoness rather flustered. Scratching at the metal shackles that adorned her forearms, Cynder fell deep into thought. Perhaps they had somehow drained the energy from them. Then why would they even give them to her in the first place? Was it supposed to be a taunt, meant to enrage her? Slightly indignant that they could be the case, Cynder set the crystal back on the tray, sweeping idly at the shards with a paw, collecting them into a tiny pile. The guards simple exclamation from earlier rang back into her head. Perhaps these weren’t actually spirit gems. That still left the unanswered question of why they would expect her to eat rocks. Despite any explanation not coming to mind, the black dragoness just shrugged, shedding her previous frustration. Realizing just how dry her throat was, the dragoness carefully took the glass in her claws. Tilting her head back, she poured the cool liquid down her throat. Gulping in as much as she could, she was careful to keep her claws wrapped tightly around the fragile glass. Breaking contact for a moment, she caught her breath. As she went to return the glass to her lips, she accidentally pressed a little too hard. A small crack appeared on the side of the glass. Pausing for a moment, Cynder eyed the crack. Her mind whirled. They had given her...glass. Glass of all things to a prisoner. The revelation tore through her like a tornado. Were they really this trusting or just very naive? Tilting her gaze up to make sure she was not being watched, Cynder quickly drank the rest of the cold water and set the glass down. She lifted a claw to the glassware, tracing the outline of the small crack. Spinning the glass around, the dragoness made sure that she had enough area to enact her spur of the moment opportunity. With extreme care, she dug a claw into the glass, watching with unblinking eyes as her claw slowly sunk into it’s surface. The tip of her claw broke through cleanly. Blinking once, relieved that she hadn’t damaged the glass beyond her intended target, Cynder carefully, slowly brought the clean cut upwards to just before the tip of the glass, making a jagged, bladed outline around the top. Again, she creeped her claw down the opposite side of the incision, bringing it to a round curve at the bottom. Making the two incisions meet at the middle, the newly cut shard of glass fell lightly into her open paw. Hiding what remained of the glass around the large blue gems, she eased the tray back closer to the bars, making sure that her handiwork wasn’t noticeable. It took a bit of doing and a few close calls, but the remains of the glass silently slid around and under a pile of the gems. Taking a step back, Cynder eyed the small shard resting in her open paw. Claws were plenty deadly, but they were not something she could use at range. Slipping the shard carefully against the upper half of her paw, easing it into place under one of her metal bracers, rounded side out. Once she was sure of it’s stability and that it wouldn’t accidentally slice her, Cynder returned to the darkest corner of the room, biding her time and waiting for her opportunity. If the lights didn’t dim soon, she would get her and Spyro out of this place, one way or another. * It didn’t take very long. Shortly following the next rotation of guards, which to her felt like several minutes, did the lights go. They seemed to fade into black out of nowhere. Ever present light that had flowed from the entirety of the ceiling was suddenly gone. She felt the entrance of her element flow through her, the slight weakness that the constant exposure to the combination of light, stress, and boredom conjuring seemed to dissipate. Getting up, Cynder silently crept to the edge her cell. Thankfully the Guards hadn’t bothered to check the tray they had given her. Were her captors really that foolish, with a shake of her head at their ignorance, Cynder cast her gaze outwards. The two outside the narrow door to her cell were still facing outwards in the hall, completely oblivious. Closing her eyes, Cynder tapped into her control over shadows. If one were to look, it was as if she had just vanished. To her eye, she sunk into the floor, the world seeming to flip along with her. In this state, the areas that happened to be lit by torchlight appeared as areas engulfed in darkness, while what was in actuality darkness, was easily visible to her. Stepping through the bars, the dragoness pondered her next move quickly. Even in this form she couldn’t risk the movement right by the guards, they would feel the cold chill of her form touch them slightly, giving them the idea to maybe check on her. Instead, she spread her influence through the wall diagonally. Her shadowy form seemed to split into fragments, jumping alongside the top corners of the wall and upon the ceiling. As the shards of shadow moved by unseen, they converged back into a vague inclination of her natural form back down a ways in the hallway, leaving no disturbances in it’s wake. It seemed her previous theories were right. Her expanded vision told her that hallway was a large square section of hallways with a cell the same as her own on each outside edge of the square, 4 in total, including hers. Her vision into the actual interior of the cells was limited. She would have to look through them the old fashioned way. Cutting off the semi-clairvoyance before it could drain her already weaker than normal stamina of anything else, she quickly moved down the hall. With care to avoid the occasional torch lighting the hallway, she slid her form down the hall. Not a sound was made, nor a single fluctuation of the natural shadows surrounding her. Rounding the first corner, she spotted nothing but an empty hall. Presuming that Spyro’s door was guarded in a similar, if not exactly the same fashion as hers, it would seem he wasn’t in the cell on this particular section. Sliding down to the door presented her with an empty cell, devoid of anything other than same rudimentary arrangements as her own. Interestingly, the far wall lacked the hook and ring that adorned the back wall of her own cell. It would seem that most prisoners down here weren't restrained. Growling at the inconvenience and the power drain she felt the shadow step having, the sound being rather distorted, Cynder moved through the long hallway at an increased rate. Once again avoiding the torches, the shadowy dragoness crept around the next corner, this one seeming to be slightly more lit than that of the previous one. Wondering at the odd burst of light, she paused. Her initial inspection hadn’t picked up on any patrols, at least none that were lit. Perhaps just a torch closer to the wall this time. Cautious, she peered around the corner, her billowing form of shadows drawing back in the presence of the light from a torch rapidly approaching her. Nearly at the corner, a guard approached, a lit torch floating in his telekinetic grip. Startled at the unexpected patrol that hadn’t appeared on her first stretch of clairvoyance, the dragoness drew on as much of her element as she could. Though the action nearly rendered her unconscious at the sudden use, Cynder once again broke her form off again, this time into much narrower shards of shadow. She cast herself into the corners of the ceiling, hiding from most of the light. The pony walked the hallway rather leisurely, and Cynder felt her blood running in her ears. Weakening rather substantially as she struggled to hold the corporeal form, Cynder trembled in her own mind. The instant that she felt she could move, she reattached herself, the nearly invisible billowing shadows coming together once again. Shakily, she raised a paw to her chest. She was ice cold, though that was to be expected in this state, but her heart was beating rather rapidly and she felt the drain it was starting to have on her was making her shroud contract and fluctuate at an alarming pace. She knew she would have to be careful. Not exiting this form properly could be disastrous, possibly with her ending up partially fused into a wall. Taking a quick breather, she once again rounded the corner. As expected, there they were. The two cookie cutter cutouts that plagued her door. Groaning silently, Cynder rolled her eyes. Why did they all look the exact damn same? Creeping to within a few feet of them, Cynder made a quick decision. The dragoness’s stamina was already draining, the weakness in her bones becoming more substantial. Throwing caution to the wind, she sped between the two guards, splitting herself around the bars. Hiding in the corner closest to the edge of the door frame, she held her breath. The guards seemed to feel the cold wind that was her shadowy form. She caught the eyes of one as it took a peek inside of the cell. It’s gaze didn’t leave easily. Making sure to scan every inch of the room. Doing her best to remain absolutely still, Cynder hoped that she hadn’t been compromised. The guard’s eyes seemed to settle on her corner, a piercing gaze starting directly into her. A moment passed and she felt her nerves about to snap. Before she could lunge from the shadows and silence him however, he turned his eyes back forward with a snort. Shakily letting out the breath, Cynder faded back in slightly, letting lose some of the tension she had been holding. Bringing a paw up, she checked her body. Seemed everything was in place. Peeking around the corner of the bars for a moment, making absolutely certain she was covered, the dragoness moved slowly. Stepping from the shadows, she melted back into her standard form. A sharp pain struck her side. Neck turning, her eyes darted down to her right forearm. A thick scrape was torn across the bottom of the limb, bleeding slowly. Wincing, she cursed her incompetence. The process of forming the shadows that contained her form back together was messy, sometimes wounds came as a result of missing a particular spot. Despite the aching pain, the dragoness was relieved to step from the shadows. The ability was often heavily draining, limiting it’s use. Not much she could do about it, the limits of reality were rather defined. Mother Earth didn’t like having her rules broken. Sitting back on her haunches for a moment, Cynder brought the opposite paw up to the wound. With a grunt, she clasped the paw all the way around her leg. A moment later a dim green glow pulsed through her claws and back into the covered wound. It only lasted a second, but the weak neurotoxin did it’s work, clotting her blood and erasing most of the sharp stinging almost instantly. Unclasping the limb, she checked her results. No bleeding, good. Still stung like a bitch to do that though. Getting back up silently, her attention turned to the limp figure lying at the back of the room. Plodding over grimly, Cynder sat by the figure’s side. He was utterly limp, purple scales seemingly paler than normal. Hesitantly bringing a paw to his side, Cynder nearly collapsed in relief when she felt his natural body heat burning back, however it was noticeably diminished. It was just then that she noticed his condition. Most of him was covered in thick swaths of white fabric, seemingly mummifying his body. Eyes watering a bit, she rolled him over. Facing her, she could truly see the extent of the injuries covering his body. His throat was wrapped in bandages, with most of the attention on the sides of his neck. Along the lines of his horns, rows of similar fabric, stained in red, covered most of his head. His closed eyes remained uncovered and for that she was extremely thankful. At least he hadn’t been blinded. Despite the steady breathing, he seemed to be forcing the breaths out a bit, almost as if his throat was partially blocked. The tough scale plates of his belly and chest were more or less unharmed. A bandage or two stuck to him, most of them on the narrow spots where plate met scale. Nodding once to herself, she was happy that the plates served their intended purpose. She had to restrict the gasp that threatened to break her cover. His hind legs were mangled, torn to shreds by the looks of it. She couldn’t even make out what was supposed to be under them. The heavy blanket of white prevented a single hint of purple from even shining through. They extended from the tips of his claws about half way up, becoming much less dense around the area where the hindlegs themselves connected to his torso. It was impossible for her to tell exactly the type of wounds those bandages hid, but the amount alarmed her. It must have been rather bad for this amount of coverage. Her mind wandered back to the conversation with Twilight earlier that day. She had mentioned offhandedly that he had been in surgery longer than she had. Her injuries were nothing to scoff at either, they certainly would’ve been lifethreathing if she hadn’t been helped. But this was bad, it was a wonder he was even alive. “Another perk of being purple, it looks like.” Cynder thought grimly. The blood loss alone should’ve ended him. Thank the ancestors for the red gems that he had thought to bring along with them. Bringing a paw up to the side of his face, she cradled it gently. The emeralds in her eyes shined with moisture. Closing her eyes tightly, she leaned down and kissed his snout gently. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I even suggested leaving.” The distraught dragoness whispered, almost inaudibly. Her tail fell limp on the ground. Cradling his head in her paws, she pressed her own against his. Whispering sweet nothings to him, hoping to ease his and her own pain, the black dragoness scooted closer. The feel of his heat brought some comfort to her. The stress and anger mixed. Fear and worry had made her body feel weak to this point. As she stared at his half-dead body, held limply in her arms, the dragoness felt herself near her breaking point. If she hadn’t suggested they leave for the Mushroom Forest they wouldn’t be in this mess. They would be safe and happy in their room, or enjoying their day together. He would be smiling and laughing, not barely breathing, dying slowly in this unknown place. But instead, they both found themselves horrifically wounded, trapped in a cold, dark prison. It was too much. Before she felt herself break completely, the dragoness had the foresight to conjure up a stream of concentrated wind. Spreading it quickly across the bars, she filtered any sound from the interior of the cell into the walls, the sound waves unable to get through the condensed stream of wind. Trembling hard, the dragoness shattered. With heavy sobs, she pulled him closer. Nuzzling into him as pained cries shook her body. Reaching desperately for him, hoping for him to wake, to hold her and tell her it was all going to be fine. Nothing came, and so she, stuck in the cold loneliness, unleashed the full weight of her sorrow, stress, and anger upon her unconscious companion. Moaning painfully into the air, she whined his name over and over. Careful not to aggravate his fragile form, Cynder drew her tattered wings around him, holding the limp body tightly against her shaking form. Most of the day she had been able to block out the fear, to focus on survival. Now, with him in her grip, mind no longer occupied, she couldn’t take it. Large drops of tears splashed against his head and muzzle as she held him tightly against her. His weight was heavy, as it was dead weight. Despite the pain growing not only in her heart, but in her forearms and wings, she held on. Afraid to let go. Afraid to be alone. Afraid to lose the only lifeline she had. Every shuddering, heaving breath hurt her lungs. Every sniffle burned her throat. As she lay there, cradling him, sobbing heavily, the minutes passed slowly. She didn’t care that she was spending too much time here. She didn’t care that she was compromising her entire plan. She just wanted to be secure. Even with him close to death, Spyro was her net, and it felt genuine. Even more so than before, she felt the determination swell. Despair crushed her soul, but she tried to endure. To brave the pain by herself, because for now, she must. She needed him, but now he needed her even more. She would not leave him here. Even if she died, she would not let him rot in this prison alone. About another twenty minutes had passed before her eyes began to dry. Feeling rather drained, Cynder sniffled, bringing a paw up to wipe her eyes. Her reddened eyes found his face again. He had not stirred even slightly by her pained shaking and sobbing. Sighing heavily and shakily, the dragoness began to mentally piece herself back together. Once again idly stroking his face and horns with her claw tips, the dragoness lost herself deep in thought. She had planned on busting him out of here and escaping into the night under the cover of complete darkness. That didn’t seem too possible now. He was not nearly an any condition to move, let alone fight his way out of a castle that was most likely littered with guards. She herself was feeling exceptionally drained and weak now as well. She couldn’t carry him and fight at the same time. Fear rose within her once more. This entire situation was still an unknown to her. They could be keeping them alive for any number of reasons and she wasn’t yet willing to believe they were doing it out of the kindness of their hearts. What was their damn motive! Anger crawled it’s way to the surface, easily finding hold in her frazzled emotions. There was no way out now. They had fallen down a deep pit. What really worried her was that she wasn’t sure if this was the bottom of if they still had a good ways to go. Whatever happened to them was largely out of her control. That feeling really pissed her off. Suppressing the urge to snarl, Cynder grit her fangs tightly. Caged once again. The feeling of being unable to control her path was one that could easily set her inner demons back out again. Rage was a powerful emotion, and nothing was more enraging to her than being trapped, chained like an animal. “Never again.” She thought. “Never again.” Setting Spyro’s head back onto the ground gently, Cynder pushed herself upright. One way or another, she would control this situation. She would bide her time. Regardless of their reasoning, they were healing her and Spyro. They would live their purpose. For now, she would gather as much information about their surroundings. Assuming that Twilight kept true to her word and revisited her, she would drag every answer out of her as she could. Manipulation of such a naive mind shouldn’t be too hard. If the pony’s intentions were really peaceful and harmless, she would get it out of her. Until then, she would wait. Lie in wait like a predator ambushes it’s prey. Giving one last longing look at her eviscerated partner, Cynder dispelled the cover of wind soundproofing. Walking up to the bars, she closed her eyes. Channeling what strength she had left, Cynder once again melted into the shadows. The pull came almost immediately. She knew she couldn’t hold this form for very long, the danger was all too severe. Slipping through the bars, Cynder wasted no time, shooting past the guards. Racing by them, she heard their collective grunts of confusion. She didn’t waste the time to even check if she had been detected. Shadowy paws colliding with hard stone at such a pace hurt, but she pressed forward. It seemed as if the universe was completely against her tonight. As she neared the corner of the hallway she had first entered from, a very familiar flash of light approached. Unable to simply break her momentum, Cynder split herself off, mashing herself against both walls. Stopped completely, the exhausted dragoness barely managed to pull herself together before a torch bearing pony rounded the corner. Once more taking off down the corridor away from the harsh light, the dragoness barrelled down the opposite way, just barely moving around torches. The pain of having bits of her shadow melted away momentarily was excruciating. Wanting to scream, Cynder pushed herself on ward. Just missing the ponies guarding the door, the shadows jerked around them, moving at a slowing pace down to the edge of the corridor. Hearing the start of an agitated conversation, Cynder moved beyond the bend of the hall. She was close now. Tiredly plodding down the torchless hall, she began to feel her consciousness wane. Drawing upon every ounce of spare energy and willpower, Cynder swiftly moved through the corridor. The complete darkness down this path made it much easier, not having to side step around splotches of torchlight. The bend came soon enough. Around it, she was greeted by the ever present sight of the white pony guards standing motionlessly outside the entrance to the room which her cell sat. It didn’t take much effort to get around them, but by this point the workload felt virtually impossible. Slipping between the torch light nearly killed her. Getting around the bars was even worse. However the second she was safely inside the cell, and this time properly put back together, Cynder stepped from the shadows. Stumbling and falling on her side heavily, Cynder panted quietly. Her limbs felt like they were on fire, a very stark contrast from the ice cold temperature her shadow step caused her to experience. The sharp change in temperature brought along a substantial aching, trembling feeling throughout her body. Moaning helplessly into the damp cell, Cynder rolled on her side. Scrambling backwards as best she could, the dragoness pressed herself against the farthest wall, the cool temperature easing her body slightly. Bringing a paw up to her chest, the limb shaking as she did, she caught the gaze of a confused guard. She only growled back for a moment. He appeared unimpressed then returned to his forward vigil. Biting back a string of indignant curses, the female lay herself down, doing her best to calm her rapidly beating heart. The ache in her body seemed to pulse along with the quick strokes of her heart, the blood circulating through her body felt like lava. The feeling was soon replaced by a sense of utter exhaustion permeating every cell of her body. Grunting uncomfortably, Cynder lolled her tongue out, breath hard, but holding in as much as she was able to. It took some time, but eventually her body began to calm down, attempting to piece itself after the near death of it’s host by overexertion. Minutes passed and Cynder found herself once again in control of her breathing and shaking limbs. Slowly, her breathing evened and the shake started to level out. Dropping her forearm tiredly, the dragoness laid her body out. “That was too close.” She whispered to herself. Feeling the exhaustion bearing down on her, Cynder closed her eyes. Despite the breakdown, she felt a bit better just knowing he was alive. For her that was enough. They would be fine, they would survive. She would do what she could from here. With that final thought, the dragoness let her mind go and the exhaustion claimed her. * “Spike? Spike!? Spiiiike?” A hollered out, calling for said Spike at around earth shattering decibels. Those around the voice would roll their eyes at the listlessness of the speaker. The calls stopped abruptly however. Twilight stood motionless for a moment, as if stunned by her own forgetfulness, a rather unusual break of character for her. A moment or two later, the lavender Alicorn sighed and shook her head. “I forgot he’s not here.” She pouted for a moment, a childish frustration appearing momentarily. Shaking her head, the mare trotted to her desk, retrieving a quill and pen in her magical grip. Scribbling down a list of daily chores, she paced in circles around the center of her rather spacey bedroom, though most would say her head had that room beat on space by a good margin. “Hopefully he returns from Ember soon, I miss having him around.” She muttered wistfully. His venture back to dragon territory had taken a little convincing on his part. She was still a bit worried about him going back there without her, however Ember had assured her he would be in good hands. Though, having both of them, particularly Ember would be very convenient right now. She still was little bit unsure of what to do about her two visitors downstairs. She planned on eventually letting them wander once their wounds had healed up, but she was a little worried for the safety of those in Ponyville. She wasn’t xenophobic, not like nearly all of Ponyville, but she had gotten some rather harsh vibes from the female, Cynder. It may have just been she was stressed by her circumstances, but the dragoness gave off a rather unstable vibe. Maybe after she conversed with her later would she judge whether or not she needed to contact Ember and have them escorted back. Ember would probably a little annoyed about having to come this far, but it was her subjects that had nearly caused a rather bad incident. Giving it some thought, Twilight still wasn’t sure what to believe regarding what Cynder told her. The dragoness, aside from her attitude, was a bit of an enigma. Her body was unlike any dragon she had encountered. Jet black scales, walked on four legs, and bearing more substantial scarring than even some of the nearly primordial dragons she had met. Truly a stranger indeed. But, they hadn’t actually harmed anypony, so she couldn’t keep them locked down there forever. Well at least Cynder anyway. The purple one most likely wouldn’t be moving much for a while. Making up her mind, Twilight added “Discuss Freedom with Cynder” to the bottom of her schedule for the day. Checking the list and making sure it was up to par, Twilight rolled up the list and stuck it into her saddle bag. Floating the pen back to it’s spot on her desk, Twilight proceeded to her door. Flipping the lock up, the mare galloped down the long set of crystal stairs, finding the castle empty aside from the two stallions on either side of the front gate. Trotting over to the massive archway that served as the front door, she greeted the guards with a friendly smile. Each of them nodded silently in unison, keeping their normal stoic posture. Rolling her eyes at their serious behavior, Twilight pushed the gate open, to which each of the stallions replied with a bow and waved her forward. A bright sunny day shined down on her as she exited the castle. Glad to see that the weather team had planned a beautiful afternoon on this weekend, Twilight happily strolled down the dirt path leading into Ponyville. “Ok, so first I need some lunch.” Her stomach growled in response. “Yeaaah, definitely some lunch.” Heading still on her directed course into town, Twilight surveyed the skies. A momentary scan revealed what she had expected and she shook her head. No sign of her captain of the guard. More than likely out doing faust knows what. Despite the infraction, this didn’t really bother Twilight all that much. The position was more or less formal, not too much of a guard presence was really needed in the town as due to her friends being it’s primary protectors. However, it was rather unusual for Dash not to be flying around and about town on this kind of day. “She’s probably not even out of bed yet.” The alicorn mumbled to herself, a lopsided grin on her face as she thought of the chromatic pegasus still asleep on a Saturday afternoon. Lazy one she could be when she tried. As the view of Ponyville came more into view, Twilight notice that the town was a little more deserted than to be expected on a Saturday afternoon. While not too much of a difference, there was a reasonably noticeable desertion about the town, with only a few ponies aside from shopkeepers really milling about. Pondering this as she approached, Twilight couldn’t really come up with much of an answer. Lighting up her horn, she scanned the town as best she could from distance. Moments later she found her answer. For whatever reason, many of them were inside the bakery. Racking her brain gave no answer. Deciding to dwell on that after lunch, the lavender mare, entered town. Those who she came across greeted her cordially. Noting a general air of unease around those who wandered about, twilight attributed it to them being a little nervous after the past few days. “Not that I even blame them.” She murmured aloud. “Been some weird things going on as of late.” As she quickly trotted her way around, she came to a stop at an outdoor restaurant serving her usual lunch. Daisy sandwiches, couldn’t ever go wrong with the simplicity. The waiter didn’t even have to ask what she wanted. Twilight chuckled. She had a reputation for being a rather punctual mare. Settling down as she ate, she rolled open her bag, producing her long list of daily activities. Quickly checking off Lunch as she munched on her sandwich, the lavender mare’s eyes scanned the next part of the list. “Find Rainbow Dash (Good luck with that) and investigate outskirts of Everfree forest further.” The investigation had previously been postponed after the chaos had almost driven the town into a panic. Twilight had been so caught up with making sure the town didn’t implode and getting those dragons to the nearest hospital that she had been unable to procure a thorough investigation of the mysterious area around the Everfree. Rainbow was going to help with that, but she was the only one that could fly the dead weight to the hospital in time. The spell Twilight had cast on them hadn’t even slightly worked, that just seemed to absorb the energy. Dragons often had that effect. What an aggravating skill. Finishing up her sandwich, Twilight rolled up the list and put it back in it’s place. Leaving a few bits in her table, the mare got on her hooves and thought for a moment. Now, where would Dash be. She supposed that if she wasn’t somewhere already in the sky she was most likely asleep. Although, the commotion at the bakery wasn’t a bad first place to check. Nodding to herself once, twilight blinked to the front door of the bakery. A noticeable amount of noise was being made, even from the outside. Slowly pushing the door open, the mare peeked inside to find an interesting sight. A large crowd of ponies was gathered around a pink mare standing on top of the counter, waving her hooves around in all directions as she animatedly told a story. “...They were all firing lazers everywhere! Blasting everything with weird funky purple energy, and do you know where they got it from?!” The crowd all seemed to shake their heads, looking a little bit perturbed. The pink mare took a deep breath, making the crowd bate it’s own breath. Casting her eyes around the entire crowd several times, then she spoke “I don't know!” She said cheerfully, jumping off the counter and getting behind it once again. The crowd gaped at her, groaning as they all realized they had been duped by the pink mare’s persistent randomness once more. Twilight rolled her eyes with a large grin on her face. Scanning the crowd she found the mare she had been looking for. Dash leaned over the counter. “Got em good pinks!” She whispered, slapping hooves with the pink mare. Pinkie just nodded, holding in her laughter. She smiled brightly as she saw her purple friend walk up the counter. “Hiya Twi!” The pink mare greeted, her normal bubbly tone echoing around the building. Most didn’t hear this though as they had mostly filed out of the building in muted disappointment. “Hey.” Twilight greeted back calmly. “Sorry Pinkie, but I gotta steal Rainbow from you for a few. I’ll be back with her shortly." The pegasus in question gave her a confused glance. Before she could open her mouth, the mare behind the counter beat her to it. She shook her head, the smile still on her face. “No problem Twilight, I’ll catch up with you two later.” With a weirdly voiced ‘ta-ta’ the bubbly mare trotted through a door at the back of the room. Rainbow turned to her as their pink friend left. “Well that was strange. So, what’s up Twi?” The pegasus gave her the trademark smirk. “We still have to handle the investigation of the place where the two dragons appeared.” “Oh the one’s that nearly blew up Ponyville?” The pegasus replied with a sarcastic tone, her wings twitching reflexively. “Yeah.” Twilight deadpanned. “Those are the one’s.” “Hmm.” Rainbow hummed falling in step beside the Alicorn as they left the bakery. Rainbow popped off the ground hovering above the ground beside Twilight. “So, they give you anything?” Twilight glanced at her. “Well only the girl woke up, you know, the one with the black scales?” Rainbow nodded so she continued. “Couldn’t remember much and had a bit of a stale attitude, but she said her name was Cynder.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Dragons, what is with em?” Dropping the slightly agitated stance, she perked up. “Cynder huh?” She said the word, tasting it on her tongue a few times. “Yeah, and the purple one is Spyro.” “Oh?” She seemed a bit more interested. “He was rather...beat up. How’d you get him to wake up?” “He didn’t, but Cynder told me his name. Couldn’t get much else out of her though.” Twilight seemed a bit pouty that she was being denied information and Rainbow laughed. “They’ll have to give something eventually. It’s not like they can leave.” “They aren’t prisoners, Dash. Once they are in better condition they can got back to where they came from.” “What!” She exclaimed, giving the Alicorn an incredulous look. “Not criminals? They nearly blew up Ponyville and almost killed two ponies that got near them!” The pegasus scoffed. Twilight breathed a sigh tiredly. “I know. Listen, let's just find out what we can, we’ll decide what to do about them later. For now, they are just considered hospitalized.” Rainbow gave her a strange look. “Not sure they are gonna buy that Twi. Patients don’t usually have armed guards.” Twilight didn’t answer. Soon enough the imposing figure of the Everfree arrived on the horizon. The forest seemed darker as of late, much more foreboding than it had ever been before. The signs of the confrontation a few days previous were still rather visible. Craters pockmarked the immediate area around where the two dragons had first been spotted. It wasn’t a very long walk to the site, Twilight could still sense the strange magical residue from nearly a mile away. Within minutes the small dips in the ground became more common. Closer to the site, the ground and surrounding fauna had been twisted and gnarled in unusual ways. Anything from stray trees being bent all the way 90 degree to the side, to entire patches of grass and flowers being dead or withering. Something strange was happening here. The actual area that dragons had been spotted wasn’t very difficult to locate. A large patch of grass with blood stained into it and the dirt marked where the mortally wounded dragons had been rescued...or captured. Shaking her mind free of the slight guilt that Rainbow’s argument had made, she examined the grass in further detail. “Dash, go see if you can find anything of interest.” The pegasus saluted and without a word took to the skies. It seemed that she knew it was time to get down to business. Twilight didn’t watch her go, instead she examined the grass intently. The Alicorn lit her horn, plucking a few clumps of the sticky material. The dark red substance had gone well beyond drying by this stage. Twilight attuned her horn to feel around the blood itself. Blood, even very old blood contains trace amounts of magical signatures. This blood, if it’s fresh enough can be linked to magical output’s given by the pony it belonged to. The magical essence was latent, so it didn’t matter if the blood belonged to a unicorn or not. She was having trouble here though. This blood contained nothing she was familiar with. The latent energy was there, but it was strange. Foreign. Alien. It was obvious it belonged to one of the two dragons, but she couldn’t grasp the magical signature the blood contained. It wasn’t something her magic could lock onto. Usually when this technique is used to identify either victims or criminals, the signature is picked up from the blood and logged within the aura of the investigator, something like computer storage. While the signature wasn’t like a tracking device that will lead to somepony directly, if their aura is on file somewhere, the two can be matched. Suspects in crimes are brought in and blood is drawn to gather the latent signatures of who it could belong to. The process is virtually impossible to trick or fake, let alone mess up. But that begged the question of why this particular signature was slipping through her grasp like sand through fingers. It wasn’t because they were dragons, that much she knew. Spike had his aura on file. Though hard to do and often requiring a bit of effort, Twilight had no issues encompassing and capturing the signature. But this was downright impossible. It shouldn’t be possible for this to be happening. It wasn’t like she could touch it but it kept moving, it was as if she fazed through it every time she tried to grasp it. It was almost like it was in a different dimension… The revelation made her sick. That explained everything. Their strange appearance, Cynder’s ignorance to her kind, their unusually powerful magical signatures. It explained the odd happenings that the Everfree went through that night. It explained why Cynder seemed so reluctant to talk, to give away anything. The dragoness knew all along what had happened to her that night, yet she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to give away that her, a very powerful being from the strength of her signature and the quick nature at which she healed from her wounds, was nearly slaughtered by something she couldn't fight. It explained why their injuries weren’t of anything this world could make. Why they seemed so abnormally terrified when they were first found. They weren’t having delusions based on some creepy thing they had seen in the Everfree by chance. They didn’t come from the Everfree. They didn't come from Equestria or the Dragon Kingdom. They didn't originate from Equis at all. They were from a different dimension. A different reality. And something brought them here. Something was hunting them after arriving in the Everfree. As if the world was trying to make her realize something was horribly wrong, an unearthly rumble resonated from within the forest right in front of her. That sound was horrible. It didn’t sound like thunder… It was almost like….bells….and sirens. She cast her gaze up, terrified and caught the gaze of something staring at her. It was gone the second she looked. A chill went down her spine and she took several steps back, her heart pounding in her ears. Visions flooded her head, brief scenes of catastrophe flashing through her magically sensitive mind. Screaming at the top of her lungs with magically amplified vocals for Rainbow Dash to follow her, the mare turned tail and ran off, faster than ever before. She had just gotten herself involved in something. She was desperately hoping it wasn’t too late to back out. > When our Chains are Broken... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- She was alive. The nearly fatally fast pounding in her chest told her that much. Blood as hot as an open flame coursed through her veins at unhealthy speeds. Her ears picked up a thudding, she didn’t know nor care if it was simply the pounding of her hooves on dirt or the rush of blood in her head. Fear flooded her entire body, an unnatural terror that made her nearly sick. This wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right. This couldn’t be wronger. The sickening heat of the sun burned down on her sweating form as she thundered away. Away from that dreaded forest. Away from...it. Whatever it was. Her vision hadn’t been fast enough to pick up on anything physical. The second she had seen it, her body had locked, jaw tightening to nearly teeth shattering pressure. She couldn’t look away. The images of the coming flood burned into her head, seared into her skull. She couldn’t shake it. Her body acted before her mind did. It followed the age old instinct that had kept her species alive during harded days. Flipping on nearly a heel, the mare had sped out of there faster than ever before. The once simply ominous forest had suddenly turned into a source of pure horror. Unadulterated and uncontrollable. Whatever existed in there now wasn’t going to move, it had claimed it’s territory. There was something in it’s thousand eyed gaze, a gaze she felt more than saw. It wanted something from her. Them. It wanted them. It became clear. It simply wanted them. The dragons, their otherworldly visitors currently locked below her castle. The sixth sense that had first appeared the second she had laid eyes on them suddenly made sense. The shock was clear to those when she first made that decision. Twilight Sparkle, the princess of Friendship, had locked away two seemingly traumatized creatures under lock and key, constantly guarded. Nopony knew what to think of it. Even to herself, this strangely paranoid and cold behavior surprised her. Now it made sense. Something within her realized it from the moment that she saw them. The moment that she felt their energy. The spike of power that burst through their world on an otherwise normal night. Magical signatures rivaling that of Celestia at her strongest. Magically sensitive parts of her being had become alarmed. While she didn’t want to let go of her morals, her instincts split her down the middle. So she had locked them away, saying it was for their own safety. Saying that she would just let them heal. But now, it all made sense. The unimaginable horror of the thing that stalked the woods, was of their doing. It wanted them, it followed them after accidentally bringing them here. The flashes of nightmarish visions of catastrophe, weren’t a prophecy, they were a warning. The message was fairly clear. GIVE THEM TO ME Her fear clouded mind didn’t know what to do. Easy solution was to give it what it wanted. Then what, would it just leave? What more could be at stake if it got greedy and began demanding more? She would turn into it’s vessel. She would not threaten her world on the lives of two strangers she knew next to nothing about. It was their fault that her entire world had just been flipped. She still had time to reverse this chain before it broke through the very fabric of Equestria. A being of it’s power could not be left alone. Unnoticed by her, she had rocketed into Ponyville, heeding none of the surprised cries of it’s patrons. Nothing could get her attention at the current moment. Locked in a state of persistent thought, the mare threw herself into the air, propelled by the adrenaline shaking her to her very core. What could she do? This thing was more than she had ever encountered. It’s massively brief encounter had penetrated her to her very center, sending waves of uncertainty and fear to her surface. Rippling around her like a pool with a boulder dropped in the dead center of it, the mare barely kept it all together under the crushing weight of the detailed visions. Not her, not Celestia, not Discord. Not anyone. The coming flood couldn’t be stopped. A simple being like herself was unable to process such a threat. For what was she, an Alicorn? What was an Alicorn in the face of such a primordial entity. As the tension reached a breaking point, something happened. The tiara on her mane of frazzled hair suddenly began to glow dimly. Landing hard on the dirt path, opposite of where she had began her panicked sprint, she took off back down the trail without stopping. Within the confines of her head, the lavender mare began throwing around possible solutions frantically. Perhaps simply locking the entire Everfree under a barrier could stop it from exiting, or anyone from entering. Then again the amount of energy required for a long-term barrier of that size far exceed her own. The princesses wouldn’t be able to help, the drain would restrict their ability to govern Equestria. Then maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t exit the Everfree in the first place. Perhaps sight was it’s weakness? Yes! That might be it! If it’s strength was weakened by direct observation then all she would have to do it get the entirety of Ponyville to stare it down. But, what if it retained it’s mind numbing ability to incite fear. Twilight was about as mentally strong and magically resistant as they came in Ponyville; the others might break in the wake of such damage. Her mind was opening to dangerous possibilities, but she refused to endanger the lives of anyone in this town on a hunch. What else? She was momentarily broken from her trance as the looming figures of the front gate of her castle took up her vision. Absentmindedly, she threw the gates open with force, running through just as she blinked into the interior of her bedroom. Throwing the door latch on, she hastily got a few materials together. “Think, think, think.” She mumbled to herself, pacing the length of her room in long rapid lines. Her mind, still slightly hazy, wouldn’t focus. “Think!” She nearly screamed. The gems in her tiara glowed even brighter. Mind getting cleared, another idea came to. Perhaps, alerting her fellow princesses was a wise idea. Just make them aware of the danger this thing possessed, there wasn’t much she herself could do about it on her own. Then again, what could they really spare. This thing was unknown, only she had truly been affected by it’s mind altering powers. Unless Dash was likewise affected. Wait, Rainbow Dash… Her tiara flashed brightly, dimming once again. Taking a deep breath, the mare slowed her breathing. The element atop her mane helping to cool her down. She had completely forgotten to tell Dash what had happened. Then again she had screamed loud enough to be heard from cloudsdale. Her fear began to recede, the thought of her leaving her friend behind awakened something within her. The previous few days had started clouding her personality, altering her into a slightly different mare. Realizing this with discomfort, she sat in the center of her room, dropping all of her supplies in a neat pile next to her. Sighing as her rump hit the floor, the mare rubbed her forehead, just under her horn. Headaches were common signs of her being stressed. Letting out a shuddering breath, the lavender mare brought her hooves to her head. Adjusting the tiara and fixing her bangs, the Alicorn attempted to calm herself down. Knowing just how badly her panic attacks can get, the mare slowed herself down. “Don’t get over your head Twilight.” She whispered to herself. “Keep it together and think.” Closing her eyes, the stressed mare cleared her mind, letting thoughts of equations and problems cross her mind. Finding her happy place as some would say. Thinking clearly was going to be critical here. The issue of what she had seen was still very much on her mind. She needed to be all together if she was going to figure this out. What was the first step? Probably make sure Dash got out alright. It’s likely that she hadn’t even encountered what Twilight had to begin with, being nowhere near the Alicorn at that time. Though if she had been high enough, perhaps she may have spotted what had been in there. Then again maybe it was for the best if she hadn’t. As Twilight had only the briefest opportunity to gaze into it, it had nearly broken her mind. A less guarded mind such as Rainbow’s might have been unable to handle what she had seen. The images were still flashing in the back of her vision everytime she closed her eyes. This must have been what Spyro and Cynder had seen. From her conversation with Cynder she had sensed a very potent barrier around her thoughts. It wasn’t that Twilight had tried to intrude, but upon analyzing the dragoness, she had glimpsed past the signature into further depths without meaning to do so. If that thing had been able to affect Spyro, whose power levels in terms of magical potency were on another level above Cynder’s, then Cynder must have a rather powerful mental block. Such a block was more than likely the only reason she hadn’t completely broken upon their seemingly prolonged exposure to that monster. Unlike her companion, who had really lost his mind for a bit. She wasn’t sure if the damage would be lasting when he awoke. More than likely not, but he’d probably be very dazed. Raising a hoof, lost in thought, Twilight stroked her chin as she delved further into her analysis. She couldn’t risk anyone seeing that thing and going crazy, the chaos would be immense if they found this out the wrong way. Twilight knew this town well, they would freak out and run like a startled animal if push came to shove. So then, how to solve the problem? That was the dilemma. Racking her brain for an answer, she thought back to how it shrunk into the shadows at the sight of her. Maybe, just maybe, it’s weakness lied hidden within it’s strength. Vision wounded it, while also dealing even more damage back at it’s viewer. This however came back to the previous concern from earlier, even when she was nearly over the deep end. She couldn’t risk the wellbeing of innocent ponies, not on a hunch, even if it meant potentially putting this thing away. There would have to be another solution. The elements came to mind. The one true plan B that always seemed to work. If anything, the bearers themselves, including herself, were more qualified to handle this danger. They were the most fearless, magically gifted, and otherwise reality defying ponies in the town, possible in all of Equestria. Okay, so there’s that. Gather the elements, maybe get through that and then discuss the problem. Her thoughts echoed back to Dash. Faust, she really hoped she had gotten out of there. Almost on Que, a slam from downstairs, followed by a shout, broke her from her troubling thoughts. Sighing, absolutely relieved, Twilight stood up. Walking slowly to the door, she flipped the latch up, just in time so it seemed. A cyan pegasus rammed into the room, a disheveled mess. She looked like hell, a combination of anger and worry expressed across her face. Breathing heavily, the mare marched over to Twilight, grabbing her around the neck. “Don’t you ever do that again!” She shouted into Twilight’s face, looking like she was as close to a breakdown as Twilight had been earlier. “You scared the horse apples out of me Twi! I thought something had happened to you!” She trailed off, turning away, breathing heavily. Twilight instantly felt remorseful. Here was her friend, loyalty ever shining through. She had been terrified, in a panic when she heard Twilight scream and had been unable to find her. She opened her mouth to apologize, but no sound followed. Instead, she trotted over to the chromatic pegasus, who was doing her best to vent her anger and worry on anything other than it’s target. Pulling Dash closer, she wrapped the pegasus in a firm hug. Dash froze, momentarily caught off guard by the hug, but returned it a moment later. Breathing into the Alicorn’s neck, she sighed heavily. “You scared me real bad Twi, what the hell happened back there?” The pegasus broke the hug stepping back and looked Twilight in the eyes intently, red irises shining. Twilight didn’t immediately respond, instead she dropped her gaze and took a step forward. “Did...did you see it?” She whispered, almost afraid of talking about that thing out loud. Dash looked confused. “Did I see...what Twilight?” The pegasus looked rather befuddled, staring at the Alicorn with a mixed expression of curiosity and concern. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Though she wasn’t sure if she was very happy that she had no confirmation that what she saw was even real. “There was something in those woods.” She replied guiltily, a bit remorseful that she had hoped that her friend had been through the same mental meat grinder she had. “What do you mean something?” The pegasus gestured forward with a hoof. “Like a manticore or something?” When Twilight didn’t respond, the rainbow maned mare snickered behind a hoof. “Wow Twilight, didn’t think you would be afraid of seeing a manticore, not like we haven't fought those before.” Twilight felt a sudden heat flood her cheeks. The fears was back again, and the mocking tone the pegasus possessed did little to appease them. She stamped a hoof into the floor. Hard. “It wasn’t a manticore!” She shouted, sudden apprehension in her tone. She pulled back, looking around, scared of what she couldn’t see. “It was unnatural. I didn’t get a very good look at it, but it’s bad news! Very bad news!” The pegasus was once again visibly concerned. “Well...what was it then?” “I don’t know, this didn’t feel like anything we’ve ever faced before.” She was shaking once again, though she tried to control it, she felt a sudden weakness in her being like never before. “I’m worried we may be in over our heads.” “Twilight what could it possibly be?” Rainbow tried to reason with the distraught mare. “Sure the Everfree has got some bad mojo around it, but what could be so bad that we can’t handle it?” “You didn’t see what I saw!” Twilight shrieked. Rainbow visibly startled, jumping back a foot at the sudden shout. The Alicorn capped her anger. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the mare put a hoof to her chest, moving it out as she exhaled. “Look-” She continued, eyes opening and voice low. “I’m not gonna jump to any conclusions, but we need to take a good look at this and decide what it is and if it is a job for the Elements.” “I still don’t know about all this Twi.” The mare was visibly skeptical. Twilight sighed, feeling rather drained by all the action and emotion of the day. This was far from punctual, and she hated it. “Just trust me on this Dash.” Rainbow still looked skeptical. “Please.” She pleaded with the other mare. The pegasus stared at her hard, looking directly into her eyes. A few tense moments passed. Blinking and turning away, the pegasus sighed. Shaking her head, she flashed the Alicorn a light smile. “Alright Twi, I trust you.” she nodded once, sitting down heavily. Twilight followed suit. “Then what’s the plan?” Twilight pondered for a moment, deciding what would be the best way to go about this. Dash was the fastest, so she should probably be the one to round up the rest of the girls. Whatever this was that they were dealing with, they had to overcome it together. “You go gather the rest of the girls, and bring them here. I’m gonna start trying to figure out where we go from here. I’m not resting until I know this town and everypony in it is secure.” She thrust her head forward, a thin smile on her muzzle. Dash nodded her head, snapping into guards-mare mode for a moment. Standing up, she snapped a salute. “I won’t let you down Twi.” With a flick of her mane, the mare trotted out quickly. As the pegasus left, Twilight got back to her hooves, casting her gaze around the room. Quickly gathering her wayward supplies from off the floor, the mare plodded over to her study. Setting the equipment down, she closed the blind in the external room. Gathering a few pencils, pens, and parchment, the mare charted down everything she thought would be necessary on another roll of parchment. Going over plans in her head, Twilight felt more at peace than she had all week. Despite the danger, she knew she could work through it. On one hoof, it was another problem to solve, another threat to log and make sure couldn’t return later. The challenge of it all was getting her a bit more hyped than she thought she probably should be. On the other hoof, it was a very, very problematic equation. One that would starin all of her resources and willpower. She knew this was no joke. Most threats up until this point she had been able to get a read on. Whether they wanted power, money, or ponies, they always had something to exploit. But this, this was pure evil. It didn't care. It just wanted to cause the death and destruction of everything it encountered. It may not have known it, but when it had imparted it’s cataclysmic waring deep into her brain, it also broadcasted it’s intentions. Twilight was smart, she knew she could find a way to exploit this. Know your enemy, know yourself, and victory is assured. She smirked, confidence suddenly entering her. This thing wanted to break her. She would not let it. She would show it the error of it’s ways and have it running. Ponyville was an unbreakable fortress at this point, she wasn’t terribly concerned now that her mind wasn’t being torn to shreds by irrational, unnatural fear. Despite knowing all of this, there was still one Wildcard unaccounted for. Cynder. The dragoness knew more than she had let on. Twilight saw the other female differently than most might. She was scared, just as scared as Twilight was. Cynder would be an absolute asset to this, and maybe she could get the cold dragoness to warm up, to feel some compassion. The pony’s viewpoint on Cynder might have been narrow, but she was determined. Unaware of just how big of an explosion this match would cause. Setting down the materials at her study, Twilight went over her notes on the interaction with Cynder and the diagnosis of their wounds. Cynder was more than well enough to walk around, her companion on the other hoof was a mystery. The alicorn was unsure when he would be moving around. She hadn’t been able to glean much about the purple dragon so she really didn’t find she had much to work with. Grimacing a little, she thought it through. The dragoness needed to cooperate as she was pretty much the only one besides herself that had anything to be said on the thing in the woods. Realizing it would need a name, Twilight thought for a second before scribbling down on her notes “Soothsayer” Finding the name to be strangely fitting, she circled it once and underlined it. Returning her attention to the matter at hoof, she pondered whether or not she should visit the dragoness once more. The evident unease she had at being locked down there was evident. “No point in keeping her down there anymore, maybe I can get her to warm up.” She set her tools down, proceeding to the exit of her study. Calling out loudly to her guards, she exited her room. Yelling down the stairs, one of her royal guards came up to her and bowed. “Yes your highness?” He questioned, head still bowed submissively. Twilight gazed down at him, violet eyes piercing. “Alert the Major to have his team bring Cynder, the black dragoness in the dungeon to me. Oh, and the purple one if he’s awake and able. Tell the Major it’s urgent!” She flung her hoof outwards a few times. He nodded silently, and rose. Trotting away at a brisk pace, Twilight smiled to herself. Things may be looking up from here. * Underground, in a cold, damp cell, an onyx colored figure sat. Cynder was once again sat with nothing to do, nothing to eat, and nothing to drink. The toll was starting to get a little more pronounced as the hours had passed. It seemed almost as if they had forgotten about her. The guards that had previously been around her door last night had vanished. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but when she did she wasn’t very relieved. Even if they were an ever present annoyance last night, they weren't the main problem at the moment. The light streaming around the tunnel still kept her hopelessly confined within the thick metal bars and walls of this damned cell. The lack of guards would’ve been phenomenal if it wasn’t what she presumed to be sometime in the afternoon. She hadn’t been awake very long so she wasn't all that sure. With nothing to do, the dragoness just pressed her back to a wall and let her mind wander. Once they were out of this place, she wasn’t very sure of what to do. Spyro was in virtually no condition to fly, let alone walk. Unless they had been steadily medicating him when she wasn’t around there was no telling how long it would take. Even if they had a healthy stock of red gems it wasn’t likely it would’ve made the most enormous difference. Spirit gem treatments were fantastic at healing wounds moderate to minor in nature. A bad scrape, a sprained wing, even some forms of fractures could be healed by their mystical energy. But a large mount of wide, deep gashes? And whatever the hell happened to his hind legs must be rather terrible. The gems would dull the pain and stem the bleeding, but they wouldn’t do all that much about closing off the entirety of the wounded areas. He hadn’t been drained and wounded to this magnitude before. The male hadn't even so much as twitched when she held him the night previous. She wasn’t sure how long it would take him to heal. She felt the nerves start to come back, breaking her concentration. What if they never did? What was to stop those ponies from just killing them both. Maybe they did know what she was, maybe they had just been feigning ignorance. It wouldn’t surprise her, she was sure it was possible. Perhaps it was just their way of making the revenge all the more sweet. Keep her alive, in constant pain, and then when she was finally broken, end her. The idea made her scales itch. She wasn’t prepared to die, she had come to realize in the past few weeks of her life. After all the pain and suffering, there had been times when she had considered throwing herself from the highest tower in Warfang and simply not opening her wings. The thought had hit home before. There were times when she had nearly done it, feeling so numb to everything that she was sure she wouldn’t even blink. Many of those times her sense had come back in time. This usually ended with her wrapped in Spyro’s wings and arms sobbing uncontrollably for the next hour or two. Never would she tell him what she had nearly done, Cynder knew she could never do that to him. Every time the thought of being so close to death had terrified her. Life was often a mixed bag. Sometimes it looked like all it wanted was for her to suffer, and other times it was so sweet she wasn’t sure if she was even alive. Such happiness for a tortured soul such as hers was unthinkable. It all came back to survival, all back to that urge that had emerged the second her species had come to exist. The will to live. She wasn’t sure if she would ever know true peace, but she had often thought about what all the pain meant. In the end, she had come to realize that you must know true suffering to know true peace. Maybe she just had to keep searching. Philosophy often crossed her mind like this. Ideas and the like creating images in her head that she strove to be. Strove to achieve in a way as to prove all those who simply saw her as a monster wrong. Maybe she would eventually become wise like the oldest of her race, maybe she ascend in her own way to peace. Maybe. Then again, maybe all it would amount to was this. Being trapped in a tunnel, ancestors knows how deep beneath the Earth, contemplating her life as the very end of it strode ever near. For all she knew they were coming right now. Edging closer and closer to her cell ready to execute her on the spot. They treated her like an animal, they probably expected her to die like one too. Twilight was probably the one to order it. She had seemed so sincere their first meeting. The dragoness hardly found it shocking that she had played the part so shockingly well. They probably did this to any that they deemed to be undeserving of life. Maybe they just hated dragons, they wouldn't have been the first and they sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. She don’t know how long she sat like that, emerald eyes glazed over, only blinking every so often. The cold chill of the floor and walls began to permeate through her scales bringing shivers to her form. Her joints locked, lack of use making them feel rather aged. Only when this discomfort became rather obnoxious did she move. Bones crackling, she got back to paws, stretching quietly. The otherwise quiet chamber was reawakened by the sound of her tapping her claws against the bars, the metal faintly clanging every time her hard ivory claws dug against the metal. Walking by the bars, she held a paw aloft, letting the tips drag across the metal as she paced. She paced the edge of the chamber, body sore due to a lack of movement. She had never so dearly missed her outside freedom. What she wouldn’t give to feel the heat of the sun, the fresh smell of the outside air carried along with the winds. It seemed forever since she had seen the sun, something about time down here seemed to stretch. The hunger pains made it moreso, the trembling in her belly causing an ever present ache. Dragons had been known to go without food for long periods of time, but her immense elemental capacity caused the passive drain to wear her stomach thin much faster. If only instead of having those guards the night before, in had walked a chicken. Thinking about it made her mouth water. But instead, she had been given rocks. Drained spirit gems, blue ones to add insult to injury. She felt the frustration swell within her. The smug look that she had received when they had seen her refuse to touch the damn things made her furious. She would’ve burned a hole through the floor just to…. Wait. Burned. Acid burns. When it hit her she wanted to claw her eyes out, cheer in joy, and weep at the same time. This entire time she could’ve used her poison. High concentrations of the substance were an extremely potent acid. The bars! How on earth had she let that slip her mind? Turning fast, the dragoness moved up to the bars, body trembling with newfound excitement. She felt the heat swell within her chest. Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the burning, sweltering acidic sensation resonating within her core. It swirled and spurred along with her willing, spreading from her core to the middle of her throat. There it sat and broiled, spinning rapidly. The chemical burns hurt like hell fire, but she knew they would heal quickly. As the sensation intensified, glands in her throat opened, fluttering for a second. Just as the burning became too much did she release it. Opening her jaws wide, the dragoness felt it before she saw it. The highly concentrated acid sprayed from her throat, impacting the metal with a dull hissing. Turning her head, she sprayed the burn in a circle around the bars. The toll it took was immediate. Of all her control over elements, spraying this toxic liquid was the hardest to control. As the circle completed, she cut off the flow of energy, closing the glands in her throat. Taking a long breath, she worked her jaw, the sore feeling remaining even after the conduit had been shut. The green liquid hissed as it burned on the metal structure. Dripping down the bars, Cynder reached forward, catching a drop of the chemical. Staring at it as it sat harmless on her scales, the dragoness rubbed it in and returned her attention to her work. It took a little bit, but eventually the bars began to give way, growing weaker with each passing second. After about a minute, the bars were completely burned through. As the hissing sound was brought to a close, the hollowed out circle fell through the bars, a loud bang following as the pipes of metal collided with the ground. Smirking excitedly at her handiwork, the dragoness wiggled through the hole in the bars, wincing as her scales caught on the sharp edges of the bars. Paying no mind, the dragoness, stepped through the doorway, peering down both sides of the hall. Nobody in sight, perfect. She looked to her right, watching the bend of the hall intently. “I’m coming Spyro, we’re getting out of this place.” She whispered to herself determinedly. The freedom felt so sweet. Oh how she wanted to fly, to feel the pull of the wind along her wings and body. But, that would have to wait, she had more pressing matters to attend to. Finally seeing the hallway while lit for the first time. It was painted the same painfully bright white as her cell was. She groaned. White walls, white floors, white guards. What was these ponies obsession with white? As she was about to proceed down the hall, something caught her attention. The sound of multiple heavy clops of hooves. They were coming downwards from the muffled sound of it. She hadn’t seen a door when she had been in here the night previous, so where the hell would they appear. Looking behind her, she realized attempting to pretend like she hadn’t escaped was impossible. They would only have to see it out of the corner of their eyes to realize something was wrong. She heard them hit the ground and begin to come closer. She sighed. Well looks like she would have to either fight or give up and let them take her to a new cell. Perhaps she should just give in, maybe it was best to just not harm them and hope for a way ou- “Split up. You four take care of the purple one, the black one is ours.” Her eye twitched. The floor broke slightly as her claws clenched deep within the stone. Her fangs grit tightly within her jaws, nearly breaking. Eyes narrowing, her heart began to race. She had been right. They were going to kill them. The sounds of them stampeding down the hall became more and more pronounced. She felt hot rage flood her veins. Was her past still following her, would she always be prey to those who wished for her demise. Worse yet, they would kill Spyro, the savior of the realms, just to get to her. Why? Why would it never end? Was she doomed to repeat this cycle for the rest of her life. Why wouldn’t they just leave her alone. All she had ever wanted was to redeem herself. Was truly the only way in death? How dare they. How dare they. Rounding the corner up ahead, not even 15 feet, they came. They stopped the second they saw her, body halfway to them, emerald eyes glaring murderously at them. They were different than the others. Their armor sleeker, their weapons more defined, their determination more noticeable. They had an air of arrogance about them. Time to shake it. “Halt!” The lead one shouted, taking several steps forward, the three behind him following the same lead. His horn lit, along with the others, held long spears, decorated by ribbons of purple and gold, iridescent metal making the tip of the weapons glow. The threat was clear, they planned to draw first blood. As they approached, Cynder’s eyes never left his. Ice met fire. "Let's come quietly, shall we." He whispered to her, a confident smirk on his muzzle. Her eyes narrowed, watching him with extreme paranoia and suspicion. Within 6 feet, they stopped. The standoff grew dead silent. Her heart was pounding in her ears, this close she examined them in more detail. All of them had horns, glowing brightly as they pointed their spears directly at her. She didn’t move a muscle, claws still embedded deep within the floor. For a moment no sound was heard. Then the lead shouted. “Regroup!” He yelled down the hall, the sound echoed a few times, then behind her, she heard the distinctive sound of hooves beating into the ground at rapid pace. Their eyes stayed connected, Emeralds meeting Sapphire’s. While Cynder remained expressionless, he began to smirk smugly. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of making a single face back. Within her own head, she was formulating how she was going to handle this. The chain had been severed, now she had to keep the whole damn wall from tumbling down on top of her. Turning her head when the hoof beats reached the bend behind her, she found herself staring into the second group. Her breath hitched. They had the same advanced equipment that the first group owned. She stalked the spot, circling eyeing her opponents. Aside from their still smirking leader, the others kept a face that told of grim awareness. The situation was like holding a match over a pot of gunpowder. Returning her eyes to the glowing Sapphires, she finally made a sound. Snarling, the dragoness spit at his hooves. His smirk dropped as he looked down. He stared for a moment, before his own expression turned into an angry frown. For a moment nothing happened. Her body tensed, sensing the incoming break. Ripping her claws free, she stood inside the circle that her claws had scraped into the hard stone floor. Cynder crouched low, her tail rattling against the ground dangerously, while her claws tapped nervously against the ground. The guards eyed each other nervously as the predator stalked, while their leader never strayed from her. Then the penny dropped. “Get her.” Everything happened at once. The guards charged as a unit, making a beeline for the dragoness. She reacted first. Whipping herself around, Cynder opened her jaws, a horrific screech thundered from her lungs, accompanied by a blast of red energy. The approaching guards to her rear were hit full force. Suddenly stopping as if they were paralyzed, they fell to the ground, bodies locked up, expressions terrified as the they fought with unseen demons. Snarling savagely, the dragoness whipped around, parrying the incoming spear with her tail blade. The sound of colliding metal filled the air. She juked back out of the blued eyed Major’s range, crouching down once again. He narrowed his eyes, letting out a war cry as he charged her much quicker than she would have expected. Not breaking focus, the dragoness rolled out of the way, tripping him with her tail blade. His head roughly collided with the stone. Dazed, he reached for his spear when he suddenly felt a large pressure on his back. The dragoness jumped on top of him, her toned, larger form struggling to hold down the equine. Despite being a head taller than him and a full foot and a half longer, the pony had some serious strength behind him. Undeterred, the dragoness snarled, pressing down hard on the back of his neck, pressing his teeth shut inside his mouth as she pressed him against the floor. He thrashed about struggling to get her off. His guards rushed forward trying to help him. Seeing the incoming threat, Cynder snapped her neck around, sucking in a deep breath. With a sharp roar, a sonic blast of air impacted them hard, throwing the three of them back several feet, their weapons and armor clanging against the floor loudly. They struggled to get up, but were momentarily too dazed to do so. Cynder turned her attention back to the struggling pony writhing beneath her. She dug her hind legs into him, claws ripping through fur and flesh. He groaned, forcing everything into moving his body, but the pressure did not let up. His spear was still laying a ways away. Spotting it, he continued to struggle as his horn weakly lit up. The dragoness began to grow aggravated with his struggling, and seeing him grip his fallen weapon in that wretched telekinesis set her off. With a growl, she balled up her other paw, slamming it into the base of his horn with the hard bony wrist. The impact was devastating. Magic being pumped into the conduit was suddenly thrown haywire as the heavy blow shattered the top half of the bony extension. With leaks suddenly permeating the surface, the magic dispelled itself rather violently. The entire horn weakly exploded, sending cracks along the entire surface. He screamed as much as he could with his mouth still closed. A moment later, he seemed to go limp, breath heaving. Grimacing, Cynder stepped off of him, watching as blood leaked from the destroyed appendage. She momentarily felt remorseful, but that quickly left her as the anger returned. They wanted to kill her, they brought this on. The three she had knocked back were getting to their feet, looking horrified as they saw what the black dragoness had done. Their fearless leader lay limp, his back torn to shreds and his horn cracked and bleeding. Righteous indignation flooded them and they charged. At the same time, the four she had previously paralyzed with fear, were returning to their hooves, looking just as angry. Though, with more restraint, they began to form a semicircle around the enraged dragoness. As the battle shifted and she found herself surrounded by spears and angry owners, she felt her blood-lust break free. Her survival instincts crawled to the surface. Her rage forced a haze over her entire vision. Refusing to give in she snarled thunderously, standing on her hind legs. “You can't kill me!” She roared defiantly, slitted eyes narrowed sharply. Slamming her paws back into the ground, the enraged Cynder swung her body around, her wickedly sharp tail blade slicing two of the ponies closest to her viciously. They yelped and jumped back, the rest narrowly avoiding being cut to ribbons by the fury. As the spin leveled out, she threw herself at the closest guard, throwing him to the ground. Growling, she raked her claws across the dazed pony’s throat, tearing three bloody gashes in the sensitive flesh. Momentarily being splashed with red, she rolled off of him instantly, getting back into a defensive crouch posture. The ponies seemed momentarily caught off guard by the viscous attack, but they didn’t have time to waste. Another guard was soon taken to the ground. Instead of having his throat slashed, Cynder rolled back to her feet, jamming the long blade on the end of her tail deep into his chest. The pony gasped, hacking up a spray of blood as his heart was ripped open. The remaining guards charged her this time, forcing her to dodge and play defense. Empowered by the thirst to avenge their fallen comrade, the ponies played more aggressively, forcing her to parry and dodge multiple attacks quickly. Unfortunately for them, the elite guard was unable to break her defense and their stamina began to wane as she moved around like lightning, deflecting strikes. Every so often while back-stepping she was given an opportunity, each time landing a hard balled wrist punch to the side of a guard right below the armor. Catching a momentary break in the assault as one guard wheezed from a sudden and brutal punch to the throat, Cynder deflected a tiredly thrust spear with her tail, curling the long appendage around the legs of one pony, she pulled hard. Lunging over the body as it tumbled, Cynder lashed his throat open with her tail, staining the blade crimson, before grabbing the back of the injured pony's wheezing form and delivering the same strike that put their commander down, his horn cracking in the same manner. Four down, three to go. Wincing as the tumble aggravated her sensitive wings, the dragoness righted herself as the remaining three guards grouped together tightly, fear becoming evident on their faces. Cynder felt some of her battle rage peter out, leaving her slightly remorseful for the savage fighting. This remorse once again retreated as the three moved on her, converging as one. She was forced to reel around the blows of two, but took a sharp poke to the side. The blow coursed through her tender side like fire. Screaming in pain, Cynder jerked forward, twisted herself sideways through the air, and jammed the blade of her tail into the side of the equine’s head. He gave a wet gurgle before falling to the ground, dead. Wasting no time, she juked around the blow of one spear, taking the flat blade against her ribs once more. Grabbing the spear in one paw while she grit her fangs hard, she broke the spear in half, flinging the metal down the bloodied hall. Lunging forward, into the face of the surprised guard, she latched her teeth around his throat, razor sharp fangs cutting through his thin flesh and fur. He gasped and screamed, blood filling her mouth instantly. Thrashing about as her pressure increased, he cried for help, tears brimming in his eyes as they watered in pain and fear. His partner attempted to remove the dragoness from him, but she flashed him a dangerous look, her jade eyes briefly turning blood red. He found himself rooted to the spot, paralyzed. Ripping her head downwards and to the side, the poor equine’s neck broke instantly, the crack filling the air. Breathing heavily, sharp teeth blood stained, the dragoness released the dead pony’s neck. The lone survivor broke from his trance, fear being replaced by despair. “You monstrous bitch!” He screamed and rushed her. She easily sidestepped the reckless charge, stabbing her tail blade into a foreleg. He yelped in pain, falling forward on his belly. Snarling in defiance, Cynder jumped on his back, pinning the defenseless pony to the floor. He cried out as the dragoness’s claws pierced his flesh. “You think you know pain!?” She snarled in his ear. “I’m gonna have you screaming for mercy when I’m done with you!” She pulled a hind leg up forward along his back, pressing her claws into his spine. She released one of his hooves as he began to shout in pain, wrapping her claws around his neck, pushing her talons deep. Choking on his blood as it flooded his ruined esophagus, the pony thrashed. Not one to be overly sadistic, she crushed his throat easily and broke his spine with her hind claws. Ripping her talons from his ruined body with a wet crunch, Cynder wrapped her talons tightly around his head and gave it a brutal twist. The screams and grunts stopped suddenly, and the only sound that could be heard down the hauntingly quiet hallway was heavy breathing. The haze began to clear from her vision as Cynder got off the corpse, standing among the hall full of them. Breathing unevenly, she gagged at the taste of putrid blood in her mouth and stuck to her teeth. Avoiding the dead bodies, the dragoness, she herself splattered with red in places, parts of her normally black and magenta body colored deeply by the ichor, shakily stepped down the hall. The fight itself wasn’t too fatiguing, but the savagery with which she had attacked slightly appalled her. Coughing a bit, the dragoness proceed down the hall, a steady drip of blood falling from her jaws and sliding off her claws. “I’m getting us out of here Spyro, I won’t let them take us.” > ...And our Hearts Have Been Shattered.... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Drip… Drip… Drip… The sound echoed dryly down the tunnel, bouncing off the walls. Heavy breathing mixed with the odd echo, giving a haunting note down the brightly lit tunnel. Tapping of claws followed the noise, slowly and unsteadily moving down the long tunnel. Concrete slowly scraped along the underside of the dragoness's claws, mixing with the constant droning sound of her tail spade carving it’s way through the floor. Cynder grit her fangs as she hobbled. The aftereffects of the rough fighting was settling in. Her adrenaline fueled body had been pushed beyond what she could properly put out in this state. Heaving a breath, she shook a paw roughly, dispelling the growing numbness in her limbs. The rough grinding her muscles had taken ached and slowed her down painfully. While not fully aware of it yet, but the dragoness had been leaning roughly against the stone wall the entire way down the expansive corridor. The weakness settling in her bones and expended muscles was an absolutely stinging burn that refused to leave. She hadn’t felt this drained in a long time. The weakness felt rather unnatural in fact. Such a fight wouldn’t normally leave her in such a state. It seemed that the monster from the forest left more that just bloody wounds. For once, she wasn’t sure if she had truly gotten very lucky in a fight. While most fights were rather harrowing, she realized with a pang of fear that the state of her body may have just flat out given up in the middle of the fight had it dragged on any longer. The drain on her stamina had felt rather miniscule in the moment, but as the battle rage lifted from her body she was left with a feeling of hollowness she hadn’t felt since the battle with Malefor. Breathing deeply, the dragoness halted her advance for a moment, leaning even heavier into the rough concrete wall. Her scales scraped painfully against it, but at the moment it was little more than another thorn in the side. Gasping faintly, she raised a paw unsteadily against her flank. Swallowing hard, she suppressed a shudder as she felt her ribs poking through her scales. Something was very wrong. This wasn’t something that would happen from a day without food. Her body wasn’t working right, it was almost rejecting what ever rest was being given to it. Closing her eyes, Cynder pushed herself off the wall, grasping at nothing as the dragoness's unaided approach sent her nearly reeling to the floor. She spent a moment just waiting there, making sure to force herself to balance out. Calling upon what little wind remained in the deep tunnel, the dragoness forced it to comply with her, rushing against her sides and acting as a temporary armrest. Easing herself into motion, the black dragoness staggered herself down the hall slowly. Spitting on the floor, she wiped the putrid stench of pony blood from her tounge best she could with a small cough of poison. It burned, but the taste of their blood was washed away and replaced by the slightly less nauseating stench of chemicals. Coughing against the back of a paw, she forced one paw in front of the other. Cynder ground her claws into the tiny cracks in the stone, getting a decent grip with every step that helped ease her down the corridor. The constant dripping of blood from her claws was slowly but surely grinding on her nerves, but she tried her best to block it out. Soon enough the bend from the end of the hall came into reach. Stringing herself loosely around it’s sides, the ebony scaled dragoness pressed her body up against the wall grimacing as it bit into her side rather roughly. Gasping in pain, she pushed one paw against the stone and threw herself off, steadying herself against the small wind stream she was able to keep from crashing to the floor. Her emerald eyes glinted slightly for a moment. An idea had struck her. Stretching herself as best she could, the dragoness pushed the stream hard down the corridor. Whistling faintly in the confined space, the narrow stream blew against the lit torches illuminating the rest of the next hall. The flames licked at the harsh wind, before dying down, leaving nothing but small embers in their wake. Darkness flooded the chamber. Smiling to herself at her own genius, the black female closed her eyes and sat for a moment. Feeling her way through the shadows, she dragged as much of the pure dark as she could into her own form, concentrating them on her bloodsoaked paws. The strain was immediate, but she didn’t have to keep it up for long. Ending the channeling before it completely drained the rest of her limited energy, Cynder got to her feet, her paws encased in shadows. The rest of her form was left the same, but one wouldn’t really be able to tell anyway. Shaking the shadow cloaked paws lightly, Cynder stepped forward. For a moment nothing happened, but a second later, movement suddenly began to get much easier. Her paws seemed to slide as if she was ice. It felt like the floor had suddenly become rather slick, however she felt the fear of falling diminish. The darkness latched around her claws could just as easily grind themselves into the stone. Latching herself to the floor wouldn’t feel very good, but she hoped she wouldn’t have to. Swiftly, she slid down the dark tunnel. The ever present energy strain associated with walking was gone, replaced by a feeling of relaxation beginning to course through her entire form. This was where she was best. Cloaked in shadows and alone, nothing could hope to match her. Grinning, her teeth almost invisible as they were painted a dark, muted red instead of their normal pearly white, she moved herself down the hall with ease. Sliding one paw in front of the other, she sent the warping cloak of darkness further out in front of her. For a normal being, this shroud of darkness would feel frightening, almost demonic, but nothing would ever feel more homely to the dragoness. The next bend came quickly, the light from that side creeping around the corner, encroaching on her like a snake coiled to strike. Sighing, Cynder dispelled the shadows from her claws and once again felt the rough purchase of the stone greet her. The light flashed against her scales, the faded, dirty skin absorbing most of the warm orange light without so much as a twinkle. Grunting from the renewed strain of being out of darkness, she saw her target. Spyro’s cell was just a few yards away. Their salvation was getting closer and closer. She knew they still need to find a way out, but they could work that out together. A grim frown formed on her muzzle “Implying he can even walk.” The thought didn’t strike her suddenly. Knowing they were in hot water wasn’t a hard conclusion to reach. Walking the rest of the way quickly saw something that made her breathe a sigh of relief. The cage door had been opened. She presumed that the guards she had just disposed of were ready to haul off the purple dragon when they had heard the commotion further down the hall. She thanked the ancestors for the lucky break. Knowing that she had forgotten to search the corpses for a key, and realizing that she doubted she had the strength to get back and forth. Thankfully it didn’t seem as though the worst was going to happen. Acid was difficult to control even when at full strength, she didn’t dare attempt to bring it out when she was this winded; best to not burn a hole through her throat and stomach and bleed to death. That was a rather wretched thought. It seemed for once fate was on her side. Skidding unsteadily to a stop, she faced into the purple dragon’s lit cell. As expected he was completely out, sides rising steadily as he breathed. Sighing, the black dragoness let some of the stress leave her body at the sight of her partner, unconscious, but looking much better than he had the previous night. Padding quietly into his cell, she rested by his side, gazing longingly at his closed violet eyelids. She placed a paw against his bandaged side, her paw stroking along his side soothingly. He twitched in his sleep, a faint smile appearing on his muzzle at the contact. Gazing lovingly down at his still form, Cynder was immensely grateful to see him again. Bringing her paw up to his neck, she rested it there. Leaning down, the black dragoness nuzzled his cheek, tears forming in the pit of her eye. Clenching them hard, she pulled back and shook her head slightly to herself. Now was not the time for weakness, she was still the one responsible for his well being. Knowing just how hard it was going to be to escape, the weariness came back full force. Clutching at her chest weakly, Cynder tried to even her breathing, unaware that she was pressing down on her purple partner. The onyx dragoness absentmindedly fidgeted with the choker around her neck, sorting through her thoughts, even as their time ran thin. Deciding on just worrying about getting her companion moving, the dragoness pushed all other thoughts to the side, knowing just how limited her thinking time was going to be. Even if the top layers of this castle hadn’t heard the screams and shrieking, the mere absence of the guard regiment was going to be noticed eventually. Turning her glistening emerald irises back at the downed purple dragon, it seemed her unconscious stroking of his neck and face hadn’t alerted him yet, his eyes still closed and breathing even. Thankfully it looked as though his breathing had evened out and wasn’t nearly as forced. Well, it was time to see just how well he really was. Leaning down once again, the black dragoness pressed her muzzle insistently, but gently against his neck. “Spyro? Spyro, can you hear me?” He didn’t respond, eyes shut tightly. Pressing a little more pressure against him, she rocked his side gently with a paw, shaking him a bit more roughly than she meant to. "Come on, please work with me here." The dragoness whispered in building panic, heart thudding violently in her chest. "Spyro! Wake! up!" Despair creeped into the dragoness's voice. He still did not stir. Cynder's heart hitched violently, a horrible feeling rising in her gut. “Spy! Please, wake up!” A note of desperation began to creep into her hushed voice, a growing tightness in her chest making it harder to breathe. After a few more slightly panicked pushes and exclamation, did the purple dragon move. His fore arms twitched and he snorted lowly. His mouth opened and a weak groan escaped him. Eyes widening and the fear slightly elevated, she pressed her snout tightly into the crook of his neck, wings limp against her side. She mumbled against his cool scales, whispering to him as he stirred. A few moments later his wings fluttered ever so slightly. A low thud echoed around the chamber as the dragon’s tail thumped against the ground, unable to keep itself up. Cynder dared not breathe. Bringing a paw up to his head, she stroked his sensitive facial scales. He reacted reflexively against the itching sensation, his own paw reaching up limply to grasp at the unwanted sensation. She grabbed his paw in her own, wrapping her talons around it softly. He snorted at the contact, and finally his eyes fluttered open. Blinking sleepily, unfocused violet met wet emeralds. Drunkenly, his gaze floated around, appearing to be dilating and rapidly contracting at random. Her chest still felt rather constricted, and she watched concerned as his concussed gaze flew right by her own teary eyes. Whimpering, the dragoness pushed lightly against his cheek, directing his eyes towards her own. When they met and hovered for a moment, the purple irises seemed to gather some thought. Jerking in her grip slightly, Spyro moaned weakly, shifting his body. A pained hack broke free of his chest and a rasping noise came from deep within his throat. Despite the horrible condition his body was in, his eyes became marginally more cleared. The weariness and faded violet in them made it shockingly clear just of weakened his body was. He gasped quietly, his eyes lighting up when he saw her leaning over him. The excitement bubbled to the surface in her as well and she let a teary eyed smile grace her muzzle. Softly stroking his cheek, the dragoness wrapped a paw around the back of his head and gently pulled him forward. She pressed her lips against his own in a soft, passionate kiss. Letting out all the pent up stress and fear, the dragoness felt tears leak from her eyes as she cried silently. Trembling the dragoness wrapped his shivering form in her wings and pulled him closer, shielding him from the biting cold of the cell. His lips trembled against hers and she felt a similar wetness run over her paws. Closing her eyes, Cynder pushed against her partner, desperate for the assurance that they were still alive. Trapped in a strange, unfamiliar place, but alive. They were together, and that’s what mattered to her in that moment. Despite the world seeming to be tumbling down around her, she had her partner and she had her life. * Likewise, the purple dragon beneath her struggled to keep his head up, his form racked with shivering as the cell seemed to turn into a block of ice. Nothing but the onyx dragoness currently holding onto him for dear life could truly chase away the chill threatening to freeze him alive. His arms, though they felt like blocks of lead, reached out desperately. Hovering just under her wings, the weary dragon gripped her back tightly, fear and pain compelling the normally unbreakable purple dragon to seek shelter in the only one that could ever really provide it. The sanctuary that was his dragoness cried weakly as she held onto his body. His fuzzy mind couldn’t seem to grasp what was happening. His memory was a blank space, the last thing that called to him was the dark forest they had taken shelter in. After that all he could recall was a vague feeling of terror and mind numbing agony racing across every part of his body and soul. The sheer weight of it overwhelmed his fragile mind. With nothing to hold onto, he remained in the tight, loving embrace of Cynder, lips pressed against hers. She was here, and he felt safer than he had before. She was strong. She would never realize it, nor would the rest of the world, but this dragoness was the strongest being he had ever seen. Despite all of her own uncertainty, she held him as he shook and trembled, emotion overwhelming him. Breaking off the gentle kiss, the purple dragon flopped against her, his head unable to keep itself up pressed against her chest. The soft red belly scales offered him some comfort. Unable to make much of a sound, the male simply surrendered himself to her crushing embrace, feeling safe and secure despite the aching in his very bones and the uncertainty of the dark, cold world around him. As he met her eyes once again, staring into them as she blinked away the tears and sniffled hard. The reddened eyes were filled with such relief he couldn’t help but smile weakly. Grunting in pain, the dragon struggled to lift a paw, barely finding the strength to do so, he pressed it against her cheek, catching one of her rapidly falling tears upon a claw. Careful not to aggravate his body further, he forced himself upright as best he could, laying a bit more on his sides. The dragoness sensed what he was doing and shifted, leaning her weight lightly against him, giving him as much support as she could. Planting a paw on the floor, his arm shook violently, before he growled, moving his hind legs into a position with better leverage. “Careful…” The dragoness murmured lowly, pulling him with her wing as he began to slip sideways. He coughed once, leaning against her harder as he pushed. Try as he might, he was unable to get even the slightest amount of force on his limbs. His hindlegs in particular burned like lava when he put even the slightest amount of pressure on them. Falling back down heavily, he leaned against the dragoness side as she gazed at him worriedly. Sighing, he flopped down on his side. “I…-” He could barely get the word out. His throat felt like sandpaper that had been nearly sheared flat. The miniscule cracks in his throat became wet and he swallowed hard. The blood dripping in his throat gave an irritating itching sensations and he growled lowly. What the hell was wrong with him? How long had he been out? His tirade was cut off by a soft rub on his shoulder. Twisting his neck, he spotted his companion giving him a remorseful look. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “I don't know how much you remember, apparently you were much worse off than I was, but something found us in the forest.” She shivered. “It mutilated us-” She gestured as his overall form with a paw, appearing disturbed for a moment. “-it got you really bad.” Now that she told him, the vague unease came back to his mind. Though he couldn’t remember it, her words felt true. He looked himself over. Much of his lilac scales were covered in red stained white fabric. Rearing his head around, the dragon’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped at the sight of his heavily bandaged back side. The barest sight of his claws poked through the end of the mattress of white that encompassed his rear limbs. Other than that, the rest of his form appeared to be only partially wounded, nothing his body wouldn’t heal in time. The scars may remain, but the strength in his limbs would return. An ounce of confusion mixed with fear entered him. That still didn’t explain their unusual surroundings. As if in response to his thoughts, the dragoness continued. “We managed to fight it off, but something strange happened. I’m not...really too sure what it was.” She appeared to be thinking hard, her expression tight and her eyes narrowed. “Next thing I remember was waking up in a cell exactly like this-” With a paw and a jerk of her narrow black muzzle she gestured to their surroundings. “And something was talking to me.” He shot her a questioning look, and she dropped her gaze to the floor for a moment. He watched her aptly, the fogginess beginning to clear from his mind by this stage. When she didn’t continue, still lost in though, her expression tense, the purple dragon nudged her. Seemingly returning to her senses, she swung her gaze around to meet his. Sighing, the dragoness spoke once more. “Well, she said her name was Twilight.” His brow furrowed and she laughed hollowly. “Yeah I know, strange name. She wasn’t lying though, I can tell.” Cynder often cursed how good she was at catching even very subtle changes in facial expressions and body language. The aftermath of when she was enslaved and performed...interrogations. “Apparently we ended up in someplace called Ponyville.” Spyro looked as confused as he felt. He lauded over maps for hours in preparation for long trips away from Warfang and that name didn’t even sound slightly familiar. Cynder paused and gave him a look, one that spoke of grim realization. “Spyro.” He turned to her, snapping from his trance. “I don’t think we’re in the realms anymore.” Her words came out tightly, very little emotion seeping into them. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but you haven’t seen them yet...I’ve never seen anything like them.” He gave her a skeptical look, still finding his throat too numb to form words. She noticed the skepticism in his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know if i’d believe myself either.” Without much warning, she retracted her wings from around him and stepped away. “We don’t have much time, I’ll explain later. Can you move?” The purple dragon braced his limbs under himself as best he could. Finding it difficult but not impossible, the injured dragon rose on shaking limbs, and nodded his head. She surveyed him for a moment, watching as he unsteadily moved on trembling forearms and hind legs. The latter looked particularly rough. A moment or two later he turned his lilac eyes in her direction, nodding with some difficulty, he moved beside her. She lay awing over his back, doing the best she could to keep him steady as they slowly padded out of the cell. The clicking of their claws seemed far away and distant now, the only thing on each of their minds being the arduous task of placing one paw in front of the other. As they neared the edge of the cell, Spyro coughed roughly, dislodging a solid glob of dried crimson from his throat. Cynder was immediately alarmed, calling his name in panic as he continued hacking. No more blood followed the first wet cough, but it was still rather horrid sounding. Cursing, Cynder leaned her head down to Spyro’s as it rested near the floor, the trembling of his his legs and wings almost knocking him to the ground once more. Cynder cooed softly in her ear, pressing against him intently as he caught his breath. He waved her off, clutching at his throat, grunting in pain as it once again cracked and bled. Spyro took the brief moment of respite, before lifting his head and shaking his body of some of the tension. Cynder eyed him patiently, a concerned frown marring her muzzle. Spyro did his best to smile, and put one paw in front of the other as they exited the cramped cell. Along with the blockage in his throat being removed, Spyro found that breath was much easier to get out and he sighed as fresher air flooded his lungs. Cynder eyed each direction that the corridor took, unsure of which way led to the way out. As far as she had been able to tell, the walls completely surrounded them. But, it there wasn’t a door, how the hell did they even get down here? “Where to go...where to go…” She whispered to herself heatedly, Spyro suddenly moved her wing away and pressed himself against the walls on the inside of hall. Cynder opened her mouth, in the process of asking what he was doing, when his paws glowed an earthy green. Sudden realization lit her mind and she smirked. Seemed like his head was working just fine. Pressing his paws against the wall, Spyro stood on his hind legs, gripping the stone with clenched talons. Closing his eyes, he rested his head against the wall. Reaching outwards with what little energy remained inside his body, the purple dragon felt his way around the earth. The insides of the wall were solid on this side, but far down on the opposite side he felt a disturbance. A hollow area appeared amongst the stones. Closing off the power supply, the dragon fell back on the floor with a quite gasp. “The wall…” He breathed deeply, voice coming out very strained. Stepping back from the wall, he tripped, but bfeore he could tumble roughly against the ground, the everpresent black dragoness was with him. “What did you see?” She asked, leaning into his bent neck. Spyro gupled hard, swalloing nothing. “The wall...on the other side-” His voice trailed off with another rough cough. The sharp coughs rattled his battered form, and Cynder winced as he breathed raggedly. “We need to get...around.” He breathed heavily, willing away as much exhaustion as he could. The dragoness nodded once, regripping him with a wing and leading him down the right path of the hall. Better to avoid the darkness she had created, she figured. “Alright, now hold on, I got you.” She assured him, strength returning to her voice. Sudden realization flooded through her. He may be winded and weak, but he was alive. They were alive, and they were going to get out of this wretched place. Pulling him along the hall turned out to be a grueling task, even with her strength returning to her. Just short of a dozen times had Spyro staggered roughly, coughing his lungs out in brutal fits, the agonizing quakes burning his body. It was just when she thought that he would collapse totally did they reach the next bend. Flooring it, the dragoness grabbed him tightly, and pushed around the bend roughly, throwing her own body against the side of the wall, easing what would have been a bad fall. Growling, she hoisted him up as best as she could. Dragging herself and him down the hall was wearing her thin. “Did...did we lose the gems?” The purple dragon rasped, forcing another breath into his lungs. Cynder thought back for a moment. In reality she wasn’t sure. Obviously she hadn’t had them when she awoke, so it was more likely they had simply lost them the night they had been attacked. “I don’t know.” She said shortly, moving to place herself against the innermost wall. Not responding, Spyro got the message, and eased himself as softly as he could against the hard stone. Raising a paw, it soon took on a green glow. Placing it against the stone with a rough grunt, the dragon closed his eyes. Sending a pulse of energy through the earth, it bounced back a moment later in most directions. A bit further up to his right his pulse was absorbed into an open area. Ending the pulses, he staggered back with a tired sigh. Cynder caught him against her shoulder. Whispering down to him, she murmured lowly in his ear. Shifting himself onto his haunches, he lifted a paw and pointed down the hall a ways. “There’s something on that wall over there.” He gestured with a shaking paw at a section of wall a few feet away. Giving him a glance, the dragoness walked over to the section he had pointed at. Stepping up to the section, she pressed a paw up against it, scratching at it’s surface. Clenched her talons hard, she jabbed it against the wall hard. Something peculiar happened. Instead of being greeted with the dull thud of hard stone, she was met with a slight echo. Grinning toothily, she pushed hard on the wall, hoping to get a feel for the thickness of the wall. Knowing that her elements were not nearly punchy enough to shoot through solid rock, she sat for a moment and thought. Convexity would accomplish this no issue, but the latent power required may weaken her too much to help her and Spyro fly out of the castle she assumed they were buried under. On one paw, Spyro’s control over earth had about as much stopping power as Terrador’s bulk, however given that the purple dragon could barely even walk it was unlikely he would be doing much of that. In her deep thought she failed to note the quiet hoofsteps following her the entire time. Perhaps if the wall was thin enough a solid gust of wind in the right spots could rupture it. The wall remained just as imposing and solid as one would expect following a sharp burst of nearly solid air. Narrowing her eyes, the dragoness snorted and shook her head. “Stopped by a wall.” She laughed grimly. “Who woulda thought that a simple stone wall could stop us, eh Spyro? He didn’t respond, instead choosing to continue to breathe heavily behind her. This was suddenly cut off as some kind of commotion behind suddenly occured. Whipping around, she was met with a sight that made her snarl. Bloodied, but still alive, the Sapphire eyed pony that she had neglected to finish off earlier frowned at her, eyes burning brightly. Standing backon his hind legs, the pony had Spyro by a headlock, the purple dragon wheezing as he struggled in the smaller creature’s grip. Somehow the bloodied pony his other hoof curled around a razor sharp dagger. A dagger currently drawn across the weakly struggling purple dragon’s throat scales. He whimpered softly, pained at the sudden violent movement of his damaged form. Normally he would have had no trouble throwing something of that size off him and hurling him several feet in the opposite direction. This time however, he was hopelessly drained, and the pony guard was much stronger than he looked. Her eyes narrowed. She knew that much firsthand. He growled at her, poking the dagger deeper into the sensitive throat scales of his victim. “You-” He started removing the dagger from Spyro’s neck at jabbing it in her direction. “Are coming with me. You’re going to face justice for what you’ve done!” He barked at her, cold rage coloring his tone. He placed the knife back against the dragon’s throat. Spyro stared back at her, with no fear, only an expression that seemed to be trusting. He closed his eyes, and ceased his struggling a bit. Fear gnawed on the doors of her mind, which was whirling a thousand ideas a second. The strategist from her past was coming into play here. It was virtually impossible for her to clear this distance without risking Spyro’s life. Blood loss would be devastating in his condition. Even if she was at full strength and mental fortitude she wasn’t sure if she would be able to cut down the pony before he acted. She was normally a blur at full power, but this pony was disciplined enough, at least in her own head he was. He took a step forward, his eyes glued to hers. He glanced at the wall Cynder was poised next to, and a glare intensified. “Even if I wanted to, thanks to you we are trapped down here.” His eyes flicked up to his ruined, bleeding horn. “You are a cruel, evil, monster you know that!” He spat at her. Cynder didn’t respond her eyes fixed on his. A thought occurred to her when she paced to the side. It seemed her struggled walking had jungled loose her previous plan B. Loose beneath her bracer, the shard of glass she had cut the day previous dug against her scales. Taking a step back, she wiggled the limb as discreetly as she could. He appeared too angry to notice, and that would prove fatal for the poor guard. “You know that Wind was only 19!? You think you have the right to take him away from us?” He seethed, teeth gritted, spittle flying from between his clenched jaws. The words struck Cynder, stinging her heart at the implications of that, but she forced it out of her mind, doing her absolute best to quell the spike of guilt. She rattled her foreleg hard, spinning her body around rapidly. The pony cut himself off mid-sentence, pressing the dagger hard against Spyro’s throat. Cynder held her breath, watching in slight panic as Spyro clenched hard. Unaware to the pony and the dragon shivering in his grip, a jagged piece of glass lay within Cynder’s curled talons. The sapphire eyed pony, walked slowly towards her, making sure to keep the dagger pressed against his captive’s throat. “Now, you’re going to wait right here, and you’re going away for murder.” He glared at her, breathing heavily. Cynder didn’t respond, focused solely on concentrating every last bit of wind pressure into a condensed point of the guard’s unprotected forehead. The process took a large amount of concentration and there wasn’t much to work with in the first place. A moment later, the guard would feel a brief breeze followed by nothing. As he stepped another hoof closer, the dragoness propelled the shard along the stream with all her might. It took only fraction of a second for the blade to fly true. It slammed through his skull and into his brain before he could even blink, impacting with a wet crunch. A short gurgle escaped his throat, before he collapsed backwards, the dagger falling freely from his hooves. The purple dragon that was previously in his crushing grip struggled for a moment, throwing the hoof still wrapped around his neck to the side. “Nice shot.” He mumbled as she pulled him to his feet unsteadily. She merely smirked at him, stepping back up the section of wall that was their escape. “This is it.” She said simply, turning to him as he saddled up next to her. He glanced at her before nodding and stepping directly in front of the wall, pressing a glowing green paw against it. It only took him a second to feel through the stone. Her assumption had been correct. He stepped back shaking the paw roughly as pain spiked through the mass of scars on his right foreleg. Sitting back on his haunches, ignoring the tremors that ran through the offending limb, he spoke. “I’m pretty certain it’s not that thick, probably around a few inches of stone between us and whatever’s behind it.” “Can you break it?” He thought for a moment, staring hard at her. Finally, he smiled and nodded. Ignoring the triumphant smirk that crossed her muzzle, barely visible among the black scales, the purple dragon stepped back up to the wall. “Stand back.” He called over his shoulder at her. Cynder nodded, back peddling a foot or two. Facing back towards the wall, Spyro felt the earth beneath his paws come alive, channeling it’s primordial energy into his body and directing it into his mouth. Feeling the energy surge through veins rapidly, Spyro opened his mouth, letting the solid block of condensed earth build within his maw. The rapidly spinning ball of green energy quickly became unstable. Expecting this, Spyro tightened his hold around the rouge, natural power and clenched his eyes. When the spiral flood of spirit energy began to physically drain him, he unleashed it in a short burst of raw power from within his jaws. The solid brick of stone collided with the wall instantly, creating a large crater of splashed stone along with a loud, heavy thudding noise. The thin wall crumbled soon after, it’s foundation and weight gone. Rocks sliding, the doorway soon made itself known to the two dragons. A spiral staircase was hidden behind the wall, leading high up into the light of the cylindrical chamber which it was housed. Coughing, the purple dragon shielded his eyes with a wing, the brittle dust filling the air as the rest of the wall tumbled down hard, leaving a doorway about 5 feet across and 8 feet wide. Seemed a bit big for this particular species he noted, his eyes momentarily casting down to the dead pony lying on his back a few feet away. Spyro grimaced, disliking the needless violence. “We’re free…” Cynder murmured quietly beside him. She whispered it once more, turning to him with a bright smile. He returned it weakly, feeling even more drained after the earth missile. Despite this, he couldn’t help but share her sentiment, while not being stuck down here as long as she probably had, he ached to feel the wind and sun against his scales. Feeling excitement give way to elation, he followed the dragoness into the chamber, already dreading climbing the stairs. She turned back to him, a worried expression on her face. She didn’t voice it, but he was determined to put her worries to rest. He could still do this, he wouldn’t let her down. Climbing the long staircase was as grueling as he figured it would be. It took a few minutes and some close calls. Once or twice his paws had slipped along the metal stairs, and he barely managed to dig his talons into the sides of the stairs before he tumbled backwards down them. It sent his heart into a panic and nearly gave Cynder a heart attack. As they reached the top of the stairs, Spyro almost collapsed in relief. “Thank the ancestors that is over!” He gasped out as he flopped back on his haunches for a moment. Cynder smirked at him, looking slightly winded, but otherwise in much better stead than he was. “Cmon purple boy, we’re not quite out of the woods yet.” Her smirk was gone, replaced with a serious expression as they returned to their feet. Stepping carefully, Spyro followed his near silent companion as they surveyed the new surroundings. The stairs had let into an open courtyard in the middle of an open section, the sky visible overhead. Guessing roughy based on the sun just beginning it downward trot, it looked to be just past midday. They were surrounded by four walls, each barring an open doorway deeper into the building. Thankfully there wasn’t a soul in sight, they had an open area to work with. Next to each of the railings that led along the perimeter of the courtyard, which interestingly enough looked to be made of crystal, were banners and regalia bears that of a six pointed star. The symbol was lost on the purple dragon, but not to his companion. “The one that talked to me.” She started and Spyro turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “She had that mark on her flank.” She pointed a claw at the violet star that each banner bore. Her raised a brow at her. She laughed, shaking her head. “I have no clue what it means.” “Figures.” He rolled his eyes. “We probably shouldn’t stick around to find out.” He jerked his head upwards. She nodded, spreading her tattered wings. Groaning lowly, she stretched the appendages wide, fanning her membranes out. Grimacing as a sensitive spot was struck, the dragoness crouched low., bringing paw up to feel the air. Spyro, did the best he could. His wings, while not damaged like around 80% of the rest of his form, were still rather weak. It did feel very good to stretch after not moving for several days, and he could feel a nervous energy building in the air. A strong gust of wind blew past him, the cool wind rushing against his scales and causing the grass to sway. The sudden sound of flapping filled the air. He turned just in time to see his female companion hop into the air, flapping her wings strongly as she sent gusts of wind around her and her partner. She smiled, a look of utter happiness gracing her muzzle as she twisted around in the courtyard. Spyro couldn’t help the glee that built up inside of him at her infectious happiness. Wiggling his own body, he let his wings lay flat across his back, the golden membranes catching the wind and pulling taut. His wing joints groaned at the movement, but he did his best to ignore it. Bracing himself, he flapped his wings and jumped into the wind swirling around him. It hurt like a pulled tendon, but he managed to get off the ground, flapping his wings frantically as he pushed his body to the limits, forcing everything he had into staying aloft. Thinking quickly, he barked a short burst of flame ahead of him. He flapped hard, propelling himself into the newly created updraft. It caught him, pushing him several feet into the air. The wind whistled in his ears, and he grinned toothily, letting out a triumphant shout. Below him, Cynder smiled as she saw him moving steadily around in circles. Cutting her supply of condensed air, the dragoness flew into his updraft, rising out of the courtyard. “Spyro!” She shouted down to him. He seemed to jolt back to reality, gazing up at her quizzically for a second. She beckoned him forward with an outstretched paw. Pushing his wings hard, the dragon soared up to meet her. Rising out of the castle grounds, she flew off, the purple dragon next to her neither of them looked back. Focused solely on escaping the confines of their prison, they failed to notice the sudden commotion their elements and shouting had caused. Wind howled in their ears, jumping around their streamlined forms as they rocketed away from the castle and in the direction of an enormous orchid, lying for miles on the outside of the small down they found themselves next to. Noting their current course, the purple dragon righted himself and pushed up next to her. “Where to?” He shouted over the pounding winds. She let her eyes drift around their surroundings, casting her gaze around everything to the west and the east. She visibly cringed once her eyes moved over a large, dark, imposing forest several miles to the west. “Anywhere that’s not near that village or that damned forest!” She shouted back, pointing a claw at said woods. He followed her signaling, looking into the forests imposing shadow on the horizon. It was unexplainable, but he felt an extreme shiver coursed through him. “There is something wrong with that place.” He murmured quietly. Cynder had to strain to hear it, but she nodded once, though she appeared a bit surprised. “Do you remember waking up there?” She asked cautiously. Her fears were alleviated when he shook his head. He didn’t speak for a moment, but when he did it was guarded with a nervous tone. “I don’t know why, but I’m getting a weird vibe from it.” He shook his head, eyes narrowing. “It feels like the Well of Souls.” Now that caught her attention. The mountain of Malefor. If he was getting those strange visions and vibes from the...Everfree? She remembered Twilight speaking of the place, a dark, dismal forest that they were found out of. It seemed to fit the bill. It was alarming that Spyro was getting vibes of that place resembling the Well of Souls. Especially since he didn’t even remember the forest from the night they were nearly killed. “You don’t think it’s...him...do you.” A note of fear shot through her, the thought of her former master being alive made her want to hide and go on a murderous rage at the same time. “No.” He answered curtly, giving her a soothing look, knowing just how the thought could affect her. “It’s not him. It’s something...else.” He appeared to be thinking through this deeply, a scowl on his normally bright features. “Well that’s a relief.” She sighed, getting closer to her companion. Them being alive and together made her happy for the moment. “I don’t like it, whatever it is.” And there goes the joy. She sighed heavily. “Thanks for ruining the moment.” Rolling her eyes, she adjusted their tailwind, angling them away from the Everfree and towards the orchard they spotted previously. The massive, thin forest stretched on for miles across the horizon and was rapidly approaching with each passing minute. She called over her shoulder at Spyro, who by this point was showing signs of growing fatigue. “We should stop here for tonight!” She gestured at a large swathe of trees, resting over the setting sun. “Let’s see if we can find some food and hopefully a few spirit gems.” Yeah!” The purple dragon called back, pumping his wings faster as he raced to keep pace with his black scaled partner. “I’m absolutely starving. How long was I out for?” “Not really sure. Probably a day or two, give or take a few.” He nodded silently, angling his body downward as they approached the treeline. Giving one last look over his shoulder at the silent figure of the dark forest on the horizon, he felt a strong chill race up his spine. Make camp for the night, then deal with the forest. He mentally berated himself for acting so weak. Conjuring up his mental blinders, the purple savior focused his attention on his most important goal at the moment, which was to keep him and Cynder alive. Even with this in mind, he found his gaze trailing west, in the direction of the Everfree… * The castle was a mess. An hour after the dragons had been seen disappearing on the horizon, and the castle was completely overturned. Shouting and screaming of orders everywhere at once, it was almost too much for even Rainbow Dash to handle. This kinda mess was beyond even her ability to rationalize. The corpses of Major Azure’s team had been found under the castle. It was far from a pretty sight, Rainbow had arrived back with the rest of the Elements of Harmony just in time to hear Twilight yelling for somepony to check the dungeon. Rainbow had taken a small escort of her own hoof picked guards and ventured down the stairs. They hadn’t expected what they would find. As they touched down, they found the hidden wall completely decimated. Bits of stone and concrete littered the floor of the chamber that housed the staircase. Carefully stepping over and past pieces of torn and bent rebar, the entourage stepped out into the hallway. Immediately, the small team was stopped dead in their tracks. A few feet from the entrance, lay the corpse of the most seasoned guard in Ponyville. Major Azure. He lay on his back, eyes staring blankly against the ceiling, dead and sunken in. What they immediately noticed was the shard of glass sticking out of his forehead, just underneath his destroyed horn. The sight wasn’t pretty. Disturbed, Rainbow had called back up the stairs for reinforcements, screaming that was casualties. They had taken the route down to the black dragon’s cell, knowing from Twilight that she was the first to awaken. The nightmare that greeted them wasn’t pleasant. The second they turned the bend, the stench of blood and gore became overwhelming. Further down the hall, the mass of bodies lay still, spread out along the middle of the hall. Crimson splattered the floor and wall in splotchy patterns. The amount of blood wasn’t grotesque, but was plenty brutal for the normally sheltered ponies. White fur had been ripped to shreds, caking golden armor a dull, faded crimson. Amongst the carnage, several bits of vertebrae had been splashed along the remains of one of the guards, his bloodied back ripped open and spine torn to pieces in places. Even the seasoned veterans of the service were forced to turn away at that one. Shell shocked, the small escort checked the rest of the tunnel, following a small blood trail that looped around the, noting the empty cells along each side of the tunnel. The trail took them back to Azure’s lifeless corpse, which was being wrapped in a body bag by a blank faced Pegasus. He gave them simple glance, before returning to his work. The grim scene immediately shook the castle. Rainbow had been forced to break the news to Twilight. The unicorn was obviously blown away by the development, stopping midway through her explanation of the situation to the rest of the Elements. They didn’t take it well. Fluttershy was downright destroyed, passing out at Rainbow’s detailed explanation to her superior. Knowing it was necessary didn’t make the rainbow maned pegasus feel any better about it. Twilight nodded grimly, calling up her own guards and informing them of the situation. The other elements didn’t quite fall to the world of the sandman at the gruesome description of the scene, but they were just as horrified as she felt. Rainbow wouldn’t admit it, being the captain of the guard required her to act professional in these kind of scenarios, but she was shook by what she had seen. What kind of monsters would do that to a pony? Unable to find an answer, she had simply resorted to doing her best to explain to Twilight the implications, however the Alicorn didn’t need any. A brief conversation between the five ensued, with each of them giving their conclusions on the matter. Applejack and Rainbow had both agreed that the matter needed to be contained immediately. Twilight was rather against this, arguing that the need of the two princesses in Canterlot was now required. Dash had fiercely stated that the time it would take would give the dragons the necessary time to escape and heal. The farm pony to her side had been slightly less adamant, but had still agreed nonetheless, pointing out that even if they did fight back they must been exhausted from their fight and flight response they pulled off. Pinkie and Rarity had remained astutely quiet, still looked rather floored about the craziness that had suddenly sprung. Monsters were one thing, but dragons killing eight of the most well trained unicorns in Equestria? That was a scary thought. Eventually Twilight had given the executive order. Grabbing a scroll sealed away in a locked compartment under her desk, the Alicorn returned to the two and gave them a task. She explained that she was going to use the scroll to instantly teleport to Canterlot and get Celestia to act on the urgency. Keeping her voice as level as possible, she also explained that Rainbow was to gather the remaining guards and place Ponyville on high alert. Dash was still skeptical of not going on her manhunt, but agreed. And that left her where she was currently, barking orders at the disheveled Castle just minutes after Twilight had left. The elements had somewhat regathered their wits and were doing the best they could regain control of the situation. It took some doing, but eventually they were able to wrangle the guard together into organized units. Pegasi units, were usually smaller than their unicorn counterparts, often grouping simply in pairs, rather than the large battalions that unicorns made up. Rainbow as head of the guards had made this so that pegasi units could work in dynamic groups, playing off each other in emergencies. Little did she know just how important that change was going to be in the near future. “Lancelot!” She barked, fully in captain mode. He didn’t verbally respond, instead saluting with a hoof. Her piercing red eyes met his cold steel ones. “Split these eight-” She pointed at the rigid pegasi standing just behind him. “Get them into the units we discussed.” A moment later she addressed them collectively. “You are to all spread out around Ponyville! Keep your eyes open for the dragons. We need them alive so don’t resort to lethal force unless you have to.” Her eyes bore into them, hammering her point across. Turning curtly, she walked down to the line of assembled Unicorns, around sixteen in total. Stopping a few feet in front of their platoon leader, Rainbow snapped to face him. “Armory, you are to split your units off and disperse them around the entire town! I don’t want those beasts able to get within even a mile of anypony. Understood!?” He saluted sharply, eyes never straying from her own. She smirked. Professionals, all of them. A newfound confidence entered her. If those dragons thought they could hurt anypony in this town, well then they had another thing coming. “Dismissed!” The entire battalion saluted as one, turning curtly and filing out of the castle courtyard. Turning after they had all left, Rainbow found her friends smiling at her, Applejack bearing a teasing smirk. Walking back to them, she sat down at the small table they were grouped around, letting a tired sigh escape her. “Well RD, I didn't know you had it in ya to be a general.” The farm pony spoke, a tone of teasing coloring her southern drawl. The chromatic pegasus merely rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, you know.” She rubbed at the table with a hoof dismissively. “Gotta act the part, to be the part.” She wiggled her brows a bit. Applejack laughed along with her. Rarity spoke up from the other side of the table. “I must agree with Applejack dear, you really have learned how to take charge.” She appeared rather impressed. “You have really grown into a leader.” The pegasus felt her ego inflate a bit. Puffing out her chest, she rubbed down the fur on her neck. Becoming serious once again, the pegasus held her expression tight. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t get any more bloody.” She held the expression for a few moments, before laughing to herself. “Ah, who am I kidding, of course we got this handled.” Seemingly reimbursed by her confidence, the five mares, rehearsed what they had been told by their Alicorn friend. “So Dash-” Rarity continued. “What ever was this Soothsayer thing that Twilight was so worked up over?” Rainbow gave her a confused look. “Uh, what’s a ‘toothslayer’? She questioned dumbly. Rarity shook her head, bring a hoof to her face while the rest of the mares laughed. “It’s ‘Soothsayer’ dear. And it was some creature in the Everfree that she was freaking out over.” The proverbial Light bulb appeared over the pegasus’s head. “Oh! That!” Her expression darkened for a moment, ruby eyes losing some of their luster. “I’m not really all that sure, honestly. She was mostly spouting gibberish, and not the kind of babble that a lot of what Twi says is. It was just like, she sounded like one of those ponies with the tin-foil hats.” She scratched at the side of her head somewhat unsure of how to word it. The other four shot her strange looks, glancing between each other. Pinkie, who up until this point had been uncharacteristically silent, spoke up. “Maybe she was just scared, sometimes when my granny would get really scared she would start making up weird stuff.” The pink mare added in cheerfully, looking 100% sure of herself. Rainbow nodded at her. “Yeah, it’s pretty much like that.” She flopped backwards, bending her body back and looking into the setting sun. “I’m just not sure though. We all know that Twi has a habit of flying off the rails, but this time seems different.” She sighed, pulling herself back up into her seat. “It was weird.” Were the only three words she could think to say. “Well hey now” Applejack nudged her on the shoulder. Her lime green eyes bearing a note of comfort. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” She turned to the rest of the group. “We stick together, and we solve this the old Ponyville way, by hoof and grit.” She smiled brightly at the rest of her friends. They couldn’t help but be refreshed by her cheer. Dash leaned forward, clapping her hoof against the farm pony. “Damn straight!” After that passionate exclamation, the next hour was spent mostly just catching up with one another. They had all been rather busy as of late, so this valuable time, despite it’s macabre undertones, was most welcome to the five mares. Sadly, their fun was shortly cut off by a shrill cry approaching the castle courtyard. They all turned at the familiar voice as it bounced off the walls of the castle. Jumping to their hooves, the five mares dropped whatever conversation they had been having and rushed inside. “Applejack!?” A yellow furred filly was prancing around the main room of the castle, calling out the name rapidly and with an urgent tone of voice. “Cmon sis, where are ya!?” The filly nearly jumped out of her skin as her sister, along with the four other mares skidded to a stop right outside the doorway she about to pad through. “What is it Applebloom?” The orange mare rushed up to her sister, checking her for damages. “Are ya hurt?! What’s the matter?” The yellow filly struggled in her sister’s iron grip, not liking the sudden contact. “No, no I’m fine.” Indignation colored her drawl, and she stomped a hoof in front of the orange mare. Applejack gave her a strange look. Why was she so panicked that she would run all the way to Twilight’s Castle. “Well, then why are ya here in such a hurry?” The farm pony was confused. From how out of breath she was it looked like she had been running from a pack of Timberwolves. “I saw something fly over the farm! They looked like Spike, but waaaay bigger.” She spread her arms wide apart, attempting to show just how big what she had seen was. That got their attention instantly. Before Applejack could respond, her chromatic pegasus friend butted in “What color were they?” She asked insistently. Applebloom looked surprised at the question, just staring at her for a moment. Shaking herself back to her senses, she answered in childish glee. “Um, it was kinda hard to see, but black and purple ah think.” She seemed uncertain, but Rainbow had heard all she needed. They had taken off for the apple orchard on the edge of town. Rainbow’s expression hardened. They thought could just murder her guards and run off with zero consequences. Cold rage flooded her. No, that would not do. She was broke from her angered thoughts as Applejack gripped the fill softly. “Did ya see where they went?” She asked more out of concern for her sister and her farm, rather than for Ponyville. The filly answered almost immediately. “Yeah, I watched them for a bit. They landed in the grove.” The grove, that rung a note with all familiar with the orange mare’s farm. The grove was clustered group of trees not too far from the barn and very close to the clubhouse that Applebloom called home. Rainbow turned to Applejack. “We got them!” Without waiting for a response she turned to the other three mare’s currently watching as her expression morphed into solid determination. “Rarity, please, I need you to watch after Applebloom!” She pleaded with the unicorn insistently The fashionista was caught off guard by the sudden request, but after witnessing the pleading look in her friend’s ruby eyes, she nodded wordlessly. Without another word, Rainbow grabbed Applejack around the neck and began sprinting for the door. The farm pony struggled in the iron grip of her pegasus comrade. “What! Dash what are you doing, Twilight said to wait!” Rainbow didn’t look at her, just continuing to shove the earth pony along. “We have them cornered! We can get them without anymore problems.” The farm pony looked as though she wanted to argue, but closed her mouth anyway. “Fine, but only for mah farm!” She smiled, throwing Rainbow’s arm off her and sprinting ahead. The Pegasus smirked, chasing her out threw open front gate. Pounding her hooves into the dirt road, she called out to the mare in front of her currently barreling towards the darkening town. “Grab as many guards as you can! Tell them to meet up on the outskirts of town and to be ready!” Throwing herself upwards, the rainbow maned pegasus shot into the sky, she hovered a moment as Applejack threw her a questioning look as she ran. “What are you gonna do?” “I’m gonna push them towards town! Just be ready!” Without waiting for a response, she took off over the town. The darkening skyscape made it harder to see the patrols rushing around the airspace of Ponyville, but she caught the attention of two of the patrols. “Group up with me!” The pegasus screamed loudly, projecting her voice against the howling wind. Four pegasi fell in line behind her, barely managing to keep up with the speed demon of a Pegasus she was. “Captain Rainbow Dash!” One of the ponies behind her shouted. “What is happening ma’am?” She didn’t answer immediately. Turning her eyes to the grove on the edge of the horizon, she could easily make out it’s form against the highlighted orange backdrop. The sky above tinged with darkening clouds of night fall, Rainbow’s visibility was starting to become a bit more limited. “The dragons have cornered themselves in a bundle of trees at the farm on the edge of town! We are going to run them into our battalion and capture them.” Though she couldn’t see it, the four behind her exchanged looks. They had hear about the carnage that those dragons had done to eight of the most elite guards in the battalion, what chance did they stand? “Ma’am?” One of them called worriedly. She didn’t break stride. “Listen, they are weak and aren’t expecting us. We don’t have to fight them. What we have to do is scare them into flying away.” She turned her head just enough to look at them from the corner of her eye. “Although, if they try to fight us show them why pegasi are queens of the air!” She yelled arrogantly, flaunting her wings as they neared the orchard. A bit less nervous, the quartet behind her followed suit, angling downwards, following their leader in. The cluster of trees was hard to see through, the fading light illumination only the outside of the grove. Alongside the edge, the makings of a small camp were visible. Obviously the dragons hadn’t created a fire, it seemed they weren’t stupid. “Surround the grove, I’m gonna scare them out! Chase them when they go but don’t try to fight.” Rainbow called to her group, angling back up above the grove sharply. Landing on opposite sides of the small grove, the pegasi focused their eyes deep into the nearly pitch black thicket. Up above, their leader shot straight up into the air, easily reaching a height of over a mile within a few minutes. For a moment her tiny shape hovered, before rapidly falling. Eyes widening, the pegasi, sat back and covered their ears, knowing exactly what was coming. Her figure rapidly descended, creating a barely visible cleft in the air as she race towards the sound barrier. Nearly halfway to the ground, the whistling starting. A high pitched whine that broke the silence hauntingly. It seemed to grow in decibels as the rainbow trail grew in size. It all reached a breaking point as Rainbow neared the ground, only a few thousand feet from the ground. Then it happened. All sound seemed to disappear for a moment as an enormous blast of chromatic light split the clouds. Several seconds later, the sonic boom slammed harshly against their ear drums. Skye, a guard on the west side, was the first to recover first, uncovering his aching ears, and turning his eyes up towards the circle of rainbow colored energy rapidly splitting across the sky. He was mesmerized, shaking slightly at the sight. He was brought back to reality as two figures shot by overhead, pointed directly perpendicular of Ponyville. Shaking himself from his stupor, he jumped into the air, flapping his wings madly as he fought to catch up with them. Behind him, the cry of Rainbow was faintly audible. Pumping his wings hard, he fought to keep up with the dragons. By celestia they were quick! After around a minute of maddening pursuit, the familiar shape of Rainbow Dash barreled past him. Flying by under him, the mare banked sharply, turning inward towards the two dragons. He saw the black one’s head swivel and her mouth moved. Suddenly, a blast of wind pushed against him, sending him nearly tumbling through the air. Keeping as much pressure as he could pull. Up ahead, it seemed the blast of sudden draft hadn’t even phased his chromatic Captain. She kept her course solid, attempting to ram into the pair. They suddenly curved, just missing Dash’s attempted collision, edging closer to Ponyville and closer to the ground. Sensing his opportunity, Skye pressed forward, meeting up with the rest of his Guard. * Dash cursed as she missed her quarry by a hair. It wasn’t all bad news however as the pair edged closer to the line of Unicorns she could see waiting outside of the town’s borders. This close, she had a good view on the dragons that had caused so much trouble. The black one appeared minimally harmed with only a few swathes of bandages around her barrel. Her companion on the other hoof, it was a wonder he could even fly. Most of his body was covered in white fabric, many of them marred with deep red splotches burned through. He looked to be having trouble keeping up with his black scaled partner, if his straining of wings was anything to go by. Snarling, the black one glared into Dash’s eyes as they met for a moment. Breaking contact, Dash angled herself backwards, peeling off to the opposite side and over the dragons. To her rear, her guard, pressed forward, taking the spot she was previously at. With a firm shove, her guards moved as a unit, pressing forward and moving the pair without actually touching them. From directly above them, Rainbow pressed down, forcing them lower. Desperate, the pair bent down strongly shooting right over the heads of the line of Unicorns at the ready on the edge of the town limits. Acting as a flak cannon, the unicorns fired blasts of ivory magic into the sky, each exploding within a very close distance. Yelling for her guards to ease off, Rainbow dove hard, slamming into the injured purple dragon with significant force. He gasped in pain, dropping several feet, but still managing to keep himself aloft. A snarl was the only warning she got before a red hot lance of agony ripped through her barrel. Just a moment after she had dealt the rather damaging blow, the black dragoness next to him sprung into action, slashing her razor sharp talons across Rainbow’s belly. Screaming in pain, Rainbow banked off sharply propelling away from two quickly. Her lapse in Judgment wasn’t punished more however as their plan still worked. As she banked off, a blast of unicorn flak exploded right between the two dragons, engulfing them in blistering energy. A muted yelp of pain emanated from the cloud shortly, before the two spiraled downwards into the ground, ending up right outside the entrance to the Everfree. Rainbow winced as she watched them tumble head over tail against the ground. The impact looked rough. She grimaced as she watched them smash against a tree or two before even beginning to slow down. Despite the red hot agony against her belly, Dash smiled as the unicorns moved in on the downed dragons. Turning her gaze up to the sun as it crested the horizon and fell below it, the mare smirked arrogantly. All in a day's work. * Spyro groaned. That hurt like hell. Lifting a paw to his eyes, he rubbed them clear of the dirt and grass that had splattered against his face when he tumbled. Wincing, he laid his head back with another groan. The impact had jarred his already fragile body right to the bones. Several strips of the tightly bound fabrics covering his wounds had come undone and the freely torn wounds bled once more. Amidst the ringing in his ears, he heard the distant sound of heavy footsteps. In the growing migraine he could feel every hoof that pounded against the ground, sending nails deep into his skull. Moments passed and the ringing grew louder. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, begging silently for it to stop. Unable to take much more, the purple dragon opened his eyes groggily. As he lay on his stomach facing a dark forest several feet away, his eyes fell upon the limp object protruding from the ground. Even in the minimal light, the reflection of it’s black scales were visible. Cynder. He tried to speak, but his throat wouldn’t work, it just sputtered lowly, a few jumbled sounds escaping him. Attempting to put any pressure on his limbs resulted in nothing but pain, stinging like that of a swarm of fire ants. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth once again. His words came out strained, but he managed to weakly gasp out her name. A low moan from the from reached him and he felt relief flood his body. The limp figure turned, pushing itself up shakily, and with trembling movements turned to face him. Emerald green eyes peered back at him, looking alarmingly unfocused and weary. She groaned as she rested one arm against the ground, barely managing to sit back on her haunches, her head rocking back as she did so. The narrow muzzle evened out after a moment and her eyes peered behind him, looking like it did so more unconsciously than anything else. Suddenly those green orbs gained a hell of a lot more focus and narrowed dangerously. The dragoness opened her mouth to speak, but it appeared her voice wouldn’t work well either. A massive pressure forced itself on top of him from nowhere. A realization of what those pounding steps were earlier quickly became known in his mind. His arms were suddenly grabbed, being forced painfully behind his back and across his wings. The limbs, not meant to bend this way ached painfully at the rough contact. He growled threateningly, but before he could whip around and bite blindly, his neck was jammed against the ground, a muzzle being forced over his own. The tight pressure stung painfully, and he struggled against his captors. His weak body couldn’t throw them off and instead all he did was strain himself, forcing them to be tougher to keep his body down.The situation looked bleak. His eyes found Cynder once again. She was snarling murderously, eyes slitted, and lips pulled back. She appeared more like a wild animal right now than the proud dragoness he loved. Her attempt to get back up resulted in a pained cry leaving her and the murderous look fading slightly. Lifting a foreleg, she cradled the mangled limb closer to her belly. It looked awful. The impact had sheared most of her scales off, leaving bloody, red marks along the entirety of the forearm. Broken, or close to it, he couldn’t tell. The arm was bent awkwardly, hanging limp against her bruised form. Hobbling on three legs, the dragoness was nearly impossible to make out against the backdrop of the black forest just a few feet shadowing her. Her limping didn’t stop her, and she continued to slowly move towards him, her eyes fixed on those holding him down. Despite trying his best, he couldn’t fight off the strength of those holding him down. With his entire focus on the injured dragoness hobbling towards him, he could barely make out the angry exclamations of the ponies holding him down. The heat blazing across his body suddenly ran cold, the terrifying feeling of the Well of Souls running across his spine. He couldn’t explain it, but the forest shadowing Cynder became darker, more menacing. It seemed to grow and distort before his very eyes. From the looks of it, she felt it too. She slowly turned around, her body trembling as she stared up at the massive blackness suddenly bearing down on her from mere steps away. He vaguely recalled throwing off his captors for a second, screaming for her to run, to get the hell away. The terror even spread to those above him, for the forceful yelling had stopped, replaced with quiet whimpering. The cold metal of the chains holding him down no longer bothered him. He struggled madly against his restraints, throwing off the pony that been positioned over his back, but he still couldn’t break through the strong metal holding him down. She wasn’t running, instead the black dragoness just started, shaking, into the depths of hell itself. His ears began ringing again, but not from pain. The bell began to toll, the unholy ringing bashing against the walls of his skull and mind. Gurgling started to gush out of the confines of the morphing, demonic forest. Sirens screamed inside his head. Terrible feelings of helplessness overwhelmed him, and he struggled madly, and unnaturally against his restraints, but they refused to bend to his terror. As if alive, a tendril of blackness emerged from the borders of the woods, slowly slithering along the dirt towards the rigid black dragoness. As soon as it touched her, she broke from her horrified trance. Taking no heed of her injuries she spun and planted her hind legs behind, a look of horror etched across her features. The tentacle of shadow immediately dropped it’s lack of coloration, morphing into a sickly, fleshy shade. It latched onto one of her hind legs, pulling hard. She screamed as she was pulled backwards falling on her belly. The tentacle burned through her flesh, melting her scales together. Crying out, her head perked up. She screamed in agony and fear as it dragged her towards the forest. The dragoness desperately swiped at the appendage with her tail blade but, it didn’t even scratch it. Panicking, she clawed at the ground attempting to get something to hold on to. Her eyes met his, and the world turned to ash. In those eyes he saw the most soul-shaking depiction of terror imaginable. Utter hopeless swirled within the wet emerald orbs, the pain and fear clouding her once beautiful eyes. Despair shot through his being, without even realizing it was screaming his throat raw, yelling her name. “Let go! Please! Please just let go of me! Cynder!” He screamed her name for well over several seconds, his voice cracking. Despite his desperate shouts, the restraints didn’t move. He scraped his scales painfully against the metal shackles, but he didn't even notice, the weight of his fear and sorrow too great. Her haunting shrieks upped in pitch and he watched helplessly as she was dragged into the darkness of the forest, all the while screaming his name in shocking desperation. As she disappeared from sight, he screams took on a haunting quality, seeming to echo and bounce around in the forest. The damned bell tolling only added to the surreal sensation coursing through him. Just moments after being pulled kicking and screaming her shrieks began to be laced with disturbing cries of pain, every now and then accompanied by a loud cracking sound. The horrible noises combined with the utterly damaging effects of the bells and alarms, caused havoc within his own mind. The torture lasted a little over a minute. As her soul-severing cries and moans of pain reached the highest levels yet, they suddenly stopped. Spyro felt his heart completely shatter into fragments. The despair of listening to her torture, was shockingly painful, but the second it stopped, and so abruptly, he felt his life force shear itself. She was gone. Gone in the most horrifyingly terrible way he had ever seen. Images of her body, ripped to shreds and cut to ribbons, dismembered and flayed, and all of this with that same gut wrenching look of fear flashed across his vision. She was gone. The forest seemed to laugh at him, his despair overclocking as pure sorrow destroyed every last bit of hope inside of him. She was gone The havoc inside his own head pleased it, he could feel it’s happiness, he could feel it’s hunger. It had destroyed her and it loved every second of it. It had murdered her right in front of his eyes, mutilating her just so that the the purple dragon could watch. She was gone! Almost like the flip of a switch, something changed. His vision darkened, everything but that dreaded forest vanished from view. His hearing completely blocked out the yelling cries as the ponies holding him down were burned by his suddenly boilingly hot scales. Nothing mattered to him at that moment, his vision focused solely on the thing that had just ripped out the most important thing in his life. All the while the same tuanting thousand eyes gazed deep into his soul, even as his mind tore itself apart. The moisture around him vaporized. The metal shackles pinning him to the ground began to melt. His despair turned into a very different emotion. Starting from deep with his soul, a floodgate opened, releasing a surge of boiling, blistering heat into his blood. His blood turned to lava. His mind pushed itself deep with another locked passage as a monstrous, terrifying, demonic anger forced it deeply into the far corners of his head. His entire body was quickly flooded with a blistering, unfathomable, all consuming rage... > ...The Heat of Our Flames Will Sear the Earth. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The courtyard outside of the Castle was strangely devoid of company. The busy streets of Canterlot weren’t affected by this, however the lack of ponies outside of the grand castle was rather strange, even for a Saturday evening. The polished white tile and marble walls and paved roads shined a pale orange light in the setting sun. Outside, the royal guards were none the wiser to the coming approach an unexpected visitor. Amidst the paved cobblestone roads, the smell of alcohol and baked goods drifted up from the lower end areas of the shining city, the nightlife beginning to take hold as the sun slowly fell over the horizon. The busy night that accompanied the interior of the large palace shadowing the rest of the city was very soon going to be interrupted. Before it would appear, the air suddenly gained a stench like that of burning metal. The acidic iron smell wafted around the courtyard. Among the odor, the spark of a strong magical signature momentarily sparked, quickly followed by a raw blast of magical energy. Appearing from nowhere, a lavender colored Alicorn blinked into the open area, startling the various staff who had been roaming the palace grounds. The drone of a metallic pinging signaled her surprise teleportation. The roaming ponies shook off their surprise once they took notice of who it was. Some of them rolled their eyes, proceeding back to their tasks. Twilight raised her head, vague hints of steam wafting off her body at the magical heat. Shaking her head with a relieved sigh, the Alicorn took off without even guessing her location. It wasn’t an issue, safe to say she knew this Castle rather well. Hooves clip clopping along the polished marble flooring, she wandered down the long, spacious corridors at a heated, quick pace. She was eager to see her former mentor, though the situation was much more dire than she would’ve liked to bring to her. The mention of dragons, especially ones as dangerous as these two, was cause for concern. Not to mention the wild card that was the Soothsayer. She still hadn’t forgotten what that thing could do. The familiar corridors did nothing to ease her stress, for she knew that this situation could potentially shake Equestria if not handled right. Despite this, the Alicorn felt fairly confident in herself and her companions. Together they had proved to be nothing short of miracle workers and why would that have a reason to change? Noting the increased number of ponies milling about as she approached the throne roam, Twilight felt unease build in her gut. It wasn’t strange to see a good amount of company wandering around this particular area, at least not any less common than she remembered it being, however it begged the question of why this was the case on a Saturday night. A night when most of the Palace staff was given free time. For whatever reason, Celestia had felt the need to keep the Castle rather active tonight and she intended to find out why. The rooms leading to the throne started to take a much more hectic quality the closer she got. Quick peeks into several as she passed lent her no real results, merely hearing gibberish amongst the swarm of voices that now surrounded her. The uneasiness in her gut tripled. This was extraordinarily unlike the norm. Several ponies draped in black and purple garb passed her along the way, giving her looks mixed with concern and resignation. Twilight returned the looks with confused and slightly scared glances of her own, finding it nearly impossible to think over the constant drone of hundreds of voices. The progressive spear against the inside of her head drove the mare mad, but she held onto it as best she could. Keeping as much happy thoughts in her head as she could, the Alicorn moved quickly between hallways. She wished she wasn’t so damn exhausted or she would have just blinked into the throne room. However the events of the day had taken quite a toll on the lavender mare. Quickly flashing her horn, a bubble of soundproofing engulfed her galloping form. Her mind felt itself free from the crushing vice of noise and she breathed a sigh of relief. The sound within the bubble was so constrained that she could hear her pounding heart directly over the rush if her hooves clopping against the marble. Clacking quietly, the mare’s hooves skid to a halt around the shallow bend of a forked crossroads. It took her a only a moment's hesitation to decide, and with a firm nod she galloped down the crowded corridor on the right. Cursing her luck, the lavender mare spread her wings and jumped high. Ignoring the likely cries of surprise from those below her, Twilight hit the top of the corridor in a few seconds, gliding over the racing ponies far below. Doorway in sight, Twilight bent down, folding her wings against her sides, and for a moment she simply free fell. Halting with a grunt, her wings ached painfully in their sockets as the lavender mare stopped her fall abruptly. Those near the large open doorways bowed respectfully once they caught sight of her less than graceful landing. Catching her breath, Twilight pushed through the doorway, dropping the bubble, she was blissfully, but all the more surprisingly greeted by near silence. The only sound being the breathing she was pushing forcefully from her tired lungs. Hoofsteps echoing, the mare entered the massive throne chamber. On both sides of the room sat a large, circular, wooden table formed in a semi circle. Across the tables she took note of the large, hastily strewn scrolls and parchment adoring nearly the entirety of the polished wooden surface. Absent were the normal array of fancily dressed politicians and advisors, instead replaced by ponies garbed in white robes and purple dresses. Wizards and magical experts, she recognized instantly. Despite the somber mood resonating within the silent chamber, Twilight felt a smile grace her features at the familiar sights of mages and wizards. In her childhood that had been a comforting presence during darker times. Being the prized student of the most powerful leader in Equis had it’s fair share of dangers. Shaking the distressing memories from her thoughts, Twilight turned her muzzle to the back center of the room. Sitting gracefully on her throne, adorned by a flowing mane of chromatic colors, the great Princess Celestia sat silent, a unreadable expression as she regarded the Alicorn steadily approaching her. Twilight felt the unease build. Why hadn’t Celestia said anything. The normal motherly presence was gone, she almost had the look of snake watching to see what it’s prey would do. Twilight gulped hard, pressing the growing lump in her throat down as her hooves clacked loudly against the floor. Feeling shivers run down her spine at the emotionless quality of her former mentor’s expression. The monarch continued to stare down at her former student, unblinking as the mare approached. Her pink eyes didn’t stray in the slightest, focused sharply on the dark purple ones staring back warily. Seconds clocked down, the tension in the room building with each and every step the lavender Alicorn took closer to the great throne. Every clop of hooves against marble seemed to echo twice over, ringing around the room for a moment. Twilight felt a bead of drip down her coat and the sensation almost made her composure crack. Controlling her breathing was a difficult endeavor, but she managed to surpass the building fear enough so that her body didn’t quake and her steps didn’t stutter. Just a few more steps now. Twilight felt the world slow. From this distance the anxious mare could see the tension in her fellow princess’s body. Her wings were held taut against her back, nape of her neck standing up. Her jaw line was locked tightly, barely noticeable tremors running along her regal frame. Her eyes were the most striking though, rimmed with dark shadows. Inside those pink irises she saw barely concealed malice and suspicion. The purple mare stopped less than a step away from the edge of the throne, overcome by the unexpected welcome from her beloved mentor. Twilight held the Alicorn’s hard gaze for several seconds, the room growing stiffer. Within the terrified waiting, Twilight felt her heart threaten to burst from the strain. Every single moment that passed felt like hours and Twilight wasn’t sure how much more of that piercing, shockingly intense gaze she could handle. Tension struck her body, pulling her muscles tight under purple fur, sending visible lines of rigidity against the coat. The only thing stopping her teeth from snapping together was the force holding her jaw closed. Just as she thought the room would explode, the white Alicorn breathed a sigh of relief and dropped her gaze. Twilight gasped, falling back on her haunches pressing a hoof tightly against her chest, the numb feeling of terror fresh. She spent the next few moments catching her breath and willing her trembling limbs to relax. Bowing before the monarch, the lavender coated Alicorn felt her nervousness melt away a bit. Stepping down from her throne quickly, Celestia brought a hoof up under her fellow Alicorn’s chin. Unfocused and teary lilac irises met pink for a brief moment, before the lilac broke the contact, gazing intently at the ground below her hooves. “What...what was that all about?” The mare stuttered anxiously, keeping her gaze pressed towards the floor. She could feel her heart pounding in her head like a cannon mid siege and the noise was giving her a headache once again. “I had to be sure.” The alabaster monarch said simply her voice unrevealing. Twilight broke her stare, turning her head back up to her former mentor. Her eyes looked dimmed, but she could not see the previous suspicion in them. “Sure of what exactly?” Twilight was confused to say the least. She had never gotten that kind of reaction from the princess, even from her failures she had never received that hostile, prodding stare that the monarch had dished out. The alabaster princess gave her a long look, before breaking her gaze and dropping her head in slight defeat. Sighing, the tired Alicorn dropped back onto her haunches in front of her previous student. “Princess?” Twilight questioned once again when she didn’t respond for a long while. Celestia raised her head, eyes panning around the room. A moment later, the Alicorn monarch returned her former student’s worried and curious gaze. “Did you feel it?” The pale Alicorn questioned strongly, finally. “Feel what?” Twilight had a feeling she already knew what the monarch was asking her, but she waited for her to say it. Celestia gazed out the window to the right, her eyes pointing in the direction of Ponyville. “Five days ago-” She started, returning her eyes to meet those of her fellow Alicorn. “Something large breached our world.” Twilight felt her blood run cold as her suspicions were confirmed. “What was it?” She already knew the answer, but she didn’t want to hear it. Deep within her being, she knew that whatever came from Celestia’s mouth would change everything, nothing could be the same after what she had witnessed, this was just too out of her element. “We are not completely sure.” She gestured to the swarms of wizards and magical experts around the large chamber. “I wanted to avoid getting you involved Twilight.” She gazed back at her former student remorsefully. “Then I guess you know why I’m here, huh?” Twilight felt slightly hurt at not being involved, but it was quickly dashed by Celestia’s response. “I am sorry Twilight.” She sighed heavily. “You and the other elements do so much for us, I just...I didn’t want to get you involved with this.” The lavender Alicorn felt her anxiety swell. “Princess, what exactly are we dealing with here?” Twilight got to her hooves, looking the princess dead in the eye. Celestia nodded once. “Again, we are not completely sure, but we do know that three beings, three very powerful beings came through.” Twilight grimaced. She had gotten very personally close to two of the three. Celestia noticed her cringe, but she didn’t say anything, just narrowed her eyes. Twilight didn’t say anything, her mind focused elsewhere now. They were enough to make Celestia, the most powerful magical being on the entire planet nervous. The idea made her knees weak and her coat stand on end. What could they do, she needed to know, there was no way this could be the end. “Twilight.” She was broken from her increasingly downhill thoughts by the warm voice of the monarch. “I know you’ve seen it. It’s why I greeted you like that, I need to make sure you were still...well you.” Now Twilight was confused. “Why would I not be?” “Hmm.” Celestia hummed lowly for a moment. Stepping forward, she raised her the lavender mare’s head with a hoof. “Look into my eyes.” Though she was confused, Twilight trusted her and did as she was told. For a moment nothing happened, then her vision drained of color. Scared, Twilight wanted to look away, but found that her vision was locked deeply into the eyes of Celestia. The alabaster Alicorn began to change slightly, her coat gradually growing darker, along with the rest of the surrounding walls and other ponies. Terrified, Twilight struggled, but found her limbs unable to move. Her eyes began to burn, heating up as though they were being engulfed in gunpowder and gasoline. Her horn flared, but quickly died out, leaving nothing but a fizzling sensation in the now useless appendage. Everything began to fizzle out, her horn, her life, her dreams, leaving nothing but ash. Just as suddenly as the sensation came, it was swiftly pulled from her, leaving her feeling hollow and tired. The world jumbled back together regaining color and imagery reminiscent of a watercolor painting. A second later it popped back into reality with an almost audibly snap. Quickly, the negative emotions that had been stirring within her very core were ripped from her chest, carving a burning hole on it’s way out. However, with the terrible aching came a feeling almost akin to euphoria. It felt as if all the stress from the previous five days had evaporated. Reality popped back into her field of vision, drenching her in sweat and causing her lungs to spasm terribly, leaving her feeling lightheaded and exhausted. The world returned to normal and her blurry vision saw that of Celestia stood before her, helping her gently to her belly, where she lay for the next few minutes. As her body returned to it’s normal state, still troubling with having two breakdowns within five minutes of each other, the mare found herself gripping her aching skull. This felt much worse than the hostile stare down from earlier. “Twilight, are you alright.” The monarch’s voice came distantly, as if spoken down a long hallway. In her head, Twilight could almost hear the distortion. Shaking her head, Twilight heaved slightly, managing to avoid puking all over the cold marble tiles. Instead she just laid there, heaving and holding her stomach tightly. She barely felt the presence of a wing being laid over her back, nor did she see her former mentor gesture at two guards to leave the room. A minute or two passed. The wing lifted, only to be replaced by a thin blanket and a glass of water next to her. Along with the water was a small tablet. A bit more coherent now, Twilight shot a questioning look at the calm faced monarch sitting in front of her. “Drink it, it will help with the headache.” Nodding once, Twilight grasped the cup in her hooves, not trusting her horn to be able to grasp it at the moment. Carefully sliding her hooves around the slick condensation outside of the cup, she popped the tablet in her mouth and greedily swallowed it down, draining the entire glass. “What...what was that?” The lavender mare asked breathlessly, feeling very drained. Wearily, she moved her forelegs under herself and propped herself unsteadily onto her haunches. “You encountered something Twilight, and I pulled what it left on your mind from you.” Celestia gave her a steady look, expression revealing nothing. “I need you to think, tell me everything about what has happened in the past week. Pulled from her? Twilight cringed forcefully at the idea that the Soothsayer had left something ingrained in her mind. Is that what had been making her act so rashly the past few days? But, she hadn’t seen it when the dragons had appeared! Why would she do what she did if not for it? It just didn’t make any sense. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she looked into her former mentor’s patient gaze. Feeling a bit more stable now as the tablet quickly worked away the ache in her skull, Twilight recounted what she could remember. “It started on Monday. The Everfree would occasionally rumble loud enough for us to all hear it in Ponyville. We didn’t really know what to make of it. I gathered the rest of the girls and we explored the outskirts of the forest, looking for anything out of the ordinary.” She felt the uncertainty of that day spring up in her mind. It had been a tense day in Ponyville for all. “What kind of rumbling?” Celestia asked suddenly. Twilight was a bit startled by the presence of anxiety buried in her tone. “Something like what a volcano would make. It was just a low, roaring thunder every few hours.” Twilight explained to the best of her ability. Celestia didn’t respond, but her emotion changed from anxiety to complete lack of any. Slightly unnerved by the rapid change, Twilight continued. “That night we heard screams. They weren't like any I have ever heard, something that only a trapped animal would make. The whole town was in a panic at that.” Twilight sighed. “It was a pretty sleepless night for most of us.” Twilight recalled the next events easily, seeing them as the catalyst to the entire situation they found themselves in now. “The next morning, I went about my day normally for a while. Around noon, the screams started once again and two ponies who lived near the edge of town came running in, yelling about dragons in the Everfree.” Celestia’s expression changed and this time Twilight caught it. Morphing from blankness to understanding for a split second. Suspicious, twilight resumed. “Me and Rainbow Dash investigated and found two dragons outside the Everfree. They were delusional, covered in horrible injuries and were firing purple energy everywhere. It...was strange. Where the energy impacted, the air seemed to warp.” Watching her expression carefully for anything. Her expression didn’t change. However at the mention of the purple energy, her brow furrowed slightly. “They were extremely resistant to my magic, but after awhile they wore themselves down enough for me to sedate them. I know it was out of character, but...I put them down in the dungeon after they had been taken out of the ICU.” Celestia seemed surprised at that and Twilight couldn’t really blame her as it was strange behavior for her. Twilight silent pondered if it was that mark that Celestia had removed that was causing her out of the norm behavior. Perhaps, it wasn’t all that strange to assume that was the case. She would have to ask her later. “I had a short conversation with one of the dragons, a female. She couldn’t remember much...either that or she just didn’t want to tell me much. It was after that when I ran into this...thing near the edge of the Everfree.” She took a shaky breath, the memories of that fateful encounter still very fresh. “What did it look like?” The alabaster monarch leaned forward, giving Twilight a serious look. Feeling slightly nervous, Twilight swallowed hard and finished her recount. “I didn’t get much of a look...I could barely think, it’s like it paralyzed me...I just couldn’t-” Celestia cut off the mare, seeing her growing visibly more distressed. “I understand Twilight.” Celestia sighed. “Follow me, my dear.” Without another word the monarch began pacing down past her throne to a closed door at the back of the room. Twilight was a little caught off guard by the sudden switch up in moods, but jumped to her hooves and followed. Quickly catching up, the mare turned to her former mentor, confused. “Where are we going? I’ve never been past that door before.” Celestia didn’t turn, but smirked a bit behind her mask of professionalism. “There was never any interest in such a room, but it has always been locked.” Leaning down, Celestia whispered in the shorter mare’s ear. “It leads to the Vault of the Dark Arts.” Twilight stopped, freezing in place. Celestia didn’t stop, even as Twilight gaped at her. She reached the door and quickly flashed her horn brightly. The door clicked quietly once and slid open without a sound. The pale Alicorn turned back to her companion, flashing a small smile at the dumbfounded look on the other Alicorn’s face. Nodding dumbly, Twilight shakily stepped forward, entering the dark doorway, and spoke without turning around. “Why would you have...the most dangerous artifacts known to Ponykind locked in a room in your throne room?” She still felt rather numb at the new information. She could remember passing that door numerous times as a child and never thinking anything about the ordinary looking door. “That is the place it would be least expected.” She smirked as the lavender mare lit up. “Yes, the saying is true. Hide in plain sight and all that.” Nodding in agreement, Twilight gazed in wonder at the dark hallway, surrounded on all sides by normal looking bookshelves. It wasn’t very hard for her to assume that within those normal looking books were some of the most dangerous spells and magical theories known. As they walked, Twilight felt the place’s dark atmosphere begin to get into her head. This was a place filled with absolutely evil energy and she hated being near it. It seemed that Celestia could feel her nerves. “Hold strong, we are almost there.” Twilight did her best, suppressing the shudders running across her spine. The torches along the points in the stone wall not covered in massive bookshelves didn’t provide much light, the oppressive darkness consuming most of the light. Despite her best efforts, the shadows tracing her form felt nearly ice cold and the shivers running across her form only escalated, bring forth a feeling of helplessness. She was beginning to feel her confidence drain when a spark of her old fire broke through the ice. Surprisingly, the fire was anger. She felt the fury at herself for being so easy to manipulate. It would not happen again, she thought firmly to herself, never again. She wouldn’t endanger her friends because of her own recklessness. The fear was still there, but it paled in comparison to her determination. She would not fail again. * Dash didn’t know what happened. Her head was ringing loudly, a dull ache coursing through her wings as she lay on her back. The sky didn’t look right, colored nearly blood red, seeming to pulsate with purple and black lines crisscrossing randomly. The pegasus could feel a strange dull throb in her veins, the blood held within them running slowly and painfully into the rest of her body. Her entire system was running on low power at the time, continually flooding her body slowly with adrenaline. Her eyes were unfocused, staring into the hellish skyline blankly as the world spun around her. The mind normally so sharp and quick was moving through molasses, unable to make out the noises and sights flooding her sense like a river. Her heart pounded in her chest loud enough for it to drown out the horrifyingly powerful roar splitting the evening. Something wet was running down the side of her muzzle, a cold drip staining her fur a deep red. Her head hurt, the present burn along the side of it splitting her already feeble concentration more. Eyes rolling, she attempted to establish movement in her limbs. It felt like her muscles were rippling more than moving, but she persevered as best she could. Scraping fur along dirt, she maneuvered herself onto her stomach, letting out a weak groan. Her wings twitched, the limbs attempting to unfurl reflexively, but finding that they could only move so much. She couldn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears, but she groaned tiredly, the exclamation coming out forced and weak. What had happened, her mind wasn’t able to piece together the event that led her to this. It was all a blur. She had been flying overhead, circling the forest after the dragons had been taken down. Yes that was right, what next. She couldn’t remember much else after that, most of it being obscured by some haze clouding her memory heavily. Thinking hard only gave her a worse headache and she ceased that train of thought before it could press her head more. Blinking her eyes wearily, the drowsy pegasus lifted a hoof and rubbed at her red orbs. It helped get the dirt from clogging her tear ducts, but didn't quite fix the horrible blurriness engulfing her sight. She could barely make out the colors red and purple, with the purple swirling and licking around like the flames of a candle. She wasn’t sure why the sky was bloody though, it didn’t quite click in her head that the sky shouldn’t be that particular color. Confused, she rocked her head to the side, pressing her arms under herself to get moving. Amidst her struggle, a peculiar burning was making itself more and more known under her stomach. Wincing at the pain, the pegasus brought her hoof to the cut under her barrel, retracting the red stained hoof and pressing it into the ground. A minute or two passed and her body started to recover a bit. As her hearing began to return to normal, she made out a distinct roar permeating the air, occasionally accented by a terrifying crash of trees and branches. Unsettled, the mare willed her blurry vision to focus, but it wasn’t willing to cooperate just yet. Not willing to just give up yet, the mare wheezed, propping her body under herself as best as her state would allow, her wings flapping uselessly on her back, gaining no traction in the saturated airspace surrounding her limp form. Gritting her teeth, Dash bit back a curse. The ground shook suddenly, shaking her to earth once more, and with a fear mixed with anger, Rainbow pushed her weak form back hard. Scrambling away from the sudden heat and mind numbing pressure exerted on her so suddenly. Hacking gunk from her throat, Rainbow clawed her way across the ripped up grass and shredded rocks. The rough nature of the stones aggravated her newly gained wounds, but she pushed it back as much as possible. With the new distance, she felt the pressure and heat subside a bit. Feeling more confident, the mare turned back towards the source of the heat. Eyes adjusting finally, Rainbow gaped at what she saw, feeling an unnatural mix of emotions strike her, coursing around her like a storm. Floating several feet above the ground, the purple dragon was there, except he wasn’t purple anymore. Engulfed in a cloak of billowing midnight shadows and wisps of lilac mist, his head was pointed directly into the sky. Surrounding him was a bubble of the same lilac energy wafting off his pitch black form. The normally bright orange and yellow wings and horns were painted a bloody red. His chest plates and membranes, usually a striking gold had been reduced to a muddy brown, looking nearly black in some places. Then there were his eyes, they nearly made her sick. Within those glowing, pupil-less eyes she saw the very definition of anger, of despair, of evil. Ripping her eyes away from him, Dash pointed her gaze towards the sky, eyes wide and shocked. Changed from the dark orange of the sunset, the sky had been painted a bloody red, criss crossing arcs of purple lightning zigzagging across the sky for miles. Alarmed, the pegasus mare scrambled to her hooves, grunting at the pressure it put on her weakened limbs. Her eyes scanned the rest of her surroundings, breathing heavily. Around the dark dragon were the stone statues of a number of the Ponyville guard, all caught in expressions of panic and frantic fear. She noticed that the land directly under where the dragon was hovering had been completely melted, turned to ash and fire. Scattered around such as she was, were the remnant of her own personal team, each struggling to get up, looking very much dazed and afraid. For once in her life, Rainbow Dash was entirely unsure of what to do. She didn’t have an on the fly plan as she normally did. Thinking things through wasn’t her style, it took too much time, but now she just wasn’t sure what to do. Head swinging, she caught sight of Ponyville, a fair distance down the road, a good twenty minute walk. She didn’t have twenty minutes, not with that dragon going ballistic in front of her. There was no way she could fly in this either, she’d be sheared in half by the force of those strange pulses. Her one hope is that Twilight got here soon with back up, if not, they might not last twenty minutes. Her train of thought was cut off as the rage filled dragon released another dark howl, the bubble around him swirling and warping. The sound of a kettle bursting filled the air as the contortions grew ever stronger, and all Dash could do was wait. When the pitch of the noise began to hurt her ears and the flashing of the barrier hit a fever pitch, it stopped, everything going completely silent. Then not a moment later, a monstrous crash burst through the silence and a wave of force pushed her on her back, the powerful shock wave throwing her a few feet back through the air. Landing a bit more gracefully than she expected, the chromatic mare rolled to her hooves, lifting her head alertly. The front portion of the Everfree was gone, reduced to cinders and purple flames. She gaped. What was this? What could do something like this? He wasn’t done it seemed. Rearing his head back inside his bubble, the black dragon threw his wings out in front of him towards the forest, sending condensed shock waves of Convexity directly at the woods. They didn’t have a chance against the otherworldly energy. Everything standing in it’s path was destroyed, gone in seconds, replaced only by fire. The howling of the wind grew ever stronger and the pegasus found herself fearing for everything around her. Dash knew she was headstrong, but even she had the competence to know that this was far from something she could handle alone. The ever present pulses of energy prevented her from even getting close, it felt like her bones were being shaken to pieces just from being a few more feet forward. They needed a miracle now, something that could contain this beast before he destroyed everything, including that damned forest. She didn't’ care as much about the Everfree itself, but Fluttershy lived only a few miles down the edge of the forest. She would die if they didn’t stop this. That thought spurred her forward, giving her a sudden burst of frantic purpose. Forcing herself up on shaking limbs, Dash moved to the nearest of her team, who at the moment was having much more trouble than she was getting to her hooves. Limping on her tired and sore limbs as best as she could make them, Dash got to her teammate’s side. She didn’t say anything, merely grabbing him and helping him up as best she could. The pounding pressure of the pulses combined with the howling wind and resonating roars of rage made hearing anything else nearly impossible. Pointing to another pegasus nearby, she made a motion with her hoof in a circle, hoping he understood what she was telling him. He nodded once after a second of confusion and her limped off. Not bothering to watch him go, the mare moved the opposite direction, galloping over to where the other two of her recruits had already gathered, huddled under a tree that was bent virtually ninety degrees straight back. They looked terrified, watching the dragon behind her with wide, horrified eyes. Not even noticing her approach, they huddled, transfixed on the sight of the Everfree being annihilated before them. It wasn’t until Dash grabbed their faces and moved them into her field of vision did they take heed of their captain in front of them. The noise still prevented any meaningful conversation, but Dash did the best she could to communicate, pointing them towards a tree around a quarter of a mile behind them, the closest tree that seemed to be outside of the radius of the dragon’s effects. Still horribly dazed, they nodded, and got up as best they could. Turning around, she noticed the recruit she had sent out earlier approaching unsteadily with the other pegasus. He didn’t look good. Draped over the standing pegasus by more than half his body, he was covering in gashes and bruises, looking nearly dead. The guard still standing, Skye if she remembered his name correctly, wasn’t looking much better if she was honest with herself. Grabbing the catatonic pegasus from off his back, she rushed him forward, away from the ever increasing shock waves from the dragon. Terrified, he complied without question, rushing away from the carnage wholeheartedly. The unconscious stallion was heavy, enough so that the well set mare was having trouble pressing on too much, her body just struggling to handle the weight in it’s current state. It seemed that luck was on their side however, as right as they escaped the area, the dragon built up a frenzy of energy more powerful than the two previous. Even from the relatively long distance, Dash felt the pull on her body, the taste of metal in the air, and the sting as the electric energy jostled her eyes. She could hear the kettle start to break. Frantic, she rushed herself and Skye forward, pressing on against the demands of her aching body. The air began to shake, the pull of a monstrously powerful wave beginning to truly make itself known. Her breath heaved in her chest, lungs not knowing how to deal with the enormous amount of magical energy being pulled and simultaneous being pumped into the air. Skye was bearing far worse than she was, not having been exposed to constant magical energy in the way Dash had from the Elements. His limbs flailed at the ground, the motor control in his body struggling immensely to cope with the rush of energy flooring him. Dash pulled had on his arm, trying to keep him from falling with all her might. The charge built, the metallic taste grew heavier. Her body started to shake, but not on it’s own, it began to shake from the immense waves growing in the air every second. Eyes wide, Dash grit her teeth and pushed with everything she had, moving her body faster and harder than she ever had before. As the kettle burst and the world grew silent, she threw herself and her party into a ditch dug up by tree roots, pressing herself and Skye underneath the tree. The silence lasted around three seconds, and in that time Dash felt the entire world stand still. Everything on the planet was about to feel this in some way, be it little or small. Every part of the world around her warped and contorted, her vision fleeting to black for a small moment. The world exploded. The force of the sound blew her eardrums out instantly, the shock and pressure rupturing blood vessels in her eyes and turning her whites red. The tree above them was blown completely away and she felt her body nearly shake itself to pieces in the process. The entirety of the grass around them melted from the heat, and she even felt her fur singed in places. The sky was thrown into chaos, the clouds set previously that day were vaporized, the very fabric of the heavens above shook and moved with the force of the release and everything for miles would be stricken in some way sick. The dragon’s complete overload of power sent a wave of purple along the sky for tens of miles in every direction. Rainbow meanwhile felt the after effects for a few minutes, just huddled under the burnt out husk, catching her breath. Even her, with all her exposure to strong magic in the past had no idea how to deal with what was happening to her. Her systems weren’t quite working right, experiencing the worst magical overdose in her life. Skye was faring much worse, the pegasus nearly dead on the ground beside her. He shook slightly in his sleep, tremors running over his body. Far up ahead was the tree line she had told the others to run to. It was nearly empty, the shock wave having destroyed nearly the entire line. Her vision picked out two figures moving unsteadily at the top of the hill directly behind it and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were alive, that was a stroke of good luck. Every second that passed felt like the ants crawling under her skin were multiplying, contaminating her blood with corrosion. She had to move, she needed to shake of this ache and get her body readjusted. Finding it much more difficult than she expected, the pegasus pushed herself upright, carefully moving the stallion she had been carrying to the ground. Taking one last look at her charges, she decided the best thing she could do was move and find help, the mare grasped the lip of the hill and painstakingly pulled herself up and over it. What greeted her was nothing short of a vision of hell. For miles in every direction, the grass had been striped from the fields, the dirt ripped up in huge mounds everywhere, and trees burned to ashes. In the distance she could make out the view of Ponyville, completely untouched. She was sure they had felt it and were panicking frantically, but the mare could rest easy knowing her home was safe. She couldn’t see where the dragon had been hovering, only the burning remains of the Everfree, the ancient forest nearly in ruins. She was shocked to say the least. What power was this? Her heart ached painfully as she recalled that Zecora lived inside where that forest once stood. Her head drooped and she sighed, her heart aching at the apparent loss of a friend. Hoping against hope that the Zebra hadn’t been present at the time, Dash resumed walking, catching the whiff of burning wood and melting metal. The closer she got, the harder it was to move. The latent magical overdose made her more nauseous as she approached the one who had caused it. Maneuvering past the heavily burning purple flames, Rainbow grew more and more sick as she approached. Her stomach heaved with every step, but she pressed on. She knew that she needed to find him. To make sure he wasn’t a threat. If the strength of that wave was to go by, the dragon wouldn’t be even able to move after such an enormous release of power. An enormous crater came into view, right of the edge of the ashes and cinders of the Everfree. Barely able to move without vomiting, the mare nearly slipped off the lip of the crater. It was deep, maybe twenty feet at the bottom. Standing in the middle of the crater, surrounded by flames of purple and ashes stained with tinges of crimson, was the dragon. He spotted her, and Dash felt her body lock up. His body was no longer swathed in shadows, scales returned to the normal purple, although they looked heavily faded. Inside his eyes, Dash saw an intensity of emotion she had rarely seen in her life. Resignation. He spread his wings and jumped into the air, shooting out of the crater. Hovering for a second, he observed the destruction he had caused. Dash felt too weak to fight back, but she stood silently, eyeing him with heavy suspicion. She jumped back as the larger dragon landed in front of her. His body sagged, though she got the feeling it was not from his unnatural burst of power. He stood a good head and a half taller than her, and at least a foot longer. His wings crumpled beside him, and he turned his expression down to hers, eyes displaying a sorrow she hadn’t see in many creatures before. The stare lasted for nearly a moment. Rainbow had always considered herself a good judge of character. She would know from the start whether or not she would like someone as a pony, whether or not they had the heart that she felt was honest and genuine. Loyalty was her namesake, but she wasn’t loyal to those who didn’t deserve her respect. Her friends had all earned it, and she would die for any of them now. However, she couldn’t quite get a grasp on the dragon in front of her. His eyes hid such pain that she felt even her own cold hearted demeanor towards him lift a little. On one hoof she wanted to hate him for what he had done. The death and chaos around her was all a result of him. The legion of dead ponies back at Twilight’s castle was all because of him. Everything inside her screamed that this was an evil creature that would kill her in cold blood if she turned her back. Now all she wanted to do was lock him up for the rest of his days for what he had done. Zecora was most likely dead because of him, Fluttershy would have been if she hadn’t been visiting Rarity’s for the night. The thought of Fluttershy being killed caused a particularly strong wave of heat to burn through her. If this beast had killed her oldest friend, Rainbow didn’t think she would be able to control herself from lashing out. But, despite all of the anger and hate she wanted to feel, the more she looked into his lilac orbs, the more she learned about him. Everything in his expression screamed damaged. She hated giving or receiving pity, but she felt that the dragon in front of her had been through something awful. If not for the scars marring his entire body, and the wounds that crossed his form even now, she would’ve assume he was just a normal dragon. Looking at him now, a small part of her was saying to give him a chance to explain himself and let him perhaps make up for his actions. However that was only a small part, and the major part of her was still massively suspicious of this killer in front of her. Accidentally or not, victim of circumstance or not, he had still caused the death of good ponies. Again, the guilt on his face was enough to make her pause. The pure expression of remorse and sorrow was not something she had expected a dragon to be able to make. The way he looked down at her expressed his emotions quite blatantly. She felt that he was genuine, and she couldn’t help but want to give him a chance. Her mind was torn between the urge to blindly lash out at him and rip him to shreds verbally and physically, the other half of her simply wanted to hear him out. In the end he beat her to speaking. “Do what you will with me.” He lowered his head, body crumbling in front of the pegasus mare, eyes pointed directly into the ground, wet and glistening. That she didn’t expect. Even if his body language had said resignation, she had expected it to be more of the realization that he would have to fight and kill her, but instead he was giving himself up, turning himself into the very things he probably viewed as his enemy. Maybe her judgement of him had been right. For a few moments she found herself unable to speak, just standing there, staring at him with an unsure expression. Her eyes were suspicious still, the natural headstrong aura resonating within, screaming at her that she shouldn’t trust this beast in front of her. But, she also knew she was a very good judge of emotions. “Why did you do it.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. He did it, what did it matter why? If possible, his body drooped even more, the sorrow burning bright on his form. She could see the tears brimming at his eyes and the way his body shook and trembled deeply. She could sense his deep despair, but it didn’t sway her. That small part of her that sympathized him remained just as small as before. “I...it took her from me.” His throat closed up and a choked sob escaped him. It? Rainbow wasn’t quite sure what he meant. However as she looked over his shoulder at the ruins of the forest, she remember what Twilight had freaked out about earlier that day. She had screamed about something in the Everfree. It? That seemed to fit what this dragon was talking about. “What’s your name, huh?” She couldn’t help but be curious, she was going to get as much information out of this as she could. The dragon appeared surprised by the question, raising his head slightly to look into her eyes. “Spyro.” He said simply. Nodding once, she opened her mouth to speak, eyes hard. “Okay, so Spyro then, I guess you’ve killed it then.” Her voice came out accusingly. “I mean, you destroyed everything, so it must be gone right?” Her eyes narrowed, the mare’s typical hard attitude showing though once again. Feeling the smallest hint of remorse at his hurt expression, the mare suppressed it under a wave of righteous anger. He stared at her for a second, jaw moving slightly as if he was contemplating saying something, but his mouth never opened. He turned his head once towards the ashes. He stared for a long while, just gazing into the the ruins of the forest, the very small patches near the far back barely visible. She saw him tense up, muscles pulling taut under his scales, and jawline tightening tightly. “No, I think we’re just getting started.” * The heavy flapping of feathered wings over the burn and bruised back half of the Everfree was the only sound on this day. A pair of sharp eyes watched the destruction warily, yellow orbs roaming over the burnt forest with remarkable accuracy. His question wasn’t one that he felt he would get an answer to any time soon. Sharp claws, a pointed beak and a mix of feline and avian, the griffon flew over the darkened forest, only bits of ground illuminated by the burning purple trees. The peculiar flames caught his eye in particular. What the hell had caused this? He and his family had been living in Equestria for some time around this forest, the ponies had called it the Everfree from what he had heard from his daughter. From what she had told him, they generally stayed away from it, fearing it to be cursed. How silly. Regardless of their fear of the forest, they didn’t strike him as the type to burn an entire forest to the ground just because they were scared of it. So, what happened here then? Perhaps that strange explosion that had awoken them earlier was the culprit. Whatever the reason, he found it rather strange, and a bit unfortunate too. This had been a prominent hunting ground. The danger of the forest was exhilarating, and had been an excellent place to train his sons and daughter to hunt and fend for themselves. He sighed. Alas, it is gone now, nothing to be done. He had to admit, the lilac flames were actually quite mesmerizing to look at, especially in the low light where they glowed and licked at the night in such a beautiful way. He grumbled to himself about the loss of his favorite hunting place. He was ready to continue on his way, when the flames licked over to a specific place, lighting a reflection upon something he had failed to notice earlier. His sharp eyes caught the nearly unnoticeable disturbance. Curious, the griffon angled himself down toward the object. Wind whistling in his ears as he dove, the griffon touched down gracefully on the ground. The ground felt different. Raising a claw, he found the limb covered in ashes. Grimacing at the distasteful substance, he shook the claw dispelling some of the flaky stuff. Stepping slowly and carefully around the still burning fires, he surveyed the dark patch of trees still standing amongst the enormous fires. These trees seemed different. They were darker, more ominous than he remembered them being. Feeling slightly uneasy for some reason. Taking a deep breath, he shook off the fear, reasoning as just the odd situation getting to him. His quarry in sight, he froze once he got closer. Bringing a claw to his beak, he clamped his mouth shut, hoping to keep from vomiting from the sight. Releasing the claw shakily, he placed it back onto the ground as he got closer. “Sweet mother of…” He whispered, grimacing at the horrible sight in front of him, feeling bile rise in his throat. His sensitive nose caught the heavy stench of blood and gore, the horrible smell wafting into his nose. In front of him was a black dragon. The body was limp, covered in enormous lacerations, the blood soaked scales around them painted a dull crimson. Interestingly enough, the wounds were mostly clotted, but from what he could not say, if was as much of a mystery as the forest. However, large chunks of her flesh around her back and under her abdomen were torn out, letting pus and blood flow from the large avulsions, exposing the delicate organs inside and the partially damaged spine protruding from her back. Pressing his head to her belly, he was relieved to hear a heartbeat, even if it was weak and unsteady. He noticed the horrible state of the breaks in her wings, the joints of the thin appendages snapped at strange angles and the occasional hint of white showing between the bloodied parts of her black scales. The skin between the phalanges ripped and bleeding in numerous places. The top phalange was bent and snapped in a very bad way, pointed awkwardly. The griffon cringed, knowing that if she even lived through her injuries there was virtually no way she would ever fly again. His mate was a very experienced healer, but even she had her limits. Upon closer inspection of the wings, one of the them had an extremely bad fracture near the metacarpus. The griffon was thankful that the dragon was out cold, as he didn’t want to even think about the pain that wound would cause. The rest of her body was bloodied and bruised, but again, these wounds had been clotted by something, but he couldn’t think of what it would be. He had dealings with dragons in the past, he knew they healed fast, but this had to have happened very recently and there was no way wounds this big would clot in mere hours. Carefully propping her body on it’s side, he inspected the rest of her form. One of her forelegs was broken badly along the knee, while both of her hind legs looked to be sprained at least. Feeling them gently told him that they were at least very swollen. In reality he didn't really know what he was doing. His mate was the healer, not him. Realizing that he was wasting precious time, the griffon quickly contemplated. Dragons were known to be greedy, selfish, dangerous creatures, however he wasn’t so cold hearted as to leave this one to die out here based on generalization. Equestrian ideals appeared to have slightly rubbed off on him. He mused that he had his daughter to thank for that. Cautiously, the griffon lifted the smaller dragon by the front, pushing her onto his back. He was surprised by her weight, but he knew he wouldn’t have to carry her very far. Springing into the air, the griffon flapped his wings hard, pushing himself into the night sky, the bloodied dragoness on his back, unaware of the fateful decision he just made will shake the world he knows to it’s core.. > 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….             > Strength Through Wounding > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Up close like this, Twilight got a true sense of just how different Spyro was  from the dragons she was familiar with. Other than not being bipedal like the majority of the dragons found on Equis, his scales looked smoother, his body less bulky and more streamlined.   However the most defined difference from the dragons she had was the expression in his lilac irises. It somewhat reminded her of the look she had seen in Griffons who had fought in war, a hollow, guarded look that spoke more of the horror of combat.   Something in the eyes of the dragon in front of her spoke volumes. She had expected the normal greedy, uncaring eyes of the majority of dragons that inhabited the land, but this was different. It matched the emotion of his companion, the dragoness she had first spoken to.   That female was still MIA, but perhaps she would get some answers to all the confusion that had plagued the last week from the dragon in front of her. Her inner scholar got rather giddy at the thought of getting some of her questions answered. If he was extra dimensional, think of all the information she could get!   Something about his stance told her he wasn’t going to skirt around questions like Cynder had, and she found herself being filled with a childish sort of fascination at the idea of talking with someone from a different world.   Unbeknownst to her, a near maniacal expression had taken hold of her muzzle as her mind whirled at the possibilities of what she may uncover. Just the thought of getting to the bottom of that strange magic he possessed was enough to make her lightheaded.   It seemed the mare had forgotten the previous crimes that the dragon in front of her was guilty of, at least for the moment. Her analytical side pushing out the fact that he had, even if he wasn’t quite in control of himself at the time, wiped out several guardsponies after he had been knocked from the sky.   Instead, he shied away from her near crazed expression, leaning away from her as Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes with a snort, bringing a hoof to her face in blatant annoyance. It wasn’t that shocking however that the lavender mare was getting like this, not like it hadn’t happened before anyway.   Shaking herself from her stupor, Twilight finally seemed to notice that she had unwittingly made her guest rather unsure. She cleared her throat, wiping at her chest with a hoof idly. Pushing away the weird expression from her muzzle, Twilight extended a friendly smile, turning halfway and motioning at an empty chair next to Rainbow Dash.   Laughing somewhat nervously, Twilight felt her heart race slightly as Spyro’s face morphed into one of profound embarrassment and remorse.   In all honesty Twilight wasn’t sure what to expect when she had returned to Ponyville. The endless searching in the Vault of the Dark Arts hadn’t returned much findings, but Celestia had assured her that the search would continue.   The purple mare had been unsure in telling her friends of what she had been looking for in that evil place. Secrecy was the key and so she refrained from saying much of anything. She felt terrible while down there, the knowledge that the books she had been reading contained some of the most malevolent spells both known and unknown was enough to put a sour taste in her mouth.   Thankfully the search had been discontinued when that vibration of twisted energy had ripped through Canterlot. It had nearly knocked her off her hooves, however the brief warning she had gotten from the whiff of metal melting had been enough for her to cast a bubble around the city in panic.   She wasn’t quite sure how she had done it, if she was to be completely truthful. Her body had acted on it’s own, horn nearly breaking from the enormous and sudden draw of magic from her core and spiraling into the air over and under the city. The shield had barely held against the wave.   A city full of unicorns, Canterlot was, the damage to the populace would’ve been...bad to say the least. Thankfully, she would later find out, the limited number of unicorns in Ponyville had prevented the town from being very damaged.   She felt remorse at having been so late to return, but her body hadn't been able to cope very well with the astronomical energy draw and had collapsed on the spot. She didn’t recover as quickly as she would have liked.   Grateful that she found the town unscathed, if a bit perturbed upon her return, the mare was shocked at the devastation to the outlying areas. The damage to the Everfree being the key among them, the forest had been pushed back at least a mile, ravenous purple fires still burning like oil lamps amidst the sunset.   At first she was a bit unsure of what to think of the fact that the dragon that was responsible for the destruction had just given himself in. Dash had given her assurance that the dragon was far from a threat. Although skeptical, Twilight trusted in her normally Devil-may-care friend, given how oddly serious she was.   Now that she was stood in front of him, she could see just why her friend had spoken of the dragon in that manner. He had a resigned look she hadn’t seen very often. However, something else burned in those lilac irises, something with an intensity that caused her to take a step back.   Cold, tempered, despaired rage. A mix of emotions not normally put together, she could see the determination for this purpose burning like a fire in his lavender eyes, a need that outweighed any other.   He bowed, unsteadily, looking a little out of place. The situation looked quite odd, the heavily battle scarred dragon bowing in a look of fear to the smaller pony. Twilight, not having expected this reaction, paused, a hoof raised in the air unconfidently. She cast a look behind her at the five equally confused ponies seated. They just gave her confused shrugs.     Turning back around, she moved one step forward. Seemingly breaking from his stupor, the dragon spoke out, a tone of remorse coloring his gentle voice.   “My apologies for the intrusion, it was not my intent to harm your land.” He bowed his head further down, closing his eyes. The polite, refined speech didn’t quite suit him, neither did the submissive tone to his voice.   Twilight was very confused. THIS was not the reaction she had expected. Dragons were incredibly prideful, to them bowing to a pony was almost unthinkable. Twilight then had to remind herself that this wasn’t going to be a dragon she was familiar with.   “You don’t have to bow, I just want to ask you a few things.” She stepped forward nudging one of his shoulders with a hoof. He opened his eyes, and lifted his head. “Take a seat, breakfast will be coming up soon.” She tossed her head back towards the empty seat.   His eyes gazed past her, catching on something for a brief moment before returning to her. Nodding once, he returned to his normal height, gazing at her expectantly. Blinking once, still a little whizzed out from the short interaction, Twilight turned trotting back to her seat.   Hearing the soft clicking of claws on stone following loosely behind her, she hopped back into her seat, the room nearly silent. Moving behind the tall chair, he pushed it closer to the table. Tall enough to climb into the seat without much issue, he struggled for a moment, not quite sure how to position his long tail in the slightly too small chair.   After a few seconds of shifting around, the dragon finally got comfortable, laying his paw flat against the table and leaning back into the chair. For a moment he simply cast his eyes about the spacious room, lilac orbs twinkling in slight wonder at the extravagant surroundings.   Taking note of the scarring along his scales, Twilight felt a twinge of sympathy build in her gut, some of them looked rather nasty. His forearms in particular looked especially mangled, extensively ripped tissue lining his arms.   The thought of how some of those must have felt at the time of infliction was enough to make her stomach curl. He seemed oblivious of her discomfort, eyes still gazing at the surroundings in a new light. What could he have seen for such an effect to be made on him by her rather simple castle?   “So, what did you need of me Ma’am?” His voice broke her of her trance. Blinking, the lavender mare shook her head once, dispelling the distressing emotions and reached into her saddlebags and withdrawing a simple piece of parchment, her horn illuminated in light.   “Well, I’ll be as frank as possible Spyro, we need to make sure you will not harm us in the long run.” She cleared her throat, straightening her posture and giving him an empathetic look. She stopped when she saw the awestruck stare he was giving her, jaw dropped.   While he was doing this, she made note of the razor sharp teeth inside his muzzle, the fangs pronounced against his strong jawline. She had dealt with predators before, however the dragons of equis typically had teeth more suited to grinding and crushing gems, strong molars and flat front teeth.   She could see that what she was talking to was a full fledged carnivore, for those teeth were designed to tear and shred meat, rather than smash gems and rip through stone. Her equine instincts made her feel a little nervous in the presence of a physically more imposing predator, but she shook it off, knowing it was wrong to judge him based on something so menial.   “How...how are you doing that?” He seemed a bit put off by the use of her simple telekinesis, looking as if she had murdered somepony. Blinking, the mare set her equipment on the table in front of her.   “It’s basic magic Spyro, why are you so scared.” A scratchy voice piped up from beside him. The voice coming from an absolutely bored looking Rainbow mare. He turned to her, an incredulous expression crossing his muzzle briefly.   “That’s not anything basic.” The flustered dragon spoke, throat sounding rather tight. His claws tapped against the table anxiously, scales on edge.   “It may not be normal where you are from, Spyro.” Twilight voiced strongly, catching his attention. “This is normal unicorn magic, something most of us learn first.”   He didn’t say anything, just eyeing the glowing horn on her head with barely concealed nervous energy. When he said nothing more, Twilight felt fit to continue, wanting nothing more than to get the dragon to relax. She could see the tension underneath his scales, his expression purposefully emotionless.   “Well, just for the records, let's start with the basics.” Twilight dipped her quill into ink, bringing the parchment up to her face. “What’s your name?” Spyro raised a scaly brow casting her a look of surprise.   Across the table, her friends likewise rolled their eyes and looked confused, all except for Pinkie who had disappeared from the table, sneaking into a room far to the right. This was unnoticed by all in the room.   “Spyro, Purple Dragon of the 33rd Generation.” Scribbling the information down quickly, the mare latched onto a particular part of the sentence that stood out.   “Why is the purple so special?” He regarded her with a look of minor surprise, before the realization of the oddity of the scenario crossed his features, giving him a frown.   “I guess if the whole ‘not from around here thing’ is true, it’s not shocking you haven't heard.” He sighed, straightening up and twisting his neck, a series of pops accompanying it. Across the table Rarity cringed forcefully at the sound. “Well, where I’m from, my kind are not born very often, once in ten generations.”   “Yeah, and what’s so special about being purple?” Rainbow questioned from beside him, sounding rather world-weary. For some reason Twilight felt a little miffed at that comment, muzzle scrunching up.   “Spike is purple, and while he is sweet, he hasn’t displayed anything unnatural.” Rarity chipped in from across the table, filling her hooves while looking rather bored with the conversation as it was.   “Well...um...purple isn’t very uncommon for dragons.” Fluttershy responded quietly, looking surprisingly unafraid of the battle scarred dragon sitting across the table as he gazed intently at her.   “Yes, well that is just another one of those differences between worlds, I suppose.” He brought a claw to his chin, scratching at the scales underneath. “What element does he control?”   The ponies looked at him, confused. Gazes wandering between each other, the six mare just shrugged, unsure of how to answer the strange question. Twilight was the first to vocalize the question moving around the room.   “What do you mean by elements?” She gestured with a hoof at the air. He blinked once, then again, more than a little surprised at their ignorance. A moment later he sighed, nodding his head in understanding.   “Dragons, at least where I’m from, have control over one of the five base elements.” He shuffled for a second, avoiding looking at Twilight’s stunned expression. “Purple dragons are unique in that we are blessed with immense elemental capabilities, namely that we can control all of them.”   Eyes twinkling, Twilight scribbled down her notes quickly, nose buried in the parchment. Dipping her quill into the inkwell in rapid strokes, the lavender mare filled the air with the sound of rapid pen strokes.   “When you say ‘control’, what exactly do you mean by that?” She questioned, wonder in her voice. This was far more fascinating than she had expected. Dragons capable of elemental magic. That kind of magic was incredibly difficult for unicorns to wield, the volatile magical properties restricting it mostly to Alicorns.   In general, as the elements relied on the latent lines of magic flowing within the earth, the energy could backfire rather explosively, the results extending further depending on how deep into the spell the user was.   Twilight had heard cases while researching the magic a year or two back. The stories hadn’t been pretty, detailing that chronic magical exhaustion was the least severe of the ramifications. Some had lost the ability to perform magic all together, or had suffered long term physical damage.   However if these dragons could perform the magic from birth, then the amount she could learn was extraordinary. If ponies could use elemental magic as easily as telekinesis, well that would change everything.   “Well, the basics extend merely to breaths. The first thing a young dragon is to learn about their element is how to project it from the core. A dragon’s element lies deep within themselves, and it is their first duty to unearth it.” He coughed, a short burst of flame escaping his maw. While Twilight was impressed with the implications, she along with her friends had seen dragons breathe fire before so it wasn’t much of a shock.   “If that is the basics, then what comes after?” Twilight was intrigued, very intrigued. The dragon smiled at her questions, bringing a paw up, clenching his talons.   “Breath attacks are simple, a manifestation of the main way of projecting in element in it’s simplest form.” He flexed his talons. “However, to truly understand an element, a dragon must learn how to use their whole body as a means of projection.” As he finished saying this, his claws caught aflame, soft orange light licking the air.   He clenched his talons tightly, now solid red flames escaping between the cracks of his clenched paw. His eyes flashed a deep red for a moment, the color blending into his lilac irises. A moment later, he opened his talons, the palm of his paw burning a bright red. Coughing, he shook his paw, the flames fading away, dim orange cinders floating through the air.   “Okay, that’s pretty dope.” Rainbow piped in from beside him, a renewed interest in her eyes. Spyro chuckled, shaking his head. Twilight found herself curious of something, wondering if the similarities between the elemental magic displayed by the dragons was shared in another way.   “Where do you draw on for this?” He looked a little bit confused by the question. She cleared her throat. “Like, does it get tiring to use your elements, or is it something that you simply can use in limited amounts?” His eyes lit up a bit and he nodded.   “Ah, I see what you mean. Elements are sort of like a muscle, the more you use it, the less tiring it gets to draw upon it and the longer it can be used for. It’s not so much like a bar that you deplete, but more of muscle that you flex to expend.”   Twilight was ecstatic at his reply and furiously scribbled down the notes. The way he had described how draconic magic worked perfectly mirrored the way unicorn magic worked. Connections like this were important for developing a bridge. She would need samples of his elements at work, but the fact that they worked in a rather similar fashion was more than she could have hoped for.   “Hmm, what else can you control then?” Rainbow asked, an amused glint in her eye, one that Twilight didn’t quite like. Spyro reared back slightly, looking a bit caught off guard.   “Ah, I guess I should have expected that.” He smirked a bit, giving the pegasus a glance. He coughed once, a flurry of ice particles flowing from his muzzle, the temperature in the room dropping a few degrees as a result. “There’s ice, a far more utility based element. While the heat of fire is often enough to deal with opponents, Ice is a solid and as such offers much more utility to an arsenal.”   Twilight’s eyes widened, the flowing ice crystals sparkling in front of the purple dragon, a few snowflakes resting on his outstretched claws. He regarded the crystals resting on his claws for a moment, before he shook the paw absentmindedly.   “I first discovered fire, but there is something beautiful about ice, something that always inspired me to learn and experiment with.” He sighed, clenching his talons together and unfurling them, a slim glove of ice engulfing his paws.   Twilight saw him smirk, the grin not easy to see. Quickly turning, the dragon brought one of his ice covered paws to the side of the cyan pegasus right beside him. Expectedly, she let out an undignified squeal and jumped away, nearly falling off the chair.   Spyro nearly bust a gut laughing, the dragon finding tears coming to his eyes. Rainbow breathed deeply as she righted herself, a look of righteous fury on her muzzle as she regarded the dragon with murderous eyes.   “Why you little-” She nearly launched herself out of her seat, but a familiar presence grabbed her by the scruff pulling her back. The scene was one that had been repeated many times, Rainbow getting a bit headstrong and attacking with Applejack yanking her back, being the more sensible of the two.   “Calm it down there Dash, not really the best move.” The farm mare rolled her eyes, casting a blank look at the culprit. He merely smiled, shaking his head. The ice melted off his paws, slight wisps of steam rising off the heated talons.   “I’m sorry Rainbow Dash, I just couldn’t resist.” He smirked behind a paw, chuckling lightly to himself. Said mare just gave him a hot tempered glare, but didn’t give him a response other than a snort. He simply laughed again, scratching at his armored belly plates.   Twilight wanted to reprimand him, but when she saw the look of genuine happiness on his face, one that had previously been crossed by depression and muted sorrow, she held her tongue and decided to just continue with her information hunt.   “You mentioned five, so what are the other three?”   “Well, I was never quite able to get a grasp on wind, it always evaded me. However on a similar note, electricity is another I control.”   “Electricity?” Twilight was a bit surprised to hear that, electricity was an extremely trick form of magic, something that wasn’t commonly applicable in unicorn and alicorn magic theory. Another scribble on the note for that.   “Mhm.” He nodded, closing his eyes for a second and going stiff, he clenched his talons. A low rumble built in his throat and Twilight felt her fur stand on end. Her ears began to ring slightly and she narrowed her eyes a little distrustfully at the dragon. Just as she was about to speak up, it happened.   His horns and claws sparked, lightning sizzling along the edges of each. The collective eyes of everyone currently in the room widened. Rainbow, unbeknownst to the other back away from him a little, uncertainty in her eyes.   “Uh...is that….safe?” Twilight asked slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the dangerous arcs of electricity. The dragon nodded once, a smirk on his face showing his amusement to their reactions.   “Of course, it’s perfectly regulated.” He brought a paw close to his face, watching the electricity dance along between his claw tips. “Electricity was tough to understand at first, unlike the staticness of ice and the liquidity of fire, electricity is completely random. It has a speed and agility that the other elements don’t possess.”   He flexed the talons widely, the lightning arcing further between his claws. Clenching his wrist, the arcs sped up, a loud hum filling the room. Rainbow leaned over, moving her hoof closer to his paw. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, nudging the lightning encased limb closer to her.   She flinched for a second, but he gave a gaze that seemed to be reassuring. Swallowing, the mare refused to show her fear and touched her hoof to his paw. Instead of being electrocuted brutally, the thousands of volts simply fizzled around the fur on her hoof, setting the hairs on end.   “The reason this doesn’t kill you is that I’m manipulating the current to flow around you, instead of through you. It takes a bit of practice, but it’s harmless when done properly.” Spyro explained, concentrating on keeping the arcing current around her hoof, not directly on it.   She retracted her hoof a moment later. “Huh. That’s actually kinda cool. Feels like flying in a thunderstorm.” She wiggled her hoof a bit, scrunching up her muzzle at the odd sensations running through it. It felt like TV static personified.   Shaking the paw and nodding his head, Spyro dispelled the static electricity from his horns and cut the current from flowing around his talons. Clearing his throat, he turned to Twilight, giving her a soft smile.   “Last, but not least….” He closed his eyes, resting his paws on the table, letting his head fall. Applejack was the first to notice the change. As an earth pony, she was much more connected to the ground on a primal level, and something was happening. In her bones, she could feel the earth churn beneath her hooves.   Her eyes found the floor, and though nothing was moving along the surface she could feel crevices clambering beneath the ground under her. Casting her eyes frantically back up to the purple dragon, she could see a certain glow about his scales. In between the plates that lined his breast, she could make out a faint green glow.   Twilight seemed to have finally noticed the change, her eyes wide as her horn flickered in shock. She swallowed hard, scribbling down notes.   The dragon ceased his flow into the earth, the ground stopping almost instantly. The slightly green aura around Spyro ceased and the room went mostly silent. Mostly as Twilight was furiously scribbling notes down on her parchment.   “Well, that’s nifty.” Was all Applejack could say, finding that particular ability to be more alarming than the previous three. Spyro grunted once, shaking his body a bit. Applejack once again found the ground to be interesting. While connected to the earth, she could no longer feel the crevices like she had before, almost as if they had entirely closed up. She narrowed her eyes.   “Earth, easily the most potentially powerful of the base elements.” Spyro crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “Mother nature isn’t too keen on her rules being broken, it takes many years to get down many of the more advanced tricks to meddling with the earth.”   He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, his eyes finding the scarred, mangled forearm resting on the table. Twilight gave him a sympathetic glance, her lilac orbs eyeing the slight shake to the limb with analytical prestige.   If he was a soldier, which seemed to be the case given his understanding of the elements he controlled, along with the array of marks along his scales and chest plates. Even more so if the death toll left behind in that dungeon was anything to call on.   All in all, she found it hard to be too sympathetic to him. She wanted to get the answers before she jumped the gun, even if said gun was most certainly smoking from Spyro’s end. Major Azure was always prideful in himself, to the point of being arrogant at times. She grimaced, his background report had spoken of a history of violence and bigotry.   She would like to blame the dragon in front of her and simply deify the dead, but she wasn’t able to shake off the feeling that her own kind was at least partially responsible for the mess. Spyro was talking again, she broke from her trance mid sentence.   “...Sometimes it’s use can have long lasting damage…” He trailed off with a sigh, flexing the scarred appendage. Fluttershy dropped the latent fear she had been showing, displaying a concerned interest in the state of the arm.   “How did that happen?” She asked somewhat sternly, relenting and averting her gaze when he returned her gaze intently. “Well...um...if you don't mind me asking?” The dragon’s eyes never left her, his brow furrowing. Closing his eyes, he nodded once.   “Very well, though I do warn you, it’s not a very pleasant story.” He straightened up, bringing his damaged paw closer to himself. “I suppose I should start from the beginning, I hope it will help your notes, ma'am.” Twilight still wasn’t so used to the respectful treatment from a species with so much pride. She kept reminding herself that she wasn’t dealing with any dragon from this realm.   The lavender mare was giddy though, the idea of getting a much more complete history of this new subset of dragons was enough to make her hooves shake. Grabbing an extra sheet of parchment, completely unaware of the wary looks he was casting towards her horn.   Filing her current notes back into the saddlebags resting against her chair, the alicorn stacked several rolls of the grainy paper, getting an extra inkwell. Leveling herself, she nodded once at the dragon, giving him an eager smile. He returned it with a weary one of his own, cracking his neck and talons.   “The real start dates back to way before my hatching, when dragons went to war with the apes, a race of greedy, power hungry simians. Conflicts were apparently numerous between my species and theirs, but it eventually degraded into all out war.”   Twilight was once again shocked at the similarities between the two realms, for in the far reaches of Equis, in the jungles of the south a species dubbed the apes were champions, the governing race of that area. They hadn’t left that region in centuries.   “Eventually, something happened for the dragons, something that wasn’t ever seen before. A purple egg was laid.” A look of distaste crossed the dragons features, seeming if he had just smelled rotten meat. “What came from that egg would be the cause of genocide, the reason behind so much unneeded bloodshed and sorrow.”   The dragon stopped for a moment, a look of seething anger crossing his muzzle. He took a deep breath to compose himself, before clearing his throat and continuing.   “They named him Malefor.” His eyes took on a dark note. “At first, nobody knew what to expect of him, for a dragon of that color had never been seen before, but  he showed his first element, then another, and another….” He trailed off, and Twilight got the point he was attempting to prove.   He was the first of his kind, the type of dragon that sat in front of her right now. Spyro, she got the feeling from the way he spoke of Malefor, was not his successor.   “After he displayed this unnatural ability to master elements, he started to change. Seeing as he was quickly becoming more than a match for his peers and even a threat to some of his elders in combat, he became cocky, arrogant.”   “Well, how did they change ‘im?” Applejack spoke up. Spyro shook his head.   “They didn’t.”   “Oh.”   “From what I was told, eventually during a day of training, one of his peers got tired of his attitude and challenged him to a duel. Apparently at first he held his own pretty well, but it wouldn’t last.” He turned to the chromatic pegasus and sighed. “I feel you may remember this part.”   She perked up. “What?” He didn’t answer, continuing with his tale.   “This was when Malefor changed forever. Secretly he had discovered the power truly deep within us, in purple dragons. Convexity. It's a void element, and the true element of purple dragons. It encompasses both the angelic light and the malice of dark evil.” That word rang around in Dash’s head, the simple word causing a flood of memories to storm into her brain.   Magical overload making her sick. The terrifying roar shattering her senses. Terrible pulses of energy gushing into her flesh, sending rigid shock through her whole body. She had felt it, and it refused to leave so soon.   “I’m not sure if that dragon died, but he was in critical condition at least. However, knowing the effects of Convexity, I wouldn’t be shocked if he had died.” He spoke grimly. Fluttershy looked a little ill at the start of the tale, while the other five mares kept the same grim expression that the purple dragon held.   “What did they do to him?” Twilight asked anxiously, knocking her quill underneath her chin in anticipation.   “I’ve been told they originally tried to reason with, but when it became clear just how far gone he was, they banished him, casting him into eternal exile for his crimes.” Spyro chuckled somewhat darkly. “As you can imagine, he viewed this as extreme disrespect and swore to make them pay for their ‘crimes’.” Spyro wiggled his claws into air quotes.   “Something tells me I won’t like where this is going.” Rainbow sighed, laying her head down on the table. Spyro just grimaced, nodding his head slightly.   “Out in the wilderness, he fully embraced the darker sides of Convexity. I’m not quite sure how he managed it, but he somehow forced the darkness to abide by his demands. As his consciousness was not affected, he retained full control over himself. He called the apes to him, his influence of power grabbing them like a moth to flame, they couldn’t resist his pull.”   “Yeah, I can see where this is going.” Rainbow mumbled. Twilight couldn’t help but agree.   “With his growing army by the day, he dragged his species and pulled them into war, kicking and screaming. As he himself was a dragon and one that had been initially revered, the war began to pollute the reputation of the dragons. More and more died everyday and the world fell into chaos.”   Spyro rubbed the back of his neck, a look of great shame upon his features. Twilight guessed he felt guilty for the acts his race had caused upon their world, but why he himself felt shameful, she wasn’t sure yet.   “It took a long time, and more bodies than could be counted, but the elders of the day forced him back into his lair, a disgusting, twisted place that those of black hearts called home. We call it the Mountain of Malefor, the Well of Souls.”   He shifted a bit in his seat, tapping his claws against the table anxiously. “Well, that just sounds….nice, don’t it.” Applejack deadpanned. He gave her a glance, but otherwise didn’t even acknowledge her words.   He cleared his throat turning his attention to Twilight. “This is important, if we are really from different realities. After pressing on into the Well of Souls, the elders combined their strength and banished Malefor from our realm, sealing his very essence inside in airlock dimension, a place named after himself, Convexity. After this, the elders helped nurture dragonkind and the world back to it’s former state. After this, they would be forever known as the Ancestors.”   “Convexity….” Twilight thought back hard, trying to sort through everything she had read about extra dimensional theories and magics. “Describe it to me.”   “Well, it’s a strange place, reality seems to be twisted and contorted. I’ve been told it acts as an airlock between the realms I come from and those of darker intents. There isn’t much known about it, so that’s really all I can say.” He gave her a slightly downtrodden look, clearly wishing he had more to offer.   “No, that’s alright, I’ll see what I can find.” She smiled at him. “Please, continue.” He nodded, clearing his throat.   “Now, this is where I come in. Even after being sealed away, Malefor communicated with his army, and they still obeyed him. Suffice to say, peace didn’t follow his defeat. Several centuries later, my egg was placed in temple in the swamps of the realms, a supposed safe haven.”   “Why there?”   “Certain ebbs and flows of magical energy builds up in the realms over several centuries, culminating in the highest outburst over a year period. This is known as the Year of the Dragon, and I along with many others was born in it.” He explained, though something still left her confused.   “So, what is so important during this year?”   “Well, as I said, a powerful buildup of energy is present during that year, we dragons, absorb this magic that flows in our world. So….”   “So the dragons born during this period have stronger magical abilities, I see.” Twilight guessed the rest of his statement, putting the pieces together.   “Yes, that’s right. Knowing that this was going to be the tenth generation, and so the prophecies of old had spoke of the birth of another of his kind, Malefor planned ahead. Knowing that only another could truly match his power when his strength recovered, he sent his armies out to the temple. The Guardians, the acting defensive group of that time, were not prepared.”   “Well, I assume they won the fight.” Spyro turned to Dash, who spoke up from beside him. “I mean, you’re right here.”   “No, they didn’t win. All the eggs, but two, were slaughtered. They all died without a chance.” Spyro’s eyes darkened, and his head drooped a bit. The mares all cringed, the idea of babies being butchered making their stomachs curl. Fluttershy had tears in her eyes, the sensitive pegasus not taking the deaths of so many young very lightly.   “Oh my, that’s….terrible.” Fluttershy whimpered. Rarity pulled her closer, comforting the distraught mare as best she could.   “My egg was saved when Ignitus, the guardian of fire, sent my egg floating down a river in a mushroom cap, and I was spared the early death A family of dragonflies happened upon me, and they raised me as their son with their son becoming my brother.” Rainbow perked up.   “You said two eggs survived! So who was the second?” Spyro sighed heavily, a look of sorrow entering his expression.   “I believe you two-” He pointed to Twilight and Dash. “-have already met her. They captured her egg, planning to corrupt her and enslave her as Malefor’s servant. They named her Cynder.”   Twilight felt her gut twist. That’s who she was. The lavender mare had been able to sense something hiding underneath those black scales the second she had laid eyes on her. This was why she was so secretive, this was what made the dragoness so cold. She was a slave.   “She didn’t have a chance like I did, she never deserved what happened to her.” Spyro clenched his talons hard, biting back a growl. “Those monsters corrupted her, twisted her and tortured her...”   His scales flashed a dark shade for a split second and his pupils vanished. Twilight felt dread creep into her gut, settling like a stone. Thankfully, the anger merely morphed into despair. His next words were so quiet, she had to strain to hear them.   “...forced her….” His jaw tightened, and he struggled for a moment to hold onto himself. Just imagining her smiling face, emeralds glistening brightly, was enough to break him of his trance. All at the table heard the last part, their expressions morphing into mixed displays of horror and sympathy.   To his side, Rainbow nudged him. “Keep it together man, nothing you coulda done.” The pegasus gave him a sideways glance, patting his shoulder with a wing. He swallowed hard, not liking where he knew this conversation was gonna steer.   “Sorry, those parts always get to me, thinking about what those brutes did to her.”   “Did they….you know….” Applejack asked in as soft a tone as she could manage. Spyro nodded, sighing heavily. The farm mare just cast her eyes down.   “She never liked talking about the times before she was corrupted, but she confided in me that she had her innocence taken from her in more ways than one.” Spyro cringed, eyes foggy. “She was turned into Malefor’s own personal monster, and after being given powers beyond what all but myself and him are capable of wielding, she laid waste to dragonkind.”   “She became his apprentice?!" Rarity asked, a hoof at her chest, rearing back.   “No, her mind became twisted into his bidding, and she became his slave. While at first it seemed like we had finally pushed back the dark armies, Cynder was a wildcard they hadn’t foreseen. She captured the four guardians, draining them of their magical reserves. She had one purpose now, and that was to free him.”   “If she was so unstoppable, did she free him?” Dash asked from beside him.   “Thankfully I arrived just in time.” The purple dragon eyed his arms a slight grin on his face. “I was just a kid back then, it’s a wonder she didn’t kill me.” He snorted. “In the end, I defeated her, but it was there that I saw who she really was; a young, unwilling child in a twisted war that our ancestors had wrought. I couldn’t leave her there, and I didn’t.”   Twilight was at a crossroads. On one hoof, it was likely that Cynder was the murderer of her guards. Seeing as Spyro was rather far from recovery at the time, it was unlikely he had any part in it, especially as he was openly divulging personal stories and the like.   She still felt a rather righteous need to make the dragoness see the error of her ways and face the harshest justice. Twilight wanted to simply lug up Cynder with the rest of the criminals that heartlessly ruined the lives of others. It was an easy choice to make, one that most would make.   However, she knew more about the history of the dragoness, and while that obviously didn’t make her innocent, those stallions still needed to buried, it did change the game a bit. The mare was always one that leaned on the side of helping others. It was the pony way, and the more she thought about it, the more Cynder seemed to be just a damaged, lost victim of circumstance.   They needed to find her, Twilight wanted to sort this mess out and focus on the real problem here. The Soothsayer was still out there.   “Back at the temple, things somewhat began to return to normal, with us trying to get Cynder to adjust to normal life. We did our best, but it was very hard for her. She hadn’t ever lived this way, free to do as she wished, and every day that passed I could see the struggle inside her.”   A fond smile crossed his muzzle, a bittersweet tear in his eye.   “I could also see the strength. The beauty of her soul that wanted nothing more than to fight on and keep living, even in a world that didn’t understand her, and in many places, didn’t want her. She would always bend, but she would never break."   He struggled for a moment to keep going, his voice catching numerous times, he brought a paw up and wiped his eyes, clearing his throat.   “The peace we found wouldn’t last. The eclipse of the two moons above our world drew ever near, and when it finally happened, the night of eternal darkness would start. His armies were on the move, headed for the Well of Souls. Even though I had stopped Cynder from completely releasing him, part of his essence had broken through the barrier.”   “Wait, you’re telling me a part of him made it through? How does that even work?” Rainbow gave him a confused look, motioning with a hoof for him to elaborate.   “Well, while he was imprisoned, he wasn’t quite in a physical state, so even that brief moment when Cynder had the portal open, a chunk of his magical essence was able to escape, and it it fell into the hands of the ape's leader, a sadistic, vile creature named Gaul.”   “Oh, well that sucks.” Rainbow murmured simply. Spyro harrumphed his agreement.   “Cynder eventually couldn’t stand it any longer, the guilt was just too much for her. In the dead of night, she left the temple, I couldn’t stop her from leaving. I went after her, with another goal in mind, but she was captured by Gaul. It wasn’t even a discussion after that, and as the night was closing in, I went after her.”   “That was might heroic of you, going after your love, oh how romantic.” Rarity swooned, being typically over dramatic. Spyro gave her an odd look, not quite sure what to say to that.   “There wasn’t much time left, the night was nearly upon us. During my fight against Gaul, the moons eclipsed and the mountain began to shake itself apart. In the chaos, I fell into the beam of dark aether shooting into the sky. You have to understand, that much dark power takes over you almost instantly.”   “Is that what the hell happened out at the Everfree?” Dash asked, a look of realization crossing her features.   “Yes.” He nodded grimly, averting his eyes. “Consumed by that evil energy, I killed Gaul in my fury. I nearly turned on Cynder and my brother, thankfully she acted quickly and knocked me out of the beam. Sadly the battle had shook the mountain too heavily, and it collapsed on top of us.”   “You escaped somehow I presume.” Rarity inferred. The purple dragon shook his head.   “I’m not quite sure how I did it, but I sealed the three of us in a crystal, preserving us through the fall of the Well of Souls. Malefor escaped and plunged the world under shadow, while we remained frozen for another three years.” Spyro, did in fact know how he had done it. Purple dragons had more than just elements, they had reasonable control over the flow of time, being able to slow it to a near standstill when needed. The purple dragon knew just how ludicrous it sounded, so he kept that one to himself. Besides, they already looked a bit put off by what they had heard, no need to pour salt in the wound, so to speak.   “By Celestia….three years?” Twilight gaped. Suspended animation was possible, in fact easily so by any talented alchemist, but suspending somepony for more than a year could have dangerous after effects, not to mention long term mental slowing. Three years, that was just….crazy.   “Eventually we were awoken, a cheetah named Hunter finding us in the care of Malefor’s new servants, the grumblins.”   “What happened to the apes then?” Twilight questioned, evidently curious as to the sudden turn of troops.   “It seemed that Malefor had gotten tired of their repeated failures, so he devolved the species and damned them to the darkness.”   “That’s...that’s horrible.” Twilight reared back. Eternal damnation for an entire race? That was borderline genocide.   “Cynder and I escaped the catacombs we had been confined in, but Malefor left us chained to one another, a cursed amulet keeping us from separating. Despite the handicap, we learned to fight with it and not against it.”   Spyro’s expression darkened considerably past this point and Twilight shifted a bit uncomfortably, she got the feeling this was where things started to truly take a turn for the worse.   “Once again, the world was in chaos, but this time we were on the brink of extinction. I was gone for far too long, and my kind was paying for it. We worked our way back to Warfang, the capital of dragonkind and the last remaining bastion we held.”     “We arrived just in time. The city was under heavy siege, and it wouldn’t hold much longer if we didn’t get involved. So we did, doing what we do best, Cynder and I repelled the majority of the forces, an army of two.”   “You fought an entire army when you were a kid, are you serious?” Rainbow gave him an incredulous look. Spyro gave her a blank stare.   “We were not normal dragons, nothing about us was normal.” He sighed, moving around in his seat with a bit of apprehension. “It took a lot more fighting, but eventually we pushed the army back, keeping Warfang safe for the time being. Malefor revealed his trump card that night. An ancient being rose from the volcano he had claimed as his lair, a primordial golem called the Destroyer. It had one goal, one thought, and that was to complete a ring of fire around the planet.”   “Malefor called this the Great Cleansing, the end of the world.”   The five mares had equal looks of apprehension on their faces this far in. They had faced countless entities that wished to do them and Equestria harm, but none that wanted to destroy the world. Why would anypony want that?   “What would he even gain from that? Why destroy everything?” Applejack was exacerbated, the plan not making any sense to her. What the hell was he to gain from a holocaust of that scale.   “Malefor didn’t view himself as a villain, more like an anti-hero who had to do bad things to achieve a greater goal. I can only assume in his mind he felt he would make a better nurturer of the world if he was the one to bring it all back together.”   The lavender Alicorn was getting vague hints that Malefor was like Chrysalis. While on the surface it appeared that the changeling was evil and just wanted to cause chaos, in reality the queen was desperate to feed her starving subjects, going as far as invading Canterlot in order to guarantee their survival.   “Obviously, we couldn’t allow this to happen, so we set out to halt the Destroyer’s advance. Cynder had a stroke of genius and we trapped it in a valley, flooding it by destroying a nearby dam. It worked at first, but we underestimated just how much control Malefor had, as he took direct control over the Destroyer and forcing it back, albeit slowly.”   The climax was about to explode, Twilight could feel it coming.   “We knew this was our last stand. We managed to get through the belt of fire, but my mentor Ignitus died in the process.” His voice cracked, and he coughed roughly, shaking his head. “I’m still not totally over it, I guess.”   “The fighting in those lands was intense, worse than anything I’ve ever seen. We somehow made it through alive, catching an updraft that led us further up into the volcano. Cynder was getting more and more anxious the closer we got, it was hard for her.”   “I could imagine, seeing the one who broke ya in the first place….” Applejack murmured, fiddling with her stetson. Spyro nodded, staying quiet for a moment.   “We reached the summit and confronted him, this was the first time I had ever laid eyes on another purple dragon. He was….twisted. His voice had been corrupted, his body hardened in place with plates of scar tissue. He was a monster to behold.”   Spyro shuddered, muscles tensing under his scales and his tail rattled in his seat.   “He knew how to get under her scales, where to prod to make her feel insecure and unwanted. Her toyed with her, spitting veiled insults and cruel assurances. He weakened her enough, then he took control of her again.”   Rainbow nudged him again, giving him a stern nod. He got the message, glad the pegasus had his back here.   “I thought it was all over, I was alone in that wretched place, my best friend turned against me, beating me senseless. She asked me why I wasn’t fighting back, and I told her the truth. My Cynder was still alive under there, and it was enough for her to break free.”   “He was fed up. When it was evident we wouldn’t join his cause, despite all of his manipulation and torment, he re shackled us and tried to kill us.”   Spyro pawed at his chest plates, tracing a number of scars along the center.   “The battle was short and brutal, taking everything we had. Just as we had pushed him into the core of the world, the Destroyer finished it’s journey, falling back into the volcano, and finishing the ring.”   “So, that was it then? You failed.” Twilight cringed at the thought. Despite your best efforts, with the hope of the entire world on your shoulders, you fail. Her near phobic fear of failure and disappointing others gave her shudders at the concept.   “Not quite. The world was breaking apart, but we had pushed Malefor to the brink, and ourselves. Malefor made oe fatal flaw that day, and it was not realizing that the core of the world contained the spirits of the Anscestors, his original nemesis. The breaking of the world freed them from the core, and they dragged him back into it, silencing him one last time.”   “The world still broke apart, as terrifying as that sounds. Doesn’t really seem like a victory.” Dash deadpanned.   “Cynder and I had both accepted that this was our fate, to die there. In that moment, I felt something inside me, something that had been there from the very beginning. Purpose.”   “I knew what I had to do, and though I wanted her to live, Cynder refused to leave me. She remained by my side, until the end. She confessed to me for the first time that she loved me, and I….”   Tears sparkled in his lilac eyes, and his throat clogged. He clenched his talons hard for a moment, nearly carving marks in the table.   “I let Convexity consume me, it was pure and angelic, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before or since. The fury spread throughout the world, slowly pulling the chunks of the earth back together, sealing it, and saving it from destruction.”   The shock in the room was evident, not a sound being made. Twilight gaped in awe, a sense of inferiority and slight fear filling her. He had pulled an entire planet back together?   “By the gods….” Twilight whispered. “That’s...that’s….”   “Pretty damn crazy Spyro.” Dash spoke simply. Twilight could only nod, mouth dry, looking at the somber Purple dragon in front of her. Crazy indeed.   “We were alive, but just barely. It took us several weeks, but we crawled our way slowly back to Warfang. That, was three and a half years ago.” He turned to Twilight, a blank look on his face. “Things didn’t go so smoothly on our return, especially not for Cynder.”   “She didn’t receive quite the warm welcome I’m sure she hoped. She never expected acceptance, always blaming herself for the crimes she had committed under his influence, but they treated her like a disease. They often got violent with her.”   “She saved them, they should have been grateful.” Fluttershy whispered from the back, sounding surprisingly stern.   “The pain of a loved one lost is hard to forget. They never saw the dragoness underneath the monster that had murdered their families. She never felt angry at them, that surprised me. Cynder, despite all the unrest she had in her heart from the pain she felt, she never blamed those who hated her in turn.”   “I tried to make it better for her, comforting her when she cried and holding her when the nightmares kept her up, but things just kept stacking up on top of each other. One thing she always told me is that she looked forward to being a mother when she grew older...."   “Motherhood is a beautiful thing, I’m sure she would be a great mother.” Fluttershy murmured gently to him. Spyro cringed hard.   “This was when she snapped. Cynder is….she’s barren.” He clenched his eyes shut tightly, jaw shut. Fluttershy gasped quietly, rearing back.   “Oh my, I’m so sorry.” She whimpered, casting him a heartfelt gaze.   “It hurt her more than she would ever let on. All her life she had wrought death, it broke her heart to realize she would never be able to bring life into the world. Though she barely managed to hold on, I could see how fractured she was.”   “It took time, but I was able to help rebuild her, she always retained the strength in her heart, that’s what I’ve always admired about her.”   Tears came to his eyes, falling down his cheeks silently, his wings drooped.   “But, now she’s gone, forever. Now all that I can do is avenge her.” He turned to Twilight, a mixed expression of sorrow and seriousness in his lilac eyes. “I’m sorry for the things that I’ve done, but I’m not your enemy. I will do all in my power to help you defeat this thing, for it took her from me, and I won’t stop until it’s gone. You have my tooth and my claw.” He nodded once at her.   The lavender Alicorn was stunned. His eyes told her he was honest in his intent, but she hadn’t known Cynder was dead. That explained the haggard look in his body and eyes, the look of a husband who had lost his beloved wife, or his lifemate in Spyro’s case.   She knew she needed him in this fight, this was more than a match for all of them. It wasn't much of a choice by this point.   The Soothsayer was still out there and it was hungry. It wouldn’t stop until it had consumed everything in it’s path. Now was not the time for grudges, nor did they have time for mistrust. Through our bleeding, we are one.   It was time for hell to raise again. It was time for war.   *   Her throat was raw, voice gone from screaming her agony to the heavens. She was hopeless to escape the pull of it’s horrible form, she was a mere stone in the face of this wave. It was simply overpowering.   Without a chance, the sunset faded into black as the view of Spyro disappeared, instead replaced by pitch black darkness. The pain in her leg amplified by the sensory deprivation. Simple thoughts vanished in the wake of the bell tolling in her brain.   Every thought was destroyed, replaced by raw terror and panic. Rational thoughts were impossible in this form. Her headache was amplified by the thunderous sirens screeching in her ears. She couldn’t escape and all she could do was pray for the end.   Tendrils slithered up her scales, leaving trails of burning acid down her body. The smell of melting flesh was overpowering, the stench of her own burning skin made Cynder's stomach heave, but it wouldn’t cooperate, instead it dry heaved, leaving a painful ache.   She struggled, newfound fire pouring into her blood as the tendrils moved across her body, vile memories coursing through her head. Memories of her own youthful screams amidst grunts and roars from her captors. Her body contorted, rage flooding her system. The black dragoness screeched, throwing her body away from the tendrils of hot metal.   In reality, the harsh grip of the limbs didn’t let her escape, but trapped in her mind as she was, Cynder could only feel the fear she once experienced as they yanked her innocence away from her, kicking and screaming as she fought with all her life to escape their molesting grip.   Tears cascaded from her eyes and she screamed in panic, reality finding her once again as the tentacles began to rip her apart. They gripped her with fearsome strength, spiked appendages digging deep into her scales, blood spurting free from the deep lacerations.   Cynder's body wiggled in the tight grip, but she couldn’t move, only scream and cry as her body was shredded to pieces. Her paws twitched idly as her scales were ripped and pulled apart, a wet snap accenting the horrible sensations of her flesh being stretched to it’s limit. Strands of muscle and flesh torn, ripping violently in bleeding chunks, being tossed to the forest floor.   A wet whimper gurgled in her throat, intense, red hot agony shooting across her spine, the tendrils burning deep with her flesh, the soft tissue under her scales melting together. Tendrils gripped her between her legs, pulling and tearing her flesh apart, not cutting and slicing. It hurt all the worse, hot agony coursing throughout her form.   A tendril touched a particularly sensitive part of her body. Her spine locked up and despite the limb locked around her throat she screamed so hard her throat cracked and bled. Sticky pus poured out of her back, lesions forming and popping along her blistered tissue.   Her throat snapped closed, a sharp pain slicing through her bowels, cutting and ripping her belly open. Cynder’s stomach curled, sliding around in her constricted abdomen. A hard squeeze and a tug forced her intestines around and she struggled hard, a hole in her abdomen nearly allowing her insides to slide out.   In a moment constituted by mind-numbing pain and thought destroying fear, Cynder pulsed burning waves of convexity from her heavily damaged body. This caused an unearthly screech to escape from the creature.   In rage, it crushed her wings, breaking and snapping bones like twigs in a storm. Every thought apart from base instinctual survival was wiped clean, she nearly lost consciousness. The floodgate of adrenaline keeping her awake when her body wanted nothing more than to die.   Desperate, the dragoness released every bit of convexity possible from her form, the scalding energy finally getting it to release her. Before it lost it’s grip, a tentacle slid across her throat, slicing the sensitive flesh clean open.   Gasping and choking on her own blood, Cynder was dropped to the ground, her shredded body flopping on the grass like a half dead fish. Her eyes stung and her bones ached, many of them broken within her torn and shredded flesh.   A heavenly glow caught her unfocused, drugged gaze. Suddenly everything fell into hypersensitivity, every part of the world around her becoming focused.   Individual blades of grass maneuvered in the heightening winds. Each dark green line of grass being illuminated a deep purple by a pulsing light ahead of her.   The sounds of tearing trees and enraged howling of a dragon off in the distance heightened her headache. Something rustled behind her, the sound of a bomb going off blasting in the far distance.   The ache in Cynder’s body amplified, the sensations of liquid dripping down and over her scales was quite frankly the most noticeable feeling in her mutilated body. Every tear and rip in her scales and soft flesh underneath was easily felt by the black dragoness.   Heavenly purple light caught her attention quickly, the sight filling Cynder's hazy mind with a hope she hadn’t ever known. The view in front of her could have been romanticized by authors and poets for centuries, but nothing would ever be able to describe how much it felt for the black dragoness.   Up ahead, not five feet, was a fury crystal, it’s bright reddish-purple hue glowing like a real light in the darkness.   Shaking and trembling like a leaf in the wind, Cynder began to drag her body closer and closer to the gems. Every movement felt like a new part of her body was tearing off, from tendons snapping and scales held on by strands of muscle pulling away, to bones stretching her skin and tearing open holes in her body.   Each and every inch of ground gained stained the forest floor with red ichor. Shaky breaths escaped her throat, a paw cupping it to stall the flow of blood from her cut larynx. Had she been had the will too, her voice would’ve just been a seriously distorted arrangement of gurgling sounds.   Her talons were quickly stained red, even with her entire paw cupped around the cut, blood still flowed from around her claws. Each inch brought her closer to salvation and an inch closer to death.   Cynder’s life flashed in front of her, every part from birth to now spiraling down her vision. She saw herself, her corrupted from staring into her, an unspoken exchange happening, a narrative of a soul against soul. She saw the evil that she once was, the evil that she could still be as the dead ponies from before flashed in that projection of herself.   Shaking hard, the dragoness pushed against the fury crystal with all her strength. Cracking at the base, the gem broke off smashing against the ground. Chunks of the pinkish crystal shattered, fragments absorbing into her scales, sealing and re piecing small parts of her eviscerated body.   The fury built in her chest, enormous energy building in her core, racing through her body. Cynder’s mind went along with the pain melting from her flesh. The rage locked within her core from contamination by darker forms of convexity broke free.   Before she could lose her mind to the abuse of fury, an enormous blast of convexity smashed into the forest from the plain outside, sending her flying through the air. The black dragoness slammed against trees and loose branches. She couldn't cry out in pain, her voice gone and dead. She flew for a few seconds, garnering scrapes and bruises, eventually slamming head first into a thick trunk, instantly sending her world into darkness. * Her dreams were nearly nonexistent at first, mere images and thoughts flying back to her at the speed of lightning. She attempted desperately to hold onto a few of the more pleasant ones, but they flew through her paws like sand. She cried out in the darkness, screaming for someone, anyone to find her. The cold darkness cared not for Cynder's screams, instead closing in around her in a near suffocating embrace. Her senses were flooded with voices and pictures, the faces of those she had killed, the crying of their families. The black dragoness, gripped her head in her paws, tears streaming down her face. In her dreams she often saw the faces of those she had killed, but those were while she was corrupted. This time, they were the young, terrified faces of the guards she had killed down in that dungeon. Cynder could see the tears in their eyes as they stared death in it's face. "No...no...no please, leave me alone." Cynder whimpered, clenching her eyes shut, wrapping her tattered wings around her shivering form, praying for respite, something, anything to make the voices stop. The cries of their families as they buried them, struck her down. Thoughts of children never seeing their daddies again, never being able to to have their father comfort them when they were scared. Grieving mates mourning for their lovers late at night, sitting alone and cold in an empty room. Faces, accusing and angry, sorrowful and scared, they glared down at her. Fear of death clear in their faces, she knew that she had cut their lives short. A haunting look of fear was plastered on one of them, a youthful face, his neck savagely ripped apart in bloody marks. Cynder screamed, but sound wouldn't escape her. The darkness denied her the right to feel herself, to hear herself, to comfort herself. It was going to make her suffer, for she deserved it. Malefor's weapon, that's all she was. Heat entered her body in a blaze. "NO!" Her voice cut through the cries, silencing them instantly. She wasn't that dragoness anymore, she never would be. Despite the fiery reassurance in herself, that loud, accusing voice told her otherwise. What did that monster do? Yes, she killed the innocent by the thousands in brutal, over the top ways. Those guards may have been threatening, but did they really intend to kill her? Why would they keep her alive in the first place. Cynder felt the horror break through the despair. She had let the paranoia and fear that drove others to hate her turn her into the very thing she despised. In front of her, the smoke cleared, a fork stuck in the road waited, silent as stone. Neither path looked safe, each cloaked in shadows and with an aura of malice about it, a malevolent energy. Cynder stood, wiping the tears from her cheeks, drawing up to her full height. She closed her eyes, walking straight, uncaring of which path she ended up on, letting time guide her by the wrist, Cynder crossed the threshold of the fork, turning down the stone path under her claws. Although unsure of exactly where she was going, the dragoness made the promise to herself that wherever that she ended up, she would make it right. Miss Murder, that had been who she was, and now her vile influence had spread. Cynder refused to let it be the image she left the citizens of Equestria with. Whatever the task, whatever the need, Cynder would bear it. The black dragoness vanished into the shadow, the path to salvation ahead of her. Black as ink, the room faded out, leaving naught a trace of what had been.     > Catch ThirtyThree > --------------------------------------------------------------------------  The break from dream to life was strikingly sudden. Cynder’s world was a void, her mind gone in a black pit where no life existed. Suffocating and lifeless, the black dragoness learned something during her time in desolation and darkness; the art of drowning. Falling into a place where one cannot breathe, she very quickly found how to exist as a ghost, filtering around for weeks, no consciousness in her comatose mind. While this dark pit was a null void where her very consciousness was gone and bleak, the juxtapose that would overcome it was enough to fracture her senses. Here she couldn’t think, not a single thought flew across her mind. It was the same as the thoughts someone had before they are born. In the context of sentience, it doesn’t exist, a place where one doesn’t think, nor can they realize that they could think. Simply, she was comatose in every single way. Her void was pierced very abruptly, a dim light breaking the veil of shadow across her mind and welcoming in a light of unbelievable intensity. Eyes that felt like they had never been used before were unprepared for the painful intrusion. Cynder wanted to blot the light. The very first thought that entered her drunk mind was this, a cry for retreat. The proud dragoness didn’t want to admit that she was scared, but in her own core she knew there was no escaping this tormentor, as it was eager to give more. Sunspots flashed in her unsteady vision. Despite the burning sun she was freezing, body numb and frozen like a glacier in the north. Cynder struggled in the grip of the sun, shocking stinging crawling across every nerve in her body. Evident agony strangled her scales, the very skin under them itching like a horde of fire ants were crawling along her. The black dragoness screamed, but nothing left her throat, the torn and shredded larynx not cooperating. Instead, liquid cascaded down her throat, choking her and dragging her down below the surface. A cold burial awaited her at the bottom of this trench, a shallow grave and an untimely end to a short life. Cynder’s body abruptly broke free of the cold grip of death, fire swimming in her veins, a fury in her blood. Claws and horns glowing green, Cynder swung blindly at her unknown attacker, fighting back with all she was worth. Heart pounding, the black dragoness broke the chain gripping her so tightly, shaking off the shackles with a cry of anger and pain. As the chains broke, the sedative keeping her body dead wore itself thin, a terrible agony flooding her system rapidly. The burn of flames and the scratching of glass across her limbs suddenly re-awoke, twisted and convulsing memories of a dark forest awaking in her head, Tears flowed down her cheeks, going completely unnoticed by the scrambling dragoness. Indignation screamed in her body, eager to slash and maul what was touching her. Something crawled up her throat, a slimy, wet fluid swimming in her esophagus. A wet screech broke through her jaws, echoing out in the void like a broken siren, morphing into a grotesque gurgling sound, accompanied by the terrible tolling of bells. Emerald eyes widening, Cynder twisted and contorted her body madly, bladed tail swiping at anything and everything close by. Her claws caught on something in the shade. Ripping her body to the side savagely, Cynder whipped her wings around, cutting something on her curved, knife like wings. An unearthly screech penetrated the desolation, the familiar sound of apes beckoning her back into the past. Her eyes, beginning to adjust to the blinding darkness, made out the shallow forms of the dark simians. Frantically, she scoured in circles, eyes scanning the darkness over and over, watching in growing terror as their numbers multiplied. Amidst their extreme numbers, the unearthly tolling of the bell pounded in her head, that wailing siren penetrating the fog. Cynder’s brain slammed into the side of her skull, her body rocking across the dark plain. A bloodied crack of snapping bones splintering her side. The black dragoness was too dazed to even scream. The light was gone, replaced by nothing but shadow. Sirens and bells tolling, the dragoness flipped onto her back, the familiar grip of grimy hands holding her down. She wanted to scream,  but nothing could get past the gag in her mouth, the disgusting taste of hands reaching down her throat. Insides curling, Cynder gurgled and bit down hard on the hands pushing into her throat. Putrid blood filled her throat, drowning lungs in the terrible taste of rotten infection. Screams amplified in the dragoness’s ears, horrific yelping coming from the simians holding her down. Chaos racked her every thought, the nightmare appearing unending. A breeze passed by, the wind barely brushing against her scales, but it was almost enough to break the terror induced trance plaguing her sleeping mind. Hatred spiked in Cynder’s veins, the dragoness's eye whites fading to black and her jade irises being replaced by a dark glowing navy blue. Snarling, the dragoness gave some of her fight to the shadows, jerking her body wildly. Tail blade cutting through the darkness, Cynder found herself looking at a very different surrounding than the one before. Realizations floored her suddenly. The breeze from before made sense now. She wasn’t the young adult anymore, no, instead sleek scarred black scales had been turned back into the dark grey blemish-less exterior of her youthful years. Cynder’s shackles remained, ever present reminders that she was enslaved to her past no matter how far back the clock turned. The pit of despair was gone, dark bleakness replaced by the pale blackness of a forest. Trees dotted Cynder’s vision, the landscape dominated by the black shapes of their presence. Amidst the frigid chill running through the dreams-cape, a dim groan of gurgling funneled just out of line of sight. She was instantly on edge, her eyes returning to normal and the whirlwind of rage and steel halting in her movements. Cynder eyed the darkness warily, jade orbs scanning the trees frantically. The breeze halted, the black sky motionless around her. Why was this place so familiar? What was that presence that lied on the outskirts of her senses? The young dragoness took a hesitant step forward, her claw tips not making a single sound on the stone-hard ground. A thought abruptly came to her. “This has to be a dream…” She whispered to herself, shaking her head roughly. It was coming back to her. Yes, she indeed knew this place, better than she would have liked. This dark forest had approached her many times in her dreams, the charred woods ever a nightmare. Raising a claw, she pricked her side hard, drawing a single drop of blood. It impacted the forest floor without a sound, splattering lightly. Deep within the forest an abomination was called to action. “Why....why can’t I wake up….” Cynder shivered, feeling a very unnatural chill race across her spine. Something was different, she had been here before, but she had snapped herself out of this lucid nightmare more than once. “I need to get out of here, if I stay put I’m dead.” Cynder turned her head around, whipping her vision to and fro. Nothing was there. There was no wind. There was no life. Only dark, gnarled trees and pitch black skylines. “Out of this forest, there’s got to be a way out.” The black dragoness whispered to herself, sprinting on muted paw-steps. Memories of before lanced through her head. Thoughts of her own agonized screams, the terrible gurgling… A siren wailing, a bell tolling deep within her skull…. The same sound that was just on the edge of her senses, surrounding her from virtually all directions. Cynder gulped hard, swallowing the growing lump in her throat, feeling pure desperation start to flow through her body. Her pupils shrunk and her paws skid the ground, pulling her down the narrow stone path leading through these terrible woods. Every soft pat of paws hitting the ground sped up her heart. Every rustle in the otherwise silent air made her head spin. Breath coming in heaves, the dragoness sprinted between tree lines, one thought on her mind. Get. Away. From. IT! A soft scampering pat noise tapped along behind her, the steady beat of claws impacting dirt beginning to be droned out by an increasingly loud buzz of static in her head. Soreness came to her lungs and limbs much faster than normal, the black dragoness unused to the youthful form she found herself in. Breath hitching as pale light came from within the trees up ahead, Cynder’s heart dropped. The black dragoness's face morphed into a picture of pure horror. Her jaw dropped and she skid to a halt as she breached the narrow clearing, pale white and red light shining through the trees. Cynder’s eyes became simple jade pools with a tiny black dot in the center, fear rendering her immobile. The monster towered over her, nearly ten feet tall. It screeched, it’s pale bony form emerging from the ground, stuck in spots like ink dried to paper. The bottom of it’s body grew from the ground like tree roots, pulsing blood red veins running up the entirely of it’s morphed and distended body. It's wings lacked membranes, instead just looking like a razor sharp sheet with pulsing veins running along the surface. Odd shackles adorned it's body in strange places, appearing as a disrupted copy of her own. The worst part of it was it’s head. The neck extended far too long, the appendage seemingly to gain a life of it’s own. The neck narrowed and broadened at random, gaining bloated sections at the bend, before narrowing out at off ends. Cynder squealed in terror. It’s face….it was hers. Grotesque in every way, the face resembled hers, but was bone white and much too long. The eyes larger, sunken in black sockets that looked more like ink colored binoculars than sockets on a living being. Inky tar leaked down from its gaze, falling into it’s much too big mouth. It didn’t open right, long lines of flesh still attached themselves in strings down the middle of the nearly eighty degree opened jaw. Cynder felt herself gazing into eternity in it’s bottomless black pit of a throat, at least as much that wasn’t obscured by mismatched teeth of varying sharpness and size. It didn’t take long. A single second. “Run little Cynder, go and hide.” It called to her in a mix of childish glee and villianish malice. It’s groaning voice echoed in her ears from everywhere, the simple declaration bounding over itself multiple times, slowing and speeding up. The dragoness screamed, her voice sounding deranged and insane. In a split second, she was off, catapulting herself as far away from the abomination as she could. Heart thudding thunderously in her hears, she could hear it behind her, screaming in….her voice. It didn’t sound right. Like someone had recorded it and played it back, but the audio had gotten corrupted. The disturbing scream was laced with static, the screeching scraping painfully against Cynder’s eardrums. Gritting her teeth, Cynder shook the tears from her jade eyes. Paws slamming into the earth and heart pounding almost painfully against her rib-cage, Cynder threw herself around the bend of the path, swiping her glowing green tail blade against the large boulder along the corner of the path. Green acidic juice sprayed off the end of the blade as it collided with rock, staining the path with poisonous lime tar. Dashing forward without breaking stride, Cynder turned her head, though she immediately wished she hadn’t. It squirmed around the bend, limbs splayed in different directions, head now only resembling hers at the basest of levels. The mouth opened and distorted, bending in unnatural patterns, continuing to emit that haunting, bent version of her own screams. Cynder cringed forcefully, whipping her head around and continuing to sprint down the narrow path at full speed, paws thudding against the ground, kicking up a small trail of grey dust. The eyes glaring into the back of her head nearly burned a hole in the dragoness back, causing her heart to skip a beat heavily. She let out a shuddering breath, skidding off the path as it suddenly ended directly in the wake of a dead end. Screaming in frustration and desperation, Cynder threw herself between trees, heightening her focus to near impossible levels. The world seemed to draw ever slower, her breaths coming in slowed down motions. Blinking rapidly, Cynder tossed herself to the side, nearly avoiding the monster as it propelled forward, snapping and bending trees as it’s unnatural body contorted around the limbs. A stare followed, each meeting gazes, but only briefly. Cynder saw something inside those black pits of tar, a vision that shook her bones, a glimpse of something she never wanted to see. She saw herself in that horror, that’s when she became scared. Not another thought was needed, the dragoness locked up, mind uncomprehending. Talons scampering as the creature’s grotesque mouth bent into a twisted smile, the dragoness ricocheted in the opposite direction. At first she didn’t hear it follow her, merely hearing the haunting laughter of a time long past. It was cruel and uncompromising, a sadistic noise that took pleasure in the twisted pain it was causing, the agony it had caused in the past. Images appeared in Cynder’s head, the pictures ones she had attempted to burn long ago. Lances of pain flashed in her skull, horrific images of torture and mutilation. Atrocities committed by her, the demon she had once been. Snarling in enraged defiance, Cynder buried the self loathing under a coat of anger, blood boiling in her veins. Shaking her rattling scales roughly, the dragoness pushed her paws to the side, coughing once. Smacking the side of her head roughly, Cynder pressured her brain into action, drawing upon the level of focus she had once shown in battle, shearing the pained memories free of her mind. It seemed it was all too fortunate that she did so, for just as Cynder retained her focus, the abomination was hot on her heels, cruel laughter invading her space. Magenta wing membranes snapped taught, following the spread of black limbs upon her back, Cynder rolled forward, twisting her body around to the direction she had been running away from. Stomach rolling in her chest, the dragoness's lungs expanded far. A earth shattering blast of wind burst free of Cynder’s throat, hitting the abomination forcefully, pushing it back several yards before it’s twisted limbs caught the ground, locking it into place. The black female didn’t wait to find out if it could break free. Wing still spread, she forced every bit of remaining strength she had into the shallow streams of wind from her dash through the woods. Nothing would come to her, no matter how hard she willed it too. “Come on, work with me!” Cynder snarled, frustrated beyond all thinking. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and without waiting she ducked, her body moving so fast her muscles torn in her legs. A white flash sailed over her, smashing into trees, the noise slamming into her ear drums. Cynder clenched her eyes shut, whispering fervently into the woods around her, listening very carefully as the screams from earlier replaced laughter, this time carrying a high pitched wail that made her scales crawl and teeth itch. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted it, noting how it struggled this time. The sight was putrid. Along the front of it’s body were harsh red marks, the thick pulsing veins along it’s entire body rupturing, spurting red across white. It’s jaws were nearly a straight line, the bottom mandible opened so wide it looked like it had simply fallen out of it’s socket. That disgusting black liquid continued to leak from it’s eyes and mouth, hitting the ground with an audible thud. Those black holes bored straight into her, sending a shiver across the dragoness's spine. “Karma is such a bitch.” Cynder swallowed hard, pulling her wings back across the scarred black scales along her back. Without turning back, the black scaled female stepped hurriedly into the onyx treeline. Shadows slid along the ground, the female’s eyes now a near solid black. Magenta highlights now hidden under a billowing cloak of darkness, she ran through the woods. Expanding her reach, Cynder pushed shadows around her talons, effectively muffling her paw-steps, each sounding like thunder across the deathly silent forest. The black female raced across the forest, narrowly avoiding each tree by less than an inch, not sparing the room. She knew she needed the speed, bleeding any could result in that monster catching up. Heart thudding under a splintered rib cage, a set of lungs burned. Cynder nearly retched after several minutes of full on sprint, this youthful body she was stuck in not able to put out the normal amount of exertion she had become accustomed to. Slowing her pace, Cynder bent her pathing, turning a near ninety degrees to the right, before continuing her sprint. It became apparent to her that something had changed, and surprise hit her harder than anything else. That noise, that dull ringing that had started the second she had awoke here was gone. Along with that, the distorted noises that it had made was absent. Slowing her pace, the female stopped by a large trunk. Leaning against it, she sat down, bringing a paw up to her chest. Her breaths came fast and hard, heaving from battered lungs with acidic pain. It took a minute, but she was able to slow her heart and breathing. A black scaled head, nearly invisible in the night, peered around the trunk, which in itself was hard to spot. Although her eyes had adjusted to the bleak darkness, she could barely see anything without the assistance of shadow. Not a sight nor a sound. “What….” She whispered nearly inaudibly. Cynder sank deeper against the tree, a sigh leaving her. She brought a paw to her mouth, pressing it hard against her muzzle as a shuddering breath left her. She wanted to cry, to weep and beg for something to end this nightmare, but she didn’t. Her grit was the only way she would survive this, it had gotten her this far in life. With a miserable groan, she wiped her eyes of the building moisture. Leaning her head back against the trunk, Cynder closed her eyes. Fear like that, it’s what drove beings to survive, it’s why she was alive in the first place. Why wasn’t she dead, there wasn’t anything that should have let her escape from that grip, nothing can escape the pull of a black hole. Fear is what kept her from falling into it, into that bottomless pit that wanted nothing more than her eternal torture, a slow unending agony that she would never escape from. Fear. All her life fear is what people got from her. Even if they hid it behind anger and violence, they were always afraid of her deep down. It was the reaction that had always remained the most consistent for her, fear that she felt was always outweighed by the fear she inspired. Fear is what kept her from that monster she once was. The terror that she would fall from the grey area of morality that she occupied. Nothing was more terrifying that returning to what she was, to her. Miss Murder was the image of terror, the slaughterer of thousands, the object of so many nightmares and lost loved ones. A predator rouge that was the source of every prayer and call for help. She was panic, she was death, she was horror. Despite that, there would always be something more true about that which stalked her in this dark forest. However much she inspired, she was not fear. She wasn’t the manifestation of horror and death, of pestilence and chaos, the harbinger of the end. It was fear. And fear is not afraid of you. A childish giggle filtered into her ears. Cynder’s eyes snapped open, staring right into pools of ink and tar, not two inches from her face. A droning siren wail filtered through the forest all around her, a bell tolled from above. Pressed against the tree, she couldn’t even breathe. “Found you Cynder.” Her own voice had never sounded so terrifying. * * * Cynder jerked wildly, her limbs suddenly not working. The recurring image of it’s eyes, it’s horrible eyes, continued to ring around in her skull. She cringed, whimpering in pain. For what it was worth, she could make out sounds that weren't present in that forest, a good sign in her book. Trying to move an arm was a tremendous effort in it’s own right. A strangled groan left her muzzle, a wet cough followed by something dribbling from her jaws. Her claws tapped against something covering her eyes, a soft fabric clasp. Memories came back to her, the visions of her body being destroyed before her very eyes was more than enough to stick. Wincing, the dragoness tried to push herself off her back. Dull throbbing where her wings were was enough to keep the wounded female from attempting too much movement. Another strangled groan escaped her, the dragoness flopping back onto her back with a weak gasp, every inch of Cynder’s body filled with a dull aching, like something was scraping under her scales. Cynder cringed when she tried to use her voice, attempting to weakly call out to whoever was near. Instead of words, all that escaped her was a weary rasp, accented by a near inaudible gurgle deep within her throat. Growling softly, the female brought a talon up to her eyes weakly, slashing carefully across the fabric. Wrenching her claws in the opening, she pulled the gauze forcefully from over closed emerald eyes. The dragoness was grateful that vision came to her, albeit slowly, but at least she had it still. The room was dark, nearly too dark for anything to be made out. An oil lamp sat in the corner of the chamber on a desk, the light proving to be unnaturally bright to the dragoness’s damaged vision. Cringing at the painfully bright light, Cynder turned her head, neck cracking from a crippling lack of movement. Much of her sleek black scales and magenta belly was obscured by stained white gauze, making her look more like a mummified corpse than a strong, seasoned warrior. In particular, a spot on her lower belly was massively bandaged, the white fabric extending along the line of her belly, disappearing under her back. Despite this, she could feel the multitude of bandages her back leaned on. Cynder groaned, feeling more drained and achy than she had ever been. Sighing roughly, Cynder leaned her head back, smacking the padded pillow resting behind her head. At least she knew she wasn’t dead; hurt way too damn much to be anything other than still living and breathing. The sound of tapping glass next to her broke the dragoness's concentration. Turning groggily, the female was greeted to a hybrid creature sitting next to her. It was half bird and half lion, gazing down at her with a small smile on it’s beak. Soft burgundy feathers painted her mid and back halves, while a dark grey mane sported her front. “Rise like the phoenix, my dear. You’re not dead yet.” The griffon gave her a smirk, bringing a glass up to her lips. Cynder was very suddenly reminded of how parched her throat was. Normally the independent dragoness would’ve been all against having someone help her do such a simple task, but in this state all she could think about was how good the liquid looked. Reaching a shaky paw up, the dragoness pushed the glass back abruptly. The griffon gave a quiet squawk, surprised by the sudden energy in her near dead charge. Guiding the glass back, the avian gave the younger female a reproachful look. Inside the dragoness’s throat, a laceration suddenly burned like fire from the rough treatment, causing Cynder to choke and sputter, a violent hack breaking through her lungs. Her nurse quickly grabbed the glass from her talons before it could slip, while helping to ease the dragoness back during her coughing fit. Gasping raspily, Cynder pushed herself back up a bit, a faulty stoic look eased onto her expression. Halting the burning retch building within her throat, the female dragon reached out shakily back towards the glass. “Don’t drown yourself, not sure your throat could handle much right about now.” Cynder paid her no heed, instead focusing on swallowing the water, though this time taking it a bit more carefully. When it was empty, the hen carefully set it back onto a tray beside her, casting her ruby red eyes down on the dragoness. Swapping the glass for a clay bowl, the hen brought the foul smelling mixture to Cynder’s lips, the female visibly recoiling at the stench. “Yeah yeah, I know it doesn’t smell very good and it tastes even worse.” The griffon rolled her eyes, tilting the bowl forward carefully with her dexterous claws. “Trust me, you’re gonna want it. I’m sure you’re in some pain, it’s nothing compared to what it’ll feel like if we don’t keep this in your system.” Cynder couldn’t help but agree with that statement, so she toughed out the terrible concoction, swallowing it in one go. The female’s next attempt at conversation ended in a coughing fit and a somewhat scolding look from the griffon. “You won’t be able to speak for a while. When you were brought to me your were virtually dead. Among the large list of injuries, you had your Larynx torn to pieces. Thankfully your vocal cords were relatively intact and seem to be healing on their own.” The dragoness found herself nodding along with what was being said. Memories of what happened in that forest were unfortunately very vivid. She felt her stomach curl. Cynder could still feel that thing slicing through her neck like a burning blade. “It’s been three weeks since then. To be completely honest with you, I wasn’t ever expecting you to wake up.” For the first time, the griffon’s expression changed from reserved, a tone of sympathy coloring it. Three weeks? A fire started in Cynder’s heart. That was too much time to be away, what had happened to Spyro? It was fairly evident that he wasn’t with her, the griffon had only mentioned her being found, not another. Then was her dead? Had that entire ambush been a slaughter from it? Was anyone still alive from that but her? “I’m sorry, you should have seen what I saw.” The griffon quickly amended when she caught the pained look from her charge, misreading the emotion’s cause. "When you are able to get back on your feet, I want you to take time to work your body back into shape. We were able to get some food into you along the weeks, but there will be some atrophy in your muscles. Not to mention that you were missing large chunks of them to begin with, but...." the griffon trailed off with a grimace and a shake of her feathered head. Cynder cringed rather forcefully. Those had hurt much worse than any physical wounds she had ever experienced, and though the dragoness hadn't seen the damage personally the feeling of masses of flesh being torn and ripped out were memories she didn't suspect to be leaving any time soon. Noticing the aloofness of her nurse, Cynder pointed a claw at the griffon, raising a brow with a questioning grunt. Said griffon gave her a confused glance for a second. Blinking once, she snapped her claws. “Ah yes, how silly of me. My name is Gimle.” She gave a confident smirk, swiping some of the reddish liquid from the corner of Cynder’s mouth. “Don’t even try to introduce yourself honey, I’ll found out when that voice of yours recovers.” It just occurred to Cynder how strange that Gimle sounded. Her accent was unlike any she had ever heard. The griffon’s words seemed to come from farther back in her throat, her ‘o’s more highlighted. There was a strange sort of rhythm to her words, one that Cynder found impossible to describe. “My husband found you, if you were wondering. You truly have no idea how lucky you are.” She gave Cynder a blank look, one that spoke of how serious she was. “He wasn’t looking for you.” The dragoness winced, realizing that for once, she was completely helpless then. If the intentions of those that had found her had been more malicious, then she wouldn’t be here listening to this strange griffon. She be in the vengeful grip of the thousands that she had slaughtered. She shivered heavily at the thought. “Don’t gripe too much.” The griffon gripped her shoulder, shaking the younger female from her increasingly distressing line of thought. “You are alive, even if it was by the tip of a feather.” Wincing at the ache in her bones, the dragoness nodded once, doing her best to show just how grateful she was. Thankfully the older female grasped the moisture in the jade irises staring up. Giving her charge a soft pat on the head, Gimle leaned back, snapping a claw in remembrance. “Oh, I almost forgot, my daughter visits from time to time, and she happened to stop by the other day when I was working on you. She may pop her head in from time to time. If you can talk, try to be a bit tough towards her at first, that's the kind of thing Gilda respects.” Cynder raised a brow. How was she supposed to have a conversation, at least one that wasn’t completely one sided? And how would this mystery griffon even know who she was? She had no way of voicing her concerns. Gimle seemed to catch her skeptical look, rolling her eyes at the black dragoness. “Yes, I know you can’t speak, I was just letting you know in advance. She can be rather….pushy.” The hen rolled a claw, casting her gaze somewhere else. Cynder felt a sense of exasperation. Great, a brusque hen, just what she wanted to deal with. Thinking for a second, Cynder supposed that she could be like that, so…. “I won’t let her bother you right now, I doubt you’d be able to keep up with her energy given your injuries.” The hen picked up the tray, getting to her feet. “I’ll check up on you later, get some rest for now.” Gimle stopped for a second, not looking back. Following the terse silence, she turned her head with a weary smile on her beak. “I saw you tossing and turning, I know you don’t sleep easy. Behind the clouds, the sun is always shining, just remember that.” Without another word, she walked out the open door, the lock clicking softly behind her. The silence left Cynder to ponder the hen’s words. It was no secret she had nightmares, but if those were the clouds, when the hell would they pass? Cynder was reminded of her old fortress, the constant storm that raged there. Grunting softly, she rolled over, being careful not to aggravate her wounds. There may always be a sun behind the storm, but some storms never pass. She had been so close to death, closer than ever before, it was a truly scarring thought. And Cynder had never felt more alive. > The Link of All Flesh > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Tell me again what you hope to gain from this?” Twilight sighed. The past three weeks had been busy, more so than nearly any she had ever had in her relatively short life. Didn’t really help that the progress they had made was largely irrelevant. The Everfree was still regrowing. The Everfree was still growing darker. Worse of all, the Everfree was still forcing an even bigger dead-zone around its extent. “Testing one of my theories about your Convexity, something you seem oddly keen to avoid.” Twilight couldn’t keep the slight bite from her voice. Though she hadn't meant to, the Alicorn mare could feel the stress eating at her nerves. Spyro shifted uncomfortably, the purple dragon squirming on the flat piece of metal he was sat on. The wires attached to his scales pulled slightly on the various instruments dotted around the spacious basement. “Convexity isn’t a toy, Twilight.” The purple dragon averted his eyes, hiding the slightly shameful glint sparkling inside those violet irises. Twilight dropped her scowl, an element of understanding entering her eyes. “Listen Spyro, I know you hate what Convexity is capable of, but we need to understand how it affects...it.” The mare chose her words carefully, making sure to not awaken that spark of hatred that now rested inside the dragon’s heart. The death of a loved one didn’t exactly do wonders for the murderer’s reputation. “It destroys it. What else do we need to know?” Twilight smirked, expecting something along those lines. She had a trump card this time however, something to defeat the question that had plagued the mare in her search for an experimental demonstration. “Dash pointed something out about her first encounter with you-” “Of course she did.” Spyro narrowed his eyes, deadpanning at the Alicorn strutting around in front of his semi restrained form. Twilight pouted slightly. “...as I was saying, Dash told me that when you destroyed the forest the first time around, Convexity warped the air around you and her, distorting it.” “Yeah, so? It always does that, keep in mind what I explained to you weeks ago. Convexity doesn’t originate here naturally. It’s far from a normal place.” The mare clicked her tongue at him, the pony version of a snap, it seemed. Turning hard, she gave him an exaggerated smile. Spyro scooted back, knowing what was coming next. “Exactly! Convexity shares that quality with our enemy, except that this distortion had shown to mess with it’s structure. From what you told me, Convexity destroys everything rather explosively.” She stepped away from him, hooves clacking as she jumped off the metal platform. Spyro continued to watch her with his muzzle scrunched, an uneasy expression plastered on the dragon’s face. “That gives the indication that Convexity is less of a separate element than those you naturally possess. Instead, it is an anti-element, an energetic phenomenon that destroys both, but with an extremely powerful magical discharge-” “Twilight.” Spyro stated, brows knit. She took a deep breath, sighing in annoyance. “They blow up if they touch.” “Oh. Well I already knew that. There is a reason that I don’t use it unless it’s an emergency...or if I…” He trailed off, wincing in remembrance. “I still don’t see how the two are related.” The dragon’s face contorted into a frown, mind whirling a mile a minute. “Well, I’m not trying to bore you with the complex details, but I’ll keep it simple.” The Alicorn straightened up, muzzle scrunching slightly and eyes glinting in excitement. Spyro rolled his eyes, laying his head down on his paws. Blinking blearily, the dragon attempted to not doze off as Twilight began her ramble. “Magical theory dictates that two opposing forms of magic, specifically in this case earthen elements and anti-elements collide, they destroy each other in a process called magical annihilation. You following so far?” She raised an eyebrow, a questioning line drawn across her muzzle. “Yeah.” Spyro gave a quick yawn, not lifting his head as her stared up at the smaller Alicorn. “You mentioned anti-elements. If Convexity isn’t something that doesn’t exist in your dimension, than what was your equivalent?” Twilight was happy he asked, loving that someone was paying attention to her lectures for once. “Only one creature that exist here has shown an anti magic, but these explosive collisions are much more uncommon as the two magic types don’t share a similar application like yours do.” He shot her a questioning look. “I’m not quite sure I get what you mean…” “You project elements with a defined physical structure, such as flames or shards of ice. Given that the magic of your dimension seems to permeate within your world, or at least that’s what the tests show, Convexity would react violently with nearly everything.” Spyro nodded once, making a quiet note of acknowledgement. “That magical energy that we ponies possess is very different. It is just a force that strengthens us in very specific ways.” The Alicorn mare paused for a moment, raising a hoof to her chin in consideration. “Well, I guess Unicorns and Alicorns are less specific, our horns giving us more of a field projection.” “Which is unbelievably unnatural might I add.” Spyro mumbled with a disturbed expression, scales tensed. Twilight narrowed her eyes, drawing back in slight indignation. “Coming from the one who spits lightning from his face.” “That’s different.” “Really? That’s different than force projection fields!?" The mare nearly shouted, flustered. Spyro didn’t move, still keeping the same skeptical line on his muzzle. “Telekinesis is perfectly reasonable, relax.” The purple dragon relaxed about two scales, but didn’t further protest. Shaking her head at the rather stubborn antics of the castle’s resident inter dimensional traveler, she continued her explanation. “The anti-magic we have is something called Chaos Energy. It is about as uncommon as Convexity compatible beings and it’s very fortunate for that too. Chaos is less destructive and more….altering than anything else. Changing ponies and their personalities. While explosive annihilation is much less common, it happens when the magics collide in their purest forms.” Spyro perked up a bit, an odd look that twilight was unable to read entering his eyes. It sent shivers down the Alicorn’s spine though. Something about it spoke of something she was not privy to, and maybe for good reason. “Corruption…” He mumbled, venom coloring the dragon’s usually gentle voice. Twilight took a step back, knowing the sudden brooding that climbed into Spyro’s violet eyes. Sensing what the dragon was battling under a set of lavender scales, the mare dropped her lecture momentarily, trotting up to him slowly. He didn’t even notice her coming, eyes far away, scales tensed and claws clenched. Sighing, the mare flopped down next to her larger friend. She folded a velvety wing over the brooding dragon. This broke the dragon from his stupor. He gave her a glance, one filled with unease and insecurity. After a moment's hesitation, the dragon drooped his head, gritting fangs tightly in frustration and uncertainty. Grumbling miserably, Spyro refused to budge, staring into the far wall with a mixed expression. “It’s never going to go away.” It was less of a question and more of a resigned statement. Twilight was used to this by now, as much as she would have rather avoided seeing her draconic friend in pain. “It’s not really supposed to. When that person you love is gone, all you have left is your memories.” The mare gently tried to to console him, but the dragon wasn’t having any of it. He shrugged her off hard, turning to the side and keeping his poker face ever solid. The empathetic mare could still see the lines of stress running along his face and the tears ever present within those violet irises. “I keep dreaming of her. Of Cynder.” The dragon clenched his eyes shut hard, hiding tear-brimmed orbs behind a curtain of lavender scales. “I miss her so much…” Spyro whimpered, digging his claws into the metal plate. Twilight’s heart tugged for her agonized companion, knowing just how much the loss of his mate had plagued him. This was far from the first time the usually calm, jolly dragon had fallen into this rut and she assumed it wouldn’t be the last. “I’m worried one day….that one day I won’t want to dream about her. I’m scared that I’ll become so hurt by seeing her….that I’ll want her to leave me forever.” His throat heaved, a strangled cough leaving the haggard dragon. Rubbing a paw against his closed eyes strongly, Spyro sniffled once, letting out a shuddering breath. The mare’s heart constricted, hating seeing the dragon in emotional turmoil, wrapped her wing tighter around the male, careful to not break the wires off his scales. He hardly noticed the attempt at comfort, mind focused on increasingly distressed territory. She was worried he was going to go downhill rapidly, opening up that floodgate of rage felt that fateful day those weeks ago. After a moment of tense silence, Spyro let out an exhausted sigh, opening his eyes and flopping his skull in between scarred paws. “I know it’s hard Spyro. You don’t have to forget her, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” Twilight spoke gently, consolingly. She felt like he was listening this time, the slightest of twitches in his torn wings. “It may not go away, but it will get better eventually.” “How am I supposed to recover from having her murdered in front of me? What could I ever do to fix that?” He asked angrily, lifting his head quickly from the floor and glaring at her with tear filled orbs of violet. His jaw was pulled taut, a noticeable tremble running through his body as the dragon struggled to keep himself together. “Maybe you’re not supposed to fix it. It hurts because you love her. It’s always going to hurt, but that pain will dull.” The dragon stared at her for a few moments, tears leaking down his face. The lines it drew across his scales made him look older, more weary. On a whim, she added a line that she hoped would get him to feel a little better. “You’re not alone.” His tear soaked eyes widened and Twilight felt her gut twist at the horrified look that entered them in full force. An awful noise spilled out of his throat and he quickly avoided his gaze, drawing the purple curtains closed forcefully. He shoved her away rather forcefully, quickly getting to his feet. Growling lowly, the purple dragon turned away from his equine companion, pulling on the many wires still attached across his body. The mare, stunned, didn’t know what she had did wrong. Spyro kept his back to her, only the subtle shaking in his scarred limbs alerting her to the fact that something was off with her usually calm draconic friend. Lifting a hoof uncertainly took more effort than she cared to admit. She knew well enough that despair could cause those afflicted by it to lash out, she didn’t quite fancy being accidentally cut to ribbons by his claws. Spyro flinched the moment her hoof made contact with his shoulder. Sighing, the dragon drooped down, tension leaving his body once he flopped back onto his haunches. Twilight cast him a small, sad smile. She couldn’t claim to understand what his sorrow felt like, however it didn’t take a genius to know that he was upset with himself for the display of weakness, something she herself could sympathize with. “This sucks.” He said simply, frowning and wiping his eyes. There was defeat in his lilac irises, a resigned appearance about them. “I want to help you, Spyro. I really do.” The mare tried to console, but was unsure how to. “You can’t. Let’s just get on with this test and forget about her for now.” He turned back to her, giving her a glance from the corner of his eyes. She knew that look, one that told her she shouldn’t push right now. “Alright, I understand. Well, just hang there for a moment, let me prepare that last few things.” He nodded, sitting back on his rump and fiddling with his claws. Giving the weary dragon one last sad glance that he didn’t see, Twilight walked back across the room, over to a large machine with several gauges on it. Adjusting a knob on the side, the Alicorn flipped a switch next to a set of gauges, adjusting the machine’s preference to unnatural forms of magic. It’s purpose was to pick up on the exact magical layout running through the purple dragon’s body once convexity powered through him. She had a few guesses about what would occur, but she was basing on of what he had told her and what Rainbow had recounted. In reality she really did not have much to work with. Twilight gave him another glance, watching as he let a current of electricity run between his claws, the dragon himself just gazing lazily at the zigzagging flow of sparks. The machine next to her made no indication of the magical energy flowing through him. Good. That meant it was properly attuned. Or at least that’s what she was hoping. Pressing a button near the bottom of the large metal box, the mare moved to another part of the room, off to the side. It was smaller than the previous piece of machinery. This one was connected to the set of wires attached to the bored dragon sitting on the metal pallet. Expertly recalculating the aspects of the machine’s sensors, Twilight adjusted several knobs, tapping the gauges a few times, the needles wobbling once before going back to the still position there were in before. Nodding to herself, satisfied, Twilight returned to the larger box. Flipping a crack on the back, the machines both made a light pinging noise, a light on the tops of each box glowing a dim green. This caught the attention of Spyro, the easily amused dragon let the current dissolve from between his claws. Tapping the gauges once more, Twilight appeared satisfied with the state of her old gadgets, tapping the final button on the side of the large box. Moving up to the front, the Alicorn gave Spyro a grin, one that couldn’t hide her excitement. He gave her a blank stare. “Come on Spyro, lighten up won’t ya.” She pouted at him. The dragon raised a scaly brow, chuckling with a shake of his head. Standing back up, Spyro stretched his limbs and wings like a cat, wincing at the soreness lingering in his muscles from the prior weeks. “Alright, alright. I’ll bite, what is it you need me to do?” The mare smirked. That’s a bit more like it. “Yes, well, all you need to do is channel Convexity. Just act as if you were going to use it normally.” She explained the best she could. Trying to tell someone how to do something that innate was like trying to explain what the color red is. Thankfully, it seemed he understood. “So, use it, without using it. Got it.” He smirked and deadpanned. All Twilight could do was glare at him. “I’m gonna smack that smirk off your stupid face you overgrown reptile.” The mare grumbled while moving over and picking up a pen and several sheets of parchment. Spyro gave a heartfelt laugh at her response. Sitting down in front of the now calm-faced dragon, Twilight prepared her barriers, knowing well that this magic could cause more havoc than she wanted to take. “Okay, ready whenever you are.” She nodded at him. The dragon didn’t say anything, just staring into her eyes for a moment. His gaze was stern, unbreaking, and for a moment Twilight hesitated. Her own will to learn and experiment overcame her fear and she stared back into his lilac irises just as strongly. A momentary standoff occurred, with dragon and pony fighting a mental battle of strength. It took a moment of concentration, but Spyro broke first. Sighing and breaking his gaze, the dragon straightened up. Looking down at his equine companion, Spyro gave an almost imperceptible nod. The dragon kept his gaze locked onto hers, his lilac irises gaining a dim glow for a few seconds. Twilight nearly found herself hypnotized in that deep glow. Said glow mounted in strength and energy, the air vibrating in Twilight’s ears. Her fur was standing on end. Something was very off putting about the scent in the air. Metallic and bitter, it left a terrible taste on the mare’s tongue. There was a very unusual quality about his appearance now, particularly that of his main body scales. They were glowing. It was very slight, but there was a rising lilac mist emanating from his scales, steaming from horn to tail-tip. It lacked the malevolent aura of Discord, it’s mere presence commanding a respect only rivaled by Celestia. Twilight suddenly had a much deeper appreciation of just how dangerous her draconic friend could be. A simple whiff of this much potency was extraordinary, the raw power behind it was otherworldly and unnerving. She could feel the essence flowing off the dragon like a scent in the breeze, the heavy magical aura resonating in the Alicorn’s skull with frightening intensity. Although it was unbeknownst to her, the machines behind her drunken form began to scream their results into the air. If she had been in a proper state to pay attention, then she may have noticed that the dragon broke off her gaze to stare at the screeching metallic monster in the back of the room, spooked. It only lasted a few seconds in actuality, however it slowed her mind, giving the hyperactivity inside that skull ample time to process what she was feeling. Magic of this intensity was more often than not a breeding ground for trouble, though it didn’t have the chaotic hell that Discord possessed. There was a constrained show of force within the aura. Spyro’s Convexity sent a message of a rabid animal on a metal leash. It lacked the malevolent energy of Tirek. There wasn’t a purpose to destroy and conquer in greed. There was no intention of unrestrained death to all who opposed it. It was heavenly in the purpose of liberation, of gentle comfort and reconstruction, though the attuned mare could feel a more angry ability beneath its surface, though one heavily pushed beneath. There was no hiding like changeling magic. Chrysalis’s energy was distinct to Twilight in that it called out to those that paid attention, it virtually screamed deception. There was something inside Twilight that knew it the second she felt it. It wasn’t just that Cadance wasn’t acting right. She didn’t feel right. And despite the undertone below that angelic lilac pulse, the anger didn’t feel deceptive. It was very much different than the chaotic energies that those three other unique beings had possessed. This heightening pulse of magic was seraphic and celestial on a level rivaling that of Equestria’s leaders themselves. In a way, Twilight wanted the feeling to never end, for it was ecstasy. Like a snap of fingers, the light cut off, the pulses stopped. For a moment the mare was stunned, overcome with an urge to beg for it to be turned back on. It had to come back, she couldn’t live without it! Twilight nearly collapsed, knees suddenly quaking. Inner strength and intuition beat back the odd emotions with the force of a sledgehammer. She kicked it back strongly with a grimace. Twilight could certainly feel that pull, a pull that may have turned another pony delirious had they been exposed to Convexity in the intimate way she just had. Spyro’s voice broke the disorientated mare from her trance. “There was a reason I was hesitant to use that. Outside of combative uses it can get a little….intense.” He frowned, watching her struggle with a disgruntled expression. It spoke of mild concern, that and a hint of indignation. Shaking her head roughly didn’t do much to quell the disturbing sensations still bouncing around her nerves, but it did help her form words in a more reasonably clear manner. “You weren’t lying, that’s for sure.” Twilight slurred slightly, stammering the words unclearly. Sitting back, the mare groaned and brought a hoof to her aching skull. Pressing her fetlock to the center of her skull, she cast a spell quickly, forking over her rather ineffective barriers. Head starting to spin considerably less, Twilight got up from her seated position, trotting sluggishly over to the far back metal construction. Slapping her hoof against a lever on the side, she ripped a sheet of paper out of the socket it quickly dropped from. Something strange happened this time, an effect the bleary Alicorn had failed to notice when relieving the migraine. It was rather hard to miss, its presence making known when her horn lit up. The force at which she applied the telekinesis was much stronger than she had intended it to be. Pausing, she stared down at the paper, mouth a tight line, brows knit in concentration. Quickly adjusting her hold on the paper, the Alicorn caught herself almost ripping the page apart, a narrow crack in the top of the thick parchment the only indication that something was amiss. Spyro caught her slightly alarmed gaze, noticing the crease in her forehead. Her amethyst eyes were glowing with a glint of concentrated bafflement. Something had just creeped her out, something she was currently running calculations in her mind at speeds that would make most heads spin. The dragon was often more perceptive than he let on, however, and he knew something was up. She didn’t respond to the first call of her name, instead firmly staring at whatever was on that sheet. Now he was worried. It wasn’t unusual for the mare to zone out, lost in her own world, that the male knew. That wasn’t the issue, the issue lied in her body language. Locked jaw, tightly clenched muscles, fur standing on end, and a persistent look of unease locked in her eyes. “What is it Twilight?” He questioned firmly. No response, not even a glance from the page. “Hey!” He barked, concerned. This time he got a reaction, the mare looking up from the page with a start. She looked way to unnerved, it was creeping him out too. It was fairly evident that her magic and the way this world worked was still foreign to him. Needless to say he didn’t like being left in the dark, especially not anymore. Spyro knew what the stakes were, in fact according to the stunned mare in front of him it was really the only reason they were messing around with Convexity in the first place. “It’s nothing, just a bit zoned still.” She lied weakly. Spyro shook his head firmly, eyes never straying from hers as he clucked his tongue. “Ah ah ah, don’t gimmie that shit. I know that look.” Twilight gulped, knowing that this wasn’t going to slip by him any easier than it would her if the roles were swapped. Sighing, she plodded over to him. The hypothesis was rough, but she already had it formed in her head. Leaning back against the wall to his left, she ignored the nearly paranoid was about which he was holding himself. Glancing down at the torn document, Twilight, laid it down carefully beside her. Once more, she eyed him warily. “What did you do different this time?” He appeared momentarily bushwhacked by the question, eyes widening. Quickly his gaze became guarded. “What do you mean.” His tone was slightly defensive, eyes never breaking contact with hers. “You can’t hide this! I know for a fact that you did something different this time.” She pointed a hoof at him, snout scrunching. The dragon narrowed his hard eyes at her, jaws shut. “Look, I know this is an uncomfortable area for you, but that wasn’t like how you described Convexity to me.” He didn’t say anything for a second, gaze just as hard. It took a few seconds, but if by chance, the collected look in his ally’s eyes broke his gruff exterior. Frowning with a soft gaze, he shuffled shamefully. “I can’t show you what you want to see Twilight.” He broke his gaze, staring at his paws in humiliation. She didn’t respond, waiting for him to continue, a patient smile on her face. At least she was getting through to him. “There wasn’t anything to show you.” “What do you mean? What you just did-” She lifted his chin up with a hoof, giving him a firm stare. “-Wasn’t nothing!” She tried to reassure him, but he wasn’t having it. Spyro shook his head resoundingly, eyes clenched. “That’s not what I meant! It’s just that-” He cut himself off suddenly, bringing a paw to his mouth with a hard grimace. Letting out a tight breath, the dragon’s voice came out much more smoothly. “There is nothing, and I mean nothing to show of Convexity other than destruction and death.” Spyro was stone faced, the words coming out with the lightest of trembles. The Alicorn wasn’t quite sure what to say, the conviction in his voice was set. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. When she didn’t respond, he hung his head shamefully, averting his eyes to the side. “That’s not true….” She herself was unsure, thinking back to the Everfree the night she had returned. It was easy to believe that all this power could do was destroy, but there was a part of her that fully believed in her draconic charge, one that had witnessed something truly special naught a minute ago. “If it was, then what do you call what you just showed me?” “That wasn’t a real applicable use of it, was pretty much just me letting the energy flow....” He didn’t adjust his head, still rather downtrodden. “Convexity manifests as destruction, with virtually no exceptions.” “That may not be true.” Twilight spoke cryptically, averting her eyes. Spyro found his attention turned towards her, curiosity lifting his mood a slight bit. “Oh yeah? Do tell.” Spyro, stony, mumbled. Looking through his brows up at the mare, he kept his mouth a straight line. “You caught onto it earlier, I doubt you’ve forgotten it.” He kept his eyes half-lidded, looking at her, expressionless. “You’d be right.” “Well, whatever you did there made me act….strange.” He raised a brow. “Whatever that was, it was damn near euphoric for me and made my magic act up.” Spyro kept one of his scaly brows raised. “Acting up? You’re witchcraft looked to be working fine from here.” Ignoring his blatant poke at Equestrian magic, Twilight continued. “It didn’t stop working, honestly I’m not quite sure what happened. I think it upped the sensitivity quite a bit.” “Why exactly is that relevant?” He was clueless, but that was to be expected. Twilight had a way in mind that it would be useful, but needed the best way to explain it to him. “Think about it this way: imagine that your elements suddenly became much more complex when around my magic. What if your ability to morph it and shape it in different ways rapidly became much easier to to do, much quicker?” His eyes widened, jaw gaping slightly at the implications. Twilight smirked. “Now you see it, that’s why Convexity may be critically important here for the future.” Spyro’s eyes darted around for a moment. Raising a paw to his chin, the dragon looked conflicted. In his own mind, he disliked the idea of needing to become a battery of Convexity for the magic that these ponies used. It’s ties to Malefor already made him wary enough, and he wasn’t sure he like the idea. On the other claw, if he could help increase the quality of life for the people of the nation that was sheltering him….well there was no debate on that. He wanted to help, it was in his blood, it was just that he didn’t fully trust the maverick element to bend the way they needed it too. “Are you sure that’s how it works?” He still felt skeptical, very much so in fact. “I’m not positive and I’ll still going to review whatever relevant data from the sheets-” She spoke while ripping off the pads still stuck to his scales, folding them carefully back into the machines on either side of him. “-but I’m fairly confident that that’s what it did.” “Hmm…” He looked a bit lost in thought, mauve orbs glazing over. “Would you mind running another test or two?” The question broke him from his reverie, eyes darting to meet her own. Catching the hesitant startle in his body, she quickly amended. “Not now of course, I’ll cut you loose in a moment.” Still appearing rather hesitant, he thought for a moment, body going rigid and still. After a moment of thought, Spyro seemed to make up his mind. Sucking a tooth, Spyro gave her a light slap on the shoulder. “Why not, I guess it couldn’t hurt.” The drake had a small smirk plastered on his muzzle. Grinning excitedly, Twilight hurriedly collected the second sheet from the machine on the far back, this time her magic returning to normal upon usage. Trotting back up to her draconic companion with the papers tucked away at her side under a feathered wing, the mare gave him a genuine smile. “I know you really didn’t want to do this, but I just want you to know how thankful I am that you came along.” He mumbled modestly, rubbing at one arm with the other. “All of this will end up well, I promise.” Spyro didn’t say a word. The male kept his eyes plastered to the side. Knowing the conflict raging under his scales right now hurt her, but it pained her more to know that what would be a storybook ending for her would be just the beginning for Spyro. He kept a straight face regardless, hiding the pain under years of training. “I really hope you’re right Twilight. I really do.” Without another word, Spyro headed for the door, head high. Keeping each step resolute and strong, the male didn’t let the conflicting emotions deep inside change him. Each single step was forced forward without hesitation. “Spyro.” He stopped mid step, turning his head to stare at her out of the corner of his eye. “Watch the door, I know you have a problem with those.” She gave him a dopey grin, a snicker practically bleeding off her words. Spyro smiled toothily, giving the Alicorn a fake salute. “Whatever you say you big purple clutz.” Twilight had turned with her own smile before the door had even finished closing behind his tail. Now to the fun part. Running her eyes down the sheets of parchment, Twilight began to make sense the story the documents were telling her. Each page had a specific purpose, about four in total. Page one told of the raw structure of what made of Convexity. Highly energetic lines of negative energy that wasn’t as paradoxical to the structure of his other elements. In fact it was nearly identical in many aspects. It was applied and projected in the same way for one. The defined structure was laid out in a long word, one that most would find hard to pronounce. Go figure. Page two outlined what the machines had picked up from Convexity upon its appearance. It came from a deeper part of the dragon’s core, its point of origin far deeper in him than the other four she had tested. Oddly, it didn’t match the others in where it came from. The others were organized at nearly opposite sided of his core. Convexity on the other hand was stationed at the very deepest part, its influence exerting throughout. That was puzzling. Twilight got a very odd feeling she had stumbled upon something not even Spyro himself knew about. It appeared that Convexity was much deeper a part of Spyro than he realized. A much, much deeper part. Page three detailed the interaction with baser forms of Twilight's magic, specifically the barriers she conjured when he had begun to manifest the aether energy that was Convexity. Amid the lines of detailed diagrams and myriads of complex vocabulary, something stuck out immediately. Her magic wasn’t eliminated in a surge of force like when she had collided with Tirek's distorted magic. Convexity amplified the strength of hers, illustrating as enhanced sensitivity. In essence, Convexity was a steroid for her own magic, Twilight felt her knees go weak at the revelation. Something like this was unprecedented. Harnessing that would practically, double a pony’s potential if appropriately used. The Alicorn mare suddenly got the feeling that she had made a life changing discovery, something that she would be forever remembered for. This was the cure for everything that could hurt a pony. Lives could be saved before they were lost! Tragedy could be prevented at the drop of a hat! This was incredible. Page four. An analysis of Convexity’s interaction on chaos and unknown magic. The page was mostly blank save for one thing. A small diagram at the bottom showing its interaction with the small samples of condensed Discordian magic sitting in a bottle on the desk in the corner of the room. While unicorn and Alicorn magic had generally no effect on Chaos magic, it made over reliance on the Elements of Harmony a certainty, one that Twilight had been trying to fix for years. It was not so much to keep Discord on a leash, but moreso to stop threats that relied on the magic he bled into the world and other dimensions. Twilight had felt that same magic in the Soothsayer, albeit much more raw than Discord’s. The Alicorn mare had been sweating over her own inability to even damage it’s form as it seemed immune to everything. Spyro’s base elements hadn’t even dented it either, only Convexity showing to be effective. Well, this diagram was interesting. It showed Convexity  destroying itself and the Chaos energy. But, it wasn’t just that. It jeopardized it. The element inside it that restricted their magic from making a dent was neutralized. It made it vulnerable to hers and Spyro’s magic. Twilight nearly fainted on the spot, the parchments slipping to the floor in a pile. It felt like instinct, but Twilight found her gaze drawn towards the west, where behind a wall of crystal and a village full of ponies, it lied waiting. The window had been opened. There would be no quarter. > Ouroboros > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Honestly, she was surprised she could even stand. More than that, she was still a bit surprised that death hadn’t come, prepared to take her to whatever hell awaited her. It seemed that she had cheated the system a bit too much by this point. Something had to give eventually. Maybe it was waiting, biding its time until the dragoness felt safe, secure. Such instances had happened before; faded memories of hollow nights spent scared and alone in a pit of despair; a hopeless nightmare she couldn’t escape from. More so than that, perhaps the simple fact of the matter was that she wasn’t ready to die yet. Even in her young life the dragoness had seen more than enough, far more than enough. Even in the darkest of hours, nothing had been able to keep the weasel of self-preservation from giving her a slim escape route in the way of a quick blow to the throat, a slash of claws to sever tendons in a knee, or the barest of opportunities to blow poison into an opponent's lungs. There was always a way out. No exceptions. Smirking a bit, Cynder added as an afterthought. “Seems that streak isn’t ending anytime soon.” Her inner tirade was prematurely clipped, a sharp glint of tension running down her side. Grunting and clenching a talon over the afflicted area with a sharp growl, Cynder felt a spark of billowing shadows escape her clinched muzzle. Adjusting her posture slightly, the dragoness closed her eyes for a bit, letting the accumulated shadows disappear into the dimly lit room. Ivory claws scraping wood lightly, Cynder carefully rolled onto her belly. Ignoring the sharp protests her body made at the straining of ripped muscles and tendons, she forced her belly right. The constant inaction made her shudder. A nervous energy being ever present in her actions, Cynder tapped her claws fervently. If the antsy dragoness’s wings hadn’t been wrapped and secured so tightly, she would have stretched them hard enough to crack bones. As it was, she was grounded. Weakness still permeated every inch of her scaled body, a shuddering temple in each muscle that made her teeth itch. Each day permitted the same rhythm to greet her. Wake up, eat a hot soup that, while tasty, had become so bland it nearly made her puke. Following that struggle, the overeager dragoness was forced to endure a near daily scolding as a result of a constant desire to stretch her aching limbs. Same old, same old. New injuries, same tired recovery process. Ignoring the faint creaking of her bones, Cynder pushed each weakened limb against the hardwood floor. Breathing steadily for the first time in what felt like months, the black dragon gave a toothy smirk with creased brows. Shakily raising a fabric-coated forearm, she was able to take one of her first full steps in several days. Grunting against the slight bite that entered her tired, battered muscles, Cynder pushed forward. Easing her way over to the closed door at the side of the room, the beaten dragon slid her talons around the handle. Before she could even tug, the door was pulled open from the opposite side. It took tremendous effort on Cynder’s part to not barrel over the person on the other side. Instead, the dragoness leaned back hard away from the swinging block of oak. A startled squawk penetrated the air from the other side, the noise moving in tandem with the dull thud of wood smacking against scale. Cynder, for her part, was mostly silent. Losing her footing momentarily, the oversized reptile flopped against the ground hard, grunting in discomfort. She missed the strange crackle in her senseless wings. White feathers dipped around the door, followed by a short yellow beak and a face of the same feathered coloration. The griffin’s large golden eyes found the dragon’s jade ones easily. Those eyes narrowed for the slightest of moments. With a sigh, the other female carefully shut the door behind her. A tense silence followed. Something twitched in Cynder’s muscles, the familiar anxious buzzing in her brain. The griffin's beak was drawn tight, gold eyes staring her down. The moment broke when the hen closed her eyes and shook her head. Cynder flinched, drawing her tail around defensively. Her opposite paid the blade a quick glance, the dragoness catching the carefully hidden break in posture. “You ripped your bandages.” The griffin stated simply, in a bored tone of voice. Cynder blinked. That… wasn’t quite what she had been expecting. Raising a scaly brow, the dragon regarded her torn fabrics with a snort. Pushing a set of aching limbs under her, Cynder got back to her feet. The hen regarded her with an unimpressed look. Standing shakily, Cynder eyed the other female with an equally unamused glance. Staring her straight in the eye, Cynder raised a paw. Without hesitation she slashed down one of her bandaged sides. Vision never straining, the fabrics fell from the black-scaled dragoness’s body. A tense moment followed, the griffin’s brow rose steadily. The moment quickly passed. Snorting in laughter once, the hen hid her beak behind a hard talon. Continuing to snicker, the avian turned around, setting something she had been holding across her wings to the floor. Cynder’s curious gaze followed the movement, leaning her head to the side with an inquiring grunt. Still silently mirthing at her opposite, the griffin turned back around and trotted over to the dragoness. “Ballsy,” she said. “I like that. Name’s Gilda.” It just occurred to the dragoness that Gilda lacked the same throaty accent her mother had. There was a certain harshness lying behind her words, something most wouldn’t have picked up on. Cynder knew her type: slightly narcissistic. “C-Cynder.” The word hurt to say, a feeling reminiscent of sandpaper being smeared across her esophagus. Gilda, to her credit, hid the grimace at the dragoness’s hoarse, gravelly timbre. Cynder caught the look easily, and felt a frown form on her muzzle. That hurt. The griffin lifted a claw into the air, holding it outward. Her movement looked forced. Cynder could tell that the griffin wasn’t scared of her, but there was some nervous energy in the avian’s body language. A slight twitch in her feathers across restrained wings. The most subtle of movements in her legs. She was nervous, though she wasn’t scared. The former child-soldier wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Also, what in the name of the Ancestors was she doing? Jade eyes peered at the extended claw with a mix of curiosity and barely concealed suspicion. Gilda seemed to catch on to the dragoness’s confusion. Coughing once awkwardly, the griffin dropped her claw. “Uh… nevermind.” Scratching at her beak idly, Gilda looked like she had something else to say but chose against it. Casting her eyes anywhere but the piercing jade ones staring at her intently, the griffin looked a bit anxious, an odd break from the established behaviour. Cynder realized, with a start, that her own body language was being quite hostile. Claws bared hard against the floor; tail tightly wrapped around her side. Her wings… well, they didn’t react at all. That thought came to the forefront of her mind quickly, superseding all other thoughts. Whipping her head back fast enough to make bones along the vertebrae crack ominously, Cynder stared at her tattered and scattered wings. For the most part, the phalanges were heavily covered in gauze. The particularly sensitive regions of the carpus were so heavily pressed and set that she couldn’t see or feel the blade at the end. Her eyes roamed over the splint holding two of her phalanges in place on one wing, and all of them on the other. Gasping weakly as she inspected the damage, Cynder’s mind whirled. Her time in corruption and enslavement had made her particularly acute to dragon anatomy. One constant thing stood out among those horrible years: dragons who had severe breaks in their wings remained grounded for the rest of their lives. With horrified mirth, a particularly twisted part of her mind laughed. All those interrogations, all the torture, seemed it had come full circle and grounded her. In her disturbed trance, she failed to notice Gilda slowly and earnestly walking over to her. Cynder flinched violently, snapping her head back to meet the eyes of the griffin. Breath coming in increasingly short bursts, Cynder attempted to fight back the terror beating at the door. Gilda’s expression had morphed. It still had the same chilly coolness resonating from early: a half-lidded look that spoke of an indifference to many things; however, the ice had thawed substantially. “They may still work, my mom said they may have a chance of being able to regain function if you train with them.” Cynder was skeptical at best, and she didn’t hesitate to vocalize with a gruff grunt. She wanted to hope, but the black dragoness knew better than most that life was far from fair, and there was no use in false hope. Speaking of which, Cynder was feeling more than a little achy at this point. The thick wrap of bandages and gauze around most of her black scales told her in no hidden terms that many bits of body were not quite aligned. “What… else?” It hurt to force the words out, but she needed to know. Gilda looked a bit confused for a second, but as Cynder gestured to her nearly mummified form, her meaning became quite clear. Nodding once with a noise of affirmation, the griffin quickly left the room. Her absence was short-lived as she quickly returned with a small piece of parchment in a talon. “I don’t know if draconic runes are anything like ours.” She handed over the paper to her opposite. “If you can’t read --” Gilda was cut off by a dismissive wave of a paw. The runes weren’t standard draconic, that’s for sure. What was strange was that they were written nearly identical to those used by apes. Cynder, unsurprisingly, knew the language well. As her eyes scanned the paper, apprehension grew in her gut. A long list of injuries, most severe, dotted the length of the parchment. In between each diagnosis was a sentence describing treatments and recoveries from each. They did not sound pleasant. “By the ancestors… how am I even alive?” Broken left Femur, both arm Ulnases shattered, bruised Ilium and Scapula, twisted and sprained wing joints, substantial damage and breakage to Wing Phalanges on both wings, broken Carpus and sprained Metacarpus, and the list went on and on. Cynder very quickly became aware of the aches and pains across her form. The casts and gauze suddenly seemed much tighter. Gulping hard, the black dragoness shakily handed the parchment back to Gilda, who was giving her a grimacing frown. “Gotta say though, hell of a recovery you’ve made so far.” A somewhat dark look settled over her features. “I’m glad.” Gilda’s beak twitched, causing Cynder to narrow her eyes. The dragoness didn’t press her suspicion, deciding to take one of the lessons from that nightmare she caused in the dungeons. Instead, an awkward silence followed for a moment. Cynder, hoping to prompt an answer, flashed her eyes red for the slightest of moments. The manipulative probe did it’s work, worming its way into Gilda’s mind, furthering the anxiety building within the hen’s stomach. She couldn’t hide the devious smirk that flashed across her scarred muzzle as the anxious, twitching Gilda began to exhibit. That’s what made her tick huh? Higher the pride, longer the fall. “What...what’s the problem?” Cynder probed, watching as the griffin’s eye twitched rapidly. Gilda averted her eyes, blushing madly, “N-nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gilda’s version of a poker face wasn’t exactly doing wonders on the perceptive dragon, only egging on her curiosity even more. “Come on… spill it already.” The scratchy, raspy voice made the griffin wince slightly, and resulted in yet another poorly conceived denial about the nature of her immense blush and stuttering voice. “Cut the interrogation, dragon.” Gilda’s voice took on a note of unconvincing hostility, one which Cynder saw right through. Grinning slightly, Cynder took the opportunity to poke a little bit at the stubborn hen. “Fine, fine, I’ll back off, just humor me this. Solve a problem for me.” While her posture remained guarded and defensive, Gilda’s voice lost some of it’s edge. Lowering her feathered head to the ground a bit, Gilda peeked under her eyebrows at the grinning dragon. “What kind of problem, exactly?” Cynder’s claws clicked on the wooden floors in barely contained excitement. The griffin couldn’t help but feel like indulging this particular side of new found acquaintance was a dangerous and flammable idea. “A riddle, one that I myself can’t seem to answer. Or can I?” Cynder’s raspy voice lowly growled out in mirth, watching in innocent amusement as the griffin rolled her eyes. “Why am I even surprised a dragon would like riddles.” Gilda grumbled and sat back, eyes half lidded. “If you can’t answer correctly, you tell me all that’s rolling around in that head of yours.” Cynder cut her statement early, already expecting Gilda’s follow up question. “And if I win?” “I’ll drop the topic completely. Never bring it up again.” Gilda gave the dragon a long hard stare. Sensing some kind of deception in those piercingly sharp jade irises did little to quell the competitive spirit clawing around within the griffin. “Alright, hit me.” Cynder grinned harder. “I can fly yet have no wings. I beat down mountains, I conquer kings. At once three different things am I, as a continuous whole, I cannot die.” Silence followed the cryptic riddle. Gilda was stone still, mind whirling around in her head. Cynder from her own vantage was now surprisingly devoid of mirth, sitting stoic across from the multicolored avian, genuinely curious if her on the spot riddle would be solved. Over the next few seconds Gilda’s expression remained unchanged, her eyes glazed over as she collapsed deep in thought. The ticking of a clock could almost be heard over the patter of rain as the time passed. Each second proved more and more difficult for the dragon to stand, and she found herself becoming increasingly antsy for an answer. The patter of rain against the room almost began to fall in sync with the passing moments. When finally Cynder could take no more did Gilda’s beak open. However instead of a ridiculous answer, Cynder received one that made her flinch. “Anger.” Gilda became distant for a moment, seemingly lost in her own world. “It’s something that destroys everything, friendships, kingdoms, everything.” Gilda’s voice nearly broke near the end, something that Cynder had to strain to catch. “While, that’s more thoughtful than I expected, that’s incorrect. It’s time.” Gilda seemed to break from her momentary lapse in character. Cursing to herself, the avian cast her gaze downward. Frowning, Gilda appeared more downcast than before. “Hey, a deal’s a deal.” Cynder pushed gently, attempting to not further aggravate the upset griffin more than she had already. Feeling slightly remorseful for pressing the nerve, Cynder started to try and subtly move the conversation away from that. “Look Gilda, I’m not trying to hurt you, I just think if whatever you’re gonna say involves -- ” A wet cough and raspy grinding sensation interrupted the dragon’s statement. The violent hacking moved Gilda a bit from her lingering despondence. “ -- Sorry. If it involves me, which I’m getting the feeling it does, I’d like to know about it.” “Listen…” Gilda stammered, an uncomfortable grimace crossing her features. “I… I need your help and I really wish I didn’t.” Cynder faltered, her muzzle and eyes twitching in the low flickering lamp-light. The hen couldn’t quite work her jaw again. The black-scaled dragoness got an odd sense of déjà vu, like she was looking into a cracked mirror with someone else watching right back. A twisting, writhing sense of turmoil wormed its way into the dragoness’s gut, threatening to foul her mood into the ground. All she could think of right now was how to get back to Spyro, to make sure he was alright, a fear that was virtually consuming her more and more by the minute. Cynder could practically feel each scale on her body crawling, craving to know where her partner was. Each moment was elegic, a shifting desert that was threatening to suffocate her under its weight. Despite that, she held her ground as best she could, keeping her sharp emerald irises focused on the nervously darting gold ones in front of her. Pushing the worry as far back into her mind as possible, Cynder tried to show the best of focus on the antsy female in front of her, who at the moment was averting her eyes and fiddling with her claws. Snapping her claws together once, Cynder caught the eyes of her temporary companion once more. “What… what do you need?” Just as the words squeaked out of her throat, the dragoness broke into a violent coughing fit, seeming as if the extended conversation was breaking down her healing throat. Bringing a paw to her throat and one to her maw, Cynder hid the most brutal of hacks, the occasional hiccup of noise slipping through. The fit lasted nearly thirty seconds, which by the end left her feeling rather lightheaded. “...Maybe you need it more than I do….” Gilda gave her a slightly uneasy glance, to which Cynder returned with a harsh grunt of disapproval. The griffin seemed hesitant to continue on, however Cynder was able to coax it out of her with a few more slurred words and guttural noises. Gilda gave the dragon a long, hard stare, taking in every detail of her form. The sharper claws, the more numerous fangs. Everything about this creature spoke “predator”. This was only accented by the fact that her scales were marred with a large array of scars and malformed cuts and bruises. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was very much a different breed than the rest of the dragons the griffin had encountered. As it stood, Gilda was desperate, very desperate. While she trusted the other female about as far as she could throw her, her help would be invaluable. She would have to take a chance here. “My family… they… may be in danger.” Cynder stared at her for a quick second as the griffin fumbled over her words. Following a prompting paw, Gilda sighed heavily and knit her eyebrows. It seemed Rainbow’s lessons had only helped her so much; still took one hell of an effort to ask for help. “Listen, you’re a soldier right?” Gilda blurted out, cheeks burning slightly in embarrassment. Cynder doubled back for a moment, flinching hard. The dragoness checked herself momentarily, but eventually nodded lightly, averting her eyes. The dragoness’s claws flexed nearly on their own accord, scratching lightly against the wooden floors. Gilda’s implications weren’t hard to draw, but it still gave the black dragoness a shudder to really think of how obvious that conclusion was. “Well, my dad used to be… and… oh how do I put this --” Gilda snarled at herself roughly, drawing a brow-raise from the other female. “Let’s just say he didn’t leave the military on the best of terms.” Cynder’s brow furrowed. What exactly was the griffin implying here? Was the gnarled male she had only met once before some kind of traitor? She hadn’t the longest interaction with him, however he seemed a bit prideful, definitely not the kind. “I’ve kept my heritage secret from those within the government of our people, it was mostly my father’s doing, his twisted idea of keeping me safe.” Gilda scoffed lowly, cutting her sentence off for a moment. Cynder sat patiently, waiting for exactly where this concerned her. “Why… me?” Cynder’s hoarse, scratchy voice cut the thick air like a knife. “I’m getting to that. The few connections I have in the capital are close to the military, and they are aware of who my father is. They told me that the King’s spies had found my father’s home.” Cynder’s jade irises sparkled in alarm and her pupils widened. The very house they stood in now. “Griffins don’t look kindly on traitors and deserters. They will kill my father if they find him.” A terrified glint appeared on Gilda’s expression for a split second. Cynder couldn’t pretend to understand that fear, fear of your parents being killed. Her only family was Spyro now. “Just run.” The words tasted strange on Cynder’s tongue, almost like acid. Gilda rolled her eyes and gave a defeated huff. “That won’t be enough anymore, I can’t risk this happening if I’m not around to stop it. My dad is too old to fight anymore, he would be slaughtered.” The dragoness felt her stomach churn slightly. As little as she knew these griffins, they had saved her from death, she owed them a debt. “Then what’s your --” Cynder was momentarily cut off by a terrible bout of wet coughing. A talon grasping at her throat, she nearly keeled over as the fit left her lightheaded. “What’s your plan?” The words burned. “The military is wide, they can only deal with so many matters at once. My father isn’t top priority, but they will get to him eventually.” Gilda pointed a claw across at the dragoness. “Destroy the records they have on him and that should get rid of the intrigue without them even realizing.” Without even realizing it, the black dragoness had been poking holes in Gilda’s plan. “You’re not a soldier, and something about those wings tells me you’re not the fastest griffin.” As expected, Gilda squawked in indignation. Gilda couldn’t help but stutter quietly for a quick moment, stopping and scratching her beak idly while averting her gaze from those ever glowing jade pools. While initially skeptical of Cynder’s particularly strong sense of truth from deception, Gilda was more than a little caught of guard by her perceptiveness. Thankfully for the avian, the injured dragon didn’t seem completely immune. “Well… that’s kind of the point. I can’t fight well, but I believe you can.” Cynder’s brow raised further at the bold statement, sensing something in her words she couldn’t quite discern yet. Before she could voice this, Gilda continued. “Come on, with those scars I saw on you, that can only mean one thing.” “And what would that be?” Cynder growled defensively, not liking the direction this conversation was heading by any means. “You get beat around a lot, but you haven’t been killed. Either you’re stupidly lucky, or you kill everything before it kills you. I’d like to believe the latter is true.” Gilda’s gold irises gleamed in amusement at the somewhat stupefied look on the dragon’s face. Despite the blush coloring her scales almost imperceptibly, Cynder was impressed. She hadn’t yet presumed the griffin to be foolish or ignorant, but this proved yet more confirmation at just the opposite. Although slightly blindsided by the almost devious way Gilda took pleasure in surprising her, Cynder quickly masked her expression. “I guess I’ll have to give you that one. I get the feeling I know where you’re going with this.” Cynder sighed, lowering her aching form to the ground, hiding a groan as a particular twinge ran down her spine. Gilda nodded once, going silent for several moments. “I hate to ask you of this, I honestly do, but there’s not really anyone else I can turn to. I’d like to say we could just run and hide, but… but that’s no way to live.” Gilda shivered uncomfortably. Cynder was nearly tempted to feel sympathy for this mysterious griffin, but she hadn’t quite opened herself up that much yet. Swallowing hard, the dragon thought for a moment. This would be a trip alright, one that would delay her return to Spyro by several months at least. There would be no way for her to reach him, that she knew. However, Cynder’s guilt laden mind simply couldn’t allow the charity of this family of avians to go unanswered. Her connection in this was one that demanded no recourse on her part, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her part to play in this may be important, more so than she had yet to realize. “Alright, only because I owe this to you and your family. I won’t leave you in the dark.” Cynder sighed once more. “How far away is this place?” “At least two weeks flight. At worst, three or four.” Cynder winced at that number. This was under the implication she would even be able to fly. The dragon saw fit to bring this to light. “Implying that it takes me a month to heal, and if I can even fly, this is a three or four month round trip. If you’re running on a clock are you sure we can push that?” The griffin was silent for several moments, her face not moving. An awkward silence passed, an uncomfortable feeling entering Cynder’s gut. Was she right to take this prospect? Was this an ally she could rely on? Gilda didn’t have her thinking that for very long. “If you can’t fly, we should be able to avoid the walk by taking… a less conventional route. The mountains are the reason a ground trip would take months, but I do know there is a way through.” “A safe one?” “Define safe.” the griffin deadpanned. Cynder resisted the urge to growl. Stemming her temper before it could lash like an angry snake was quite the process, she hated to admit. “It’ll have to do, time isn’t exactly an ally.” Gilda nodded once, silently. With a quick shake of her head Gilda walked back to the door. Stopping for a quick moment, Gilda waited before turning back. Tension visibly raced along her spine for a split second. The griffin kept this way for a few more seconds before turning her head slightly. In a tone of voice that Cynder hadn’t heard in a very long time, griffin remarked to her an unassuming statement. “You’re different.” The griffin stated simply, before pushing past the door slowly, the wood creaking lowly and ominously for the briefest of moments. Before the latch could click back over the heavy wooded structure, Cynder caught the last fragments of a mumbled statement. “....Ouroboros, hun er din skaperverket.” Cynder wasn’t sure what to make of that. Without another word, the dragon returned to her nest of blankets, flopping down slowly with a pained moan. Curling her bladed tail around her still heavily bandaged form, the near mummified dragon pulled the blade closer, resting it almost against the tip of her snout. Outside, unbeknownst to her, the storm began to rage. -------- > I Can't See, I Can't Breathe > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Waters of chaos have invaded all space. She scrambled for breath but couldn’t find traction below the bellowing crash of the ocean. The normally bright sea was now a deep, ominously dark trench that continued to suck her further and further into it’s haunting depths. Above the surface, a faint light shone through the murky waters, a blinking shimmer of hope that she couldn’t yet reach. Her struggles were in vain for she couldn’t break away from the current dragging her beneath the waves. High in the sky, the clustering clouds grew ever in size, trembling with unnatural claps of thunder. Lightning split the sky in waves of brief but horrendously powerful surges. The very sky itself quaked under the massive burst of sound and light, shaking the heavens themselves. Sinking further and further, the figure continued to vanish into the dark depths. Bubbles, nearly invisible in the wretched sea filtered to the surface, washing away quickly in the storm. A flash of lightning briefly lit up the sky, illuminating the twisting ocean below. More and more the storm continued to rage swallowing up the sky, eating the world. Back down below, each and every second grew more and more panicked, lashing and thrashing around in terror. Her body began to weaken, growing further tired with each moment of thought-choking chaos. With less rational effort, her struggles began to cease. With one last pitiful attempt to free herself of the current, she was finally swallowed totally and completely by the monstrous depths of the endless ocean. In her dying breath, the figure had a single thought. “Who am I?” As her life faded away, the scenery completely changed. Inside the thunderous storm clouds, the monstrosity that was each clap of thunder lapsed into silence. Each cloud disappeared, filling the sky with a mirror of the very ocean beneath it. Silence replaced the booming claps of thunder, the hellish noise gone from all sight. Each instance of silence gave more foil to the once chaotic, drowning atmosphere. Within several seconds of the sudden shift in tone, the mood once again shifted its intent. A grey settled over the shining sun, clouding it behind a wall of static, horrendous sensations. The scene grew in intensity, the ocean gaining a life of its own, morphing and contorting into several unique, virtually indescribable shapes of non-euclidean ideals. However amongst the raw and tainted experience, a simple peaceful note broke through the villainous sounds of static, fog horns, and growling, furious waves. Off in the distance, a whale sung its song. Its call held one of supreme sorrow, a melancholic, deep tone. Below the sun, its form slowly, thunderously, made its presence known. Despite the chaos, the being continued on. It sang it’s note sorrowfully, trudging across the sky. Forever it would sail, the lone flying whale among an endless ocean planet…. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Gilda was quickly learning how hard solid dirt was. With a thud her body thumped against the ground, slumping slightly with a snort. Small particles of dust filtered up from around her lax form, sparkling in the low light of the setting sun. From somewhere behind her, a scratchy voice sighed resoundly, a note of veiled disappointment hidden within. Normally such a thing would have the proud griffin up in arms, firing off insults or threats at a near feverish pace. However, the events of the day had left Gilda somewhat drained of such uproarious attitude. Pushing her limbs under her, Gilda strained, an action the griffin was not very used to. Intense workouts were not something she was unaccustomed to, but there was a certain level of punishment that this black dragon was giving to her which she had yet to experience. Military combat was something she hadn’t as much practice with as some of the more zealous warmongers of her species. “You lost focus.” The voice spoke indifferently, a peculiar lack of tone coloring the words. If the previous indications had been accurate, Cynder was none to impressed with her newfound allie’s performance. “Yeah, I did.” Gilda shot back, equally colorless. Rolling back to her feet, Gilda kept her gaze trained onto the unforgiving ground she had become increasingly familiar with. Cynder stared at the griffin with a slightly sympathetic eye, sensing the rolling storm beneath her surface. The griffin’s beak was a simple line across her face, unease coloring every muscle of her form. “Listen, I can tell you’re stressed, but I’m trying to help you.” Gilda flinched slightly at the words. “I know that. It doesn’t make it any easier!” Gilda’s voice came out in a rough tone, echoing around the trees slightly. The dragon didn’t budge a scale at the angry reply “Then why do you not listen to me?” Cynder shook her head, a scowl approaching her features crossly. Likewise, Gilda stepped up to the challenge. “I can take care of myself! You don’t need to lay into me like this!” The griffin reached a feverish pitch, the stresses of constantly losing affecting her mindset a bit more than she would’ve realized earlier. Cynder grinned devilishly, eyes narrowing. Something about that sharp look was enough to send shivers down the normally aloof avian’s spine. “Then show me.” The simple declaration hung in the air like a sheet of dust, swimming in between the two with an increasing air of tension. Gilda’s claws absentmindedly tapped against the unforgiving ground while at the same time Cynder’s tail bladed thudded into the dirt, carving around for a moment. Moments passed between them, each action rendering the scene more and more ripe with unbridled pressure. Neither of the headstrong females were willing to budge, each waiting for the other to crack. A tiny gust of wind ruffled between the griffin’s feathers easing her in the face of this mountain of scales. At last, her backbone straightened out, a serpent made of bones rising to the call. Now or never. Quicker than she had ever moved before, Gilda flung herself forward, attempting to wrap her talons around her scaled adversary. Just as her claws were going to impact scale, a blur sped around her vision. Suddenly, one of her legs was jerked out from under her. Expecting something of the sort, the griffin maneuvered her body around, slipping away from the almost painful pressure of Cynder’s tail. Unfortunately, while Gilda was right to expect this move, the dragon happened to be a step ahead of her. Gilda’s slick movement had caused her balance on the opposite side become somewhat unstable, resulting in her opponent bring around a shoulder, bumping against her chest hard. Feeling a flash of anger surge within her, Gilda pressed back against the shoulder with every ounce of her strength. A somewhat pained gasp came from the form against her and Gilda pressed harder. The tail around her ankle loosened its grip, and the griffin, feeling the tide shifting slightly, stepped to it. Moving her clawed feet around rapidly, Gilda kicked the dragon’s tail away, shoving her away with renewed leverage. Spinning around and away from each other, the two parties skidded back several feet from one another. Gilda, though breathing hard, couldn’t help but grin after finally gaining some ground on her seemingly unbeatable opponent. Cynder, on the other claw, while not winded, felt slightly impressed at the griffin’s unexpectedly grounded counter. The scuffle had lasted scarcely over two seconds and despite that, Gilda had never felt a more exhilarating sense of combat. Her previous fights had been a contest of pure strength, and those stallions and griffins she had grappled with, those had been contests of strength. This dragon across from her, while not large, moved so much faster and with such staggering force that could believably crack stone, had been pushed back a peg. Gilda had never felt more accomplished in her life. “That was unexpected. I’m impressed.” Cynder’s voice took on a much darker note and her grinning teeth suddenly seemed much sharper. “Look out.” Just as Gilda’s brow lifted, the dragon was in her face. Gasping lowly, the griffin doubled back narrowly avoiding being sliced by the blade rocketing past her face. Ducking on instinct, she avoided Cynder’s bonecrushing pounce. Not having a second to think, Gilda stepped to the side, jutting the side of her body into what she predicted would be the dragon’s path. Her assumption was mostly accurate, and she was rewarded with a punishing blow to her side. Gritting her fangs at the heated sensation of claw rending flesh, Gilda spun back around fully. She caught the dragon mid roll, slipping a claw against her throat, breathing heavily. In the shade of the trees, Cynder’s scales blended together. Cynder went perfectly still, eyes burning right through like a beam of light. Grinning maniacally, Gilda laughed as she kept her claws on the upper half of the dragon’s choker. “Gotcha!” she exclaimed. Cynder raised a brow, moving for the first time in several seconds. “Are you quite sure?” Cynder’s voice basically smirked, and Gilda felt a weird sinking feeling within the pit of her stomach. She nearly jumped out her skin when the dragon suddenly vanished, leaving the griffin on the cold grass once again. A claw tapped her shoulder, and Gilda spun, wide eyed. Cynder’s face smirked down at her, relishing in her evident befuddlement. The griffin spluttered to herself, completely bewildered, eyes darting back to the spot where her target once laid. “W-what the Hel!” The griffin’s amber eyes shrunk, an evident fear gripping her belly viscously. Cynder’s smirk grew sharper, emeralds narrowing in predatory glee. Despite, the almost threatening language her face portrayed, the dragon was merely amused. “Don’t ask a magician their tricks.” Cynder shook her head, clicking her tongue in an almost motherly manner, a playful glint in her eyes. Gilda’s words failed her, simply letting her beak bounce up and down rhythmically. Fluttering her wings, Gilda pushed back the anger building in her throat, settling on a confused stupor. Attempting to shake off her building curiosity, the griffin shakily got back to her talons. Glaring at the dragon with a sideways mix of confusion and anger, Gilda moved away from their battleground a bit, gazing into the trees. “What was that?” The griffin turned quickly with a snarling expression. “Don’t lie to me! You’ve never done anything like that before.” Cynder balked a bit in the face of the sudden anger. However her expression quickly became guarded and tight. “Nothing you should be concerned about.” It had become clear from the conversations they had shared, albeit short, that her kind were not like equestrian dragons, namely the lack of elements. The dragon hadn’t quite figured out how to drop that bombshell yet. Cursing herself for indulging her devious nature and revealing herself, Cynder fought back just as sternly. “Just a neat little trick I learned back home.” Gilda apparently didn’t buy that, pointing a claw shakily at the dragon. “What you just did is something no dragon can do. Nothing can teleport except unicorns.” Cynder had to bite her tongue in explaining that she wasn’t quite teleporting, the griffin did raise a point. Even amongst other dragons, Shadow Walking was unnatural, a bending of firm natural laws. “It’s unique, not something magical in nature.” Her loosely constructed explanation did nothing to quell the burning curiosity inside her feathered companion. With eyes narrowed heavily into slits and a tensing display of body language, Gilda made a quick vocal jab. “Cut the act!” A suddenly ingenious idea flooded Gilda’s mind. She was going to make this dragon eat her words from that first meeting they had. “Let’s play a game, a game of riddles.” Gilda’s smirk deepened as she saw the flustered look enter the dragon’s muzzle. “Are you really gonna throw those cards at me?” Cynder questioned with a raised brow. “Yep, and you’re gonna reveal what you’re hiding in that, oh what did you call it, ‘rolling around in that head of yours.’” Cynder rolled her eyes, biting down a retort and falling back to her haunches, scratching idly at the metal choker around her neck, the metal baring many new scuffs and marks. Her claws caught on the firm gauze still wrapped around much of her body and she stilled her talons. She dared not invoke the wrath of the eldest female in the household. That hen is scarier than Cynder would be willing to admit. “Alright, I’m not gonna back down. Shoot.” Gilda’s smirk grew, a giddy feeling emerging in her gut. Baring a claw up to her chest dramatically, the griffin raised her head higher, perring down upon the near prone form of the dragoness. “If you see a bird sitting on a branch, how do you get the branch without disturbing the bird?” Gilda watched the dragon’s eye twitch violently once, a stupid grin smacking upon the her muzzle. “I’m gonna assume killing the bird counts as disturbing it.” Gilda was half tempted to slap that dumb grin off Cynder’s face. “Yes.” The griffin’s deadpan caused the dragon to chuckle softly. Leaning back for the slightest of moments, the dragon took on an inquisitive stance, raising a talon and dragging it slowly along the underside of her chin. Gilda wasn’t normally privy to her secretive companion’s thoughts, but for once in their relatively short time together, she had a vague idea of exactly what her draconic ally was thinking. Her mind seemed to be whirling around more outside of the box ideas, a mistake in which Gilda was well aware. Cynder’s eyes closed for a brief moment, her gaze lingering somewhere behind a curtain of black. With a gasp, the dragon’s eyes snapped back open, a fiery answer burning off her tongue. “You take another branch!” Cynder’s grin became vicious at the stunned look on the griffin’s face. “How did you…” she began to say, but then hesitated. “--Nah you were wrong.” Cynder’s triumphant smile faltered and she blinked rapidly for a second or two. Gilda had to truly hold in her laughter at the dragon’s expression, one of befuddlement and slight fury. “That’s just plain out devious.” Cynder stated pointedly, turning her nose up at the hen. However her semi-hurt expression morphed quickly to one of a proud and impressed nature. “I like it.” This reminded Gilda of Rainbow Dash in a way. She tried shoving the feeling aside before her heart began to ache. By Ghor she would not let that come back to haunt her. Not now. “By the way what was the answer?” The black dragon queried curiously, tilting her head and raising a brow. Gilda pondered whether or not to tell her, eventually settling on getting it over with. “Smoke.” The griffin stated simply, a monotone voice escaping her as the suppressed emotions for her old friend circled in her head. Cynder blinked, her face straightening in a moment. “Damn. And here I thought I was onto something.” The dragoness kicked a loose twig idly away, clearing her throat. “Are you sure you want the answers to these questions? You may not like what you hear.” Cynder warned with a final shaky breath. “If we’re gonna risk our lives, I need to be able to trust you. And you me.” The voice was stern,  but not harsh, echoing the sentiment of the face of it’s bearer, a note of resounding seriousness in her golden eyes. Cynder’s gaze found the griffin’s for several seconds, varying degrees of uncertainty and uncharacteristic nerves in the normally calm dragoness visage. Returning her look with a firm, but poignant demeanor of her own, Gilda shifted her weight, attempting to hide her discomfort. Uncertainty emmenated from the dragon, making Gilda herself squirm in discomfort. That look made her wonder idly if she really wanted to know; however, she shot down that sentiment immediately. An icy breeze of wind suddenly blew by, making her shiver down to her bones. “If you were to be told you were not alone in this universe, would you believe it?” Cynder’s expression morphed from shy uncertainty to a harsly pointed presence, echoing that question into the abruptly still clearing. Gilda’s blood ran cold. Surely that’s not what she was implying? A bitter laugh broke from the dragon’s throat. “It’s not exactly false, I’ll tell you that much,” Gilda was skeptical, but opted to at least let her companion explain herself. “The details aren’t important, at least not yet, but I don’t believe I come from here.” The griffin cocked a brow, but otherwise remained silent. When the dragon didn’t continue, she motioned with a claw. Cynder closed her eyes and shook her head. "I've never seen ponies before. I've never heard of Equestria before." Her eyes became somewhat glazed over, ignoring the skeptical brow raise from the griffin. Her next words were fumbled. "The dragon kingdom as it was called does not exist where I come from...." Cynder became nervous, fumbling with her claws and averting her eyes. It seemed her next few words were not ones of proud confidence. Gilda felt her hackles raise and twitch in anxiety, something about the headstrong, stoic dragoness fumbling so hard made her immensely nervous. “I control blacker forms of magic by my very nature. Namely, Shadow, Fear, Poison, and Wind.” Gilda became immensely uncomfortable at hearing such an admission. Had she befriended a witch, an alpha among sheep, or was that more of an omega? Throat tight as a vice, she was helpless to stop the dragoness from emptying this torrent upon her, instead merely attempting not to quake at the implications of these confessions. Black magic, witchcraft, voodoo. Such terms were almost taboo among her kind. Gilda had always been told such activities always followed a much darker path. “You’re a witch?” Gilda’s voice squeaked out, nearly inaudible. Cynder jolted violently, fear arcing across her spine. That wasn’t something she had been called in a long time, and regardless it sent a distressing crawl into her gut. “No… It wasn’t my choice to be bound to such, it was forced upon me!” Her slightly panicked defense didn’t dissuade the griffin any less, only seeming to build the tense divide between them. “You’re one of them.” Gilda’s tense, grim face made Cynder’s heart wrench violently. She hadn’t envisioned sharpeing such a line between them with this, only maybe scaring her a bit. However despite her best intentions, the griffin continued to back away steadily. “Gilda please! I’m not going to hurt you!” The dragoness’s alarmed cry was filled with pain and insecurity. Cynder’s distressed voice garnered no remorse from the griffin, her head too clouded by fear and prejudice. Somewhere within the confines of Gilda’s mind did a voice speak out in the dragoness’s defense, however it was massively overshadowed by firm social and familial warnings and all sorts of red flags being waved. Suddenly, the once mysterious dragoness seemed far, far more frightening and unnatural. “I’m… I’m not evil, I swear.” Cynder curled her tail around herself, head drooping defensively as she noticed the building alarm in her friend, watching her eyes widen and her breathing quake. “I’m not evil….” The dragoness whispered to herself one last time, scarcely a whimper. Had she been in her right mind, Gilda may have been moved by the deep showing of emotion from the normally guarded dragoness. Unfortunately, the walls of fear had completely encapsulated her. Cynder grew increasingly nervous, the modicum of trust she had managed to work with the griffin causing her to fear the rejection harshly. The idea of being cast alone again made the dragon quiver, her heart skipping a beat at the idea of being rejected and tossed to the wind over her past, over who she was and what she had been. A hyperphobic terror burst through her ribcage, bouncing around inside of her body and making her blood pump furiously. The judgment in those amber eyes stung, but the fear was like a red hot poker, sending jolts of agony into the scarred dragoness’s very soul. Before the dragoness could bolt, Gilda’s voice rang out. “Explain.” Relief flooded Cynder’s body, her voicing racing out to hopefully close the valley between them. “I was enslaved when I was just a hatchling, forced into a body not my own. The black magic is merely a side effect.” Her expression clouded for a moment, vacillation worming it’s way into her presence. Gilda remained as stone-faced as before; however, a modicum of hesitation burned through her eyes. Her instincts still flashed all kinds of warning signs. Despite this, the wall had been somewhat shaken, allowing a distant amount of logic to burrow through. “Show me. Show me what you just did.” Cynder was slightly surprised at the request, finding the requested demonstration hard to extrapolate. Nodding once, she scooted further into the shade. Giving one last uneasy look at her stoic companion, the dragoness morphed into shadow. Gilda’s heart jumped violently, blood pouring through her veins like a drainage pipe. It wasn’t as though the dragon had vanished, no, it was more akin to a specter taking the place of the reptile. Her form remained, although it was one of solid darkness, a shadow cast that bore no resemblance of a living being. The worst part was her eyes. A blackened sheet with a single emerald pinpoint in the very center. It bored into the griffin, making her feathers quiver in unnatural fear. As suddenly as it had started, it was  over, and the dragoness resumed her previous appearance. “I kept it from you…. It’s not very pleasant to look at.” Cynder’s eyes had yet to leave the ground. Gilda could still feel her pulse beating against her ribcage. Steadying her breathing, the griffin forced zen. Plodding over to the forlorn dragon, she lay a shaking claw upon her shoulder. Cynder’s eyes snapped up to the griffin’s own amber ones, and Gilda was shocked to see them moist and red. The dragoness was struggling to hold back her tears. Baring her heart and soul to those around her was never easy for one such as Cynder, as her burdens were deep. The scars laid upon her were numerous, and the weight of her crimes were not all free of her control. Malefor did not kill those guards, she did. “This darkness… it follows me.” Cynder’s voice caught. “I’ve tried so many times to run away, but it always finds me.” Gilda was shook by the emotion in her words, her previous skepticism faltering in the wake of her companion’s agony. Cynder’s next words emerged as merely a whisper, nearly being carried away by the icy breeze. “Please don’t run.” She never wanted this. It was so much easier to not care. Gritting her teeth harshly, Gilda turned her eyes from the dragon, distancing herself from the agonized dragoness. “I’m not running and neither are you.” Cynder blinked in surprise, mouth working with no sound at the griffin’s cryptic wording. Wrenching Cynder up with an audible grunt, Gilda plodded several feet away into the center of the clearing. Turning, the griffin eyed her opposite, who was still standing in the shade of the trees, eyeing her quizzically with curious emerald eyes. “Fight me.” Cynder cocked a brow, eyes once again solid and inconsolable. Her claws twitched in the dirt, her casted wings held taut behind her. Gilda, while no expert in the measures of draconic combat, could see the writing on the wall. Muscles tensing, Gilda prepared for the inevitable rush from the dragon, knowing just how fast she could move. However with the added knowledged of her unusual magic, the griffin was thrown for a loop on what to expect. The dragoness’s wings twitched almost imperceptibly and before Gilda could even interpret the motion, she was nearly blown over by a sudden gust of wind. It took nearly all of her wing force to avoid being knocked back, however during her momentary lapse of concentration she failed to account for the dragon that was already almost upon her. She was bowled over in an instant, the wind combined with the surprising weight of the dragon. She flipped once, her wings smothered under the weight of both wind and scale. Feathers ruffling in the breeze, the griffin flopped hard against the ground. She spit out a foul stench upon her tongue. Gilda, once again, tasted dirt. ---------------------------------------------------------------- The way back home was uneventful. At least, at first. For upon their journey of several kilometers back from their training ground, such a walk on foot was quite the trek. However, despite the uneventful nature of the long walk home, the very foundation of said walk took them around that dreaded forest cloaked in black. The Everfree. Such a name before bore a simple ominous catch of wind; however, the advent of a much darker entity gave the woods a more dreadful feel. Particularly, for the dragon, whose very situation was a current result of that blackened brush. Bleak and cold, the forest called to her. Gilda gave her companion a sidelong glance, noting the everpresent shivers racing across the dragon’s stiff muscles. Be it the result of the strangely icy wind or the forest itself Gilda could not decipher. The sun retained it’s perch above them, yet it offered no respite from the austere chilliness surrounding them. The griffin could not remember where this sudden atmosphere had come from, but she had a feeling it emanated from the very woods beside them. Although she could not see the darkened trees as they hid below the hills beside her, she could feel its presence. Gilda could only imagine how Cynder felt right now. A glance towards the dragoness gave her no indication of the fear living within Cynder’s soul. With every passing moment Gilda had an oddly growing need to see the forest, to peer into it’s hostile and unnatural depths. Cynder had spoken in cryptic riddles as to the nature of the being that had crippled her. Gilda had no desire to meet it. She became increasingly aware of the growing sensitivity to her environment, an odd feeling that she could not explain. Every blade of grasss tickled the underside of her talons, while each soft petal of a flower crumpled beneath her would ring out with the intensity of a siren. Gilda’s heart thumped inside her chest, blood furrowing it’s way through her body. The sky seemed to darken, the sun clouded in murky dark grey clouds and the beautiful azure color of the sky morphed into one of a sickly dark green. Gilda felt like puking, the feeling rising suddenly and making her mind quiver in fear. Although unbeknownst to her, the dragon to her right was having very, very similar troubles, her scales trembling under the weight of the buzzing. Oh that horrible buzzing, the endless, ceaseless buzzing. Horror filtered into her blood, sinking deeper and deeper into the griffin’s bones. The tension rising, she doubted the unnatural situation could get more surreal. Her body crumpled under the weight of tolling bells and static, her stomach heaving over and over again. Every sound echoing within her paralyzed mind was one of a monstrous, endlessly tolling bell. Gilda could hear very faintly in the distance another form falling to the earth, its body seizing and writhing in the dirt. Her mind attached a name to it, one that refused to come to her. Her throat ached to scream, to fill the air with a guttering screech of terror, but each and every muscle in her throat was pulled so taut that barely a squeak filtered out. She could taste blood running down her scratchy throat, her teeth burrowing into her tongue. Just as she thought the torture would never end, that her mind would be trapped in this endless paradoxical spiral, the wind halted, and her breath returned. Oh, and the air, it tasted so sweet as her lungs cried out in exhilaration. Black spots filled the griffin’s vision, moving in and out of view as she lay there simply catching her breath. Each and every muscle throbbed as though she had run a marathon, an unnatural weariness in her bones. Ringing. That was all she could hear. A distantly growing noise that drowned out all others. The bell was gone, instead replaced by a merely unpleasant buzz. This didn't last long, for it was replaced quickly by a groaning dragoness several feet away. Gilda lifted her head with a moan, her neck cracking ominously. Vision still blurry, the griffin could scarcely make out the black form of Cynder, the dragoness’s body convulsing and writhing on the ground. As more of Gilda’s senses returned, albeit in a disconnected and malfunctioning way, she was able to slowly drag herself over to the dragoness. The hen’s heart pumped weakly as she took note of the dragoness’s condition. Cynder’s eyes and nose bled, a ruby river flowing from her orifices, glinting in the murky sunlight. The griffin, panicked and still in a slight state of shock herself, shook the dragon weakly, her voice squeaking out. “Cynder… get… up.” The dragoness’s eyes didn’t move, ever focused on something thousands of miles away. With a winded gasp, the griffin fell back off her catatonic companion. With a groan of desperate anger, the hen stood shakily, plodding back over to the dragon. Gripping her gingerly around the waist, she pulled hard. The dead weight of the dragoness made her nearly impossible to move in Gilda’s winded state, and she stumbled over with a low cry. Her heart throttled faster inside her ribs. Coughing weakly, Gilda flopped over onto her back. Her eyes lazily traced the slow movements of murky green clouds, watching absentmindedly as they floated ahead. She didn’t know what to do. Lucky for her, she didn’t have to do anything. A wet cough emerged from somewhere around her. Lifting her head with a grimace, Gilda was relieved to find Cynder moving over onto her stomach, blood still dripping from her closed eyes and pooled around her nostrils in dried crust. The dragoness coughed once more, a spurt of ruby splattering against the ground. Unable to find the strength to move, the dragon fell down onto her back, breathing heaving out of her chest in gulps of precious air. She began to hyperventilate. Gilda, with her vision still clustered by white splotches and black sheets, crawled over to her companion, grabbing for her weakly. The dragoness showed scarcely an indication of noticing Gilda, said hen gritting her teeth, splattered red with her own blood. After almost a minute of gulping breaths did the dragoness begin to relax and calm herself. For the first time in nearly five minutes did Cynder’s eyes gain some clarity. When they finally found the griffin’s amber orbs, her own emerald one’s widened considerably. Fumbling away from the concerned griffin, Cynder rolled away, unsteadily rising to her haunches. “Are you alright?” Cynder’s voice carried a wet gurgle underneath it. Gilda wasn’t sure if she was. Fear and uncertainty still pumped through her veins, making her footing unsteady and her feathers quake. The events of just hours previous were still fresh in her mind and gave her pause. Her thoughts entered dangerous territory, a place where baseless accusations were barely placated upon the tip of her tongue. It took much of willpower and an admittedly inexperienced grip on the values of friendship, but the griffin attempted to give the dragoness the benefit of the doubt. “I think….I think so.” The griffin let out at length, voice audibly trembling. Cynder cast her a sympathetic glance, shakily getting to her feet. Groaning in pain, the dragoness mumbled lowly. “Hasn’t been that strong before.” Gilda missed what she had said, but caught the underlying menace and unease in her words, albeit veiled. Words failed the griffin, her throat closing up once more. Noises took back over her hearing, however it was no longer the chaotic buzzing of bells, moreover, it didn’t cause a thought debilitating migraine like before. The noise dragged her away from reality, pulling her towards the edge of the hills, overlooking the everfree. She was hypnotized, unable to escape the pull of the eerie, sorrowful song. Completely away from her thoughts, the dragoness was likewise transfixed, trudging along, ignoring her ripped and strained muscles. Each step was accented by a change in the note, it’s sonic signature bouncing up and down between sorrowful falsettos and throbbing, agonized baritones. Gilda inexplicably felt tears roll down her cheeks, staining her fur and feathers. The griffin’s heart boiled inside her chest, firm, steady thumps perfectly in sync with the enrapturing call. With a last bound, the griffin stood upon the edge, her companion beside her. Stretching onward endlessly, the forest meandered in places, trees both as tall as mountains and stubby as stones rising from the vile, tainted earth below it. The dark below was inescapable, ever pulling the very fabric of reality further and further into it’s vile depths. Dismal, gloomy green clouds hid the sun’s divine touch from claiming the woods, only shrouding them in a haze of stormy, violent shadows. Gilda felt cold, her body betrayed by the perversely abnormal trees and thicker beneath her talons. However despite these terrible sights and feelings, her attention was solely focused elsewhere. Her eyes were wide, breathing coming in shallow gulps, taken by both the majestic divinity and horrid hellishness of the sight before her. Painted in blue and black and cloaked in glyphs and runes, it hung in the air, moving like an arrow across the sky in low, sweeping motions. It’s form swept across the airspace above the forest, pulses of wind being blow against the brush below. To her side, Cynder’s gasp went unheeded, for such a being deserved all eyes. The two shared the same thoughts, ones of untapped shame, and similarly large reservoirs of terror. The massive arrow of flesh cared not for their emotions. It’s call rang out continuously, morphing the very air around the pair. Suddenly all Gilda could fathom was the crushing waves, the ocean swallowing her beneath it’s majesty. Absentmindedly, her claws found her throat, choking on nothing.In her head, the waves swirled, smashing her against the massive ocean swell, sucking her underneath into the hellsih tombs below. Despite this, all she could see was its shape, calling to a species no longer there. Cynder fell into her own head, devoured by the monstrous, looming clouds. Lightning surrounded her, yet she was blind, cut off from any feeling. All that remained was the roaring of the winds, with the ominously sorrowful call surpassing it in a landslide. The dragon clawed at her eyes, desperate to glimpse the world. It’s thoughts consumed them, pressing the two closer in thought and speech. Their bodies remained separate, but for this brief moment would they be intertwined in mind and thought, forced to experience this being’s pain. They both saw images of the earth, but ages after, an ocean of darkness, a sea of flesh. This was the future, the work of the monster in the dark, a world unable to overcome it’s pain. The parasite that leeches upon the planet, upon life, sentencing the earth to endless purgatory. This was the world to come. The pair were not the only form of life, the beings of pure flesh and blood. What happened out in that forest morphed the arrow, the being in the sky, it’s cry perpetual and prophetical. Mother nature had spoken, giving birth to an entity entirely of her own design. It’s warning was clear. As they were ever consumed by the beauty and horror of that being, of that flying whale, did their thoughts ring true, morphing into one of the same life. Unable to separate their own thoughts, they repeated the same words, over and over. Anguish and fury, judiciousness and madness, the song was never-ending. I can’t see, I can’t breathe. > Trees So Tall > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The First Week The sun was hidden, obscured behind a nest of clouds so thick that even the most powerful beams from that nuclear furnace could not penetrate through the barriers. Below the blanket of gray and black came a shower of a different sort. Falling, being whipped up by the fierce winds and then depositing in thick clumps among the earth, the snowfall was heavy, filtering around in such a manner that most vision was completely blocked, forced out by the icy shower. Each second was accented by the almost mind-numbing sound of wind and fury, sound all but distorted into a tunnel of white noise and unearthly turmoil. Cold and dry, the air was more than a little obscured, forced out by the outlandishly powerful snowstorm as it encompassed all vision, narrowing the creatures of the earth to a field of view measuring only a foot or two. Contrasting the bleak sheet of white was an unholy darkness that lingered upon the edge of sight, nightfall all but upon them. Hidden inside the storm were the figures of two beings, trudging along slowly through the massive wall of sound and snow. Having retreated far into their minds, they pushed on through the fall, ignoring the turmoil the best they possibly could. However, mother nature would not be placated or shut out. Gilda, for all her keen eyesight and knowledge of the terrain was completely blind, her eyes nearly closed against the monstrous gales and pounding snowfall. Her own thoughts were all but erased by the crushing wall of sound, restricting her sense to that of touch, for her sense of smell was completely gone. Any scent that may have existed was miles gone, being pushed and pulled in the mighty forces of the gust. All she could feel was cold. A haze of freezing temperatures that refused to go, instead chilling her down to the very core of her being, numbing her bones. The griffin’s breath came in shallow gulps, the gale preventing her from getting a full breath and her lungs spasming in the frigid air. Among the wall of noise that was the storm, occasionally in the distance a very different sound would linger, just on the edge of hearing. A deep, resonating song of melancholy. A lonesome whale, singing to the world, it’s call unearthly and otherworldly. It. Never. Left. Gilda grit her teeth, hobbling as she forced the song from her hearing, though it refused to vanish completely. Peering back over her shoulder weakly, the griffin could just barely make out the form of black that was her companion, the onyx dragoness struggling to keep up in the weather. Gasping in panic, Gilda noticed that she wasn’t moving. Grunting in discomfort, Gilda moved her limbs fast, the biting cold sticking to her muscles like glue, slowing her considerably. Moaning lightly as her bones cracked and her muscles pulled further upon ligaments and sinew, the griffin sludged backwards in the deep snow. Cynder was down, breathing heavily, her form being more and more obscured by the dense blizzard, snow covering her from horn to tail. Her eyes were closed, the dragoness’s body going slack as her temperature dropped into critically low levels. As her lights winked out into near unconsciousness, Gilda lifted her from the brush, covering her with a frigid wing. No words were spoken, for they would be swept away by the howling blast. Instead, the griffin pulled her semiconscious companion along with her. Panicked and in dire need of warmth herself, the griffin spun rapidly, looking for a shelter from the mess. Her keen vision was completely useless in the combination of no sunlight and sweltering downpour of white. Out of options, the hen moved in a random direction, the dragon under her wing, more pushing her legs on instinct rather than thought. Gilda’s muscles burned with effort, the contrasting cold making the sinew feel as though it were on fire. In the next minutes, the storm above intensified, lightning cutting through the clouds and lighting the night briefly in waves of heavenly light. Using the newfound edge as well as she could, Gilda moved forward, the lightning guiding her path. The wind whipped against her face, forcing the Griffin to close her eyes and shield her face with her other wing, which was so numb by this point she more noticed the snow was no longer smacking her face than the fact that she had moved the appendage. Gasping in pain as she stumbled against a burrow of stones, Gilda barely avoided tumbling into the wave of snow, catching her balance just before the likely deadly plunge. Each thunderous crack of lightning gave a a hellish rumble in the dark canvas of winter, making her teeth shake within her skull. The bursts of light were both holy and terrifying. She did her best to weave between the trees, narrowly avoiding them by several centimeters. A monstrous crack cut the sky, and in the ensuing burst of light the hen could make out a hollow in the hills. There! With newfound life in her veins Gilda rushed forward, dragging the nearly fainted dragoness along her wing. The hen could hear her dragoness breathing heavily. She needed to act quickly. It took a brief struggle, but the hen grappled the larger dragon, forcing Cynder onto her back. The weight of the dragoness was strenuous, the dead weight of the now out cold female was nearly too much to bear, but panic and adrenaline gave the griffin strength she didn’t know she possessed. Hauling the dragoness with a loud groan, Gilda sprinted for the cave entrance with all she was worth, pushing her limbs to their snapping point. Closer and closer, weaker and weaker. As the howl of the wind intensified and drowned her thoughts in a layer of icy cold water, she broke through the haze and collapsed inside the cave. The sudden fall threw the dragoness from her back, the black-scaled female skidding along the rocky floor roughly. Gilda shivered uncontrollably, yet she did not rest. Racing over to Cynder, heart beating tremendously, she pulled the dragon to the back of the shallow cave, doing her best to shield her. Her cold blooded companion shook in her sleep, body shutting down in the frigid temperatures. The hen was at the cusp of her limits herself, yet she knew she needed to stay awake, for both of their sakes. Hugging the dragon close to her, Gilda brought her back to the exit of the cave. The burrow was cold, very cold, but it was still a far cry to the blizzard that awaited her outside. Quaking in hyperthermic discomfort, Gilda meandered the two of them around a shallow bend in the cave, shielding them from the worst of the billowing, icy winds. Her bones were sore from the onslaught; however, she tried her very best to ignore it and focus on keeping her companion from dying to the freezing cold that was shutting her body down by the second. Gilda huddled closer, what little warmth remained in the hen’s body just barely keeping the dragon from falling completely over the edge. She knew they wouldn't last like this. Casting one last look at the dragoness, Gilda huddled her as close to the wall as possible before moving away, quickly rushing back into the howling darkness. Making a positive mental note of her location, the hen rushed around the closest proximity, gathering up twigs, branches, and whatever small stones were not completely blanketed beneath snow and ice. By the time she had deposited the first batch her talons and wings were absolutely senseless, swept underneath icy numbing. Doing her best to push the intense discomfort to the back of her mind, Gilda enacted the next phase of her plan. Finding trees in a forest was hardly an intense prospect. However, breaking off large planks of bark in such volatile conditions was a much more foreboding challenge. It took much effort and a serious amount of strain, but the griffin was able to gather just enough planks to create a barrier over the narrow cave entrance. It took scarcely five minutes. It felt like five hours. Rushing back inside, she was relieved to find her draconic companion had improved slightly, being no longer a shivering, trembling mess. Pushing one of the larger stones forward, Gilda pushed hard on the large rock, one that had been very conveniently broken from the wall Ghor knows how long ago. The boulder was enormously heavy, almost to the point where the exhausted hen couldn't move it. After a minute or two of intense struggling, the griffin stacked the planks against the stones, barricading themselves inside. Several cracks permeated the surface of her makeshift wall. However, the planks garnered just enough protection from the raging winter storm for her to be comfortable. Slowly dragging herself back to her black-scaled companion, Gilda pulled her close, huddling against the ice cold dragoness. Her breath coming in frigid exhales, the griffin pulled her stiff wings around, shaking off the snow behind her and pushing her body closer, the little warmth left in her seeping between her and the unconscious dragon. It was going to be a long night. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gilda shivered. Not because of the cold, but because of the memories of that snowy horror. Up ahead, several feet in front of her, the dragoness walked steadily, no longer impeded or affected by the chill of the night several days before. She didn’t remember how close to the edge she had been, and for that Gilda was thankful. How in Gaia’s green earth would she explain that to her, of all the near death experiences the dragon seemed to have gone through, the griffin was doubtful freezing to death was one that had sprung up before? Snow still surrounded them, albeit in smaller mounds and a relatively thin layer on the ground. At least compared to the night several days before. Gilda shuffled the light pack she carried on her back, loose cans and materials shaking on the back of the loose leather satchel. They had packed lightly before they left, at least a week in the past now. Strung loosely along the outside of their packs were various metal cans and strings of rope and linen, courtesy of the eldest hen of the household. Something about cooking and healing, a bunch of junk the younger griffin didn’t quite understand. Cynder had her wool blanket around her as they walked, the dragoness still shivering lightly in the cold air. Gilda was thankful once again for her warm blood. Speaking of which, the griffin was surprised to learn that particular fact, for most Equestrian dragons were warm blooded. A common misconception was that they were the opposite. Cynder had been vague on the details, nothing new. Gilda smirked slightly. Leave it to the dragon to want to be mysterious. Deep down Gilda knew the exact reason: their unspoken encounter with the being from the forest had given them the opportunity, an unusual feeling of being one with the creature beside her. The hen trembled slightly at the memory. Blinded and breathless. Drowning, cold and forgotten in the ocean. Hearing the thoughts of another so clearly, feeling like she was no longer just part of herself anymore. Even with Dash she lacked such a connection. She needed to know more, to see that whale again, to learn its secrets, its purpose. Ever since the encounter the urge to meet it had grown stronger, sloshing around inside of the hen with ever growing force, an incomprehensible thirst she couldn’t shake. Gilda knew Cynder could hear her. On some primal level, they were now connected. She didn’t know where the connection ran and where it ended, but there had been times during that night of ice and carnage that she could glimpse into her dreams. Though it was nothing but a haze of purple, she had seen something. It was a sorrow she hadn’t felt in a long time, and it wasn’t even hers. That thought scared her. Coughing once into her talons, Gilda raced up ahead to catch up with the dragoness, stumbling over herself once in anxiety. Cynder didn’t react in one way or another to the hen’s presence, her eyes boring straight ahead, lost in thought. She hadn’t even been noticed, and that gave the griffin a rather devious idea. Quickly and silently, the hen reached down, clutching a small clump of snow. Smirking toothily, she quickly balled it up, before reaching back and slamming the ball home against the back of Cynder’s head, the snow splattering against her horns. The dragon jumped visibly, rumbling low in her chest reflexively and jolting around. Gilda was rolling on the ground before Cynder’s eyes even caught her own. Growling in rage, Cynder dropped her pack in the snow, flipping the blanket off of her and dropping it lightly into the snow. Despite the snarling rage apparent on her expression, Gilda could see a semi-amused twinkle in the jade eyes boring into her. Though her companion was cloaked in midnight black scales, she was practically glowing with indignation. “You going for an early death there, griffin?” Cynder glowered at the hen, who was still rolling around on the ground in hysterics, watching the dragon shiver and shake with an interesting combination of rage and chill. “I dunno, you tell me.” Gilda snickered, fighting back tears at her flustered companion’s mix of both anger and cold discomfort. The dragon’s eye twitched once, and for a split second Gilda could see the thoughts running through the dragon’s head. How to Roast a Chicken with Acid, a novel by Cynder. That completely and unexpectedly broke the griffin. Cynder’s glower intensified as the hysterical hen completely lost it, howling with laughter. For a moment, the dragoness was unsure of what to even do. Eventually her scowl dropped, a simply frosty glower resting upon her tense face. She couldn’t keep it up for very long before she warmed up, shaking her head in bemusement before turning. She lifted a paw, but paused mid air. “If I get another snowball to the back of the head, I will actually drop you off a cliff with your wings tied.” Gilda could barely make out the twisted smile that crossed her companion's face at the bemused threat. The hen rolled her eyes, the unexpected laughter fading out as she got back to her feet, jogging up to her scaled ally. “As if you could.” Cynder cocked a brow as she lifted her pack and blanket, depositing each upon her back, sitting between her twisted and scarred wings. Turning to look at the stone-faced hen out of the corner of her eye, Cynder’s grin twisted into a straight line. “I’ve never hunted turkey, doubt it’s that hard.” Gilda could see her facial muscles tensing, clearly trying not to smile. “Har har.” Gilda deadpanned, rolling her eyes and falling back into step beside her companion as they continued to trek through the woods. “How’s the map looking?” Cynder reached into her pack, slinging it over her side. She pulled a stained piece of parchment out, the faded goatskin clearly showing its age. The hen plopped her haunches in the snow, Cynder doing the same, eyeing the griffin stoically. Gilda took a quick look, doing estimations in her head. Scratching the side of her face as her eyes roamed over the map, she fixed her eyes on several landmarks, ones that stood out from the forest behind the pair. “We’re making good progress.” Gilda thought back to the last few days. All things considered, anyway. Cynder cocked a brow once again. “What’s the clock looking like?” Gilda’s beak scrunched for a second, mind whirling. “Hmm… two weeks out, give or take a few days. The pass will cut quite a bit of time.” Folding the map back up, Gilda handed it back to the dragon who carefully tucked it back into her pack, fumbling with it for a second or two before slinging it back between her crippled wings. Gilda grimaced as she noted the forceful cringe that Cynder’s muzzle bore for a second when her claws clipped the damaged appendages. She said nothing, opting for respectful silence as they resumed walking in quiet. The next hour or two passed quietly, the gentle falling of snow mixed with the peaceful sound of birds chirping. For once in the last few weeks, Gilda felt perfectly at peace, out in the wild where she belonged. Casting a headlong glance, Cynder appeared equally at ease, her eyes drooped slightly and her face a mask of indifference and tranquility. Had she turned she would have missed it. The slightest twitch in her wings and a pained grimace that moved across her face quickly. The dragon’s teeth clenched violently, though it lasted for merely a second. Gilda was about to ask, but decided it was probably unwise to do so. The dragoness seemed rather touchy on the subject as of late, though Gilda got the feeling she knew why. Cynder had probably come to realize the truth, that she would never fly again. It hurt her to know that her friend was in such torment, however there was not a thing she could do. On a whim, Gilda’s beak opened, the words leaving before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry, I never meant to give you false hope.” She immediately shut her mouth, heart jumping as Cynder stopped dead in her tracks, eyes watching straight forward. A moment passed, the dragon and griffin sharing a glance. Gilda was initially worried that her companion would grow angry and lash out; however, she was alarmed, and a little relieved if she could be honest, that Cynder’s expression was not one of anger, but of cold resignation. “I think I knew from that first moment that I’d be grounded.” Cynder’s voice trembled weakly. Despite the tremor in her voice, her eyes were strong, or more perhaps they were aloof, intentionally indifferent. Gilda’s voice was lost, her mouth not quite sure what to say. Despite this, Cynder smiled weakly at her, baring her soul for a moment. “Thank you. For at least trying.” Cynder’s eyes grew moist, yet tears did not fall. Turning her head with a sigh, she regarded her damaged wings with a remorseful, bleak face. Turmoil written across her muzzle. With a final smile, the dragoness continued walking, a noticeable spring in her step. Gilda wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Deciding that it was better left not questioned, the griffin fell back into step, draping a wing over her companion’s back. “Not all eagles soar Cynder, some hunt from the ground.” The dragoness regarded her quietly, a smirk taking over her muzzle. “You’re not good with analogies, Gilda.” “Can’t blame me for trying.” Cynder happily nodded, smiling brightly for the first time in weeks. “It felt good to finally let that go. It hurt… but… it was a good first step, I think.” Gilda clapped her on the back, being very sure to avoid hitting her sensitive wings. Deep down, the griffin really wasn’t sure why the plight of this strange dragon had gripped her so hard, but she knew this was special, something she hadn’t even shared with Dash. “One step at a time, one step at a time.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The Second Week The forest continued on, spreading out in large fertile rolling hills, snow capping the tips of trees. Down below, the forest floor evened out in various sections, creating deep gorges and trenches in the otherwise even ground. The forest echoed with the humming and chirping of birds and insects. Deep in the distance, mountains towered over the treetops, monstrously high peaks of a primordial being eclipsing all others in size and scope. If one were to look upon such a sight they would be struck, quaking in the way of such a view of ancient gods of stone and rock. A hilly clearing overlooked such a monstrous beauty, a towering titan that was larger than beings of flesh and blood. Atop these peaks of snow and rock no sound pierced the veil, it’s silence unbreaking, it’s form unmoving. Gilda had laid eyes on this sight before, yet it always took her breath away. Sivyj Jar. The immovable mountains. The border of worlds. Every griffin was taught of the place as a chick, the mountains that never ended, a sight that was considered something of a writ of passage. To travel to the border of griffinic territory was no easy task, the harsh winter had seen to that. It wasn’t the first time she had been this far from home, yet those mountains had never seemed so foreboding. Her claws trembled in the earth, the toll of the journey starting to catch up with her. Cynder trudged along behind her, making it up the hill with a gasp, her previously atrophied muscles struggling in the climb. Gilda silently began to make camp, reading the signs of the dragoness’s unbending fatigue. The journey was harsh, yet Gilda had not expected such terrible weather, the winter being harsher than any she had experienced. Even as she was wrapped tightly in both hers and Gilda’s blanket, the dragoness still shivered violently. A fierce wind blew in from the east, its force nearly knocking the griffin over. That was never good. Cynder clearly was not amused. “This cold… is a bitch!” Her teeth chattered, her form huddling further into the blankets, snow crunching under her claws. Gilda rolled her eyes, dropping her pack into the firm crush below. Unclasping several buttons, she unrolled a large quilt of fabric, laying it down onto the snow. “Toss me your pikes.” She motioned over to the dragoness, who was scrambling underneath her blankets, shoving her pack beside her. She muddled through it, pulling out four small metal rods, throwing them to the griffin one at a time. Poking them into the corners of the blankets, she slid the extended metal up one at a time, before sticking a large overhanging blanket over the top of the four metal rods, each one extending around four feet up. The sides of the large, heavy blanket reached down far, nearly touching the ground. All in all, the weather shelter would hold both of them comfortably. Cynder wasted no time in diving inside of the shelter, still wrapped in a shield of fabric and wool. Gilda paid her no mind, instead training her gaze to the north, further past the mountains. Her keen vision picked apart the sights beyond like a stubborn child at dinner, her intense glower hanging over the rampant clouds, billowing and writhing in hellish motions as they broke and splintered over the tips of the glacial peaks of Sivyj Yar, spewing foamy fog down narrow crags and tunneling burrows in rock. Brow growing more and more furrowed, Gilda paid ample mind to those that managed to survive the crags, their forms hanging lowly around the various peaks and glacial tips of the mountains. She glared at them momentarily, wondering silently what they would become. After a minute of silent vigil, the griffin was satisfied by the lack of progress in the clouds. With a gruff sigh, she turned and pushed on the blanket, shuffling to her side of the shelter. To her surprise, the dragoness was already curled up, seemingly asleep, her breath moving the blanket steadily up and down under the blankets. Fluffing up her wings, she rested against the solid steel of an anchor pole, the frim metal remaining unyielding. The bite of the outside cold did not reach her, instead the obstinate warmth of the blankets, and very quickly she found herself dozing off under the falling sun, a gentle orange glow sliding under the line where the blanket did not meet ground. She had just begin to fall into sleep, when it sounded, far in the distance, but far more haunting than usual. A tone, echoing with sorrow, a furiously painful whine that permeated her very being. Gilda was up before she could even think, heart bouncing in her chest, stomach tumbling in cycles. It’s note changed drastically, a vivid echo of a melancholy nature, the trembling baritone sludging around in her skull like a thick liquid. The griffin brought a talon to her skull, doing her best to will away the violent sensation, it’s perverse touch causing her to grind teeth and clench talons. The feeling passed quickly, the call lowering before fading out completely. Gilda shook her head violently, dispelling the lingering effects of the call. Her vision was blurry, however she could easily make out that the dragoness had felt it just as she had, Cynder’s legs wobbling unsteadily as she clutched at her eyes. Groaning, the dragoness lowered her claws, fixing the griffin with an unnerved stare. Gilda stared back, equally uncomfortable. They had yet to talk about this, the whale, the things it had made them feel. Looks like this would be it. Cynder beat her to the punch. “Perhaps it’s time to talk about what that could all mean.” The dragon’s voice carried an almost inaudible tremble, the undertone backed up by the slightest shake in her body. Gilda nodded, however her mouth would not open. Each time she thought back to that first encounter, her mind blanked, washed away by the might of that being, it’s almost deity like presence haunted her waking dreams to their core. “How do we even talk about it? What is it?” Gilda’s voice was slightly panicked, powerful fear and confusion rising up, finally freed from the griffin’s frantic suppression. Cynder somehow found a way to let a wiry smile ease her features. “Pretty sure it’s a whale, then again I’ve been wrong before.” Cynder raised a claw to her chin, faking a thoughtful appearance. Noticing Gilda’s furious and downright terrified scowl, the dragoness quickly dropped the humor. “Sorry, sorry.” Cynder sighed, leaning back against an anchor pole, shivering as a breeze wafted up from under the covering blanket. Her claws chewed the linen of her blanket anxiously, nearly tearing marks in the thick fabric. “I really….I don’t really know.” The shelter went quiet for a few moments after that, nothing but the eerie sounds of the wind pouring in through the now dark winter forest. Gilda’s breathing was shallow, heart hammering underneath her fur and skin. “We remember the same thing.” It was less of a question and more of a statement, one that her companion nodded along with, an uncomfortable grimace on her face. “We shared the same head.” Cynder’s grimace intensified into a full blown cringe, nodding once again. Gilda once again fell quiet, contemplating the thoughts that her suspicions were true, much to her discomfort and chagrin. Neither of the pair could find the will to speak, the shelter lapsing into silence, one filled with tension and uncertainty. Cynder once again broke the silence, her voice uncertain. “I’m not sure what this means for us, but we can’t panic.” Despite her words, the dragoness herself appeared visibly shaken. “What do we do though? What does it want?” Gilda’s voice was audibly flustered, her hackles raised and eyes wide. Her draconic ally simply shook her head, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. “I’m not sure, but….I don’t really get it.” Cynder’s fear seemed to fade slightly, a new interest perking up her voice. “If it wanted to hurt us, it simply could’ve killed us back at the Everfree.” Gilda suddenly remembered something, and it made her heart jump, mind whirling quickly to process the implications. “What did it show us? It was….it looked like the end of the world.” That struck Cynder hard, her companion jumping back a step, wrapping the blanket tighter around her form like a scared child. “Cynder?” The dragon refused to look at her, her muzzle fumbling for words, eyes growing moist. Gilda became more worried, the extreme reaction was far from what she could handle right now. Before Gilda could press the dragon again, Cynder’s voice cried out, tears falling down her cheeks. “It is the end! It did this to me!” Cynder gasped, closing her mouth behind a paw, the dragon’s throat closing up with a choked sob. The griffin was shocked, never having seen the dragon in such distress before. Gilda’s eyes traced the massive, jagged scars covering a large portion of the dragoness's now unbandaged scales. She couldn’t imagine the force required to rip and tear her scales and flesh to such a degree. She hadn’t asked before, not wanting to agitate her, but now…. “Cynder….what are you talking about.” Gilda’s voice lowered, eyeing the dragon who had burrowed her face far into her blanket, shivering in abstract terror. The dragoness poked her head out far enough to see Gilda’s warm amber eyes gazing concernedly down into her own terrified and wet ones. This seemed to break the odd spell that had gripped the dragoness, Cynder’s body relaxing slightly. Though her words were scratchy and trembled on every other syllable, her next sentence was legible. “There’s something that came with me….to this world I mean.” Cynder gulped audibly, a lump in her throat closing off her air as she choked out her next words weakly. “I can still feel it, tearing, ripping, pulled me apart.” The dragon’s eyes went foggy, a tear escaping down the side of her face and she trembled heavily, tugging on the blanket. “I can still feel my bones snapping, my organs being boiled inside me….” Gilda grew nauseated, listening to the grotesque descriptions, that same thousand-yard stare dominating the dragoness's face as she recounted what had happened to her, almost absentmindedly. “Slithering inside my stomach, iron beams running through my head, ripping my mind to shreds….” Gilda grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking the dragon from her near insane ramblings. “Calm down, just calm down.” She pleaded with Cynder, who by this point was trembling visibly, her limbs quaking under the weight of trauma and abstract fear. “You’re not in the Everfree anymore, you’re safe.” Gilda pulled the dragon into a hug, one that neither her or the dragoness was truly expecting. Deep down inside her cold heart, Gilda knew on some level the dragoness and her shared an unusual bond now, one that tempered and broiled on the basis of their experiences together. They were hardly compatible friends, each just as feisty as the last, Gilda colder, Cynder more distant. It didn't matter now, they had shared one mind. Such an ethereal experience was hard to shake off. The hug had broken Cynder from her reverie, and she quaked harder than before, tears sliding down her cheeks and her voice hiccuping. “It hurts. It hurts so much.” The normally stoic dragon completely broke, body shaking and sobs spewing forth from her chest and lungs with intense, rhythmic motions. Gilda’s coldened heart begged her to distance herself from this immense outpouring of emotion, however a deeper, stronger desire to bring comfort to her agonized companion took leave of her senses, a sting of pain rupturing inside her as she listened and felt the dragon’s pain, her intense trauma and sorrow bleeding over to the griffin in a way she had not ever felt before. Gilda held the slightly larger dragon, gripping her tight against her chest as she cried her agony to the world, fear pouring out from her in rivers and splashing against the griffin. She simply held her, letting the dragoness finally let go of the pain, the mutilation, the terror that encompassed her. Tears fell from the griffin’s eyes, listening to the heart-rending sobs of her only friend melted her from the inside, crying for the first time in so long. All she could do was hold her only true friend in this world, letting her cry and sob as she needed. Gilda wanted to break down herself, yet she did not, only letting the dragon feel safe, secure enough to release her pent up trauma, a quaking mountain of sobbing and trembling that shook the normally aloof Griffin to her core. In the valley a cold breeze whipped up, sliding under the shelter. Cynder didn’t feel the cold, only the shame, only the anger, only the pain. I’m scared….this ocean is endless….where is my redemption….where is my salvation? ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Third Week Cynder’s legs ached, each step forward bringing with it a fresh pang of acidic burn to her muscles, the quaking sensations of blood pumping hard through her veins, ripe with adrenalic outpour. Her lungs choked on dry, cold air, each pulsing motion of up and down accenting her racing heart as she ran, trudging through snow and ice with a feverish pace. Cynder’s. Legs. Ached! And she loved it. Stretching her legs on a full on sprint, oh it had been far too long. Gilda trailed behind her, even as atrophied as muscles still were, the dragoness retained her natural speed, moving like a black blur through the opaque white landscape. Snow cascaded around her, piling up in clumps along the thin path, yet she did not feel the bite of the cold, only the heated exhilaration. Freedom. So pure and innocent, a feeling like no other, untouched by all troubles, freed from her chains. Allowed to run, to dash and sprint and climb to a place where she was free, oh so free. It was lovely, this long, thin path with naught a bend or curve for as far as she could make in the foggy cloud of white. The blackness of her scales bled around her, the gorgeous white snow flowing around her onyx scales in a river of mystical light. She had never felt so free, the chill of the mountains flowing around her and between her claws. She had never been so unchained. Never been so happy. Never been so close to her life. She skidded to a halt, snowparting around her as she breathed deeply, a shining smile on her muzzle, eyes wide and wet. Everything around her was quiet, peaceful, not a sound permeated her senses beyond the pleasant buzz of wind and falling snow. In the distance behind her, the dragoness made out a very vague brown figure, approaching with a moderate pace. Gilda. Cynder snorted lowly and smiled softer; the griffon could use some speed. Taking a deep breath, the scarred black dragon let her gaze wander aimlessly between the snow covered trees and the ice capped mountains, oh so close before her. As the adrenaline faded from her blood, Cynder could start to easily feel the biting chill of the winter forest, tightening heer ruby red blanket around herself. She pulled the fabric hood overtop her head, careful to fit her sharp ivory horns into the holes along it’s surface. Another gift from Gimle. Cynder rummaged through her satchel for a quick second, pulling out a ramshackle waterskin, it’s form heavy with liquid, drops condensing along the outside of the touch skin. Taking a moment to fumble with the fabric lines tying it’s neck closed, the dragon moaned loudly as the icy water fell down her throat, easing the scratchiness. Tying the string back tightly, as well as one could anyway with such sharp talons, Cynder deposited it back into her satchel, an audible thunk following. Walking slowly along the path, Cynder waited patiently, the dragoness expecting her avian companion to catch up within the hour at this pace. The air here was heavy, laden with trapped moisture and thick fog, it’s vice like grip wasn’t exactly pleasant, but she made do as best she could. An ambient noise caught her hearing, a near constant thumping sound echoing around the peacefully desolate world of the mountains, it’s drone pounding across the land. Curious, Cynder focused on it, eyes darting around in various direction to catch the source. Closer and closer it came, and then Cynder saw it. An orange-brown blur flew overhead, landing on the snowy earth with a thud. The hen lowered her wings upon her back, casting the dragon a sidelong glance, one brow raised. “Forgot I could fly?” Cynder rolled her eyes, coughing into one paw idly. “Not really.” She smirked lowered her brows and narrowing her eyes tauntingly. “Just didn’t expect you could fly fast enough.” Gilda refused to take the bait, fixing the arrogantly strutting dragoness a flat stare, nearly tempted to stick her tail out and trip the dragon as she passed. “Rude.” Gilda fell back into step, speeding up to Cynder before easing down slightly. “Oh you know you wouldn’t have me any different.” “Don’t be so sure, you’re still a dweeb.” This time is was Cynder’s turn to roll her eyes. “There we go again with that word.” Cynder fixed her companion with a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement sparkling within. “It doesn’t sound right.” Gilda pushed on her shoulder lightly, meandering around a sudden tree in the path, hopping over gnarled roots and low hanging branches. “It’s called being cultured….or something like that.” Cynder regarded her strangely, clicking her tongue at the hen while shaking her head. “Pretty sure that’s not the word I’d use.” Their conversation died down after that, fading into familiar silence, with only the everpresent buzz of the mountain air soaking up the soundscape. It was comfortable to be that way however, their silence growing easy and relaxing. The light crunching of snow was an oddly relaxing sensation, it’s  touch long since grown to be familiar and expected in the griffinic highlands of the north. Further south, nearly three-hundred miles behind them was the olden town of Griffinstone, they had stopped along the first week for a day, Gilda having a relation to the dismal town that she would not divulge. Up ahead, the mountains loomed, closely guarding them as they advanced ever closer. One thing Cynder had begun to notice over the past two or three days was the constant elevation increase, along with it following was an oddly foreboding feeling. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, for it wasn’t the horrendously nauseating presence of the forest, it’s disturbingly unnatural form far in the past, nor was it the ominous, unknown purpose of the whale, it’s call far in the distance. This gave her ease, for she had come to expect it’s foreboding and electrifying call, it permeated every fabric of her bone and flesh, and it’s absence was much more fulfilling than she had expected. The new feeling was all the more unwelcome however, it’s mysterious presence creating an unusual feeling deep inside her. It was empty, desolate, isolated, and worst of all, she felt it grow stronger every day. Isolation, was by its very nature, a feeling she wasn’t all that unaccustomed to, but this was different, so very different. Gilda didn’t feel it, that she knew of. Perhaps it was the mountains, the forest, it was all new to her. She was stranded, shipwrecked here, with naught a way to go but forward, they were so close, the pass through the mountains awaited. A day long journey instead of a three week one. She had already suffered through one of those, and it had drained her more than she would ever admit. This was a bittersweet trek, one that had affected her more than any other, it’s lengthy isolation driving her to the brink, with only Gilda keeping her together, her only companion, lost in this world now. Her bones ached, her scars itched, her head throbbed. Shipwrecked. Stranded. Lost in a liquid desert. Her only anchor being the griffin beside her, and that of her purple companion, so far away. A trek towards ferocity, a voyage into shadow, a leap into the dark. “Anchor me to this world Gilda, I’m at your mercy. I owe you my life.” …. Gilda noted the change in temperature nearly immediately. The wind suddenly shifted, brushing so lightly against her feathers, wings ruffling softly. She stopped, looking up slowly. Cynder made notice of her companions sudden change, perking a brow, and stopping to look at her. The griffin paid her no mind, shooting up into the air, hovering in place just above the treetops. Down below Cynder made naught a sound, instead circling her location, body ready for whatever hell had approached them. There! To the west, just breaking over a narrow peak a surge of clouds, broiling and billowing, it’s dark grey mass enveloped the sun, drowning Gilda in a shadow, dark as night. She knew the sign, it was approaching, the wind blowing it towards her with a violent ferocity. Gasping, she dropped from the sky, landing and grabbing her satchel quickly. Cynder was watching her with wide eyes, body crouched low to the ground, her face a grim line, unmoving and unflinching. “Snowstorm.” Gilda voices nearly vanished upon the wind. The dragon flinched, a moment of weakness that was quickly washed away in the wake of firm, resolute fury. She nodded once at her, and without another word, the griffin was off, pushing her limbs as fast as possible in the relatively thick snow. They had to reach the pass, to break the clouds and hide from the storm. There would be no escape from that monster this time. Cynder raced hot on her heels, the thundering thumps of her paws slamming into the earth right behind her. Five minutes. That’s what they had. They needed to condense three hour of walking into that frame. At this pace the pass would be nearly thirty minutes away. Gilda was tempted to fly, yet she strayed not, for her companion would surely perish. Heart hammering in her chest, the once peaceful environment turned upside down, the furious maelstrom of mother nature prepared to run them over like an out of control train. Picking up her legs with more ferocity, the hen slammed her wings open, pushing off the ground in small bursts, gathering as much speed as possible. Despite her enhanced movement, Cynder remained beside her, easily keeping pace. The hen knew Cynder could still easily outpace her, yet the dragon did not, her eyes set forward in a grim line, her eyes fluttering, but never closing. Breathing harder and harder, Gilda’s lungs burned, the dry, crisp air slicing her throat and crushing her lungs. She dare not slow her pace. A minute or two had passed and she could easily hear the wind now, it’s trembling baritone voice called out, massive growls of winds hammering the trees around them, clouding the path with runaway waves of snow and sleet. Hopping up a foot or two for a quick second, Gilda snatched a thin line of rope from her satchel, tying one end quickly around her barrel in a loose knot. Cynder watched her with a look of abstract fear, the emotion breaking across her face without her knowledge. Gilda landed, barely keeping stride, while at the same time tossing over and around the dragoness barrel, her form becoming harder to glimpse in the darkness enveloping the forest. The hen did not need to explain, the dragoness pulled the rope around herself taut, not being able to tie it, the pressure rubbed her scales raw though she did not notice. “We aren’t gonna make it.” Gilda’s voice trembled, terror clouding her voice, fear of death now dominating her desperate mind. The dragoness beside her had a very different expression and tone, her teeth clenched angrily. Snow began to pile around them, the icy particles raining in a thick shower as the storm encompassed them. Trees shook, trembling under the weight of the gales of snow and wind. The pair themselves was forced to push harder in the face of the howling squall. Cynder had enough, whirling against the path, her eyes narrowed, glowing white, the essence seeping around her sockets and down her face as every desperate bone in her body was forced into action. Spinning rapidly, her tail blade sliced clean through their tether rope. Shipwrecked. Stranded. Collapsed. Underneath this wretched sun, I will die. Garnering every muscle in her body into action, Cynder kept her pace, but deep inside her core, everything came to a halt, a furios, billowing wave of gray wisps pulsing out of her in massive waves. With a beastly snarl of a desperate animal, she lashed out, the tides of wind sped around them, smashing back into the front with tremendous force, pushing the clouds and snow back a peg. Each second of channeling such an extreme force of wind proved ever taxing, her grip on the element being tenuous at best. It was just enough however, the might of the storm halted in the face of the dragoness desperate rage, sloshing around, but not moving upon them nearly as quickly. Gilda was wide eyed, mouth open as the marks across Cynder’s body glowed with hot, white energy, pulsing like a throbbing wound, seeping gray energy out from her body. Cynder screamed in pain, blood spurting out of her mouth at the excess use of energy, her body reacting negatively to the massive force she was exerting, yet she did not stop. After about a minute of this same treatment did she shut the conduit, the pulsing energy seeping back into her scales. The dragoness breathed heavily, her limbs numb and blood dribbling down her chin in thick drops of dark red ichor. Despite her best efforts, she was not able to completely stop the fury of winter from advancing, however her desperate action slowed the storm considerably, pushing it back several hundred feet and slowing it’s velocity significantly. “Bought us some time.” Cynder panted weakly and with a snarl, spitting a splash of red liquid into the snow, coloring it a deep ruby. Gilda shook off her awe, eyeing the gray death that had been pushed farther back into the treeline. They now had ten minutes, how quaint. “No time to waste, move!” Gilda rushed, fear still practically glowing on her face in the low light. Cynder made no effort to answer, only wiping the blood from her mouth and running, eyeing the storm warily. It’s pulsing form began to vibrate with energy once more, pushing over the tree tops and sky in a monstrous wave. It was close, it’s near. The pass was so close, it’s might hidden between the crags of the mountains that loomed, the gods of stone and metal guarding the key to salvation, a narrow hole in the shield, it’s tempting presence so close, so close. Five minutes of running later, a span of time that seemed so short, for the storm loomed ever present, a terrifying entity that roared and screamed from overhead. Gilda had never felt so terrified, so forced to run. She could not fly lest her only companion be swallowed whole by the fury of winter, and if she ran, they would most certainly be ran down, trapped underneath this frozen forest forever. It had come, snow roaring around them, galvanizing them into further stress. The air had become so cold, so horrendously frigid that even the adrenaline burning inside them like a open flame was cooled into nothing by the freezing winds. Vision swallowed, terror followed. They had come so far, and yet they could not outrun Mother Nature, winter wrapping them up in its timeless embrace. Gilda had nearly accepted her fate, the dragon beside her slumping further in the thicket, speed waning into a mid paced run, when that monstrous sea parted, revealing the oblivion and salvation  ahead. The jagged split in rock, it's opening hidden from the tumultuous storm. Gilda had never been so relieved to see a dark, forbidding cave in her life. Deeper inside she could see light, the crags in the ceiling giving way to divine sunshine. Pulling Cynder by the shoulder, Gilda flapped her wings with every last ounce of her waning strength, propelling them closer and closer to the safe haven. Colder….closer….colder….closer Thoughts blurred together, each of their minds driven now by the reins of self preservation. With one last flap of her wings, Gilda catapulted herself and Cynder against the rocks, scraping flesh and scale along jagged edges, however numb they were. Landing hard on unyielding, uneven floors, Gilda caught her breath sucking in huge gulps of lukewarm air, chest heaving with effort as she clutched at her chest, rolling along the floor. Cynder was too tired and cold to do anything apart from suck in air, hardly moving aside from that. The dragoness gas her eyes closed, a rough, bleeding gash on the side of her face from the serrated rocks along the entrance. Turning to face the dragon, Gilda heaved herself up slightly, crawling along the floor, her claw reached out, grabbing Cynder blanketed cloak from the floor. Grimacing as she shook it weakly, the griffin removed as much of the snow as possible, laying it over the trembling, hypothermic dragon. Pulling her closer, Gilda held her freezing form firmly against her, desperately warming the dragon up. Cynder opened her eyes blearily, giving the Griffin a weak smile, coated with dried red blood. Raising a trembling paw, the delirious dragon laid the shaking appendage across Gilda’s chest, smiling with a nod. Sighing in relief, Gilda went slack against the wall, holding the dragon close as fatigue slipped in between every muscle in her body. Cynder was trembling still, but the dragoness seemed to have fallen into slumber, judging by the gentle rise and fall of her magenta chest. Closing her own eyes with a weak cough, Gilda choked down a sob, lying against the wall with a shaking sigh. This world had never seemed so evil, so harsh. Life hadn't ever been easy, but never had it been so cold, callus, so ruthless. Her body soon went slack, sleep claiming her in that dark cave. The morning did not come for a long time. ---------------- These Final Hours This path was dark, so very dark, it's tunnels continuing on forever, a labyrinth so it seemed. Gilda knew this path well, however her sense were clouded, fatigue draining her mind, hunger clawed at her stomach. Thirst welled in her throat, the scratchiness causing her far more discomfort than usual, sensory deprivation had seen to that. Their food lingered inside leather bags, for they could not stop, lest they lose their way. It had long since grown cold, lying wrapped in thick sheets of flexible metal. Each clawstep clacked against the granite ground, echoing dimly in the silent tunnel, it form illuminated through the ceiling by tiny cracks, splitting the roof of their coffin slightly. They had been on this journey since morning’s light had broken the cave, waking them from their peaceful slumber, back to embrace the world. Fatigue dulled their bones, quaking their muscles and slowing their senses. Despite this, they continued on, blindly following this never ending tunnel. Minutes blurred together, hours flying by in this dark abyss. Gilda walked, onwards she trekked, the dragoness behind her gazing upon the dark as though it were the brightest moon. Even for Gilda, the Griffin having walked this ten mile long tunnel many a time, had never felt quite so uncomfortable, the dropping of moisture upon her form not helping. Hours of walking, not a single stop along the way, the fear of the dark being quite the reality. Cynder did not share this sentiment, though her mind was still encompassed in the algid reaches of the outside, the past rendering her silent. For the Gilda, the darkness was crushing, an all consuming monster that preyed upon her frayed nerves, making her squirm at every little noise, her heart in a frenzy, visions of nightmarish, pulsing shadows pulling her into the corners. The abyss lasted for an eternity, crushing the pair by silence and darkness, ending as abruptly as it had began. Gilda and Cynder both nearly cried at the sight of the sun streaming through a point at the end of the crawl-space. Claustrophobia had tightened its grip on the pair that they could hardly breathe as the light approached, legs scrambling on stone as they began to run. The otherworldly aura that encompassed that hole on the wall was swiftly expunged, the divine glow of the sun burning down on them, warming fur and scale alike. Triumphant cries echoed along the bleak soundscape of the plateaus, they alone stood atop the peak. Down in the valley, it stood proud, looming over the forests and plains that surrounded it, the only thing larger than its majesty were peaks that guarded the city, standing watch like god-sent sentinels. Gold and silver, the city glowed under the sun, a towering pinnacle of architecture and engineering complete with massive metal and wood walls, massive spires of steel, an immeasurable sea of buildings hiding beneath the highest of structures, those that transcended the brush below. Gilda had seen this sight before, yet following such an ordeal, the glowing city had never been so gorgeous. Her legs quaked and a massive grin came to her face. Beside her, Cynder was in similar awe, eyes wide and wondrous at the sight before her, the great city rivalled Warfang, surpassing it in sheer beauty. Each glinting beacon along the horizon of gold drew her further in, the warm sheen of the griffin capital driving away the bitter cold that had stuck to her bones for the last three week, it couldn’t hold a candle to the majestic warmth of that flaming beacon of gold and silver. Gilda felt like they were over the hill, the comfortable blanket of home now settling over her. The first thing she would do when they got through those gates was to find a warm inn and snuggle under a quilted nest for a day. Or two. A good meal, one that wasn’t a hard hunted deer or scraps from rabbits, but an actual well crafted meal from a slaughterhouse. Her mouth watered at the thought of it, the griffin’s empty stomach growling with displeasure. Though despite her transfixion, Gilda knew they had a job to do, one that may or may not be the end of her. Even with this knowledge, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the worst was behind them, back in that hopeless, miserable winter forest. Just the idea that death was soon to follow didn’t do much to surprise the hen, the ordeal of the endless sea of trees had done enough to dissuade whatever childish assertions she had about the nature of this task, for it would demand more of her moral compass than just that of playing hide and seek inside the castle. She had never killed a thinking, breathing being. Never spilled a life in cold blooded murder. The more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that she had been purposefully avoiding that thought the entire way through this whole thing. Looking back on it, her plan had been strung together out of desperation anyway, a hapless attempt to prevent her father’s death. The hen retained most of her innocence, not having known the feeling of slaughtering another griffin, or a pony for that matter, in cold blood. In saving her father’s life she had neglected in uncomfortable truth, the idea that she may have to trade someone else’s for his. Gulping loudly, the griffin clutched at the ground, doing her absolute best to steel her nerves. Cynder apparently noticed her increasing distress, perhaps reading her thoughts all that well. The dragon tapped her shoulder, causing her gaze to fly wildly over to her. “Come on, we got a job to do. We’ll get through this.” Cynder put a paw over her shoulder, gripping her tightly with firm, but reassuring eyes. “Together.” The dragon’s voice carried a renewed strength, perhaps having felt the same sense of relief that the worst was behind them. Gilda nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, following the dragon as she began the long trek down the valley, towards the city. Before she began to walk, Gilda took one last look to mountains to her rear, eyeing the shadow cloaked peaks with unflinching determination. Fear had clouded her mind once before, she wouldn’t let it do the same now. Their mission was simple on paper, just a few nicks in the plans could set fire to the whole operation as well as make her a target, a thought that hadn’t occurred to her until just now. Getting through the gates would be easy, aside from her draconic companion who would have to find another means through the walls. Following that, they had discussed Cynder making some kind of diversion, either that or silencing their opposition along the route towards the military district. Destroying the documents was the easy part, however finding them would be an altogether harder task, for her father’s death certificate was hidden deep in the backlog of criminal offenses, court martials piling up behind a pile of smaller cases. Gilda silently thanked the inefficiency of Griffin law otherwise his demise would’ve happened long ago. What then? Well, the escape from the city would be fairly easy if everything went according to plan, as it was much harder to enter the city than it was to leave the place. Though if the alarm was tripped….well…. She would cross that road when it came to it. The prospect of murder lurked inside her, it’s vile touch turning the simplistic plan into one of moral ambiguity, and that very thought gave her a fair amount of alarm. One step at a time, that was the idea, just focus of avoiding conflict, they had already been through enough of that. Her eyes wandered to the mountains, the ominous presence of which she had never known to fear, now seemed so much more frightening. Nature had struck at her with the viciousness of an angered rattlesnake, sending a dose of venomous fear deep into her core. Sivyj Yar was behind them, but Den Gyldne Herligheten loomed before them. The Golden City, it’s spire glinted before her, yet it was nothing, far from as imposing as what stood behind even Sivyj Yar, the most primordial entities of nature. Trees so tall they can not be felled. > Fading False Dawn > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The soil, cold, wet, and hard, crushed beneath his claws. The sleet from the previous night clung to the ground like a tick, wetting the earth below and creating a chilly, damp surface. Despite the chill, it did nothing to halt the young dragon’s march, his breath steady and his stride unyielding. The autumn sun reflected off his pale purple scales, its heavenly glow painting his otherwise faded scales, a pleasantly rich mixture of warm orange and fiery red. The shadow of the woods beside him drenched one side of his body in murky darkness, the shadows contrasting the warmth of the sun with the cold obscurity of the woods. An earthy smell hung in the air, its stench colored by the tinges of dirt and wood, the smell of rain. Winds brought the smell to the forefront of his mind, the natural odor of life and the wild wilderness making his breathing hitch and his heart hammer ponderously. It smelled like her. A soundscape decorated by the chirping of birds and the croaking of frogs echoed lightly around the swampy landscape, his claws squishing in the cold, muddy dirt. He paid no mind to the dirty mud painting his vibrant scales a muted grey, mind elsewhere. The horizon, so far off, shone with autumn glory. His violet eyes gained some clarity, the glazing effect vanishing. The dragon cast his gaze over his shoulder, the rustling of leaves gaining his attention. Slowing his stride to a near stop, the dragon focused his hardened gaze upon the brush to his rear. Nothing moved, only the wind, brushing over the reds and oranges of falling leaves and contorting branches. It was of no expense to him. Resuming his slow pace, the purple dragon trudged along, running a paw over the thick reeds and brushing the tall grasses. Ever slowly the sun continued to sink below the horizon, flowing rivers of gold coloring the fall leaves in a dense haze. Reflecting off his eyes, the sunlight gave him pause. Turning his eyes upward, he closed them for a moment, basking in the heat of the wheel of fire that began to fade, enjoying the warmth as though it was to be the last sunset he would ever see. The dragon took a deep breath, crisp air flowing into his lungs. Wincing at the roughness of his throat, the dragon let a tongue of flame escape his maw, the fiery orange warming his face for the briefest of moments before it fizzled out into a tiny plume of black smoke. The wind brushed over his wings, carrying the scent of light smoke, along with the more overbearing smell of earth and crisp air, holding the scent of cinnamon and fallen leaves. It smelled like a place he had once known. Home. Opening his eyes with a small, bittersweet smile on his face, the male resumed his walk, spreading his wings, letting the pleasant breeze blow over them, the cold air soothing his aching muscles with just the right amount of tenderness. Over the next few minutes, the skyline became gradually more diluted by orange and red. The final twilight had approached. Spreading his wings wide, the dragon took to the sky, a tuft of disturbed grass teasing off the ground with the light force of his spring. Catching a quick shift in the wind, the male pumped his wings, soaring high up into the air. Just on the precipice of where the clouds met sky did he dwell. The coldest of breezes blew by him, making him shiver, along with a chill racing down his spine, one that contrasted the warm glowing sun. Below, the land was painted in a hue of red and gold, its color saturating the greens and browns of the earth to the point of near opaqueness. Eyes glowing, he glided along the current, wings catching both the gales of wind and the bright hue of gold and burgundy sunlight. Usually, the cold may have convinced him to land and walk among the warmth of the earth. However, today was no ordinary day, and he planned to take his time. He was going to remember this day, for better or for worse. His vision was momentarily clouded by a beam of light, one that he shifted a paw to cover, this brought the attention of his mind to the numerous intense layers of scarring around his arms, jagged cuts and rough patches of scaled hide, crushed and smashed into paste. Unpleasant memories flooded to the surface, days of pain and blood surrounding his powerful mental barriers. Inside each memory was a figure, now blurred and malleable to the current of each vision. In one the figure lay bleeding, shadows obscuring its features. Another portrayed a much different light, with him gazing to the side at it, a content and happy expression present, while the figure was blurred and hard to understand. His chest became tight, and he brought a paw to it, clenching it over his scarred plates with a grimace. It did not matter, his destination was already in sight. A large hill, desolated and lonesome, overlooked by the sunset, painting the greens and browns in an overbearing orange. He gazed upon it, an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes glistened. A tree, a single lonely occupant sat atop the mound. Painted in red and splotched with both orange leaves and golden light, its shade sat underneath, undisturbed. Even from a distance, he could just barely make out the faintest movement in its leaves and the swaying of the trunk in the gentle wind. With a shaking first step, he began the ascent up the gentle slope of the hill, heart beating faster with each step. That sound, it was familiar to him, from a place far away, locked inside memory and forgotten by time. Crickets chirped, birds sung, and the last noises of twilight descended into those of night. Visions of waterfalls, of peaceful nights and longing stretches of silence. He could almost see a pair of emerald eyes staring right back at him. Step by step, he climbed. He could hear it now, the gentle laughter and lightest clinking of slightly loose metal against scales. It lingered, just upon the faintest of crickets, out of sight. He did not stop his ascent, he knew he would not be able to resume otherwise. It was visible now, the spot at the top of this seemingly isolated hill. Calling to him in the faintest of whispers, he looked behind him, an expression mixed with a surreal sense of both terror and longing. Cloaked in shadow, the forest called to him. He slammed his eyes shut, heart hammering. Just in the faintest of lights, where she had stood, just a shadow, those piercing emerald eyes looking at him longingly. He clenched his paws in the dirt, cold, wickedly unyielding. The dragon heard her whispers, pushing against his skull, drowning him in her presence. With a paw clenched tightly over his muzzle, covered in dried mud and caked red, he lowered his head. There she had once stood, in this very spot. She had spoken to him here, right before they had been chased into the clutches of death. It was here that she had spoken her last actual words to him. It was here where she would remain. A monument to his best friend, his life-mate, and his most fantastic accomplishment. He could still hear the whispering words, “When this is all over, I want you to promise me something.” The dragon dug his paw into the earth, it glowing a faint green. With a hint of exertion, he let the earth clump around his claws. Forming a fissure in the ground just before him, the dragon allowed the glow dissolve into a much darker green. In the space of the cleft, a near black substance of rock filled the void. A claw rested against his shoulder, yet he did not turn, “We never let them control us again. For better or for worse.” Under the shadow of the tree, he let a trickle of flames run along his claws, pressing them deep into the tar. With a sound like the gentlest of crunching leaves, the fire ignited. They were a vibrant red, undisturbed by the surrounding cold. A wing ran along his back, “Never let the world do this again, we’ll run free of the past.” Forming a mound of dirt, he willed the cold, damp earth to rise. It morphed slowly, contorting around the edges of the flames. As if with a mind of its own, the fire gently flowed against the hardening stone. A tail intertwined with his own, “We can finally be free of this war, finally enjoy a life of our own.” With a final, soundless clamping of stone and dirt, the spiral-shaped mound surrounded the flames. Lifting a claw, he poked a few holes along the surface of the clay, letting just the lightest of flames seep out. As he shifted his stance, the clicking of something in the light bag he carried between his wings made itself known. A paw ran over one of his own, “We’ll find somewhere, somewhere so far that nobody will know our names.” He lifted the tiny piece of crystal in his paw, a gift from Twilight. It shone like the brightest diamond, yet its color was of the darkest coal, an iridescent shade of dark red coloring where the light would run along its surface. It was perfect. The wind blew over his body, yet he shivered not because of this light wind, but because of something much colder. Taking a shaking breath, he committed the gem to the stone structure, a place it fit perfectly. Raising his claw, he slightly scratched a rune into the front of the spiral fountain. Simple and unassuming. A one letter rune, the word for 'wind' Her ghostly breath blew over his cheek, “Never again would we have to bleed for others.” A tear slid down his cheek, a slight smile appearing on his face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against the gem, a powerful sense of longing compelling him, one like no other. For the first time in hours, he made a sound, the slightest of whimpers sliding out of his as he held the gem like a child he would never see again. His body shook, and tears freely slid down his cheeks, impacting the fountain with barely audible taps, illuminated by the fiery sunscape. Pulling away with a shaking set of paws, the dragon gave one last look at the fountain, before trudging over to the tree, where it overlooked both the setting sun and the Everfree forest. Laying down against the thick trunk of the tree, he gazed at the sun as it nearly vanished beneath the horizon. Closing his eyes for a few moments, the dragon lay his head back against the bark, his horns digging ever so slightly into it. “I would like to live and die by your side, my best friend.” He opened his eyes, meeting her ghostly gaze as the phantom stood just at the edge of the forest. Spyro held the phantom’s gaze for a long time. Eventually, the warmth of the sun faded below the horizon, it’s light gone. It was then that she disappeared from sight, her emerald irises no longer visible. Sighing dismally, the dragon gave a look to the glowing fountain beside him. The gem sparkled under the moonlight. A small grin graced his muzzle, and he closed his eyes, bittersweet and longing. Under the moon, under her watchful eye, the dragon let himself slip away, the stress catching up with him. As the stars came out, as the sun faded to darkness and tranquility, he felt his mind wander. Images of the past and the future, indistinguishable from each other, flitted around in his head. Pictures of her, thoughts of the memories he had shared. Visions of the future, a life spent honoring her legacy. He knew in his heart that he would never honestly lose her presence, but the thought of losing her image, of losing the very soul of that dragoness to the unyielding flow of time was a thought that petrified him to the very core. However, he knew one thing for certain. Spyro knew that she would keep him alive just as he had her. The memory of his best friend, the one who had become his companion through the harshest winters and most blistering summers, he knew, deep down, that she would be proud of him wherever he went. Just maybe it would be enough. Spyro breathed lightly, his words nearly lost in the nightly breeze. “I would love that, my dear friend.” ------------------- > The Return.... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gold, gold as far as the eye could see. It stretched from horizon to horizon, a solid wall of glittering halcyon, neverending. The walls towered above them, over two hundred feet into the night sky. Before them, torches stuck to the wide gates of the checkpoint ahead lit the path in a bold orange glow, one that felt pleasantly warm against the cold wind chill. Gilda pressed forward, an antsy nervousness bleeding in her movements, clouding her sensibilities in anxious fear. The paved stone clicked under her claws, a feeling somewhat akin to happiness building in her gut, for she was finally home. Yet her stomach tumbled. Home, so close, yet so inexorably far. Up ahead, the checkpoint was quiet, only the faint crackling of torches penetrating the night soundscape. Even in the dim light, the griffin could make out the guard still as a gargoyle on the outside of the massive gateway. Gilda was not surprised; however, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to what was to come. There was no entering the city at night without proper papers, documents which the hen knew she lacked. One of the intricacies of griffinic military code was the emphasis on quality over quantity, not to say the military was small. Despite that, the grip that the king had on the guard was mainly one of convenience. His majesty's reach was wide, too wide in fact, for they would not notice a night guard missing from his keep unto the body would be discovered. The hen sighed, averting her eyes and whistling lowly. Without missing a beat, the male griffin was dragged into the shadows, a struggle just barely visible before his muffled exclamations went silent and his movements ceased. Gilda felt her stomach curl but opted for an uneasy silence. A shadowy figure stepped over the warm corpse, emerging from the dark like a specter. Cynder's face was a mask as she gave her companion a nod. They shared a brief look, each bearing expressions of grim determination. Gilda did her best to avoid looking at the dragon's bloodstained claws. It took them a few minutes to drag the corpse a substantial distance from the gate, hiding it away under a nest of brush for the scavengers to hopefully pick apart quickly. Sickness dwelled inside the hen's stomach. Following behind the slightly larger female, Gilda tried her damndest to quell the nerves racking her skull, but no respite from the turmoil could be found. Sighing in resignation, the hen merely trailed along as they scaled the checkpoint, slipping through the gate quickly. The city inside was dark, night having overtaken the ordinarily bustling metropolis in peaceful quiet. Many of the buildings close to the gate were smaller markets and the like, some devoid of pieces of structure altogether, poorly constructed shelters. Along the walls surrounding them, the vague shadowy forms of patrols could be seen slowly crossing the towering pathways. The structures of the guards became barely visible as they eclipsed the bright torches hanging on the walls. Morphing with the shadowy alleyways in-between buildings and along the crags of broader markets, the griffin maneuvered through the nearly empty streets with practiced ease. The cold breeze beside her that followed just out of sight was all the indication of where her draconic friend had gone. Further up the street, Gilda heard the sound of a lowly spoken conversation. Aligning herself with the sides of the alley, the griffin changed her stance, lowering her body and adopting as much of a hidden pose as her form would allow. Three figures trotted past the alley, not giving it a second thought. Gilda released the breath, one she hadn't been aware of holding, body drooping a little. Up ahead a bit, claws scraped against the stone walls, scrambling up the stone walls and onto the tops of buildings around her. "I'll keep watch." A familiar voice whispered along the wind, the texture of resemblance to flowing silk, so quiet she almost didn't catch it. Grumbling lowly at the idea of being grounded and unhidden, Gilda poked her head out of the alley, scanning the road ahead. A post with several arrows stood in the middle of the street, indicators pointing in four separate directions. Once Gilda's quick check was complete did the hen leave her shelter, crossing the street as casually as she could feign. As much as Gilda knew the city, she hadn't been in every part of it, especially not the slums like this, and even more so without the benefit of wings and sunlight to aide her trek. Written in bold, bright lettering, the sign pointed her along the various different streets. Claws digging absentmindedly against the cobblestone road, Gilda thought hard for a moment. The inn closest to them was still a kilometer or two down one of the streets, and they needed to stop soon. It had taken only a brief glance to know that Cynder was exhausted, despite her best attempts to hide it. If she could be honest with herself, the hen felt a similar level of fatigue deep in her bones, yet they had to push forward. Despite the trying circumstances, Gilda was more than aware that they had some time to work with here. Cynder would probably object to it, given her disciplined inclinations, but the pair could undoubtedly use a day or two to rest and formulate a more in-depth plan on how to go about this task. Among the lowly buildings stood a towering behemoth in the distance, warm orange lights glowing further and more brightly than the stars above. The beacon stood largely unopposed on the skyline, just shy of a few kilometers away. Gilda knew the sight instantly, the glow bringing back memories of her days past when the city had seemed so warm, so safe. Standing in the desecrated and dilapidated slums, the towering haven looked so much more godly than it had before. A cold wind blew past, ruffling her feathers and sending an uncontrollable shiver racing down the hen’s spine. Her claws clenched the stone tightly, tearing marks in the unforgiving ground. Whistling anxiously, Gilda took off down the street, weaving between alleyways and jumping lightly. Flapping her wings once, the griffin pounced against the wall of the alleyway, bouncing off of it and landing hard against the roof of the blighted stone shack. The griffin didn’t bother to turn and acknowledge the dragoness, cloaked in shadows as she was, it would be futile to do so. Instead, Gilda hopped the buildings, gaining traction with several quick pumps of her wings, wind gliding along her feathers and stinging her eyes. Darkness cloaked her form, aided by the splitting shadows racing along beside her. Moonlight ached and bled across the deathly quiet city, encompassed only by the mournful coughing of the poor and embittered and the filtering of sighs and moans from the impoverished and pained. The tower stood above the rest, looming over the night like a sentinel, watching the devastation and anguish below with apathy and indifference. Cynder gnashed her teeth, the sound distorted by shadows into a crunching, bassy mix. Gilda felt her hackles rise at the noise, knowing just as well that her companion was far from happy at the carnage. Such was the slums, a place of death and pain, where only the strong and quick of wit survived the gangs and violence that emerged from the outskirts. The King, only a king to those who could stand and speak without retribution. Gilda tasted venom. Ignoring the unsettling murmurs from the shadowy mass beside her, the griffin pushed upon the stones hard, accidentally smashing a dent in the hard brick, sending skiters of rock to the ground below. A harsh crash resounded in the air, making a voice in the dark cry out in fear. Gilda frowned. How much had the situation here degraded since her last visit, nearly five years ago? A king, seated at the top of the castle, cloaked in gold and silver, built upon a foundation of bones and sinew. “What a disgrace.” Gilda thought disdainfully, remembering the benevolence of the father of that wretched ruler, a griffin of infernal apathy and aggression. Even among a species as chronically aloof as hers, such a frightening lack of regard for his subjects was unsettling. Gilda gave a disappointed smirk, turning her head almost absentmindedly to the phantom racing just a ways ahead of her, the form nearly unnoticeable from the dark skyline. A nest of clouds lay, hiding the moonlight and reducing it’s light to mere splinters upon the sleeping city. Under the sparkling, splintered moonlight, a series of figures, tall and majestic loomed just upon the horizon. Gilda felt a shiver race across her spine, the shapes unmistakable. She had heard the rumors, the whispering upon her line of contacts, but never had she truly believed it. Siege engines, massive and towering, the forms of the giant cannons were impossible to miss. If there was one perk to the rule of the young king, it was his violent conquest of the splintered griffinic kingdoms under one banner. His banner. The atrocities that had been committed in the name of unification were hard to ignore, yet his rule had yielded it for the first time in millennia. Such weapons could only mean one thing: Conquest of other kingdoms. Gilda didn’t like the idea, as although her feelings for Equestria were mixed, death and chaos was not something it deserved. Likewise, she felt a cold mass saddle up beside her. Upon the wind, whispering around her head in a pervasive echo, the words were clear. “War is coming.” It was a simple declaration, naught a trace of questioning in her voice. Gilda grimly nodded, feeling the mass jettison itself away and back several feet. Cynder peeled off, disappearing from sight, just as discussed, leaving Gilda to run the next minute or so in relative silence. The griffin continued forward, hopping the last few building before landing gracefully in a side alley, crouching low in the darkness. Drawing up to her full height, the griffin cautiously exited the alley, casually strolling over to the dimly lit entrance, several torches hanging over the edge of the overhanging pillars. Her satchel clinked lowly as it jostled against her form, the metal coins inside cold to the touch. A foray into the surprisingly spacious and fancy inn was uncommon for most, so the inn was sparse and empty, save for a griffin, cleaning something behind a counter. Surprisingly, he wore clothes, although it was merely an expensive looking vest and undershirt. Gilda couldn’t help but raise a brow at that. Just behind him, she could see he lacked wings, carrying instead a set of spines along his back. That drew another brow raise from the hen; his kind was not common in this neck of the woods. The bartender turned as her claws clinked on the marble flooring, giving her a practiced and uniform look. The griffin was not a fool, she could fancy a guess her appearance was less than impressive, fur matted and feathers unkempt. Whether or not he cared, the keythong made no indication, merely fixing her with a professional nod and bow, greeting her in formal griffinic. “Good evening, how may I be of service madame?” He raised from his bow, resting his claws on the desk, folded and with evident care taken for them to be close to him. Gilda momentarily was thrown for a second, reminding herself of the formal dialect and switching tongues before she spoke Equestrian. She noted the slightest brow raised as her initial wording was in the language of ponies before she redirected her chords. “Uh… I need a room for the night.” He nodded once, his face remaining calm and impassive. “Would that be all miss?” The hen nodded, a bit whizzed out by the formal language and mannerisms of the tender. She had expected the Tower to have someone more accustomed to the rougher crowds working the night, not this joker. He would be better placed in the castle than the Tower. After forking over the bits, Gilda hurriedly found the stairwell, flying straight up the middle of the shaft, finding the proper room after a quick scan. Her vision was sharper than just about any other species, given her heritage being part eagle, however, the cloud of exhaustion was slowing her considerably. Stenciled in fancy bold letters, the number on the room contrasted the dark oaky texture of the wooden door nicely, not that Gilda cared for such unnecessary necessities of construction and interior design. Feeling a weight lift on her shoulders as she landed, the hen stumbled over to the door, leaning a bit on the wall as she became light-headed, steadying herself with a quick deep breath. Fumbling with the key in her talons, she grabbed the knob in one and pushed the key into the hold of the metal latch. Twisting the key inside the latch, the hen quickly pushed her way inside. Fumbling in the dark for a moment, she was startled and jumped when one of the lamps suddenly shot to life, revealing the onyx dragoness standing in the room. It was just then when Gilda noticed the breeze from the open window at the forefront of the room. Heart-hammering, Gilda stuttered out a flustered response to the dragoness’s quirked brow. “How did you… I hadn't hit the light, how'd you know where I was?” The flustered hen stammered, placing a paw over her chest. Cynder didn't respond for a moment, merely eyeing the griffin with a twinkle of amusement in her bright jade eyes. Her claws clicked on the floor as she meandered around the spacious interior for a moment, turning her eyes to the still startled hen. “Over the wind,” Cynder smirked, brow dropping. “I could hear your heartbeat.” There was a noticeable droop to her normally sharp tone, one that lacked its usual tempered heat, instead, it was cool and almost dissociative. Despite the alarming nature of the words spoken, Gilda oddly found herself more concerned with her tone of voice more than anything else. Gilda felt her feathers twitch, an odd note of fear shooting down her spine. The dragoness paid her no mind, instead going over to the nest of nearly arranged blankets in the corner, pulling a few over to the opposite corner. The blankets were simple, yet strikingly elegant, portraying various insignias and Celtic symbols. Before the griffin could speak, her immediate hunger made itself known, stomach rumbling, a sound that was immense in the quiet room. Gilda’s cheeks once again burned red, the dragoness was unable to do much other than smile quietly in the corner, her eyes drooping considerably. Too tired to even be embarrassed, Gilda gave a sheepish half-smile, the female dragon in the corner giving her a smirk out of the corner of her eye. The blankets did a remarkable job in the dim lighting of hiding the many scars decorating her body, the dark colors of the fabric rendering the dragoness somewhat hard to see. From her nest of blankets, Cynder curled up, stretching her body out with a forceful yawn, revealing her fangs and spreading her damaged wings out wide. With the casts gone and in better light, the griffiness could see the extent of the scarring and it made her cringe. Along the surface of the phalanges and arms were numerous small scars that gave the surface of her scales a duller appearance, almost most of a grey than the stunning onyx black that they had assumedly once been. Even the presumably bright magenta membranes had shriveled up heavily, multiple large gouges in each. If the dragoness noticed the staring, she made no mention, instead curling up into a tighter ball, wrapping her tail around herself, the blade shining in the dim lantern light. Something occurred to the hen at that moment, a revelation she had just realized in totality. She had always assumed that the dragoness being so far away from home weighed heavily upon her thoughts, but the way the dragoness slept, comfortably but cautiously, it almost gave her pause. Maybe, she never really had a home, she just made a home wherever, a true nomad. Cynder had never gone into detail about exactly where she had come from, however, the hen could almost feel like she knew the dragon by heart. Their short time together had been one of trial by fire. Perhaps that was why she never spoke of home. She simply didn’t have one. Gilda frowned sadly. Gilda was more than apathetic enough to the mannerisms of the other female to understand that the uncomfortable conversation of their mission would have to wait till sunrise. Hidden behind a curtain of black scales, the dragoness was out before a minute had passed. Gilda herself felt the fatigue weighing heavily on her. As hungry as she was the idea of a full night’s rest in a warm room was too tempting to pass up, a far cry from the blizzards and freezing nights out in those woods. The griffin shivered, an unnatural dread flowing through her veins at the fresh memory of that struggle, of those nights of frigid cold and the long walk through the primordial trees. Outside, the city awaited a morphing, contorting beast that would do its very best to snuff out the light of those that rebel. Gilda looked deep into the fire of the lamp, watching with muted interest as it billowed and moved. Pride swelled in her chest and the fear that had plagued her miraculously started to dissipate She glanced once more towards the window, slowly padding over and closing it, the lock clicking audibly. She gave another quick glance at the moon, clouded in places but still shining high in the night sky. Home. She was home. If the day came and blood was spilled then all she could do was look over, to the dragoness, her companion with pride. Tomorrow is a fine day to die. ----------- The morning light was warm, smooth, and beautiful. Cynder hated it. She hated it with a passion, for it disturbed her sleep, her blissful, comfortable sleep. Growling distastefully, she rolled over from the overbearing reach of the sun, burying her face in the blanket. Wiggling her back, she burrowed deep into the fabric, unaware of the confused and slightly amused look that the hen was giving her from the counter. Cynder herself was totally unaware of this, continuing to attempt to snooze. Rolling her eyes, Gilda whistled lowly, causing the dragoness to freeze and groan in annoyance. Grinning viscously, Gilda unrolled the foil on both her and the dragoness’s meal, something that dragoness smelled immediately, forgetting entirely about the disturbed sleep. Throwing the blankets off her with a vengeance, the dragoness rushed forward, almost stumbling over to her griffin companion as she tripped over blankets and the occasional cushion. The nearly bloodthirsty look, both literally and figuratively, that took over the dragon’s face at the prospect of hot food. “By the ancestors that smells wonderful!” Cynder practically moaned as she snatched the bowl and plate from the amused hen, tipping the bowl back and sucking down the delicious soup. A diet of cold, fresh meat wasn’t something dragons weren’t completely unaccustomed to, but three weeks of those conditions….well. She forgot that train of thought as the food rested comfortably and warmly in the pit of her stomach. “What’s the plan?” Gilda mumbled as she began to eat at a much more reasonable pace than her draconic companion. Cynder cast her a look as the griffin continued to mumble, realizing that the other female was talking more to herself than anyone else. Racking the sleepiness from her brain, Cynder began to think as she walked over to the window and paced. Along the still sleeping city, those monolithic stone towers stood tall, soaring over the buildings below. Cynder’s keen eyes picked out a hardly noticeable detail. Just at the cusp of each of the towers of castle’s spire was a series of small overhangs, straddling the thin stone liner. Such designs bore an abundance of structural integrity from above, but if one were to strike underneath with enough force, they could break through. Under the cover of night, she would be able to sneak in practically invisible to all but the most astute observer. Another piece of the massive castle stood out from here. The spires themselves spiraled upwards, a feature which more than likely mean a long set of spiral staircases was the only way up and down the towering pillars of metal and stone. The dragon cast her eyes back towards her companion with the beginnings of a plan already in the works. She needed the plans to the building, otherwise there would be too many unknowns to create a strategy of attacking the castle. If this city worked anything like Warfang, the blueprints to the building would be stored within either the inner seat of government in the castle itself or some kind of other architectural departments somewhere else in the city. Implying that the plans still existed, she was hoping for the later. All they needed was a path to wherever the hell the information they were here to destroy was located, anything else would have to be a secondary objective, no matter how objectionable the means. They didn’t have the luxury of knowledge or time, and both they were short on. “One step at a time, I suppose.” She snapped a claw, getting the attention of the griffin without turning from the window. Cynder could feel the golden eyes on the back of her head. With an exasperated sigh, Cynder turned and regarded her feathered companion. A frown formed on her lips and she trailed the outline of the doorframe warily. “A few questions.” The dragoness turned once more to the window, gazing at the enormous towering pillars of the castle in the center of the city. Somewhere in that mass of stone and metal was their target, a simple unassuming piece of paper with a few words printed on it. The oddness of the situation was not lost on her, the frown on her face morphing into a scowl for the briefest of moments. Even with her back turned, Gilda’s raised brow burned a hole in her back. “First, any idea how much time we have before the files get processed?” Gilda coughed lightly, the sound of claws scuffing the floor just barely audible. “Most documents on ‘traitors’ are processed second in the queue.” “Meaning?” Cynder leered lowly, jade eyes glinting in the sunlight. “If it hasn’t been filed away already, we may have a few days.” Cynder sighed. The holes in this little plan of theirs were evident from the beginning, but now that they were in the thick of things those holes were much, much harder to ignore than when they had been trudging through the winter mountains. Collapsing to her haunches with a groan, Cynder fumbled with her bracers, mind whirling. Counting from ten, the dragoness took in the information they had, not much, but they had to start somewhere. “Alright, then we need to find out if they already have been processed. If that’s the case then this is gonna become difficult.” A memory from their first meeting returned to her mind. “You mentioned a contact when we first talked.” Gilda clicked her tongue once, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, I guess he is our first lead. He’s an old friend of mine from when I was young, we kept in touch.” Cynder turned her head, regarding the hen with a single raised brow. The hen narrowed her eyes and avoided the amused glance from the dragon. “Oh buzz off. I may be cold, but I’m not completely alone.” “Could’ve fooled me.” Cynder turned her head once more, missing the scathing glare that the hen leveled at her. With that thought in mind, Cynder pondered the next step. Realistically she wasn’t needed at this meeting, so perhaps she could occupy another task. The proverbial light bulb flickered on. “Regardless if the files have been confirmed, we need to know the rough layout of the castle. Where would the blueprints be stored?” Gilda seemed taken aback for a moment, raising a claw and plucking her feathers absentmindedly. “Huh. I really have no clue, but I would guess either the keep or somewhere with the Mason’s Guild. Cynder thought for a moment. “The Masons….” She mumbled to herself, deep in thought. That seemed more likely than the keep by any means. Whenever the castle needed to be renovated, it was likely that the guild was paid for the task, meaning they would need the plans to the building itself on hand. That was the idea anyway. “The latter seems more likely, by any means.” Cynder murmured lowly turning back to her companion. “Where is this guild at anyhow?” Gilda blanked for a moment, eyes glazing over as she tilted her head to one side, apparently thinking hard. It took her a minute or two to recall the exact location, a piece of information she had offhandedly seen a very long time ago. “I think it’s a large four-story building with a spiral tower on the top. If I remember correctly it’s painted red.” The griffin seemed sure enough, and so Cynder nodded lightly, running a claw over her braces, scritching at the cold steel. “Alright, well, in that case, I believe we should get to work. You find out what you can from this contact of yours, I’ll see what I can do about the plans. Meet back here by dusk.” Gilda harrumphed her affirmation, padding over to the window with her draconic companion. A mile or so in the distance the castle stood, unyielding and cold below the warm glow of the sun. “Try to stay out of sight, we don’t need people asking questions as to why there is a dragon in the city. They and us are not on the best of terms.” Cynder tilted her head as she stepped outside over the railing, hanging precariously above the ground. “Is that so? Why did your family save me then?” The dragoness was genuinely curious. Gilda didn’t answer immediately, taking the long way back to the door frame, seemingly to keep appearances. She stood for a moment unmoving. With a small turn of her head, she gazed at the leaning dragoness out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve made mistakes in my life, one that I really regret.” The hen turned her head fully to look at Cynder. “That mistake believed in helping others. I won’t make that same mistake again, not with you.” Without another word, Gilda lumped her small leather pack across her back and stepped through the door. Cynder watched her leave, eyes downcast. Quietly, she whispered a low, murmured thanks and slid down the building blending into the shadows of the alleyway. This was no time for sentiment. --------------- The hen had forgotten just how crowded the streets of the inner half of the city could be. Compared to the slummy parts of town, they were as congested as the underworld. Grimacing as she pushed her way through the crowds, she tightened the cloak around her shoulders. Amongst the loud noises of the busy marketplace, she could see the rising hill that her presumed target most likely resided in. Within the cloak, a slender, sharp dagger clanged against her side, just rough enough to give her pause. Never hurt to be careful. Eyes and ears resided everywhere in a city such as this, ones that she wasn’t too sure she wanted aware of her presence. Hugging the cloak close to her body, the hen wound her way through the bumpy cobblestone roads, crossing small bridges and pushing through less crowded alleyways en route to the building: a moderately sized tan building, iron grates covering windows and crossed swords adorning the heavy set doors. The barracks was as ancient as the rest of the old city, the newer constructions shining in pristine metallic glory while those of the olden city, muddied with age and cracked with conflict, guarded the castle. It sat alone on this hill, bridges arcing away from it’s form and connecting to multiple roads and pathways, these colored by large, bright homes and inns. Each post was guarded by a small checkpoint, the attendant guard at the one in her sight appearing stoic if a little bored. Pulling the cloak close, the hen hid, nestled in an alleyway. Grabbing hold of the side of the building, she forced her claws into a loose series of cracks within the wall, flaring her wings as he forced her way up the side of the house. Slowly scaling the wall, the hen crouched low atop the roof, watching the building and post carefully. Crawling over to the edge of the structure, she gazed across the building at the post, tracing the separate section of the hill, the moat under the bridges filled with a shallow amount of dirty water. Inching closer to the drop, the hen whistled lowly in frustration as she watched her target, his eyes not straying from the bridge. Looking once again at the moat, Gilda noted the bits of stone and rock that resided at the bottom of the water, an idea popping into her mind. Carefully clutching a loose chunk of stone that protruded from the roof, she pulled it free with a light grunt, aiming her arm back. Tossing the stone over the opposite side of the bridge, over the post, she tumbled off the building, hovering just above the moat cautiously as the stone impacted the water on the opposite side. As the guard became aware of the splash, Gilda scaled the wall of the moat quickly, scrambling onto solid ground and jumping for the nearest bit of cover she could find. Peering over at the post, she breathed a sigh of relief as the griffin returned to his post, looking slightly frustrated, but ever as stoic as before. With the building only a few feet away, she took the advantage she now had on the guard. With deft movements, she strode over to the door, silently gripping the handle. Without a sound, the hen slipped into the darkened building. Inside, the walls were tight, only illuminated by the faint torchlight on the wall. The building was empty as she had predicted, the sun at it’s apex in the sky, meaning it was noon. The only griffins left inside would be information attendants, something an old friend happened to be. The building was familiar, its layout something she had known quite well as a younger chick. This time, her father would not be there to accompany her, the feeling giving the griffiness an odd sense of dread. Slowly crossing the corridor more on muscle memory than thought, she found herself standing in the candlelight of a large, immaculately decorated oak door, baring expensive formations and gorgeous pieces of stones and gems. Underneath the lightly sparkling gems rested a heavy plague, golden and shining. It read: ‘Garon Quorthon’ Raising a claw shakily, she knocked softly three times, before lowering the shaking appendage and resting it on the floor. A quite commotion sounded behind the heavy door, followed by the sound of rowdy cursing in her native tongue. Any fear and uncertainty resting in her stomach were gone now. That was him, no mistaking that voice. The door cracked open, just enough for a tired looking aqua eye to peer outward. Gilda, with her head still mainly obscured by the cloaked forcibly pushed her way inside, eliciting a startled squawk from the occupant in the room. Before she could even raise a claw to her hood or open her beak, the voice was reprimanding her, it’s boyish, yet gruff tone cutting into her. “What is the meaning of this damn it! You can’t just barge into my room!” He growled pointing with a claw towards a plate resting on a desk in the corner of the room. “Especially! Not on my lunch!” The griffin in front of her hadn’t aged much from her last meeting with him in person, some five years ago. His smoky earth colored body was complemented by his bright golden feathers and tuft, and the rage in those azure eyes was unmistakable. The most noteworthy feature was his height, as he stood about a full head shorter than her. “The absolute gall! I have half a mind to gut you for this right here and now!” He growled lowly. Gilda rolled her eyes underneath the black hood, lifting a claw and pulling the garment down across her neck, revealing her face to him. Whatever burning anger lingered in his aqua eyes was replaced by shock, which was then taken over by joy. “I had nearly forgotten how flamboyant you are Quorthon.” Gilda deadpanned as he took a step back. “It still hardly suits your height.” “G-Gilds! It’s been so long, my friend.” He made to embrace her, a motion which she grudgingly allowed. The hen was immensely uncomfortable in his tight embrace, something he was painfully unaware of in his state of joy, blubbering into her feathery tuft. Gilda sighed, expecting no less of the overtly friendly griffin, well, when his food wasn’t in any perceived danger that was. Letting the male get his kicks out of the way, Gilda stepped back forcefully once he released her, the large grin adorning in his face not moving at the perceived discomfort. “Listen, we don’t have much time, I need a favor.” It seemed her words shocked him out of his trance, the male realizing just where she stood, a place she really wasn’t supposed to be. Cursing loudly, he pushed past her, forcing the door shut and locking it quickly. Turning to her with a semi-panicked look on his face, he spoke lowly. “What are you doing here?” There was a note of aggression to his tone, though one that was more driven by fear than anger. Gilda pursed her beak. “It’s about what you wrote to me about.” The deathly tone of her voice hit Quorthon hard, the fearful frown plastered to his face drooping and his eyes lowering. “Did they get to him?” He appeared saddened, not something she was surprised by, but the hen knew his emotion was misplaced. “No, not yet anyway. I need to know if his file has been processed yet.” A thoughtful look came over the male, as he smoothed his ruffled feathers down and calmed himself a bit. Sighing, he gave her a thoughtful nod, motioning to the cluttered desk in the corner. “I received this month's reports to look over this morning. I haven’t gotten through them yet.” Stomach twisting in knots, Gilda nodded taking a seat on the rug in the corner as Quorthon seated himself at the desk, grabbing a thick folder of files. “I guess being the Commodore has it benefits huh?” Gilda observed as she spaced out, looking around the well-furnished room. Along the walls were several bits and pieces of various expensive looking weapons and artifacts of varying sizes and conditions. The spacious room housed a small cot in one corner of the room, the nesting of the bed appearing thick and warm, something necessary as griffins lacked artificial heating. Thick oak and spruce comprised the frame, it’s sheen polished and decadent. Even his desk, although cluttered and clearly unmaintained, appeared immaculate well constructed, held together by sturdy black leather. Even with the unmaintained nature of the griffin in front of her, he appeared to have done well for himself. “Tis only the benefits of being able to trade in morals for a blindfold from time to time, my dear Grizelda.” The clearly fake posh accent did nothing to hide the shame in his words, though his eyes did not convey said sentiment. He was quiet for a moment as he sorted through the folder, pulling various letters down and returning them after a quick look. Quorthon’s eyes zoned in and out of a glossy state, each roll of parchment pulled from the folder being deposited swiftly back into the folder after a moment of observation. Gilda, to her credit, remained still, but clearly impatient, her tail anxiously tapping against the floor and her claws scraping the lining of the rug. It took him less than a few minutes to dig through the remained, before humming a note of affirmation to himself as he found the appropriate list. “Found it. The ‘Kill List’. Ugh, never was very fond of that name, though I guess I applaud their bluntness.” Quorthon gave a rather disgusted twist of his beak. Gilda ignored his comment, eyes focused on his expression. The hen sat up straight watching him carefully as his eyes scanned the length of the rather large list. He mumbled the name as his eyes roamed the length of the paper. Just when he reached the crease that marked the fold of this list, did he stop, expression unreadable. Quorthon met her eyes, a grave tone about his azure orbs. Gilda immediately felt her stomach knot, knowing just what name the other griffin had come across. Her beak opened and the questioned floated off her tongue, one that needed no repeat. “He’s on here. The file was processed.” Quorthon’s mirth had disappeared by this point, understanding the situation quite well. He had seen the process many times before, not it would be happening to a comrade, and his daughter was the first to know. Gilda unconsciously closed her beak grinding her mouth into a fiercely unpleasant scowl. The hen’s wings fluttered violently, her feathers rising and hackles burning with rage. A deep breath left her chest, forcing itself out of her nostrils in a blowout of smoldering air. The endgame had arrived. This just became much more complicated. “Gilda look at me.” Quorthon’s voice carried an uncharacteristic edge, one that immediately forced the hen’s golden eyes to his sharp azure ones. It’s at the end of the list, meaning it could’ve been processed literally yesterday.” She knew what he was getting at, yet that didn’t do much to quell the heated nerves savaging her body and ravaging her mind. “The document can’t be intercepted anymore, the order has been given to a platoon, usually about fifteen soldiers.” His serious eyes gave her no other option, she knew what she had to do. “The order lies with them and them alone. Burn them and the document to the ground and you have your father’s life.” “H-how am I supposed to even know who is in charge of his death!” She half-yelled, exasperated and afraid. Her chin trembled, in both rage and despair. “There are hundreds of platoons in one branch of the military alone.” She got to her feet, pacing around the room, ranting off the top of her head, while her tail lashed dangerously and her wings fluttered angrily. “Not only would I have to find em’, then I’d have to kill-kill!-a group of griffins who just happened to be unlucky enough to be given the task!” Quorthon cut off her ramblings with a sharp whistle, one that startled her harshly. A serious look rested in the older griffin’s eyes, a look she had only seen on one other occasion. “I’m gonna be straight with you kid, this is a line of work you wandered into, one that isn’t pretty. You’ve been given a choice. Them, or your father and potentially your mother.” Gilda opened her beak, protest rising on her tongue, one that Quorthon could see right away. He silenced her with a raised claw, the expression on his face bearing no room for argument. “Don’t be stupid. You know no matter how far you run, they will hunt you down until he’s dead. You’ve been given an opportunity to take care of this right here and now.” He rose from his seat, the letter falling to the rug. He gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to look a little ways down into his cold, blue eyes. “You, thankfully have an ally.” He sighed, padding over to a chest and rummaging through its contents and pulling a black set of robes, neatly folded and pressed clean, from the bottom of the bin. Gilda noted the symbol boldly embroidered on the sleeve of the robes. Her breath left her at the sight of the red dagger, crisscrossed by red lightning bolts. Special Forces Deep Reconnaissance. “I made a promise to your father when he left us. One that I intend to keep.” Quorthon regarded her, a warm smile taking over the serious expression on his face. With the robes in his arms, he moved them over to his cot, laying them carefully under the blanket, just out of sight. Returning to the desk, he laid his wing over the young female’s back. “I got your back kiddo.” With shock still nestled within her being, the unnerving reality that the simple officer she had known had been a trained killer right under her nose, a reality that she had been keenly unaware of this entire time. Gilda was still confused, but with this additional ally in her back pocket, she felt just a little bit less worried now. Maybe things would turn out alright in the end. Just maybe. Sighing, Quorthon picked up the piece of parchment from the floor, the additional fold coming undone from the bottom. The male scoffed at the paper as he began to fold it up once again, eyes absentmindedly scanning the bottom fold, the names he had missed drawing no recognition on his irises. Just as he skimmed through the halfway mark, he stopped, going dead still and unnervingly silent. Gilda picked up on this immediately, her own form, still a bit shaken, getting another bout of nervousness. “W-what is it Quorthon?” He returned her a grave look, eyes dark and feathers ruffled. With a slightly trembling claw, he turned the parchment over, showing her the name right above his claw. Gilda felt her heart stop and her blood turn to icy slush. Grizelda Gruff. --------- From the shadows of the buildings, Cynder crept from her hiding place, the sewers beneath the city. Her shadow split form maneuvered along the stone crevices keeping to the shadows. As her form returned to the physical world, the dragoness crouched low. From under the shelter of the overhanging buildings, the large towering complexes of stone and metal, the dragoness peered along the quiet, well-paved roads, ever on the lookout. The sun had just begun it’s descent below the horizon. Her journey thus far had unpleasant and time-consuming, however, Cynder was patient when the task at hand demanded it, and as such remained focused, emerging from the alley-way quickly. Her crimson cloak hid the majority of her body from prying eyes, however, the dragon did not take chances. Darting into the cover of another alleyway, Cynder peered upwards, having reached her destination thus far. The towering cathedral stood tall and mighty, highlighted in the ray of the sun’s fading light. Standing tall on her hind legs, Cynder braced her claws in the stone, pushing heavily to find purchase amongst the smooth rock. When her grip had become more or less assured, she lifted an arm, carefully forcing purchase in the building, and thus began to slowly climb. Eyes glowing a paler shade of jade, the dragoness channeled wind below her, giving herself an upward push. The cloak fluttered in the wind, crimson glowing in the fading sunlight. Grunting as she forced herself higher and higher, grasping at any and every protruding objects, Cynder climbed higher and higher. As she reached the halfway mark, the ness took a deep breath, eyes scanning the buildings around her. Despite the Cathedral being the tallest building in the sector at its spire, Cynder could not make out the shade of red that she was looking for. Cursing quietly and taking a deeper, shaky breath, she channeled the wind stronger, resuming the harrowing climb to the spire’s tip. With each foot climbed, her heart would beat faster in turn. A twinge of pain twitched within her wings, giving Cynder the harsh reminder that she was not getting down from this building in one piece if she fell. Despite her heart hammering in her chest and her tired arms and sore claws threatening to give at any moment, the dragoness made it to the top of the spire, seemingly unnoticed. “Dear ancestors why did I think of this stupid plan?” Cynder griped as she hugged the spire’s conclusion with her back, one paw resting on her heart. Closing her eyes for a moment, the dragoness took several deep breaths, before opening them and gazing out over the city. With both paws now gripping the building hard, Cynder felt a bit more content in keenly observing the city below. Despite the lessened panic in her chest, she still forced herself still for a moment, observing her surroundings. The city below was bathed in golden light, the bright stone buildings absorbing the light while the metal parts of the structures reflected the glowing beams of orange and yellow and scorching fiery red in brilliant patterns. Along the horizon, the sun had just begun to sink into the ground, it’s shimmering orange glow warming her cool scales from the harsh winds and shielding her from the touch of icy stone. Cynder closed her eyes for a moment, just enjoying the moment as much as she could, for she knew it wouldn’t last. With warmed eyelids and a warmer body, the dragoness scanned the building closely, examining every little detail, hoping to pick out a large red building amongst the sea of golds and yellows and browns. Her eyes stopped upon a building, just a few hundred yard outs, quite close to the castle. Large, colored in a brilliant crimson sheen and with an impressive towering appendage resting atop. Cynder noted with amusement that it seemed to be more for decoration than for functionality. With a twitch of her wings, Cynder looked out over the edge of the building. Now came the somewhat risky part of the plan. A crooked grin formed on her lips as the dragoness identified a large, pitch black alleyway just below. Mentally logging the Stonemason guild in the back of her mind, she jumped. Angling her body and channeling an updraft upon her, she slowed her descent as much as possible, the wind racing by her. An exhilarated rush burned through her chest, the ground approaching near. Flexing her claws, the dragoness coated her body in shadows, the inky substance clinging to her scales, yet not enveloping her due to the still present rays of the sun. A second or two later, Cynder disappeared into the shadows just above the ground, splitting her form and avoiding the fall altogether. Bringing her form back together at the opposite end of the alley, Cynder slowly walked out of the alleyway, scarlet cloak fluttering in the breeze. A dumb smile adorned her muzzle and she shook her head. “That was the single dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” She whispered to herself. “Cynder: 1, Gravity: 0” Resuming her ardent stride towards the guild, the rest of the journey was relatively uneventful. By the time the large structure was in sight, dusk had fallen, with the dragoness scolding herself about her negligent use of time thus far. Heavy, bright torches adorned the tiered building, the upper floors having an open-aired catwalk in between each side of the building. Shadow stepping upwards, the dragoness easily scaled the first three floors, arriving on the highest tier in mere moments. “Best to start upwards.” Cynder murmured to herself as she snuck inside the seldom guarded doors. “And work downwards.” From the top floor, she could make out the building itself quite easily. From the very top, the highest rooms appeared to be generally unoccupied, with nary a soul in sight except for the passing griffin, adorned in odd clothing. Watching for several moments, the dragoness formulated her plan of action. Conjuring a breeze, she filtered it into the building, blowing out the torches and letting total darkness reign. Jade eyes turning black, Cynder was granted perfect vision, slitted irises having no problem discerning objects from the surprised few griffons meandering through the pitch black darkness. She paid them no mind as they stumbled through the dark, ignoring their tentative voices. The scripts upon the labels of each room was hard to discern, the language only barring some similarities to the scripts she knew. Oddly some words were direct translations, while others were completely unknown to her. While possessing some interesting looking designs and bits of theory, the papers laid out on tables and in folders gave her no answers as to the plans she was seeking. Growling lowly in frustration, moved on. Returning to the catwalk and hopping one layer down, she resumed her search. This floor was segmented and as such required a level of caution, blowing out torches and lanterns as she went. Same with the top floor, there were only a few souls milling about. A thorough search of the floor provided nothing. Her frustration mounted. The next floor was a challenge. As soon as she stepped onto the floor, she felt a noticeable change in the air. Tensing her muscles, she snapped her head to the right, where a pair of startled eyes were locked right onto her. Cynder saw his muscles tense. Without thinking she snarled, eyes burning a flash of red. He collapsed to the ground, staring up at her in terror. With a grimace, she rushed forward, pulling the trembling body into an empty adjacent room. Growling to herself at her own reckless carelessness, the dragoness took a deep breath, and looked at the griffin, his terrified eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t kill him. It wasn’t right. It wouldn’t be pleasant but there was only one choice she had. Closing her eyes for a brief moment. When they returned, not only had her irises darkened to a bloody shade of red, but her whites had turned black. Snapping her gaze down to the petrified griffin, she stared right into his own teary irises. He almost screamed, fear consuming every aspect of his mind. Cynder quickly reared back and slammed his head with a wrist. Hard. Checking his pulse quickly, Cynder quickly departed the room. “Hopefully his mind will force him to forget what he saw. The last thing I need is another setback,” Cynder regretfully thought as she proceeded through the next room with much more caution. Finally, at the end of the chamber, a locked door sat. Blowing a stream of wind under the door, the light within vanished. Splitting into the shadows, the dragoness reformed inside the room, a little out of breath from the continued usage of heavy shadow magic. Catching her breath for a moment, she lit the torch with a quick burst of shadow fire. Quickly taking a moment to examine the room, she found a grin forming on her muzzle. This had to be it. A locked safe in the corner of the room caught her eye. Cynder took hardly a second to debate on finding the combination, knowing she was already short on time. Activating tired glands in her throat, the dragoness felt the familiar burn of acidic poison burning inside her. Releasing it with a pained hiss, the glob of acidic energy splattered over the safe, hissing as it ate away at the strong metal box. Waiting patiently a minute or so for the lock to burn through, Cynder ripped it free of its purchase as the hinges degraded. Inside the lockbox rested not only several pouches of gold coins but several stacks of paper. Ignoring the gold for the moment, she dug out the papers, laying them out along the adjacent desk. To her lucky surprise, the very first of the designs was a multistage design of the entire castle. The dragoness didn’t take the time to examine the entirety of the designs, only stopping to carefully make sure that what she was seeing had matched the outward physical appearance of that dreaded castle. Upon further examination of both the designs and the strange runes, Cynder concluded that not only was this guild responsible for the castle, but for other important projects, such as banks, cathedrals, and….what on earth was that? Cynder’s keen eye noted something much more sinister about the design of this particular sheet. They were designs for numerous things, weaponized machines, powerful weapons of war. However that was not the part that floored her, no, something else was very, very wrong here. These prototypes, despite their flaws and inadequacies, all shared one thing in common. They were powered by spirit gems. Cynder felt her blood boil in her veins. She now had an additional objective on this mission of theirs, one she would see through to the end.