> Son of a Dragon
>  by The Bricklayer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1: A New Beginning
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Spyro, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s over now.”

A world was torn asunder, and in the process, a new age was dawning. Would it be an age of fire and destruction, blood and warfare? Or would it be something new? An age of peace and tranquility, of love and friendship? Spyro did not know. Nor did Cynder. Nobody knew what was to come next. 

The current world was being shattered and ripped apart before being born anew piece by piece. The world was breaking apart with magic bursting at the seams. And all eyes now turned to one purple dragon who in all honesty deserved one very long rest. He knew he had to stop this, even with his last breath. Cynder knew she should go, run to a safe place and not have to witness this. But she was stubborn like that. They’d been in this together from the very beginning and they would be together to the very end. 

“Then I’m with you. To the end of the line. I love you… Spyro.”

And then the whole world went white.

In a realm unseen by the eyes of mortals, the Great Chronicler found himself opening a new chapter in the pages of history. He turned, seeing the newest arrival to his realm. “Be welcome friend, I’ve long been expecting you…” he said. “A new age is beginning. And I wonder, what will it be like?”

“Yes, I do wonder indeed…” the newcomer pondered. Malefor had been defeated and his taint was gone forever. But now so was the young dragon who defeated him. It grieved Ignitus to know so. The young dragon he’d helped raise was now simply ashes in the wind. He’d given his life to save this world, and rebuild it. But what a cost he’d paid in the process. But perhaps now… he finally had earned his happiness.

“With each new age,” the Great Chronicler continued. “A worthy dragon is chosen to chronicle the many triumphs and failings of that age. This has been my duty for many millennia. And now, I pass it to you.”

“But will I be ready?” Ignitus asked as he felt his body slowly beginning to change. Bright red scales turned to a nearly angelic sea blue. “And… and what of young Spyro?” he asked feeling his heart sink.

“I know you will,” the Chronicler said with a small wink. “And yes, what of Spyro indeed? And his mate? That is strange, I’ve gone through this book many times over and yet… and yet…”

“And yet what?” Ignitus asked feeling a rising hope in his chest. Steadily it grew like a flame, going from a small ember to a possible inferno. 

“What of Spyro? That is the question, isn’t it? It’s strange. You see each time a dragon dies a new page is added to this book and yet I cannot find him or his chosen anywhere…” the Chronicler noted before chuckling to himself seemingly at some private joke. His eyelids relaxed themselves and he began to glow with an ethereal white light.

Ignitus smiled and opened the next page even as the Chronicler faded away. He then barked out a laugh. So a new age had indeed begun! And what an age it would be!







A young dragon found himself opening his eyes slowly but surely, groaning from the bright light. The sun beat down on his scales, another hot day in Artisans. What a strange dream he mused to himself. Purple dragons? Him and Cynder fighting another dragon? Yeah, he really needed to lay off on the chicken before bed he mused to himself. Rising to his full height, Spyro groaned once more as he stretched his wings extending them and letting them bask in the early afternoon sun. 

“...Yeah, the Dream Weavers gave me a weird one last night…” the drake mused to himself. “Must have been their idea of getting back at me for playing that prank on Lateef really. Well, it was Cynder’s idea so if anything they should be blaming her!”

Never mind the fact that it was both of their ideas to blare rock music from a record player while Lateef was meditating. Then, of course, they ran like Hell. 

Speaking of Cynder, he wondered where she was. Training with Maximos and Magnus in Peace Keepers as she was known to do, or chatting with Elora in Avalar? 

Spyro had to fight back a chuckle even as he took to the skies, taking in the castles of Stone Hill below him. Beyond that were the winding trails leading out to the sheep fields where griffons protected their flocks with a fever. If you were to have asked him a year ago, he said he wouldn’t have had anything to do with love. But then Cynder came along, having crash-landed in Dark Hollow with a broken wing and caught Spyro’s interest at once. He wasn’t sure what it was really. Maybe it was her spitfire attitude or the fact that she was actually remarkably funny. 

In any case, Spyro found himself with a growing attraction to the dragoness and after a few clueless mis-starts and some help from Sparx and Nestor he’d won her over. Of course, it might have helped he had stayed by her side during her healing process as well. 

He’d gotten no end of it from both Hunter and his friends, all of them remarking on how the mighty Spyro had fallen and fallen hard at that. Spyro chuckled at the memories as he saw the rocks of the Peace Keepers world starting to show and grass beginning to give way to the desert.

Out here, you had to be a much tougher breed of dragon to survive with all the tar pits and dangerous predators. Ironically, this dangerous wasteland was also the first line of defense against invaders from other countries. Of course, given the fact that you had to contend with not just dragons might have had something to do with it…

In any case, Spyro found himself gliding down to the dry maze of desert canyons below him. Careful not to land in any of the tar pits, he heard the very distinctive sounds of swords ringing out from somewhere nearby. He smiled to himself. Cynder, of course. He found himself following the sounds and entered a small makeshift arena set up by the locals where Cynder with a blade in her mouth was currently dueling another dragon, a deep blue in color. Spyro remembered his occupation if not the name, the dude worked as a barista in Artisans. Seems he was branching out.

Maximos was presiding over the duel and clapping when Cynder pulled off a particularly impressive sword move. Her fellow swordsman clapped as well accepting his defeat gracefully doing a small bow with Cynder following. 

“Good one!” Gavin exclaimed. “You’re going to have to teach me that move, the Hydra Decapitation Strike you called it…?” he asked looking towards Maximos who nodded in turn.

“Well, I pity the hydras!” Maximos said with a deep belly laugh, the yellowish dragon clutching his sides as he struggled not to fall over from laughter. Spyro’s eyes meanwhile were squarely on Cynder and he found himself watching as she wiped the beads of sweat off her face with a wet towel before going through several more maneuvers with her sword. The violet dragoness was all but dancing as she gracefully sliced through the air and with one clean strike took the head off a Gnorc dummy. And Spyro was transfixed all the while.

There were a few sniggers in the background, Maximos and Gavin laughing as they watched the completely lovestruck dragon eye his mate. 

“Oh, how our young Spyro has grown up…” Gavin whispered to his fellow dragon with a conspiratorial grin. “Three gems says she notices him within about… oh, I give it five seconds?”

“Oh, that’s a sucker’s bet!” Maximos whispered back as he polished his warhammer. “You couldn’t even get me to take that. ...Okay, five gems and a free pot of coffee at the Green Scale and you’re on.”

“You’re so going to lose…” Gavin said. And sure enough, the barista was right on the money… er, or gems as it were. Cynder smirked as she turned back to look at her mate.

“Taking a peek?” she asked as she let her tail curl along Spyro’s jawline making him blush and shudder a bit at her touch. “See something you like, artisan boy?” 

Behind him, Gavin and Maximos were now cracking up like a pair of idiots. Spyro shook his head fondly. He loved his adoptive clan, he really did but they could be such a bunch of idiots at times. 

“...Such a bunch of alpha males…” Cynder noted as she watched Maximos pass a few gems towards his friend. Her dragonfly partner Flare floated and fluttered around her head giggling. “I can see where you got it from…” she remarked.

“Yeah, but you gotta love the-Hey!” Spyro shouted as he suddenly realized what Cynder had said to him. By now, Maximos and Gavin had barreled over laughing and were now sobbing tears of amusement from the scene unfolding before them. 

“Yep, still got it,” Cynder smiled before giving her mate a small nibble. “So, want to go a few rounds with me?” she asked.

“S-Sure!” Spyro stammered out in reply not sure which type of round Cynder was implying. He hoped it was the one he thought it was. He doubted that was the case but a drake could hope right?

Before Cynder could answer, a sharp scream of fear cut through the air. Both Cynder and Spyro shared a look before nodding. “Come on Cyn, we have some things to do!” Spyro shouted before breaking into a run as flames snorted from his nostrils in fury. He knew the cause of the scream.

Gnorcs. Even after their king Gnasty’s defeat, they were still a recurring problem throughout the realms. Most hid away in caverns taking whatever treasure they could find but on very rare days some got… bolder. Some actually went out and attacked dragon families as revenge against Spyro for defeating their king. Most of the time Spyro mused -as he took to the skies with Cynder right on his trail- he was able to swiftly put down any Gnorc uprisings and send them crying for their mommies. But on some occasions, there were those days when he wasn’t quite so lucky.

He sincerely hoped today wasn’t going to be one of those days.







Fear. That was the first and probably most crucial thing that was going through the young drake’s mind as he ran, gnorcs in pursuit. Blood covered his left side. The gnorcs shouting and screaming came from behind, vultures nipping at the child’s legs. He turned and let out a small blast of green flame rendering one of the unfortunate birds to a charbroiled crisp but then in his haste failed to notice the small rock coming up fast. He let out a shout as he tripped and landed flat on his face, a pool of bubbling tar laying dangerously close.

And the gnorcs knew this. Closing in, they brandished their swords. Spike braced for death.

Then they heard it. A loud roar that shook the canyon walls and saw a purple and gold blur darting towards them. The gnorcs’ eyes widened in fear in almost comical fashion. They knew who was coming.

One was soundly slammed to the ground by Spyro, who chose to land on top of him. He opened his jaws wide his neck glowing with an ominous orange hue and the gnorc knew no more. 

Two other gnorcs snarled in rage upon seeing their fallen comrade and rushed towards the young drakeling that was their quarry. A violet blur was seen from above if only for a brief moment and two small crystals came flying down. They exploded on contact sending the gnorcs flying backward. Then, Spike saw her. A majestic violet dragoness growling at the gnorcs wings flared in a protective fury. A sword rested on her left foreleg ready to be drawn.

“You shall not touch him!” Cynder shouted before taking a deep breath and unleashing a powerful blast of wind blowing the gnorcs skywards.

“Shield your eyes kid!” Spyro shouted knowing exactly what was to come next. Spike was all too happy to do so. And so he obeyed, not wanting to bear witness to what was to come next. Cynder rocketed upwards blade drawn and in a flash of light struck down the twin gnorcs. 

Green gnorc blood splattered the ground.

Another gnorc came dressed in red garb, obviously the commander of this little regiment/hunting party. 

“Ask yourself,” Spyro said in a low dangerous tone as he strode forwards snorting fire from his nostrils in a fury. “Do you really want to mess with me?”

Kids were high on his list and so to harm them, especially a dragon kid was a very swift death sentence. The gnorcs knew this as well, or at least the commander as the next -and probably brightest- thing he did was run for it disappearing into the canyons. 

“Should we go after him?” Cynder asked. “I’d love to hunt him down. Attacking a kid!” she snarled striking at a boulder in anger. She in her outrage created a deep enough slash for it to be visible, gouged into the rock. 

“No, I think we have bigger problems,” Spyro replied wrapping a wing around his mate in an attempt to soothe her. Tiamat knew she’d probably need it if Spyro’s suspicions were correct. A deep sinking feeling was beginning to fill him. He hoped he was wrong about what had just happened. “...Where’s your parents kid?”

“T-That way…” Spike whispered sounding as if he was close to tears pointing to another part of the canyon. Spyro swallowed nervously gesturing for him to stay before he nervously went off in the direction he had been pointed towards.

He definitely hoped he was wrong about what had just happened by now.

His eyes widened in horror and behind him Cynder stifled a sharp gasp as they saw twin dragons laying on the canyon floor, bleeding heavily. Spyro ran up to the larger of the two. The mother. The one still living. Nearby, Cynder was gently shutting the male’s eyes and whispering a prayer in the ancient draconic language.

“What’s his name?” Spyro asked gently knowing this one didn’t have much time left. “Please… Please just tell me. I’ll… I’ll take care of him. Do you right, raise him as you would have wanted!” he said sounding close to tears.

“T-Thank you… Spyro,” the dragoness shuddered out in gasping breaths grasping Spyro’s hand with her own. “Spike… his name is Spike…” she said in a voice almost too soft to hear.

“What? What’s his name?”

“Spike…” the dragoness breathed out before her hand fell limp. Spyro’s wings drooped and he raised his head to the sky before letting out a deluge of flame.

Then he heard it, and let out a murmur of: “Oh no… Kid…” as he saw the young drake running up to his mother and began sobbing into her chest begging for her to wake. But she never would.

Cynder feeling an unknown instinct take over pulled Spike into a hug and began to rock him back and forth saying: “Shh… shh…” as she draped her wings around him. “It’ll be okay… it’ll be okay…”

But deep down she knew it probably never would be. She turned towards Spyro seemingly asking what she should do. No, what they should do.

Spyro knew there was only one answer.







In the Dream Weavers world, a dragon met up with a Princess. Lateef knew her. She was a dear friend of his. Luna, they called her. She helped to rule over a land far from here, the one that the young Spike and his parents had come from.

“...I see…” Luna said sadly shaking her head. “I shall see that they get proper burials and honors. And of young Spike?”

“Spyro and Cynder plan to take him in,” Lateef said his star speckled wings drooping in sadness. “...To lose one’s parents at so young an age…”

“Yes, quite,” Luna replied narrowing her eyes. For a brief moment, Lateef was reminded he was not just dealing with an ordinary pony but the ruler of the dream world herself. “I shall see that the last of that hunting party is found and I will… deal with him.”

Lateef could only shudder to imagine what his oldest friend would do with the gnorc. He almost pitied him. Almost. To leave a child without parents was probably the greatest crime one could commit.

“...I remember Nestor finding young Spyro,” Lateef said. “The poor thing was crying when he was found. No parents to be seen anywhere. He might have been abandoned. I suspect Spyro to this day still has the memories although he does not speak of them. I know that is why he is the perfect choice to take in Spike. Both without parents, both dragons so I know they can strike up a bond.”

“Yes…” Luna agreed. “Lateef, if I may have the pleasure of…?”

“Visiting young Spike’s dreams tonight? I would be honored to allow you to join me tonight. Tiamat knows the poor kid’s going to need something tonight,” Lateef said sadly before he snarled. “Attacking dragon kids, it’s almost unheard of! Not since the days of the Sorceress were creatures ever this bold!” 

“I can only hope Spyro and Cynder are ready to face the great challenges that lie ahead. Taking care of a kid in itself is no easy matter, but an orphaned one?” Luna trailed off.

“I know they’ll rise up to the challenge,” Lateef reassured before his facial features hardened once more. “They’ll have to. They’ll have to…”

“Best of luck to you young Spyro…” he thought to himself. “Best of luck to you both.”
> 2: Doubts
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Artisans

Spyro as much as he hated to admit it, was quickly starting to regret his decision to adopt Spike. Already, he had his doubts about keeping his promise to Spike’s mother. For one thing, he didn’t know the first thing about being a parent. Sure, he’d had figures to guide him and raise him -Like Nestor, Tiamat bless him!- but there was a marked difference from being the child in question to becoming a father yourself.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to just dump Spike anywhere and forget about him, that much he was certain. His dragon’s honor would not allow him to do so. He’d kill himself before he even considered that possibility. But the thing was, he simply did not know what to do about raising Spike and truth be told he wasn’t sure Cynder knew anything about it either.

He recalled his conversation with his mate a few hours prior.

“Well, I finally managed to get him to sleep,” Cynder sighed to herself shaking her head slightly. Spyro peaked into the next room, a ray of moonlight illuminating Spike’s sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, curled up in his basket. Spyro could only guess at what kinds of dreams the Weavers had given him. He hoped they were good ones. “...For what it’s worth anyways. He wouldn’t leave my side for a good hour and a half before exhaustion finally caught up with him.” she whispered sadly and if Spyro didn’t know any better he could have sworn a small tear dropped to the floor from her eyes.

“...Can’t say I blame him really…” Spyro muttered as he slowly stepped into Spike’s bedroom -in reality, an old hastily converted library wing- and drew the covers up over his son. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cynder hissed slightly snappishly. Spyro couldn’t blame her, even if he did flinch slightly from her tone. She’d had a long and rather tiring day. He was amazed she was still standing really.

“Well, you do look slightly like his birth mother, slightly,” Spyro added. “Maybe he’s holding onto you for comfort, still struggling with the reality that his mother is… gone.”

“...Yeah, when you put it that way…” Cynder muttered to herself sadly before laughing bitterly. “Goddess above, I hope he doesn’t grow up with an Oedipus complex!” 

Spyro had to fight back a bitter chuckle of his own, he could definitely see that happening sad as it was.

“Tiamat, we’re so not cut out for this are we?” Cynder muttered to herself as they left their son’s quarters. Son, Cynder mused to herself. She was already calling the kid her son. Basic maternal instincts perhaps? “Like, we are really not cut out for any of this…”

“Surely between the two of us we must know something right?” Spyro had to ask. “I mean, how possible is it either of us know absolutely nothing about being a parent? Not that likely I’d say…”

“Probably know about as much as you really. I mean, for years I thought I was a dragonfly! It was only when I started belching fire and getting a craving for meat did I figure out what I really was…” Cynder noted in reply. Spyro had heard the story before, he still had yet to figure out how for years someone neglected to notice they were a giant fire breathing lizard. “...However, I still remember my parents' words to me. They said: “You are our real daughter. It's just that you came from somewhere else.” Still keep those words close to my heart, every day.” she said with a soft smile.

“See, how can you say you’re not cut out to be a mother when you put it like that?” Spyro asked idly nibbling on a gem. “Sounds like you know a little at the very least…”

“Yeah, I suppose…” Cynder said licking him. “It’s just I’m still new to this, that’s all. There’s not a manual or anything to parenthood. I… I just want to follow the same promise you did, raise the kid right and all…” she whispered sounding actually rather terrified for one of the few times in her life. Sounding terrified for one of the few times Spyro had known her. Draping a wing around her in comfort, he cuddled close to his mate.

“I… I suppose we’ll just have to figure this one out together, right Cyn?” Spyro asked and Cynder nodded tucking her head under his. “...Um. Cyn?”

Her only response was the sound of loud snoring. Spyro smiled to himself before falling asleep soon after letting the Weavers take him. His dreams that night were strange ones indeed. He heard it, dark laughter coming from somewhere around him and Spyro found himself surrounded by flame. He’d had this dream a few times before but thought nothing of it. He always thought it things relating to eating an oddly cooked piece of mutton or something like that. 

This time the dream was more intense than before. A massive dragon, almost dark violet in color with eyes black as coal stepped out of the shadows. Smoke poured from his nostrils in thick gulping black clouds. The smoke swirled and surrounded Spyro as two massive wings unfurled themselves.

“Look at you,” the dragon said to him as Spyro began unfurling his own wings and snorting out a few blasts of flame for good measure. “You’re an incredible one kid, you know that right?”

The tone sounded almost respectful. Almost. The dragon continued. “Well, so you’re a parent now huh Spyro? Can’t say I’m surprised. You always had a good heart. I’d say too good, but them’s the breaks as they say eh?” the dragon laughed. A deep echoing laugh, one that sent chills running down Spyro’s spine.

“W-Who are you?” Spyro stammered out. “I’m not afraid of you!” 

“Oh, young dragon. How naive you are. You will be… You will be…” the massive dragon said with a hint of a smile before vanishing back into the shadows from whence he came…

Spyro awoke with a start finding himself panting and sweating. He quickly extended his wings, looking back to see Cynder still fast asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief. Good, she was still there. Taking to the skies and rushing out the window he let the early morning light beat down on his wings and soaked in the sun.

He knew who he needed to see, Nestor. Surely he had some advice -however small- on how to deal with the trials and tribulations of parenthood. The burgeoning young father definitely needed it. Spyro sighed to himself. Goddess, he was so in over his head. 

He looked back to his house and shuddered fearfully before brushing those thoughts away. It was just a dream, nothing more. Things must have come to a pretty pass if he was even taking that dream seriously. He’d had several others like it before, as I mentioned, and he’d never taken them seriously. So why did this particular one rattle him so? What was different about it? These were several of the thoughts running through the young dragon’s mind. He shook the thoughts aside and groaned to himself. He didn’t need to think this heavily this early in the morning. At least not till he had his cup of coffee from Gavin.

Throwing himself into a spin to let off some steam, Spyro then went into a dive and tucked his wings grabbing a sheep in his mouth before the shepherd could even take notice. Letting the warm taste of blood fill his mouth he quickly landed atop a nearby battlement to eat his breakfast.

The griffons and dragons you see, they had come to an understanding. The dragons gave several of their gems to the griffons for their own hoards, and the griffons allowed them to eat some of their sheep in return. All in all, nobody lost much and nobody ever went to war with each other. Hell, a few of the dragons were actually friends with the griffons and vice versa. Spyro had even caught Argus -the dragon who always had a watermelon in hand- stealing kisses from a griffon hen. Spyro never caught her name. Started with a G, he knew that much.

And pretty much all of the griffons' names started with a G save for a few rare exceptions so that really didn’t narrow it down by much. 

Really, there wasn’t much animosity with the two kingdoms and the two staunchly backed themselves whenever one needed the other’s help. When Ripto came one year with his great war machines and powerful sorcery, the griffons were the first to lend their aid to the dragons. Ripto had never suffered a quicker defeat, the history books calling this the One Day War. 

Spyro chuckled at the memories, remembering seeing Ripto’s terrified face when a griffon came right at him, battle claws at the ready and sharpened like the finest blades. That was when he waved the white flag, with the mighty queen on top of him ready to rip him open. Even Cynder had been impressed by Gilda’s abilities. What was the saying? God save us from the Queen? ...Yeah, that totally fit Spyro mused to himself with another chuckle. 

Spyro found himself in Dark Hollow, the rather dreamy realm always a soft comfort for dragons who needed their peace and quiet. It was a small wonder Gavin had set up his tavern -The Green Dragon, he called it- here for the more knowledgeable types to converse and theorize over a cup of coffee. 

Finding Nestor overseeing the assembly and reconstruction of a castle tower -such structures were popular amongst dragons, always made them feel rather regal- he walked up next to his father in all but blood. Plopping himself down into the grass he felt the coolness beneath his claws. Soon, Nestor took notice of his fellow dragon and motioned for another to take over.

“Spyro, so glad you could join us!” Nestor said adjusting his belt. A hammer hung from it, perfect for either driving in nails or bashing in skulls. “Like my handiwork?” he asked and gestured proudly to some stones that sooner or later would make up the brickwork of the new tower.

“Excellent as always, dad! Say, you got a minute?” Spyro asked unsure on how to go about this. The last time he was this nervous about something it was simply how to ask Cynder out on a date! “...I… I sorta need your help with something…” he stammered out. 

Now Nestor was intrigued and he raised an eyebrow. Now, of course with most of the dragons being dudes -at least in the Artisans realm- Nestor came to the most natural conclusion. To him, Spyro being somewhat nervous about something meant only one thing. “Spyro, if you… ah, can’t get it up I wouldn’t be the first person to ask. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about for certain but I would go… uh, ask the Magic Crafters about potions and such…”

“It’s not that!” Spyro exclaimed making several of the other dragons look at the pair. Lowering his voice Spyro then replied: “Torch and Tiamat above, what made you go ahead and think that was the issue?” he said with a small blush.

“Apologies, my son…” Nestor blushed before continuing. “So, you only come to me when it’s something important. I can only presume that something important can either be one of two things. One, there’s trouble at home. Happy wife means a happy life I always say, so whatever it is, just apologize profusely and just agree with her. Or two, and I think this is more likely you’re having… doubts are you not?”

“D-Doubts?” Spyro stammered out in surprise. He really shouldn’t have been as his father figure always managed to get to the root of the problem quite quickly he’d found. “Doubts about what?”

“I heard what happened from Maximos. Firstly, let me say I’ve never been more proud of you until today. What you did was above and beyond the call of duty for a normal dragon,” Nestor said with an approving and quite proud smile. “Secondly, it’s normal to feel these worries. Goddess knew I did when I found you. Did I ever tell you that story?”

“You said you just found me as an egg. That’s all.” Spyro replied.

“Yes, but it was a bit more complicated than that…” Nestor began.







Seventeen years ago, Nestor had been a dragon around Spyro’s age. He was only just beginning to learn his craft and figure out his place in life. His father had been a smelter in Peace Keepers, crafting weapons. Nestor wanted to work with his hands as well, but in an entirely different manner. So he had taken up an apprenticeship with a dragon named Nexus. 

His father had been surprised at first, why wouldn’t he have been? The family had always been smelters and weapon crafters. But that didn’t mean he disapproved of his son’s choice in life. He always said Nestor had to chart his own course, go with his own flow in life. Nestor’s father had married a siren for his second wife, so that might have had something to do with his sea metaphors. His first had passed away during childbirth leaving him a single father. 

Nestor had always just helped his father where he could and even now was trying to earn his mastership so he could build his stepmother a proper home for herself. She deserved only the best, after all, that Aria Blaze.

In any case, Nestor found himself walking along a river bed one afternoon, during his lunch break. Taking a bite out of his roasted chicken leg his eyes widened when he saw a purple spotted egg floating gently along the creek. It had been partially cracked open, and inside was a young purple dragon crying for anyone who would listen.

Nestor naturally saw red. Who could abandon their kid like this? Scooping the egg up into his arms he helped the young one out of it, and cleaned off the amniotic fluids with a soft towel. Rocking the dragon in his arms he began softly singing a tune his stepmother had taught him and little by little the young one’s eyes began to slowly shutter themselves shut. Soon he was lost in a peaceful dream.

Soon he returned to his workshop not even realizing the drakeling was still in his arms. Not until Gavin pointed it out with a rather blunt comment of: “Dude, you do realize you’re holding a kid don’t you?”

“So I am,” Nestor replied. “What of it?”

“He’s probably imprinted on you already,” Argus said munching on his seemingly ever-present watermelon. “You do realize what this means right?” he asked.

It took several minutes for this to register in Nestor’s mind, but when it finally clicked his eyes widened in almost comical fashion and he let out a low mutter of: “Oh my God.”

“Congrats!” Argus bellowed slapping his friend on the back. “You’re now a daddy!”

“...But… But I’m not cut out to be a dad! I’ve never even raised a child in my life!” Nestor babbled. “I… I mean, I don’t even have siblings so I couldn’t have even learned how to take care of clutchmates!”

“Reeeeeeeeeellllllllllaxxxxxxx,” Gavin said walking over to his friend and holding out a brown paper bag. “Here, deep breaths. Take several of them. Blow into it. Relax. Just relax…”

“How can I relax when I…” Nestor began to shout before realizing his current situation and lowering his voice. Thankfully his new charge was still fast asleep. “How can I relax when I’ve never even been near a kid?”

“Deep breaths man,” Gavin said again and this time Nestor took several into the bag. “There, you good man?”

Nestor responded with a weak little nod.

“Okay, good. Just sayin’ man, you seem to be doing just fine. I mean, you’ve already got him curled up in your arms so you must be doing something right. I mean, kids that age? They’re noisy little things!” Gavin said. “And besides, you’ve got us right?” he asked wrapping an arm around his friend and then gesturing to the dragons. Maximos and Argus nodded in turn.

“Ho hey!” Maximos shouted. “We’ll all pitch in! You just teach him the important stuff, like how to fend for himself and eat and such. We’ll help teach him everything else. Like chasing down sheep, kicking Gnorc ass, bashing in skulls, and never having to brush his teeth before bedtime!”

Nestor glared at him sharply for that. “...Okay, maybe not that last one,” Maximos agreed quickly backtracking. “But you see it for yourself! Look at you, you’re already playing protective dragon daddy!”

“He’s got a point,” Gavin agreed with a small nod before poking him in the chest. “You’ve got the makings of a parent right there. You just don’t know it yet. Don’t worry man, we’re here to help you in any and every way we can!”

“With you to the end of the line, as we’ve always been,” Argus agreed. “We’re buddies formed in spit swears and fire belches. No way we’re going to just drop those sacred promises now just because you found yourself a kid!”

Nestor felt a strange warmth go through him and he breathed a sigh of relief. His friends, they always had been there for him and they always would be. And then he felt that strange warmth go through him again. He knew what it was now, love. Love for his son.

“Speaking of the young whelp,” Argus commented. “You picked out a name for him yet?”

“You doofus,” Gavin said smacking him over the back of the head. “They’ve just met, how could Nestor have picked out a name for him yet?”

Nestor quickly found a word coming to him. He ran it over the tip of his tongue, tasting it and seeing how it felt. And he found he liked the word. “Spyro,” he said finally. “I’ll call him Spyro. That’ll be his name.”

“Yeah, Spyro! That sounds like a fine name!” Gavin agreed with the other two following. “Guess this means you’re going to have to start working overtime to get enough gems to provide for your young one eh?”

Nestor didn’t care. Not that much really. He could have been hit with all the work in the world and he wouldn’t have cared. Looking down on his son, he smiled. “Hello, Spyro…”

Back in the present, Spyro was watching his father with a gaping jaw. He hadn’t realized.

“Yeah, I was going through these… well, I wouldn’t call them exactly the same as your Spike’s situation is different but I was going through similar concerns. Doubts, would I be able to do it? Would I be able to provide for you? Would I be able to raise you right?” Nestor explained with a small laugh. “Like father like son I guess. Point is, this isn’t something that you’re born with an instinctive knowledge of nor is it something you can be taught. It’s something you learn along the way, with all the trials and tribulations that implies. I know you’ll be a fine father Spyro. After all, you got it from me.” Nestor said with a small wink. 

“Yeah… Yeah, guess I’ll just have to do my best and hope for the best,” Spyro nodded. “Thanks a lot dad. Like, really. Thank you!”

“Always son, always,” Nestor said giving him a small noogie making Spyro give out little cries of half-hearted protest. “And if you ever need help…”

“I know who to call,” Spyro said already in the air and heading back towards home where his son was waiting. His son! Those words felt so right, Spyro mused to himself. “Thank you.”

Feeling like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders Spyro did a loop-de-loop in the air in joy. He was a father now. He was a father! He hadn’t asked for it but he found it wasn't really that much of a bad feeling all things considered. Was he ready? He didn’t know. But he did know that his father and his friends and his mate would be there by his side to support him as needed.

He wondered now if Cynder knew this as well, and decided it was time to find out. Tucking in his wings he flew in to his home’s main room. Once there, he found both Sheila the Kangaroo and one Sgt. James Byrd at his house already. Byrd was giving Cynder a rather hastily gift-wrapped toy tank while Sheila was handing Cynder several books on childcare and on animals. Spyro smiled. Seems the news had already made its way to his friends. Gossip and news did seem to find its way to travel fast in the realms after all as gossip and news always did. Especially when that news revolved around Spyro. Not that Spyro really minded in this particular instance. He, of course, was grateful for his friends pitching in.

Sheila and Byrd gave Spyro small waves before taking their leave. Cynder smiled at her mate.

“Found what you needed?” she asked and Spyro gaped at her. “Oh come now, don’t play dumb with me you dingus. I sorta figured when I didn’t find you in bed this morning something was wrong. Nestor, right?”

“Yeah,” Spyro said. “Just had to get some… advice. You know how it is really.”

“Yeah, I do,” Cynder smiled. “Just don’t drop everything at a moment’s notice without telling me first okay?”

Spyro hung his head. Yeah, some would say he was totally whipped but with a mate like Cynder, it was impossible not to be. Again, Spyro really didn’t mind. She was the yin to his yang so to speak. “Well, I’m still going to help you ya big lug. Well, not like I really have much of a choice in the matter, seeing as how we're stuck together,” Cynder continued with a small teasing smile that also held a hint of flirtatiousness. Even years on, Spyro mused, she really hadn’t changed much. “So, do you want to introduce yourself to Spike or should I do the introductions? That reunion of friends was really touching and all, but I think Spike needs to meet -and I mean truly meet- his new parents.”

“Already calling yourself his mom, are you?” Spyro teased back as they walked to Spike’s room. “You’re quite sure of yourself. That this will work out and all.”

“Course I am. When am I ever not sure of myself? ‘Sides, if you believe this will work then so must I. With you to the end of the line and all that right?”

Spyro laughed. “Haha, yeah. I’m surprised Hunter and Elora didn’t show. You’d think that they…”

“Elora sent a note via dragonfly. Apparently, Hunter broke something of that Professor’s… again. They’ll be caught up with fixing things for a while,” Cynder explained. “Your friend’s such a dumbass…” she commented though with a good-natured grin. 

She liked the cheetah, she really did. Cynder could honestly see why he was Spyro’s best friend, even if he wasn’t the brightest sort. Outgoing and adventurous just like Spyro himself. Two peas in a pod really. Sometimes she liked to joke that if she hadn’t come along the two would have married each other instead!

Cynder sucked in a breath as they neared the door. She looked towards Spyro. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. What about you?” Spyro asked with his trademark wily grin.

“Course I’m ready, looks like we've got some things to do eh?” Cynder said with a small smirk. They had a whole new life in front of them and all they had to take that first step into that little room in front of them. One foot in front of the other, that was all it took really. Both Cynder and Spyro shared a brief little nod before gently pushing the door open...
> 3: Early Days
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cynder sighed as she rested her head on a bed of woven grass, placing it atop a pillow. The bed -or to be honest a mat really- itself had been a gift from Elora, having woven it herself as a wedding gift to Spyro and Cynder. Her only warning was not to ruin it. Spyro, of course, had been somewhat clueless as to what she could have possibly meant before it finally clicked in his head with a massive blush. Cynder being the less dense of the two had figured it out immediately and had burst out laughing making a remark of “No promises!” accompanied by a little wagging of her claw. Classic Cynder mischievousness. 

Perhaps needless to say Elora was caught between blushing red and fuming knowing it would have to be replaced within a week. She was wrong, and Spyro and Cynder had never did ‘that’ at least on that bed to respect her wishes. After all, an angry Elora was a very scary Elora indeed.

But that was then and this was now. Cynder groaned into her pillow in frustration. In hindsight, she supposed she shouldn’t have been so surprised really. Spike was probably a mess of issues, and as much as she wanted to him to love him, and call her mom within a week she knew it wasn’t happening. She knew she was a shortsighted fool, with plenty of wishful thinking to boot. 

But she mused to herself, she honestly couldn’t be blamed. She wanted, like wanted more than anything else in the world to have a child to love and to cuddle and to call her own. This would just take time, that was all. Yeah, it was just going to take a bit longer before Spike accepted her. 

She picked herself up off the bed and walked towards Spike’s room. Moaning about it would do nothing Cynder knew. If she ever wanted Spike to accept her as his new mother she would actually have to put in the effort.

She found Spike absentmindedly playing with a toy raptor -Hunter’s gift of course- and sat herself down beside him draping a wing around the young drake. He was cute, with his purple scales, pudgy body and small green spines. About everything Cynder could have wanted really. “You… you okay kid?” she asked slowly. No need to rush this she reasoned. He would have to take this at his own pace. 

“...Yeah… Um, I suppose…” Spike said softly not really sure what to think. On the one hand, here Cynder and her mate were taking the time out of their lives to care for him as if he was their own son. But on the other hand, they just weren’t… them. They weren’t his birth parents. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful or anything but he really wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. Cynder was nice enough he supposed but she just wasn’t… her. “I’m… I’m sorry, I just don’t really know what to say to you.”

Cynder’s heart nearly melted. Torch above! Was she supposed to feel this way? Was she supposed to just feel this… well, sappy? She was supposed to be a tough dragoness, a Peacekeeper for crying out loud. And yet here she was wanting to hug this kid. Then again, she supposed it was going to happen eventually, her start to go soft. Goddess knew somehow Spyro of all drakes had melted her heart. 

“It’s okay Spike, you can go ahead. Take your time,” Cynder said her wings drooping slightly. “I’m not going to rush you. N-Not that I had any intention of rushing you in the first place.” she stammered out realizing how that must have sounded. Goddess above, she must have sounded like such a fool!

At first, Spike said nothing, choosing to take his time and squirm rather uncomfortably under his newfound adoptive mother’s gaze. Picking his words carefully, he finally spoke.

“Well…” he said at last. “It's just that… I’m grateful for this. All of this, really, I am, but…”

“Yeah, I gotcha. Just know I’m going to be here if you ever need me, okay kiddo?” Cynder asked. “This is your home now. Anything you need, me and Spyro will be here for you.”

Spike nodded slowly. He began feeling a sort of… warmth (was it?) spreading throughout his body. He honestly didn’t know what to describe it as. He sighed to himself. It was hard trying to turn what he was feeling in his head into words in his mouth sometimes he’d found. And he knew very well what he was feeling in his heart right now, he just didn’t want to accept it so readily after their deaths. 

“Is… Is that a sword Miss Cynder?” Spike asked curiously seeing the blade sheathed away in its holster.

Cynder suppressed a sigh. She shouldn’t have been so surprised, but it was still frustrating to her. Miss Cynder he'd said. Not ‘Mother’, not ‘Mom’, or even ‘Mommy’, just Miss Cynder. So cold and clinical really. She’d expected this, she had just adopted Spike after only a week after he’d seen his parents die before his very eyes. It would be a long while probably before she was called something much more familiar or seen as such in his eyes. But still, it gnawed at her all the same. What would it take for him to see her as a mother, and not just Miss Cynder? Was she being selfish, she asked herself. Probably, she reasoned. 

“Yes, it’s a sword. Forged by the finest smithers this side of Avalar!” Cynder cried sounding quite proud of herself. “It’s felled many a gnorc in it’s day! Between you and me… I call it… Will you promise not to tell?”

“I promise,” Spike said with a small little nod not really sure what to think about any of this and how his adoptive parent was acting. Cynder leaned in closer and then whispered the name.

“I call it… Lightbringer.” Cynder whispered as Spike blinked.

“...Um, is that supposed to mean something?” he asked. “Why are you saying it in this uberly dramatic whisper voice? Are you expecting me to be blown away by awesomeness or have a dramatic thunderclap at the mentioning of its name?” Spike said almost in complete deadpan. Cynder gave him a flat stare. Well, at least it was something she supposed.

“...Maybe a little,” Cynder admitted with a small sigh before in spite of herself she kissed Spike atop the forehead. Her voice softened.  “...You know, I was adopted as well. Same with Spyro. So, I guess in a way we do know a little about what you’re going through if not completely.”

“Did… did you lose your parents too? Are they…?” Spike asked carefully sidestepping around the word ‘dead’.

“Hell if I know. They could be gulping down rubies in some cave somewhere for all I know,” Cynder said. “On one hand I’d really like to know what happened to them, but on the other, I suspect that’s one door I’m not so ready to open. I’m content in any case. No, I never knew my parents. I was adopted as an infant by a family of dragonflies if you could believe it. Spent years thinking I was one of them till I started belching fire.”

“...How… how do you miss the fact that you’re a fire snorting lizard with wings and claws?” Spike asked blinking slightly in confusion and Cynder had to suppress a snort. That was exactly the same question Spyro himself had asked almost to the letter. “...Actually, how did you take it when you found out?”

“Oh, the usual any adopted child probably would have in my situation. Stomped, screamed and yelled at my parents for how they lied to me amongst other things. ...Yeah,” she said sucking in a breath. “Not one of my finest moments to tell you the truth. But you know what they said to me when all was said and done? I remember it to this day, even years after. They said to me: “You are our real daughter. It's just that you came from somewhere else.” Cynder said fighting back a small sniffle.

“...Oh, I see,” Spike said. “Is… Is that what you think of me? Because… well, to be honest, I don’t know what to think of you right now.”

“It’s okay kid,” Cynder smiled. “You just take your time. I wasn’t expecting you to warm up to me in an instance. Hell, I’m surprised you’ve taken to me this much as it is.” the dragoness continued. “...Anyways, I’ve got to go get a few things done. The Year of the Dragon Festival is fast approaching and that means I’ve got to be on guard for gnorcs and the like trying to snatch up eggs. Everyone in Peacekeepers is on high alert really. After the Sorceress, we do not want to drop our guard and be surprised ever again. Like I said, if you ever need anything, anything at all…”

“Just come to you,” Spike said with another nod. “I’ll do that. Where can I find you?”

“Festival grounds, near the stall that’s selling the flugelhorns. ...Really need to thank Princess Cadence for importing some of those out here by the way…” she muttered to herself as she walked off.

As soon as she was out of supposed earshot, she was joined by Spyro who draped an orange wing around his mate. “...I heard everything. You okay?” the purple dragon asked.

“Y...Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’s… It’s just, I want him to be my son. Our son. After…”

“Yeah, I understand. Shh…” Spyro whispered nuzzling her feeling Cynder start to shake. “It’s okay, let it out…”

Then Cynder finally broke down whispering how she was seemingly cursed to never be a mother. Spyro knew where this had started. One year ago, Cynder had wanted a child and Spyro however reluctantly had agreed to it if just to make his mate the happiest dragoness on the planet. Sadly, there was a problem. As it turned out, it was physically impossible for the dragoness to bear a child. Some unknown trauma had rendered her completely infertile. 

As Spyro held his mate, Spike had peeked in on a bout of curiosity and covered his mouth with a claw to hide his sharp gasp. Cynder… Cynder could never be a mother? Torch above, he felt like such a jerk. Here he was trying to figure out where Cynder stood in his life and if she could ever take the place of his real mother while Cynder herself desperately wanted a child to call her own. Clearly, Spike reasoned, this would require some thinking he mused to himself. A hell of a lot of thinking. 

Neither of the two had noticed they’d been overheard. Spyro, after his mate had finally calmed down, explained his current situation. “...I went to the Dream Weavers earlier via a portal. To ask them about… you know. They said they didn’t give me that dream of… whoever or whatever that was.”

“I thought you blamed that on just a bit of bad mutton,” Cynder said blinking slightly in confusion. Spyro had told her about this recurring dream of his, and for the most part, they’d paid it no mind. It was, after all, just a dream in the end. Clearly, Spyro was beginning to think otherwise if he’d gone directly to the Dream Weavers. “...Isn’t that what you said?”

“To be honest? I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Spyro said. “Look, I know it sounds stupid but that thing in my dreams? It seems to know me almost personally, and the dream itself feels so damn real… Like, the most real dream in the world you could ever think of.”

“Yeah, had a few that seemed pretty real myself. There was this one the other night that… well, I suppose I’ll leave that one up to your imagination, no?” Cynder said with a small wink. “But if you’re really that concerned, next time you have this dream or if you even have it again at all commit it to memory okay?”

“Oh trust me, it’s the type of thing that’s sorta hard to forget…”







Later that afternoon, Cynder took Spike for a trip around the festival to show him what kind of world he’d now entered. Bright, happy bagpipe and flute themed music mixed in with bongos played in the background as kites themed after various types of dragons were flown overhead. Spike was quite honestly, in heaven. He was excited and wanted to explore every which way. It was all Cynder could do to keep him from running off. Spike heard a chuckle from somewhere nearby.

“Gnarly, ain’t it?” Flame -a bright red dragon with a striking resemblance to Spyro- said from nearby as he roasted sausages on his grill. Next to his chair rested an electric guitar in bright orange. “Best turnout we’ve had in years. And little dude, you got a front-row seat to all of this!” he said gesturing to the festival with a claw.

“...Yeah, it’s certainly somethin’, I’ll give you that.” Spike said and in spite of himself made little finger guns with his claws. It was perhaps an attempt to look ‘cool’ in front of the slightly older drake. Flame could only laugh and make them right back at him. 

“You’re alright little dude!” Flame said. “Hey Cyn, best you keep a watch on this one, he might grow up to outshine you!” he laughed.

“Don’t bet on it Flame!” Cynder laughed back. “Hey, how’s Ember doing?”

“Oh, still pestering me about that engagement ring. But me, I’m going to take life at my own pace brah,” Flame said resting his hands behind his head. “Don’t want to rush into anything, you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally do,” Cynder said while Spike looked on. The public Cynder as he decided to call her was so different from the one he’d seen in private. Far more outgoing and somewhat carefree. Was she putting up a form of mask, or were there two Cynders? One only Spyro and himself got to see, and the one the rest of the world saw? It was all very confusing for the young drake really.

Suddenly, he heard Flame let out a groan. “...Oh boy, here he comes… Though I managed to get this jackass to shoo!” 

Spike looked confused for a second until he saw the reason. A tall, pale lanky dragon coming up the path. Mostly white in scale color, with light pink frills or whatever you called them.

“Hey Fizzle,” Cynder said in a tone that clearly indicated she thought of the dragon with nothing else but possible unadulterated disgust. And Spike was about to find out exactly why. Sure, he was a handsome enough drake but…

“Hey, who’s the brat?” 

...His personality left lots to be desired.

“This brat as you call him, is my son. His name is Spike. Now, you got something to do, or do you want to piss off?” Cynder said stepping in front of Spike in a protective manner wings flared. Spike was soundly reminded that although Cynder was a nice enough sort for most of the time, she was still a Peacekeepers dragon and not someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. Clearly, this Fizzle hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

“Lady Cynder? Cavorting with the lower class?! With young drakes no less!” Fizzle asked before letting out a sharp perhaps overly dramatic gasp. “Oh, by Tiamat’s divine wing!”

He was also quite stupid, had I mentioned this yet? While most of these words went over young Spike’s head, Flame sucked in a breath and muttered: “Oh boy. Now he’s done it.” as the unsaid implications sunk in.

He quickly covered Spike’s ears as a classic category 6 level Cynder hurricane began to brew and come to a boil. Spike looked towards Cynder, whose face had turned a quite interesting shade of red. Then the mountain that was her threatening to explode finally… well, did.

“You… You…” the violet dragoness choked out now trembling with rage. “You… Insipid… Ignorant… IMBECILE!” she screamed letting out a breath of hot green flame that sent Fizzle running for the hills. “To accuse me of such a thing is… is… unforgivable! When I get my claws on you, you’ll wish you’ve never been born! Come back here and take your ass-kicking like a good drake!”

“Yeah, go get him Cyn! Kick his ass three ways from Sunday, rip out his throat! Show that jackass who’s boss!” Flame shouting dancing around and jumping up and down like an idiot. You have expected him to chant: “Go Cynder, go Cynder!” or something like that. 

“Oh, and by the way,” Flame said as he leaned down towards Spike who could only watch as Cynder chased Fizzle all around the festival grounds shooting him in the butt and making him cry tears of pain. “...If Cynder ever asks where you learned any of those words, deny everything. ...Actually, better yet? Don’t repeat them for a least a few years okay?”

Then a pink dragoness slightly younger than Cynder -about fifteen or so, sixteen at best- walked up looking quite confused. Turning to Flame, she raised an eyebrow. “...Wow, looks like a real storm blew through here.”

Flame rubbed the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “...Um… yeah, something like that really.” 

“You know anything about this?” Ember asked as she gestured to Fizzle now running past them with Cynder still in hot pursuit cursing and swearing up a storm and threatening violence. She if anything was quite persistent when someone ticked off.

“Um… Maybe a little Em. Best we uh…”

“Stay out of her way?” Ember asked before nodding. “Yeah, seems best.”

It was then she took notice of Spike and pulled him into a hug pinching his cheeks. In another life, Spike would probably compare this to his first meeting with Fluttershy. “Oh, you’re so cute. Oh, we’ve just got to dress you up in the cuutttttteeeesssstttt clothes!”

Spike suddenly wished he was still with Fizzle. 

Later, he found himself pinched and prodded at by Ember who as it turned out ran the local boutique, the pink dragoness trying to find the best possible outfit for young Spike. First, she tried robes, to make him look ‘simply majestic’ in her own words and then a few jackets. Flame had offered up a leather jacket and shades but Ember had vetoed that outright swatting it out of his claws. Making Spike look like a thug had no place in her store!

Spike once again felt that strange sort of warmth bubbling up inside him. He admitted he actually liked Cynder coming to his aid, and defending him even if he wasn’t quite sure what exactly had set her off. It felt… nice really. For just a brief moment, Spike felt like he had a mother again. Fighting back a sniffle he turned towards Ember.

“Is it alright to be confused about Cynder?” Spike asked with a small sigh. “I mean, she’s very… weird. Weird, but in a good way. Not quite sure how to put it into words, I mean. I mean, I just can’t decide on how-”

“You feel about her?” Ember said running a tape measure over his belly. She knew, just like about everyone else in Spyro’s circle of Spike’s situation. “Listen, she’s just looking out for you, ya know. Sure, Cynder’s a bit on the scary side and somewhat unapproachable -though this may just be to me given I used to have a teeny little crush on her husband- but she’s cool. Like, uber-cool. Makes me pretty jealous actually, and not just because of whom she happens to be mates with. Look, the point is, anyone with half a brain can tell she loves you as her own son. Her and Spyro.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Spike said. “I mean, after my mother, I don’t know if have room in my heart for-”

“Listen,” Ember said softly. “Your mother will always be with you, in your heart. Yeah, sure you miss her. Any sane or rational drake would. But she'll always be with you, as long as you remember the things she taught you. In a way, you'll never be apart, for you are still part of each other. And as for Cynder… well, you need not be born into a family to be loved by one don’t you think?”

“I… I think so… Yeah….” Spike murmured with a small nod of his head not really quite sure what to think. He got the general gist of what Ember was trying to say but he didn't know what to think of it exactly.

“What would you want me to do… Mom?” Spike asked himself before another voice cut through the air.

“Geez, Emms,” Cynder said as she walked into the boutique with a raised eyebrow. “What you trying to do, turn Spike into your own personal dress-up doll?”

“Hey, he can be pretty if he wants!” Ember declared. “Just because you think this sorta stuff is beneath you and all frou-frou doesn't mean Spikey here does!”

“Spikey?” both Flame and Cynder thought with small sweatdrops.

“Spikey?” Ember asked sweetly. “Tell Emms what you think of all this.”

“I could care less actually,” Spike commented with a small shrug of his shoulders and Flame facepalmed. Spike winced when he saw Ember's infuriated face. Bad move man, he thought to himself and quickly backtracked. “But… but I suppose it's not so bad I guess?”

Ember looked much more satisfied by that remark and gave off an approving nod for good measure. “That's better,” she said.

“So, is Fizzle nursing a burned as- sorry, burned butt now?” Flame asked quickly correcting himself upon Cynder’s stern glare.

“Last I saw he was trying to cool himself off in a river. I don’t think he’ll be bothering Spike anytime soon.” Cynder said with a small smirk that made everyone back up a few steps.

“Gnarly,” Flame said before asking: “You’re scary, you know that right Cynder?” 

“Damn right.”







As a final part of the day, Cynder took Spike through a portal into another part of the dragon realms. Normally, she could just fly there, but she was unsure on the fact just how grown Spike's wings actually were given she'd never seen him use them really. Plus she didn't she fancy having him ride on her back and hold on for dear life. So a portal it was.

“Oh, look at me… I’ve become the possibly overprotective mom,” Cynder thought to herself with a small smile as she thought about this and on the day’s prior events. “Didn’t even know I had it in me…”

Spike for his part nearly threw up upon exiting the portal and Cynder patted him on the back. “It’s okay kid, it’s pretty much like that for all of us on our first time. Pretty sure I projectile vomited on my first usage. Point is, you get used to it… eventually.”

Cynder declined to mention she had never gotten used to those damned things and tried to avoid them if at all possible. She sighed to herself in resignation. Looks like for the next few years, at the very least, she’d just have to grin and bear it. 

Walking slightly woozily, she stepped onto the stone pathway that led down into the icy caverns. Spike for his part was amazed, not even knowing Peace Keepers held such a secret and was making goofy faces in the icy walls that surrounded him. Crystals glinted and glittered in the warm light coming up from above, sparkling and creating quite the light show.

“So, what are we down here for Cynder?” Spike asked once he was done goofing off, having shouted into the abyss just to see how far his voice carried throughout the caverns. Cynder sighed to herself, looks like he still wasn’t calling her mom just yet.

“Gem hunting. Friend of mine in Magic Crafters needs a few hundred gems for some experiment of his -mad scientists, the lot of ‘em!- and both me and your dad have been… uh, pitching in your might say to give him a hand.”

“Yummy…” Spike said rubbing his hands together and licking his lips at the thought.

“...No eating the gems okay Spike?” Cynder said before smiling to herself. He was just like her at that age. “...Oh look at me, I have become such a sap haven’t I?” 

“So… Uh... “ Spike began not really knowing how to pose this question so he decided he’d just be upfront about it. “You… Uh, can’t have kids of your own can you?”

“How did you…” Cynder started her eyes widening in surprise. “...Oh, you saw that, didn’t you? Me, blubbering like a fool towards Spyro. Goddess, I must have looked so pathetic.”

Spike simply hugged her leg. “...No, it’s okay. I’m beginning to sorta understand why you took me in.”

“No, it’s not just that. It wasn’t just so I could have a child. It was because you needed a mother,” Cynder corrected as she used her claws to rip open some of the ice to reveal shining, sparkling gems of every color imaginable. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have in good conscience have let you gone to some orphanage. Tomas is sweet, but he’s often overwhelmed by the little guys. And to be honest, even as well-maintained as that orphanage is, it’s not exactly the world’s best substitute for a…”

“...Real family,” Spike whispered in a voice almost too soft to hear. 

“Yeah yeah, y’all are such saps, we get it,” a scratchy voice said and both Cynder and Spike turned to see this orange dragoness about Spike’s age -maybe older- pulling a cart of gems behind her. She was dressed in an adorable little sweater and earmuffs. “You’re really cute. By and by, if you’re going to have a family conversation better not broadcast it in these caves for all to hear. I mean, your voice goes a loooooooongggggg way.”

“Yes, well, you shouldn’t have eavesdropped!” Spike said in a huff snorting out two little puffs of green flame from his nostrils.

“Ooh, little spitfire aren’t you?” the orange dragoness said with a small chuckle. “Look, I’m sorry. I admit I probably shouldn’t have been listening in. Apologies?” she asked sticking out her hand. “Want me to spit swear or something?”

“Apologies and no thank you! By the way ...Who are you again?” Spike asked scratching his head in confusion and bewilderment. 

“Friends call me Smolder,” the young dragoness introduced herself. “And you are?”

“Play dumb, she could be an enemy after your gems! She could have stolen those from other dragons!” Spike thought rapidly. 

“...Okay, my name certainly isn’t Spike and you are certainly not encroaching on my mother’s haul!” Spike squeaked out and then mentally facepalmed. “Not that dumb!”

Smolder for her part just burst out laughing. “Okay. Mr. Certainly Not Spike, won’t say a word. But seriously, I know who you are. You’re pretty much the talk of the realms. You and your adoptive parents.”

“...Yeah, not sure if I’m ready to call them that just yet…” Spike murmured. To his surprise, Cynder had walked off probably to go hunting for more gems. Either that or she was watching from the shadows ready to strike in case Smolder did something stupid. Probably the latter, overprotective as she was.

“Suit yourself, because you’re certainly acting like Cynder is your mommy,” Smolder remarked. “But seriously, I’m nowhere near stupid enough to steal from the Terror of the Skies’ haul. My dumbshit brother on the other hand… well, he’s probably another story.”

“You shouldn’t use that word…” Spike trailed off.

“...What? Dumbshit?” Smolder laughed. “Dumbshit! Dumbshit! Not like rocks fall and everyone dies horribly if I say it. Seriously, man, you have got to lighten up. Go on dude, enjoy yourself.”

“...Cynder scares me, and I’d rather not be punished.” Spike said.

“You’re such a momma’s boy,” Smolder giggled. “Well, see ya around Spike. I’ve gotta get these gems back to Beast Makers and uncle Bubba. Laters!” she said before dragging her cart off through a nearby portal.

“Well, she seems nice,” Cynder said as she -surprise surprise- walked out of the shadows pulling a minecart of her own loaded down with gems. “So, is my boy taken with her already? Does he have a friend?”

“...She’s a jerk, that’s what she is,” Spike huffed with a small cross of his arms. “She’s RUDE!”

“Eh, she’s just like that just because she likes you. Trust me, that’s how it starts. First, the hair pulling and then… welp… Spike and Smolder, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

“S-Shut up!” Spike stammered out with a small blush. “Anyways, don’t we have plenty of other gems to go and find? I mean, it’s a big ice cavern -and by the way, I still want to hear how this place can form in a desert- and there’s probably lots of areas to search. That is, if she hasn’t cleared the place out already…” he huffed with a small cross of his arms.

Cynder threw back her head and laughed. “Trust me, I know these caves better than anyone, except perhaps the dragons who live here full time. Not sure what sane dragon would want to live in an ice cave but… Anyways, I’m getting off track here. Look at me, starting to ramble. Seriously though, I know more secrets about these caves than that little one even would find in a week of searching.”

“...So the day’s still young is it?” Spike asked rubbing his claws together. “Well, I say bring it on…”

“That’s the spirit! I’ll make an adventurer out of you yet kiddo!” Cynder called. “Come along now! Lots to do yet!”

“Oh, by the way, how’d you earn the nickname Terror of the Skies…?”

“Oh, it involves me, a platoon of Gnorcs and a little side job in Gnorc Gnexus…”
> 4: Fathers and Sons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So... “ Nestor said as Cynder returned home to the Artisans homeland, greeting her as the festival began to close down for the night. Lights began to slowly go out, stalls closed and fireworks were brought in alongside the little ones. Festivities would go on into the night, but those were mainly of the ‘adult fun’ kind, not meant for young drakes. “...Heard you and Spike had a little adventure of sorts!” the green-scaled dragon remarked as Spyro flew down to join them. Flame, knowing the way home escorted Spike there.

“...Or more accurately, Spike had a little adventure and a little meeting with someone. If I didn’t know better I’d say there would be love on the horizon for those two!” Nestor remarked, and Spyro turned to look at his mate in shock.

“Is… is this true? Do… do I need to give the ‘talk’ to Spike now?” Spyro asked looking as if he was practically praying towards anyone who was listening that this wasn’t the case. “...Nestor, if this is true you gotta help me.”

“Oh no, some duties are left to fathers alone!” Nestor said still having the nightmares of having to explain the birds and the bees to his young charge. “This one is totally out of my hands kid.”

“...Ugh, the gossip chain runs fast, doesn’t it?” Cynder muttered in distaste almost but confirming poor young Spyro’s fears. “Bet it’s that yappy kirin Fern Flare. Knew we shouldn’t have invited him and Cinder Glow to the festivities. I swear, ever since they regained their voices they’ve been chattier than ever…”

While we won’t get into details about the kirin quite just yet, the meeting with them and the dragons of the realm was a fairly interesting one indeed. Spyro and Cynder had known the legends well enough, a long time ago a pony and a dragon had somehow mated and produced an egg clutch. That egg clutch continued into the present day as the kirins, quiet little things who generally liked to keep to themselves. Well, except for that odd one who was into musical theatre. 

“...Oh god. I’m going to need some brain bleach soon aren’t I… Bet I can get Gavin or Eldrid to brew some…” Spyro muttered to himself before Cynder slapped her mate over the head. 

“Don’t be an idiot. It’s not that hard, just tell him to be safe about things and insert plug A into hole B!” Cynder said with a little smirk as both Nestor and Spyro blushed red at her crassness. Cynder then burst out laughing once more. “Oh, you two are so easy. Quite honestly, I highly doubt we’ll have to worry about that anytime soon. Joke about it we may, but I don’t think they’ll be mating anytime soon. Spike thinks Smolder’s a jerk, really. Besides, they’re a bit young for it I think…”

Spyro raised an eyebrow. “Bit young for it? He’s fourteen. ...Lord Torch above, I remember what horny little bastards we were at that age. ...Oh, and let’s not forget how bad Ember and Flame are. ...I’m still not sure they’re out of their ‘honeymoon’ period.”

“...I don’t think any of us are sure they are…” Nestor muttered with a small roll of his eyes. “Just last week I caught the two having sex in my office! And as you always say Cynder, it starts with hair pulling and then moves right into kissing!”

“So you’re saying I should be worried?” Spyro asked. “...Oh, I’m going to go grey before I hit a hundred by this rate!” 

Cynder patted him on the back supportively. “So, should we be giving Smolder the “I hurt you and rip your guts out if you hurt him and break his heart” talk now? I mean, I know where her uncle Bubba lives…” 

“Don’t tempt me…” Spyro grumbled a few puffs of smoke snorting out from his nostrils. 

Nestor burst out laughing and both Spyro and Cynder looked at him with varying expressions of bewilderment. Then Spyro caught on and soon began to laugh as well.

“Um… Okay, I’m… I’m sorta lost here,” Cynder said. “I… Either of you mind explaining what’s so funny to the so obviously not telepathic one of the bunch here?”

“You don’t get it yet?” Nestor asked. “You’re acting like parents already! Just as I said to Spyro, you’d both figure it out!”

Cynder soon realized he was exactly right and fought back a chuckle as well, feeling a burning warmth within her chest. Love. She knew it had to be none other. Her face fell and her wings drooped as she was hit with another realization. 

“You alright Cyn?” Spyro asked with more than a touch of concern.

“We’re already calling him our son, and yet… and yet he hasn’t worked up the courage to call either of us his parents yet…” Cynder murmured with a small sigh. “What’d you say about this Nestor? That’d it come with time?”

“Mhm, exactly,” Nestor agreed with a small nod. “You weren’t instantly expecting him to come around to you, were you? No… no, the poor boy’s still -and always will be- in love with his birth mother. He’ll let you into his heart soon enough, given the interactions between the three of you that I’ve seen and your general personalities but it will take time.”

“Thank you, Nestor,” Cynder said with a small smile before she narrowed her eyes at him. “...Wait, please tell me you, Gavin and Maximos aren’t already placing bets, are you? Are you?” she asked in a slightly threatening manner.

Cynder still remembered when the three were placing bets on when she and Spyro were going to get together. She knew Nestor still kept the rubies from his win. She also suspected nobody really won anything, given it just seemed to be the same bag of gems that the three passed around for their at times increasingly ridiculous bets. Cynder also remembered the satisfaction she had gotten for sending all three of them running for the hills when she had found out about it.

“N-No!” Nestor said shaking his head rapidly. Spyro wondered if he was going to get whiplash from it. “Not at all!”

Spyro took note of the gem bag he was hiding behind his back but said nothing.

“...Okay…” Cynder replied not really believing him for a minute but electing to stay silent on the matter. 

“Just hurry up on it, okay?” Nestor said with a smile. “And while you’re on it, when are you going to give me those grandbabies I’ve been hoping to spoil?”

“Goddamnit Nestor!” Spyro almost whined as Nestor burst out laughing as he walked his way home. “...I thought I told you to stop bugging us about it…”

“...I really hate your dad sometimes, you know that right?” Cynder asked.







The next day Spyro awoke bright and early. Cynder was already out at the festival grounds helping to prep things and on guard duty. Not that he minded, as this gave him some one on one time with his new son.

He smiled. Son. It felt so right really. He never would have thought about it until he adopted Spike but yet he found himself liking the term the more and more he actually thought about it.

Spyro’s smile found itself turning into a frown as he thought about the circumstances that were actually behind Spike’s adoption. Scale Hunters, he’d heard other dragons call them. These gnorcs were braver than the usual kind and actually actively went after other dragons no matter the size. Most were gnorcs armed to the teeth with goo guns and such, but as Spike had found out the hard way some of the beast taming gnorcs got in on the fun as well. Now you wouldn’t have thought vultures could have been particularly dangerous to a fully grown dragon and you would have been absolutely right. But when they were teamed with gnorcs they often swarmed the dragon in question while the gnorcs closed in for the kill with electro rods and flintlock pistols.

Fighting back a growl, Spyro brushed the thoughts away. Slowly but surely the scale hunters were being found and dealt with by the Peace Keepers and Dream Weavers dragons. You never would have thought dragons who dealt with dreams could be so vicious but Spyro knew otherwise. After all, if you were somehow stupid enough to mess with their kin they could really give you some nasty night terrors. Said night terrors could last long enough for another dragon to hunt you down and smash your skull in with a sledgehammer.

“Spike?” Spyro called throughout the home. “You there little buddy?”

“...Ugh yeah, I’m here…” Spike said as he emerged from his bedroom rubbing his eyes tiredly. “...Could have yelled a little louder why don’t you?” 

“Sorry,” Spyro laughed sheepishly. “Was just looking for you kid, that’s all,” he said giving his adoptive son a little noogie.

“St-Stop!” Spike laughed. “So, did you come looking for me for any reason in particular or… because if not there’s a nice gem with my name on it that looks awfully tasty right about now…”

Spyro chuckled to himself, that explained why he’d found a few gems missing from the cupboard. Seems Spike had helped himself to a little midnight snack. 

“So, just thinking that’s all,” Spyro said. “Not something I’m generally known for, but I see you’ve gone through the ‘molt’ as we call it, earned your wings,” he said gesturing to the two extra appendages Spike was sporting jutting out from his back.

“So?” Spike asked with a small shrug. “What of it?”

“Just thought we could go for a little fly over the dragon lands. I won’t tell Cynder about it as long as you don’t, and I thought it could serve as some good… uh, bonding time.”

He hesitated to call it ‘father-son bonding time’ as he wasn’t quite sure where Spike stood on that particular issue. He didn’t want to rush him any more than he needed to really. 

Memories rushed through Spike’s head at the mention of the word ‘flying’. He remembered her, her warm voice and her soft pink scales that shined like a winter twilight over the horizon. He remembered his father as well. White scales, like new-fallen snow. Both of them flying alongside him and urging him on and up into the air when after he had just stopped molting. He heard their cheers of joy, and his mother’s voice once more.

“I know you can do anything… my son. My little Spike.”

Noticing how Spyro was looking at him oddly, Spike quickly gave him an answer.

“....Yeah, yeah, I like flying really. Just… uh, don’t want to do it right now, that’s all…” Spike said fighting back a tear or two and Spyro nodded in understanding.

“It’s okay, I understand, it’s cool…” Spyro replied sounding a bit dejected and brushing at the ground with his claw. “Look, I’ve gotta cook breakfast. Normally Cynder does it… but, uh, as you can see she decided to get started bright and early today. Even took the bagels I normally have ready for her. ...she has a craving for them as I understand it. Them and watermelons.”

Spike followed behind, still nibbling on his gem as Spyro walked into the kitchen and began cooking a spot of eggs and bacon. He even wore a cute little frilly pink apron that said: “World’s best dragon” on it for good measure. He got no end of teasing from Cynder about this, but who was he to turn down a gift from Elora. Nobody turned down a gift from Elora. She was scary like that.

Spyro was so focused on getting his coffee ready that what he didn’t see was said eggs and bacon catching on fire.

“Ackl” Spyro shouted when he finally did take notice after the smell of smoke reached his nostrils, and he quickly began trying to put the fire out before it burned down the whole house.

“...What… what do I do?” Spyro asked looking towards Spike for answers.

“How do I know? Do I look like I’ve ever cooked a day in my life?” Spike said looking left and right in a panic to find something -anything really- to help put out the fire. 

Spyro then remembered the fire extinguisher Cynder kept nearby, like always kept nearby just in case something like this ever happened. It wouldn’t have been the first time something like this had happened really. For either of them, believe it or not. Cynder may have been the more accomplished cook between the two but even she had her mishaps in the kitchen. Quickly grabbing it Spyro pressed down and sprayed foam all over the fire… and all over the bacon and eggs which were now obviously ruined.

“...Well, that could have gone better,” Spyro admitted and Spike nodded weakly. “Let’s never mention this one to your mom okay? ...I mean Cynder okay?” Spyro said quickly correcting his verbal slip-up. He was amazed he hadn’t made one sooner really. He groaned to himself. Real nice Spyro, he thought. Real nice.

 “...Let’s see if we can find something I’m less likely to burn. Like a honeydew melon or some good old fashioned dragonfruit. Or maybe… ah yes! Here they are! The wumpa fruits!” Spyro crowed triumphantly after a bit of searching and rummaging through the cupboards. He held up what looked to be an odd cross between a peach and an apple before calling: “Here, catch!”

He tossed it towards Spike who quickly leaped up and swallowed it whole before shouting back: “He shoots, he scores! Oh yes, I’m the dragon!” 

Spyro had to stifle his laughter at Spike doing a triumphant little dance of giddy joy. 

Spike for his part admitted he hadn’t felt like this in ages. For the first time, he did admit to himself only at least he could see why the other dragons liked Spyro. He was a bit of a doofus but he was fun to be around. He was like the sun, blazing bright and attracting others to him with his warmth. Spike himself he admitted. His eyes widened in realization. No, he thought to himself. Surely he couldn’t be… He surely couldn’t be starting to think of his fellow dragon like that could he? No, it was far too soon, far too soon for this sort of thing wasn’t it? 

“Yeah… Uh, Spyro?” Spike asked fighting back more tears. “...Could we… uh, postpone the flying thing, and just take a little walk around the festival? I… uh, want to see it a bit more.”

“Sure kid… sure.” Spyro said with a soft smile. He could be patient. Roam wasn’t built in a day as they said. And like that Roam analogy, Spike surely wasn’t going to accept him as his new father with open arms in just a week. He could be patient, Spyro told himself. It hurt yes, but he could be patient.

And so the two set across the festival grounds, taking in the day and the fun to be had. Spyro, while tossing milk bottles with his son heard shouting and both looked to see Cynder. She was leading out this massive dragon with lime green scales and purple spines out of the festival by sword point. Said dragon was clutching a few kegs of beer in claw and had a bit of a gut.

“...Oh, him,” Spyro said and when Spike looked confused Spyro was happy to explain. Okay, happy may not have been the operative word here but you get a general idea. “Guy’s called Sludge, and there has never been more fitting a moniker for a dragon than his own. He’s slime really, always coming in and causing a lot of trouble. He even hits on Cynder, and perhaps needless to say we’re all quite sick and tired of him.”

“Well, can’t you just go ahead and banish him from your lands or somethin’?” Spike asked with no small amount of confusion. Spyro sighed and rubbed his temples.

“...Trust me, we’d all like to but unless he actually commits an actual legit serious crime like murder or something we can’t just do that. We can’t go throwing our weight around like the dragons of old. We’re feared for a reason kid, we’re still trying to shake off some of our reputation as mindless brutes to the lands surrounding us.” Spyro said.

Spike remembered a similar conversation with his mother.

“Now Spike,” she’d said to him back then. “We’re bigger and more powerful than a lot of the other races in the realms. That’s why we’re feared. That’s why you’ll be feared. You’ve got to keep your head hung up high, as others will judge you. You need to give them a reason to not fear you, and accept you for who you are.”

“...Ah, I see…” Spike said. “I gotcha. Thanks, da-I mean, Spyro.” 

Spyro had taken notice of his little slip-up, and smiled but decided to say nothing about it. He was getting there. He was getting there like Nestor had said he would, slowly but surely. Yeah, there was that feeling again. That surge of warmth. That surge of parental love for his son that only a father could ever know and be proud over. He remembered Nestor describing it and how it was like no other feeling in the world. He was right on the money as always.

“Happy to help kid,” Spyro said as the two continued their walk. “Happy to help.”

As soon as the two were in one of the quieter areas of the festival, passing an older dragon sculpting a bust -it was of some great warrior resembling Maximos in some way- Spike finally spoke again. “...How bad is it, I mean? Mom being infertile? How bad is it for her?” he asked softly.

“Oh… right, Cyn did mention you overheard that to me…” Spyro said his wings drooping upon the reminder. He sat down next to Spike and wrapped a wing around him as he began to explain. To his surprise, Spike didn’t object to this motion. “Well, it’s not something I can easily explain. It’s more of a dragoness thing but Cynder obviously won’t completely elaborate on it for reasons you understand. I just know it’s pretty bad for her at times.”

“That’s… that’s why she wants me as a son so bad isn’t it?” Spike asked. “I mean, she told me it was only part of the reason but…”

“Yeah, it’s part of the reason kid,” Spyro admitted. “But make no mistake, she also loves you and wants you as a son because… well, what’s not to like about you kid? You’re funny, you’re spunky…”

“Then I’m not just some replacement for the son she can never really have?” Spike asked.

“No, you’re not. Never think that kid,” Spyro said. “Never think that!”

“I… I see…” Spike said. “...I suppose while we’re confessing things, I have something to say as well. I… I declined the offer of going flying together not because I didn’t want to -because I really did want to!- but because I felt I’d be disrespecting my mother’s memory.”

“...How’s that kid?” Spyro asked.

“Flying… well, it was like something me and her shared, just the two of us,” Spike admitted. “I… I don’t know how to explain it, but when we were up there together we felt…”

“Free as a bird?” Spyro finished. “...Yeah, I know what you mean. Flying, there’s nobody or nothing to tie you down, no rules or regulations or anything. And spending time with that special someone, whether it be your own mother or your mate, or your sibling or whoever it is? That just makes it even better. You get me?”

“Yeah, I get you…” Spike said his own wings drooping in sadness. “I’m sorry Spyro, if I seem like such a jerk, it’s just that I-”

“No, you’re alright kiddo,” Spyro said. “You’re still grieving, I can understand that. Torch knows that if I lost Nestor to something and I was suddenly adopted into some strange family I’d probably have a tough time. You just take all the time you need and just know this. We’re not here to replace your birth parents. We never were. There’s still plenty of room in your heart for them, and for us. We’ll honor your parents. They’re part of our family now, just like you’re part of ours.”

That was the kicker that finally opened the floodgates. Throughout this whole speech of Spyro’s Spike had been listening with slowly widening and watering eyes. And when it happened, when Spyro said these words the dam finally broke wide open. Spike rushed towards his father and hugged him tightly crying out: “Daddy…!” and sobbing into his chest scales. Spyro simply draped his wings around his son and let him cry.

“It’s okay kid, you go on. Keep crying for as long as you need,” Spyro said to himself. “I’ll be there for you… always.”






In the Dream Weavers realm, Luna and Lateef watched with a smile through a crystal ball even as another dragon, an icy aqua blue walked up. They didn’t notice him approaching and just continued to watch the father-son moment unfold.

“...So, it’s finally happened,” Lateef said. “I was wondering when it would. ...Oh, by Tiamat. I owe Gavin five rubies!”

Luna stared at her fellow dream weaver for a second before laughing a little. “And what of Spyro’s strange dreams that he came to you about a few days ago?”

“They are… something he will have to work out on his own really,” Lateef admitted. “I thought them a danger at first… No, we thought them a danger at first but they are really something Spyro must work through on his own.”

“Even if they take the shape of… him?” Luna asked. “He is still a concern and you know it. The Dark Master’s taint isn’t fully gone from this world, as creatures like the ones you call gnorcs still exist.”

“And we slowly battle away at the dark, to erase it,” Lateef said in return. “You worry about your own land’s problems. I know it is slowly coming to the time when you must return to your sister.”

“...Yes…” Luna whispered her form flashing briefly between its normal appearance and a darker side, covered in light blue armor. The shadows in the room seemed to grow ever darker for just a brief moment before receding. “Yes… Yes, it is around that time is it not? I can only hope my sister’s student is up to the task of finding the Elements and reuniting them to save me from my prison. A prison of my own making I admit, but a prison nonetheless.”

“I’m sure you will be fine,” Lateef reassured in that wisened voice he was known so well for. “Here, time and space is warped but even I can tell my calming presence has had an effect on you. When we first met, you were so full of rage and now you are barely a threat to this realm at all.”

Long ago, Luna’s powers had reached out from her moon prison and had touched the dream realm. Lateef was one of the first on the scene and had rapidly stopped the Nightmare’s power from tainting the realm. He in fact reached out to her and gave her a voice to talk to. With that, he could see the future slowly change to a far better world where one student met her destiny far sooner. The lands were calmed much sooner than they originally were as well, with the kirins finding their voices again and Cadence becoming a ruler of the land of crystal far quicker.

“...Yes, yes, I have changed haven’t I Lateef?” Luna smiled as she began to fade away. “I know that the young student my sister dear has chosen shall be up to the task.”

As Luna left the world of dreams just as Cynder began to chase a bag holding Gavin around, Ignitus suppressed a smirk as he took one last look at the reincarnated version of his son and smiled. “Good work… Spyro. I’ve never been more proud.”
> 5: Rivalries
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spyro and Spike walked home after their little father-son talk, the festivities once again coming to a close and stalls packing up for the night.

The sun set for the night, evening came, as it often did and Cynder was exhausted. She after dealing with that Torch forsaken idiot Sludge just wanted to go home and take a nice hot bath. Not that anyone could blame her, and her fellow Peace Keepers tossed her a few sympathetic looks.

“Coffee?” Maximos asked walking over to her with a purple beverage in hand. “Fresh from the Green Dragon. Gavin’s specialty.”

“Thanks,” Cynder muttered tiredly. “...I swear, even if nothing’s happened aside from some unruly guests I feel like I just went ten rounds with the Sorceress without my dragonfly by my side.”

“That bad huh?” Maximos said nodding in sympathy. Crickets and frogs began to croak and chirp in the background beginning their evening songs. Cynder closed her eyes even as Maximos continued to speak, the nightly tunes quite relaxing to her. She swore in another life she was probably a Beast Tamer. “...Look on the bright side, least you weren’t tasked with playing babysitter to the younger kids. I adore the little sprouts, I do, but Torch above can they be rambunctious!” Maximos exclaimed.

“Well, at least in a few days it’ll all be over and the monthly festivities will pack up again and it’ll be five more years before we have to deal with this nonsense,” Cynder said sighing as she took a sip of her beverage. Tasted like heaven to the tired dragoness.

“...Aww, surely it can’t be that bad, right?” Maximos commented. “I mean, look around ya, we’ve had creatures from far and wide come to have a bit of fun and immerse themselves in dragon culture. I mean, hell, even the kirins as keep to themselves as they normally are were here!”

“I suppose there is that,” Cynder muttered. “But it’s not like I’ll be sad to see certain idiots go. ...Oh Torch, I just remembered. Bubba said he’d be here tomorrow. Now he’s fine, but his nephew Garble on the other hand…”

“Ugh,” Maximios muttered with a small trace of disgust. “...He’s a punk, that’s what he is. Needs a good solid smack to the head if you were to ask me. And even then, I’m skeptical of that actually working really…”

“Yep. He’s got a skull as hard as a diamond from all that I’ve heard, but nowhere near as good looking as them really,” Cynder commented. “He’s eighteen now, same as me and Spyro and yet the ass is still a troublemaker. It’s like he’s stuck as an unruly teenage delinquent. Punkass.”

“Look on the bright side, where Garble goes his sister follows really,” Maximos said. “Cute little thing, fairly spunky and always manages to keep him in line. And cute in more ways than one from what I hear. At least, your son certainly seems to think so…”

“...Do all we do is gossip about my son and whatever he gets up to? I mean, surely we’re better than the damn tabloids…” Cynder growled. “...Listen, I don’t mind the possibility of my son having a little crush or whatnot but don’t you guys have anything better to do than just gossip like a bunch of little girls?”

“Sorry, it’s just it’s fairly boring around here right now, no enemies to get into any scraps with,” Maximos commented. “And yes, while being at peace is in fact a good thing for us Peace Keepers it means we have very little to do. So we talk about whatever happens to be the most interesting at the moment. And for right now, and actually, most of the time, what’s interesting is you, your mate and now your son. Dragons do love to talk about their local heroes and legends, and make no mistake that’s what you and your family are Mrs. Terror of the Skies.”

“I’m flattered, really,” Cynder deadpanned. “But quite honestly, I’m fairly certain under all this attention my son would probably crack. He’s not Spyro or me really. He doesn’t want the attention. He’s not actually going out to be a hero or go for glory like you or me.”

“You want him to be his own drake then?” Maximos asked cocking an eyebrow. “Good job on you Cynder, you’ve really grown up. A far cry from the rather angry and somewhat unsure of herself dragoness that crash-landed in Dark Hollow 5 or so years ago…” he said with more than a hint of pride. Maximos, he’d sorta become an honorary uncle to Cynder over the years teaching her how to be a proper dragon and when she wanted to become a Peace Keeper he’d been over the moon. Cynder didn’t mind, she liked Maximos and saw him as family. If Nestor was her second adoptive father than Maximos was the cool uncle.

“...Don’t you have some griffon to go off and romance?” Cynder asked as Maximos gave her a noogie. She laughed a little at this, though she would fervently deny it if she was ever asked.  Maximos gave out a deep belly laugh before they both saw Spyro and Spike walking up the path. Spike had collapsed atop his father’s back, and Spyro seemed to be in an even more chipper mood than normal. Cynder didn’t even think that was possible, though every day threw her new surprises.

Finally, the violet dragoness decided enough was enough and it was time to satisfy her curiosity. She couldn’t help but smile as she tried to get her mate’s attention. “Alright, I’ll bite; what's got you so giddy right now? And where were you and Spike actually, as a matter of fact?” she asked smiling impishly at him.

Spyro’s only response was to smile brightly and used his tail to stroke his son’s back in a gentle manner. “Let me guess, it’s got something to do with Spike?”

“He finally said it, Cyn,” Spyro said in a low whisper, careful not to leap his sleeping son. “Nestor was right, just give it a bit of time and some patience and out it would come!”

It took Cynder a minute but then she realized with slowly widened eyes. She was being careful to contain herself. she was a grown dragoness, and the Terror of the Skies after all. She had a reputation to uphold! Need not shatter it now by acting like a giddy little hatchling. “...Let’s just hope Nestor doesn’t rub it in our faces really… He does like being right after all. Well in any case, this young one needs to be put back in his nest and I need a nice long sleep…”

Cynder had to suppress another smile as she watched her sleeping son’s slow rise and falls of his chest. She then felt another familiar sensation rush through her. Love really. Her eyes narrowed briefly as she looked to the timberlands beyond the festival grounds, where darker things lurked. The gnorcs, if they even dared tried to disrupt her new family would be in for the shock of their lives. The last mistake any gnorc made, it was said, was angering a dragon. And that held all too true for one who now had a hatchling to protect.

Spike for his part in all of this did sorta feel like he was on a bit of a high, not that he knew he could describe it as such. But he had a family again. A family! Sure, they were a bit of an odd family but still, they were a family.

If the young drake could put this current feeling into words, he’d probably describe it as ‘awesome’ or ‘epic’ or something like that. Certainly not euphoric at any rate, as he wasn’t quite old enough to know those kinds of words. Heaven forbid when he did grow up enough to learn them, even if he was already a young teenager. It was simply a matter of the fact that Cynder didn’t want her little baby boy to grow up any faster than he already had. If she had her way, she was quite intent on letting Spike cherish every last remaining moment Spike actually had of his childhood. Not that Spike particularly minded per se, but there were those moments when his mother got that slightest bit overprotective. 

Take for example his Uncle Hunter. He was the cool, crazy uncle everyone in the family liked in small doses, except for perhaps the brother in arms. That brother in arms, in this case, being of course, Spyro. Spike liked him as well, so Cynder figured it was probably just a guy thing. She still didn’t like him anywhere near her baby boy for any lengthy period of time, no matter what her mate said.

Her point in her mind at the very least was proven, of course, when she found the cheetah skateboarding atop some house roofs early one morning. 

“...Uh, hey Cynder…” Hunter stammered out as he saw one very annoyed dragoness staring him down. “What’s up? Besides, you know the birds, the bees, and the clouds and uh… things…” 

In retrospect, he should have realized that with the Year of the Dragon festival coming to a close Cynder would now be sleeping in later to catch up on her Zs. So skateboarding on the top of her house -didn’t matter how he quite exactly got up there to begin with- and making a hell of a racket in the process was inadvisable. 

“...Do you have any idea what time it is, for Tiamat’s sake?” Cynder grumbled really not wanting to deal with this particular type of thing this early in the day. “...Please just tell me you don’t have any utterly bonebrained ideas about doing this with my son?”

“Cynder, listen. I may not be the brightest bulb in the bunch, but even I know what kinds of stupid that would be,” Hunter said in reply. “I’d teach him to skateboard, yes, but not skateboard on my level just yet, or if at all!” he said quickly backtracking upon seeing the look Cynder shot him. “I’d just take him to the regular skate parks, and keep an eye on him at all times. Two eyes really, as often as I can spare them.”

“...I’m sorry Hunter, I really am,” Cynder muttered to herself. “Goddess, I must seem like the world’s most overprotective mother don’t I?”

“No, trust me. It’s cool. It’s cool,” Hunter said as he leaped down from the rooftop onto the grass below, with Cynder following. She glid down into the courtyard and tucked in her wings as she walked with the cheetah. “Personally, I can completely understand. If Bianca and I ever had a kid, we’d react the exact same way if he chose to… say, take up swordplay.”

“Think there’s a staunch difference between being a daredevil and being a warrior, but yeah, I see your point,” Cynder conceded. “It’s just my first kid y’know? I’m not sure what to do half the time, and even when I’m doing something I don’t know if it’s the right things.”

“You’ll figure it out Cynder,” Hunter said reassuringly. “I know you will. I know you and Spyro, anything you set your minds to… you do.”

“...Thanks, Hunter,” Cynder smiled. “Like really, thanks.”

“Anytime!” the cheetah said tossing her a salute before leaping off to Tiamat only knew where. Cynder chuckled to himself. Such a dumbass…







Spyro for his part in all of this when he had heard Garble and Smolder were coming was unsure what the hell to think. Okay, he knew two things. One, a known bully was coming to Artisans and two, Spike’s presumed crush was coming as well with him. Joy of joys. Cynder would probably smack him if she had even the faintest idea of what was going through her mate’s mind but she wasn’t here now was she?

He had to play the overprotective dad, he couldn’t let Cynder do everything relating to parenting really. He knew it, he just knew it. He would have to keep that little dragoness’s paws off his son. Somehow, he would have to find a way to keep the two of them from meeting. He just knew it.

Of course, while he made his way around this problem in his head he found himself running right into his second problem. One tall, crimson red cauldron of rage known as Garble.

“Hey, watch where you’re walking, hero!” Garble said poking Spyro in the chest. Spike took a few steps back swallowing nervously with an audible ‘gulp’ as he sized up the older dragon.

In the background, one orange dragoness watched. “...Oh no, here we go again…” she thought to herself. She had hoped her brother would be able to contain himself. Evidently, she was wrong.

“So, who’s the little pipsqueak?” Garble asked.

“That little pipsqueak as you call him is my son,” Spike hissed out small embers snorted from his nostrils. “...You got a problem with that?” he asked. A small crowd was beginning to gather as they always did.

Spyro had to groan. Ever since he was a little kid, Garble had been nothing but trouble. He and Spyro had always had this sort of… rivalry you might say. When one tried something, the other tried to outdo them. And Garble often went overboard, often scaring away shepherds from their flocks just so he could toast more sheep than Spyro. The two brought out the worst in each other and today was hardly any exception. 

“Yeah…” Garble started. “Just didn’t know someone like you even had the props to raise a son at all. Respect dude.”

Spyro blinked. Was Garble being… nice? No, it couldn’t have been.

“Shame he turned out so shrimpy though!” 

Ah, there it was. The backhanded compliment, a favorite of Garble’s. And more was to come.

“So, what, you couldn’t give it all to Cynder, so you had to adopt?” Garble mocked. 

“...You couldn’t be half of the dragon I am…” Spyro hissed out. He knew better, just turn and walk away. He was better than Garble. “You want to shut up now?”

“Oh, sorry, did I offend you?” Garble asked. “...I never realized the great and powerful Spyro was such a special sn-”

That did it, and Spyro pounced on Garble punching him several times. A few gasps echoed before Spyro pulled himself up off Garble and winced at his handiwork, the dragon now sporting a black eye amongst other things.

“...Dad?” Spike asked before Spyro sighed. 

“...Just… let’s just go…” Spyro muttered to himself before flying off not missing the look Smolder had shot him.

“...Um, okay, what was that about?” Smolder asked. “...I know my brother and your dad have always had a bit of a problem with each other, but Tiamat above… That was something else!”

Spike for his part had no real answer. “...Seems like a really personal thing, to be honest…” he murmured. “I… I uh, apologize for any of that Smolder. Please don’t let my dad and your brother’s little… thing ruin your day okay?”

Smolder blinked. What was with this dragon? He was too damn nice really, no dragon should have a right to be this nice. Especially after finding out what a dick the brother of one of their best -okay, only- friends could be. Yeah, she decided then and there, Spike was definitely his father’s son.

“...Jeez, were you knocked on the head or something? No need to apologize for my brother being an ass,” Smolder muttered. “Man, what he said was so uncalled for…”

“Eh, those two will work it out, hopefully,” Spike said although his tone indicated he didn’t really believe it. “Come on Smolder, you came here to enjoy the festival right? I see no reason why you should stop just now because our relatives are going at it…”

“...Yeah, I suppose…” Smolder said with her wings drooping slightly. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Spike asked. 

“It’s just, well… I hoped Gar-Gar and your dad would have worked out this crap by now… That’s all…”

“Gar-Gar?” Spike said with a small snigger.

“Shaddup, he’s my brother and I can call him whatever I want okay?” Smolder muttered before her eyes sparkled as she saw a stall. Next, she grabbed a very confused Spike by the arm “Oh, look. Milk bottles! You better win me one of those plushies, Spikey!”

“...I have no idea what’s going on anymore…” Spike muttered to himself. Not that he really minded, spending time with Smolder was… fun really. She was fairly cheery for her age. Sure, her brother was a bit of a bad egg, but she was pretty fun to be around. “Okay, what the hell’s wrong with me? You thought she was a jerk, dude. So what the hell just happened?”

He was even more confused by why his heart beat faster when Smolder grabbed him in a bone-crushing hug upon winning a plushie that looked like a sheep. He groaned. Girls were so confusing at times. First, she was sniping at him with snarky remarks, now she was hugging him. A little bit of consistency, that’s all he asked for. 

But all the same, he hated seeing her frown whenever she thought of her brother. It just looked… wrong on her, even if Spike wasn’t entirely sure why really. “Well, Spike old boy, guess that means it’s now YOUR job to make her crack a smile again, or make a snarky remark at you for being a bit of an idiot or something…”

He definitely had his work cut out for him, Spike decided. But it would be a fun challenge at least. And it was his job as Snolder’s friend -was that what he was now?- to make her smile again. “Come on Smolder, you want to meet my mother again? Like this time, properly?”

“Meet the Terror of the Skies? Your kickass mom, a real legend of a dragon?” Smolder asked. “Um… yes! How dumb do you think I am if I’d want to pass up on such an opportunity? Catch me, I think I’m going to faint…”

Spike laughed to himself at Smolder’s obvious fangirling. Huh, so you learned something new every day. Who knew she was such a fan of his mom? Well, she was awesome in that regard Spike supposed.

Garble, Spyro thought with a groan. He could not sink to his least favorite dragon’s level again, not after that public display, Even if he did admit to himself that it was fairly cathartic to send him running for the hills. But still, it was in no way a dragon should ever act, at least if one wanted to impart good lessons towards his son.

He was supposed to be above such acts of pettiness and yet he there he went sinking down to the very same levels Garble often stooped to. Apparently, Spike had picked up on the tension with him on the way back and had asked if anything was alright. A few quick reassurances that everything was fine and Spike said no more on the subject. But everything was definitely, almost certainly not fine at all.

Gods above, he was such an idiot of possibly cataclysmic proportions. Yeah, there was no greater feeling in the world than becoming a father, but with it came its own set of hurdles.

Nonetheless, there was really only one course of action Spyro knew he could and for that matter should take at this point. And that was, he had to make amends. He hated Garble, yes, but no reason for his own personal prejudices to affect his son’s life. He had spotted the disappointed glance Smolder had sent him. A broken pedestal, it had seemed. Apparently, she had thought the legendary Spyro above such things. But how? It wouldn't be as simple as apologizing to Garble could it, the two had hated each other equally since birth. But right now it seemed that it was the only possible recourse of action. Still… Nestor had always said to give others the benefit of the doubt, and maybe Garble wasn’t that bad of a dragon. He just needed a friend. Yeah, that was it!

Nestor’s philosophies had always worked out for him well enough, mostly. In any case, it couldn’t hurt for Spyro to at least try to work out the issues between him and Garble. Apologize, and hope the worst-case scenario doesn't come to pass. The worst-case scenario, of course, being Smolder never wanting to even be near his son ever again. He laughed bitterly at the irony. An hour or so ago he had been trying to keep the two apart and now he wanted them to be friends at the very least.

The whole idea sounded simple enough on paper really, but Spyro’s past prejudices and his own inner pessimist seemed to keep him from going through with the act really. Simply put, he was afraid, as much as Spyro loathed to admit it. He was too afraid to own up to a mistake he’d made and had justified it at the time as showing to his son you should never be afraid of anyone. ...Oh, this was going to bite him in the ass, he just knew it. He hoped Spike didn’t get any ideas about going after his parent’s killers now. The only reason Spyro had gone after gnorcs at his age, aside from being young and foolish was that he was simply the only one around at times to stop Gnasty and his band. His small size saw to that. 

So there Spyro was, finding himself gliding over the swamplands that made up the Beast Tamers realm and flying down in the boggy wetlands and deep jungles below him. The sweltering heat brought up flies, which he simply swatted out of the air with his tail.

His own monumental lapses in judgment aside, Spyro liked coming here on a normal day. Always something going on and the dragons here were friendly enough. Sadly, today was not a normal day. 

And as it happened when he met up with Garble again, the two once again found themselves exchanging punches and kicks as they wallowed in the mud. This was totally Garble’s fault by the way. Spyro faltering in his apology had nothing to do with it. So caught up in their frenzy were they, that they failed to notice a massive shape rising out of the water. Spyro’s eyes widened as a massive reptile of rock and earth rose up out of the swamp waters.

“Cragadile!” he thought before grabbing Garble by the arm and running. Spyro sucked in a breath and let out a blast of pure frost and ice freezing the rock creature solid before it broke out. And then it gave chase. 

Eventually, the two managed to delve deeper into the swamps, Spyro managing to lose the massive beast.

“...You idiot, we’re dragons, we should have stood and fought that thing to the bitter end!” Garble snapped. 

“And that would have worked how…?” Spyro asked. “You know better than anyone its almost impossible to even damage cragadiles with flame!”

“I’m still a dragon, and running doesn’t sit right with me…” Garble muttered.

“...Yeah, well, you’re alive aren’t you?” Spyro asked.

“For however how long… Cragadiles never give up the hunt!” Garble said. “That’s the second thing we know about them. ...In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t shown up again…”

“Yeah?” Spyro panted out. “Well… well, maybe we got lucky this time…” 

“Doubt it short stack,” Garble muttered. “I doubt it so very much…”

He was proven right when the sound of trees crashing echoed through the swamps. There it came again, snarling and snapping at the twosome. Spyro and Garble ran for it, this time having to dodge flaming geysers of ignited swamp gases. Foxfire, the locals called it. No matter the name, the geysers made it that much harder to outrun the massive beast.

“...Oh, I cannot believe I’m going to die like this,” Garble muttered. “My sister would be so ashamed of me, going out like a wimp instead of a boss and dying alongside you!”

“...Yeah, well trust me it’s no pleasure for me either!” Spyro said before he got an idea upon watching the geysers. The wheels began to turn in his mind.

“...Uh, just so you know, because we’re about to die and all, I… I’m going to reveal to you a secret I’ve never told anyone else…” Garble whispered.

“Uh, dude, it’s not that you love me or anything? Because seriously, I do not swing that way. I’m flattered if you want to jump my bones and all but…”

“NO!” Garble snapped bashing him atop the head. “You doofus! Where and why did your brain go there of all places? You’re such a dumbass… Okay, truth be told, I was always… jealous of you I suppose?”

That did it, and Spyro screeched to a halt in spite of himself and the danger of one very pissed off cragadile.

“...Wait, what? J-Jealous, of me?” Spyro stammered out. “...I… Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Should you be so surprised?” Garble asked. “I grew up here, in nowheresville with only the local idiots to be friends with, while you grew up with the oh so cultured artisans! You became a friggin’ hero man, multiple times over while I have to work in a dead end job with a pack of morons as my coworkers!”

“Talk later, defeat cragadile now!” Spyro said, his throat glowing orange. The sign of an oncoming flame of fury. 

“...And how are we supposed to do that? Man, you are such an idiot, like I always said! I’m going to die before I recited any of that poetry I practiced to myself…” Garble whispered.

“Wait… what? Oh, never mind! Just on my mark. On three! Ready your flames, man!”

Garble shrugged. “Oh well, the enemy at the gates and all that… Blood pumping, Et cetera...” he muttered before on cue, he breathed out a torrent of flame. Spyro soon followed. And then the swamp gases ignited exactly as he’d planned. The cragadile was sent skywards before Spyro flash froze it with his ice breath and when it came back down it shattered like glass.

“...Dude. Okay, I take everything back. You are awesome…” Garble said before hugging tightly.

“...Yay. Okay, no hugs please? ...Please?” 

“...Just one favor, okay? Just do me one favor, alright?” Garble pleaded and Spyro let out a deep sigh as he was released. 

“...Name it.”

And so, later that evening Smolder and Spike were treated to one very weird sight. Both Spyro and Garble wearing little hats, Spyro on bongos of all things as Garble recited this.

“Eggs, come. Burst into that light. Break through shells that bind.
Break free, explore. Stuck! ...Between rock and... hard place.
Freedom, come! Don't be shy! Look those others in the eye!
Stake your claim! Don't stop! Just do! Be the one and only... you!”

“...You know Gar-Gar, I think I speak for all of us when I ask… What? Just simply… what?”

Garble could only smirk. “...If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

“...My brother’s such a moron.”
> 6: Old Wounds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleep did not come easy for Spyro that night. Once again, he found himself in that unfamiliar pit. Smoke clouded his vision, and toxic gases began to stain his eyes as lava bubbled and broiled all around him. 

“This place again…?” Spyro muttered to himself as the dragon found himself wandering over rocks, flying over lava pools when necessary. This place reminded him far too much of those Skelos Badlands back in Avalar, except much worse. He was half expecting a raptor to leap out of the shadows at any moment, ready to clamp its jaws down on him and end his life. Of course, he knew such a thing was… impossible, right? “After all, this is just a dream, even if it’s a very good one. Remind me to A, stop eating those tuna sandwiches before bed, and B, have another little chat with the Dream Weavers about what exactly the types of dreams they’re giving me. Okay, I get it Lateef, the prank wasn’t very funny. Har har, joke’s over.”

Spyro shuddered, seems those Dream Weavers could really hold a grudge. Then again, he noted, they claimed to have no knowledge of what exactly was going on. So either that meant they were lying, or something really strange was going on. Spyro by now was betting on the latter.

“Okay, seriously, mister dark and scary voice, this is usually when you show up about now and try to be all dark and mysterious. So where are you?”

Spyro had evidently never learned of the phrase about speaking of the devil and he shall appear before you. “Ask… and you shall receive young Spyro…” that same deep and gravelly voice from before remarked as behind Spyro, the lave bubbled and broiled. A massive shape began to rise out of the lava, the toxic fumes becoming ever more prevalent. “Well well well, so glad you could join me for another conversion, Spyro. How’s the kid?”

“Don’t you touch him…” Spyro snarled as his scales began to glow a sharp purple charging up his superflame. The shape in the darkness reared back his head and laughed. 

“Relax, Spyro,” the dark dragon remarked. “I would never touch your young hatchling.”

“Fat chance! If you’re going to say even you have standards, shove it up your-”

“Ah ah, language!” the dark dragon replied wagging his claw. “It seems we share other qualities besides that of our color. We’re protective of our own really. I have to admire that really.” he remarked almost seeming to smirk. 

“Who are you anyways? And how do you know my name?” Spyro whispered as the shape towered above his own. 

“You don’t remember me?” the misty black dragon asked holding a claw to his chest.  “I’m hurt. We’ve been tied together since time immemorial. It’s taken a bit, I admit, to even claw my way back to the surface so I can… er, speak to you directly but for you not to even remember who I am is just plain insulting! Agh, never mind. Time for you to wake up dear Spyro, we’ll continue this conversation later…”

With that, he snapped his fingers and Spyro awoke in his bedroom panting and sweating hard. He looked towards the now early morning sun and sighed in relief, the world was still there. He then looked towards Cynder and smiled as she snoozed softly, unaware of her mate’s troubles.

“So perfect…” Spyro thought to himself as he slipped back down into her embrace. An hour or so passed, and finally, Spyro managed to drag himself out of bed heading for the kitchen. He needed his coffee before he could face the day, and judging from the fact that Cynder was right behind him she thought the same.

“...You alright?” Cynder asked looking rather concerned. “Rough sleep?”

“...Yeah, guess you could say that.” Spyro mumbled to himself taking a bite out of some toast.

“It’s that dream again, isn’t it?” Cynder asked. She’d known Spyro long enough to know exactly what he was thinking at any given time. “You had it again didn’t you? You need to talk to the Drea-”

“...The Weavers? I have, and they deny any knowledge of any of this. At first, I thought they were screwing with me, but now… I’m beginning to wonder.” Spyro trailed off before taking a sip of his coffee. His cup said something about him being the world’s best dad, a gift from Nestor. 

“Still, it would probably a good idea to have another little chat with them, if you were to ask me,” Cynder remarked. “I just don’t want you waking up again due to this… well, whatever it is.”

Around her waist was a frilly pink apron reading: ‘Kiss the Cook’. It was really rather cutesy, and quite girly and definitely not normally something Cynder would be caught dead wearing. But it had been a gift from both Elora and Bianca, so she accepted it without question. It also probably helped that Spyro liked it. Probably. Although that didn’t stop her from wanting to add: ‘and die’ in red stitching at times. She made a mental note about asking Sheila how to sew one day.

“Yeah, I know…” Spyro muttered. “I’ve been trying to fight this dream off by myself, let it pass. If I have it again, I’ll have another talk with the Weavers. Deal?”

“Deal,” Cynder agreed with a small nod. “...Nestor doesn’t know yet, does he?”

“About what? Nestor doesn’t know about a lot of things. I haven’t even had the heart to tell him that you’re infertile and can’t give him the grandchildren he so desperately wants.” 

Cynder’s wings drooped and Spyro winced. “...Sorry. Hey, at least he has Spike to spoil, right? And in that same vein, you have him to care for right?”

“Yeah…” Cynder murmured before chuckling. “It’s funny really. Neither of us were expecting for him to worm his way inside our hearts, or to even stumble across him in the first place really. But look at what’s gone and happened.”

“Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?” Spyro remarked and Cynder nodded in turn.

“Yeah, life’s exactly like that. For every right hook it likes to throw you, it then throws you something in apology.” Cynder smiled before wrapping her arms around her mate and giving him a brief but passionate kiss. A gag of disgust came from behind them, and they saw Spike.

“Eww mom, do you and dad mind not doing that in public?” Spike asked. “Pretty sure it’s harmful to minors here!”

“...You sure it’s not something you’d like to do with Smolder?” Spyro teased with Cynder laughing a little. 

“I mean, he’s right. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to hop aboard the smooch train with her…?” she joined in as Spike blushed a bright red.

“O-Oh s-shut up!” Spike stammered out before walking off. Later that day as the sun blazed high in the sky he found himself alongside his dad in some sheep fields near the Glimmer Mines in Summer Forest. A soft cool breeze blew through the trees, and the sounds of pickaxes hitting gem in rhythmic motion could be heard echoing up from the mines. Sheep grazed contentedly, unaware that they were being stalked. The grass ruffled, and some sheep looked up in a hint of fear. They soon returned to their grazing before a purple shape darted out of the tall grasses pinning one of them to the ground before torching two more.

“...Smells like victory,” Spyro chuckled standing tall and proud over his kill. “...Oh by Lord Torch’s flames, that sounds so idiotic…” 

“...Yeah, it sorta does dad,” Spike deadpanned. “You sound like a real dork.”

“Aww, you wound me!” Spyro chirped faking being shot. Next to him, Sparx did a little facepalming motion at his friend’s actions. For a small little gold dragonfly, he could be remarkably expressive. “Right in the heart, see? You wound your old man!”

“So what are we doing out here, aside from getting those poor sheep to advocate for abuse by dragons?” Spike deadpanned. “Seriously, you’d think by now they’d have raised their paws in protest, complete with signs and all that.”

“Well, it’s teaching you a few things really,” Spyro remarked. “Taking down sheep? In my honest to Torch given opinion, it’s one of the most crucial skills a dragon could and should learn!”

“...Right, mom did tell me you used to bully sheep when you were about my age…” Spike remarked before running the word over his mouth again. Mom, it sounded so strange really. It was a good kind of strange in his opinion but it was still something he was going to have to get used to. He sighed softly to himself, Sp-No, his dad had said they weren’t trying to replace his birth parents, that his parents were part of their family now as well. So what was with him, Spike had to ask himself. Was he being selfish, did he just want his original parents back and to sideline Spyro and Cynder? Goddess, he was being selfish, Spike realized. His father would probably be so ashamed of him if he knew.

“You alright kid?” Spyro suddenly spoke up breaking Spike out of his musings. “You’re being awfully quiet for a change. I admit silence is golden when it comes to going after sheep but with you… it feels wrong not hearing you speak. Snarky your comments may be, it does worry me when you’re not… y’know, making them.”

“...Anyone ever tell you that you’re a babbler?” Spike deadpanned. “Seriously, you are dad. Oh look, there they go!” he shouted pointing to the sheep who were currently making a break for it.

“Well, they won’t be for long!” Spyro shouted readying himself to charge after them. “On three, we charge after them! 1, 2, 3! Here we go!”

Letting out a battle cry for no obvious reason, Spyro ran after the sheep with Spike soon to follow. Using their respective flames, they torched both the grass beneath and gave the sheep a serious case of hotfoot. Spyro’s breath was its normal orange-red color, while Spike’s was a nice green shade. Chasing the sheep into a small wooded area, they finally caught up with the fodder and took them down in swift motions. 

Spike let out a whoop of triumph as he dug into his prize. His earlier worries were, for the moment at least, forgotten. “...You know, I’m beginning to see the appeal of this. Gets your adrenaline pumping. Quite a rush!”

“Oh, you think this is fun? I really have to take you to one of the speedways someday soon,” Spyro commented. “Then we can see how fast you really are. Cool fire breath, by the way, I’m almost jealous! Can you do it again?” he asked sitting himself down and wagging his tail like a puppy begging for a treat. 

Spike facepalmed. His father could be such a child at times really. He loved him, sure, but he did freely acknowledge his father could be quite the child when he really put his mind to it.

Oh well, Spike thought to himself. It was really rather endearing at times, knowing his father was such a dork. “Oh, so you want me to do that again?” Spike asked. “Well, here we go then!”

He tilted his head skywards, and let out a brief little spurt of flame into a tree, knocking down an apple into his mouth.

“Whoa, dude! You’re quite the little sharpshooter!” Hunter said as he slid down part of the nearby castle, before leaping into the air and landing on his feet next to them. “You’re going to make me jealous in a few years I suspect!”

“Hey Hunts,” Spyro said with a cheery smile upon seeing his old friend before noticing the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Hunter leaned in close to whisper something in his ear, most of the words going unheard. But sadly, one didn’t. It stuck out like a sore thumb. Gnorcs. His blood going to a boil, Spike rocketed off into the distance. Never again, Spike said to himself. Never again would he allow Gnorcs to hurt another kid as they hurt him.

“Kid!” Hunter shouted reaching out with his paw in a desperate motion.

“Spike!” Spyro shouted in fear.

Hunter turned to Spyro. “Better go after him, before he gets himself into more trouble than he can handle,” the cheetah told him. “I’ll catch up, soon as I alert the guard okay?”

“Got it,” Spyro said tossing his friend a salute before his eyes narrowed as he took to the skies after his son. “...Alright then. Let’s do this.”

“I’ll track ‘em down, they don’t call me Hunter for nothing!” Hunter proclaimed. “You just go after your son, okay Spyro?”

“I swear,” Spyro thought to himself as his wings flapped frantically. “If the gnorcs don’t kill him, I will. What were you thinking kiddo?”

He didn’t even have to answer his own question, as he already knew the answer to that. 

He had long been afraid of this happening really. Spyro had been warned by both Nestor and Hunter of this and he agreed. They said that even hearing of a single gnorc patrol being in the area would trigger a response of some sort from Spike. Spyro always hated it when they were right, but right now his chief most concern was towards his son. Spike was young, and yes while he had been around his age when he faced Gnasty, Spyro had only done it because nobody else could. He didn’t have a choice back then. Spike did. And he also knew that in Spike’s state of mind he could do something both very stupid and very dangerous. 

Spyro swore quietly under his breath. He knew being a parent was not going to be an easy task by any means, but he wanted to keep his son as safe as possible. Spike, Spyro sighed to himself. In Spyro’s mind, his son shouldn’t have been having to deal with the same things he did when he was his age. It just wasn’t right for a child to take up adult responsibilities, especially when they had a choice. 

Yes, Spyro knew he had no room to talk but he had what Cynder had labeled a ‘chronic hero syndrome’ and couldn’t sit down while evil was afoot. It was one of the many things that the dragoness liked about him. Spike should have had to worry about things like girls, and stuff like that. Not about having to deal with the worst the dragon realms had to throw at him. 

Then again, Spyro mused to himself, a child of Spike’s age shouldn’t have had to deal with losing his parents at such a young age either and yet look what had happened. He growled to himself, when he finally passed on he and Tiamat were going to be having a few words perhaps needless to say. The Queen of Chaos seemed to love pulling stunts like this towards her children.







Spike found himself running for his life, as Gnorcs with goo cannons chased him through a dark forest, where the trees seemed to grow that little too close together and seemed to be closing in on him. The evening sun began to fall, casting a fiery orange glow over the forest like a raging wildfire. Spike ran as fast as his little paws could carry him, occasionally turning back to fire a blast of green flames at his pursuers. But they had come prepared, wearing armor glistening with silver drakonstone, forged in the finest of mines and smelted by the finest gnorc hands. 

Finally, Spike found himself cornered, his back up against a pile of boulders and ruined stone walls. He took in a deep breath before expelling it, a wall of flames shooting up between him and the patrol.

He broke into a sprint once again before his eyes widened as a truly massive gnorc came crashing out of the treeline, ax in hand. He swung, and Spike barely dodged the ax impacting a tree. As its owner struggled to pull it out, he made a break for it. He delved deeper into the forest running as fast as he could. Then a blob of acidic goo nearly hit him, steaming and hissing as it ate away at some shrubbery. 

“...I should have listened…” Spike thought to himself. “Instead… Look at me, running for my life all because I got too caught up in my own quest to avenge my parents I didn’t stop to think about whether I should go after these guys. I mean, they’re probably not even the same gnorcs!” 

He could see it now, presuming he ever got out of this at all. His father’s stern, disapproving face. He shuddered at Cynder’s expression, not even wanting to think on it. He knew he deserved whatever punishment they intended to give him. Mind you, that presumed he got out of this one at all.

“Oh look, a little dragon all alone!” one of the gnorcs cackled as they closed in. “Hey, wait, I know this one! Isn’t this the one we’ve been hearing about, the one that got rescued by Spyro and Cynder!”

“You know? I think it is!” another laughed. “A fat lot of good he’s doing them, challenging us! He’s such a little shrimp! My god, the two must be so ashamed of him!”

“Eh, there’s not much to be ashamed about,” the first put in. “He’s an idiot. Hell, I think we’re going them both a favor, killing him so that they won’t even have to look at this-”

“Now that’s enough of that!” a voice boomed through the forest as the gnorcs’ eyes widened in abject fear. A tall figure stepped out of the treeline bearing an amberish grey coat and a turquoise mane, almost like a lion’s. Said mane was now alight with pure flames, and the creature’s eyes glowed an etherial sharp white. Spike was caught between two emotions, fear and wonder. “I’d say you harassed this young one quite enough. Now leave, before I force you out!” the creature said stamping her hoof. The gnorcs promptly complied.

As they scampered off, the tall pony dragon crossbreed walked over to Spike, kneeling down to his level and dispelling her flames. “Shh… Shh… It’s okay, I won’t harm you young Spike. I’ll keep you safe, at least until your dad shows up. Come, my village awaits.”

“...You know my dad?” Spike asked. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could trust this creature. But then again, she had just saved him for no obvious reason. So surely she couldn’t have been a villain, right? 

“Well, not personally, no. But I do know of him by reputation. I owe his father, and your grandfather a great debt, really,” the creature said as they strode into a small village where house met tree. Nature seemed to be in perfect harmony with civilization as smaller versions of the mare(?) chattered quite animatedly with each other. Spike vaguely remembered seeing a few creatures like these back at the Festival. “If he hadn’t found me when he did, my village would have probably stayed silent for many more years.”

“...Stayed silent? What do you mean, and who are you?” Spike asked.

“You may call me Rain Shine,” the kirin introduced herself before her tone turned sorrowful, regretful looking every part of her years. “Years ago, a foolish mistake was made you must understand. I forced my people, the kirin, into a stream to quell our emotions only not realizing I may have struck them with even greater torture. Can you imagine, young Spike, never having the ability to feel anything again? To not be able to even speak? To want to express your thoughts but because of your own leader’s foolishness it is impossible to even do so?”

“...No…” Spike whispered.

“Pray you never know this feeling, young one. Pray you never do. Nestor and his uncle Boldar helped my people out of this hell of my own making. They found a cure for the stream, and for that…” Rain Shine whispered fighting back a tear. “Well, enough of that hmm? You look like you could use something to eat. Let us fix that.”

Meanwhile, Spyro flew rapidly over the forests of the ever colorful Autumn Plains. Interestingly in Avalar, some spell cast long ago created these freaks of nature. Lands always stuck in one season or another, never changing even as the year went by. This was why places such as the Peace Keepers realm never got rain and Dragon Shores always seemed to be a paradise while the Badlands stayed as a hell of sorts. All because of the spells cast in what Spyro had heard was a great war between dark and light long ago. A great dragon, whose name had been lost to time led a crusade against the world, and the forces of good fought back. Lives were changed by this very battle, and even one of the great Alicorns of legend had been corrupted and sent to the stars.

But that was then, and this was now. As Hunter dashed through the trees, leaping from limb to limb Spyro caught a faint green glimpse below and he dived. His throat glowed orange before he covered a gnorc encampment with a torrent of fire. The gnorcs fled, and several were put down by shots from Hunter. Spyro landed in front of the regiment commander and shoved him up against a tree claws wrapped firmly around his throat.

“Tell me.” Spyro growled. “Tell me where my son is.”

“I’d listen to him if I was you…” Hunter said as he drew back his bow. “His patience is pretty then. Be lucky it’s my best bud you got and not his mate. You wouldn’t even be alive right now if that was the case. Oh Spyro, should I send Sparx out to go find Cynder, or…”

The gnorc’s eyes widened in fear. “Alright, alright, I’ll talk! Just please, for god’s sake, don’t call up that bit-”

He was soundly sent through the tree by a headbutt from Spyro. “Please refrain from insulting my mate, if you know what’s good for you…” the purple dragon growled out. “Now I’ll ask only one more time. Where is my son?”

“Some crazy ass lady took him, I didn’t catch much of a glimpse. She was tall, I know that much! And she looked like she was about to burst into flame! That’s all I know, I swear!” the gnorc pleaded. “That’s everything!”

“Is it?” Spyro asked with a small growl as he raised his claw ready to strike. 

“I swear, that’s all I know! I swear! Scout’s honor!”

Spyro with a glare sent the creature running. “...Jeez, you really have changed,” Hunter observed. “And I thought you hated gnorcs before. But now? Man, you looked ready to rip him open…”

“When my son is involved, I’ll do whatever the hell I have to okay Hunter?” Spyro whispered before his wings drooped. “Torch above… He could be anywhere!”

“Well, not anywhere. I mean, we sorta have a description to go on. Wrapped in flames, that doesn’t describe a lot of beings does it?”

“No… Not really,” Spyro replied not really paying attention truth be told. “...Torch above, I’m such a terrible father.”

“I think you’re doing fine, all things considered,” Hunter observed. “You’re a little new at this, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes along the way. But the look in your eyes right then and there when you were about to rip that gnorc open? That was love, pure fatherly love. No other way of describing it.”

“...I suppose. It’s just, well… If I were better at this I would have stopped Spike from going off in the first place and-”

“Stop right there Spyro, and just shut up and listen. Nestor and I told you this was likely to happen, both of us,” Hunter stated firmly as he looked his friend dead in the eye. “We couldn’t keep avoiding the issue forever, Spike was bound to do this. Now, are you going to sit wallowing in self-pity, or are you going to find your son?”

“...Let’s go.”

“Good, there’s the Spyro I know!” Hunter smiled.

“Okay, now the flames… As you said, there can’t be many creatures who fit that descriptor. Sounds a bit like a Nirik, and we are near their village so…” Spyro mused to himself before he broke off into a run. He sighed in relief, the kirin were close cousins to the dragons and Nestor spoke of them often. “He’s safe, he’s safe. It was probably Fern Flare or someone who picked him up. Maybe Autumn, she has a soft spot for kids from what little I’ve seen of her. Flame said she watched his nephew once.”

Back at the Kirin Village, as Spike chowed down on some lamb chops he sat with Rain. The leader of the kirins had told two of her villagers to be on the lookout for more gnorcs or Spyro himself. “...Torch above, I’m such an idiot. Went after those monsters even when I was explicitly warned not to, again and again. All because I felt the need to…” Spike trailed off.

“Your parents right?” Rain Shine asked. “I heard what happened. Sent shockwaves through Avalar, the Scale Hunters getting this bold.”

“Torch above, my dad’s going to kill me… All because I let my anger take control and-”

Rain put a hoof over his mouth. “I know better than anyone what it’s like to let your emotions rule you. That anger you feel? It’s always within us, but it is our choice how we let it out. There’s a fine balance between your feelings ruling you, and controlling them. You’ll learn as you get older. Would your parents really want you to dishonor their memory like this, going after every last gnorc you hear about?”

“...No…” Spike whispered.

“I understand the need for revenge, it’s only proper in your situation,” Rain said. “But how you choose to use that emotion and channel it is another matter. You can honor your parent's memories in other ways, correct? Is there not a breed of dragons who defends the realms?”

“The Peace Keepers, yeah…” Spike replied his eyes widening in realization.

“Maybe they’re for you, maybe they’re not. I cannot know,” Rain Shine said. “But I do know this, you’re a young drake. Goodness knows every life should be treasured, especially those of the next generation. We entrust them not to repeat our generation’s mistakes. To carry our hopes and dreams with us, do what we could not in our lifetimes.”

“...That… that seems like a heavy burden…” Spike said. 

“I apologize. It is not one you should have to worry about right now,” Rain replied looking ashamed of herself. “Just something to keep in mind for the future okay? Right now, enjoy life. This is the greatest part of it, being young. It’s not something that’ll ever come around again. Be happy, be sad, be a bit of an idiot -if you excuse the term- and most of all? Enjoy life, be loved and love those who love you back.”

“...That’s… That’s just the thing, earlier today… well,” Spike said. “I… I still feel at times as if I only want my original parents, not Spyro and Cynder. Am I being selfish?”

“No, it is only natural,” Rain Shine said. “Treasure their memories, never forget them. Both of them made you who you are today. I… I’m sorry, I seem to be getting poetic now.”

“No, no,” Spike said wiping away his tears through his laughter. “It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine. Thank you, Rain.”

Then he was brought into a tight hug by a familiar purple and gold form whispering thank yous to the gods. Rain Shine quietly took her leave from the area, knowing this was a moment between father and son. “I’m… I’m sorry, Dad…” Spike whispered. “I… I just wanted to be brave, like you.”

“Being brave doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble,” Spyro said. “I'm very disappointed in you. You deliberately disobeyed me. I understand you wanted to be like me, I do. But I’m only brave when I have to be. I was terrified today, you understand?”

“But I thought nothing scared you…” Spike asked looking up at his father.

“Something did today, the thought that I might lose you,” Spyro replied and at this Spike broke out into sobs and he simply wrapped a wing around his son. “I won’t sugarcoat it, your punishment when we get back is probably going to be a big one.”

“It’s okay dad,” Spike said. “After nearly getting killed, I don’t mind.”

“I love you kid, you know that right?” Spyro asked.

“And I love you dad.”

Rain Shine watched with a small smile before she headed back into her village. “So, that’s your son huh Nestor?” she asked as the green dragon landed next to her. He’d seen the chaos from a nearby castle he had helped in building and had rushed to help. “I think he makes a great father.”

“Yeah, that he does…” Nestor smiled. 

“I never did thank you, all those years ago. What you and Autumn, and Boldar did for us. You gave us back our character, our identities after I so foolishly took it away,” Rain said not meeting his eyes. Nestor laid a hand on her shoulder, another tilting her head upwards so that he could meet her eyes.

“You did, at the time, what you thought was best. A leader cannot ask to do anything more but to protect her people. In time, the wounds will heal. The memories will remain, as they do but the wounds will heal.”

“...I hope so. I do hope so. I made a grave mistake, and now I wonder if the silent judgment I face from my people is worth it.” Rain wondered.

“Who’s to say really?” Nestor asked. “But if you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

“That I do.”
> 7: Atlantis of the Sands
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside of the dragon realms, there were other kingdoms. One such world was a place in between Saddle Arabia and Peace Keepers, a mix of scorching sands and deep jungles. Great palaces peeked out from the sands and the towering dunes, built by dynasties that had been around since possibly time immemorial. Great treasures, diamonds in the rough if you will as Elora had once described them. Paradises built for sultans and sorcerers as their own personal playgrounds.

Of course, these places were rarely accessible if you were not a friend of the family. The area designated as ‘Shady Oasis’, hidden deep in the scorching dunes and behind howling winds was an exception. It had always been open to visitors from far off lands, trading being its central way of making itself a wealthy kingdom. However, reaching there didn’t come without some difficulty. Flying there was usually folly, given the long distances you had to traverse to even find the locale. And braving the deserts was next to insanity. Meaning the best way to travel to these locations was via a portal, the most commonly used inside a castle at Autumn Plains. 

Spike found himself inside one such palace, alongside Ember and Elora. Ember, for her part, had arrived at the palace for her own personal reasons figuring she could trade some gems for some very exclusive fabric. She’d opted to take Spike along as a little field trip, let him experience some culture. Cynder had agreed to this, under one proviso. You see, after Spike’s little misadventure with a few Scale Hunters a week or so back, Cynder being who she was decided he needed a chaperone. So, this was why Elora had opted to go having been meaning to pay the hippos of Shady Oasis a visit anyways. Plus, it gave her a chance to actually spend time with Spyro’s adoptive son which was an additional bonus.

“...Ugh,” Spike grumbled having to hold back his lunch from earlier that day, which threatened to make a return visit. “...Did I forget to mention how I hated portal travel? Like seriously, every damn time…”

“Eh, you get used to it,” Ember shrugged, the pink dragoness giving him a soft reassuring smile. She fiddled with her necklace, a heart-shaped ruby lined with gold. “...Hey, you think it’s about time I change this thing out? It’s like… so last season.”

“Okay, A, everyone’s been saying I’ll get used to it. Ironically, I never have. Surprise surprise!” Spike deadpanned. “And B, I… I personally think you look great with the necklace. I know nothing about fashion, I admit, but as a dragon, I’d like to think I do have an eye for jewelry,” he commented with a little smug smile. “And that eye right now? Telling me you should keep it.”

“Wow, don’t let all that hot air go to your head,” Elora teased giving Spike a gentle noogie. “But Emms? Kid’s right. You look just fine. Don’t worry about it too much okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ember muttered as very distinctive flute music played in the background, and calls came up from the marketplace. Traders from near and far begged those arriving to part with their hard-earned bits and gems. “Hmm, wonder if I should get a henna tattoo or something… I want to come back with just a feeling of… culture. Not just buy some fabrics, I want to get something for myself.”

“...Are you always this concerned about fashion?” Elora asked raising an eyebrow. A long argument between the two, a playful teasing that had been going on since they first met. “You know, I’ve never met a dragon who was this much concerned about her personal appearance.”

“Says the faun who makes her attire out of leaves, you have no room to talk hun,” Ember teased poking her in the chest with a claw. “...By the way, I’ve never understood that.”

“You work with what you’ve got, what can I say?” Elora shrugged. “Not all of us are so blessed to be dealing with fine art and gems. Us fauns and satyrs? We work with what we’ve got!”

“And you do it well,” Ember smiled passing a tall white creature that seemed to be a cross between a bird and a horse, a peacock following behind her. “Okay now see that? That’s inspiration right there! A peacock! I mean, look at them! They have got something to flaunt! Oh, I know what my next design will be!”

“And I bet you’re going to use your husband as your mannequin, am I right?” Elora teased before she noticed something. “...Okay, where’s Spike?”

“Sorry, sorry!” the young drake said rapidly as he ran back up, flipping a coin towards a nearby vendor. He was now dressed in traditional attire, a loose shirt ala Aladdin and a fez. “Felt I had to look the part while I was here, right?”

“You look adorable,” Ember smiled as she began haggling with a nearby vendor over some fabrics. “What do you think? Purple or blue, or maybe a bit of red…”

Elora facepalmed. “...You’ll have to forgive her Spike. When she gets ideas in her head…”

“Yeah, I know,” Spike replied with a dismissive little wave. “She was like this back at the Festival a week or so ago. Used me as her own personal dress-up doll. I, of course, was having none of it!”

“...Yeah, that sounds like her.” Elora said with a small chuckle.

“Funny thing,” Ember said, the pink dragoness turning back to look at Spike. “You didn’t seem to be complaining when I made you look like a little Prince… Which is of course, what you are!”

“Oh, were you now…?” Elora said turning back to look at Spike who could only laugh nervously. 

Ember smirked before going back to her haggling with the vendor. “Okay, okay! 60%, or you get nothing!”

Said vendor, of course, was having none of it. “60% of your sales? Or mine? Like… Like, if it’s 60% of your sales, that’s piddling! 80% or no deal!”

“Exxxxxxcccccueeeeeeessseee me?” Ember said rearing up and placing a hand onto her chest in shock. “That’s highway robbery!”

“That’s just business sweetheart,” the vendor smirked. “Now, 80% or you get absolutely nothing!”

“70%!” Ember fired back and soon it practically became a question of who could out haggle the other, and how loud this matchup would get.

“60-40!”

“40-60!”

“50-50!”

“30-70!”

“40-60!”

“30-70! Now that’s my final offer for you young dragoness, take it or leave it!” the vendor shouted. “You need to get something out of this whole debacle.”

“Oh, I’m taking it indeed,” Ember smirked slamming a bag of gems in front of the vendor’s face. The little gems hanging off her horns jingled as she shook her head in what looked to be pity. “Oh, you are so totally not Moneybags. No good business sense, really…” she commented with a little grin of triumph. It took a few moments for the vendor to realize he’d been out swindled.

“...Wait, what? How did this happen…?” he asked even as he began handing over his wares. “Dammit… I really hate dragons.”

With her newfound wares in hand, Ember practically skipped off still carrying that little triumphant smirk. 

“...By Tiamat’s wings…” Spike whispered. “She is good….”

“And doesn’t she know it,” Elora said with a little shrug. “Nothing gets between her when she wants something. Well, aside from Cynder but well… love’s a bitter thing. Ugly really.”

“Didn’t dad mention you used to like him, like ‘like-like’ him?” Spike asked as they continued their little walk through the palace. “...Sorry, is that like a private question or something?”

“No, no it’s fine. He was sorta cute when he was your age, but it never would have worked really. We tried to make it work, dated on and off for a few weeks but nothing came of it really,” Elora said. “In the end, it all came down to one thing really. Me and your dad, we’re just too different. Me, I wanted to lead Avalar, and Spyro just wanted to have adventures. Not just that, actually. I mean, look at me. Our relationship alone would violate so many laws of nature, and can you imagine the children? I mean, a faun/dragon kid? What would that even look like?” she laughed.

“...I hesitate to imagine,” Spike remarked. “...Err, sorry. No offense intended. They probably would have been a little cute or maybe a little freaky. I dunno.”

Elora bit back a giggle. “...Yeah, they probably would have been. Ah well, no sense reminiscing on what might have been eh? So, how goes things between you, Spyro and Cynder? Are things working out… okay? I heard there was a bit of trouble a few days ago…” she said sounding rather concerned.

“We’re… working on it,” Spike said. “I think we all sorta knew there were going to be a few bumps in the… er, road as it were.”

Elora frowned, Spike actually sounded a lot more mature than his fourteen years of age would have suggested. Of course, she wasn’t entirely surprised by this, given what he’d gone through. Still, it didn’t mean she had to like it. Personally, she would have liked it if Spike had been afforded to have spent more time as a kid, instead of having to grow up just a little quicker. It seemed to be a bit of a curse for that family really. Like father like son, really. Spyro himself had to grow up just that little bit quicker, being the hero of Avalar and all. And now that very same curse seemed to have been passed down to his adoptive son if under very different circumstances.

“You’ll get it together,” Elora said. “I don’t think any adoptive family could be expected to work out all of their issues in just a few short weeks.”

Truth be told, she was amazed they had lasted as long as they did without much issue. Elora didn’t want to sound mean about it, but teething troubles were always to be expected really with any new family.

She sighed to herself, smiling a little. All in all, though, she was happy Cynder finally had a child to call her own. She knew that although the dragoness hid it well enough, being infertile was something that she considered her own personal shame. Cynder had confided in her at times about this, including about how to break it to Nestor. In the end, they’d decided it would be best for the couple to do it in their own time. Still, as a woman it made her feel for Cynder, never being able to have a child of her own. She could only imagine what that felt like. Elora had been over the moon when she heard of Spike’s adoption. Not only would it give the poor kid quite possibly the most loving family she could think of, but it would also ease Cynder’s angst and personal issues. Oh, she hated to put it like that, Elora thought. Made Cynder sound… broken.

“...You alright Miss Elora?” Spike asked in a concerned tone, noticing how the faun had fallen strangely silent. 

“...Yeah, I’m okay. Just lost in thought for a moment there really,” Elora admitted. “Anyways, shall we? Plenty more of this place to show you yet, really. Oh, I really must show you the baths. Trust me, there’s nothing quite so relaxing to ease the muscles after a long day than one of those!”

“I’m game for that,” Spike said in reply. “I’ve had this ache in my back that absolutely refuses to go away. ...Maybe I’m not sleeping right or something… Like seriously…” he muttered.

“Ooooooh, did someone mention the Griffish Baths?” Ember said as she walked up with a very big grin on her face. “Been in one of them, the best experience of my life…” she sighed. “After that, I figured I could die happy. Almost melted into a puddle of goo...”

Then they heard shouting. “Oh, you think you can out swindle the greeeeeeeatttt and poweeerrrfullllll Trixie?” came a woman’s voice. “She must be getting gypped! Gypped, she tells you! I had that fabric on layaway!”

All three looked back to see a cornflower blue mare with this torn star-spangled cape getting up close and personal with the same vendor Ember had been with earlier. Said cape seemed to be made out of the same fabrics as the one Ember now held.

“...Um, yeah… I’d say we should get out of here, quickly and quietly…” Ember said with both Spike and Elora nodding. “Before she notices us and all…”

Quickly and quietly, they did just that. Now, a short thing on griffish baths.  Or a hamam if you prefer. The bath was a gently heated, lightly tiled room, but with a focus on the waters instead of a regular steam bath like a normal spa. Ember thought they were the greatest thing ever invented, aside from rubies of course. And Spike could now see the appeal, really, even as he lay down on a stone slab, twin ponies giving him a good oil massage. One was a light blue, the other a pinkish tone similar to Ember. “Oh, don’t you worry none,” the blue one said in this germane accent. “We have done this many times. In fact, it is our greatest desire to open up a bath similar to this in our hometown. But ponies have yet to see the appeal, it’s only out here have they caught on!”

“Well, between you and me… Aloe, is it? Between you and me Aloe,” Spike said. “Those ponies sound like fools. This is heaven on Avalar right here. Like, seriously. It is.”

“Glad someone appreciates this,” Aloe said before turning to her sister. “See, what did I tell you Lotus. I told you there would be gentlemen out here! Did I tell you not?”

“Yes, yes, that you did!” Lotus replied. “You were right, and I was wrong. This apparently is a successful venture…”

Spike tuned out the now squabbling sisters, Aloe saying: “You doubted me? You always doubt me!” and instead turned his attention over to Elora and Ember, being given massages of their own by the local hippos.

“Oh, you really didn’t hear about what happened yesterday? Apparently, somehow, a sheep got in the nursery. I blame Gavin of course, he does love his pranks,” Ember said shrugging.

“Might have had help from Hunter, I did see them laughing over a cup of coffee at the Green Dragon not too long ago in Dark Hollow,” Elora replied. “So, how’d things turn out actually? Did it get roasted?”

“Nah, Nana Goldenscales -you remember her, right?- herded it out before any trouble could be had,” Ember said. “Still a mystery how it got in, but I’m not going to wonder. I’m just glad hatchlings don’t have strong enough flames to do any damage. Otherwise, there probably wouldn’t have even been a nursery afterward!”

“...The poor sheep must have suffered a heart attack,” Elora laughed. “Poor little guy, they suffer enough abuse from the hands of you dragons as it is…” she teased.

“Well, least they all aren’t like Toasty and going up against dragonkind…” Ember smiled.

“Give ‘em time, there will be a sheep uprising sooner or later. All holding signs, chanting down with dragonkind! Just you watch!” 

“And let by someone named Sheep Creep!” Ember said, the two now howling with laughter. Spike failed to see what was so funny and only shrugged before going back to nibbling on his gem. 

“Dad has such weird friends…” Spike thought to himself before smiling as the realization hit him. “No, they’re not just dad’s friends… they’re mine as well…”

“Oh, by and by, I’ve been meaning to ask…” Ember said. “After this, want to go for a swim? Now that Ripto and his men have been given the boot by Spyro, I think they finally got around to fixing the plumbing ‘round here. Now the water’s not so… ugh, stagnant.”

“Actually, on that subject. Wasn’t there this rumor about some of the rivers and lakes in the Dragon Realms being filled with piranhas?” Elora asked. “I didn’t put too much stock into it but then again, I did see Hunter walking home nursing a bitten… Well, you don’t want to know where he got bit actually.”

Ember winced. “I think I can guess,” she muttered. “But those rumors are mostly just that, rumors. Nestor’s been leading a clean up of the rivers and such after Red -I think his name was?- got tossed out and exiled. Imagine, a Dragon Elder going up against the world and trying to conquer the lands! I think the last time that happened was 1,000 years ago with…”

Elora frowned, she had heard of traces of this ‘Dark Master’ as he was called still being found across the land. Apparently, he was the reason why there were things such as gnorcs and rhynocs at all. It worried her at times. If two powerful dragons could go completely insane what was stopping…? “Oh stop it, Elora, you’re beginning to sound like that mother of yours, always worrying about this and that!”

It still begged the question though, why was there so little information to be had on this Dark Master. Did dragons really want to forget about him that much? They cataloged and chronicled everything. Dark Hollow was evidence of that, given the entire realm was full of books. Elora had even heard legends of a mysterious dragon only known as the Chronicler, always tales told by her grandmother of course but all stories had to come from somewhere did they not? But she decided not to worry about it, at least for the time being. Looking towards Spike who was still nibbling away at his gem, she smiled. She was here to watch over their son, in this Atlantis of the Sands as they called it. And that was what she intended to do.







“So, Spike,” Ember said as the threesome continued their little walk around the castle grounds and surrounding bazaar. Gentle water trickled down from the nearby fountain and into a small river running all around the plaza. “You have any ideas, any… designs on what you’re planning to be later on in life?”

“Oh, stop it Ember,” Elora told her as she began ducking to avoid a hippo carrying around a basket full of hissing green snakes. Giving him a look, the hippo nervously shuffled off. “He’s still only fourteen! He shouldn’t be worrying about this sort of stuff just yet!”

“So what?” Ember sniffed. “I was only fourteen when I decided to become a fashion designer and look at how that turned out!”

“Well, Spike’s not you is he?” Elora said pointedly. “Let him make up his own mind in his own time okay?”

“I...I… I don’t know actually…” Spike answered. “I… I mean, I haven’t exactly been putting a whole lot of thought into it…”

“Well, you’ve got a few years yet, right?” Elora told him in a kind and quite reassuring tone. “Life shouldn’t be rushed, unlike what some of us seem to think,” she said glaring again at Ember.

“But… But I do admit,” Spike whispered pressing his fingers together nervously. “I probably should be thinking about this eventually…”

Was it that Kirin from the village responsible for this new train of thought? Rain Shine, he thought her name was? Maybe a little. Or maybe, Spike reasoned, he actually wanted to be of some use to the dragon kingdoms, live up to his adoptive parent’s famous legacies. The Hero of Avalar and the Terror of the Skies. “I mean, think about it,” Spike continued. “I’ve got to start pulling my weight around the household eventually. I love dad and all, but he can be a bit… bumbling I suppose?”

He then noticed Elora and Ember sharing a giggle. “What? What’s so funny?” Spike demanded as he crossed his arms in a huff.

“Oh, look at you!” Ember said. “Becoming all responsible and all that… It’s adorable really. Your mothers, both of them, would be proud of you… But really, Elora’s quite right. You mustn’t rush yourself. Plenty of things to do before you grow up. Go on, enjoy your childhood. Only comes around once really…”

“...I know, but…” Spike sighed. “It’s just… I want to do something around the dragon realms. Just… be useful, you know?”

“Well, they offer apprenticeships…” Ember said. “I suppose you could always follow your grandfather’s route and become a carpenter…”

“I suppose I'll just have to give it some thought I suppose…” Spike muttered. “Ah well, you’re right. I still have a few years before I really have to do anything about this…”

“Spike, just asking here, but do you uh…” Elora began. “But do you have any friends? I mean, besides Smolder.”

“Well, there’s you girls, I guess, and Smolder?” Spike flushed. “I’m not even sure where we stand really…”

Elora and Ember shared a knowing look before Elora continued. “I mean friends your own age. I mean, surely you’ve got someone right?”

“As I said, I’ve got Smolder. Isn’t one enough? I mean, quality over quantity right?” Spike asked looking back up at the faun. 

“...I suppose,” Elora said. “It’s just, Smolder isn’t always going to be around, she does live in Beast Tamers, right? That’s sorta a long flight to the Artisans lands isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I… I sorta have to agree with Elora here really,” Ember said. “Not something I usually do, but there you have it.”

Elora simply stuck her tongue out at Ember in a childish fashion, with Ember rolling her eyes and returning it as Spike snickered at the two. He’d almost compare the two to an old married couple. Goodness knew they acted like his mom and dad at times. Not that he’d ever tell them that.

“Seriously though,” Ember continued. “There’s this saying I’ve heard a few pony visitors to Avalar like to propagate from time to time. Friendship is Magic, I think it goes? Maybe you should follow their advice.”

“Maybe…” Spike admitted. “It’s just… with… well, who my adoptive parents are I’m afraid to approach anyone at times. How do I know they just wouldn’t want to be friends with me because of who I am?”

Ember brought him in for a small hug, the pink dragon smiling down at him. “Trust me Spikey, you’ll know…”

“...Spikey…?” said dragon asked before faking a gag. “Bleagh! Oh, that is so girly, very frou-frou!”

“He loves it, he just won’t admit it,” Ember said in mock whisper towards Elora. “I do wonder how he’d react if Smolder called him that…” she said faking a swoon.

That set off another round of giggles from the twosome. Spike simply rolled his eyes, he wondered about those two sometimes. Or girls in general actually, it’s like they had nothing to do but gossip and giggle over him.

Not that he minded, really. They made such great adoptive aunts, or friends or whatever. They meant well he supposed, even if they both were a bit on the girly side. He did hope they didn’t infect him with their frou-frouness. (Was that even a word?) Oh by Tiamat, they were right. He needed another friend if only so he could have someone to talk to and not sound like a crazy dragon talking to himself all the time.

Then, as if someone heard his pleas they answered as Spike ran headlong into a massive bird-like creature. Rubbing his head, Spike looked upwards and swallowed nervously. The newcomer was well muscled, what one might call a punk really. His leather jacket certainly gave off that impression, along with the way his head feathers had been styled. Mostly shades of blue, this newcomer also had a few yellow feathers thrown in for good measure. Even as the griffon stared down at him, Spike swallowed nervously.

Ember stepped in front of him in a protective manner, but Spike slowly stood up. Dusting himself off, he said: “Let… let me handle this okay? I wasn’t looking where I was going, so I have to handle this.”

“...You want to watch where you’re going, huh kid?” the griffon asked. “Like seriously, are you blind?”

“I could say the same about you really,” Spike deadpanned. “I mean, how do you fail to notice two dragons and a faun?”

A tense moment passed as the griffon raised a paw as if to strike, but then he laughed and extended it in a friendly gesture. “Hey, you’re an alright kid. Name’s Gallus. You’re Spike, right? Been hearing a lot about you. News travels fast, really…”

Spike winced. He’d hoped he wouldn’t run into one of ‘these’ types. Fanboys, the ones who’d bow at his or his parents' feet.

“Relax, I’m just messin’ with you,” Gallus said. “Personally? I couldn’t give a flying feather about who your parents are. Like seriously, dragons mean about nothing to me unless they do something I really actually care about.”

“What, and saving the world doesn’t count as something you care about?” Spike asked looking this ‘Gallus’ dead in the eye. “I mean, if they hadn’t you’d probably be enslaved or something, I dunno…”

“It has to be something that matters to me personally,” Gallus said as the two began walking outside the palace into the scorching sun. Gallus relieved himself of his jacket, wrapping it around his arm. “Like, something that really matters. Big old grand gestures like saving the world? I could care less. It’s the small stuff, y’know?”

“Yeah, I getcha,” Spike said. “Just asking, but what’s a griffon doing all the way out here? I mean, this sorta seems a bit… out of the way?”

“Could say the same about two dragons and a faun really, right?” Gallus asked.

“Touche,” Spike admitted. “Touche.”

“So, I assume you’re here for about the same reason I am, right?” Gallus asked. “The Bullzantines Baths?”

“Griffish Baths, but same difference. Love the alteration, by the way!” Spike laughed. 

“...I thought it was Bullzantines,” Gallus muttered. “...I really should have paid more attention in school. Like, seriously… I thought it was Bullzantines!”

“Well, it was till your people came along a few hundred years or so ago, and took this place for their own. Then the hippos arrived and took over. They kept the griffish name though, they liked it enough it seemed and had enough respect for history. It’s like this castle and the country just keeps changing hands…” Spike explained vaguely remembering something he’d read in Dark Hollow.

“Isn’t that how pretty much all countries work?” Gallus joked and Spike, at this, threw back his head and laughed. “So, how is Avalar nowadays? I heard you guys recently had this big bash. The Year of the Dragon, right?”

“Yeah, quite the whole shebang, as I heard Ember call it,” Spike said. “Mom had to play guard duty, just in case. Just in case.”

“So, what, is this Ember like your girlfriend or something? Or drakefriend or whatever you call it with dragons?” Gallus asked.

“No, no!” Spike blushed. “She’s married, and a bit out of my age range. More like an honorary aunt if anything else.”

Eventually, the two wandered outside the bazaar by pure chance and into a small grove of palm trees. They didn’t realize it at first, but then they did as coconuts landed atop their head. Coconuts thrown by monkeys. “Run!” Gallus said, and the two laughed as they did so leaving the screeching of angry primates far behind. Eventually, they tumbled down a dune still laughing. “Man, that was a rush wasn’t it?”

“I know, right?” Spike asked. “Nothing to get your blood flowing like a bunch of angry chimps throwing coconuts at your head!”

“...Seriously, this place rocks!” Gallus said as the two picked themselves off the sand and walked back into the marketplace, accidentally bumping into this gold pony wearing a pith helmet. 

“...Kids,” she muttered before going back to studying her map. “...Now, if I’m right the treasure should be this way…”

As Gallus and Spike talked and laughed, Ember and Elora looked on with a small smile. Yeah, this was going to work out just fine. Then they heard it.

“There she is,” Trixie’s voice came. “There’s the dragon who cheated me out of my next cape!”

Ember tossed a glance skywards. “...Oh for Lord Torch’s sake…”

And then she ran like the wind.

As this happened, both Spike and Gallus observed this, watching the Great and Powerful Trixie chase Ember all around the bazaar. Elora was looking on as well, facepalming again.

“...So why’d she get so worked up about a cape anyway?” Gallus asked. “I mean, it’s not like they’re one of a kind or anything…”

“Suppose I’d better go help her…” Spike muttered before walking up to Trixie. “Trixie, is it? I apologize for my aunt ‘stealing’ your cape, but you must understand that-”

“No, you understand twerp,” Trixie said shoving the dragon backward as her horn began to crackle with energy. “I had those fabrics on layaway for weeks, while I was on tour!”

“Hey now, lay off him!” Gallus shouted coming to his friend’s defense. “I doubt Ember even knew you had eyes on those fabrics, and besides out here it’s first come first serve last I checked! You didn’t pick up those fabrics when you should have, so someone was bound to grab them.”

“Why you…” Trixie hissed before she let out a soft ‘eep’ as she felt swords poking at her back. She looked upwards, only to see two massively tall hippo guards looking down at her. “...Um, Trixie is sorry for causing such a ruckus and a disturbance?”

Still didn’t keep her from being literally kicked out into the nearest portal though.

“...You didn’t have to do that, you know that right?” Spike said. “I mean, I could have handled her…”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be like a friend to just leave ya hanging, right?” Gallus asked. “Seriously, I look out for my buds!” he said before fist-bumping Spike. 

“Buds, huh? Yeah, I like that…” 
> 8: A Day Out
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a bit, huh Cyn?” Spyro asked one morning as he tried desperately to calm his fuming wife down. He swallowed, if Cynder got any angrier she was liable to start melting things by accident. 

Rubbing her shoulders with his hands, Spyro watched as Cynder began to calm herself the dragoness beginning to take several deep breaths.

“O-Overreacting?” Cynder sputtered and turned back to look at her mate. She raised an eyebrow. “You have seen our son’s new friend. He looks like a punk!” she said snorting smoke out of her nostrils.

“Relax Cyn,” Spyro said pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Ember vouched for the guy -and Elora too for that matter so don’t you start!- and for the record, I think it’s nice Spike’s making friends.”

Cynder sighed, banged her head on the table and muttered something under her breath that knowing her, was probably fairly unkind. “...Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I mean, it could be worse. Could have gone ahead and made friends with… ugh, Garble.”

“Oh, Garble’s not so bad…” Sypro said taking a sip of his coffee and Cynder whirled around to stare at him. “He’s nice once you get to know him.”

“He bullied you for years, Spyro,” Cynder deadpanned. “Please convince me you finally haven’t lost your damn mind.”

“He was jealous of me,” Spyro said. “It’ll be a while probably before I trust him completely, but we’re making some progress. Honestly, Cynder, don’t you think you might be that wee bit overprotective…?”

“...Yeah, I suppose I am,” Cynder finally admitted. “I… I’m still figuring out what to do with my first child. By Tiamat’s divine wing, I’m such a hot mess. And please Spyro, no puns.”

“Wasn’t even thinking about one,” Spyro told her giving his mate a brief hug. “I know, I know… There’s still a bunch of stuff we need to figure out. But we need to let Spike be his own drake, not just squirm into his life whenever we feel like it. I have that feeling that’ll only end up pushing him away from us.”

Again, Cynder stared at him. “Who are you and what have you done with Spyro?”

“Well, I’m not a complete dumbass,” Spyro deadpanned before smirking in a smug little fashion puffing up his chest. “I was able to save the dragon realms all by myself several times over for a reason after all.”

“And there he is…” Cynder said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re such a dork, you know that right? And here I thought you’d actually gotten wise on me for a moment. Shame it couldn’t last eh?” she teased.

“Well, I had to pick something up hanging around you, you do know that right?” Spyro said capturing her lips in a kiss. Cynder wrapped her arms around him as she pulled him closer, letting out a brief moan as she did so before releasing him.

A thin strand of saliva connected her and the now whimpering Spyro. “And that’s all you’ll be getting for a while,” Cynder said pressing a claw to her mate’s nose.

“Aww, and here I was thinking I could persuade you otherwise…” Sypro said with this little dorky grin.

“Oh… Oh, don’t you break out the puppy dog eyes Spyro,” Cynder drawled rolling her eyes. “It’s so unbecoming of you…”

“Didn’t hurt to try,” Spyro replied still with that same dorky grin plastered all over his face. “And admit it, you love them right?”

Cynder appeared to think about it for a moment before saying: “Okay, I admit they are growing on me…” 

Licking her lips she pressed Spyro to the wall kissing him passionately before releasing him. “...What… what was that about before about all of that being I get for now?” Spyro panted out.

“Erm,” Cynder smiled seductively. “I changed my mind.”

Capturing his lips in a kiss again, she pulled him in close. Then before they could even get a chance to continue their little fun, there came a sound that sounded like a fake gag from behind them. “Ugh, TMI!” Spike said making a small noise. “Seriously, again I ask for that stuff to be labeled harmful to minors or something…”

Pulling away from each other, Spyro and Cynder both flushed a bright red. “...How much of that did you see?” Spyro asked.

“Far more than I needed to or ever really wanted to, actually…” Spike deadpanned grabbing a piece of toast off the counter. “Your breakfast’s going to get burnt, by the way. Just thought you should know that.”

Cynder let out a small “Ack!” as she saw he was exactly right with the toast slowly becoming a bit too burnt. 

“...I swear, between you and dad getting all mushy with each other, this household’s going to fall apart one of these days,” Spike muttered. 

“And how do you know you won’t want to get all ‘mushy’ with someone someday?” Cynder asked.

“Ugh, by Torch no!” Spike said. “I am a one drake dragon thank you very much! Meaning I will be only caring for one dragon in this world. Me, myself, and I!”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how funny life turns out,” Cynder said. “I didn’t want anything to do with your dad at first, and look at what happened then…” she said with a small smile.

“Yeah yeah,” Spike said. “He completely suckered you. Heard that story before. Someone else falling victim to the plague we call ‘love’.”

Spyro barked out a laugh. “You remind me so much of me at times you know that kiddo?” he said through his laughter. “That is exactly what I said about Hunter and Bianca before Cynder changed my mind. Trust me kid,” he continued. “As you get older, life will find a way of throwing you a few funny curveballs.”

“Whatever you say, dad,” Spike shrugged not particularly caring. “Whatever you say…”

Cynder and Spyro shared a knowing look. He’d find out soon enough someday. That much they were sure of.







Artisans: Town Square

“Ugh, seriously…” Gallus muttered later that afternoon. “You seriously walked in on your parents making out? And then you just had to go ahead and tell me about it? TMI man, like do you not understand the meaning of that particular phrase?”

“You think it’s bad for you?” Spike asked. “Imagine my reaction when I walked in on them! Like seriously, I think I’ll be scarred for life now or something… Like dude, do you even know where to find any form of brain bleach or something?”

Beside him, Smoulder faked a gag. “...Bleagh,” she muttered with a small roll of her eyes. “I came to hear all about the badass Cynder Wingbeats, the Terror of the Gnorc Skies being a general… well, all-around badass. Not to hear about her becoming a stay in housewife and going all lovey-dovey and soft on us dragonesses!”

“...Pretty damn sure she could still kick your ass if she wanted to, Smol,” Gallus deadpanned. “Like, I am 99% sure. She is a Peace Keeper for a reason and all that. Like, they are the last dragons you want to mess with. And I’m counting in the Dream Weavers, who could probably give you night terrors!”

“Hey, so you’re not betting on me?” Smolder said giving the blue feather griffon a frankly rather dangerous look. Spike wisely, had decided to stay out of this while Gallus took a few steps back. “I mean, am I worth about zilch to you? I mean, isn’t it the job of our generation to surpass our parents?”

“Y-Yes, that may be true b-but…” Gallus stammered out.

“Buuuuuutttttttt…?” Smolder asked.

“Abort man, abort!” Spike thought as he eyed the twosome. “Like, you are treading very dangerous waters here!”

“But I am just saying,” Gallus said. “I am just saying, Smolder. Cynder is like older and far more experienced than you. That famous title of hers? I really doubt it’s just for show, girl.”

“You’re just chicken,” Smolder said. “Like, seriously chicken.”

“And I think you’re overestimating your own abilities,” Gallus said sagely, with a small nod.

“Spike,” Smolder said in this dangerously sweet tone -one that reminded Spike far too much of his own mother before she really let Spyro have it- as she turned to the young drake. “Tell your friend here that he is being a complete and utter moron.”

“Well… I… Uh…” Spike stammered out before he figured out the best answer. IE, the one that wouldn’t involve Smolder skinning him. “I personally think you both make very valid points.”

“Yes, that seems fa… wait, WHAT!?!” both Gallus and Smolder started in unified agreement before they realized what Spike had said. “I make a totally better argument than him/her!” they both yelled pointing at the other.

“...Jeez, go get a room you two…” Spike muttered quite honestly fed up with the two and their arguing. Honestly, they did fight just like his mother and father at times. 

“...Please tell me you just didn’t drag us both out here so we could argue and then hook us up?” Gallus asked with a flat deadpan stare. “Because if that’s the case, then you can seriously forget about it. Like, that’s such a cliche it’s not even funny man. No way in Hell is my beak going anywhere near her snout.”

“And vice versa with my snout and his beak, in my case,” Smolder said. “...Actually, how do you even kiss a… no, strike that. I don’t even want to know, and don’t you dare answer that Gallus.” she said seeing the griffon beginning to open his mouth to speak. He very quickly shut it.

“Actually, I had other plans,” Spike corrected them. “Just a night on the town if you will. Got tickets to see The Dragon Escapade, if any of you are interested. First come, first serve and all that…”

“...It’s not a romance film is it?” Smolder asked. “Because seriously, if it is, then I’m bailing.”

“It’s not, trust me,” Spike said. “Trust me.”

“...Is it horror, then?” Smolder asked. “I mean, I like a good slasher flick and all that but if you’re just looking for an excuse to cuddle up to me then-”

“Okay, A, if it was my parents would kill me and B, I’m not even remotely interested in you Smolder. Like, seriously, I’m not…” Spike said.

His flushing cheeks said otherwise. Something Gallus picked up on. “...Sure you aren’t man…” he laughed elbowing Spike. “You know what they say about denial and rivers…”

Then came a high pitched squeal from behind the threesome. “The Dragon Escapade?” a female’s voice said and the trio looked behind them to see a gray-feathered griffon hen practically coming towards them at the speed of light. She practically barreled poor Gallus over in her excitement. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to see that film? Do you know how long?”

“...Okay, who is this, and can I just ask why Mother Tiamat you do this to me?” Smolder requested. 

Gallus sighed. “...This is my sister. Smolder, Gabby. Gabby, Smolder.”

“Again, I ask why do you do this to me Mother Tiamat?” Smolder requested. 

“Oh relax,” Gallus said with a little wave of his paw. “She’s not so bad, like really she isn’t. She’s part of the postal service back in Griffonstone. Today’s one of her few days off, so don’t ruin it for her, okay?” he said with a small warning glare tossed in Smolder’s direction.

“What?” Smolder asked. “What’d I do? Why are you looking at me that way?”

Gabby smacked her brother upside the head. “You’ll have to excuse him, my brother’s a bit of a jackass. I swear when he was hatched he was born defective.”

Smolder actually burst out laughing. “You know what, I think we’re going to get along just fine…”

Spike hung his head. “...I guess I’m going to have to buy a fourth ticket then. ...There go more gems from my allowance. Whoopee…”

Later that afternoon, the foursome were inside a darkened movie theatre. As screams echoed in the background, Smolder rolled her eyes and tossed a popcorn kernel inside her mouth. “Weaklings. That monster isn’t even scary, I mean you can see right through his suit!”

A few hissed out whispers to be quiet were directed towards her. Smolder simply ignored them. “...Some dragons can’t just handle the truth I suppose…” she shrugged. “Like seriously, there’s the damn zipper!”

Spike simply facepalmed.

“...Is she always like this?” Gabby asked leaning over. “I mean, is she always such a movie critic?”

Spike simply shrugged.

“Well, it could always be worse, I suppose,” he whispered back.

“How could it be ‘worse’?” Gabby asked not really wanting to know.

“You haven’t met my mom, have you?” Spike asked. “She is the action movie critic. I swear I hear Darius complaining she’s going to put him out of a job one day. Like, whenever there’s an action movie Cynder just criticizes it’s every scene based on how ‘unrealistic’ it is. And oh, when the blood comes? That’s when she really gets going. Like, I’m pretty sure given her medical training a slasher film would probably bore her.”

“...so why don’t you ask her to join you in a slasher-thon or something?” Gallus asked from behind him. “I mean, if she’s constantly ruining the movie with how unrealistic it is then I don’t see why they could suddenly be so scary.”

“...Who says mom hasn’t tried to do that before?” Spike deadpanned. “Oh, she’s perfectly fine with me seeing a slasher film… as long as she’s right there along with me to make smart remarks on how one dragon can’t possibly lose that much blood. Dad’s the one who’s trying to keep me from having nightmares.”

“...Geez,” Gabby deadpanned. “Your entire family sounds like it comes from some sort of domestic sitcom or something.”

Spike had to fight back a laugh at this. “...Yeah, they sorta do now that you put it that way.”

“Oh, that is really bad CGI there... “ Smolder said. “Like you can really tell it was fake, FAKE I say! FAKE!”

“Are you trying to get us thrown out?” Spike whispered to her now seeing the nasty glares tossed from every which way towards them. “Like, are you seriously trying to do that?”

“What, I’m just speaking the truth, what’s wrong with that?” Smolder asked. Spike sighed to himself. Thankfully, Smolder then got her just desserts as the onscreen movie monster roared directly in her face. She let out a squeak and clambered into Spike’s lap as Gabby hugged him tightly, her whole body shivering and shaking.

Now, obviously, when a young drake has one very pretty female sitting in his lap certain ‘things’ begin to happen. Certain very uncomfortable things. Needless to say, Spike was hoping Smolder didn’t take notice. Thankfully, she never did and soon the foursome were back watching the movie as if nothing had happened. 

“Fake movie monster eh?” Gallus practically sneered quite pleased at seeing her taken down a few pegs. Gabby reached over and slapped him upside the head with a wing. “OW! What’d I do this time?”

“...You’re such a dick, you know that brother of mine?” Gabby muttered crossing her arms with a small huff. “Like, you were so inconsiderate back then, right just there. Thankfully I had my brave ‘knight’ to save me back then…” she said hugging Spike’s arm causing him to blush.

“And to think,” Smolder remarked. “It’s usually the knights slaying the dragons…” she teased. 

She then blinked as the leads then dumped… well… “...Okay, that’s a lot of fish.” Smolder repeated echoing the sentiments of the onscreen hero.

“Captain Obvious much?” Gallus deadpanned. “...Like, you could not be any more obvious if you tried. Oh well, at least the dragon’s sorta cool.”

“...Sorta cool?” Smolder asked. “He’s lame! Or she, or he… Oh dear goddess, I’m about to go cross-eyed just thinking about it…”

Eventually, when all was said and done the foursome found themselves walking out of the movie theatre. “...Perfectly wasted gems,” Spike muttered. “...Never been so unsatisfied with a movie in my life. ...I mean, the romance sub-plot was awkward, and what was with that death scene! I mean, come on!” he nearly screamed.

He crossed his arms and let out a cute little huff, complete with smoke snorting from his nostrils.

“There there,” Gabby said patting him on the back. “At least you got to spend it with friends, right? I mean, a miserable movie is always better with friends isn’t it?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say it was miserable,” Spike digressed. “Just unbearably average. I mean, I expected better.”

“Hear hear,” Smolder said punching the air in agreement. “I mean, given the writer -really Alban, I know you can do so much better- I was expecting a masterpiece!”

“I think I know how to salvage the evening…” Gallus said with a smile.

“...If it’s going around peppering people with water balloons from the top of the highest tower, you can go ahead and forget about it,” Gabby said. “Count me out.”

“...Awwww, that actually sounds fun…” Smolder said.

“And you agreeing to it makes me not want to do it even more,” Gabby pointed out.

“That was only one time,” Gallus stated. “One! And in any case, getting my ass kicked for being a juvenile delinquent was not what I was going to suggest.”

“Shame really, because it’d be oh so much fun to watch…” Smolder snarked.

“You’re such a comedian, you know that right?” Gallus deadpanned. “And in any case, that leads me to what I was actually going to suggest. There’s this local comedy club I wanted to check out. You guys are free to come along if you want unless you’re chicken…”

“Oooooh, he’s calling you out Smolder!” Spike laughed. “So, you going to accept his challenge?”

“Of course I am,” Smolder smirked. “What type of dragon would I be otherwise? And he’s calling you out as well, you do know that right?”

“...Oh, he is isn’t he?”

“Yep.”







“Okay, okay,” Gallus said over the audience. “I recently discovered something… intriguing. Okay, do you all know how beer is said to make us into all violent, dangerous drunk hooligans, or so the rumor goes...? I mean, come on, you do don’t you?”

He looked out into the audience and saw a few nods.

“WELL! I am here to tell you that beer isn’t the most dangerous substance in the world if you want to keep your marriage intact. Oh no, it’s actually tea. Yes, yes, I know what you all are saying. Tea? How can tea be dangerous?” he continued keeping the audience invigorated with every word. “So I discovered this last night, okay? I was up all night, drinking beer down at the Green Dragon, okay. My nestmate, she was at home drinking tea. Oh by Boreas’ wing, you should have seen how angry she was when I got home! I mean, what did I do wrong?”

That sent a chorus of laughter up from the audience, Gallus doing so well in playing the absolutely clueless husband.  And he continued to do so. “I mean, I was very quiet all night long, peaceful and silent as I headed to bed. And then the very next morning, she was shouting up a storm at me. So I guess the moral of this story is, ladies? If you can’t handle your tea, please just don’t drink it…”

“Oh, have I got one for you,” Spike said joining him at the mike. “You know, there’s this place we all go when we die, right?”

“So what is it, then?” Gallus asked. “Hurricos?”

“...You mean if we’re good, or if we’re bad?” Spike asked in a tone of faux cluelessness as the audience cackled. “But seriously though, not to dump on Hurricos. Nice place. The sad thing is, nobody knows it exists so you can’t exactly compare it to a place like say… the Skelos Badlands.”

“You know the most popular thing to do when going to the Skelos Badlands?” Gallus asked and Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Leave?” he asked and that sent the audience into howls of laughter. “You know, I talked to a fawn yesterday, and she remarked on the reason why the Earthshapers haven’t migrated over to the Badlands? Apparently, the answer was that the Badlands got to pick first on who got the more horrid environment.”

“Apparently?” Gallus’s eyes opened slightly. “I mean, c’mon. With a name like the BADlands, you’d think it’s pretty obvious…”

“Wait, isn’t there a place in Griffonstone everyone makes fun of?” Spike asked.

“Yes, the saying goes as follows: In every country, there is a place to be made fun of. In Avalar, it’s the Badlands. In Griffonstone, it is the Badlands.”

“Just how many badlands are there? Seriously. It’s like they’re all having a competition over which lands are the most bad. For all I know, you might just end up calling your badlands goodlands after you see what the other ones have to offer…” Spike muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know… There’s no place in the civilized world that anyone would want to subject to Gnasty Gnorc,” Gallus shrugged. “So where do you think they tossed him to? Yes, that’s right ladies and gentlemen. It is the Skelos Badlands!”

 A drum riff, followed by more hysterical laughter from the crowd came after that.

“But hey. Let’s be totally honest here. Sometimes, it’s not just places that get on people’s nerves. Sometimes, it’s some of the simplest things in all the realms. Like a trolley. And boy, do I know a pretty good line of jokes about a certain trolley…” Gallus smirked to himself.

“Oh, oh, wait. Dad told me about this one,” Spike chuckled knowing exactly where this was going. “He says it still haunts him in his dreams.”

“So. Picture the scene. You’re on a trolley, trying to fix it for this bird, alright? Sounds fairly straightforward. But then you get to the fact that the trolley’s heavy as a thousand-pound cow, the track’s coated with debris, and if you screw up once, you gotta do the whole thing again.” Gallus looked out towards the crowd. “Try number one, you think to yourself; ‘alright, alright. I made an oopsie on my part, it’s fine. Try number two, you think about what you did wrong. Try number five, the process becomes a bit annoying. Try number eleven, you feel like you wanna throw that trolley over the edge of the realm and let it fall forever. See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh yes,” Spike said. “I see where you’re going with this. Breeze Harbor has… issues with its trolley building techniques. Guess the builders were from Skelos!” 

He then went into a faux voice of Fisher the Breezebuilder. “Trouble with the trolley, eh? That's strange. You're the first one! No one has ever had trouble with the trolley before. In fact, controlling the trolley is so easy that a man from Skelos Badlands can do it. I would get those gears myself, but I don't want to at the moment.” Swear to Torch, that’s what dad always tells me when he’s trying to forget about that little… job.” Spike said with a shudder.

“Yeah, tell ya what, ya oversized, stupid bird. If this job is so easy, then why don’t you do it? Instead of pawning off your work to people who’ve never even used your trolley before? Do you just purposely have that story lined up for everyone who screws it up?!” Gallus barked, causing his eye to bulge out.

“I think he does, actually…” Spike said patting his friend on the back.

“Sounds like he’s got some trouble with the trolley, eh?” Smolder stepped up to the stage with a little giggle escaping her lips. “Never mind you guys, I’d pay to see that bird do the thing himself.”

“Ya know, that reminds me. He can fly. He’s perfectly capable of just flying around and getting all those gears himself no problem. Why does he even need a trolley in the first place?” Gallus tipped a claw. “Just more fuel to the fire that you should never accept jobs from a bird with a trolley, ladies and gentlemen.”

“You sure you won’t become a movie critic?” Smolder deadpanned. “I mean, you can point out so many plot holes within about five seconds, I think.”

“Well… I… Uh… I would,” Gallus said tugging at his collar. “But I wouldn’t want to ruin the movie for anyone, that’s all.”

“Eh. They wouldn’t be missing anything with all you’re giving ‘em.” Smolder deadpanned, causing another laughing fit from the crowd.

“Well, this is a fun night…” Gabby remarked as Spike stepped off the stage. “You might almost call it a date!” she winked at him.

“No way, sis. If this was a date, Spike would’ve been way funnier up there,” Gallus snarked. “What do you think, Smolds? Date or not?”

Smolder let out a little growl. “...I’d rather not think about the possibility of Hatoful Drakefriend coming true thank you very much…” she muttered crossing her arms.

“Ah, c’mon. You’d be squealing like a sheep if that happened, eh?” Gallus wrapped his claw around Smolder’s slender body.

“Hatoful… Hatoful what now?” Gabby asked cocking an eyebrow. “Is that like a disease or something?”

“Yeah, but it’s one you’d like to catch. It means you and Spike would live happily ever after on some kinda faraway island or whatever, where nobody would dare to think of looking,” Gallus nodded. “That’s why you’ve got that folder full of papers, right, Smolder? Because you want love to be a thing that’s not just dying?”

Smolder growled. “I swear, I am this close to causing a birdemic in reverse…” 

“Can’t be any worse than when Gnasty Gnorc had his vocal chords reworked…” Gallus rolled his eyes. “Seriously. He didn’t even sound like the same guy afterward.”

“For the record,” Spike said leaning over to Gabby. “Hatoful Drakefriend is this gamebook where you romance a pigeon. Not a griffon, not one of those birds from Zephyr but an actual honest to Torch common park pigeon. I think Alban came up with it as a  sort of joke and it just… took off from there I suppose…”

No pun intended, of course.

“Oh my god, what?” Gabby said through her giggles. “Like, seriously, that is something else. I’ve heard a lot of weird stuff in my time but that is… wait, how do you even know about this?” she asked in a confused tone.

“Eh, Alban asked dad, me and Uncle Hunter to be playtesters,” Spike said. “Mom kept giving us weird looks, but…” he laughed. “Truth be told I can’t say I blame her. That was a very weird day.”

“For the record, Hatoful Drakefriend has a very deep and interconnecting storyline!” Smolder shouted causing everyone to look directly at her. “...And I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Congratulations, Smolder! Ya got it off your chest! I’m so proud of you.” Gabby brought her into another constricting squeeze as she carried her over to Spike. “Why don’t you tell Spike about it too? See if ya can get him hooked?”

“Again, I ask why in Lady Tiamat’s name do you do this to me?” Smolder asked really not enjoying being hugged by the rather… excitable griffon. 

“Oh, did you get the secret ending with the teacher?” Spike babbled excitedly. 

“Yeah, same. What about you?” Smolder asked as Spike nodded. Gabby and Gallus turned to look at each other.

“...Uh, Gallus… has it… uh… occurred to you that we have very strange friends?” Gabby asked her brother.

“Yeah, it might have as soon as Birdemic and this Hatoful Drakefriend thing started getting referenced,” Gallus nodded. “It might have, yeah… But still, what fun is there in being normal? I mean, we’re two griffins and two dragons at a comedy club. I’m pretty sure that strange is gonna turn into so much stranger later down the line.”

“...You really shouldn’t go into waxing poetry, brother dear,” Gabby said. “Because that just sucked. Like, it really sucked balls.”

Gallus opened his mouth before Gabby tossed him a glare to shut him up. “...Please don’t respond to that. You’re on thin ice as it is, brother dear,” the hen said. “Were you seriously trying to set me up with Spike?”

“Well… I… Uh…” Gallus stammered out. “I just think that you need a… uh… boyfriend. Look, I just don’t want to see you become an old maid or-”

“Gallus, for your own health please do shut it, before I decide to punch you one,” Gabby said before sighing and rolling her eyes. “...and you wonder why you haven’t scored yourself a date yet…”

And so all was well.

As Spike returned home to Spyro and Cynder, he sighed. “Well, that was a… uh, day. Yep, that was definitely a day.”

Still, he mused to himself it wasn’t a bad day really. It was probably the first real time he’d had fun with friends in any long while. Before… all of this happened, he’d often been far too shy to even strike up a conversation with anyone. 

“Hmmm, guess mom’s rubbing off on me,” Spike thought to himself. “Because I doubt before I even met mom, I would have had the courage to talk to Smolder or anyone like her.”

He thought on Smolder, she was definitely a character that was for sure. Aside from her obvious fangirling towards his mother, she was a little bit of a spitfire. She didn’t seem to take any guff from anyone, which was certainly something to be admired. His heart beat just a little bit faster at the thought of it.

“Okay, that’s odd…” Spike thought to himself as he practically collapsed on his bed. “Yeah, that is definitely odd. ...Eh, I’ll ask dad about this in the morning.” 
> 9: Take it a Try
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ohhhhhhh, she'd go another man done gone
She lives in a swamp in a hollow log
With a one-eyed snake and a three-legged dog…” came up from the bayous of the Beast Makers realm, the hollers accompanied by the pickings of a banjo as dragons Bubba and Cleetus strummed away at their instruments. The air was hot and sticky with humidity, and strange and wild things grew as odd little sounds echoed up from the swamp muck.

“...This is where you live?” Spike asked as he looked at Smolder, the orange dragoness shrugging to herself. “No offense,” he continued. “But, it’s kinda uh… Oh, how do I put it?”

“Hot, muggy, a pile of crap?” Smolder remarked listing off the three on the tips of her fingers. “Go on, lay it on me. I’ve pretty much heard every smart remark about this place known to man and beast. Only about half of which are untrue, really.”

She laughed to herself before gnawing on a hock of lamb leg tearing away the flesh with her sharp teeth. “Oh, by the way, I really have to thank Alvar for the meat, so don’t let me forget that okay?”

“Is this what the definition of a henpecked husband is?” Spike asked himself. “Because that’s what this feels like. ...never mind the fact that I’m not even dating Smolder yet.”

“Trust me Spyro,” Smolder continued. “Being born on the bayou, it’s not exactly easy out here. So you make what jokes you can. Even if they’re at your own expense. When we say this place is beautiful, we’re only half-serious.”

“There is one thing I’m curious about, really,” Spike asked. “I mean, Beast Makers. The name really. Nobody’s actually ever told me what that’s all about, really… I thought animals already… well, existed. So you guys just make them or something?”

“Well, yes, and uh, no…” came a particularly rambunctious voice from behind Spike making him let out a very unmanly shriek and jump in the air. As Spike tried to collect his breath and save what little remained of his dragon pride, Smolder hugged the owner of the voice tightly. “We basically keep the balance. Overfishing, overhunting? We’re what puts the natural world right again until nature takes over and does the rest for us.” Bubba explained, having put away his guitar.

“That’s… uh, kinda cool I guess…” Spike said. “Way to lowball it there, man. This sounds like an actually important job.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet,” Bubba said, the dragon then smiling. “What I think you need here is a demonstration. Now, watch carefully.”

He held out his hands, a glowing green orb then manifesting between them as the air began to fill with a crackling humming sound. The orb flashed before in its place was a cute little bunny rabbit hopping off into the undergrowth. 

“Wow…” Spike whispered his eyes wide with shock and aww.

“Now, it’ll only last for a few hours, but then again maybe that’s all it needs eh…?” Bubba said with a small wink. Smolder facepalmed.

“Really Uncle,” she asked in a flat, deadpan tone looking decidedly unimpressed with him. “That joke again? That’s the fifth time this week!”

“Hey, the old ones are the best!” Bubba said with a completely unashamed grin. Smolder groaned. “All jokes aside though, this is serious work. We have to be careful about exactly what we make, and how much we make of these animals otherwise Mother Nature? She won’t be pleased with us. Respect Mother Nature, and don’t piss her off is the word of the trade around here, and with good reason, I should add.” Bubba continued in a saged, wisened tone of voice.

“Why? What would happen if you…?” Spike trailed off, not sure if he absolutely really wanted to know.

“Didn’t respect her?” Smolder asked before rubbing her chin in thought. “Well, I’ve never actually seen it happen in person per se, buuttttttt as the rumor goes around here, if you go ahead and decide to just over create the local magic starts going… wonky. There goes this old tale of sorts of how one dragon created far too many boars in a month, and then when he tried to create the mother of them all, the magic worked a little too well if I remember correctly. Oh, he got the mother of all boars, alright. It got crossed with a wyvern, and the Beast Maker became Beast Food.” she said with a tone that was only half-joking as she continued to gnaw on her leg of lamb. Spike shuddered, getting the picture loud and clear.

“Basically, you get what you deserve if you’re stupid enough,” Bubba said. “Everything exists in a delicate balance. Upset that balance, and the consequences… well, they won’t be pretty.” he continued sucking in a breath.

“...Geez, I get the picture,” Spike said with a small shudder before deciding it best to change the subject. “So, uh, Smolder, can you… uh, create anything like your uncle?”

“Is that a challenge?” Smolder asked cocking an eyebrow. “Or are you just asking rhetorical questions? Because of course I can!”

To prove her point, she created a small orb in her hands like her uncle had a few moments before and then it popped revealing a small gecko which rapidly clambered up her arm. “See, piece of cake!” Smolder laughed.
“Um… Okay… wow…” Spike said. 

“Okay, glad to know my awesomeness is blowing you away and all that,” Smolder remarked. “But you could stand to be at least a little more talkative right? Or am I just that little bit too cute for you?” she teased tracing a finger along Spike’s jawline as his heart skipped a few beats and his face flushed red. The epitome of subtle he was not.

Spike’s jaw opened and closed, but no words came out. Smolder burst out laughing and smirked. “Yeah, I thought as much. Glad to know I’ve still got it with you, right?” she continued before taunting off deliberately making sure to put that extra little sway in her hips. 

Spike finally managed to regain the power of speech and flopped down into the grass muttering: “I’m sooooooo doomed aren’t I?”

“Yeah, probably,” Bubba agreed. 

“Thank y… HEY!”

Bubba just howled with laughter. “Ah, to be young again…” 







Meanwhile back in the Artisans realms, Spyro was mustering up his courage for a talk with Nestor. He and Cynder had decided it was finally time to come clean and admit the truth to his adoptive father figure.

Today, the carpenter was found in Stone Hill, working on repairing the main building after a really nasty storm had come in and trashed the roof. Raising one mighty hand, with hammer grasped in his claw he brought it down with one powerful swing hammering in a nail. In the background, Gavin held up a sign reading a perfect ten. He looked to Argus, who was too busy munching away on a watermelon his sign tossed to the side.

“...Really, we’re doing this?” Argus said after finally noticing Gavin via pointed glare. “Go on, just admit your love towards the guy. Personally, I don’t see the point in this, given you can see Nestor hammering away at something any other damn day of the week.”

Tossing the watermelon up in the air, the dragon then opened his jaw in almost comical fashion as poor Gavin was spattered by red melon guts and seeds. “You have the table manners of a boar, you know that right?” Gavin deadpanned.

“...I didn’t know us dragons were supposed to have good table manners,” Argus shrugged. “What, you want me to grab a fork and a spoon along with wrapping a napkin around my neck?”

“...Well, if it keeps you from covering me in melon guts then yes…”

Nestor could only facepalm as the two squabbled in the background. He enjoyed the company of his friends, he really did but they could be such idiots at times. He then saw Spyro and Cynder flying their way and apparently so did Gavin as he cried out: “Oh, look high! Hero of Avalar and the Dragon Realms, incoming!”

Gavin then took note of the look on Spyro’s face and quickly decided to take his leave knowing when he wasn’t needed. Taking a sip of his coffee, he grabbed Argus by the shoulder and dragged him off.

“Oh, Spyro,” Nestor said flying down from his perch on the castle scaffolding. “Pleasant surprise to see you here. Come to admire your old man’s handiwork? I admit it’s nowhere near my best but…”

“Uh…  Yeah, something like that,” Spyro replied with a small nervous laugh. “Can… we… uh, talk? Like, right now?”

“Yeah, there’s sorta something we’ve been keeping from you actually…” Cynder added. Nestor looked fairly pleased by this.

“No, wait, don’t tell me,” Nestor said before bringing Spyro and Cynder in for a massive nearly bone-crushing hug making their eyes almost comically pop out of their skulls. “You’re finally…? Oh, have you told Spike yet? He’s going to be so pleased to learn he’s now a big brother.”

“I’m not… Spike’s not…” Cynder whispered fighting back the hot tears that threatened to stain her face. “I’m not pregnant. And I can never be…”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Nestor said his voice filled with a soft surprise as Cynder looked away in shame.

“Cyn, you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to…” Spyro said putting a hand on his mate’s shoulder. “I can go ahead and give him the news if you want…”

“No… No, I can do this…” Cynder whispered. “I… I just need to work up the courage and…”

“Spyro, is there something you’re not telling me?” Nestor asked in a suspicious tone. 

“No… No, everything’s fine…” Spyro squeaked out suddenly losing his nerve.

“Spyro…” Cynder whispered before taking a deep shuddering breath before speaking again. “What he means to say is… Well, I can’t exactly get pregnant really…”

Her voice was at a low whisper, almost completely inaudible. 

“What was that?” Nestor asked not sure if he had heard correctly. But he could have sworn Cynder was whispering something about how she couldn’t get pregnant. He was about to make a joke on how it just required that few extra tries but then he saw the look on Cynder’s face. “...Cynder, please tell me that…”

“I’m infertile, okay!” Cynder shouted suddenly. “I… I can’t ever have kids!”

“Spyro, is this true?” Nestor asked turning back to look at his son. 

“Yes… it’s true, all of it,” Spyro said refusing to meet his eyes. “We… haven’t had the heart to tell you, and we were hoping when we adopted Spike you’d just… forget about the whole idea really. You’re… you’re not mad are you?”

“I am, I admit,” Nestor grumbled crossing his arms though his eyes spoke of sympathy towards the violet dragoness he’d happily let into his family. “But not for the reason you might think. I thought we could trust each other with things like this, not just… lie about it. Yes, it’s true I wanted grandkids but you could at least have trusted me from the start about this whole thing. I’m your father, to both of you.”

“...I… I guess we just wanted time to process this, and try and handle it all… That’s it, I guess…” Spyro mumbled.

“And I understand that,” Nestor said. “And I sympathize with you, given now I know why you were so happy to adopt Spike in the first place beyond the obvious reason. It’s just family should trust each other enough to be able to talk with each other about these sorts of things.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry dad…” Spyro whispered. “We both are.”

“How… how long have you known?” Nestor asked gently turning back towards Cynder.

“Soon after we married,” Cynder said. “I… I took a trip to the Magic Crafters and talked to Eldrid, to see if he could figure out what was wrong. Well, he did and… I basically asked him to keep it quiet. He held his silence on the matter, nobody else knew besides Spyro, Spike -and even that was by accident!- and now you.”

“So I see…” Nestor trailed off. “I don’t think any less of you for all of this. In fact, I understand. It was your business to keep, actually. ...By Lord Torch, I feel like such an ass for making all those remarks about when you were going to give me grandchildren…”

“No, it’s okay. We should have told you sooner, really…” Spyro sighed.

“Hug it out?” Nestor asked and Spyro and Cynder took a nervous step back.

“No… No, I think we’re good actually…” Spyro said before seeing the dejected look on Nestor’s face. “...Oh, what the hell? Alright, fine…”

As Nestor hugged his adoptive son and then her in turn, Cynder felt a great weight being finally lifted up off her shoulders for what felt like the first time since she’d first found out and this whole mess started. She felt… loved. She chuckled. “He really is Spyro’s father, isn’t he? Even if not by blood. They share the same warmth and the same general goofiness. Yeah, I’m proud to be a part of this family.”

Spyro meanwhile had realized something. During all of these talks about family, he had remembered when exactly his mysterious dreams had started. They’d mainly kicked up just right after he’d adopted Spike and when his insecurities about not being a good father figure were at their height. So this begged him to wonder, was the dark dragon in his dreams really a nightmarish evil figure like he’d suspected at first or was he something else entirely. And then there was that one particular remark the dragon -if that’s what he really was- had made.

“It seems we share other qualities besides that of our color.”

“Excuse me,” Spyro said tearing himself away from Nestor. “There’s something I have to check out.” 

“Spyro?” Cynder asked in a concerned tone. “Is… is something the matter?”

“No, not at all,” he reassured his mate. “Let’s just say I think I may have had something of an epiphany!” he declared before rocketing upwards into the sky in a sort of hammerhead style maneuver and heading off towards the directions of the alps that the Magic Crafters called home.

“Should we be… concerned?” Cynder asked not having entirely believed her mate.

“Possibly,” Nestor said doing very little to reassure the dragoness. “But Spyro… he has a way of conquering whatever challenge set in front of him doesn’t he?”

“Yeah... “ Cynder agreed as she watched her mate’s retreating form. “That he does. That he does…”

 Spyro meanwhile narrowed his eyes as he saw the alps rapidly coming into view. Years ago, he would have needed a balloon for this sort of thing, now he could travel between realms via just wing power alone. “Okay then Mister Dark and Scary, let’s have ourselves a little… chat. On my terms this time.”







Back in the swamps of the Beast Tamers, Spike had decided to try his hand at creating a creature of his own. “Now feel the energy of the planet moving through your hands, your body. The power of the Goddess Gaia herself,” Bubba instructed. “Do you feel it?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I feel something at the very least,” Spike admitted. “Though I’m not sure if it’s actually the energy of the planet or anything. It could be just my stomach settling from lunch earlier. I’m not sure those fried crawdads agreed with me.”

“More information than I needed Spike… So, gee, thanks for that one.” Smolder deadpanned as Bubba let out a deep belly laugh.

“Okay, now focus that energy, let it flow into your hands. Imagine something, anything really. Doesn’t have to be large, or anything particularly interesting. It doesn’t have to be for your first try,” Bubba continued to instruct. “Okay, so do you have something in mind?” he then asked.

Spike nodded.

“Good,” Bubba praised. “NOW CREATE!”

And so Spike let the magic flow, a shape coming into being. Mind you, things quickly soon began to spiral out of control as a little too much magic was poured into the creation of this new lifeform. Soon, there was a massive -and quite angry- warthog, tusks quite easily able to gore someone if not dealt with.

REEEEEEEEETTTTTTTT!!!

“So, was this in the plan?” Smolder said as both Spike and her ran like Hell itself was after them. 

“Gee, what do you think?” Spike snarked before turning around and seeing that, yep, the hog was still after them. Then came a mighty war cry as Cleetus came out of the undergrowth with mace in hand before he slammed it head-on into the warthog soundly knocking it unconscious. 

“...Um, sorry?” Spike laughed nervously. Bubba let out a deep belly laugh and slapped Spike on the back, accidentally sending him sprawling into the mud. 

“Why be sorry?” the dragon asked. “I haven’t seen something that inspired since… since myself actually!”

“...Yeah, inspired’s one word for it really…” Smolder muttered to herself. 

“That was impressive, actually,” Bubba said. “To create such a thing at a young age, and one your first try as well! Seriously, I bet if you try again when you have more experience in controlling natural energy, you could create something truly… astounding.”

“I’mma going to take a wild guess here and say you’re kicking me out in… polite fashion.” Spike thought to himself.

Spike then found himself in Dry Canyon, on a whim. The way he figured it, if he was going to be a proper dragon and make sure history never repeated itself and no other drake had to feel the same pain as him he would become a warrior. Or, at least in theory anyways. He found himself being coaxed by Conan, a thin and rather tall dragon, with yellow scales and armor resembling that of Don Quixote. 

Cynder was there as well, having been… intrigued by this new development.  Watching with interest, she sat atop a cliff with Spike not even knowing she was there.

Spike, for his part held a bow and arrow and targets shaped like gnorcs popped out of the ground.

“Rule 95 of being a Peace Keeper: Concentrate,” Conan said in this calm voice.

Spike fired, and soon Conan changed his tune upon being pinned to a tree by a barrage of arrows. Cynder winced. “Oooh, yeah, that had to hurt…” she thought to herself.

“Rule 96: Aim.” Conan just sighed trying to avoid outright facepalming. 

“Well, at least he didn’t fail him outright…” Cynder thought. And then came the next test. And that revolved around rescuing a damsel from gnorcs. Conan was the gnorc, of course, alongside Maximos. This mainly involved painting their body green and roaring and stomping around like idiots.

“...I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life…” Spike muttered. “Those are supposed be gnorcs? Then I must be A.K Yearling!”

“Rule number 5 kid,” Cynder said having to play the instructor as her comrades were too caught up in acting badly. They would never be in one of Alban’s features, let’s put it that way and leave it at that. “When rescuing, always handle with care.”

As Cynder pressed her stopwatch, Spike broke into a run with ‘damsel’ in arm. Said damsel was actually a sheep wearing a wig. Again, not particularly convincing but it served its purpose. I do feel sorry for the sheep though.

“You never told me this was timed, I hate timed things!” Spike shouted as he ran before tripping and falling flat on his face. As for the ‘damsel’? ‘She’ was thrown into a tar pit. Um… Oops?

“...It pains me to watch this…” Conan muttered to himself. Maximos could only pat him on the back in abject sympathy. Needless to say, perhaps, Spike was not having a good day.

To be honestly fair to poor Spike, being a Peace Keeper was… difficult as any of them could tell you. Getting around the fact that you had to stand the hot sun until your shift changed, there was learning every weapon and every form of tactic known to dragonkind. It generally took several years to become a fully-fledged master at this entire craft. And that was presuming you got a good teacher. So, all in all, for his first day Spike was doing quite well. Better than Cynder actually.

Okay, so how much worse could Cynder have been? Well, let’s just say it involved one unlucky dragon being hit in the one place no drake ever should have been hit. It was pretty shocking, to say the least, for the reincarnation of the Terror of the Skies to have been so bad starting out as a warrior. Not that Cynder would ever tell anyone about this little hiccup. She actually tried to forget about it if possible. Not that you could blame her given poor Spyro was nursing an ice pack on his crotch for a good solid week.

Speaking of Spyro actually, he was once again in the dream realm, thanks to a potion given to him by Eldrid and once again wandering a realm of fire and stone. “Alright then…” Spyro muttered to himself. “You wanted me, come and get me!”

“So I shall…” a deep voice remarked from out of the aether. 

A dark cloud of smoke rocketed by Spyro before seeming to ‘land’ atop a nearby cliff, with the smoke beginning to form into a shape. Spyro’s eyes widened when he saw that the shape was almost an exact duplicate of his own, and in fact if not for the blank white eyes you could be forgiven into thinking that this was in fact Spyro himself. 

“So, you’re…. Me?” Spyro asked. “Or, well, sorta me anyways. Listen, glad to know I’m loved here, like I’m really feeling the love but looking at myself in a sorta funhouse mirror fashion is starting to really creep me out here.”

The dragon leaped down to face Spyro. “Huh, interesting. Very interesting…” the dark dragon noted. “It took you this long to figure out who and what I am? I thought you were supposed to be smart. I mean, you’re me. And I’m you.”

“And now that we’re all together in a yellow submarine, you mind being a little less cryptic?” Spyro asked. “Like seriously, you could give the Dream Weavers a run for their money really.”

“You flatter me,” the other Spyro said holding a claw to his chest. “Like, you really do.”

“Trust me, that’s far from my intention…” Spyro said his eyes narrowing and blowing out puffs of smoke from his nostrils. “Now you mind telling me who you really are instead of just putting on this funhouse act? Because trust me, it’s really starting to get real old quite quick.”

Then the darker Spyro got very close -uncomfortably so- to the original, breaking off a crystal and nibbling on it in his mouth like some sort of oversized pocky stick. “And I thought you came to me for the inside story. I’m hurt, I really am!”

Spyro just knocked the crystal out of his other half’s mouth with a swipe of his claws. “Do you do nothing but make jokes?” he demanded a flame beginning to build up, Spyro’s throat glowing a sharp orange color.

“Oooh, getting testy I see,” Dark Spyro commented. “But of course I make jokes. I’m you aren’t I? Weren’t you voted the class clown of the Artisan realms? I fail to see how exactly someone as free-spirited as you is even able to take care of a child! Hell, even Cynder with all of her issues could be a better parent than you anyways, she has to pick up the slack as it is already…”

Spyro growled at his dark counterpart, whirling on him and firing a blast of flame at him. “Now see, we’re just getting nowhere,” Dark Spyro commented as he hovered above him. “Like honestly, I talk you try and attack me. It’s like we’re going around in circles!”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so annoying…” the original Spyro muttered to himself. “But yeah, you’re right… I admit it, I am a bit of the class clown and a bit of a dunce at times. But you know what?” he asked stamping his foot. “At least I try because by Lord Torch I try.”

“Perhaps,” Dark Spyro admitted. “Perhaps. But is trying really good enough?”

“Well, it’s all I can do, right?” Spyro asked. “I have to be a good father for Spike because I’m all he’s got right? I have to set a good example. Sure, I’m probably not the best adoptive father in the world, but I don’t have to be. I just have to be there for him. And I think you know that as well because you’re… me. Born out of my own insecurities and doubts.”

Dark Spyro blinked. “...How did you…?”

“It took me a bit, yeah, I admit that,” Spyro said. “But as soon as I realized when you started to really appear in full, then I figured out just exactly who you were. Your little remark about how we shared more qualities aside from our color was the final hint I needed and just now you assuming your true shape clinched it for me.”

“Well, I guess you’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” Dark Spyro complimented doing a little mock bow. “You got it in one, I’m just those little emotions you keep up bottled away and try not to think very much about but yet, they’re still there! So hello, I’m your dark side!” he said doing a little wave.

“You’re not very threatening, for my dark side you know that right?” Spyro told his other self in a flat, deadpan tone. 

“Well, I am you remember?” Dark Spyro returned. “I’d hate to lose my sense of comedic timing.”

Spyro rolled his eyes. “So… uh, yeah… isn’t there supposed to be some big scene with soft orchestral music where I hug it out with you and tell you I accept you and such?”

“Well, this is your dream after all,” Dark Spyro pointed out, poking his counterpart in the chest. “So if you want, you can make it happen…”

“Yeah… I don’t think we’ll be doing that…” Spyro said flatly. “I’m pretty sure I don’t swing that way, like 99% percent sure.” 

“Oh shame,” Dark Spyro returned. “Because I really wanted to feel the love here. Ah, what the hell?” he shrugged before hugging his other self tightly while Spyro just blinked as his dark self practically melted into his body leaving no trace of his presence. 

“Okay, now that was just… trippy…” Spyro muttered even as the whole world began to turn white. Soon, he found himself back in the alps of Magic Crafters with Eldrid looking over him.

“You feeling alright Spyro?” the elderly alchemist asked.

“Yeah… I think I’m feeling better than I have in years…” Spyro smiled. Meanwhile, back in the dry canyons of the Peace Keepers realm, Spike sighed to himself as he sat upon a rock.

“...Well, today was a wash…” Spike muttered to himself kicking a pebble into a nearby tar pit. There was the sound of wings flapping from behind Spike, and he turned to see Smolder looking at him, arms crossed with an expression of disappointment. 

“...Wow, way to rub it in Smolder,” Spike deadpanned. “You could at least try and fake not being-”

Smolder slapped him upside the head. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Oh, woe is me, so I screwed up!” Smolder drawled. “Now I’ve got to throw myself a pity party! You screwing up is not what I’m disappointed with you for, it’s your attitude that’s the problem,” she said poking him in the chest. 

“You saw me today,” Spike exclaimed. “I mean, Lord Torch above, mom must be so disappointed in me…”

Smolder had finally had enough of this one-man pity party of Spike’s as you might have guessed by now and had decided to set him straight. While she may have been a year or two older than the drake, it didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy having him around. He was… fun in a sense. He had a noble quality about him that attracted Smolder to Spike like a magnet of sorts. And she doubted it was just Spyro and Cynder raising him that contributed. Smolder suspected, no she knew it had always been there. Recent events had only just managed to magnify it, that was all.

“Oh, I see the problem,” Smolder said rolling her eyes. “You’re such a mommy’s boy, you know that right? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but you’re trying so hard to be her, that you haven’t yet figured it out. And that’s you are not your mother. I mean, look at what you did in Beast Tamers, you created a big warthog for Pete’s sake.”

“Yeah, a big warthog that nearly killed us both,” Spike muttered. 

“So?” Smolder asked with a small shrug. “I mean if anything it shows you have potential. I mean, you heard Uncle Bubba right? That was no small feat. So give yourself some more credit eh?” she asked punching him in the arm.

She then said: “I swear, you lurking around and feeling sorry for yourself just doesn’t suit you. You’re the most upbeat guy I know, that’s why I like you.”

Spike began to feel his heart beating that little bit faster and his face flushed again.

“L-Like me?’ Spike stammered out with Smolder now very close to him. “As in… Like like?”

“You dork,” Smolder asked wrapping her arms around him. “What other kind of ‘like’ could I have possibly meant?”

And with that, as the setting sun as their backdrop another day coming to a close, Smolder finally closed the gap between them.
> 10: First Date
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s been like that all evening,” Spyro noted, as he and his mate peered into Spike’s room their heads just barely visible from behind the doorway. On his bed, Spike lay staring directly up into the ceiling. “...Yep, he’s in love alright. Oh, he’s grown up so fast…”

“I… I know,” Cynder whispered. “And I’m not entirely sure if I’m happy about any of that…”

“He’ll always be your little boy, you know that right Cyn?” Spyro said. “Like, he’ll always be our kid. He’s just… well, he’s starting to forge his own life now. We knew it had to happen eventually, Spike having to grow up and leave the nest. Now, while he’s still living with us, that day will come.”

“Oh, look at me,” Cynder muttered to herself as they walked down the hallways, the cold stone beneath their claws. “I’ve gone all soft. Guess what they say is true, becoming a mother… it changes you.”

“And this is a bad thing?” Spyro asked. Cynder gave him a warning look.

“What, are you saying you didn’t like me before I became a mom?” she asked dangerously.

“No, no!” Spyro stammered out quickly backtracking and reconsidering his next words. “It’s just… well, yeah you were a perfectly fine dragoness before Spike came into our life. I mean, you were a badass Peace Keeper and a gnorc’s worst nightmare -besides myself, of course- but as soon as Spike arrived something seemed to ignite in you. Something new, really. I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly but…”

“...Yeah, I get what you mean,” Cynder murmured to herself. “It was now I had something new to live for. I had a son to protect, not just a mate or an entire country. I had a son. It was like… bliss, really if you forgive me for getting poetic. I had a new mouth to feed, someone new to care for and I didn’t care what happened to me or my reputation as long as my son was happy and healthy. That was all that mattered.”

“Happy and healthy huh?” Spyro said before chuckling. “...Hey, you remember when…?”

“When Spike was sick with Dragon Fever?” Cynder whispered. “...Yeah, I do. That was our first real test as parents, wasn’t it?”

It had been several months before, just after Spike had accepted Spyro and Cynder as his new family. It was around midnight, with Spike sound asleep in his bed. A small puddle of saliva dripped down onto the floor from the young drake’s maw. His wings drooped to the floor, draped across the bed. His eyes shot open, as he rolled around in his bed unable to fall back to sleep. It had been like this all throughout the night really. Just when Spike thought he’d be able to fall back to sleep, and he usually did for about an hour or two he awoke to a searing migraine and a pain in his stomach.

“Mom… Dad…?” Spike’s voice was much more raspier and lashed than it had usually been. The fever had gotten to him in more ways than one, it seemed. “Is this stuff gonna last forever?”

“No, it won’t kiddo,” Spyro said. He had elected to perch himself at the foot of his son’s bed just to keep an eye on him. He had his suspicions that this was more than just a simple fever that would blow over in a couple of days. “Trust me, it won’t. You feel like you’re going to throw up son?”

“Kinda.” Spike hacked and spluttered once more, his every single motion causing Spyro to flinch and retract his wings. “It’s… it’s well it’s like I want to, and I don’t want to, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know kid. I do,” Spyro said letting out a small little yawn. He gently nudged a bucket towards Spike. “Well, if you feel you have to…”

As he said that, Spike did indeed hurl. Throwing up a stream of green, orange, and slightly yellow mucus, landing all over the ground by Spyro’s feet. After which, he could only moan and cough a tad more as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Spyro for his part looked unfazed, and went to the bathroom before grabbing a soft towelette running some cold water over it. Next, he returned and placed it over Spike’s forehead. 

“Hey, it’s okay…” Spyro whispered. “Now, what did I say?”

“That… that it’ll pass?” Spike coughed out, before retching and tossing more mucus into the bucket. “...Oh, it hurts…”

“I know it does kid,” Spyro said feeling utterly helpless at the moment. There really wasn’t much he could do right now, aside from helping Spike get through the night and helping him wait this out. “But c’mon son, you’re stronger than this thing. It’s just a bug really, you can power on through this. I know you can!”

“If it makes you feel any better, I had Dragon Fever myself when I was young. It was… yeah, it was pretty sucky, let me tell you that,” Spyro sighed as he reflected on his past. He chuckled, it had been such a pain to deal with.  Nestor had probably been feeling the exact same way as he was right now, pretty much next to useless. “But there’s nothing that I could have done back when I was small. I just had to wait, power on through everything and just let the others help me as best as they could.”

“What’s… what’s that supposed to mean?” Spike snorted. “That I’m supposed to just sit back and do jack squat? Is that it?”

Spyro would let it pass, he couldn’t blame his son for being in such a bad mood right now. Dragon Fever was… not fun to deal with. Spike was lucky the rashes hadn’t seem to set in. Those were the real ‘fun’. Dragons with the rashes were often forced to scratch hard enough to break through their scales, and quite often drew blood. There was a cream to help deal with this. He’d have to check and see if they had any in the medicine cabinet. 

“My point is,” Spyro continued. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. I mean, it’s not just kids who have to deal with it. It affects dragons of any age really. Young or old.”

“A-Any age?” Spike whispered. “Even grandpa Nestor?”

“Yep, even him. He’s had it once, and I said it myself. I had it once.”

“Then… Oh my Torch! Why are you even standing next to me?” Spike stammered. “This stuff’s probably contagious!”

Spyro laughed. “Relax, it’s not,” he said to reassure his son. “Just calm down okay? You need to calm down, otherwise your immune system won’t be able to fight this. This stuff has been around for centuries, and there’s been no known cases of it passing from dragon to dragon. Trust me, if I were concerned of it being contagious, I’d be in some hazmat suit or somethin’.”

Spike, in spite of his state had to laugh at the imagery that conjured up. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Spyro said patting his son on the shoulder. “Just sit tight okay?”

Spyro wandered to the kitchen, where he began pouring himself some hot milk. Yeah, he doubted he was going to be getting a wink of sleep tonight. Not with Spike so sick. Not that he minded, he’d gladly lose a few hours of sleep if it meant helping his son. And besides, when this all blew over he’d probably be sleeping for at least a whole day. At least.

Cynder was there in the kitchen with him, sitting at the table. “He alright?” she asked.

Spyro sighed as he sat down next to her, taking a sip of his beverage. “Yeah, he’s about as well as can be expected.”

“The rashes haven’t started up, have they?” Cynder asked. “Because I checked the cabinets, and we’re out of herbal cream.”

“I guess I’ll have to make a trip to the apothecary tomorrow morning,” Spyro sighed rubbing his forehead with a claw. “But no, there’s been no signs of rashes or anything. Not yet at least.”

“Let’s just hope it stays at ‘not yet’ okay?” Cynder muttered as she suppressed a yawn. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine, I suppose.” Spyro lied.

“Spyro,” Cynder said warningly. “You’re not fine, I know you. I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Yeah, alright…” Spyro muttered. “I’m sitting here while my son’s in pain and I’m just feeling useless because there’s nothing I can do aside from sit by his bedside and keep him cool!”

Son, Spyro mused to himself. It was still a new word to him, and yet he found himself liking it even more with every passing day. 

“Well, what more can you do, Spyro? You had Dragon Fever too, didn’t you?” Cynder lifted a brow.

“Yeah, and I know what you’re going to say,” Spyro replied once again rubbing his forehead with a claw. He sighed to himself. “If I had Dragon Fever, then I know how this works. You just have to wait this out and just power on through the pain.”

“Then what?” Cynder asked. “What is it?”

“Cyn…” Spyro sighed. “It’s just… well, you seem to be taking this in stride, really. Your son’s sitting in there, incredibly sick and you seem just so goddamn CALM!” he said suddenly shouting and slamming a fist on the table.

He then let out a whisper of: “...I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“I know,” Cynder said. “And you think I’m calm? I’m freaking just about as much as you are, I’m… well, I’m just better at keeping it under wraps than you are. Peace Keeper training, I suppose.” 

She shrugged. “But yeah, as you said he is my son too. I’m just as worried as you are, thinking over what more I can do, if there is anything.”

“We’re both hot messes, aren’t we?” Spyro muttered and Cynder had to fight back a laugh at the truthfulness of that statement. Spyro gave his mate a quick kiss before returning to his son’s room.

“You still hanging in there, kid?” Spyro asked. Spike nodded weakly before Spyro gave him a little noogie. “Good, kid. Good.”

Spyro smiled as he went over to a nearby bookshelf and began moving his claws through it as he looked through it. He smiled as he found a nearby book, and looked at the title. Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet, it read.

Taking it from the shelf, Spyro opened it to the very first page. He then flipped on a small lamp next to his son’s bed.

“Aren’t...Aren’t I a little old for bedtime stories?” Spike rasped out.

“Maybe,” Spyro considered. “Maybe you are. But the way I see it, what you need is a distraction right? Something to keep your mind off of this fever, am I right?”

“Y-Yeah, I suppose…” Spike admitted. “Thanks…. Dad.”

“It’s what I’m here for, really,” Spyro smiled at him. “Now, I will be the first to admit I’ve never really been that interested in books. That’s been more your mom’s thing really. But, on rare occasions -and you must promise never to tell this to your mother- whenever I find myself unable to sleep, I just pick out some book from a shelf and lose myself in it for a little while till I fall right to sleep.”

“They’re… not, y’know, romance novels are they?” Spike asked. “...Cause if they are, I’m gonna have to stop calling you dad then.”

“They’re not, trust me,” Spyro laughed before budging up next to him. “Now, shall we begin?”

Cynder had just walked on by the twosome, with a glass of water in hand. She knew it would probably help to settle her son’s stomach a bit more. She had to suppress a smile when she saw the twosome. “...Well, I’ll be…” she thought to herself saying nothing as she set the glass of water on Spike’s bedside table before she silently slipped back into the shadows and out of the room. 

An hour or so passed, and Cynder returned on a trip from the bathroom to see both Spyro and Spike curled up in the bed sleeping, smiles on both of their faces. The Griffon’s Goblet lay splayed out on the floor, long since forgotten. 

“Sleep well, you two…” she whispered.

“That was… Yeah, that was definitely a day,” Spyro said as he hung his head out the window, feeling the cool night air brush across his scales. “Well, as Spike’s father, it is my duty to support him, and reign him in if necessary. Unless you want to do that Cyn…?”

No response. “Cyn?” Spyro asked before he turned to see Cynder fast asleep.

“...Huh.”





Spike that next morning felt like he was on a permanent high. He had a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend! Or dragonessfriend? ...he wasn’t sure of the actual terminology behind that yet.

Spike looked himself in the mirror, and smiled doing twin finger guns, before running a hand through his scales like one would do a pompadour. “Looking good handsome,” Spike said. “Like, you look good enough to wow your girlfriend right out of her socks!”

“Hey, when you’re done patting yourself on the back?” Cynder commented walking by trying very hard not to laugh. “Breakfast is on the table, just so you know.”

Spike laughed nervously, a little red in the face at being caught. He smiled to himself, well at least she was supportive of him. It was like having his own mother saying that she was so proud of him. His smile then soon faded at this thought, he hadn’t thought much about his birth mother in weeks and it shamed him to realize this. 

“Have I really forgotten you that much, mom?”

He loved Cynder, yes but at times he did occasionally think about the possibility of what if Cynder was his birth mother. He knew it wasn’t true, but apparently he’d come to love her that much that in his mind’s eye, whenever he thought about who his mother was Cynder had begun to replace his real mom. Was it wrong? 

“...Oh, here you go again,” Spike thought to himself. “You’re throwing yourself another pity party, your real mom would have been happy for you to be Spyro and Cynder’s son. Actually, Cynder? She is your real mother, just as much as Windflame was.”

Spike went through his breakfast quickly, prompting Spyro’s curiosity. “Hey, what’s got you in such a hurry kiddo? You got somewhere to be?”

“He probably wants to spend some time with Smolder…” Cynder teased as she came into the room, dressed in her armor. Her sword was strapped to her hip. 

“Oh, is that all?” Spyro asked. “...I wonder if whenever Smolder comes over, -as you know she will- I should implement a three inch rule…”

Cynder had to keep herself from laughing at Spyro playing overprotective father again. He was such a dork, but then again that was part of his charm, really.

“...actually, it’s not that,” Spike muttered fiddling with his silverware. “Okay, yeah it’s sorta related to Smolder but… Well, I need to visit mom again. That’s all.”

The room went quiet as Spyro and Cynder shared a look. More often than not, they didn’t really bring up their son’s birth parents. Maybe it was selfish of them, they’d realized, to think Spike was completely their own. It still shocked them whenever Spike brought up Windflame, even if they knew it really shouldn’t have. Deep inside, he still loved her. 

“...I… I see,” Spyro said. “If… if you want, we can accompany you to her and your father’s grave…”

“No,” Spike swallowed. “This is something I have to do alone, dad…”

Spike made his way to the Peace Keepers realm, via a small portal that was linked only to Spike’s household and only deposited him in this exact spot that was otherwise unreachable. Atop a high plateau, Windflame and her mate had been buried overlooking the canyons in which they’d once called their own. Avalar had always been his mother’s favorite place in the world, Spike knew. She’d called it a paradise. Looking down into the maze of canyons and little settlements buried within them, Spike was reminded why. Of course, he’d always heard the stories of the dragons’ birthplace. The Forgotten Realms, which Spyro had freed from the Sorceress and her grip some years back. He imagined it was breathtaking. But for his mother? This was her home. 

He walked up to the small gravestone, not noticeable by many unless you were really looking but still noticeable. On it was carved two names, and Spike had to fight back tears as he read off of them. He then placed some marigolds in front of the grave, they’d always been his mom’s favorite. They shined just like her eyes.

“...hey, uh… Mom. Dad,” Spike said. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I haven’t come back to visit you in a while, but I’ve had a lot of things on my mind. Been trying to figure out my place in life, and I think I’m getting there. The Beast Makers… yeah, I think I might be able to become one if I work at it enough. And I’ve got a girlfriend, just thought you should know that. You’d like her, Mom. She’s smart, and pretty funny actually. Her name’s Smolder. Okay, yeah, not very original for a dragon I know. It’s about as bad as Ember. But… um… yeah. She’s a keeper, I just know it. Something tells me she is, call it a sixth sense or something but she’s exactly who you’d want for me.”

Spike had to pause and wipe away a few tears. “...Yeah, look at me. Crying again, you told me I should have the strength to hold my head up high, and for the most part I’m trying. But whenever I think of you… The pain should have passed by this point, right? I mean, I should have moved on. I guess I’ll just never forget you, that’s all. Well, anyways. I hope you’re happy, wherever you are.”

He started to walk away, giving the grave site one last longing look before heading back to the portal. He then heard a voice. “You alright man?” 

“G-Gallus?” Spike asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check up on you,” the blue-feathered griffon admitted. “I came to visit you, and Spyro told me where you were. I can’t imagine he’s all too happy with me intruding on you like this, but I was concerned.”

“...Yeah, well… I’m okay aren’t I?” Spike asked.

“Maybe,” Gallus agreed. “But c’mon, I’m your best friend. Okay, granted that’s only because you don’t really have too many friends aside from me, but best friends should be able to talk about this sort of stuff really right?”

“...I suppose…” Spike said sitting himself down atop a small rock. Gallus sat nearby. 

“...Now, uh… Look,” Gallus said. “I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. I mean, losing your parents just like that? Man, that’s rough. But they’d want you to move on, right?”

“But that’s what I’m doing!” Spike shouted perhaps a little louder than he intended. 

“Really?” Gallus asked. “Is that why you come to visit their grave every month?”

Spike stared at him. “How did you…?”

“Spyro told me,” Gallus admitted. “Okay… uh, look. There’s a reason I bonded with you so well, I think.”

“And that is…?” Spike asked cautiously, not really sure if he wanted to know.

“We’re both orphans,” Gallus said. “Yeah, there. I said it. We’re both orphans. I never knew my parents, so maybe I’m lucky in that regard. Kept me from getting… hurt. Instead, all I have is this cranky old grandpa who’s always going on about Griffonstone’s glory days.”

Spike’s heart went out to Gallus. “Dear Torch above… I never knew.”

“Now, don’t go throwing me any pity parties, okay?” Gallus said. “I’ve learned to deal.”

“But you shouldn’t be!” Spike shouted. “You shouldn’t be brushing this off just so casually!”

“Maybe not, but that’s my lot in life,” Gallus said before chuckling bitterly. “I guess what they say is true, those who laugh the loudest are probably crying the hardest on the inside.” 

Spike laid a hand on his shoulder before Gallus brushed it away. He then continued with: “Okay, I won’t pretend to be some sort of expert on… feelings or anything. But I can suggest a few things. Your mom, your birth one? She’d probably be proud of you, yeah, but she wouldn’t want you moping around. She’d want you to get on with your life. Remember her, but just keep going. But then again, I’m not you am I? I can’t pretend to understand how your brain works. I’m just tossing out suggestions here after all…” he said giving a small little shrug.

“No… No, you’re right…” Spike said and if he didn’t know better he could have sworn he saw Gallus give a smug little smile.

“So here’s what I’d do,” Gallus went on. “I’d bring Smolder here, goodness knows your mom -Windflame was it?- would love to meet her. Doesn’t have to be on your first date, doesn’t have to be on your second. But she deserves to know, because if you really plan on spending the rest of your life with her…”

Spike wondered how much he’d heard. Spike then smiled at Gallus. “Thank you…” he breathed out. “No seriously, thank you.”

He then gave Gallus a brief hug. “Yeah… yeah, okay, that’s enough of that!” Gallus said. “I’ve got a reputation to keep up here! Okay, so yeah we’re doing this? Okay then, bring it in here then.”

“So he’s a hugger then?” Gallus asked. “I’m… surprisingly cool with this. Men should be able to share hugs, right? And me? I’m a man!”

Eventually he was released, and Gallus gave Spike a brief smile as he watched him go back through the portal. Gallus was soon to follow, and when he arrived back in Hearthstone Spyro stopped him.

“Thank you…” Spyro said.

“Yeah, uh, just doing my part I suppose…” Gallus admitted rubbing the back of his head. “I may not know how to show it at times, but Spike? He’s my best friend, and I have to be there for him right?”

Spyro seemed to be appraising Gallus with his gaze. The griffon would not be remiss to admit he was… slightly nervous given what he knew Spyro could actually do to him if he wanted. Everyone gave Cynder the credit for being the scary one in this family, but if you asked Gallus he would say Spyro was plenty scary himself! 





A few days later, Spike paid a visit to Cloud Spires with Smolder. She was… well, to put it mildly less than impressed. 

“...Okay, why’d you take me to a weather factory?” Smolder asked flatly.

“I thought you’d like it,” Spike said. “I mean, smell that fresh mountain air!”

“...If I wanted mountain air,” Smolder said. “I’d have asked you to take me somewhere like the Magic Crafters realm. ...Still, I suppose it isn’t all bad. I mean, at least it’s quiet. It’s not like the Colossus Valley where you hear yodeling atop every peak. ‘Cause trust me, that gets old real quick.”

“So is that a yes, or a no?” Spike asked. 

“That’s a yes, you dingus,” Smolder said with a small roll of her eyes. “Really, you need to be more sure of yourself! Besides, if you took me all this way… well, I suppose I can’t back out now can I?”

She laughed. “So this is the Forgotten Realms huh? The dragonkind’s original birthplace? Cool, I suppose. Hey, is it true that your father jumped down a hole and ended up somewhere around here?”

“You mean Sunrise Spring?” Spike asked. “Yeah, he ended up there. Dad called it…”

“Surprisingly peaceful?” Smolder finished as they walked through the realm, set up against gorgeous towers and high cliffs, everything in varying shades of white and pink. Soft snow fell from the clouds above. “Yeah, I think that’s what everyone says about Sunrise Spring. I’ll admit, it’s good for a vacation if you’re not the restless sort.”

Truth be told, the fresh mountain air wasn’t the real reason why Spike had come here. He’d heard rumors of the weather imps being surprising artisans, and he wanted to get a gift for his girlfriend. They said, after all a way to a dragoness’ heart was to her love of pretty things.

And Smolder, even as tomboyish as she was definitely was a dragoness. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny her love of pretty things. Spike turned to look at her, wearing some earmuffs and a small scarf. She looked absolutely adorable. Not that Spike would ever tell her this, of course. He valued his life.

In any case, he soon found what he was looking for. In a small building to the west of them, Spike had found one of the imps and was looking around to see if Smolder was watching. Thankfully, she wasn’t.

“Hey… so, is it true you’re a bit of an artisan?” Spike asked the imp, named Cumulus. 

“A bit?” Cumulus asked. “A bit?”

He sounded offended. “Kid, you are underselling my abilities. I am more than ‘a bit’ of an artisan!” 

“Well, sorrrrrrreeeeee,” Spike drawled. “Didn’t know you were so proud of your abilities!”

“Hey hey,” Cumulus said. “Can you take fresh mountain air and rain, and reforge the sounds they make into a whistle that can replicate your own unique roar? No? Yeah, I didn’t think so!”

“Okay, okay!” Spike replied holding up hands in a surrendering motion. “I’m perfectly convinced! So, how much do I have to pay you?”

“60% of the gems out of your own pocket, or you get nothing,” Cumulus said to him. “Quality like this doesn’t come cheap ya know.”

“...Yeah, well I still haven’t seen you make anything so… uh,” Spike deadpanned. “Excuse me if I take your words with a little grain of salt really.”

“Oh, OH!” Cumulus snorted, the little imp's feathery wings flapping angrily. “You want a demonstration of my prowess? FINE!” 

With that, he grabbed a few clouds and began shaping and forming them before tossing in a potion labeled ‘Song of Rain’ into the mix before freezing the whole thing solid. “There, you little bean. Blow!” Cumulus said handing it over to Spike. 

Spike did so, and to his surprise he got an exact replica of his roar coming from the little whistle. 

“You doubt me?” Cumulus asked. “Now… about my payment…”

“Oh… Oh no. Technically this is mine now,” Spike said. “By the rules of dragon trading set up by the great Ignitus long ago, me challenging you to show your wares and you handing me one of them for free…”

“...Oh for Nimbus’ sake,” Cumulus grumbled having just remembered said rules. It was part of a long forgotten peace treaty with the Realms back when they’d first started out. It had been buried under the Sorceress’ laws, but it was still in existence. 

Spike however, hadn’t forgotten about the rules and it was thanks to Ember he knew about them. The Beast Maker, as we’ve seen before was quite the master trader and haggler.

“...You still have to pay for your girlfriend’s gift though,” Cumulus remarked. “This is after all, part of a set.”

“And when you offered to give me one part of the set, which you just did,” Spike remarked. “That means you have to complete the set as per the-”

“...dragon trading laws, yes yes, I know…” Cumulus muttered sounding a mix of being mildly impressed or annoyed. Spike couldn’t honestly tell which. “You don’t have to rub it in my face ya little whelp.”

Spike was later walking off smugly with two little whistles in hand. Both resembled a dragon’s head. One resembled Spike’s while the other resembled Smolder’s. Spike chuckled, and to think with only a little knowledge of dragon trading laws he’d gotten them for a pittance! Taking back to the skies, he soon found Smolder next to a miniature sun. She’d kicked up her feet atop a folding lawn chair and was dozing the day away with sunglasses over her eyes. Spike just thanked Tiamat above that the ice that his whistles were made of was practically unmeltable. 

Smolder rolled over onto her belly, and raised up her sunglasses to look at Spike. “So, where you been dragon boy?” she asked. “I’ve been snoozing the day away here. I take it all back though, this place is for keeps!”

“I just had to check on something, that’s all,” Spike lied hiding the whistles in his shoulder bag. “Hey, want to go for a fly? There’s nothing quite like having the evening skies as your backdrop, really…”

“Hmmm…” Smolder thought it over before rolling back onto her back and placing the sunglasses back over her eyes. “Maybe in a moment, ‘kay? Right now, I just want to chill…”

“Yeah… chill…” Spike said as he rested himself up on the stone floor next to Smolder. “...Yeah, I suppose I can get along with that…”

He thought back to earlier.

“So…” Smolder said. “This is her, huh?” 

They stood in front of Windflame’s gravestone, Smolder perched atop a nearby rock. “This is your mom, I mean? Was she beautiful?” she asked, unusually quiet. 

“Yeah…” Spike whispered back. “She was the most beautiful thing on this planet.”

He felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He turned to see Smolder giving him a soft little smile. “I’m sure she was…” she whispered.

With that, Smolder walked up to the gravestone and cleared her throat. “...Hey, uh… Yeah, so it’s me. I’m not sure if Spike’s ever mentioned you to me, but name’s Smolder. I’m his girlfriend. I felt it was the right thing to do, just to come say hey to you at least once. It… well, it just felt wrong for me not to meet both sets of Spike’s parents, come see who made him the drake he is today.”

She stayed silent for a few moments, before continuing. “...Yeah, I’ve never been good at this sort of thing, really. It’d probably have been easier if I’d met you… you know, before. I’m sure you were a good mother, really. Spike certainly didn’t get all of it from Spyro and Cynder. I’m sure you and your mate contributed to it as well. Like, you had to right?” 

“Anyways,” Smolder sighed. “I promise, I’ll do your son right. I’ll stay by his side no matter what, through thick and thin. ...Goddess above, I hope that didn’t sound too cheesy. Because by Torch, I do NOT do cheesy. Like, I actively try and avoid that sort of crap.”

She felt a warm wind brush over her scales, and Smolder probably would have contributed it to the desert except it was too late in the day for such a warm blast of air. Maybe it was nothing. “But… yeah. Your son? He’s a good kid. He deserves better really, you should be there to watch him grow up. But I promise, I’ll do him right okay? Like, I promise.”

Then came another blast of warm air, and Smolder would have never admitted this aloud but she was sure along with it came a voice whispering with it: “Thank you…”

Smolder tossed a look behind her as she went back towards the portal, and while she might have been imagining this she swore she saw a pink dragoness much larger than her flying through the clouds. She blinked, and the dragoness had vanished. 

Back in the present day, Spike had led Smolder on a merry chase through the clouds below and as night fell over the dragon realms they’d touched down in the forested lands of Fracture Hills. All around them, the timberlands surrounded the small village. Wooden walls like that of a fort’s kept most of the unfriendlier wildlife out of the village. Most. Sadly, due to Earthshaper activity the ground was riddled with cracks exposing hot boiling lava coming from the nearby Mount Fracture.

Despite this hazardous environment, it was actually a wealth of festivities. The fauns and satyrs were nothing if not the partying type, as fiddles and bagpipe music was audible all throughout the valley. And the lava really posed not much of an issue for dragons, as their scales could withstand it. It was sorta like a hot tub really. 

“Wow, do they not notice the lava,” Smolder asked as she saw Elora dancing with a nearby satyr. “...or do they just not… care?”

“We’ve learned to live with it,” Elora explained. “It’s always been a hazard, but us fauns are nothing if not adaptable. I mean, we can handle the Earthshapers so we can handle a bit of lava right?”

A small ball of boiling rock erupted from the pool nearby and landed next to Smolder who looked unconvinced. “...If you say so…”

“I personally think you need to loosen up,” Elora said as she grabbed a nearby fiddle and began playing a little jig. “I mean, we wouldn’t have invited you and Spike here if we didn’t think you wouldn’t enjoy yourself right?”

Truth be told, there was another reason why Elora had invited Smolder to here of all places. Spike had planned to ask Smolder if she’d marry him someday. Elora at first thought Spike was rushing it just a bit, but then she’d seen the look in his eyes. She knew he was in love, she’d seen that same look in Spyro’s eyes whenever he talked about Cynder. Did it hurt her that her knowing that her ex was with someone else? Yeah, it sorta did. But Spyro was happy, and if Cynder made him happy then she’d be happy.

But that was then, and this was now and she wanted to make Smolder feel as if she was part of that one -if not very odd- big family Spyro considered all of his friends to be a part of. 

So, for whatever reason Smolder found herself swept up in all of the festivities and doing what was called a ceilidh dance. Whatever that was. It was fun though, if not exhausting though and soon Smolder found herself laying flat on her back in the grass. The stars twinkled brilliantly up above. 

“...Um, okay… yeah, that was… something. Definitely something,” Smolder said as Spike laid himself next to her. “World’s still spinning, I think…”

“Oh, you know Elora means well,” Spike said. “She’s right you know. You do need to loosen up, if not just a little.”

Smolder threw back her head and laughed. “Imagine! You telling me I need to loosen up! I’ve always been the jokester in this relationship, remember when we first met?”

“...Yeah, yeah I do…” Spike flushed red rubbing the back of his head with a claw. “Still, you had fun, right?”

“Ask me again when my head stops spinning, m’kay?” Smolder replied. “Oh, okay… yeah, there we go!”

“The stars are nice tonight, aren’t they?” Spike asked pointing up to the sky above where many lights shone down upon them. “Bet you don’t get them like this in Beast Makers, what with all the trees…”

“Oh, really?” Smolder asked raising an eyebrow. “You’re going with that old cliche? Really? Goddess, that’s so… corny.” she said with a smile.

“Hey, that’s what I do,” Spike said in reply. “Corny, and damn proud of it!”

“And you can stop hiding those whistles in your shoulder bag,” Smolder said. “Caught a glimpse of them on the way down, and then during the dance…”

“...I can’t surprise you at all, can I?” Spike sighed reaching inside the bag. 

“Not really,” Smolder said before kissing him. “But I still love you for it.”
> 11: Holidays
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few years pass and despite Spike still not working up the courage to propose to his dragonness -because really, who else could she possibly belong to- life went on as usual. For better, or for worse. Take the chronicles of Gallus Gruff for example and his younger sibling. This one requires a bit of explaining really. 

Gallus wasn’t quite sure, but somehow he felt holidays in Artisans were different than the ones back home in the Griffon Kingdoms. He’d never been a fan of the cold, winter being the worst of it, because really it was always so cold and the wind up from the mountains never helped. 

But that wasn’t the worst of it, was it? Oh no, Gallus could handle cold but the windchill was always the least of his problems during the holidays given that every Blue Moon Festival -as they called it- was one of the only times griffons didn’t care about themselves for a change. Oh sure, they tried to be nice to each other all year ‘round, trying being the operative word. To her credit, Queen Gilda was trying to do away with tradition but it was hard to do away with centuries of tradition. 

Holidays at his own home, calling them celebrations was probably stretching it a bit. More like warfare, possibly. It was always about getting each other the best gift and showing off said gift as soon as you got it. It was madness, chaos and to be honest Gallus would much rather spend time at a bar rather than get drafted. Of course, in Griffonstone not doing such was considered a sign of cowardice -or just out and out rudeness- and as much as Gallus would rather fold over and be some sort of civilian casualty, he didn’t have any place to go. And then there was the small matter of his sister.

Gabby, and to this day Gallus wasn’t sure how his younger sibling had turned out quite so chipper with his family involved. Oh sure, she always tries to put up a cheery face every Blue Moon Festival but it’s obvious the only one enjoying all that self-aggrandizing were her parents. If it weren’t for that, Gallus would have probably have flown the coop long ago. He also knew for a fact that as soon as she could, Gabby was probably going to emancipate herself. He’d seen her looking at the laws about such things when she thought nobody was listening.

This was just what it meant to be a Gruff in their family. It was a sad state of affairs to be sure, but as it stood right now Gallus and his sister would have to just put on their best faces for another year. ………..at least, that had been the plan until they’d received the invitation in the mail. It had been marked with a distinctive purple ribbon and smelt of small embers and almost in an instance Gallus had known who it was from.

It was obvious from the outset that holidays in the dragonlands were… remarkably different. Or maybe it was just holidays in one particular household that were remarkably different. Not that Gallus minded.

Or Gabby, from the looks of things.

“Ha!” the young hen crowed as she slammed a clawed fist on the table in front of her, cards clutched between her talons. “I win, pay up old boy!” she says in this stuffy oh so fake Trottingham style accent that nobody seems to bother to correct. Or could be bothered to correct, given the smile cast upon her beak that seemed to be infectiously infectious.

“Damn and blast, foiled again,” Byrd mutters, the inexplicably flying penguin forking over sweets to his all too young opponent. He grimaces. “...and here I thought the hummingbirds back home were well-trained.”

“This implies you trained them,” Gabby smirks victoriously. “So far, I’ve seen none of that experience tonight.”

A low “oooooh…” echoes around the room at the burn. Smolder, from her spot resting on the windowsill comments: “She’s got you there Sarge! Surely you can’t let this stand, you’ve got to claw your way back to victory! Go on, old boy!”

A series of loud raucous cheers filled the room as Gabby and Byrd go to battle once more. Except it wasn’t really a battle, because how could it be a battle if no blood was shed? No limbs were lost? No no, calling it a battle was incorrect. Gallus might have called it a slaughter maybe, given his younger nestmate’s track record so far. It was the good kind of slaughter really, one which put a smile on Gabby’s beak like the holidays were supposed to. If Gallus is smiling at all during this, he fervently denies this despite any questioning otherwise. He did have his reputation to keep up, but of course. 

Hunter had been in the game, of course, because, of course, he had. The cheetah was never one not to pass up a challenge of any sort no matter how stupid it ultimately was. Bianca, of course, had decided not to join in. Which was probably for the best really, because everyone knew that magicians always cheated at things like poker. It was a known fact! And Gallus would totally argue this till Hell froze over because of his little experience with one traveling magician who fancied herself great and powerful. She was probably neither of these things Gallus reasoned, but she was a total cheat and braggart. 

In the back of the room, Cinder stood in this absolutely ridiculous costume of a pointed stocking atop her head with her usual proclamation of: ‘Kiss the cook and die’ on her all too fluffy frilly apron. Nobody comments on the garment, and Gallus suspects the nasty glare Cinder threatened everyone with as soon as she walked in has something to do with this. He wasn’t sure, but it probably had something to do with it. Probably. Actually, everyone now that Gallus thought about it wasn’t wearing stockings correctly at all, everyone wearing them atop their heads in ridiculous manner. 

Which again begged the question… why? Just why would you go to all the trouble to make yourself look like an absolute idiot all for the sake of one holiday? 

Gallus is almost certain he knows the answer but decides not to voice his suspicions in case he ruined it. Gallus would like to be certain he thinks he knows how it goes in this household, but every time something new came along to surprise him. Take the sweaters, for instance. They were ugly beyond belief -not to mention completely flammable- but somehow nobody considers it a crime to wear them. In fact, it’s actually encouraged! He’d heard rumors of this so-called tradition but Gallus had never believed it. At least… not until now when he saw it for himself.

Gallus doesn’t mind, he isn’t sure why as normally he’d never be caught dead wearing such a ghastly thing but he strangely doesn’t mind. Maybe something was wrong with him, he wonders to himself. Maybe he’s finally gone insane, because spending time with the ones he surrounded himself with for friends would probably do that to anyone eventually. Did anyone know if they were insane, Gallus wonders. Did anyone ever truly ever know if they were insane?

In any event, Gallus was currently stuck here for the time being so he supposed he’d better make the most of it. And strangely -though Gallus would deny it if asked- he doesn’t really seem to mind. 

Gallus looks back and sees his sister nearly crying with laughter at some dumb joke someone had told her, and almost smiles. No, he didn’t mind at all. Though he’s still on the fence on about the sweaters and wonders why dragons would even wear such stupid - and did he mention flammable- things. Dragons were often such prideful creatures really.

“Hey, Gallus. How’s it hangin’?” Smolder was the first one to notice his state and laid one of her claws on his shoulder. “Can ya believe this stuff? Lotta mush every time the Blue Moon festival comes round.”

Gallus whirls his head around to face her, trying very hard not to let out a totally not manly shriek of surprise. He catches his breath, the dragoness was like a goddamn ninja! “...How… how do you even know about that? I wasn’t aware Griffon traditions made their way out of the Griffon Kingdoms.”

“Griffon traditions? Gallus. Gallus…” she shakes her head and she playfully tousled the fur on his skull. “The Blue Moon festival’s also celebrated by dragons, ya big doofus. Didn’t ya know about that?”

“...Oh right, sorta this whole tradition sharing thing someone came up a while back, yeah I can totally see it now that you mention it,” Gallus mutters to himself bitterly. “...Trust me though, stick with the Festival of Flame or whatever you call it. Back home, holidays aren’t… well, they’re not fun.”

“Well, duh. Griffons aren’t all about the sappy-happy type stuff. They’re more into hoarding their gold and being miserable piles of meat and feathers.” Smolder, with wings flitting, casually explained. “I mean, yeah, the same could be said about us dragons, but we’ve still got a soft spot for the holidays. I mean, when else do you see us giving each other gifts?”

Somehow Gallus can’t quite imagine this family going out to hoard gold for the sake of hoarding, he thinks to himself as he watches Spyro. It just didn’t fit what he’d seen of this… this goofball so far. For Tiamat’s sake, he was wearing one of those completely stupid stockings atop his head. He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he’d managed to convince his adopted son to do the same. Actually, Gallus knew very well how it happened. Goodness knew Spike pretty much worshipped the ground his father walked on nowadays. And somehow, he knows from the small little ghost of smile cast upon Smolder’s face he knew the dragoness was completely lying when she said she wasn’t into this sort of thing.

“So, Beast Tamers,” Gallus remarks. “How does a holiday in the swamps go, really? No walking in the winter wonderlands, I imagine…” he drawls referring to the all too corny if not somewhat charming song being played over a radio somewhere in the household. The household, which he realizes for the first time, has a reason for being so large and having so many rooms. Spyro had a way of touching those he came across, really. He tries to suppress a smirk as he hears Nestor singing at the top of his lungs in another room just a few corridors away. 

“Well, I assume that it goes just the same as a holiday everywhere else. Just… with a lot more slimy swamp juices.” Smolder tried to put into her own head what a holiday in the swamps would look like. Was it even possible for such messy places to have holidays like that? Given they were mostly inhabited by monsters? Okay, generally monsters of the Beast Maker’s own makings, but still… monsters. Monsters and totally flammable little huts built from timber and moss. 

“Slimy swamp juices?” Gallus quirks an eyebrow before he deadpans: “Hardly illiterate Smol.” 

“Well, what would you call ‘em?” Smolder chided, putting her claws by her hips. She blinks for a moment before she realizes what Gallus had said. “...and HEY! Only one who gets to call me little pet names is my…”

She trails off with an uncharacteristic stutter and blushes. Gallus smirks again. “Your boyfriend?” he finishes.

“Y-you… Baka!” Smolder’s cheeks turned a bright hue of red as she threw her arms down. “He’s the only one who gets to know my pet name!”

“...I wasn’t aware you were interested in things like Neighpon anime,” Gallus remarks and once again the victory is his.

“Nngh…” Smolder couldn’t bear to say anymore. She was embarrassed enough as it was. “Fine. Call me by that name if you want.”

“Who would I be to steal away your drakefriend’s personal cutesy wutesy nickname for you?” Gallus says in response nearly gagging. “You just have a candy cane stuck up your bright orange scaly butt, if you ask me!”

“Hey! Nobody has any candy canes stuck up in any of their places!” Gabby helpfully chimes in to hopefully keep the halls from being decked any more red.

“Please tell me that’s not the way you’re describing it, Gabs.” Gallus shivered.

“You described it that way first, so you have nobody but yourself to blame,” Gabby remarks. “Just sayin’.”

Smolder smirks, and her eyes are twinkling in amusement. She smirks that damnable smirk and says: “Your sister’s got a point, you know. You brought that upon yourself.”

Gallus laughs awkwardly and coughs out: “...so how about that eggnog huh? Brings a bit of spirit to the household, and if you ask me the only kind of spirit allowed should be the kind you drink!”

“Oh please, nobody sane would allow you anywhere near the eggnog, not after that last fiasco which involved you being thrown out on your feathered butt,” Spike says in passing. “Just sayin’.”

“Hey, nobody insults these good looks and lives to tell the tale!” Gallus remarks before gesturing to himself in exaggerated comical fashion. “I mean…. All of this? It’s only something that comes around every once in a generation!”

“...and here I thought it was only Smolder who had the ego…” Spike very wisely mutters under his breath. Gabby fights back a snigger and a little snort at this. How unladylike, Gallus muses, but then again nobody had ever called his sister a lady really. Vaguely, he imagines in some other life his sister and Spike dating. He shares a look with Smolder and figures out very quickly his friend is thinking the same thing. The orange dragoness is clearly displeased by the notion.

“...Oh, bitten by the green-eyed monster Smolder?” Gallus inquires being very careful about the whole thing. A wise decision if there ever was one, given Smolder’s rages were now nigh legendary. 

“...Oh shut up,” she mumbles under her breath. “Spike knows by now that if he even thinks of looking at another dragoness, I’d dump his ass in a second.”

“Not like that’s gonna happen. I mean, you and Spike get along like a village on fire…” Gallus looked out at Spike, who was busy with Spyro partaking in the smells of the food stands wafting up from outside. 

“Got that damn right,” Smolder smirks. “But enough about me. What about you? I mean, surely there’s some fine hen out there who wants… oh, how did you put it? “All of this?”, isn’t that how you put it?”

She smirks victoriously when she sees Gallus turn into a stuttering mess. Finally, the tables had been turned.

“W-Well… I-I… Uh… Yeah, you know how it is!” the normally confident half bird half lion stammers out, cursing himself for his loss of dignity. 

“Yes, I think I do,” Smolder remarks. “...wait, wasn’t there this hippogriff I saw you eyeing a few months ago? Not sure how half bird, half horse, half fish works out, but there you have it. I swear I saw you making googly eyes at her.”

“It’s goo goo eyes…” Gallus mumbles.

“Whatevs,” Smolder waves him off. “You still can’t deny any of it, can you?”

Gallus huffs and crosses his arms. “...she’s called Silverstream and for the record, she’s a very nice girl. Too nice, actually.”

“Too nice?” Smolder asks in confusion. “...how is that a problem? ...Oh, I see, you like bold women, right? Chain-smoking greaser tough girl assholes? Is that it?”

“No, it’s not that,” Gallus continues to mumble uncharacteristically shy. He swears to himself under his breath, goddamnit Smolder. Couldn’t you have left this well enough alone instead of being your nosey self? Seriously! He already knew one gossipy pushy type with his sister, he didn’t need to know another! “It’s… It’s just…”

“Oh, I see…” Smolder says. “You’re worried about the poor boy from a poor family thing, aren’t you? Or you being too much of a bad boy for her, and you being banned from her household in an instance as soon as you step through the door. You and your whole leather jacket greaser routine.”

Gallus goes silent and Smolder knows -damn her, Gallus thinks to himself again- that she’s hit the nail on the head. 

“Well, if all else fails you could just use your status as Spike’s brother in arms and that might win a few approvals, really,” Smolder shrugs and Gallus scowls at her. “Sheesh, just trying to lighten the mood here, really… But seriously, I don’t think wealth and status matter much to a girl if she likes you enough.”

And here Gallus stares. “...and here I didn’t think you had it in you to be smart…” he mumbles after a long silence.

“What? I’m not a complete dolt,” Smolder says smacking him around the back of the head. “...you on the other hand, featherbrain…”

“Cliche comeback book, page 87?” Gallus retorted.

“Like I haven’t heard that one before…” Smolder remarks trimming her claws. “...Okay, I lied, that is a first time for me with that particular remark. Seriously, you’re set for this hippogriff girl. Girls like a funnyman, really.”

“Y-You think so?” Gallus stammers out again. “...Most creatures I know don’t find my jokes all that funny…”

“...then what was that night in the comedy club eh?” Smolder asks inquiringly -eyebrow raised- clearly in no mood for his shit tonight. “Seriously, perk up featherbrain. It’s the holidays, and I’m pretty sure frowns are far from welcome. Especially in this household, really.”

She gestures to the living room and laughter echoes from out of it. Spyro probably making some stupid face or doing some dumb impersonation, and Gallus can see it now. Cinder shaking her head in the background and Nestor laughing uproariously and then trying to outdo his son. If there’s a warm flutter in his heart, Gallus fervently denies such a thing exists. Then he hears a giggle, and that flutter returns threefold. Gabby, of course. Who else could make such merry noises, and who else deserved to make them given Gruff family holidays where everyone was trying not to look at the other in anything other than mild irritation.

“Your family sucks,” Smolder says after a long silence. “Like, they suck balls.”

And Gallus fights back a snort. “...Yeah, the suckage is major.”

“And this grandpa of yours, much as I love to show respect for my elders,” Smolder goes on and Gallus has to fight back a snort -because when did Smolder ever show respect for anyone?- before the laughter returns in earnest at her next statement. “He can go just eat a bag of dicks. A big fat one.”

“And how big do ya want each one?” Gallus smirked snarkily. Smolder blinks for a moment, before she bursts out laughing clutching her sides. Of course, the laughter doesn’t stop when she sees what Gabby and Spyro are up to.

“You’re going down, old man!” Gabby says, clearly not content with beating Byrd tonight. She’s wearing the most bewildering of things, gag spectacles. Probably some gift someone had handed her. 

“Old?” Spyro mouths to a giggling -though she’d totally deny this- Cinder. “...I’m not old, am I?”

Cinder says nothing and Spyro and Gabby and now Spike continue their little game.

“You might say it’s a spec-ality of hers!” Spike jokes. “Well, at least it’s not a contact sport!”

“Oh…” Smolder says in realization. Puns, because, of course, what else would it be? Her goofy, dorky boyfriend and his father would but of course love the so-called ‘art’ of puns. And Gabby, being the child she was, would enjoy them too.

“The bread, at yeast was good tonight,” Spyro says to Cinder who could only roll her eyes good-naturedly. “Remind me to thank your mother.”

“Oh, okay, that pun was just crummy,” Spike grumbled. “You can do better.”

“What, you want me to drive this humor stale?” Spyro snorts and Gallus laughs as well. The holidays in this household were definitely different. They were full of poor jokes and high spirits -in every sense of the word- and tasteless sweaters and so many other things. They were full of ludicrous party games and corny music and half-baked humor -oh good god, now he was doing it- that would probably get stale in a week at any other household.

Raucous spirits reigned in this household and Gallus couldn’t help but love it. 

“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air
What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away…” Came a drunken holler as Nestor led the household in a chorus raising his glass of eggnog to the ceiling. Well, okay, Gallus corrected himself. He loved some of it. Nestor’s singing voice left a bit to be desired.

“It’s loud…” Gallus mutters and shares a look with Gabby who knows what he really means.

“I can imagine Grandpa Gruff is… less than pleased with us skimping out on the Blue Moon Festival this year,” Gabby utters. She still wore those gag glasses, because of course, she still would. Gallus can’t find it in himself to tell her she looks utterly ridiculous. 

“Ah, yes, well…” Gallus remarks. “He can sit and stew this year. We’ll deal with his disapproving looks later, eh?”

A barrel of gray feathers and fur nearly bombard him and soft sniffles and sobs are heard. The gag glasses lay forgotten on the floor. Gallus -not really the best at displaying affection after all- could only awkwardly drape a wing around his nestmate. If anyone sees this little scene, they decline to comment. Maybe the downright dangerous look Gallus shoots has something to do with it. Maybe. Gabby finally looks up at him and wipes away her tears, pleased to see her brother is united with her in opposing their family. Gallus only awkwardly strokes her head feathers and gestures back to the party, before this could get any more awkward than it already was.

“....My grandfather isn’t the best example of griffon society,” here Gallus says to Spike and his inquiring look.

“...Ever think about, you know, emancipation?” Spike murmurs under his breath.

“Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it, more than a few times in fact. Me and my sister,” Gallus replies in turn. “...But really, this isn’t the time or place for such things really. Just… just for tonight, I’d like to forget about my family.”

Spike nods, though his look tells Gallus that they aren’t quite done with this. Because, of course, they weren’t. Gallus, strangely, wouldn’t have it any other way. He did choose Spike as a friend because he knew the little drake would always have his back, and Gallus would always have his.

“Now, about your dragonessfriend,” Gallus says with a grin as here he turns to Spike. “When you going to pop the question? Or are you going to keep dancing around her for the next few decades?”

“Y-Yes well, dragons do live for a long time, centuries with some of them! We still have a while yet,” Spike stutters out. “My dad was unusual, really, with how he courted my mom. Love at first sight? It’s an unusual thing.”

“...Suit yourself, but if you ask me? I think that’s what it is with you and Smolder,” Gallus shrugs. “Just saying. I personally think you’re just chicken, really! So, if you live for centuries or just for decades, love is love. I know this sounds that dreaded of things -mushy- coming from me, but you really like her don’t you? And you made that little promise didn’t you?”

Here they see Smolder eying them suspiciously, and Spike quickly motions for Gallus to silence himself. Gallus snorts and just joins in the festivities even as Garble walks in the door. Someday...
> 12: Proposal
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Town Square was again alight with activity, the hustle and bustle of dragons and visiting tourists bringing life to the streets. Foot traffic and the sound of music from alleyways, the chatter of conversation and the smell of cooked meat wafting into the streets created a warm atmosphere. All of this was null and void of course to our two friendly neighborhood drake and griffon duo, the two engaged in rapt conversation.

“Spike, you’re biting your nails again man,” Gallus said playing the calm intelligent friend to Spike’s nervous wreck. “Honestly, you’re as bad as your father sometimes. Everything will be okay, you got that?”

“Yeah, you say that, but you’re not the one proposing to your girlfriend are you?” Spike babbled. “I mean, what if she turns me down? Oh Tiamat, what if I trip and stumble during the proposal and she laughs and never wants to see me again?”

“Okay, A, you’re more coordinated than that,” Gallus said calmly as he adjusted his jacket. “And B, I’m fairly certain despite all the times you’ve made a fool of yourself-”

“Not helping!” Spike said and Gallus gave him a ‘look’.

“If I may continue?” the griffon asked raising an eyebrow. Looking skywards, he seemed to be saying ‘why lord do you do this to me? Give me a sane best friend’ in plea. “Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnyways, as I was saying I’m fairly certain despite all the times you’ve made a fool of yourself if Smolder hasn’t dumped your ass yet then I think you’re okay. Spike, you’re okay, you know that right?”

“Oh dear Tiamat, what if I trip, fall and then swallow the ring?” Spike said beginning to freak out again. Wordlessly, Gallus handed him a bag to blow into. 

“Well, what goes in has to come out eventually right? We’ll get you some prune juice and watch and wait,” Gallus deadpanned. “Though if you’re asking me to dig for it, well then count me out. Pretty sure Smolder won’t accept a ring like that though.”

“Har har, you’re very funny,” Spike drawled. “Your jokes are the hit of the night!”

“Who says I was joking?” Gallus asked. “Like seriously, if that happens by some rare chance, I’ll grab some prune juice and then we’ll watch and wait for what happens next. I mean, it’s either that or we grab my great grandmother’s mystery soup surprise and make the ring come right back up!”

“...why do I have a feeling I don’t want to know?” Spike asked. “And why do I have the feeling you’re going to tell me anyways?”

“Then you’d be right on the money,” Gallus smirked. “See, greatgrandmammy’s special mystery soup surprise is… well, we don’t know what’s in it but nobody who’s eaten it has ever swallowed it for even five minutes before… Oh, well up it comes!”

“You’re disgusting,” Spike grumbled though if one looked closely, they could see a hint of a smile gracing his features. “Yeah, way to spoil my appetite before the big challenge tonight. You must be real proud.”

“Hey, you were asking for suggestions about what we could do if by some stroke of fate you swallow the ring,” Gallus said with a small shrug. “So, I’m giving them to you. By the way, are you sure a ‘mukbang’ is a good way to start off the night? 

“Well, Smolder loves competition right?” Spike asked with Gallus nodding. “So, the way I figure it, what better way to generate a romantic atmosphere than an eating challenge and then a bar crawl?”

“Well, sounds like a good way to generate a stomach ache and make you look like a fool,” Gallus muttered before perking right back up. “Oh well, I’m in then! Sounds to me like you’re appealing to the true griffon spirit!”

“Is this another one of those ‘I don’t wanna know’ type things?” Spike had to ask. “Because from the sound of it, I don’t wanna know…”

“Oh, yes well, basically back in the Griffon Kingdoms,” Gallus explained. “There’s this sort of best me to bed me type thing going on. You beat me at a challenge, you get to have sex with me, you know?”

“You know, if you’re trying to flirt with me,” Spike said with a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I’m already taken at the moment.”

“Damn!” Gallus returned to Spike, his smile equally wily. “And here I was thinking I could forgo the whole slay a dragon thing and just straight up lay a dragon!”

“Pretty sure Smolder would have other ideas…” Spike said.

“Well, she could join in too!” Gallus joked. “I mean, laying both the Prodigal Son and his mate to be? Imagine what wonders that would do for my reputation!”

“You’re an ego-hound,” Spike deadpanned. “Like, you seriously are.”

“It is one of my many charming qualities,” Gallus said in response. “My ego is world-renowned or at least known throughout all of Avalar. I am Gallus the Great and Awesome after all.”

“Please stop, you sound like that one mare I met in that one marketplace in Shady Oasis,” Spike said with a shudder. “The magician, the one who kept referring to herself in the third person. Like, Tiiiiaaaaaamaaaat…”

“Oh, so I assume you have Post Trixie Trauma?” Gallus asked. “If that’s even a thing. Like, is that even a thing? It is a question we should probably ponder, like one of those riddle for the ages types of things…”

“One must wonder…” Spike trailed off before he screeched to a halt. A glowing neon sign was in front of him, bright red. Their destination was at hand, or… claw really. “Ah, here we are. The Withered Claw. See, I told you we’d find it.”

“Yeah, after you got us lost several times,” Gallus drawled. “I still can’t believe you can’t read a map.”

“Well, I was distracted okay? Normally, I can read a map but then I got to thinking of the so and I mean so many ways this could go wrong. Like, what if me and Smolder both get so sick to our stomachs that I’m left unable to propose?”

“That is a possibility, yeah,” Gallus said, again wordlessly handing his best friend a bag to blow into.

“You’re not funny,” Spike grumbled.

“And that wasn’t a joke.” Gallus returned.





So, there Spike and company were, gathered around a single table. A wood fire crackled in the background, casting a comforting orange glow against the brick walls. Wooden beams clambered up to the ceiling, holding up the framework. A band played on a stage in the far corner of the room, fiddle fire lighting up the room as banjo and lutes provided acoustics. Drinks were doled out and handed off to prospectives, Gallus in particular drinking some strange green bubbling liquid.

When asked he said: “What, I like to be surprised. It’s strange, it’s green, it’s bound to put me in a coma if I drink too much of it. It’s like I’m back home!”

Tantalizingly, two tall stacks of fiery chicken wings sat on either side of Smolder and Spike. The two dragons stared the other down with neither willing to give in, in what had been dubbed the ‘first of hopefully many annual wing-offs where we eat till we drop’. 

...or something like that. Look, some bouncy pink mare with way too much sugar had been in charge of the name. Some newly hired hoof Alvar had found it fit to bring on as a waitress. She was very… peppy, and quick with the joke and even quicker with the orders and receipts. So really, all was well in his little establishment. 

“You’re so going down,” Smolder said. “It’s in my name, Smolder so hello? If anyone’s equipped to handle these piping hot wings it’s me, myself, and moi!”

“Hey, I’m just as much dragon as you are,” Spike said. “So okay boomer, show me what you got.”

“Please tell me you seriously just didn’t make that joke,” Smolder said disgustedly. “I think my respect for you as a drakefriend just dropped a little there. Like, I think I seriously just died a little inside!”

“Boomer, shmoomer,” Spike waved her off dismissively. “You’re going down in every challenge of the night. Wing-offs, bar crawls and anything else I might have devised.”

“Oh puh-leeze, you’re an Artisan,” Smolder said ready to talk smack before the big battle. “You’re weak, you’re puny. Beast Makers on the other hand, well now… that’s a different story!”

“I seem to recall I made the King of All Hogs the first time I went to Beast Makers,” Spike sneered. “So really, I think I can take you down and hold my own against you.”

“Care to put your money where your mouth is?” Smolder asked in turn. “Or in this case, your wings where your mouth is?”

“...My god, it really is like back in Griffonstone,” Gallus muttered. “Only it’s taking longer before one of you jumps the other!”

There was a clapping of paws and the squeak and the squawk of a microphone. Gabby had taken the stage. “Alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll right ladies and gentledrakes. And Gallus.”

There came a sharp “Hey!” which was quickly ignored. Gabby went on… well, a-gabbing.

“As you all know, the rules for the Wing-Off are simple. In front of each contestant there are twenty wings, and whoever gets through them faster in good old fashioned mukbang fashion is declared our winner!” Gabby said as the hype began to build. Cheers began to erupt, with signs for both contestants being held up. Gabby quickly shushed the crowd with a claw, holding it up. “BUT! But there is a proviso. See see, it won’t be as simple as just eating through the wings, oh no! Alvar, the sauce if you please?”

A red claw passed Gabby a bottle of sauce, and like a whirlwind, she was to the table and back. And there slathered in this mysterious sauce -which everybody noted had ‘DANGER!’ written on the bottle- were both piles of wings. “Ah, thank you. This right here is the most dangerous of things, the most dangerous sauce ever devised by drake, gnorc or griffon. The Tiamat Hellfire. This, my friends ranks at a whopping 1,569,300 scorvilles. That, my friends is super science talk for… IT’S HOT! If any of you feel the burn and want to back out now… well, feel free to do so. That is, unless you’re chicken…”

A low ‘ooohhhh…’ spread over the crowd at Gabby’s callout. Gallus began laughing like a fool, and turned to both Spike and Smolder. “Oooh, neither of you can back out now can you?”

“So what’s the diff, we’re dragons right?” Spike asked. “I mean, that’s nothing. This is like low heat, it’s like embers compared to what we breathe out. Hell, you might as well dip this stuff in lava if you want a real challenge!”

Smolder let out a low purr. “Oooh, I like it when my Spikey-Wikey gets all brave and confident. Cocky even! I swear if this wasn’t a competition I’d jump you right here and now…”

“Noted…” Spike squeaked out seeing the lascivious look in Smolder’s eyes. He turned to Gallus and whispered: “...is it too late to back out now?”

“Hey, you devised this challenge,” Gallus said. “You gotta see it through to the end. I mean, going all ‘How to tame your dragonnessfriend’ is nothing to wimp out on if you ask me. Me, I’m just going to be standing here with the milk on standby.”

“What, no ambulances?” Smolder asked.

“Who’s chicken now huh?” Spike asked. 

“Oh, you are so going down…” Smolder glared. “Like, when I eat you under the table you are going to be waiting on me claw and foot for the next week and a half. Hell, may put you into a cutesy-wutesy maid outfit for good measure! With a collar and bell!”

“Kinky…” Gallus said with a chuckle. 

“Okay, okay, you two quit your flirtin’ and start your eatin’! I mean, we all want to see who wimps out first, right?” Gabby asked before ringing the bell. “FIGHT!”

Spike and Smolder drove their claws into the food. The moment their teeth sank into the sauce-drenched meat, that was when the instant regret set in. Despite being brave little dragons, they could feel the overwhelming spice running down their throats. Spike and Smolder were used to fire, that much was true, but with powerful scoville-loaded spice in their system? That was a whole new deal. It was a miracle they even made it through the first piece of food without crying out for mercy.

“Hot hot hot…” Spike whispered taking a sip of some milk. “Tiamat!”

“So… so, I assume you’re calling it quits?” Smolder asked, her mouth and ears smoking from the fire burning inside her mouth.

“Not… not on your life!” Spike said. “You’re going down!”

Gallus blinked as he watched the two go at it. “Remember when these two were about as dense as iridium? I do. It’s like I could walk up to Spyro and say: “I’ve finally found something denser than iridium. Your son.” and just get nods from Cynder and a laugh. ...sigh, sometimes I long for those days.”

Gabby, however, was of a… different persuasion. Already, the little griffon was taking bets from the gathering audience. “Can I have a 1000 on Spike, or is that… OH! A 2000 on Smolder. No,  that’s a 3000, oh a 5000 on Spike! Holy mother of Enlil! 10000! 10000 on Smolder!”

Gallus wiped away a tear from his eyes. “...she’s become a true griffon, I’ve never been more proud…”

Once the two of them felt the power of the first spicy wing begin to fade, they went onto the next one. By now, they had over a million scovilles in their system, but now they were adding even more. The two of them were slightly shaken, but not enough to make either of them want to call it quits. They bravely took the second one and shoved it in their mouths. As they mowed the flesh and sauce off of the bone, they felt the initial surge from before come back, only this time, it was starting to blur up their vision. What could they say? They were not used to eating hot spice.

“And… and you call yourself a dragon…” Smolder said taking a sip of her milk. “You… you can’t handle Tiamat Hellfire? Shame on you…”

“Seems… seems neither can you…” Spike panted out taking a sip of his milk.

Gallus looked concerned… somewhat by this point. Leaning over to Gabby, who had taken a peek over at the proceedings, he asked: “...You know, shouldn’t we… uh… stop them? I mean, as fun as this is, well…”

“They’re dragons right?” Gabby asked, briefly gnawing on a gem she’d netted for herself. “‘Sides, you’ve met them. They’re both stubborn as mules, no offense Bill! Like, this is… uh, basically normal for them. Stubbornesswise, I mean.”

“Sure, sure. But they’re dragons who’ve handled fire before. The sauce on their wings? Totally different story,” Gallus pointed out the Tiamat Hellfire. “See, with hot sauces, it’s not called that because of the heat. It’s fairly cool sauce all things considered. It’s called a hot sauce because of the scovilles, which gives it the flavour making it hot. And it’s way over the million mark for scovilles.”

“I’m not a dummy, dear brother of mine,” Gabby drawled poking him in the chest with a claw. “I know how hot sauce works.”

“That sauce is playing hell with Smolder and Spike’s systems. They might look fine, but with two wings down, it’s likely that they’re beginning to hallucinate; see things that aren’t really there or thing the world around them is turning into water,” Gallus continued his explanation. “Sure, a hot sauce can’t really kill you by any means, but it can still leave you feeling like you’ve just come out of a washing machine on a heavy-duty wash.”

Both looked at Spike and Smolder who glared at them, despite eyes beginning to water up and both shouted: “DON’T YOU DARE STOP US!”

“See, what’d I say?” Gabby said as Gallus took a few nervous steps back. “Stubborn as mules!”

“Would you believe me if I said there were sauces hotter than that?” Gallus lifted a brow. “Hottest I remember seeing was something called ‘Deathwing’s Heart.’ Somewhere around 8,570,000 scovilles or something like that.”

“Don’t give them ideas if you’re that concerned about them…” Gabby muttered as she watched both Spike and Smolder tear into the wings. Neither seemed content with just ‘giving in’ and throwing in the towel. “It’s like rule numero uno when faced with two idiots who would love nothing better than to get an adrenaline rush. Do. Not. Give. Them. Ideas.”

Back at the actual action, Spike and Smolder were just sinking their teeth into wing number four when they felt the effects of too much sauce in their system start. Aside from the fact that they were starting to lose their balance slightly, both Smolder and Spike started seeing characters that they thought for sure had never been there before.

Gabby looked onwards, popped open a bottle of Deathwing’s Heart, drank it all down and belched fire, but looked none the worse for wear. “...Hmm, and Gallus is so worried about this?”

“You’re… you’re a real keeper, you know that right?” Smolder asked taking a very long sip of her milk. “Like… like, there’s nobody else I know who’d do this just for me. You’re crazy, but you’re my kind of crazy!”

“Yes… well…” Spike panted out. “I blame you for all of this, like seriously I do. If I hadn’t met you, chances are I’d have never broken out of my shell. Like, I’d have spent my days as a shy little drakling. I doubt even mom could have helped!”

“Oh, you’ll be crying for mommy in a minute!” Smolder shouted as she downed her next wing, before letting out a shout of: “MOMMY!”

“...Huh, and I thought I was the one who’d be crying for mercy,” Spike remarked as he downed his next wing, right before belching green flame.

Gabby meanwhile had done a ‘1, 2, 3!’ style thing on Smolder, declaring her down and out. Spike was the winner.





Of course, the night was far from over. Next came the sorta slightly less stupid second challenge. The bar crawl. Gallus already had the camera, just to record any and every bit of this for posterity. Gabby, wisely, had brought a second camera just in case Gallus decided to ‘invite himself’ into the challenge. After all, nothing said sisterly love more to her than watching your brother humiliate himself on camera and recording it all for posterity! And, of course, future blackmail.

“So, you crazy kids drink a lot?” Gabby asked as the group of griffins and dragons headed off to their first bar of the night. “Or are you both lightweights?”

“W-Well, I was taken out drinking by dad when I came of age, a-and Smolder here… well, she’s mentioned she’s had grenache and pinot noir…” Spike stammered out.

“I’m sure that’ll be nothing compared to this,” Smolder casually replied as she put her claws behind her head. “All we gotta do here is drink. Nothing too hard, right? And after all those wings, I reckon we’ve earned ourselves a few tankards, eh Spike?”

“Amen to that,” Spike said. “You still lost, like via a landslide you do know that right? Like, I was so content to jump up on top of the table, and shout: “Loser!” to you.”

“I’m still so amazed you weren’t seeing clowns to the left of you, and jokers to the right…” Smolder grumbled. “Also, smugness does not suit you one bit, Spikey-Wikey…”

“Yes, well, after finally beating you at something I think I’ve earned the right to be smug, don’t you?” Spike teased booping Smolder on the nose. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute, otherwise I’d dump your sorry ass right here and now,” Smolder grumbled, though the annoyance didn’t quite meet her eyes. “But all the same, you’re still going down on this little bar crawl of ours!”

“We’ll see…” Spike said. “We’ll see…”

“What’s with you anyways?” Smolder asked. “You’re usually never this competitive, I mean sure you’re competitive but this is like a whole ‘nother level for you…”

“Dragons are competitive by nature, ya big dummy. You should know that by now,” Spike said, as he playfully punched Gallus on the shoulder. “Sides, I want to make up for losing to you for so often by beating you at your own game in one night!”

“Oh, so I’m the big dummy?” Smolder asked. “Well, we’ll see who’s calling who’s who a dummy after I drink you under the table!” 

Gallus chuckled to himself. There was no possible way this could end well for anyone. Oh well, that was what the camera was for! As Spike’s best friend, he was pretty much obligated to crack jokes at his expense and never let him forget stupid moments like this. And to think, all of this was just a lead-up to the main event, the proposal itself.

So came the first tavern, the Rushing Cheetah and in they went.

The Rushing Cheetah, for being a bar set in the dragonlands, was very well-furbished. The floorboards were properly cut and smoothed out, the walls looked very quaint with their stony aesthetic, and there were a few pictures draped on the walls—presumably drawn by some of the dragons from the Artisan realm. There were quite a few creatures in the bar along with Spike and the crew. Some dragons, griffons, and creatures that they had never seen before until now. But the same thing applied to them all; they were drinking, eating, or having a good chat with the other people in their respective parties.

“Three pinot noirs,” Spike said to the bartender, who as it turned out was actually Gavin apparently branching out from coffee to something a little bit stronger. Said dragon was humming ‘Trouble Man’ under his breath, the song playing from a nearby jukebox.

“Comin’ right up.” Gavin was about to turn away when he realized who exactly was ordering. “S-Spike? Well, look at you!” He threw his arms to the side. “Finally got yourself an appreciation for fine drinks, have you?”

“Didn’t know you were branching out to the stronger stuff, Gavs,” Spike commented.

“Ah well, you know how it is,” Gavin said taking a sip of some strange glowing purple drink. “Oh, I remember the days when you just barely came up to my knee! My my, how time has flown! Here you are, drinkin’ the grown-up stuff!”

“He sure has come a long way, Gav.” Smolder ruffled the quills on Spike’s head. “You should’ve been in the plaza earlier. He and I were knee-deep in this insane eating contest.”

“He even won it, for Enlil’s sake!” Gallus added.

“You two are are all kinds of crazy, I swear Spyro’s competition freak nature must have rubbed off on the both of you…” Gavin said pouring the drinks.

“Spyro’s got good taste in games. And we’ve got good taste in Spyro,” said Smolder, before she widened her eyes. Gallus and Gabby shared a look, desperately trying to smother their laughter. Gabby had to check to make sure if the camera was still rolling, she just had to capture that. “N-n-not like that! Just… we really admire the guy, that’s all. I mean, how bold is that dragon, really? All the risks he takes and the danger he puts himself in, it should be criminal.”

“...and here I thought it was just my mom she had a fangirl-crush on…” Spike muttered to himself.

“Well, Spyro is only one of the greatest dragons who ever lived. Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto, the Sorceress, Red, even the Sorcerer. That’s quite a lot of big, bad names that he’s had to tussle with over the years, isn’t it? And he was only a small dragon back then!” Gavin replied as he pushed the drinks toward Spike, Smolder, Gallus, and Gabby. “Anyways, here’s your drinks, you four!”

“Shall we?” Spike said in a challenge to Smolder.

“We shall,” Smolder said with a grin. “CUE THE MUSIC!”

And just like that, a song began to play from the jukebox… “Hail (hail)
What's the matter with your head, yeah
Hail (hail)
What's the matter with your mind…”

And so began the tomfoolery. Drinks flowed, and drinks flowed as the two hopped from bar to bar, with Gabby and Gallus capturing every moment. Well, when I say Gabby and Gallus, I just mean Gabby. As she feared, her brother had decided to ‘join in’. Oh well, she’d have plenty of blackmail material by the end of the night. So all was well. (#SavageGabs, new hashtag by the way. Pass it on!)

By the time that Spike, Smolder, and Gallus had made it out of their fourth bar, the Crooked Barrel, they were already long gone. The drinks had already hit their bellies, leaving behind their dirty work on their minds. The two couldn’t even talk properly without them cackling/slurring like a bunch of drunken hyenas. It made it to the point where any words that did come out of their mouths were entirely cluttered gibberish.

Right now, the threesome were engaged in a -highly off-key by the way- chorus of “Toss a Coin” and of course, this had only just been the least of the madness they’d gotten themselves into. 

Privately, Gabby was lucky there were no Sapphire Shores impersonators for them to get wedded in a Las Pegasus style elope. That surely would have ruined the romance of a good old fashioned proposal. ...though knowing how the night had gone so far, it’d wind up with Spike proposing and wedding his mate to be in the drunk tank.

...And yep, there went the collapse.





Spike awoke with a hellish headache, and feeling woozy beyond belief. He found himself in a gray room, with cell bars on the other end of it. Where was… oh hell. Of course, he’d wind up in the drunk tank. 

Yep, there was Smolder and Gallus, and what was that sound? Laughter? Yep, that was definitely laughter. 

“Oh Tiamat…” came the familiar tones of his mother, and to make matters worse there was Gabby laughing right along with her. Laughing like a pair of hyenas, the two were as if to drive the nail in further. “Neither of you could even make it to closing hour! What a couple of lightweights!”

“H-Hey, so sue us. It was our first bar crawl!” Smolder said blushing red having her idol laughing her ass off at her. Next, she turned to Gabby. “Who won by the way?”

“Well, me really if you want to think of all the blackmail material I’ll be able to hold over you three for years to come,” Gabby said holding up the camera. “You three suck, like really… Honestly, not even making it to closing time!”

“Yes, we’re aware…” Smolder drawled her head still spinning. “Now who won?”

“Who won?” Gabby replied, only for her to chuckle some more. It sounded as if she was barely holding back the ability to fall into outright laughter again. “The three of you ended up flat on your bellies before you even got halfway!”

Spike groaned and let his head hit the wall. “So it was a draw?” he mumbled not really wanting to face Gabby. The smug look on her face didn’t help matters much either.

“Basically, yeah,” Gabby said with a shrug as a guardsman came to unlock the cell door. “Shame really, I was rooting for… well, actually I wasn’t rooting for anyone. I just wanted to sit back and watch the fireworks.”

“...so we gathered,” Gallus grumbled. “You’re a real bitch, you know that right?”

“Love you too bro!” Gabby said. “But really, are you surprised? I’m always the one playing the Chaotic Neutral type in Ogres and Oubliettes.” 

“Yeah yeah, I remember the time you blew up an entire town just to stop the main villain,” Gallus said. “Pretty sure me and the rest of the Party were thinking of banning you from game night after that…”

“Awww, you all just aren’t ready for my awesomeness just yet,” Gabby said patting her brother atop the head. “You’ll see in time.”

“...and I thought I was the one with the ego…” Gallus muttered before he stumbled and quickly regained his balance, his head still all woozy. 

“...I wonder if we should tell him about the stripper pole/weathervane thing?” Gabby asked of Cynder. Gallus swore he must have misheard.

“What’s this about a stripper pole and a weathervane…?” he asked not really sure if he wanted to know.

“Noooooooootttttthiinnnggggg…” Both Cynder and Gabby said with innocent smiles. Gallus wasn’t sure if he should believe them, especially with the way they were holding back sniggers. Here, he leaned over to Spike.

“...You know, you could have chosen a decidedly less embarrassing way for you to propose to Smolder, just sayin’,” Gallus said unknowingly saying this a little louder than he’d meant to. Blame the hangover. “Like, you could have taken Smolder to an aquarium and had two workers swim up to the glass and hold up a sign that said: “Smolder, will you marry me?” Just a thought.”

“...Wait, that’s what this was about?” Smolder asked of Spike and Gallus facepawed upon realization. He was such an idiot. “Y-You were taking me on this grand competition all so you could get me in the mood for a proper proposal?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Spike stammered out. “S-So would yo…”

Smolder closed the distance between them, before eventually pulling away. “That means yes, by the way, you big dummy.”

Spike and Smolder kissed again and eventually the silence was broken by a cry from Cynder.

“I’M GOING TO BE A GRANDMOTHER!”
> 13: There's a Party Here in Artisans...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ooooooooooooh, ooooh, I can’t believe the day is finally here!” Ember exclaimed prancing around like an idiot, her jewelry practically quivering with every movement. The dragoness did a spin and a twirl, before collapsing into a nearby set of cushions.  “Seems like only yesterday we were watching you and Spikey dance around each other like oblivious children!”

“Technically, we were oblivious children,” Smolder drawled giving the frighteningly pink artisan a look. “And how long is this going to take?”

She was currently being covered from head to claw in what looked like… paint. Well, it wasn’t actually paint but something from Manipuri. Or whatever. Ember called it mehndi, and for what seemed like an eternity she and a friend of hers had been painting it on Smolder. Ember had gotten hers on a few days before, and was covered in very intricate swirls and various other designs. Ember had mentioned something about the mehndi having medicinal properties but by this point Smolder had really stopped paying attention.

“As long as it needs to,” Ember’s friend, a Manipuri-hailing pony called Saffron Masala said. Smolder didn’t know how the two had met, though she suspected Ember was getting certain fabrics from somewhere. “Roam wasn’t built in a day and you, my dear, must look your best. Now I know you dragons are big on tradition, but that doesn’t mean you can’t add a few new traditions. Besides, you are marrying an artisan dragon are you not?”

Smolder nodded. “Yes, but… Oh, okay, I see where you’re going with this.”

“Dress to impress, or in this case paint to impress,” Saffron continued, the glow of torchlight illuminating her work. The sun was barely up yet over the bogs of the Beast Makers, but today held plenty to do, so it was best to get started early. “From my perspective, I believe the wife of an artisan dragon must look like an artisan dragon. At least while you two are on your honeymoon.”

Ember giggled at this. “Oh, Spike won’t be able to keep his hands off you when he sees you!” she remarked. “Trust me, by the time Saffron is done, I can promise you that! You’ll be in for a night of passion. Well, several nights actually!”

Smolder swallowed at this, ah yes. That. She was so many kinds of antsy about tonight. Okay, yeah, neither of the two had exactly been… discreet about their relationship -dragons would be dragons after all- but this was different. This was going to be their first night as married mates. 

“Just don’t do anything I would do!” Ember chirped.

“Isn’t that supposed to be don’t do anything you wouldn’t do?” Smolder asked. “Yeah, you’re a real role model.”

“Oh, trust me, give it a bit of time and you’ll be ready for pleeeeeeeeeeennnntyyy,” Ember said. “But I’m more worried about you pulling a muscle, as trust me some of the things me and Flam-”

“Oh, okkkkkkkkkkkkayyyyyyyyyy, I so don’t not need to hear about that,” Smolder replied, rather disgusted. “Just no. In so many ways, just no.” 

“Suit yourself,” Ember said with a small shrug. “I mean, after a bit of practice I’d think you’d be ready for just about anything.”

“...I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation right now,” Smolder grumbled to herself. All the while, a very heavily blushing Saffron continued applying her work. “Like, wow, you’re shameless!”

“Just sayin,” Ember shrugged again. “I’ve got plenty of books on how to lead a healthy and happy relationship.”

“There’s more to a relationship than just sex, you do know that right?” Smolder drawled.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that,” Ember winked. “But trust me, the sex helps.”

Smolder facepalmed before deciding to change the subject. Just in case things somehow got even more awkward than they already were. Smolder didn’t know how they possibly could, but life tended to surprise her with things like that. “Er, Saffron, you are aware of a certain dragon tradition right?”

“Oh, the Blackening of the Bride?” Saffron asked, her accent heavy and thick. “Oh yes, I’m quite aware. Horrendous, humiliating tradition.”

“Actually, it’s supposed to represent if couples can make it through being paraded around town in smelly fish guts, they can make it through anything,” Smolder replied, little solar flares painted around her eyes. “But yeah, that. I’d hate for all of your hard work to be ruined by all of that.”

“Oh, not to worry!” Saffron giggled. “I’ve already thought ahead, me and Ember both did. With her input, and a favor called in from a friend I was able to add a bit of magic to this mehndi. No matter what you do, no matter what you’re covered in, it won’t come off. So yes, they can toss the smelliest fish guts, the most curdled milk and spoilest of curries on you, and this will not come off. Helps to know ponies, and one very beauty-loving dragoness.”

“Hey, keep those compliments coming and I may just let you try on my new fall lineup,” Ember said. “Because trust me Saffron, I’ve got a few dresses that I’d think you’d look absolutely wonderful in. Who knows, might finally get you married off!”

“Oh, I don’t need a dress to get me married off, thank you very much,” Saffron retorted. “I’ve found the truest way to a stallions’ heart is through his stomach!”

“Saffron runs the Tasty Treat up in the Evening Lakes,” Ember informed helpfully. “Oooof, some of the spices they use…”

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle bhut jolokias,” Saffron sniped. “And you call yourself a dragon! I thought heat was your thing!”

“Yes, um, well my ‘thing’ was off on that day,” Ember sputtered, flushing a bright red. “It happens! Besides, I wasn’t expecting it. You surprised me.”

“I did no such thing!” Saffron replied rather affronted. “You said you wanted the hottest spices I had on offer, and I warned you... Yet you went ahead and ate them anyways. I swear, some of you dragons are just completely crazy.”

Smolder just threw back her head and laughed.





“Enlil…” Gallus said his eyes darting left and right as the party began to get underway. Already, tankards were being passed around as traditional folk music began to play. Fiddles and bagpipes played in the background as Nestor led the castle in a rousing chorus of a song about a bog and some other things. Gallus really hadn’t caught most of it.

“Now in that hole there was a tree; a rare tree and a rattlin' tree
Tree in a the hole; hole in the bog and the bog down the valley-o…”

It was a perfect amount of nonsense really, no amount of sense to the song. But that probably wasn’t the point really, no the point was just to get everyone jumping, jiving and wailing. Or at least, that’s how the old song went. Gallus knew, he just knew everyone would have hangovers by the next morning, but then again dragons weren’t known for their common sense when it came to this type of partying. They just thought of partying for partying’s sake. Were all big events this insane, or was it just weddings? Gallus betted on the former, honestly, given he’d heard the Year of the Dragon was like this from Spike.

“Speaking of the guy, where is our lucky drake?” Gallus had to wonder as he pulled himself away from a dance with a fairly attractive young kirin. Leaving her his spell number, the griffon fussed with his suit and groaned to himself. Penguin suits, honestly. “He’s missing all the fun!”

Eventually, he found Spike at what was basically the dragon version of hot springs. Except, you know replacing the hot water with boiling lava. Both he and his father, along with some of Nestor’s friends -was that a watermelon?- were lazing back in the broiling liquid. “...You know that’s probably a safety hazard right?”

One of the dragons grabbed a nearby watermelon and bit into it. “...well, to be fair,” Argus said. “I’m not entirely sure these were designed with griffons in mind.”

“It’s racist, it’s what it is!” came a female voice and for the first time Gallus noticed the kangaroo. Like, how did you miss that? A kangaroo with a notepad in hand amongst a hoard of dragons was one of those things that sorta stood out. “Where do you guys even get the lava anyways?”

“Eh, we had a friend in the Magma Cone mountains reroute some here a couple odd years back,” Argus replied adjusting himself, and sinking further in the liquid. “Worked wonders, I’d say.”

“Yeah, if you’re a dragon,” Sheila said with a roll of her eyes. “The rest of us have to wait till you guys install some traditional Bullzantines Baths!”

“Those are on the way,” Argus conceded. “I think Nestor’s planning them as his next ‘big’ project.”

“HAH!” Gallus cried triumphantly to Spike. “I told you they were Bullzantines! Not Griffish!”

“...do I even want to know?” Spyro murmured as he leaned over to his son. Spike shook his head in a ‘not really’ manner.

“So, why are you here?” Gallus had to ask of Sheila. “I mean, I get you’re a friend of Spyro’s, or at least that’s what I heard but… This is sorta a dragon thing isn’t it?”

“And yet you’re here, blue boy,” the kangaroo teased in return. 

“I’m the best man, so I have a right to be here,” Gallus replied. “Now if this was Spyro’s wedding, I can imagine you being here but why Spike’s?”

“Hey, he’s Spyro’s son meaning I’m his auntie,” Sheila replied. “Plus, it allows me a really interesting chance to study dragon rituals and the like.”

“Didn’t you study dragon weddings at my wedding?” Spyro asked quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, a girl can never have too much information can she?” Sheila asked. “Research never rests as I always say!”

“She was Cynder’s jill in waiting and even back then she was still researching…” Spyro muttered to Gallus with a chuckle. 

“Research never rests,” Sheila repeated. 

“So I gathered…” Gallus drawled. “Wait wait, back up, I thought dragons couldn’t handle lava? I mean, I’ve seen some getting their asses all roasty toasty. Like, I saw this one once who sat himself down in lava, or tried to and went flying sixty feet high hollering like hell itself.”

“Fizzle?” Spike asked and Gallus nodded.

“Fizzle, yeah that’s who it was,” Gallus replied. “...so, uh, why aren’t we checking you all into the burn ward right about now? Didn’t know dragons even had or needed a burn ward, but apparently they do.”

“Oh, uh yeah…” Spyro explained. “Thing is, dragons start with softer scales and they steadily harden as the years go by. Eventually, it takes quite a bit to smash through them, like say enchanted weapons. You ever wonder why Scale Hunters are so… sadly successful?” he asked and a moment of silence followed.

“Oh… Oh, I see,” Gallus murmured, really trying not to think about it at all. Considering that there were plenty of things to talk about upon one’s wedding day, he doubted Scale Hunters were at the top of the list. For so many reasons. Like, for so many in this family. “Well, that took a dark turn real fast didn’t it? Like, going from 5 to 150 there really…” 

Spyro looked especially embarrassed with himself and cleared his throat with a cough. “...right, I suppose I did do that there, didn’t I?”

“So…. annnnnnnnnnyways, now tell me about this whole Blackening of the Bride thing. I mean, uh, tossing anything and everything disgusting at the bride and groom? I thought you’re supposed to look good on your wedding day!” Gallus asked quite confused.

“Ah, yes, that,” Spyro said with a snort. Slipping further back into the lava with a contented sigh, he continued “It’s a bit of an old tradition really, sorta goes back centuries. Long before I was even born, apparently it’s this sort of test of strength.”

“Oh yes, what greater way to start off a lifelong commitment by getting covered in egg,” Gallus drawled.

“That’s the whole point actually,” Argus explained taking another bite of his watermelon. “See, marriage is supposed to be a really difficult thing. The way the elders thought it, at least if you ask my great-uncle Volteer is if you can make it through this, you can make it through anything.”

“Plus, it’s an excuse to toss something disgusting on someone if you really hate them, right?” Gallus asked with a smirk.

“...Er, yeah, that too.” Argus returned with an equally devilish smirk. “Oh, let me tell you when my great grandfather, the old codger, married just about the whole realm turned up. Nobody was more pleased to see him get humiliated than at that moment.”

“...sometimes I wonder about you guys,” Gallus chuckled before looking at Spike. Spike, for some reason, suddenly began to feel very nervous. And not without reason, as it turned out. “Spike, I love you bro, but you’re going to get pelted with fruits and vegetables. Like, a lot of them!”

“I’m well aware,” Spike muttered. “I saw Byrd and his hummingbirds practicing divebomb maneuvers. Divebombing maneuvers!”

“...May have to see if I can get this whole thing into Griffonstone,” Gallus murmured to himself. “Goodness knows there’s enough ‘love’ to go around for everyone. Pretty sure the day Gruff marries -perish the thought, I pity the bride- everyone would love to see that happen to him.”

“Knowing you, you’d take a chance to toss rotten eggs at him any day of the week,” Spike drawled.

“Eh, yeah. You know me too well, Spike!” Gallus said nooging the drake’s head scales even as Spike climbed out of the lava. “So, marriage. Big step for you and Smolder. Think you can handle her?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing well so far haven’t I?” Spike asked even as the two returned into the main castle foyer. “I mean, we haven’t killed each other yet so-TIAMAT!"

Gallus was forced to cover his ears just as the bass dropped. At the other end of the room was Flame and Bentley manning a turntable and mixing tunes. “Yeah yeah, DJ Bentley in the house! With the grace of a morning peacock, I bring down the latest tunes, for show!”

“...I never knew he had it in him, and to be honest I’m not sure if I ever wanted to know…” Spike uttered. “Where’d he even get that jacket? Are those… spangles? Like, sparkles and spangles?”

“I’ll tell you where he got it, out of his closet,” Gallus muttered. Spike had to suppress a snort. “Like, I’m sorry if I’m being stereotypical but it’s a known fact all gays are into theatre. And that one right there is so deep in denial he’s right in Somnambula!”

“Watch those jaws drop, put on the attitude at full stop! I genuflect to the beat!” Bentley went on, the yeti stirring up quite a crowd.

“If you want my opinion?” Spike asked. “He should stick to poetry.”

“Probably,” Gallus said in agreement. “I’m trying to think of how this could possibly be any worse, and really struggling. Well, I guess I suppose…”

It then ‘just got worse’ when the lights went out, and the crowd let out a groan.

“...that could happen?” Spike offered, Gallus nodding in the dark.

“....amazing, not even 7:00 and we already killed the power. Took us till 4 in the afternoon when I was getting married.” Spyro grumbled. Spike got the distinct feeling his father was massaging his temples.

“Well, look at the bright side. At least we don’t have to listen to that Enlil-be-damned noise anymore…” Gallus remarked.

“Eh, fair point!” Spyro conceded. Eventually, after calling in a few favors and kicking the DJ booth to the curb, the party resumed. Cynder eventually showed up, with a few of the Peace Keepers in tow. Currently, they were regaling the others with past stories of former glories, as warriors often did. Maximos in particular was… well, that’s not the point is it?

“So, Sunny Villa for the honeymoon eh?” Gallus asked. “Maaaaaaaaaaaaan, talk about lucky. I am seriously jealous of you right now, like you know that right?”

“For the honeymoon location or me getting married?” Spike asked.

“...well, when you put it like that…” Gallus trailed off.

“Well, there was this hippogriff from Mount Aris who was giving you the goo-goo eyes. Silver… Silver something or other. I didn’t get her full name,” Spike said as Gallus’ eyes widened. “Just saying. But yeah. Sunny Villa. It was either that or Spooky Swamp. Smolder said it reminded her of home.”

“Her home has everyone speaking in haikus?” Gallus asked.

“Yeah, we took that off the table almost instantly, just because of that,” Spike admitted. “Smolder loves the swamps, but not that much.”

“Well, I suppose you could honeymoon in the Beast Makers swamps but I think that kinda defeats the point doesn’t it? Like, to get away from it all for a few weeks?” Gallus asked before turning as he spotted a most interesting sight. “...wait, isn’t that Smolder’s uncle? Bubba, right?”

Spike turned and saw the massive dragon crying a new river. He then turned back to Gallus and said: “...I think he always cries at weddings.”

Garble, nearby, was looking rather embarrassed. His mood didn’t exactly improve when Spyro walked up.

“So, we’re officially related now…” Spyro’s former rival said.

“Yep.” Spyro replied.

“Yeah, just so you know? This doesn’t change a thing. We’re still rivals, and I still think you suck.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Spyro replied.

“Yep,” Garble returned. “Suppose I’ve have to put up with you every holiday season now won’t I?”

“Yep.” Spyro replied. 

“Joy,” Garble muttered. “Oh well, if it’s what Smolder wants… I’ll happily sacrifice any dignity I have for her. Even if that means spending time with you.”

“Oh, I thought you did a good job with that by yourself.” Spyro said and Garble looked about ready to throw a punch. Or Spyro through a wall, whichever came first. Both then descended into laughter as Cynder and Spike just stared.

“I’ll never understand those two…” they thought.





Gallus tapped his glass with a claw, and all eyes were on him. He rose from his seat, clearing his throat. “So, I’m not very good with words, but I do have something to say. Spike. It seems the other day when I first met you. Ya know, when you were running around like a sheep with its fur on fire? Good times, really. But I’m not one to judge the past. Fact of the matter is, you were a real wimp who’s changed since then.”

“...so is this you just going to be just insulting me or is there a point to this?” Spike asked.

 “I’m getting there, kid. Cut me some slack. Griffons aren’t really the mushy-feelings type.” Gallus cocked a brow. “Anyways. That happened. But look where you are now. Marrying one of the feistiest dragonesses I’ve ever seen. Smolder? You take good care of him. Tiamat knows he needs it when he gets older. And Spike? Congrats, bud. Here’s to you.”

He raised his glass and the others followed suit. Spike just looked sheepish. “...so you can be sweet after all.”

“Oh, me, sweet?” Gallus asked. “Now you’re just insulting me bro. After all, I’m not just here warm y’all’s hearts. Oh no, it's my job as your best friend to embarass you isn’t it? And trust me, I’ve got plenty of stories to share.”

“Can’t wait to hear ‘em, Gal,” Smolder gave him a wink. Spike was still trying very hard not to faint from the sight of her, all decorated in intricate mehndi designs. Saffron had really done her work, it seemed. “After all, it’s my job as his mate to embarrass him.”

“This is gonna be a long reception, isn’t it?” Spike asked himself, letting that sink in.

“Take it from me, son,” Spyro murmured. “They mean well, they do but really, if you can make it through this, well… I think you can handle marriage just fine.”

“If you say so, dad.” Spike had to take Spyro’s words with a grain of salt. Gallus and Smolder were still young, so what came out of their mouths, he couldn’t guess. He just had to hope and pray that he didn’t die of the impending embarrassment.

“You remember when Spike and I did that high-dive into those lava pits?” Smolder asked, “Ya know? The ones just on the edge of the Badlands?”

“Yeah, I getcha. I still remember having to give him that push to get him off the board.” Gallus’s smile came back. “Remember that, Spike? It was harder to get you off of that board than to get you on it.”

“Hey, I don’t like heights okay?” Spike called. Just about everyone knew this was bullshit, as he was a dragon, and oh yes did I mention a dragon? “I was getting vertigo!”

“Excuses excuses, and don’t say it was because you were afraid of lava either,” Gallus snarked. “Because we all saw you getting a lava bath earlier. But yes, really, this all happened by the way. Anyways, me getting to be the best man and delivering the speech? Yeah, I considered it an honor. Took me a few minutes, I’ll admit to actually understand what he was asking of me. I honestly never expected it. I was hoping I’d get it, but I never expected it.”

“He’s downplaying the experience,” Spike whispered to his mother, who had to hold back a snort. “I know for a fact that he was so sure of himself getting the honor, I almost considered giving it to Gabby. And she’s a hen!”

“In any event,” Gallus went on. “I said to him, I’d take on this task with the same amount of bravado that I take to my daily life. ...and yes, I did look in a dictionary for some of these words. What of it?” 

A few sniggers came from around the table. Gabby let out an out and out bark of laughter. The rest of the table soon followed and descended into laughter themselves with what followed next. “...It only later occurred to me that I’d said absolutely none of this aloud. Weddings are, quite frankly in my opinion rather pointless. I mean, they’re just another excuse for you all to party. I mean, we know you love each other, we got that. Hell, get a Sapphire Shores impersonator and elope, probably has about the same effect anyways. Less time wasted in the end really, and you can all get on with your new lives together. The point I’m trying to make is this simply, I’m one of the rudest and downright obnoxious assholes you could ever have the misfortune to meet. Anybody could agree to that right?”

There were a few murmurs around the table from this. Gallus muttered to himself: “...well, you all didn’t have to agree…” 

He went on. “So really, if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be someone’s best man, it’s because I didn’t actually expect to be anyone’s best friend. I come from practically nothing, and come from one of the rudest kingdoms in Avalar. Nobody wants anything to do with a juvenile delinquent punk. And yet Spike, you did. You took me in as your best friend, brother in arm. Maybe you’re just unbearably naive, or maybe not. But the point is, you changed me. Smolder, when I say you deserve this drake, you deserve this drake. Like, you really do. Our lives would have been all the poorer had Spike not walked into us, quite literally in my case. So know this, today you sit between the dragoness who loves you, and the griffon who considers you his brother. Be proud, and be happy!”

And as soon as he finished his speech, a loud round of applause was soon to follow…





And then the main event commenced, the ultimate test of a couple’s strength. The Blackening of the Bride and the Groom. And a certain someone was ready to make sure everyone knew it.

“Allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllriiiiiiiiiiiighhhhhhhhhhhtttttt,” Agent 9 called as he leaped atop a table. The little chimp had a devilish smile that was only matched by Gallus’ own. “You all know what time it is. I know what time it is, they know what time it is! It’s time to see just how disgusting we can get, in the ultimate challenge of personal humility! Yeah, that’s right ladies and gents, it is time for the BLACKENING OF THE BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIDDDDDEEEEEE!”

“Take aim…” Byrd said as he and his squadron soared and zoomed overhead, the sound of fighter craft filling the air with a loud buzz. “And fire!”

And just like that, tar and rotten egg was splattered all over the happy couple. And happy they were, actually. Both were getting good looks at themselves and laughing like fools at how stupid they really looked. Of course, disgusting things weren’t the only things tossed at Smolder and Spike, gems were contributed for their own personal hoard. In theory, this was supposed to help pay for the couple’s later lives together, and really, was anyone complaining? I mean, free gems and jewels and the finest gold.

Of course, this humiliation and hazing was far from over, as really it didn’t just stop at Nestor’s personal castle. Oh no, the tradition was for both bride and groom to be paraded around town and everyone getting in on the fun. There was a variation where the two were tied to a tree and pelted but only the best for these two. Of course, that depended on your definition of best but that was neither here nor there. 

“Living the dream, isn’t it?” Spike drawled as rotten lettuce was tossed at his head. Then with a ‘splat’ egg hit his face. “...Ugh, glad us dragons don’t bother with tuxedos and all that. The rental company would haaaaaaaaaate us.”

“Pretty sure if dragons did bother with tuxedos,” Smolder returned as she was covered with tar and rice. Curdled milk splashed her soon after. It was all generally very disgusting, even if it was meant to be in good fun. “They’d make them with this little tradition in mind. Well, I suppose it could be worse. I could be in a wedding dress, you know like the ponies do? Then I’d look truly ridiculous.”

“You already do,” Spike deadpanned and Smolder was forced to concede his point.  “But if it helps, I suppose I could lick you clean…”

“Oh, you are bad…” Smolder purred as the parade made its way down towards the town square. Once again, Byrd and company dive bombed them with rotten eggs. Smolder caught an emerald and then a ruby, and began nibbling on the ruby. It would have been more lascivious in manner had Smolder not looked so completely disgusted covered in slime as she was. “...Oh, for Tiamat’s sake, I can’t even be sexy covered in all of this!”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Spike murmured as he leaned close to kiss her. “I think you’re plenty sexy as it is, managing to tough it out through all this…”

“You dork…” Smolder mumbled as she kissed him. Both soon pulled away, spitting away tar and sludge. “GAH! Oh, I’m going to kill Gallus as soon as this is all over!”

“Well, I can see him over there coming around for another pass if you want to…” Spike started before sniggering. “Get some revenge?”

“Oh, you know it!” Smolder grinned. With that, they both picked globs of sludge out of their scales. With a mighty toss to give a certain Babe Ruth envy, Gallus was down and now covered wingtip to wingtip. Smolder and Spike looked at Gallus, and then back at themselves before falling over in laughter. Smolder punched the air. “Anddddddddddddd strike three, he’s out!”

“Now who’s the dork?” Spike asked, with his eyebrow raised.

Smolder blushed through her scales. With a little gentle shove, she muttered: “Oh shaddup…”

Then Spike’s eyes widened as he saw Argus. “LOOK OUT, INCOMING MELONS!”

SPLLLLLLLLLLATTTTTTTTTTTT!

Eventually, the fun was over and the night wound down. With a potion tossed over them -as so not to anger the lions of Sunny Villa- the two newly weds were now clean as a whistle. Evening had fallen over the little town, painting the cascading hills with oranges and reds. 

Smolder was decorated in only the finest gems, the sunset making her entire body practically glow. Spike felt his stomach clench before he relaxed as Smolder pulled him into a soft kiss, wings wrapping around him like a blanket. With a soft giggle, Smolder was pulled back into the sheets. 

“So, do you think I’m sexy now?” she asked breathlessly as she released Spike, one of her hands tracing his jawline. With a grunt, he flipped their positions as Smolder let out a purr. “That’s a yes then?” 

Several quick kisses stolen away in the evening light later and Spike finally answered. “Well, I can create a questionnaire, poll the people. See what they think…” He murmured, fireflies beginning to gather outside their villa window.

“You’re such a dork,” Smolder muttered to herself.

“But I’m your dork,” Spike said booping her on the nose. Smolder laughed, swatting him gently. 

“I take that back, you’re an idiot,” Smolder said kissing him again. She swatted him, though this time with her tail and on his behind. “Now, don’t you have something you should be doing? Like, you’re keeping a girl waiting here. I mean, I haven’t got all night!”

“Oh, but I thought we did, mate of mine?” Spike asked testing the word as it ran across his lips. He found that he liked it. 

“Well, if that’s the way you want to play it…” Smolder said, her voice turning to a soft sigh as she turned out the lights. Several more sighs followed, and after that? Well, I’ll just leave it to your imagination.
> 14: Oh, the times they're a-changin'...
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time passed, and with it came new situations for Spike and Smolder.

“Hi mom, it’s me again,” Spike said in front of his mother’s grave again. Years had passed since he married Smolder, and he’d grown stronger. His wings had reached their full expanse, and his body now rippled with muscle. He was long and lean, like some large cat built for speed. “It’s been a while, I know. But things have happened, things you wouldn’t believe. Right… so, well remember when I came here last? Of course you? How could you forget?”

Spike chuckled.

“Well, Gallus got married to that hippogriff he’s been pining over for years. Really, I suppose it was mutual pining. There was this whole blackening of the bride thing, I was rather enthusiastic at the whole deal. Meant I could dish out some well deserved revenge to the guy after my own wedding. Fair’s fair right? Of course, we got drunk… again, and Gabby got herself even more blackmail material. Well, at least this time we made it to 3:00 in the evening before we passed out. Night was a bit of a blur, honestly. Pretty sure I did some pretty stupid shit.”

Spike smiled fondly in remembrance. 

“I’m a father now, or I’m going to be very shortly. I remember the last time I came here, I was a nervous wreck. I knew I was going to be caring for eggs but I didn’t know much else. Is it a stereotype, the whole nervous father deal? Probably is. In any event, yeah I’m a fair bit more confident now. I’ve got my own father to take after. Just gotta do what dad did… Okay, yeah, he didn’t raise me from egghood like you guys, but he kept me on the straight and narrow. He’s a good dad, well granddad now I suppose.”

Spike smiled again, yeah his dad was a bit of a goof but he knew what he was doing. 

“I… yeah, I can’t believe how fast life’s moved on since you passed and I got adopted. It seems like only yesterday that I was putting you in the ground. Now… I’m about to be a parent myself! It’s… yeah, wow. I’m married, my best friend’s married, I’m about to be a father and I’m a Beast Maker in training. Swamps aren’t exactly my favorite place to hang out, but I suppose there are worse places to live. I mean, once you get past the humidity, the flies and the wild boar -yummy!- it’s actually not that bad. Word to the wise though, careful with your house. Wood’s wood and… well, needless to say, it doesn’t mix with flame. Am I rambling? Yeah, I’m rambling, aren’t I?

Spike was now watching the sun set over the cliffs and canyons, the sun reflecting off his horns and spines. The passing of a day, the passing of an age. In a few hours, a new day and a new age for him. He chuckled, wow he didn’t know he could get quite so poetic.

“Mom was disappointed, I guess, that she didn’t get to be the one to watch her son follow in her footsteps. But I’m just not interested in being a Peace Keeper. Seen too much violence in my life. I want to give back to the world this time, and create a bit of life here and there. Y’know?”

Spike sucked in a breath even as a portal opened behind him. 

“Thanks for listening to me again, mom. I’m glad I have someone to talk to. If only you were here to see this for reals…”

With that, he was gone again. He was immediately hit by a blast of humidity, the air sticky and heavy with it. A low glow illuminated the darkened hut, bird calls coming from somewhere out in the swamps. Fireflies danced outside, as soft rain pitter-pattered atop the hut’s rooftop. Outside was a castle, long since abandoned. 

Well, at least that’s how it used to be. Even now, small flickers of illumination were visible from the highest tower. There used to live a wizard in this castle, one who kept the local residents in a state of fear. Now it’s new owner was far more benevolent, if not still sorta grumpy. 

The swamps were hardly lonely, isolated as they were from the rest of the Beast Makers realm. So isolated, you had to take a portal just to get there. Coming in from the treetops wasn’t adviseable, really given how thick the treeline actually was. You were likely to get your limbs tangled in tree branches and vines if you even attempted such a feat. And trust me, getting pulled out by the local siren was frankly a blow to the pride. 

Honestly, Spike hadn’t known when Sonata Dusk moved in. But she added some local color to the swamps, her singing voice heard early in the evening and early in the morning. She was a bit of a gossip, but nobody really minded. She was… infectiously fun in certain ways. Even if Smolder hadn’t figured it out yet, and the fireflies were a bit spooked of her. 

Well, to be entirely fair, if your swamps were paying residence to a massive sea serpent and you were about only a few feet tall… you’d be a bit spooked as well right? But really, she was harmless. Made a good neighbor, and she kept the alligators and piranhas under control. So it was a win-win scenario all around right?  

“Pleasant eventide
A warm firefly flies
beyond the dragon.” Spike uttered as he returned home, small candles illuminating his way. A gift from the locals to welcome him to their swamps. He sighed, oh right. There was that little piece of enchantment in the air. For whatever reason, Spooky Swamps had this odd bit of magic about it, causing you to speak in haiku about two to three times a day. It made for… well, it made for some interesting conversations to say the least.

He cast a glance outside, Sonata leaping out of the moat waters snatching an alligator off the shorelines. Her maw was soon caked in mud and blood.

Well, okay, Sonata was a mostly pleasant neighbor but some of her table manners left a bit to be desired.

“Steamy eventide
A huge, bloody serpent eats
the alligator.” Spike recited and sighed. Sometimes this place really grated upon the nerves.

The morning was just as steamy and humid as the prior evening. Spike found himself stretched out across the floor, wings lying at his side. With a groan, he pulled himself up off the floor and strode through the house. 

He was surprised to find that like last night, Smolder was nowhere to be found. A brief moment of panic overtook him. His mate… his mate, where was she? Could the Scale Hunters have gotten to her, snatched her while he was out? No, no, enough of that. She was fine, she had to be. The gnorcs hadn’t been seen in a decade and a half, and the Scale Hunters were a nightmare of the past.

A sound like a low bellow rang through the air, and Spike looked outside. Already, Sonata was up and about, her humming filling the air. Her melodic song brought life to the swamps, creatures joining in with their own tunes. Spike, for a moment however brief found himself listening in. Then he was reminded that Smolder was missing.

“Worrisome morning
A pregnant mate missing
A singing siren,” Spike recited and swore profusely. At any other time, he would have been amused about how the latent magic in the air made the swears into a rhyme. But not right now.

“Language!” Sonata chided wagging her flipper. She poked her head inside the castle, her fluke splashing the murky waters below. “You know, I was having a perfectly pleasant morning until you had to ruin it!”

Somehow, Sonata was immune to the latent enchantment. Maybe it was her powers of sirenhood, -was that even a word?- making her naturally lyrically inclined.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Spike mumbled. 

“Oh, Smolder knew you’d be coming back late,” Sonata said rolling over onto her back and resting up against the castle wall. She waved a flipper dismissively. “She said for you not to worry, as she knew you would. She’s just visiting the family out over in Treetops, that’s all. She said for you to take several deep breaths, and not panic.”

“Thanks ‘Nata,” Spike said. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, probably worry yourself half to death?” Sonata said. “I mean, I’ve heard it’s a thing. You should have seen my Uncle Phil. He was a worry-wort to the extreme. Oh yeah, sure he was a satyr but he was still my uncle you know. And qualified nervous wreck!”

“Solitary fort
A calming serpent rambles
watching the dragon.” Spike recited and Sonata giggled.

“Hey, you’re getting pretty good! One of these days, who knows, you may be able to give Garble a run for his money!” Sonata jingled. Spike could only groan.





Though really, life nowadays wasn’t all just fretting over where your wife was and learning how to control your Beast Makers abilities. Oh no. See, as it turns out there were lands beyond that of the dragon realms. Take, for example, say Equestria. A world where the Sun and Moon followed their own laws and magic practically buzzed in the air. Spike, the first time he stepped onto the continent felt it in his bones and rushing through him like a hurricane. He nearly doubled over just because of how much of it there was. It was swimming in magical power. 

But there was something more, something else. Something he could never quite put his finger on. Everyone was so naturally friendly, compared to dragons who at times would rather be left well enough alone.

Spike had met Equestrians before, such as that time with Trixie but… but this was different. This was something else. Here he was sitting on their front porch, in their garden and invited into their home like a guest. It was… very odd. But turns out, there was a reason they were so friendly. It wasn’t because of his father, or at least his adoptive one. It was because his flesh and blood parents were apparently born and raised in Equestria by their Princess of the Sun two to three hundred years ago. 

To see their prodigal son return, in a manner of speaking, was… well, it was like his parents had come back from the dead really. And Spike hated every minute of it. He didn’t want to be known for his parentage. He’d gotten enough of that crap being known as Spyro and Cynder’s adopted son. He didn’t want to go through all of this again. 

He hated it, the whispering and the pointing and the fame and all of it. He wasn’t their prodigal son returning from the dead. He didn’t want to be. He wanted to be treated as his own drake.

But sadly, for the time being, he’d just have to grin and bear it. There were a few who treated him as his own man. Take for example, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Or simply Princess Cadence for short. Princess of Love, and currently regent of the Crystal Empire.

She was… she was a character at times, and as her title indicated she was sometimes laser-focused on the power of love. Hopeless romantic, to be certain. But more importantly, she simply didn’t care one bit about your status or your title. In her words: “Love surpassed all things. It knew no boundaries nor did it know borders. Motherly, platonic, romantic. All were equal in love’s eyes.”

And for that, Spike was forever grateful. He held a unique role in Equestrian society. Thanks to his status, he was both Realm-Given and Equestrian. He was the bridge between the two societies. 

Which was exactly why he found himself at the most boring dinner party known to dragonkind.

It wasn’t all bad, Cadence was there to provide her own... unique form of entertainment.

“Honestly,” Cadence said in a low whisper, taking a bite out of her salad. “Auntie Luna should really get a move on, her biological clock is ticking. Tick tick ticking! She’s not getting any younger really, and after coming back from the Moon, you’d think she’d attend to her own needs.”

“I mean, how do you know she doesn’t?” Spike said, his face mildly flushed. He really didn’t want to talk about this. He’d gotten used to Cadence’s little rambles, sorta but that didn’t mean he liked hearing them half the time. “Pretty sure love making falls under the banner of things done in the dark… Just sayin’.”

Cadence swatted him gently. “Excuse me! It also falls under things done under my Auntie’s sun, and yet you don’t see one of her many titles being Goddess of Love!”

“...point,” Spike admitted.

“Good, glad we’ve reestablished I’m the only one with Goddess of Love as their title,” Cadence said with a small affirmative nod. “My point still stands though, Auntie Luna is well over a thousand years old. You’d think that’d be more than enough time to get laid.”

Spike had to suppress a snort. Cadence looked at him quizzically before her eyes narrowed.

“Well, if you’re going to mock…” she muttered.

“It’s not that, hardly!” Spike said, holding up his claws defensively. “It’s just… well, nobody… well, nopony I suppose would be this carefree around me normally. It’s all Spike the Great and Glorious, and all that rot! It gets rather annoying after a time.”

“Yes, well, prodigal son returning and all that,” Cadence grumbled in distaste. “Honestly, just because we’re famous doesn’t mean we don’t have lives of our own. Oh, let me tell you when I first ascended I couldn’t get any measure of peace. Did I tell you how I met my Shiny? He treated me as just another pony to guard. Wouldn’t let me sneak out to go clubbing or anything like that. ...at least without a personal guard. Oh let me tell you, it’s really hard to have ‘fun’ when you’ve got two or three gold-clad guards intimidating party-goers right and left.” 

Her tone was one of annoyance, but it was obvious by the light in her eyes it was a very fond memory. This was another reason Spike couldn’t help but like Cadence. She wasn’t afraid to drop the royal facade around him and shoot the shit. She was a completely different pony around him, compared and contrasted with her public persona. Spike suspected only Luna, Celestia and this Shining she often talked about were the only others to see this other side of her.

She was crass, completely vulgar and at the moment didn’t have to conform to the expectations of the populace at large. And quite honestly, Spike couldn’t ask anything more out of his friend.

“Crystal Empire
A loving princess rambles
with the dragon,” Spike recited before groaning once more. “...sorry, some part of a certain enchantment is still lingering on. It gets old… real fast.”

“I can imagine,” Cadence said. “Granted, poetry is the language of love. You should try serenading your mate with it.”

“She hears it every day, even recites some of it. Needless to say, it’s long since lost its novelty,” Spike drawled and Cadence couldn’t help but laugh at how simply ‘done’ the drake sounded.

“Crystal Empire
A done dragon drawls
A princess listens,” Cadence teased and couldn’t help but grin at Spike’s audible groan.

“You’re enjoying my pain aren’t you?” Spike asked, and Cadence nodded.

“Oh, most certainly. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t get to mock the shit out of you at times!” Cadence said.

“Oh, such words!” Spike said, his tone light once more. “Whatever would your ponies say if they caught you acting so scandalous?”

“Oh please, they know just how ‘scandalous’ I can be. Just ask the castle maids!” Cadence couldn’t help but say. Spike hung his head, his face flushing a bright shade of crimson once more.

“...I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?”

“Oh, totally!” Cadence said, her voice absolutely dripping with sympathy. Spike groaned as his head met the table. Cadence’s eyes found themselves wandering, looking back at Luna. She was eying a castle guard with the sort of gaze only a pony who hadn’t got some in generations could eye them with.

She was gnawing on her pen in a way that was probably illegal and… ooof, if Cadence wasn’t married… Good God! It wasn’t exactly the world's best-kept secret that Celestia’s many lovers had been Royal Guards. It stood to reason, then, that Luna had probably taken a few of her lovers from the same batch if you will.

Cadence could, personally, totally agree with that sentiment. It was simply her bad luck that her husband was out of town at the moment at that conference in Manehatten. Otherwise, both would have probably taken an early leave from dinner. 

But, alas, he wasn’t here so Cadence was limited to imagining and fantasizing. Well, that and keeping her long-suffering friend company. So she observed and she wondered and she suffered in silence. Damn her and her heat. Damn that! 

“Shit…” Cadence mumbled to herself as she watched the guard follow Luna’s gaze and cast eyes upon her -admittedly- finely toned flank. It would be a bit before they could act on such desires -Cadence took pride in her adopted auntie having to suffer like she- so, for now, it was just mutual pining. For now, anyways. Cadence suspected in about an hour and a half nobody would be getting any sleep. Irony, really. 

“Good God, I must be really sex-starved…” Cadence thought. “Oh well, toys only get you so…”

Any further mental rambles were cut off from shouting. Cadence’s ears perked up. She caught one word -and from the look on Spike’s face, she knew he did as well- amongst the chaos. Changeling.





It had been several years since Princess Cadence had even seen a changeling. Not that she had any intention of ever going out to look for one, really. She still had the nightmares.

Green fire, laughter. Crystal caves, buzzing. The cycle of which was still burned into her mind. Green fire, laughter. Crystal caves, buzzing. Green fire, laughter. Crystal caves, buzzing. Green fire-laughter-crystal caves-buzzing.

Cadence shook away the memories. That was years ago. No need to get caught up in old memories.

No need at all…





Let it be said, Spike had heard plenty from Cadence about the changeling hoards. He’d heard his own fair share of rumors as well. How they infiltrated your very society, and sowed distrust and turned your families and friends against you. Typical pony propaganda. 

Spike didn’t mind ponies per se, hell he was a friend of a few of them. But he had noticed several unsettling trends about them. Chief of which, due to their herd animal mentality was to fear that which was new to them. That which was strange and different. It had taken a long time before the pony race was able to trust dragons. Granted, the dragons hadn’t exactly helped matters much in that regard, several of them striking out on their own and spreading fear and panic.

Spike hated stereotypes.

He considered himself a relatively open-minded sort. He considered the possibility that not all changelings were like how pony propaganda portrayed them. Just as how not all dragons weren’t like how pony fear-mongers portrayed them.

He was also a fairly observant sort or at least liked to consider himself one. It came with the territory of being a dragon. You needed to have an eye for small details, such as the faintest twinkle of a gem deep in the mines. Or the feeling of magic in the air when creating a new beast, being careful not to pour too much into your creation. 

So he observed the way ponies were running, and which direction they were running to. He also observed the fact that one pony seemed to be heading in the opposite direction as everyone else.

Interesting.

Annnnnnnnnd, oh crap. That pony had noticed he’d noticed. And now he was making a break for it.

Damn.

Okay, let’s be fair here. If you saw a dragon running after you, a dragon you probably saw dining with the Crystal Empire’s elite then you’d be a bit nervous, understandably so. So yeah, Spike could totally get why this guy was running. 

Not once did he consider the fact that maybe this changeling was an infiltrator. Not once did he even consider that possibility. Blame his dad for that. He told him to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. As much as his dad loved a good scrap or two, it was really only towards anyone who actually deserved it. Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto, the Sorceress, Red. They’d all struck first, and his dad had only gone after them in retaliation.

Eventually, Spike managed to corner the changeling. 

“Um… okay, I guess I caught you,” Spike said trying to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible. Which, granted when you were a dragon with teeth like knives and wings like a hurricane was… fairly difficult. Oka,y so yeah, admittedly it was a work in progress. He’d figure it out one day.

“So… um, I guess you’re going to eat me now?” the changeling asked bracing himself. “At least make it quick!”

“Eat you?” Spike blinked in confusion before throwing back his head in a laugh. “...eat you? W-Why would I eat you?”

“Well, I mean you’re the dragon friend of Princess Cadence and I’m the even threatening Changeling who wants to suck all love from the Empire, so why shouldn’t you?” the changeling remarked in a small voice. Were all changelings this thin? Spike didn’t know. He hadn’t seen many changelings to make the comparison. “I mean, that’s your role and that’s mine so…”

“I’m not going to eat you,” Spike said. “...I don’t think you’d taste very good anyways. Had crickets once at my uncle-in-law’s family dinner, tasted… horrible. Besides, some of my neighbors are fireflies and pretty sure if I ate a bug they’d be pretty offended!”

“You’re neighbors with… fireflies?” the changeling asked, gathering up a bit of courage and taking a few nervous steps forwards.

“Yeah, it’s a bit odd at first, but they’re really very nice to talk to. You just gotta get used to all the haikus and stuff, right?” Spike said, the changeling seeming to feel more and more at ease with him with each passing moment. That was good. There was no need for a conflict here. Let it be said, as much as Spike didn’t like his job as ambassador to dragon kind at times he took it very seriously. He was the bridge between his realm and Equestria. He had to be. He had to show Equestria that not all dragons were bad. That not all dragons were greedy flamethrowing monsters. That most dragons were like them, and that ponykind had only really experienced a few bad eggs.

“Haikus?” the changeling asked.

“Oh, yeah. It’s basically a magical enchantment cast upon where I live. You have to speak in haikus two to three times a day, like you physically have to. It’s impossible to subvert the enchantment. Well, almost impossible,” Spike went on feeling more and more at ease with his present company. “I’ve seen Sonata do it, but she’s a siren so she’s already naturally lyrically inclined so…”

“Wait, you know a siren?” the changeling asked. “But… but they’re all homewreckers, seductresses!”

“And all changelings are supposed to be love-eating monsters, aren’t they?” Spike pointed out, and his new companion had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “But you’re not like them… are you?”

“Most aren’t like how ponies think of us. Not really. Me especially. From the moment I first split my egg in the nursery hive, I knew all I wanted to be was a friend,” the changeling said hanging his head, his wings buzzing nervously. “Sadly… the hive doesn’t exactly allow you to make friends. I’m sure there are others like me, -there have to be!- but they’re all too scared to speak up.”

“What makes you so sure?” Spike inquired.

“It’s… just a feeling,” the changeling went on, inside his mind hearing a brief flash of maniacal laughter, before pushing the memory away. No, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t here. She was far away. He was far away. “You remember that attack on Canterlot, a few years back?”

“I’ve heard of it, yeah, it made waves even in the dragon realms. Most were surprised Queen Chrysalis was so bold, attacking Princess Celestia in her own castle,” Spike trailed off before he realized. “You… you were there weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I was. I’m not proud of it, but I was there,” the changeling admitted, hanging his head in shame. “I was part of the attack on Canterlot during the Royal Wedding, but I'd never seen true friendship like that! And I couldn't just steal it and feed on its love. I wanted to share it! But I’m forbidden to. By her. By the Queen. By… by… Chr… well, you know,” he said taking several deep breaths.

Spike laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you alright?”

“Sorry, just… memories,” the changeling said, taking several more deep shuddering breaths. “She’s not here, thank the Hivemother. T-Thank her. A-After that, I knew I couldn't live with my kind anymore. I set off looking for love to share, but…”

“Nobody would have you, would they?” Spike sitting down and wrapping a wing around the changeling. He noted just how frighteningly thin his new friend -yes, friend. He couldn’t be anything else- was. And for the first time, Spike realized exactly why. 

“Y-Yeah, and the worst part? And there's so much love in the Crystal Empire right now. There’s always so much love here! It's what drew me here! But it's drivin' me crazy! I… I can’t even feed! Not… not like that! I… I want to be different, to change if you will. But…” the changeling whispered, sounding close to tears.

“Then take mine,” Spike said. “I’m sure the love of a friend would sustain you, right?”

“You… you and me, friends?” the changeling asked. “But you’re a dragon, and… and you’re supposed to be greedy!”

“And you’re supposed to be a love stealing monster, so there!” Spike said. “I’ve always hated labels. They’re way too… labely.”

“T-Thank you,” the changeling said, feeling the warmth of Spike’s love for him, for everyone wash over him. It felt like the sun, not too overbearing but a gentle warmth like that of a fresh summer’s day. “My… my name. It’s Thorax.”

“Pleased to meet you Thorax,” Spike said. Of course, this was right about the time Princess Cadence found them.

Princess Cadence considered herself a fairly reasonable sort, but when she found Spike sitting next to a changeling -Green fire-laughter-crystal caves-buzzing- of all creatures? Not to mention what the changeling was doing -Green fire-laughter-crystal caves-buzzing- she had to assume the worst.

“Step away,” Cadence said, drawing a blade. “Or I shall relieve that head of yours from its shoulders.” 

Spike would not let this stand.

“No, you step away,” Spike said. No, not said. Ordered. Right now he wasn’t Cadence’s friend, he was Thorax’s. “His name is Thorax, and he’s a friend.”

“S-Spike?” Cadence asked, two guards arriving and pointing their spears at their enemy. “Have you…?”

“If you’re going to ask if I’ve lost my mind, I’d consider myself quite sane. Now step away and put down the sword,” Spike said firmly. “Thorax is my friend. I don’t want to fight you on this Cadence, but rest assured I will. My status as dragon ambassador to the Crystal Empire be damned.”

“But he’s a changeling!” Cadence argued, the words sounding weak in her mouth even as she said them. Memories threatened to spill over, old wounds threatened to re-open. But she pushed them aside. That was then, and this was now. “He’s a love-sucking monster!”

Thorax practically wilted under her harsh words. 

“But I am a dragon, correct? But I am supposed to be a monstrous brute, correct?” Spike asked. What he was going to say next was probably going to hurt. Actually, Spike knew it would. But it had to be said all the same. “Love surpasses all things. It knows no boundaries nor does it know borders. Motherly, platonic, romantic. All are equal in love’s eyes. Should a changeling be any different?”
 
At this, Cadence looked ashamed of herself. Spike was… absolutely right. Letting the sword fall to the ground with a clatter, she gestured to her guards. They looked at her in confusion, and Cadence glared at them. Carefully, cautiously, they put down their spears.

“Thank you…” Spike said. “Now, can we have some proper introductions? Cadence, meet my new friend Thorax. Thorax, meet my old friend Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Or Princess Cadence for short.”

“H-Hello,” Thorax said nervously, stepping closer to the Princess of Love. His legs wobbled in fear, but he gathered up his courage and stepped forwards. If Spike trusted her, so should he. For a moment, he eyed the sword and for a moment he wondered if all this was just a ruse. Was Cadence simply making him let his guard down? Was she… No, none of that! Spike trusted her, and so should he.

And Cadence smiled at her. No, it wasn’t an ‘I’m going to kill you and enjoy every second of it’ kind of smile. It was a genuinely warm, loving smile. And then she spoke. “Welcome to the Crystal Empire, Thorax.”

Thorax’s legs found themselves giving out from under him. Spike let out a shout even as the darkness welcomed Thorax. He let out a gasp of: “So hungry…” before he went under.

Spike rushed towards him, Cadence close behind. “THORAX!”
> 15: Recovery
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorax let out a soft moan as the light returned. No no, Pharynx. It wasn’t time for everybug to wake up yet. Wait wait wait, this wasn’t the hive. And oh… Oh dear Hivemother there was a frog in his bed! An actual frog!

Okay okay, where was he? Okay, so he was in a castle, he knew that much. There were sounds around him, swamp sounds. Crickets, frogs, and… wait, was that singing? Oh, that was sorta hypnotic wasn’t it? It was almost like… oh by the Hivemother it was! A siren, an actual honest to Hivemother siren! Wait wait wait, back up a bit. Spike said he knew a siren, so that meant…

Hum, okay then. So he was at Spike’s, wherever that was. Dragonlands? Probably. Where exa… okay, so he mentioned a swamp. A swamp with a magical enchantment over it where everybody spoke in haikus.

“Infested castle
A sweet changeling awakes
in spite of the frogs…”

Ah, okay, yes, there it was. There was one of the haikus Spike had mentioned. Okay, up and at ‘em. Was that the saying? Okay, slow steps forward. Regain your balance and… oh, there we go. There we go, floor’s coming up fast! Annnnnnnnnd darkness again.

A few moments pass, or was that a few hours?

Awake again, okay then. So, a bit too love-starved to be really up and moving about for the most part. Regain your strength, and then and only then do you get out of bed. All skin and bones right now. Even spending time in the Crystal Empire, alight with love as it is, was basically pointless if nobody lets you have some of their love. You could take it, sure, but that’s not you is it? 

It’s… cruel, it’s wrong. It’s basically violating someone! And you know all about being violated, don’t you?





“He’s traumatized, I know that much,” Spike said over a potion call later that morning. Nearby, sheep’s meat cooked over a fire pit. The crackle of the flames provided an odd tranquility, which Spike needed as his thoughts raced. They worried over Thorax, and what possibly could have been done to him. Him and his people. “He’s quiet, nervous, and fairly skittish. When I first met him, Thorax? He looked ready to bolt.”

“Well, to be fair, you are a big dragon,” Cynder pointed out, grinding her blade up against a millstone. Sparks flew and the sound of pounding metal was heard in the background along with the crackle of flames. “Changeling or no, anyone would be scared of you at your size.”

“Changelings?” Eldrid said waddling into view, the elder dragon carrying a potion in hand. What he was doing there, Spike could only guess. Probably providing his mom more of those exploding crystals that she liked so much. Agh, it really wasn’t any of his business anyhow. He had more important things to ponder. As ever, Eldrid was… excitable. In his own unique way, he brought a bit of levity to an otherwise worrisome situation. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to study changelings. See what makes them tick? Like, how do they… well, change. Is it a conservation of magical energy type of thing, or is it something more?”

Cynder quickly shoved Eldrid off. “I’m quite sure poor Thorax doesn’t need you poking and prodding at him, you big green galoot!” she barked before turning back to her son. “Listen, just take it slow okay? I can’t imagine spending time under Queen Chrysalis is good for anyone’s psyche…”

“I… I gathered. Thanks, mom,” Spike said before closing the call and taking a deep long sigh. “So Thorax, what do I do? How can I help you? Please, just let me help you. What did Chrysalis do to you?”

He, for a brief moment, wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. No, no, Spike corrected himself. Thorax needed his help, and so he would give it. Just leaving him hanging like that… that was just as bad as leaving him with Chrysalis. 

He sighed again. How could a ruler even do that to their own people, just ration off the very thing they needed to survive? No, it was more than that. Chrysalis was hoarding all the love for herself. It was simply amazing her hive wasn’t dying on its feet already. Or maybe it was, and Thorax wasn’t telling the whole story. Oh, okay. One problem at a time. Help Thorax first, then worry about a tyrant in need of deposing. 

Was it even his place to deal with Chrysalis, Spike wondered. Was it a good idea to even get involved? Helping Thorax was one thing, but he was talking about invading another nation entirely. There would be a political shitstorm of cataclysmic proportions if he didn’t handle this right. 

Spike was amazed he had thought this through this much to begin with. Thorax was just a friend, yeah he was in need of a helping hand but this… This was different. Invading another nation entirely was going a bit beyond just helping a friend. The dragons certainly had the manpower to do it, but would they want to get involved? Would they want to risk their own hides for a nation they were barely even aware of? The ponies certainly wouldn’t. They would, at best, think Thorax a one-off. The black sheep -haha!- of his hive and that would be that.

More than that, he was a father to be. He had eggs on the way. He couldn’t just drop everything to help Thorax’s people. He needed to think realistically here. Chrysalis hadn’t stood unopposed for decades without reason. She had anti-dragon measures in place most likely. Lady Tiamat, for all he knew she knew the same spell as Gnasty Gnorc. As soon as Spike or anyone else for that matter breached Changeling airspace, he could turn into a gem, drop like a stone and shatter to pieces.

Spike slid back against the castle wall. Tiamat, what a mess!





The hive could hardly be described as a friendly place, if anything it was the exact opposite. Calling it a dog eat dog world was hardly inaccurate. It was like a maze, actually, constantly changing. Constantly twisting and turning and remaking itself. That was the true horror of it, and exactly why it had never been conquered. Not once. 

After all, if you were an invading army that continuously got separated, how could you destroy the hive? No, it would be all too easy to separate you from your comrades and then cut you down to size. Rooms that could seal themselves off, gravity that seemingly took a mind of its own. Bridges that crumbled beneath. Remnants of an ancient sorcerer’s dark magic, stolen and repurposed. 

It would only be if you had a changeling as your guide that you would make it through this maze alive. And that was, of course, presuming you knew how to face Queen Chrysalis in her own domain. Because if you somehow made it to her throne room, there was no guarantee you’d leave. Assuming she didn’t flay you alive, and string you up, chances are you’d probably get repurposed as her own personal sex toy. She was like that. The sex toy option was generally considered a more merciful fate. 

For a small given amount of mercy anyways. After all, you couldn’t even say you were treated well if Chrysalis considered letting you live. It was you being tossed in a cell to rot and being called for when you were needed. A girl had to get her kicks somehow, after all!

As for Thorax, well he knew his way around the hive by heart. As every changeling did. He had long since resigned himself to his fate. He was born here, and he was going to die here.

Chrysalis was in an unusual amount of fury today. Even more so than usual. Every changeling in the hive knew why, though none dared to voice the exact reason. She had been defeated, humiliated even. By six ponies and to add insult to injury the very power of love she sought to steal! The plan had nearly gone off without a hitch, aside from one small bookworm she’d dismissed as inconsequential.

Thorax would have laughed had he not known Chrysalis was probably listening. Turns out, failing to research your targets led to consequences. After all, if the pony you posed as just so happened to be the personal babysitter of Celestia’s personal student… well then! Should Chrysalis have been so surprised that she recognized her for what she was?

Thorax found himself called to the throne room. His brother, Pharynx, gave him a look of pity, or was that perhaps envy? Thorax’s heart sank, he knew exactly what he was in for.

There she was, laying on her throne. Chrysalis, queen of the hive. Queen of all that was.

“Well, good to see you know how to follow orders, drone 3756,” Chrysalis said, slinking towards him like some large cat. Thorax knew that she knew his name, she just cared not to mention it. “Now perhaps you can follow these. Attend to me…”

She leered at him with a predatory grin, and pounced.

Thorax woke up in a sweat, his heart pounding like a drum. His eyes darted right and left just to check and see if Chrysalis was there, waiting in the shadows. He took several short sharp breaths. He was fine, he was safe. This was not the hive. This was Spike’s castle, the home of his friend.

Memories, that’s all they were. Memories of a life he’d left behind.

“She’s a monster…” Thorax thought to himself as he slowly, but steadily rose to his feet. Casting the sheets aside, he was surprised when he didn’t fall flat on his face. Then he noticed it, the pink mist shimmering faintly in the air. Eyes widening briefly in realization, Thorax knew what had happened.

Perhaps subconsciously, he had been stealing Spike’s love from him. He… he had violated Spike’s trust in him! He had… Again, Thorax took several short breaths to calm himself. It was okay, this was okay. It wasn’t something that could be helped. This house was a home, it was filmed with warmth and light. It was filled with what could only be described as a great love. A tenderness. Spike cared for his mate just as he cared deeply for him. 

Love… yes, love. Thorax wasn’t quite sure what he felt for Spike just yet. Before, he had been swallowed in darkness. He felt like he was drowning, with no way to claw himself back up to the surface. Then came a light in his life, Spike, who was so willing to share his great love for his friends with him.

Huh, friendship. That was something Thorax had never known before. He decided he’d liked it. He’d always wanted friendship back in the hive, but he could never really know it. At best, his fellow drones could only treat him like an acquaintance.

Now he was somewhere different, where he was loved and accepted. But… but what would Spike think of him if he knew? What would he think of him if he knew how he was unable to fend off Chrysalis. That he, at the very first chance he got, turned and ran from his hive -his family!- like a coward. Oh Hivemother, his family. Pharynx… He’d simply left him there to Chrysalis’ advances.

Then again, Pharynx seemed to like it there. ...Didn’t he? Didn’t he? But then again, he may not have known there was a life outside the hive walls. Did a slave truly know he was a slave if he was enslaved?

And it was slavery for the changelings. Chrysalis -he would never call her by her title, not again- saw them as pawns. Nothing more than tools of conquest. Not that they knew this, and frankly? That was the most frightening thought of all.

In any event, Thorax found himself wandering through the keep’s hallways, frogs croaking out their songs in the background, strange creatures calling out of the gloom. The floorboards creaked underneath him with every step, torches lighting up on their own. Thorax had heard rumors of a wizard once taking up residence here before he had been ousted by Spyro in his quest to free the Forgotten Realms from the evils of the Sorceress. Evidently, traces of his magic still remained in the air. 

It was different compared to that of her magic, less vile to the taste. There were still hints of evil, but little by little they’d begun to fade. Thorax knew this was due to Spike and his mate taking up residence here, filling the air with more positive Beast Makers magic. 

He could almost taste it. The sound of sizzling meat caught his attention, and Thorax followed the sounds. He found himself in what could only be the kitchen, a truly massive leg of lamb cooking over a fire pit. Green flames roasted it on a spit as it slowly turned. 

“Bit much for breakfast isn’t it?” Thorax asked as Spike continuously added to the flames every now and then, walking around the firepit dressed in an apron. “I mean, I know you dragons eat a lot but… It’s a bit much isn’t it?”

“I’m a growing drake!” Spike said in an almost whiny tone of voice before Smolder peeked her head in. She was a little bit pudgier than normal -not that anyone was going to mention this- for fairly obvious reasons. 

“No, you’ve grown enough,” Smolder said, having yet to take notice of Thorax. “There’s only one dragon allowed to snag a bit of extra food off the table and that’s me. I’m sharing this body now, remember?”

“Still doesn’t give you an excuse to be a pig about it…” Spike muttered, and Smolder twitched. Evidently, she had heard him.

“WHAT WAS THAT?”

Spike nervously -and perhaps wisely- backtracked. “Hey Thorax, have you met my wife?”

“...I’m still recovering my hearing from that shout of hers, so yes,” Thorax deadpanned, his wings buzzing idly. “D-Do you mind not doing that again? It… it reminds me of her.”

Smolder looked confused for a moment before she facepalmed. Of course. She walked over to her new castle mate and put an arm around the bug-pony. In a rather uncharacteristic show of warmth, she said: “It’s okay, you’re safe here. She can’t touch you here. As soon as you arrived, I had a friend put up anti-changeling wards. The only way one could get in is if they were invited, like you.”

Thorax’s eyes were wet with tears, wiping them away he embraced Smolder in a hug. “T-Thank you!”

“She’ll never be able to touch you again…” Smolder soothed, stroking Thorax’s chitlin and holding him close, letting him soak in her love. And little by little, Thorax felt his strength begin to return…

Love, true love of any sort was of an absence in the hive. Thorax knew this. They all knew this. Any love found was stolen and hoarded away by Chrysalis. Everyone had to scrounge what they could, taking routine little ‘excursions’ into the pony lands, under disguises. They disguised themselves as loved ones, and just lived a life for a few days.

They lived another life for as long as they dared, and then bolted. Everyone in the hive knew of this, but they all agreed not to speak of it. At least not to Chrysalis, otherwise she would steal that love for herself.

So Thorax found himself living a lie, as the pony Roseluck in Ponyville. If her spouse, Lily of the Valley AKA Lily Valley took notice of any differences in her ‘spouse’s’ she didn’t say a word. Thorax was amazed he’d kept the lie up for this long, really. Lily was one of those anxiety-ridden ponies. 

But she was… charming, a bit of a dork with her comic books actually. Just for a moment, a single moment, Thorax could lie to himself and believe he was living this life with her. But he knew in a few short days, he would have to leave and probably live another life and go through this same pain again. And then again, and then again. But for now, he was at peace.

Here he lay on her bed after a very nice home-cooked dinner and reading a comic book with her curled up under the covers. Supermare, the strange visitor from another world. And yet despite being so different to other ponies, he was so kind.

“...Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us into something better. And on my soul, I swear that until my dream of a world where dignity, honor, and justice are the reality we all share, I'll never stop fighting. Ever.”

Thorax wished he had a Supermare in his life. Someone who wouldn’t stop fighting for him. But who? Lily certainly wouldn’t, not if she knew the truth. Pharynx might fight for him if he wasn’t so caught between his loyalty to the hive and caught between his love for his brother.

Thorax didn’t know when, or how, but he knew he eventually would break free of Chrysalis’ control. He just had to. He had to have that hope and that dream. 

That was then and this was now. Now he had someone to fight for him, at least that’s what he wanted to believe. But what would they think of him for being so weak? He allowed Chrysalis to take control over his life, and then… and then, Thorax thought, he fled like a coward. 

“You alright Thorax?” Smolder asked in a concerned tone.

“Sorry,” Thorax mumbled nervously, shuffling his hooves. “It’s… yeah, I was just lost in thought for a moment or so there.”

If Smolder believed him was another story. Looking at Spike, well, Thorax was almost certain that he didn’t. Hivemother, he was such a damn mess.





“He’s lying,” Spike said to his wife later that night, as they took a stroll through the swamps. “He’s in pain, Smol.”

“Yeah, I sorta picked up on it myself,” Smolder admitted. “But give him time, Spike. When Thorax is good and ready, he’ll tell us everything. Roam wasn’t built in a day, and frankly, I’m amazed he trusts you so much already.”

“Well, saving him from starving to death might helped…” Spike admitted. “The way I see it, Thorax has been searching for a friend for so long that… as soon as he got one he latched onto me.”

Smolder let out a growl, and slammed a fist into her outstretched palm. Small blasts of flame jetted out from her nostrils. “Damn that bitch. Damn her to hell. Spike, you better try and stop me from storming Chrysalis’ gates, because I swear I will…”

Spike laid a calming hand on her shoulder, and another on her belly. “No, not yet,” Spike said. “Not today.”

“I can still fight!” Smolder snarled.

“But can they?” Spike pointed out looking pointedly at her belly. Smolder looked ashamed of herself and then took several deep calming breaths.

“You’re… you’re right, Mate of Mine. It’s just…” Smolder said. “Tiamat, it makes me so angry that… that mare is oppressing her own people and we can’t do a single thing about it. Not unless we want to navigate a political minefield! So we’re just supposed to sit here on our asses and just basically twiddle our thumbs!”

“I know…” Spike said holding her close. “I know…”





Again, Thorax found himself wandering the halls. Aimlessly this time, with no real sense of purpose aside from getting the lay of the land if you will. Not for the first time, Thorax couldn’t help but observe how completely different this keep felt compared to Chrysalis’ hive. 

The castle was dark and sorta dank but wasn’t completely oppressing. Thorax simply couldn’t get enough of how much of a light there was about the place. He didn’t know how else to put it, really. He felt like he finally had a home.

The corridors got warmer, and Thorax raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He hadn’t felt something like this since… Oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhhh… Of course! 

Walking into the room confirmed his suspicions. Sure enough, a nest had been built out of mud, leaves, and whatever else Spike and Smolder could find. A perfect little nesting ground to raise their kids. Thorax could feel the sheer love about the room, it was nearly overwhelming. He hissed out of habit, a forked tongue flicking out of his mouth like that of a snake’s.

“Oh yeah, sure, that’ll make people welcome you into their home,” Thorax thought in self-derision. “Have a snake-tongue. Though granted, I have heard certain types are into that sort of thing so… Your mileage may vary, right?”

And so there he sat, soaking in whatever love he could. His mind turned back to the Hive, and his last days in it…

Thorax knew he had to leave soon, just looking Chrysalis in the eye was becoming nearly unbearable. It… yeah, he couldn’t do it any longer. His stomach churned and he felt sick with himself. 

The way she touched him, he knew it was wrong. He visibly shuddered at the reminder. But where could he go? Out there, into the wilds? He would hardly be welcomed in any town, and he could live a life for a few days but eventually… he’d be found out. He’d be chased from that town with pitchforks and torches assuming they didn’t kill him outright.

He had… he had… Again, Thorax took several deep breaths to calm himself. No use in having an out and out panic attack in the middle of the hive for all to see. He’d be seen as weak. Well, weaker anyways. He was already thought to most as Pharynx’s runty little brother. Hell, Thorax was half certain that Pharynx was ashamed of him for almost never contributing to the hive’s overall food supply.

But how could he? Just stealing love from others, it was… it was wrong! 

He cast a glance out to his fellow changelings, going about their day to day lives. Blind, perhaps willingly so to just what they were doing. What they were standing for. And he couldn’t hate them for it, he could only pity them. For the first time in what felt like ages, Thorax felt like he had his eyes opened to what a horrible position his people were in. His mind was made up. He needed to go out and find help. Get away from this place.

He needed to be careful about this though, Chrysalis could never know.

So under cover of darkness, he gathered what little things he owned and while everyone was sleeping… he fled. He fled through the corridors and fled to the outside world. He could taste it, freedom.

But just as he passed the final guardpost, he heard a voice.

“I should have known this was coming,” Pharynx’s voice rumbled and Thorax’s heart nearly stopped. This was it, then. Pharynx was going to report him and it would all be over. And he was so damn close too! 

“...guess you’re going to report this, right?” Thorax mumbled. “Chrysalis never liked deserters.”

“No, she doesn’t. Neither do I for that matter,” Pharynx rumbled and Thorax’s heart sunk. Of course. He should have known, as ever Pharynx’s loyalty to his Queen won out. “But neither do I tolerate my brother in distress.”

Thorax’s eyes widened.

“I have been paying attention you know,” Pharynx said. “It took me a little while to figure out where I stood, but… but I watched you. How you could barely meet my Queen’s eyes. It… yeah, I didn’t know how to process this. On the one hoof, you should be honored. Having sex with the Queen.”

“I should be honored!?!” Thorax roared. “She raped me Pharynx!”

“Exactly, and that cannot stand. I hadn’t realized it until recently, or maybe I just didn’t care. For whatever the reason, I… yes, Thor. Get away from here. You’re too good for this place. It shames me to be a party to what goes on in those chambers. I… I should have spoken up earlier.”

Pharynx was nearly crying now. “I don’t deserve my title as your brother.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Thorax said.

“But I should have. Maybe for the first time ever, we're seein' it eye to eye,” Pharynx went on. “I’m… trapped, brother. Between my loyalty to you and my loyalty to my hive. Maybe that’s why I tried to deny it to myself, what my Queen did to you. Hivemother above, and may she forgive me, I can’t believe I’m still calling her that. You need to get away from here, Thor. Run! Run like the wind!”

And so Thorax did, and he never looked back…

The present again. Thorax shook himself clear of those memories. He was free, he was free from her. Chrysalis could never touch him again. He had a home now, for however long it lasted.

He looked back to the nest. When it was filled with eggs, when it was a proper clutch he would protect it to the best of his ability. These kids would grow up with a proper family, a proper older brother. He’d failed his family back in the hive, he would not fail this one.

Huh, okay yeah that was new. His wings… they were glittering now. That was new. How could they… Was Spike and Smolder’s love for him changing him? Changing him into something new? 

He needed to know, this bore further investigation.

“Affectionate nest
A poor, warm changeling cares
in spite of the past…” Thorax said with the haiku coming as naturally as flying to him. He could stand to live here. He really could. 

“Ooooooooh, shiny wings!” a feminine voice babbled and Thorax nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked to his left and saw this massive serpentine creature peeking through a window. Her flippers rested on the windowsill. “So you’re a changeling, right? I’ve heard gossip from the fireflies that Spikey and Smol took in a new roommate. I was hoping to meet them like I seriously was! Cause I got questions! Is this like a harem kind of thing? I’ve heard dragons hoard gems, so do they hoard mates as well?”

So this was Sonata, Thorax realized. Who else could it be? She was… peppy. Infectiously so actually. In spite of himself, Thorax found himself grinning. It was hard not to when around her.

“I’m… no I’m not sure if dragons form harems or not. I’m just a friend, I think,” Thorax stuttered out nervously, trying to ignore the big sharp teeth in Sonata’s grin. “A-And anyways, not sure Spike even swings that way!”

“So you’re saying you hope he does?” Sonata asked with an all too innocent to be actually innocent sort of expression.

“I… I didn’t say that! So stop putting words in my mouth!” Thorax stammered out.

Sonata rolled onto her back, still smiling.

“Anyways, pleased to meet you, Thorax,” Sonata said. “Oh my goodness, you have no idea how nice it is to have someone to talk to besides Spike and Smolder. The fireflies won’t talk to me, not sure why really…” she said, giving a small little shrug.

Thorax declined to mention how it was maybe the fact that she was a massive sharp-toothed sea serpent. That might have had something to do with it.

“Listen, I’m going to give it to you straight,” Sonata said, looking Thorax directly in the eye as she rolled back onto her belly. That odd little red gem on her chest was glowing intensely. “We sirens, we can sense emotions like no other creature can alright? You get me?”

Thorax gave a nervous little nod of confirmation, having a feeling where this was going. “Y-Yeah?”

“I know you’re in distress, Thor,” Sonata said kindly, running a flipper along the side of his face. “You can’t keep this stuff bottled up inside, I know how much it’s hurting you.”

“H-How much do you know…?” Thorax asked worriedly.

“Just enough,” Sonata said. “Whatever happened to you… nobody deserves to go through it alone. Healing can only start when you talk about your problems. But… what do I know, eh? I’m just a girl, sweet and petite. Not like you have to listen to me, eh?”

With that, Sonata vanished back into the waters leaving only silence to reign once again.

But Thorax just knew she was right. His healing could only start once he talked to his friends -his friends! His heart simply fluttered at the notion- about all of this. He was scared to do it, yes, but he was more frightened of facing the future without his friends by his side.

“No more…” Thorax decided making a declaration to his former tormentor. “No more will I let you rule over my life… You hear me!?!” 

He found Spike and Smolder sharing lunch and nervously stepped into the room. From the look on his face, both dragons knew it was something serious.

“I… I have to speak to you about something,” Thorax said, hoping to the Hivemother that his words didn’t catch themselves in his throat. It was all he wanted to do, to just turn and run and never explain any of this. But that would be letting her win wouldn’t it? 

“Take your time Thorax,” Smolder said kindly. “You don’t have to explain it all right now.”

“But… But I have to, otherwise… she’ll win. You don’t know what it was like back in the hive, do you? No, of course, you don’t,” Thorax babbled his wings buzzing nervously, all senses still telling him to run for it. But he stood his ground. No more running. No more running, he told himself. “But… I’ll try and help you to understand.”

He wasn't okay, not yet. But he was getting there.
> 16: Recuperation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Dragon Realms were not at all what Thorax actually expected. He’d heard the stories, really. Of the monstrous brutes who ransacked, pillaged and ruined entire villages all in search of their next addition to their already considerable hoard. He’d heard the stories of how brave knights sent to slay the dragons only ended up gobbled up or turned to ash, with only the remains of their armor to remember them by.

Okay, granted, all of these stories were from ponies who’d only seen one side of the dragon nation. One side of the nation who hadn’t admittedly done much good in eliminating one very nasty stereotype.

But admittedly, what Thorax did not expect was to be treated to a full four-course meal by the Artisans dragons. Actually, come to think of it, Thorax didn’t know dragons could be artisans of any sort.

“Ah, really guys, this isn’t entirely necessary…” Thorax tried to protest even as Alvar shoved another dish in front of him. “I mean, I can cook for myself!”

“Ah yes, but where’s the fun in that?” the burgundy red dragon asked, his apron covered in all sorts of foodstuff. “Food is fun, food is meant to be shared and from the look of you, you need food. So no arguing!”

Argus, nearby, was about to chomp on some of the poached egg going to Thorax’s salad, before Alvar tugged him away via his scarf. 

“L-Look, guys, this is all a bit much…” Thorax mumbled idly stabbing at his food.

“So, you’re all skin and bones. Or chitlin and bones I guess, really…” Alvar murmured before shrugging. “Anyways, the point is, you cannot be seen like that. It’s just wrong. We’ve got to put some meat on those bones of yours!”

“Well, you could just cover me in steak, so job done I guess?” Thorax said before laughing at his own lame joke. Alvar looked rather unimpressed and unamused. 

Thorax felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, and he looked up realizing Alvar had smacked him. “Now you listen here kid, Spike asked me to get some food in you and that’s what I’m going to do, understand?”

“...U-Understood…” Thorax stammered. 

“Whoever starved you like this…” Alvar said shaking his head, his nostrils letting out small puffs of flame. He slammed a fist into his outstretched palm. “I’d like to have very strong words with them.”

Alvar looked at Thorax. He, admittedly, couldn’t really tell the changelings age and his smaller than usual size probably didn’t help matters but at his best guess, he couldn’t be older than 23. Too young. Way too young to be put through hell. 

Dragons, by Alvar’s own admission, had a unique way of looking at things age-wise simply because of how long-lived they were. To them, 23 was basically still that of a child’s. Spyro and the rest of his generation, even in their early 40s were still just children. And Spike, Smolder and Gallus and now Thorax were even younger. They were just barely out of their cribs by a dragon’s perspective. Alvar was in his early 200s but that was still young for a dragon, not even approaching middle-age yet. The greatest and longest-lived of the dragons, the great wyrms lived for well over 1000 years. 

Take the great Dragon Lord Torch of the Eternal Flame. Truly ancient, he had seen it all. The rise and fall of ages and the collapse of kingdoms. He had seen Celestia and Luna when they were children, just babes in their cribs. He had seen Discord’s first reign, the might of Lord Tirek before the Sisters rose up to meet him in battle, and dethrone him. 

Of course, not all dragons lived this long. Most didn’t even reach 700, to live to 1000 was a rare blessing. Dragons were exceptionally hard to kill, yes, but quite a few were slaughtered in their cribs. Killed before they hit 50. During this early period, their scales weren’t as hard and their minds weren’t as wise to the world around them. They were easily picked off.

Now, Alvar didn’t know how long a changeling lived but he intended to see at least this one living to reach his middle age. He wanted to see all of Spike’s generation reach at least that much. He knew it was probably a pipe dream at best, but it was still a wonderful dream.

How someone could do… well, -he cast a glance to Thorax- that to one of their own people was beyond him. Children -and yes, he was well aware Thorax probably wasn’t a child anymore- was beyond him. Children were the next generation and should be treated as such. It was their job to succeed their elders and create a better world than the one their parents had left them with. He had heard rumors of course, of the tyranny of Queen Chrysalis the ‘Great’. 

While he obviously had yet to see her for himself -and had no real honest desire to- he had seen the Badlands which she ruled. It had long been suspected Queen Chrysalis had been responsible for their horrible state, but no real proof had been offered. Now though, looking at Thorax, Alvar had to wonder…

NO! What was he thinking? By Lady Tiamat and Lord Bahamut, what was he thinking? The last thing this poor kid needed was to be pumped for information. He was traumatized enough as it was.

“Please forgive me Lady Tiamat…” Alvar thought as he placed another plate in front of Thorax, and watched as the grub shoveled the food into his mouth. Alvar’s eyes felt themselves growing wet. “By the inferno, it’s like he hasn’t been treated to a single decent meal in his life…”

And, of course, Alvar knew he most likely hadn’t been. “Well then,” he thought to himself. “Time to fix that!”

And when Thorax nervously asked for that second course, well Alvar was only too happy to oblige him.





Thorax laid peacefully on the bed that Spike and Smolder had given him. Being a refugee of Chrysalis’s reign of terror, he needed some kind of peace in his life in the middle of all of those attacks he and his people had made. He felt kind of bad for intruding on both Spike and Smolder’s lives, but he knew that anywhere was better than back there with her, so he couldn’t help but feel grateful for them taking care of him.

All the same though, he still couldn’t help that lingering feeling he was… well, he was basically mooching off their kindness and generosity. He didn’t want all of it to just be handed to him on a silver platter; especially given how notorious Changelings had become in the realms. Chrysalis had painted his species in a horrible light, to be frank. He just had to hope and pray that, when all was said and done and the realms finally had enough of her, that he could repair the damage and reinvent the Changeling race for everyone else. Yeah. If that ever happened, that was.

“Right,” Thorax said as he picked himself up. “No more angsting about what’s happened and what may never be. You’re here, in the present, so focus on that. One day at a time, isn’t that what Smolder said?”

He took one hoof in front of the other. One step at a time, one day at a time till he was back at his full strength. His attempt at walking seemed to be going well, that was until a sudden jolt ran up his leg and he buckled under the pain. As he fell, Spike darted over and caught him.

“You alright, Thorax?” Spike asked as he lifted Thorax back onto four legs again.

“Yeah, just a bit of a misstep, that’s all,” Thorax said. “It happens.”

“You still a bit scared from the whole thing with Chrysalis?” Spike could tell whenever someone was feeling a little bit rattled by something. Though, this was the first time he had ever taken in someone from an evil queen’s kingdom. “Look, I’m sure that it’ll all work out just fine in the end.”

“Tomorrow’s going to be a brighter day, and all that right?” Thorax asked with an awkward little grin. Okay, truth be told he didn’t like Spike treating him as if he was a doll about to break. He could handle himself, he could! 

For a brief moment, he re-considered telling Spike and his mate everything. Yeah, sure, Sonata had said to get everything off his chest and he had but now Spike looked at him if he was going to break down any moment. At least, that’s what Thorax saw. He wasn’t going to do that! He wasn’t! “I swear, he’s as bad as Pharynx at times, treating me as some gentle flower. While I admit, there’s plenty of love for me to feed on right now, it’s… getting out of hand.”

Thorax found himself needing to take a walk, and as soon as he got outside he was treated with a blast of hot humid air. It was strangely comforting, and one of the few reminders of home this place had. Despite everything that had gone on there, Thorax still longed to return to his hive one day. While he knew it was a long shot at best, the possibility of freeing his hive from Chrysalis’ tyranny was a wonderful prospect.

“So, how long has this Chrysalis been a problem for you, Thorax?” Spike had asked back then. If Chrysalis really had been causing so much trouble for Thorax and his people, the least that he needed to know was the rest of the details. “Few months? Couple of years? Well, whatever the case, I’m sure that someone’s gonna be there to put a stop to her eventually.”

“Decades. Nobody knows how long, really. For me, she’s always been… just there,” Thorax answered before shuddering. “Keeping to the shadows, ruling us with an iron hoof. Starving us. And… other things.”

For a moment, a brief moment he heard her voice in his ear. That evil voice, sounding like a mixture of poison ivy and deadly nightshade. Telling him to attend to her. He could never forget that voice. Just… that voice. To him, it was always giving off the impression that she was a demon from the darkest pits of Tartarus.

Spike hadn’t known, of course, not until Thorax had told him and his mate exactly the lengths of Chrysalis’ depravity. They had reacted with the appropriate amounts of shock, horror, and visible disgust. It was… it was nice to hear someone think that, for once, Chrysalis and what she was doing was wrong. His hive seemed not to care, or at least if they did they were too scared to speak.

Thorax betted on the latter, as for the longest time -and even now in some ways- he’d always thought it was his fault. It was his fault that he’d been so weak, and unable to stop her. He knew better now.

From the door’s archway, Spike observed.

“You know, I’d think Thor would have had enough of being spied upon, just saying,” Gallus commented and Spike had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Pretty sure he got enough of that from his hive!”

“Oh. Hey, Gallus,” Spike limply lifted his claw. “How long have you been there?”

“Oh, long enough,” Gallus remarked, the griffon having put on a bit more muscle now that he was out of his lanky teenage years. “So this is your new mate?”

“He’s… he’s not my new mate! I’m a one dragon type of dragon!” Spike protested, probably aware the blushing and stuttering wasn’t helping his case.

“Oh, yes, sure. I’ve seen it before you know. Take in a poor boy from a poor family, and watch what happens as ‘whoops’, you’re accidentally in love!” Gallus laughed.

“Are you sure you’re not drawing from personal experience?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyebrows.

“Just sayin’,” Gallus said. “He’s cute, I guess, if you’re into bugs.”

“If you want him, you can take him yourself!” Spike said.

“Oh, so now you’re throwing him out on the street?” Gallus drawled in that seemingly consistent deadpan tone of his that he’d mastered. “You’re so cruel to all of us Spike.”

“Just get to the point, Gal,” Spike said. “What are you really after?”

“Oh, this and that,” Gallus said.

“That’s not really clear…” Spike said.

“Oh, I heard rumors you had old Alvar stuff Thorax’s face,” Gallus said. “So that means you do let your new boyfriend out of the castle from time to time!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spike asked hesitantly.

“Oh, just saying. Most creatures don’t respond well to being cooped up anywhere for any long length of time,” Gallus said. “Consider this, by basically imprisoning him he-”

“I’m not imprisoning him!” Spike argued.

“He may not see it that way,” Gallus pointed out, poking his friend in the chest. “His previous captor certainly didn’t let him go out and about all that much did she now?”

Spike’s horrified expression said volumes.

“I thought so,” Gallus said, laying a paw on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re a good man Spike, your heart’s in the right place. You’re just not handling this correctly. And see, that’s why I’m here.”

“...well, your job has basically been to kick my ass when I needed it…” Spike admitted.

“Exactly!” Gallus beamed. “So, let me have Thorax for a few hours. He needs… enlightenment.”

“...You’re going to introduce him to online gaming aren’t you?” Spike said with a deadpan, somewhat worried expression and tone.

“Yup!” Gallus said popping the P and for some reason, Spike felt very worried.





Okay, a little bit of backstory is needed here, just for the record. For Gallus, most of his time had been boring and uneventful. He needed to break the mold. And for all the good that being with Spike, Smolder, and the others was, it wasn’t enough. He needed to be… inventive. Do something that none of them would have expected. Only thing was, not a lot of things came to mind. At least, none of the obvious ones, that was.

During one of his realm-jumping trips, he eventually found something that caught his eyes. In the Magic Crafters’ realm, a lone flyer had struck him square on the face. Probably tossed around by one of those wind-magic users. Or however they were called. Gallus didn’t really care for that kind of stuff. He was about to toss the flyer away when he saw exactly what it was.

Apparently, there was gonna be some kind of tournament coming up with a hefty sum of gems as the prize. The only catch, it wasn’t a sport tournament like he was used to. None of that hockey, football, or whatever other sports dragons were used to. Instead, it was known as an eSport. Gallus was curious about what an eSport event was, prompting him to read the rest. The tournament was about a competitive game known as Bane. Sounded badass. Gallus just had to check it out.

Sure enough, Gallus picked up Bane and actually had a good time with it. A fast-paced, tactical hero shooter with varying heroes of different species. From dragons, riptocs, gnorcs, even some creatures from the same species as the Sorceress. Gallus was spoilt for choice. But in the end, he decided to become something known as a “Celadin Main.” Whatever that was. He just chose that because of the character. The more and more that he played, the more he thought of that tournament. And of the money. He could actually win money for playing video games. Whoever said it was a bad life choice?

Poor boy from a poor family he would be no longer, if you excuse the reference. But that was then and this was now. ‘Now’ being, well introducing Thorax to the fantastic world of video gaming.

“Now, you see, Thorax. What you’ve gotta do with this game, is that it’s all about not being an idiot and going off on your own,” said Gallus. Clearly, very eloquently put from a griffin. “This is all a teamwork game, really. You don’t have good teamwork, you’re gonna get run down—” 

Literally, the moment he stopped talking, he was nailed by a Gnorc-like character “Uh, hello? You’re playing Sel’zar! Literally NOBODY LIKES HIM because of how broken he is!” 

A creative mixture of swears filled the air, staining the air blue. Several comments about someone’s mother were involved and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess the swearing’s part of it all?” Thorax said in a surprising moment of deadpan.

Gallus let out an exasperated huff. “Sorry about that, Thorax. This kind of thing will do that to you once you spend enough time with it.”

“I gathered,” Thorax said. “Well, it could be worse. I was with a mare on-”

“Wait, you had a marefriend?” Gallus teased. “Here I thought you swung to the other side of the fence!”

“Are you always this irrelevant?” Thorax asked in an annoyed tone. “Anyways, anyways, I was with a mare once. I was desperate, okay? I needed love, and so I may or may not have posed as her marefriend.”

He said this a little too quickly. “B-But that’s besides the point, so let’s move away from that okay? Anyways, she was a fan of this game, Hoofnite, or something or other.”

“Oh Enlil, Stablenite?” Gallus said with an expression of great pain. “I got Silverstream hooked on that game once. I have regrets, many regrets.”

“Was it a bad game?” Thorax cocked a brow.

“No. It’s just that, once you get too deep into it, you end up doing all those dances looking like a total joke. Not to mention, the game’s completely festering with something called microtransactions,” Gallus explained. “And for someone like me, a griffin, the last thing that we want is to get conned out of our hard-earned money. Especially when you consider that most of that stuff goes for an arm and a leg…”

“Oh yeah…” Thorax said with a pained expression. “Oh yeah, now I remember… Though, uh, wasn’t it a griffon who came up with the game to begin with?” he asked innocently, in a tone that was way too innocent to actually be innocent. Something he picked up from Sonata actually.

“Yeah. Kinda weird when you think about it.” Gallus rubbed the back of his head. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that weird at all. If a griffon wanted money, they’d get it any way they could. “But it wouldn’t be so bad if they focused less on skins, emotes, and all that other stuff that means nothing and actually kept the game interesting. My sister likes it, not sure why, but that’s Gabby for you. Though apparently she has a feud with someone called SirenSinger9000.”

Thorax vaguely wondered if this SirenSinger9000 lived in a swamp and was annoyingly nosey.

Gabby peeked her head in, along with Silverstream. “...hey, uh, I thought the point of getting Thorax out of the house was to get him out of the house?” 

“Well, I mean uh…” Gallus stammered.

“No, it’s no trouble,” Thorax said nervously, somewhat fearful of the angry hippogriff. “I’m perfectly fine…”

“Nonsense!” Gabby said holstering him up by the arm -Thorax had to stop himself from shaking as he heard Chrysalis in his mind: “Now attend to me…”- and giving her brother a look. “You need to see the sights, really. Because trust me, sitting around here is just going to turn you into a lazybum!”





Being sufficiently gamed out and wanting to do something else for a change rather than risk the wrath of his wife and risk his marriage, Gallus made a decision. That is, to take his friends and family to the Artisans town square and treat them for a night on the town. And no, this time there were no drinks involved. Something which Gabby whined in protest at, I can tell you that much.

And no, it was totally not because she was missing out on free blackmail! No sir! 

Once again, The Withered Claw beckoned. This, if you remember, was the home to the famous or infamous depending on how you look at it- Tiamat Hellfire Mukbang Challenge. Patent pending.

“Wow, she’s lousy,” Gabby remarked at the singer on stage. Karaoke night, and everyone and their mother was out. There was some good, and some bad. And some really bad. “...can someone get her off the stage before I go deaf?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Silverstream said. “I mean, she’s not bad.”

“Yes, well, she’s not very good either is she?” Gabby countered before covering her ears with a mumble of: “Dear Enlil in heaven. Make it stopppppp…”

“I thought you said your sister was nice,” Thorax said as he leaned over to his friend.

“She can be, she’s just really passionate about some things,” Gallus explained. “Karaoke night’s really important to her, that’s all. Like super important! My sister has some interest in one day getting on Equestria’s Got Talent so…”

“Equestria’s Got Talent? Hivemother, I hope and pray for her, then,” Thorax knew how tough it was to get far in Equestria’s Got Talent. “Unless your sister’s got a really good voice, I don’t know if she’ll go that far.”

“You worried about the judges then Thorax?” Silverstream asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“Oh Hivemother, of course, I’m worried about the judges,” Thorax shivered. He wasn’t completely pop-culture illiterate, really. “There’s literally a judge who’s seen it all and has absolutely no patience for people who can’t surprise him. I think his name was Simon Cowbell… or something like that.”

“Oh Enlil yes!” Gallus nodded along. “He has to be the single most snobbiest judge I’ve ever seen! Like, did you see him on the last episode? Tell me you did. You heard his remarks didn’t you?”

“Oh yes, I did. Colder than the ice in the Icy Wilderness realm. And that is saying something!” Thorax shivered even mentioning that realm. “I feel awfully sorry for those guys and gals who get to see him.”

“I know, right?” Gallus nodded. “Like, brrrrrrr… Mister snark snark snarkiness with his Trottingham accent!”

“Oh, she’s done,” Gabby said as the mare got up off the stage. “Wish me luck boys!”

With an extra spring in her step, Gabby practically strutted to the stage. She took the mic, opened her beak, and sung. 

“Well I'm just out of school
Like I'm real, real cool
Got to dance like a fool

“Got the message that I got to be
A wild one
Ooh yeah, I'm a wild one…”

The applause was almost immediate. Gallus’ eyes widened, he knew his sister could sing but this was something completely different. He looked to his left and saw a few males swooning.

Thankfully, before he could go into overprotective big brother mode, Silverstream pulled him back into his chair with a whisper of: “Hush, and enjoy yourself for once. No need to play big brother to Gabby anymore, she’s a grown griff now.”

Thorax guessed this was a reoccurring thing, really. It had to be. Eventually, Gabby’s turn ended and she blushed under the praise, giving an awkward little smile and flipping a nervous peace sign.

“You killed it out there, Gabbs,” Silverstream said kindly. “They’ll be signing you up for record deals in no time flat, just you watch!”

“Well, um, if you say so…” Gabby mumbled some of her earlier confidence gone, and replaced with feathered flusterment. “Y-You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” Gallus said with a smile, nodding along with his wife. “Like, seriously, you killed it. Ya absolutely did!”

“Um, well, thanks…” Gabby mumbled feeling like a kid again. She perked up almost instantly as an idea hit her. “Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyy now, I’ve got an idea!”

“S-Should we run?” Thorax asked nervously, his shiny gossamer wings buzzing. 

“What, no, nonsense!” Gabby said looking directly at him. “I was thinking, hey maybe we should get you up there!”

“M-Me?” Thorax squeaked. 

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Gallus chimed in with Silver nodding along. “She’s absolutely right!”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Thorax said. “I’m probably not very good…” 

“Well, we’ll see,” Gallus said before getting an idea of his own. He started to bang his fist on the table and chant: “Thorax! Thorax!”

Soon, the crowd began to follow. “Thorax! Thorax! Thorax!”

“See, they’re cheering for you, man!” Gallus said poking his new friend in the chest. 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Thorax said. “What if I’m not very good…?”

“Does it matter?” Gallus asked.

“Oh, I’d say it does,” Thorax said. “I mean, you saw how Gabby was with the mare before her…”

Gabby, at this, had the decency to look guilty.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re not all like that,” Gallus waved his concerns off dismissively. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter, does it? You’re here to have fun and that’s what matters, right?” 

“Yeah, fun. You’re right…” Thorax said taking a few nervous steps forwards slowly growing in confidence as he stepped up to the microphone. Tapping it nervously with his hoof, it squeaked a little. The feedback nearly made Thorax flinch. He opened his mouth and began to sing…

“Hail (hail)
What's the matter with your head, yeah
Hail (hail)
What's the matter with your mind…”

Gallus snorted, of course. How so appropriate. He watched as Thorax slowly grew in confidence, only a few times stumbling over his words. Block it all out, he mouthed to the young changeling. Block it all out. Thorax saw this, and little by little the crowd began to fade from his mind as he reached the chorus section.

“Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love
Come and get your love…”

Yes, Thorax realized this was playing to stereotypes of changelings but this song served another purpose. It served to remind him of what he’d broken free of, and how he looked at his new life. He wasn’t Chrysalis’ personal pet, he wasn’t Drone 3756 anymore. He was just… Thorax, friend, and maybe more if anyone would let him. This was his oath now.

The crowd roared in approval, Thorax’s heart skipping a few beats. They liked him, they really honest to Hivemother liked him. No, loved him. He wasn’t an agent of fear and discourse. He wasn’t some love-stealing monster. He was a friend to them. His eyes felt wet before he wiped away the tears.

Oh, he shouldn’t be crying should he? Pharynx always said crying was for the weak. And Thorax, he was anything but weak. Pharynx had said as much, he remembered. He was a strong changeling in his own way.

“You. were. Awesome!” Gabby said as she pulled Thorax into a tight bear hug. Thorax’s heart stopped for -”Attend to me. Attend to me.”- a moment or two before it eased. No no, Gabby wasn’t her and she never would be. She was sweet and kind and actually… kinda cute.

Cute, did he just think cute? Of course he did. She was cute, she was. 

“I… I can’t breathe…” Thorax coughed out, Gabby blushing a bright red and releasing him. 

“Right, um, sorry, guess I don’t know my own strength,” Gabby babbled. “Gallus keeps telling me I don’t know my own strength but I never really believed him until today and… oh Enlil I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, it’s just you were so awesome and my god I’m still trying to process all that!”

“She’s right you know,” Gallus said as he placed a supportive paw on Thorax’s shoulder. “You were awesome, bud.”

“Bud?” Thorax asked. “I-I never had anyone call me that before…”

“Well,” Gallus smiled. “You do now…”

They returned home to Gallus’ house. Silverstream couldn’t help but smile as Gabby and Thorax laughed and joked together. 

“They’re good for each other, you know that right Gall-Gall?” Silverstream said with her husband blushing under the cutesy nickname.

“I thought we promised never to call me that again…” Gallus hissed out, his face blushing a bright red. “I don’t do cutesy nicknames. I am Gallus the Great and Awesome after all! I deserve better!”

“Yeah, sure you do,” Silverstream teased, patting him on the back. “Keep telling yourself that one, hun.”

“B-But, I do!” Gallus stammered out. In the meantime, Gabby and Thorax talked.

“I… I hesitate to ask, but… but what was it like for you?” Gabby asked. “B-Back in the hive I mean? I’m… I’m sorry if that was too forwards of me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Thorax said. “I have to talk about it with friends sometime I suppose… Sonata said as much.”

“Who’s Sonata, your girlfriend?” Gabby inquired.

“Well, not really,” Thorax said. “Pretty sure she’d crush me if we ever tried… well, you know!”

He flushed red.

“You’re not a normal changeling, are you?” Gabby asked.

“Oh, and how would you know what a normal changeling’s like?” Thorax inquired.

“Oh, I’ve had… experiences,” Gabby said with a wistful tone. Thorax blinked, wow he certainly wasn’t expecting that. The more you knew right? “Oh, don’t tell my bro okay? He gets so overprotective at times!”

Thorax snorted. “Oh yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“He means well, he does,” Gabby said. “But there are times when… well, I do want to smack him upside the head.”

“I know how you feel,” Thorax admitted. “Not sure if I’d ever be brave enough to smack my own big brother upside the head but… Yeah, been there!”

“Big brothers are like that, you can’t live with them…” Gabby said and Thorax finished for her.

“...you can’t live without them!” Thorax laughed. “But yeah, my brother? Pharynx? He was one of the only ones who looked out for me in the Hive. Everyone else was too scared of her, Chrysalis. Hivemother, can’t even believe I was just able to say her name right then!”

“She was that bad huh?” Gabby asked, and noticed the look on Thorax’s face. She sucked in a breath. “...shit. Like, wow… Well, don’t worry. Gabby’s got your back Thorax. We all do. Family looks after family, and you are family now.”

And this time, Thorax didn’t bother to fight the tears as they came.





Drone 6719 had news. Big news. The traitor had been found. The deserter!

Everyone in the hive had heard of him. The one who left Queen Chrysalis for… them. The ponies. Drone 3756 had always been weak, everyone knew it. Even his own clutchmate. It had been a wonder Queen Chrysalis had even considered taking him for her own. Never mind actually doing it!

By the Hivemother, what had she been thinking?

Drone 6719 was a much better lover anyways! His many mates could attest to that! He would have been a much better choice for the queen anyways!

But all the same, he along with many others had been placed around the Kingdoms in search of information. Possible ways to take one of these Kingdoms, maybe. But what nobody had expected was seeing Drone 3756 out in public with dragons. Socializing, and fraternizing with them! He’d probably even laid with one by this point!

How disgusting.

Yes, Drone 3756 was something of a problem.

A problem that would have to be dealt with. His Queen deserved to know about this. Maybe, Drone 6719 thought hopefully she would deal with this herself. The dragons would bow down in fear and wonder at the glory of his Queen! And then maybe, just maybe, she would lay with him!

Yes, Drone 6719 thought to himself. Life was potentially looking up.





Pharynx, since his brother had left months back, found himself worrying and fretting over what had happened. His brother was strong yes, but not that strong. The realms beyond the Badlands presented many challenges. Chiefest amongst them was the fact that changelings were hated and feared.

Personally, Pharynx didn’t mind this but his brother was softer and gentler than he. He had… sympathy for the other races, something that beguiled Pharynx at him. He’d always known his brother was different. Maybe a good kind of different, but still different. 

In some ways, this might have been his greatest strength and his greatest of failings. At times, Pharynx wished his brother was more of a warrior. A more traditional warrior anyways. He wouldn’t have to protect him so much. Starting from childhood, he’d been nothing but a thorn in the others’ sides. Considered weak and not fit for service in the hive. Pharynx, as he grew up, believed this at times as well. 

That’s when he slowly but sure began to realize, well maybe Thorax’s kindness was his greatest asset. Made him easier to assimilate into pony villages and steal love out from under them. But what nobody had realized, not even Pharynx himself at the time, was that perhaps Thorax’s kindness was too great.

He simply did not like stealing love from others. He wanted to experience it for himself, true love. That was an impossibility for a changeling, even a kind one. It was the harsh truth of the matter.

Changelings could steal love, but they could never truly experience it. They were far too hated and feared for it.

And yet… Pharynx rejoiced when Thorax had finally made his escape. The Hive wasn’t right for him, and Queen Chrysalis… 

Queen Chrysalis, well she was not the kind of Queen his brother should associate with at all.

Pharynx would have been a fool if he lied to himself. He, at times, did harbor traitorous thoughts to his Queen. He quickly squashed them whenever they returned, but still, they came. He knew why. It was because what his Queen -should he even call her that?- had done to his brother.

It was… Honestly, Pharynx didn’t know what to think of it at all. He just hoped wherever his brother was, it was somewhere far better than here. It had to be, for his own sake. For both of theirs.





Queen Chrysalis the Great had been called many things in her time. Tyrant. Lover. Monster. Witch. Queen of all that is. 

She accepted every title with great affection. The world would be poorer without her. Under her guidance, the other kingdoms were kept in line. None bothered to rise against one another. All stayed in their places. Love was keeping them in line. Oh yes, and fear also. Whenever the kingdoms threatened to unite, she just stepped in and had them fight amongst themselves once again.

A few whispered words here, a few seeds of distrust sown there… 

Well then, it was hardly her fault that nobody really liked each other. Oh, they liked to pretend that they were all allies but in truth? Given the right incentive, they’d all turn against one another yet again.

That was how it used to be, really. Then came Spike the Brave and Glorious, the bridge between realms. He was both of the Dragon Realms and of Equestria. He preached love and tolerance between the two races, not fear and distrust.

That could not stand. If ponies and dragons were to ever unite… well, the safety of her kingdom was at risk.

Her drones deserved better than to be assimilated into pony and dragonkind. She was the only friend that they ever needed.

However, it seemed one drone begged to differ. Of course, Chrysalis should have known it would be him. Yes, Drone 3756 was something of a problem. He’d always been weak. It shouldn’t have surprised Chrysalis that he defected, and yet he did. And now… And now! Here, she took several breaths to calm herself. And now he was living amongst dragons and griffins and hippogriffs and Hivemother only knew what else. This could not stand.

This could not stand.
> 17: War Council
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So....” Spike breathed out. “That’s the situation.”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The location was the Castle of Dragons. A single tall tower sat high in the mountain peaks just outside of the natural boundaries of any of the five realms. It belonged to all dragons and yet belonged to none. It was, simply put, a neutral ground where dragon representatives from all five corners of the realms could meet and discuss big political situations. 

Such as the one bubbling to the surface, and currently threatening to boil over just now. The Matter of Queen Chrysalis the Great, as it was starting to be called. 

“I don’t see why it’s our problem,” Lateef said, the Dream Weavers dragon hovering above the ground, and looking like he was about to fall asleep on the spot. It wasn’t out of boredom, at least Spike didn’t think so. It was more likely the simple fact that he had been asked to stay up way later in the day then he would have liked. The Dream Weavers did their best work after sundown. “She’s hardly bothered anyone for generations.”

“Damn it, man!” Nestor snarled, slamming one meaty fist on the table in front of them. Cups and plates rattled, wine goblets spilling their contents. “Just because she isn’t causing trouble now doesn’t mean she won’t suddenly decide: “Ulp, those dragons are getting too big for their britches, and I quite like their castles!” in the future!”

“You’re a crafter Nestor,” Lateef said. “What do you know in the ways of battle?”

“A fair bit more than you, I think,” Nestor snapped. “See these arms of mine? You think I got them by sitting around weaving pleasant dreams for dragonkind?”

“It’s not just pleasant dreams we weave…” Lateef growled.

“Is that a threat?” Maximos, the current representative for the Peace Keepers said as he jumped towards his friend’s defense. 

“More like a simple observation,” Lateef said with another tired yawn. “A… reminder.”

“You know,” Maximos said. “If you’re so tired you can barely stay away, why are you even bothered to be here? Go back to your bed, curl up, and dream away. It’s what you do isn’t it?”

Spike knew they normally weren’t this bad, at least he hoped not. It had to be the looming threat of Chrysalis. It just had to be. She scared everyone, and with good reason. She was the mare behind great calamities right and left, manipulating everyone like chess pieces on a board. Manipulating them till everything fell into place, and she never had to even leave her castle half of the time.

Spike’s breath caught in his throat. What if… what if one of her drones or worse Chrysalis herself was in the room at this very moment? What if she was playing everyone like puppets on strings right now? This was how she worked, after all. Sowing discord, and distrust. 

But… no. He couldn’t think like that, he couldn’t give in to fear and paranoia. He couldn’t let her win. 

“I will have you know when the time to fight is upon us, I am your first line of defense,” Lateef said the air suddenly growing more oppressive. Thunder rumbled in the background as the room darkened. “It is we who give our enemies nightmares, and wear them down before they even reach the battlefront! An exhausted army is an in-effective army, is it not?”

“And what if they somehow manage to press on through, in spite of all this? What if they go for you?” Maximos reasoned. “You and your dragons, their capabilities are well known. A smart enough enemy would go for you first. You and your dragons have had to barely lift a claw to fight. You’d be easy pickings!”

“I assure you,” Lateef said. “Catching us off guard as you propose is hardly as easy as you think. In our realm, our power is greater than ever.”

“Yes, but-”

“I think we’ve argued the point enough,” Nestor said, massaging his temples with a claw. “Lateef and his dragons can defend themselves. We have more important matters to focus on as is…”

“Yes, like Queen Chrysalis,” Maximos said, his signature mace laying next to his chair. “Is it not our way to help those in need? Thorax needs us, his hive needs us!”

Zantor begged to differ, the skinny gold dragon placing his hat on the table. “Thorax needs us, yes, but does the rest of his hive need us? They may not want our help. In fact, by all accounts, they seem to be perfectly content under Chrysalis’ rule. It’s not our place to interfere.”

“Is it?” Bubba asked, gnawing on a piece of wheat. “Do the drones even know they’re suffering?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Zantor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Think about it,” Bubba said. “It is their way of life, and-”

“Exactly!” Zantor butted in. “It is their way of life, and it’s not our place to change it.”

“But it’s wrong!” Bubba shouted back.

“To us yes,” Zantor said. “To them, no. Look at it this way. The drones? To them stealing love is as simple as breathing. Chrysalis has taught them this. Just because one drone has realized it’s wrong, doesn’t mean the rest will up and suddenly decide it is. They like their lot in life.”

“Only because they know no difference!” Bubba roared, spitting out his piece of wheat. “They’ve had nobody to teach them right from wrong. They’ve only had Chrysalis, who I might add is not the most stable of parents.”

“To them she is,” Zantor replied. “To them, she is life. She is their Queen. If you were asked to defect from your Queen, or King, or whatever, what would your first answer be?”

“That’s besides the point!” Bubba said. “We have no ruler!”

“But if we did?” Zantor asked calmly, flipping through his cards.

“I… I would stay loyal, I guess…” Bubba admitted.

“Exactly,” Zantor replied. “No changeling drone unless given a good solid reason, would ever defect. They don’t have any reason to defect. Why would they? From all accounts, they’re as happy as can be!”

“Listen here magician!” Bubba hissed out. “After Smolder and Garble’s parents passed, Tiamat bless their souls, I tried to do right by them. I’m a parent, and any parent should tell you that the first thing you do is treat your kid right. Raise them up all proper like. I don’t think Chrysalis is raising her kids all proper like, do you?”

“It is still not our place to interfere,” Zantor said. “The political boundaries are too strong. If we were to attack the Hive, our standing with the fellow nations would be in grave danger.”

“You’re worried about political standing when… when…” Bubba almost snapped when he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He looked at Nestor. “My apologies.”

“Please, learn to control your temper,” Nestor said. “Nothing will ever be solved by getting angry and fighting amongst ourselves.”

“...as if anything ever will be solved by this point,” Spike thought to himself traitorously. He suppressed a groan. “This is turning out so well, isn’t it?”





“It’s not going well, is it?” Thorax said with a sad little sigh, sliding back against the wall. His wings buzzed nervously. He could hear the shouting from one floor above him.

“These types of things never do,” Cynder said with a weary nod. She was dressed in full armor, with her sword strapped to her. She was one of several bodyguards stationed throughout the castle, ready to spring into action upon a moment’s notice. “Your Queen has long been a source of fear amongst dragonkind. Changelings in general actually.”

“Explains some of the looks I’ve been getting since I got here…” Thorax mumbled, eyeing another heavily muscled dragon. Thorax waved nervously but got only a glare in response. Great Hivemother, how jacked were these dragons? Was it a requirement or something?

“Fear’s a powerful deterrent,” Cynder continued. “A previous Queen, Carapace, slaughtered many a dragon elder. For some, the memories are still fresh. The stories of her wraith have been handed down from generation to generation. I grew up with several.”

“And… and what do you think of me?” Thorax asked nervously, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“I judge a creature by their actions, not the circumstances of their birth,” Cynder said warmly, kindly. Her voice was the same motherly tone she used when speaking to her son. In hindsight, Thorax would realize, this was where Spike got his kindness. Not from his father, but from her.

“A-And what do you think of my actions?” Thorax asked.

“You are an interesting sort,” Cynder said.

“Good interesting, or bad interesting?” Thorax asked.

“What do you think?” Cynder asked. “You’re… well, you. To think that one small drone could potentially change our whole views on changelings.”

“Potentially,” Thorax repeated. “Because right now, I don’t think anyone here is accepting me with open arms…”

“Change always starts small, does it not?” Cynder asked. “Roam wasn’t built in a day, and neither will you be winning over all of dragon kind in a single week. You’ll have to play the long game, win over hearts and minds. It starts with us, my family. Your family. Then it spreads out, does it not?” 

“I sometimes think I should have turned into a dragon, and won them over that way…” Thorax mumbled.

“And when your disguise inevitably failed?” Cynder asked as she raised an eyebrow. “The dragons would feel betrayed. It is better to win them over as yourself, than live a lie and face judgment for when that lie falls apart.”

“You’re… you’re not at all what I thought you’d be, you know that right?” Thorax admitted.

“Oh, and what did you think I’d be?” Cynder asked.

“I… I dunno. It’s just when you hear someone called ‘The Terror of the Skies’ you don’t immediately think of someone like you. Someone so warm, and so kind. Someone so…”

“Motherly?” Cynder asked. “Yes, well, as I’ve found parenthood has a way of changing someone really. I was so angry before, you know that right? Didn’t really care about anyone, except perhaps my future husband along with Maximos and maybe Nestor. I’ve been blessed really.”

“I… I want to be a parent someday,” Thorax admitted. “Maybe not now, but… someday. Raise my kids right, do everything that witch I used to call my Queen didn’t do for me.”

“You’d make a good parent,” Cynder said with a slow nod of approval. “I can honestly say you would.”

“R-Really, you think so?” Thorax asked. “I… I wish I shared your confidence, really. I don’t actually know how to raise kids…”

“Well, it’s not like they come with instruction manuals!” Cynder drawled.

“It’s just… I’m afraid. Afraid of repeating the cycle. Afraid of repeating the same cycle that Chrysalis started with me,” Thorax admitted. “All my life I’ve grown up with her and her teachings and yet…”

“Listen to yourself,” Cynder said, lowering herself down to meet Thorax’s eyes. “You know what’s right, and what’s wrong. You know what Chrysalis did to you and to your hive mates is wrong. You know what not to repeat. What she did to you… it’s beyond the pale really. But you know it’s wrong, correct?”

“Y-Yeah, I do…” Thorax said.

“Then you know what to avoid,” Cynder said firmly. “You’ll not become another Chrysalis. I know it. I have faith in you. Spike does as well, and so does his mate. Isn’t that really all you need?”

“Hey… do you think… No… They wouldn’t…” Thorax thought to himself aloud.

“I think they probably would, actually!” Cynder said.

“You don’t even know what I was thinking about!” Thorax replied.

“I mean, I can probably guess. Smolder’s told me the way you patrol her nest, Spike as well. You want to be those eggs’ godfather, right?” 

“I… yeah, I do,” Thorax said. “I’m not sure why. Is it love, is it wanting me to redeem myself from Chrysalis’ mistakes? Is it me wanting to improve my own reputation? I’m… just not sure. Maybe it’s all of them.”

“Whatever it is,” Cynder said. “I think you’ll do a great job.”





“So what do we do then?” Maximos had to ask. “Chrysalis is out there, biding her time. I doubt she’ll just let Thorax walk away.”

“Assuming she even knows,” Lateef pointed out. “Or cares even. What’s the loss of one small drone to a large hive like that? Thorax, to her, is beneath notice. A drop in the ocean.”

“He does raise a good point…” Zantor admitted. “Oh, I have no doubt Chrysalis knows her drone is missing but why would she even care?”

“Because she’s petty,” Bubba said. “We all know this. She’s an egotistical witch. Paranoid too. If she believes one changeling can betray her, -never mind being proven right- she’ll think the others can as well!”

“If she’s really that paranoid, why hasn’t she slaughtered her whole hive?” Lateef said. “Just to prevent the possibility?”

“Because she’s not stupid,” Nestor returned. “She needs workers. It’s not like she can gather slaves either. Nations would notice their subjects going missing. Chrysalis thrives by not drawing attention to herself. She works best from the shadows.”

“She sure drew a huge amount of attention to herself at that wedding a few years back,” Bubba pointed out.

“I suspect she didn’t intend to. Her plans were thwarted,” Zantor said sagely. “Her plan, I suspect, was to kidnap and replace. Suck all of Canterlot’s ponies dry, including the Princesses of the Sun and Moon and then replace them with her own puppet rulers. She’d control both a major supply of love and a major economy. Win win for her, eh?”

“Thank Bahamut that never came to pass…” Maximos muttered. “But we’re getting off the subject. If Chrysalis is as petty as friend Bubba proclaims, she’s going to be pissed.”

“But pissed enough to invade a whole country?” Lateef asked, stroking his beard.

“Who’s to say she hasn’t already started?” Nestor asked worriedly. “Any one of us could be changelings and we’d never notice until it was too late.”

“Nestor!” Maximos scolded. “Don’t joke about such matters. Don’t even think about it!”

“Who said he was joking?” Lateef asked. “It is a distinct possibility, don’t lie…”

“Okay, assuming this is all true, how would we even find her drones?” Nestor asked.

“I can have Eldrid and the others whip up some potions to find the imposters. It’d be simple to just slip them in the water,” Zantor said. “And that would be that!”

“Hold up,” Bubba asked nervously. “Should we really be talking so openly about plans like that? As Nestor suggested, it is entirely possible a changeling is in the room. Any one of us could be one!”

“So, better for them to know we’re coming for them!” Maximos bellowed, raising his mace up high. “Let them cower in fear, and know all dragons are after them!”

“Besides,” Nestor said calmly. “Assuming any one of us is a changeling, there would be no way to prove it currently. They have our memories, so any questions asked would be answered exactly.”

“Grandad’s right,” Spike said, his scales bristling at the possibility. “It’s not like we can just easily prove any one of us is a changeling. Hell, for all I know I could be speaking to five changelings, or you could, or you could, or you could!” he went on pointing to each dragon in the room. 

“So basically, we all have to assume both the worst and the best of each other?” Zantor asked. “Assume that every one of us is a changeling?” 

“Mhmm, yes,” Nestor said. “There is nothing we can do but assume that.”

“And live our lives in paranoia?” Bubba asked. “I don’t like it. We could all end up slaughtering each other in fear before the day is out!”

“Wait wait wait,” Zantor said raising his arms in a placating gesture. “Let’s calm down here and think for a moment. If we were all changelings, plotting to kill each other, don’t you think we’d all know who is and who isn’t a changeling? We all would have had some secret message or code. I don’t remember one, do you?”

“It could all be too easy to lie about not remembering,” Spike pointed out. “I think if any one of us were a changeling, and didn’t know about it… we’d all think to ourselves, hey maybe we should assume every one of us is a changeling. I think we’re all smarter than that, don’t you? If we were all drones, we’d not even consider the possibility of accidentally raising our arms against one another. Wouldn’t want to kill off your fellow drone and raise the ire of your queen right?”

He looked around the room as if to dare anyone to argue. Spike gazed at Nestor, then at Maximos, then at Zantor. He gazed at Bubba, and then at Lateef. He dared anyone to argue this.

“Right…” Maximos admitted with a little slow nod, low murmurs of agreement to follow. “As ever, leave it up to the young to consider the wisest of choices!”

“So… what, do we just go on about our business?” Zantor asked nervously. “We all leave and pretend to not think about the possibility changelings have infiltrated the highest of levels?”

“We do exactly that,” Nestor said. “We do not let fear rule us. We show Chrysalis we are not afraid. Life goes on. Zantor, prepare that potion. In a few days, we shall know who is a changeling and who is not!”

More murmurs of agreement were soon to follow. Spike wasn’t entirely sure what had been settled, if anything at all. But he knew fear had passed. If only he could tell Thorax that Queen Chrysalis was no longer anyone’s concern…
> 18: Surprises, surprises are always bad
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorax had finally found himself a peaceful life. Married, with kids of his own. Little changeling grubs to care for as his own. 

Chrysalis was only a distant memory. He’d found himself a little place not that far from Spike’s castle, so he could easily visit his friend whenever he wanted. It was a particularly pleasant day, the air nice and humid warning of rain later in the evening.

He found himself wandering outside into the swamps, fireflies already starting to appear from their holes and take to the skies.

Off in the distance stood Spike’s Castle, rising high above the treetops. On a good day, when the sky was nice and clear, you could see it’s lord and master flying above the highest tower. Circling around it, sometimes perched atop it to survey it’s kingdom.

“How long has it been since you got that thing, Spike?” Thorax asked himself, sighing in contentment as he remembered all of the good times that he had shared with his friends; far away from the scars of his past. “You, Gallus, Silverstream, and especially Smolder. How are they all doing?”

“Didn’t take you for a sentimental,” Sonata said, her massive form slowly rising out of the swamp waters. Thorax swore she got bigger every year, and wondered how long it’d be before this swamp could no longer sustain her. This year, or maybe the next she’d be forced to make her way to the seas, and that’d probably be the last anyone saw of her.

She rested her flippers on a nearby wooden pier, the wood creaking under their weight. For a brief moment, Thorax wondered if the pier would give out and crumble into the dark waters.

“Well, what can I say? I wanna remember all of the good times that I had. The more I think about them, the less I think about…” He shivered for a brief moment as he heard her laughter echoing in his ears. “Her.”

“She’s still out there, you know,” Sonata said. “Lurking, plotting… She’s a plotter! And I’m not talking about her butt, though I admit it is fine. Like, mmph. Yummy! ...aside from the whole bug tyrant queen thing, but evil’s always been sorta sexy you know?”

Thorax only scoffed. “You’re just saying that because of your sisters, aren’t you?” He said, reminded of the days where Sonata, Aria, and Adagio would terrorize the creatures of the other realms purely for their anger. At least, that’s what he’d heard. Aria had happily married herself off to some relative of Spyro’s rumor had it, and Adagio… well, for all he knew she was with some new pod somewhere. “Honestly, there’s more to someone than just what they do. It’s one of the reasons why I decided to leave her behind in the first place. I’m a Changeling, but do I really have to blindly follow her laws like some kind of drone?”

“Technically, you sorta did,” Sonata said with a small little shrug. “Drone, it’s sorta in the job description. But so sue me, I’m attracted to power. Well, that and really bad girls. Hit me harder Master! Yummy.”

Something nagged at the back of Thorax’s mind. Something about this whole scenario was… off. Something about Sonata… He pushed it out of his mind. It was probably nothing.

“So how’s the kids?” Sonata said. “I know, I know, I just saw them a few days ago but something might have changed! Plus, I love a good gossip! Oh, these fireflies rarely have anything interesting. It’s always haiku this and haiku that. There’s only so many times you can hear someone talk about poetry before it loses its luster, right?”

“I think if I remember correctly, Spyro’s friend, Sheila, said that she never wanted to hear those fireflies saying that they ‘went boom again’,” Thorax joked. “Y’know, if carrying bombs to set those eggs free was that important, then why not just give it to her instead of carrying it yourself?”

“Loss of magic?” Sonata said searching for an answer. “I mean, that’s what I heard. If that meanie the Sorceress hadn’t sucked all of the magic out of the realms, well the Fireflies could have probably solved their own problems. Of course, if the Sorceress never came to the realms, there wouldn’t have been any problems, and oh dear I think I’ve gone all crosseyed.”

“Careful Sonata,” Thorax said. “If you think any harder, I think I’ll be able to see the smoke.”

“Oh, you,” Sonata flirted seductively, tipping her flipper idly. Even when not in cahoots with a pair of other sirens, she still had the sexiness and allure of one. “Anyways, how’re the kids? Are they doing alright? How’s the wife? ...or is that a husband? I can never remember.”

Sonata should know which was which, Thorax told himself. So why didn’t she?

“They’re… they’re great. Scorch, he’s finally learning to control his flame. Thinking of setting up a playdate with Spike’s and Smolder’s kids. ...Hopefully we won’t burn anyone’s castle down. That’d… that’d be fairly embarrassing. I mean, I’d probably get banned from that castle for life!”

“There wouldn’t be a castle to ban you from.” Sonata chirped.

“Geee, thanks,” Thorax said sarcastically. “Thanks for that reminder.”

“No problem!” Sonata beamed. “But really, if you’re a dragon and you plan to have kids, why build a castle in a forest? Highly flammable, and oh yeah there’s the swamp gas! One single spark and… WHOOMP! Am I right, or am I right? Seriously, walking fire hazards!”

“...you’re a real confidence-builder, you know that right?” Thorax drawled, having picked up the subtle art of sarcasm from his brother long ago.

“I know right?” Sonata beamed and Thorax’s face fell, reminded that sarcasm was pretty much lost on Sonata. It flew right over her head. Actually, a lot of things did. Metaphors for example. Oh, he remembered the time he tried to explain metaphors. It basically ended with Sonata saying nothing flew over her head, her jaws were too fast and she’d catch it. 

“Well, you…” Thorax started before the whole world began to shift. Day turned to night, darkness falling over the forest. Flames were blown out by a gust of wind, and the air became a deathly chill. “...Sonata?”

Thorax turned his head searching for what had happened to her, but then when turned he found his house beginning to fade away. His family, gone in a blink of the eye. 

“THORAX!” a voice called out from the gloom, beckoning him deeper into the swamp. Nervously, Thorax followed and a fine mist surrounded him before forming into a deep blue figure. 

“P-Princess Luna, what are you…” Thorax stammered before his face fell as he realized. “This is a dream isn’t it? My… my family, none of it was actually real.”

“I’m afraid not, no,” Luna shook her head sympathetically.

“I knew something was off. Sonata… Now I remember. She knows how much I suffered under Chrysalis’ rule. She’s nowhere near that insensitive normally.” Thorax said, chastising himself for not realizing earlier.

“Thorax, I’m afraid we haven’t much time,” Luna said. “You’re one of the only ones I could get to. You need to wake up, Queen Chrysalis, she’s… Oh no. They’re here. Now awake, and up and about with you!”

Then the whole world went white, and Thorax shot up his eyes wide.





Nervously, he decided to set about the castle halls to investigate. Something was wrong, Luna had been terrified. What could scare the former Nightmare Moon so much? Thorax wasn’t even sure if he wanted to know. And the castle… normally it wasn’t this silent.

Thorax got out from his bed, and as his feet touched the ground, he could tell that something was up. And not the usual kind of something. This was big. He could feel that it was. The air had grown cold around him; the kind of stereotypical cold that would normally be seen in horror movies or those cheesy cartoons when they tried to do a dark scene in a normally friendly, bright, and colorful animated show.

He’d take the wind and the lightning right now thank you very much.

Grabbing a candle, he set into the halls. His hooves nervously clopped against the stone floor, his black chitlin nearly fading into the shadows.

“Come on Spike, Smolder…” Thorax murmured nervously to himself. “Where are you?”

What did Luna say to him? Something… something about Queen Chrysalis before she got cut off, and he was forced awake. Thorax’s eyes widened. Oh no. He broke into a gallop, and he rounded a corner having memorized the layout of this castle perfectly.

Down some stairs he went, and he found himself in the nesting area. Oh, thank the Hivemother. Spike and Smolder’s eggs were perfectly alright. Though, for how long… well, that was another question entirely. 

“Okay, okay, Thorax. You’re going to have to assume everyone in this castle has been captured, and as we’re right on Equestria’s borders, with how Luna was acting? You’ll have to assume they’ve been compromised as well. So, you can’t expect any help from them anytime soon. What about the rest of the Dragon Realms? ...well, for the time being you’ll have to assume they’re under changeling control. This is a really fine situation you’ve gotten yourself into isn’t it?”

He looked back at the eggs. No, they were not going to get captured. Not while he was around. He had to get these eggs out of the castle, and quickly. Thorax took a nervous swallow, now how did his brother do it? Oh yes, now he remembered. Spitting up a wad of slime, he covered the eggs and holstered the clutch onto his back. There were a few caves near here, ones that Sonata used as her resting places. They were only accessible by water, and all he had to do was hide the eggs away in one of them. 

As soon as the realms were free, he’d… 

“Listen to yourself Thorax,” the drone told himself, his wings buzzing nervously. “You’re assuming you can free the realms. You’re alone, and probably all of your friends have been captured. You should just take the eggs and run!”

But then what, Thorax wondered. If he just ran and hid, Chrysalis would find him eventually. He knew that’s why she was here. To get him back. It was the only explanation. Chrysalis was never this bold unless she wanted something. And to challenge the dragons was tantamount to suicide. Chrysalis was risking it all, and the only possible reason why she would be was… him.

No, he was done running. He had to put an end to this here and now. But… how? Right, right. One step at a time. Get the eggs to safety, then worry about the particulars.

Thorax snatched the eggs up as fast as he could and silently sprinted out of the nest as fast as his hole-coated legs could carry him. He dare not stop or look back at the sight, lest his stomach churn again. All of it was far too similar. And it could only mean one thing; the very Changeling Queen that he had run away from was extending her reach to the dragon realms; likely snatching up every single dragon she could lay her eyes on; replacing them with her drones. 

It was bad enough that the Changelings could become any creature; but a whole race of Changelings as dragons was enough to make Thorax’s blood run cold. Well, colder than usual.

His heart nearly stopped as soon as he ran smack dab into another drone. Featureless like him, only assigned a number. Never a name. His own had been Drone 3756. Chrysalis never called them by their real names. That would just create the illusion that she actually cared.

“So where are you going in such a hurry, drone?” the changeling lieutenant asked. Please, please don’t notice his shiny wings, Thorax pleaded. “Somewhere important to be?”

Lie, lie, lie!

“I have to get these eggs to the hive, before they hatch. Who knows, maybe we can brainwash the little ones,” Thorax said feeling sick with himself even as he said it. He all too easily fell back into obedient drone mode. “Hey, when they grow up we’d have our own personal squad of dragons to guard the hive! Imagine that!”

The drone examined Thorax from head to toe. It wasn’t in his place to question the orders of a drone like him, but there was some kind of haste in his voice; the kind of haste that reeked of some kind of another ulterior motive. But what was he to judge? After all, he was just another slave to the queen, just like this whelp before him. Any order that had been given to him, he had to follow; no matter how outlandish it was.

“Fine. Go!” The other drone hissed, throwing his holed arm down the hallway. “Hatch those youngling eggs!”

Thorax was out of the castle before long, shifting into the form of a siren and grabbing the cluster in his mouth. He swam down into one of the many little caverns, and went up. A little air pocket, hidden away from the rest of the world. And only two creatures -the other being Sonata- knew about it. The perfect spot to keep these eggs safe. 

Kissing one of them, Thorax whispered: “I’ll be back for you, I promise.”

Diving back into the waters, he returned to the castle shores pulling himself out of the water. He shifted back into his usual form, taking an extra bit of care to disguise his wings as their original state. Thorax sighed in relief, never had he thought looking just like every other drone would ever come in handy. 

“Now, Spike…” Thorax said to himself. “Where are you?”

Guess he’d have to talk to one of the other drones again. Yay. 

Taking a deep breath, he found the nearest drone. A guard, recognizable by his distinct midnight blue-tinted armor. “Hey, just wondering. There were two dragons here right? What happened to them?”

He had to sound natural, not too inquisitive but just curious enough. Hopefully this drone would buy it.

“The dragons that you’re talking about have likely been captured by the queen,” said the drone. “Such are her orders. Subjugate the realms, spread her reach, make sure that absolutely nothing, and no-one stops her plans for realm-wide dominion. These dragons deserve to be part of her brood until the end of time if you want my honest opinion.”

Thorax swore under his breath. Yeah, he suspected as much. “You know where they might have been taken? I just want to mock them, you know? Say that we’ve won, and how their arrogant asses have been completely beaten. Rub it in their faces, you know?”

“Saw two big cocoons being moved to the dungeons,” the other drone said. “Apparently, a few of the drones were complaining about how their backs were about to give out. Weaklings,” He scoffed. “A changeling that complains about their work and wants another way is no changeling at all. They put up or shut up as all insects do.”

Thorax blocked out the drone’s ramblings about how most insects could carry 5,000 times their own body weight anyways. He knew where to look now.

He remembered the previous owner of this castle, some evil sorcerer. So of course he’d have a dungeon. Wouldn’t be too hard to find. Sure enough, just down the nearest stairs…

And he knew just how to get rid of all the guards as well! A flash of green flame and he was no longer Thorax but Queen Chrysalis. 

“Guards, leave them,” ‘Chrysalis’ said, Thorax hoping he could pull off the role long enough. “I’ll be taking these two back to my Hive myself. Hahaha, the dragon of two realms. It’ll be such an honor to have him and his mate as my personal… pets.”

The drones bowed before the queen immediately and let her pass. “Right, I can only get one of you free before that one guard gets suspicious. Chrysalis is supposed to be in her hive, and I was the only seen going down here. The drones here are dumb, but not that dumb.”

He sliced open Spike’s cocoon with his horn, watching Spike tumble out of the green mass. Some residual slime and bile came with him. And it wasn’t until it all hit the ground that Spike started to twitch ever so slightly.

His nostrils lit up with green flame. “Chrysalis…” he growled.

“Sorry, got the wrong bug,” Thorax smiled weakly as he changed back. “Now, we have to get out of here. We’ll have to come back for Smolder later, because…” 

Sure enough, the guard from before was shouting to grab the traitor.

“You’re popular,” Spike said before casting one last longing look at his mate. “I’ll be back, Mate of Mine. I promise.”

Spike swinging his tail sent all the drones flying. “Come on! There’s a portal out of here just upstairs!”

What happened next was all a blur, Spike rampaging through the castle halls sending drones flying. Into a portal they went, and soon they found themselves in Gallus’ house. Spike readied his flames, just in case. 

Gallus peeked his head from behind a corner, sword in hand. Well, it could have been Gallus, Spike could never be too sure right now.

“Spike? Thorax? What are you doing here?!” Gallus asked in surprise.

“Tell me when you were born, who your parents are, and your first pet. Tell me something so odd, something only you would know,” Spike said, remembering from his talks with Thorax that changelings could only recall recent memories. “Tell me now, or I’ll roast you alive.”

Gallus could see the fire in Spike’s eyes. “Alright, alright! But I don’t think you’re gonna like this.” Gallus gulped and finally said, “When I was a hatchling trying to fly, I lost control and fell into a muddy ditch. Most of the other kids in Griffonstone called me Mudbird for weeks after that.” He drooped his head and let out a painful sigh as he recalled the laughter of the kids in his mind. “That's enough proof for you?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah, that’s good,” Spike said before smashing the portal behind him with his tail. “It’s finally happened, the changelings have gotten to the dragon realms.”

“And Equestria,” Thorax said nervously. “I… I swear, I had nothing to do with it! I only found out because Luna told me right before she was…” 

He couldn’t even say it. Acknowledging the Princess of the Night had been captured in her own bed was acknowledging the fact that they’d probably lost already. 

“Before she was what, Thorax?” Gallus tilted his head.

“...we’re screwed, we’re so screwed…” Thorax whispered. “Chrysalis has won and there’s nothing we can do about it. I’ve had nightmares about this, but… but I never thought they’d come true. Spyro, Cynder, the Elders, the Royal Sisters… all of them, c-c-cap…”

Thorax felt like he was going to be sick, and he soon was. 

“Hey, it’s okay…” Silverstream’s voice whispered in his ear, the hippogriff royal holding him close. “It’s alright, we’ll figure something out.”

Thorax wished he could believe her.

“So what, we just sneak into Chrysalis’ hive, knock her off of her throne and rescue everyone. Bing, bang, boom,” Gallus said slamming a fist into his outstretched palm. “Easy as pie, right?”

“It’s never that easy, Gallus.” Thorax shook his head. “I know Queen Chrysalis better than anyone. Don’t you get it? If it was so easy to take out Chrysalis, someone would have done it decades ago. She’s got… I don’t know how to explain it. Anti-Magic? Apparently it was to keep out Celestia or Discord. That’s how strong it is. Her throne… it’s the source of it. If you get within even a mile of it, say goodbye to your magic!”

“So, can’t you just burn it to the ground with Spike’s flames?” Gallus asked.

“My flames are magic,” Spike corrected. 

“So we’re screwed then?” Gallus said. “Greeeeeeaaattt…” 

“No, we’re just… inconvenienced,” Spike said. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t you remember, when we’re together nothing can stop us.”

“Bah, you sound a bit too much like a pony,” Gallus grumbled. “Friendship is magic and all of that!”

“Well, I am the dragon ambassador to Equestria…” Spike smiled.





Chrysalis was a self-satisfied mare. She’d been growing fat and plump on her victory. Her greatest yet. Now both the Dragon Realms and Equestria were under her control. In a single night, all of their high-ranking figures had been replaced with her drones.

Every part of the two nations was now an extension of herself. The Mane Six were no longer a worry. This time, they couldn’t rally to their nations’ aid. And the best part? Princess Cadence was right here cocooned above her throne room for all time.

Chrysalis wanted to laugh, she may never have to go out to feast again. Having the Princess of Love as her captive? She could sustain herself for probably decades to come, perhaps centuries if she played her cards right.

“Oh, and we mustn't forget about you…” Chrysalis said lowering a cocoon and looking at the mare inside it. “Celestia.”

Chrysalis did laugh this time, throwing back her head and laughing long and loud. Seeing the Princess of the Sun’s surprised expression frozen like that for eternity? That alone was a victory. 

Hmm, should she? Oh, why not? Ripping open Celestia’s cocoon only slightly with her hoof, Chrysalis allowed the mare to regain consciousness. Then she did the same to Cadence. 

“Surprised, Celly-Belly?” Chrysalis remarked as she watched the mare struggle to free herself. “Oh, don’t bother. You won’t ever be able to get free. Neither will you, Candy! So don’t even try. Besides, there’s not much you can do anyways. Know why I’m gloating? Know why I’m allowed to gloat? It’s because you, without your magic, are nothing.”

Celestia lowered her brows into a fiery gaze as she came face-to-face with her captor. “Just you wait, Chrysalis. Your moment won’t last forever.” She snarled.

“Ooh, you’re such a brave little captive, aren’t you?” Chrysalis sniggered as she brushed her hoof against Celestia’s cheeks. “Even in the face of defeat, you’re still as defiant as ever. Good. I like my prey to be extra fiery.”

“Spike will stop you!” Cadence said, though from the sounds of it she barely believed her own words.

“Oh please, the ambassador?” Chrysalis said, giving a little dismissive wave of her hoof. “Got him too, him and his mate!”

She thoroughly enjoyed the look of horror and despair on Cadence’s face.

“Oh, by the way. I was surprised when I saw you had a daughter. How much did you have to convince Shiny to let you give him a kid? And oh dear Hivemother, I can’t imagine what magic you had to use. Stallion can’t get it up in bed, because oh trust me I checked,” Chrysalis cackled. “He’s hardly worth the effort. Really Candy, you could have done so much better. For a pony I mean. Honestly? I’d have happily shown you a real good time. You know what they say right? You haven’t had fun until you’ve had fun with a changeling!”

“You just love to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” Cadence said with narrowed eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I can hold much of a conversation with the rest of these idiots,” Chrysalis said. “Oh, you can’t imagine it. It’s all ‘yes my queen’ and ‘how may I serve you my queen’. Can you imagine how boring it is when all your subjects just bow to your every whim?”

“You don’t deserve them,” Celestia said. “A true ruler would-”

“Yes, well, call me when a true ruler shows up, Celly,” Chrysalis said. “Far as I can see, there isn’t one here. You weren’t able to protect your subjects from me, so it’s not like you deserve the title. Agh, I’m growing bored with you already. You and your goody two hoovesness is so soooo dull. Tell me when you’re ready for some actually interesting conversation.”

With that, she spat her slime on both Cadence and Celestia, covering their mouths and rendering them both silent.

Oh, who knew winning would wind up being so annoying, Chrysalis thought to herself.





It took a fair bit, and some creative thinking but Spike managed to get his party to the Artisans realm.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Silverstream asked. “There’s changelings everywhere! They know you’ve escaped Spike. They simply have to have realized it by now! They’ll be looking all over for you!”

Spike turned and smirked at the hippogriff. He gave her a reassuring nod. Silverstream was scared, but a good old nod from Spike the Brave and Glorious would calm her. It calmed everyone. 

“Yes, but that’s the genius of it,” Spike explained as they ran from alleyway to alleyway avoiding the changeling search parties. “Think about it, okay? They’d think I’d have to be suicidal to come back here.”

“You probably are,” Silverstream said, nervously rubbing her necklace. “I saw all those guards. Have you seen all those guards?”

Gallus had heard part of it was made up of the Hippogriff’s legendary Pearl of Transformation. Spoke only in hushed whispers. He wondered, did changeling anti-magic cover that?

“Yes, I have seen all of those guards. If I may continue?” Spike asked. “Think about it, they’d never expect me to come back here.”

“Why are we coming back here anyways?” Thorax asked. “You never said. Surely all of the dragons have been captured. Spyro, Cynder, hell even the Peacekeepers!”

“Maybe, but I want to know how they pulled it off. Zantor and Eldrid were supposed to whip up a potion, put it in the waters of the realms. It would expose any changeling who tried to drink from it. They shouldn’t even have known about it! Not all of them, anyways. And how can simple changeling drones -no offense, Thorax- take down highly trained dragons anyways?” Spike asked.

“That’s… that’s a very good point,” Silverstream said. ‘But isn’t it a question we should be asking very far away from here?”

Gallus and Spike shared a look. 

“You alright, Sil?” Gallus said looking at his mate. “You’ve been nervous ever since we left the house.”

“Yeah, because we’re going around town practically begging to be captured,” Silverstream said. “We might as well put up a sign saying Changelings, here we are. Come and get us!”

Gallus put a claw to her beak to shush her just as they reached the town hall. Going around back, Spike and Thorax looked to see if the coast was clear. When they were confident it was, they gestured for Silverstream and Gallus to come closer. All four peeked into a window where six ‘dragons’ gathered.

“Oh, that’s just wrong…” Spike muttered as he saw a changeling in Nestor’s clothing.

“Tell me about it,” Gallus agreed as they heard the changelings whisper something in an unknown language. It was mainly comprised of chitters and wing buzzes. Spike looked at Thorax for clarification.

Surprisingly, it was Silverstream who answered. “...they’re contacting the Queen,” she said, and when everyone looked at her, she said: “What? I read! I get bored like anyone else, so I decided to take linguistics. Plus, it helps when you’re nobility to know every language you can.”

Everyone else seemed to take this as acceptable, but Thorax frowned. Knowledge of that language rarely ever left the hive. Helped to keep up an aura of mystery really. Chrysalis really loved that aspect, nobody knowing really anything about her race. He supposed he could have given Silver a book on it and forgot about it, but all the same… 

Inside the room, Queen Chrysalis appeared in a flash of green fire and smoke. “I assume everything is going according to plan?” 

“Yes,” said ‘Nestor’. “Drone 7850, aka Zantor’s plan worked like a charm. Instead of exposing changelings, his little potion just knocked everyone out. We even bagged a siren, can you believe it?”

“Sonata…” Thorax whispered trying not to faint in terror upon seeing his former Queen again. Silverstream didn’t look that far off either, now that he thought about it. 

Spike snarled, so that's how they did it. He should have known. Gallus, for his part, whispered to his mate. Soft calming things, under his breath. “It’s just a potion call, she’s not really here. As long as we keep our heads down, nobody will ever be the wiser.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, drop the act,” Chrysalis lectured. “Hivemother knows I can’t take you seriously looking like those… lizards.”

Several flashes of green fire later, and all of the assembled changelings were in their true skins. Or chitlin, as the case may be.

“Is it done?” one of the drones asked. “Is it true, has Equestria fallen?”

“Everything here is going according to plan!” Chrysalis cried in glee clapping her hooves. “We thought too small last time. One ponynapped princess wasn't enough. With all the most beloved ponies of Equestria taken care of, nopony can stop us!”

Spike felt a torrent of fiery rage rush through him, and before he could stop himself his body acted. He smashed through the windows, wings flared and teeth bared. A green fire erupted from his nostrils, the assembled drones taking a few nervous steps back in fear of the angry drake.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Spike declared as Chrysalis’ smile went wide. “You said nopony right? Nobody ever said anything about ‘no dragon’. Now what have you done with my parents!?!”

“Oh, the prodigal son returns. Spike the Brave and Glorious, is it?” Chrysalis said in a tone that was so obviously one of fake sweetness. It was practically dripping with ridicule. “Was wondering where you’d gotten off to. Heard some idiot drone let you escape. No, that’s not right. Drone 3756? You there?”

Thorax seized up, his breath caught in his throat.

“Heard somepony was impersonating me,” Chrysalis said with a nasty little smile. “Didn’t take me long to figure out who it was. Not like there were a lot of candidates. I always knew you were a failure. Ugh, can’t believe I had sex with you. With the benefit of hindsight…”

“Leave him out of this,” Spike snarled. “Now I won’t ask again, where are my parents. Tell me, or your drones get flame-baked!”

“They’re safe and sound. Really, you needn’t worry yourself. They don’t even know they’ve been captured, and for all they do know it’s just a nice long nap. Hibernating a couple of years too early, really!” Chrysalis said. “As for the drones, well, flame bake them all you want. It’ll still get you no closer to me. Really, Spikey-Boo… actually, can I call you that? I really don’t like to go with formalities. Ugh, so boring and way too stuffy for my tastes. Anyways, Spikey-Boo, if you want to beat me, you’re going to have to think smart. That is, if you can. Dragons, ugh, you barely ever think beyond your next hoard of gems.”

“You know nothing about us,” Spike hissed out.

“Mhmm, maybe. But you’re hardly a credit to your race are you?” Chrysalis said, a hoof poised under her chin in thought. “Charging in like that? Having this little battle of… well, I wouldn’t say wits. But talking like this? Oh, that just gave the cities’ guards plenty of time to find you… The alarm’s already been raised. I’d suggest you start running now.”

Sure enough, came the sounds of shouting. Spike figured he could probably fend off the drones, but his companions? Maybe they could take a few, but not an entire city’s worth!

So Spike ran, and so his companions ran.

Through a maze of twisting city streets and alleyways they ran, never stopping. Not even once, because if they did it would mean certain death.

Spike looked behind him, and his eyes widened. Changelings, far more than he could account in practically flame-proof armor right on his tail. Then he looked ahead, and his heart plummeted. A dead end. They were boxing them in!

“Well, this is a fine way to go out,” Spike muttered. “Death by the literal Anthill Mob.”

Silver looked terrified, before her eyes steeled. And with a flash of green fire, she changed. She didn’t clutch her pearl of transformation to do so, she just changed. Exactly like a changeling.

“Sil… Silver?” Gallus whispered as the former hippogriff assumed the form of a Neighponiese style dragon, and spun like a drill sending the changeling squad flying off to parts unknown via whirlwind.

“Yeah, it’s still me. Just… not as you expected. Uh, surprise?” ‘Silver’ said as she resumed her hippogriff form, Thorax’s eyes wide and looking white as a ghost. Of course, he should have known.

“That’s how she knew the changeling language…” he started.

“...because she’s one herself,” Gallus whispered before hugging her. “My wife’s awesome.”

“Well, now that we’re getting everything out in the open, not sure if wife is the correct term here,” ‘Silver’ laughed nervously. “Mate works. Mate’s honestly what I prefer. Not really confined to any one gender role really. Heck, I used to be called Kevin! Silver, I’m sorry for this, never really existed. At least… not as you know her. The real one died long ago, but I… sorta stepped in? I guess you could call it that. It’s just, I didn’t have the heart to tell her -well, mine really- parents that… Oh, I’m rambling again aren’t I? Sorry?”

Kevin smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of their head with a wing. 

As Gallus gaped wordlessly -rather resembling a fish- Thorax slapped a hoof to his face in remembrance. “Now I remember you! Kevin, aka Drone 7898! You were always asking us to refer to you not as a him but a they, or a their or a them. How could I forget?”

“So you’re non-binary?” Gallus asked slowly, attempting to understand. “Yeah… yeah, I can… I can deal.”

“You… you don’t hate me?” Silver asked. “Even after I lied to you for years? After I just told you that I’m not exactly a girl? Or, at least, I don’t identify as one all of the time. Actually, do I even have a gender…?”

Gallus hugged them tightly. “I could never hate you. You’re the same hippogriff I fell in love with all those years ago. You are my Silver, my Kevin, and I love every part of you. I promise you, we will make this work. That’s what marriage is about, right?”

Kevin wiped away a little tear from their face. “T-Thank you…”

“See, true love does exist,” Thorax said. “Now Pharynx owes me twenty bits. Or gems, I’ll take gems.”

“You’re becoming a real dragon aren’t you…?” Spike snorted as the party got back to walking. Their direction? A portal leading to the Skelos Badlands.

“...well, spend enough time around dragons and you do tend to pick up a few habits,” Thorax shrugged. “I can probably con you out of a good portion of your hoard, if I wanted to.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Spike said as the world went white, and then a blast of heat hit him. Spike coughed from all of the smoke and sulfur in the air, his companions soon to follow. 

Rivers of lava ran below his feet, tossing up soft-ball sized balls of magma. Geysers erupted all around, blowing hot steam a mile or so into the air. And towering above it all was a truly massive craggy structure of pure obsidian, full of holes and changelings buzzing around its highest towers. Spike felt his magic begin to leave him, suddenly feeling very small in the face of all this.

“Home sweet home…” Thorax murmured.
> 19: Coronation Day
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now!

“I’m terrified,” Thorax admitted, his heart beating like a drum and his wings buzzing in agitation. “Like, I’m seriously terrified here. Think I might fall over. I’m so not up for this.”

“Relax, okay?” Smolder said. “You got this, you seriously got this. Isn’t the first speech you’ve given in front of a crowd is it? Imagine them with bags over their heads or something.”

“I’d probably break down laughing, and that’s not exactly the first impression I want to give to anyone is it?”

Smolder chuckled. “Probably not, no…” she admitted.





Then!

Lava flowed and bubbled up to the surface in great gasps of magma, the earth cracking beneath the party’s every step. Fissures hissed out smoke and steam, Gallus looking nervous at the sights and sounds of the Badlands.

“...you used to live here?” Spike asked.

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Thorax said, trying to downplay it. “I mean, a few throw rugs here and there and it’ll be rather homely. Maybe a ficus or two.”

“Amazing,” Spike muttered as he looked back up at the massive Changeling hive, partially hidden by a tall cliffside. “...that’s gotta be draining the life out of this whole place, she’s sucking it dry just because she’s hoarding all of that life energy for herself. Shoving it into her throne just to power her anti-magic runes.” 

As a Beast Maker, who carved and crafted the world from the very life essence of the planet, Spike was nothing less than absolutely disgusted.

“Throne’s covered with them,” Thorax agreed. “We’ve always known about them of course, who in the Hive hasn’t. Chrysalis freely bragged about them, never thinking any changeling would betray her. And why would they? They’re terrified, or head over heels for her. But yeah, the throne? She always called it her own personal form of insurance.”

“And she was your mother?” Gallus said with no small amount of disgust.

“Well, that’s what she liked to think of herself as, the Hivemother but… but looking back now, I wonder would any true Hivemother do this to her kingdom?”

“No,” Spike breathed, putting a claw on his friend’s shoulder. “No, they wouldn’t.”

Thorax smiled weakly. “Throughout my whole life I’ve been surrounded by enemies. If we die doing this, let it be a death amongst friends.”





“You honestly thought you were going to die?” Smolder asked. “Like, seriously, honestly?”

“It’s Chrysalis,” Thorax said. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t take my rotting corpse and display it on a pike for all to see outside the hive. A warning to future traitors. But obviously, not dead so uh, all’s fine and dandy.”

“How’d you even get out of there alive?” Ember asked, the pink dragoness finagling with Thorax’s robes. Her glasses rested on her face, with a collection of sewing needles in one claw, and a spool of emergency thread in another. 

“Oh, I’m getting to that…” Thorax continued. “You see, what we didn't expect or even conceive of was to gain an unexpected ally…”





Together, under cover of darkness the group eventually made it into the caves deep beneath the hive, and hopefully swiftly and silently they could find their way up into the main hive itself.

“...I’d hoped I’d never have to return here,” Thorax said as they climbed, his head lowering in fear. His wings buzzed nervously, so many chances at getting caught… “I still have the nightmares you know. The buzzing… I don’t think I’ll ever truly forget it. Of a hive on the march.”

“When, not if, when we win and free our friends, you’ll never have to come back here again, Thor,” Spike said, keeping a careful eye on the darkened tunnels in case of ambush. “You shouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”

“But what about… them? My brothers and sisters?” Thorax asked. “We’re seeking to depose a tyrant, and when -not if- we do? What then? They’ll be directionless, and seeking a new purpose in life. Some will likely go mad in the first few days without someone to connect them to the hive. Someone has to be the Queen… or the King.”

Gallus, Kevin, and Spike all looked at Thorax in wide-eyed shock.

“...No, you’re not seriously saying that…” Kevin whispered.

“Oh, if I have to, I will,” Thorax decided, eyes narrowed in determination. “I can’t just leave my family behind.”

“They were all too happy to leave you behind, stab you in the back!” Gallus shouted before quickly being shushed as his voice reverberated throughout the caverns. 

“They don’t know any better, and they’re under orders,” Thorax replied. “Besides, what would you have me do? Let someone possibly even worse than Chrysalis take over? It’s either let the hive fall to chaos and have it’s members disperse, or maybe have someone take advantage of the insanity and become even a worse ruler than Chrysalis? Or… or take over myself and lead this hive to a new dawn.”

“You’ve… You’ve really thought about this haven’t you?” Kevin asked.

“I have, actually,” Thorax said softly. “When you’re lying around in a castle with very little to do but recover, you tend to think back to your own upbringing. About how you wished some things could have been better. I can’t change the past, but I can change the future. I realized now that I have a chance to make that change? It would be foolish, no it would be criminal to not take that chance! I have a duty to my brothers and sisters to see that the next generation of grubs don’t grow up the way I did. The way we did.”

His voice was firm, unwavering. None of that previous fear present in it at all. Gone was the poor sickly grub Spike had found out in the cold, scared for his own life. Now… now in front of him was a possible future king. No, more than that. A savior for his entire race. He smiled proudly, wiping away a tear from his eye.

“And they say kindness doesn’t pay off.” Spike thought.

“Well, glad to see you’ve finally made up your mind,” came a voice from above and everyone looked up. A changeling with a spear, and aggressive looking eyes. Gallus readied his blade. “...oh, don’t bother, griffon. I’d have you on the floor before you even knew what hit you. Remember, this is my hive.”

“Don’t suppose we can convince you that we’re filly scouts here to sell cookies?” Gallus asked weakly. 

“...or that you should let us on by?” Spike added, before Thorax rushed by and embraced the larger changeling in a hug.

“Pharynx!” he cried, sobbing into his brother’s shoulder.

“...Oh, let go of me you nymph,” Pharynx grumbled, gently shoving him away. “See, see, this is why I don’t like you. You’re way too emotional. Nice to see you’ve got some spine, though coming back here? I do wonder if you got hit over the head one too many times. If Chrysalis finds you…”

The lack of her title didn’t go unnoticed by anyone present.

“W-Wait, sorry, have I missed something?” Gallus asked, scratching his head. “I’m confused. Who the Hell is this? Like, what in Enlil’s name is going on here?”

“Oh, so you’re my future brother in law?” Pharynx asked. “...huh, I could have sworn it was going to be the dragon!”

“Gallus, meet my brother Pharynx. Pharynx, meet Gallus.”

“...he’s too skinny,” Pharynx decided after a few minutes. “Needs some meat on those bones. No way in hell is he going to be able to protect you.”

“Hey, I like skinny. Plus, I’m long and lean. I’m like a panther!” Gallus said.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Pharynx said, making a little mocking motion with his hoof. “Oh, by the way? All this blabber? It’s going to bring the guards down on top of you within a few minutes. So if you’re going to get moving, better get moving.”

“...your brother huh?” Gallus said to his friend. “...was he always this rude?”

“I heard that!” Pharynx grumbled. “...Oh, there’s no way in hell this little coup is going to work with your brand of idiocy. You’re lucky I’m the guard that found you, and not one of the others.”

“Pharynx, when did you…”

“Betray the Queen?” Pharynx said, finishing Kevin’s thought for him. “...Mhmm, turns out that there are some things thicker than the loyalty to your kingdom. Ugh, great. Starting to go off all sappy on you. Bleagh.”

“He loves me,” Thorax said to Kevin with an aside glance.

“Don’t even joke,” Pharynx said, shoving the foursome onwards with his spear. “I’m only doing this just because Chrysalis is going to get us all killed because of her hate-boner for dragonkind.”

Nobody present actually believed him.

“Now, please tell me if any one of you have an acting degree?” Pharynx asked with a tilt of his head. “If you’re going to be my prisoners to present to Chrysalis, you gotta make it at least half-way believable…”





“Wait wait, I know I was cocooned for most of this, but… really?” Smolder asked. “You actually trusted your brother that much? I know how this sounds but…”

“Then if you know how it sounds, don’t say it,” Thorax growled, surprising even himself with his boldness. Smolder actually looked proud of him for that. “If there’s one creature who I would trust with my life beside Spike, it’s my brother. He was there for me when nobody else was, so I at least owe him that. He got me out of that nightmare, remember?”

“If you say so…” Ember murmured. “I’m just half expecting for you to suddenly wind up in Chrysalis’ throne room, and in chains!”

“Well, you’d be half right then!” Thorax continued to explain…





“My Queen!” Pharynx buzzed as he lead his four prisoners inside the truly massive throne room. Thorax gulped as a series of memories hit him like a tidal wave. There she was, laying on her throne. Chrysalis, queen of the hive. Queen of all that was.

“Well, good to see you know how to follow orders, drone 3756,” Chrysalis said, slinking towards him like some large cat. Thorax knew that she knew his name, she just cared not to mention it. “Now perhaps you can follow these. Attend to me…”

She leered at him with a predatory grin, and pounced.

As soon as Queen Chrysalis spied her favorite drone, her predatory grin returned. Above her was a truly massive selection of green cocoons. Thorax let out a small whimper, both at who he was in the presence of and the fact that directly above him were Cadence and Princess Celestia herself captured and helpless.

“Well, well. Drone 3756, or… Thorax is it? Nice name, interesting name. No, boring name. A bit cliche. It’s like you happened to choose the least interesting name possible for a drone,” Chrysalis babbled as she strode around the group like some massive cat, her horn glowing with a faint light. “Of course, that’s probably the genius of it. At least to you. You’re like everyone else, you thought I wouldn’t take notice when you left the hive. You were right, I didn’t take notice. At least for a while. But then I got bored, and a mare has needs you know? So I went looking for you, given you were the best time of my life…”

“Stay away from him…” Spike rumbled baring his teeth before green changeling slime pinned him to the floor. Gallus’ sword was ripped from his claws with a similar substance, and stuck to a wall.

“Stay… stay away from him? Oh could you get any more cliche?” Chrysalis said. “Honestly! You’re like a pack of storybook characters. Sadly, this isn’t a fairy tale. The good guys don’t come out on top, and the dragon isn’t slayed. Hell, there won’t be any dragons slain at all. Why deprive myself of a perfectly good food source?”

She stroked a hoof along Spike’s jaw. 

“I mean, hello! You’re a nice strong drake, and troublesome as you are you’ll fall into line pretty quickly. I can sense the love for your wife,” Chrysalis shifting shape and becoming a proper copy of Smolder. “Easy to use.”

“We’ll see,” Spike snarled defiantly. “That throne of yours? It’s getting shattered.”

“Oh, so you do know about what it can do? Well, you do know then you can say goodbye to your firepower. Your flames have been… snuffed,” Chrysalis said. “So ends the tale of Spike the Brave and Glorious. Oh, don’t even bother trying to escape or perform some daring feat of heroics. Strong as you are, you’re still surrounded.”

Sure enough, from all sides came at least a hundred changeling drones.

“This… yeah, Spike?” Gallus said. “I don’t like these odds.”

Kevin buzzed about nervously. Chrysalis spied him and grinned madly.

“Oh right, I've heard about you. You wanted to live a normal life as a wife and have a couple kids rights? Well, here to tell you boy that I can’t let that happen,” Chrysalis said as Kevin felt themself begin to grow weaker and weaker, a mist of pink energy being sucked away from them by Chrysalis. “Have to make an example of you, show that treachery and ideals above your station is not how I roll. Remember, you belong to me boy.”

“Leave them alone!” Thorax said before Chrysalis returned to him.

“Them? Oh please, you can be one gender or... well, you can be one gender. It’s what you were assigned with, and end of story,” Chrysalis said. “It’s… perverted to think otherwise. He is a perversion of the natural order!”

With one mighty swing of her hoof, Chrysalis slapped Kevin sending them tumbling to the floor. They gasped for breath, Gallus pulling them close with a wing. If looks could kill, Chrysalis would be six feet under.

Ignoring this, she returned to Pharynx stroking his head with a hoof.

“Well, at least there’s someone I can count on around here,” she remarked. “Loyal as always, maybe a promotion is in order? How’d you like it, Captain of the Guard? My royal guard? It’s an aspiration to reach isn’t it? I know it is, I’ve heard you. Let it be said I’m not a rewarding Queen!”

“Sorry…” Pharynx said, bringing out twin knives and stabbing upwards, Chrysalis letting out a howl of pain. As she staggered backwards, bleeding and attempting to pry the knives out, Pharynx got to work on freeing his ‘captives. “But… Well, as I said before. Some things run thicker than loyalty to one’s Queen.”

Soon Spike was free, and sent changeling drones flying with a swing of his tail.

“HOW DARE YOU!?!” Chrysalis snarled, finally prying the blades out of her body. “You could have had it all!”

“I already do,” Pharynx said, tackling her to the floor even as Spike went for the throne. Guards dressed in armor blocked his path. “And frankly, you haven’t been my Queen in a long time. Not since you touched my brother.”

“He should have been honored!” Chrysalis said changing to a black dragon, with a purple underbelly and blasting Pharynx away with green flame. Pharynx slid back, and changed to the form of Princess Cadence, slashing at Chrysalis’ belly with Gallus’ sword.

“Oh, is that what you call it? Honored?” Pharynx said, slashing at her again. Rage filled his veins, his blood pumping. “Rape is rape! No honor about it!”

“At one point, you would have submitted to me like he did!” Chrysalis said slamming Pharynx into the wall with her massive tail. Spider-web style cracks ruptured out from where Pharynx impacted. 

Groaning, Pharynx fell to the floor with a flash of green fire, resuming his original state. He was soon surrounded by guards pointing pikes at him. 

“Run, brother!” he said. “Save yourself.”

Thorax shared a nod with his brother, and looked back at the throne. And so he ran.

“Wise choice!”

But not towards the exit. Towards the drones, and he leaped atop a rock. “Look at yourselves, is this what you really want? Are you happy serving this madmare? She willingly sends you to your deaths, orders you to suicide bomb a city protected by the most powerful of love magic. Is that life?”

Chrysalis snarled, firing a magic blast at him. But Thorax leaped to another rock. 

“Think about it. Is it really living? She steals half of the love we take for herself. Look outside! Is that where you really want to live? It wasn’t always like this, I know. It used to be so beautiful. But this madmare sucked all the life energy dry just to feed her own hunger for power!”

“Go Thorax…” Spike said as he stepped in front of several drones, almost daring them to try anything. 

Chrysalis fired a magic blast at him, but the blast simply bounced off his now hardened adult scales. So she tried to kill Thorax but he flew to a higher ledge.

“I’ve been living amongst creatures of all sizes, ones great and small. Sharing in their love, not taking it. Turns out, it’s good for you. See these wings? Doesn’t this shine look right to you? We’re not supposed to be this way, I think,” he continued and was pleased to note a few murmurs of agreement and nods amongst the drones. “Think of our cousins the ponies. Each and every one of them is unique, so why aren’t we? Why aren’t we allowed to be unique? We all have names, not just numbers. We have identities! So why aren’t we allowed to reflect that?”

Noticing a distinctive change in the mood around her, and in her hive Chrysalis let out a: “SHUT UP!”

Again, she fired a magic blast at Thorax but he simply flew atop her own throne. And to her indignation, actually grinned cockily at her. “So, how about it Chrysalis, would you really risk destroying your own throne? Ask yourself, is it really worth it?”

Spike laughed as soon as he realized what Thorax had just done. Turn the hive against Chrysalis, and get her in such a position that if she had to kill him, she’d have to destroy the source of her own power to do it.

Chrysalis let out a shriek, consumed by her own rage and began ripping Thorax’s own love energy from him. “DIE!” 

But as she was doing this, what she failed to notice was Spike’s tail swinging right at her. Chrysalis went flying, and was smashed into her own throne reducing it to rubble.

Chrysalis’ eyes narrowed, before she let out a squeak of terror as both Cadence and Celestia fell to face her, their horns crackling with magical energy...





Thorax took a deep breath and stepped out to greet the nobility of Canterlot.

Silence rang out as the crowd took in his new appearance. He looked truly regal. Turns out, sharing a lot of love did wonders for your appearance. He looked spectacularly regal, in a magnificent green, purple gems around his neck and twin truly striking pincher horns. His brother was by his side, in a similar appearance but in darker shades.

“I… I know you don’t have much reason to trust us,” Thorax started looking around the room, seeing very little support tossed his way. Most of the Canterlot nobles regarded him with at best outright skepticism. Others, it was outright hatred. They all remembered what his race had done a few years prior. So, it was his job -Thorax knew- to win them over. “I mean, why should you? To you, I’m a shapeshifting monster, the horror from under your bed. The creature from your nightmares, a warning from your parents! I accept that. We, as a people have done nothing to earn your praise and everything to earn your scorn.”

“...he does know how to start a speech,” Spike murmured to his wife from near the door, the two of them towering over the Royal Guards presiding over everything. The only creatures larger than them were the Royal Sisters. 

“...I think he got it from you, Mate of Mine…” Smolder remarked with a gentle nudge.

“But, but! The time for fear is over. It is now the time of wisdom and understanding. We will work to be an example of how we as brothers and sisters on this planet should treat each other. Now, more than ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis, the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers,” Thorax spoke. “What are we? The wise… or the foolish? We are cousins to each other, we’re all equine in a way. And what are equines but not sociable creatures? Loving creatures, understanding creatures? Friendly creatures? Isn’t that what you say? Friendship is magic? Seems to be the main rule of law ‘round here doesn’t it? Well, we’re just new creatures for you to make friends with right?”

He was watching the room, and watching some trust began to build in the eyes of his audience. Others were still more skeptic, but Roam wasn’t built in a day.

“And what of your Queen?” Chancellor Fancy Pants called out from his side of the room. “We’ve heard nothing about her. Forgive me for this King Thorax, but how do we know you’re not hiding her from us? How do we know she doesn’t still rule from the shadows, and you are only a puppet king? A simple shapeshift is a changeling’s speciality after all…”

Thorax knew he meant no offence. It probably would have been the first question he asked if he was in Fancy’s place.

“Chrysalis is dead,” Thorax said flashing back as the room went into an uproar.





“This isn’t the end of things you know,” Chrysalis snarled. “Drive me from this hive, I’ll build another. As long as there is hate and fear and prejudice and love to be stolen, well… I can thrive.”

“Then thrive no longer,” Celestia said, launching a magic blast at Chrysalis smashing her through a wall, and onto a rocky crag. “I made the mistake of not chasing after you once, and killing you while you were weak. I shall not make that same mistake ever again.”

“Doesn’t seem very friendly of you, Celly…” Chrysalis said, throwing up a shield to protect herself, but then the very ground began to melt out from under her. It began to turn into boiling magma, hissing with steam.

Chrysalis flew to another location, and threw up another shield as Celestia tossed fireballs at her.

“Yes, well, I’m no fool. Despite what ponies say about me, about how loving and tolerating I am? Even I have limits with my patience,” Celestia said, her next fireball shattering Chrysalis’ shield entirely. Her wings were burnt to a crisp, reduced to ashes in the wind. “You have repeatedly shown no remorse for your actions, and threatened my little ponies more than once. You have kidnapped my family, my sister. My student! You have put my kingdom, my ponies in harm's way in your mad quest for power. Now tell me Chrysalis, why should I forgive you?”

“Um, maybe w-we should consider this? Just a little?” Chrysalis backing up against a rock in fear. “Listen, listen! I can repent, become a perfectly functioning normal member of society!”

“Doubtful,” Celestia said before advancing. Chrysalis’s eyes widened in fear, before she flung a piece of mud into the Solar Regent’s eye, blinding her. She struck without mercy, a blast of magic forcing Celestia off of her hooves, and making her tumble to the earth. 

Chrysalis charged, her horn ready to impale her archenemy before she was blasted into a rock face by Spyro.

“We have a stake in this too, remember?” he remarked as he helped the Princess to her hooves. “So don’t leave us out.”

“So shall we kill her together then?” Celestia asked as they advanced on Chrysalis. Celestia’s horn glowed gold while Spyro’s throat ignited with flame. 

“Gladly, I want to see her get roasted!” Spyro snarled. “Nobody threatens my kid!”

Chrysalis was terrified, and she ran for it. But she forgot to watch which direction she was running towards, and with a scream over the cliff she went. Spyro looked over the edge, and immediately regretted it, wincing.

“...so falls Queen Chrysalis the Great,” Pharynx ruminated sadly.





“I can vouch for King Thorax’s statement,” Celestia said stepping forwards. “I was there to see Chrysalis’ death myself. It has been confirmed as her. No tricks, no more illusions. She is dead.”

“Her death, loathe as I am to admit it, was a tragedy. Maybe it’s a victim sticking up for their abuser, I dunno. But I believe Chrysalis could have been a truly great leader,” Thorax said. “Had her own lust for power and her pride not blinded her, it could be her speaking to you today. It could have been here speaking to you years earlier in fact, dragging the changelings out of the shadows far sooner than they sadly have been.”

“So you defend her?” an angry voice rose up, from Jet Set. “She was a monster! She tried to take over Canterlot!”

“No, I do not say her actions were just. They never were,” Thorax said. “I only ruminate on the great leader she could have been had her own greed not consumed her so. I’m too young, I admit. I’m not wise in the ways of leading. I only have… examples to go by, both good and bad. You’d have every reason not to trust me, Hivemother only knows what I could screw up in my inexperience! But… I think a wise leader admits when they are at fault, when they need help. Nobody’s perfect, even as much as we’d like to be. So, yeah, I’ll probably screw up a few things along the way. But I think everyone does. I don’t think anyone was born to lead. Not even Celestia or her sister.”

“Again, why should we trust you?” Upper Crust asked, and Thorax knew by the hate in her eyes she’d be impossible to win over. “You said it yourself, you’re one of the monsters from under our beds! You could be having your men secretly replace us one by one even as we speak! This could only be a front for your true intentions!”

“It could, yes,” Thorax admitted as he watched Celestia step up to defend him. He shook his head no, this was something he had to do himself. “But be careful, otherwise you expose yourself as a hypocrite!”

“How dare you!?!” Upper Crust shouted with Jet Set narrowing his eyes in rage. “Where do you get off saying…”

“One of your rulers was a monster once yes?” Thorax said, noting the look of shame in Upper’s eyes. “And yet you trust her. And you have apparently made nice with the very spirit of Chaos himself. So ask yourself, is it really so hard to make friends with a simple changeling king?”

Scattered applause met his words, some nobles nodding in approval.

“Oh… um, oh dear. I seem to be running out of things to say,” Thorax laughed nervously. “I guess I didn’t intend for this to go for this long I suppose! But what I’m trying to say, I guess, am I allowed to extend the hoof of friendship from my nation to your own?”

And then the applause grew to a thunder, the whole room stamping their hooves in approval. Shouts breached the air.

“Thorax! Thorax! All hail King Thorax!”

“Look at that,” Pharynx grinned. “I think you’ve actually beaten the odds again brother. I was half-expecting for you to get chased out of here with torches and pitchforks!”

“You had the guard standing by, didn’t you?” Thorax said disapprovingly. “Have a little faith in me, brother of mine!”

“Fine, fine, see if I come to help you at the next Royal Summit,” Pharynx rumbled before looking at his new appearance via a mirror. “...ugh, still not sure about any of this. I think I liked the old look better, looks less like someone puked crayons all over us.”

“Edgebug,” Thorax teased. “You probably would have done yourself all up in red and black if you could have. Am I right?”

“...Oh shut up,” Pharynx grumbled his facial flush confirming his brother’s suspicions. “So, all hail the king? Should we start bowing to you regularly, your highness? I know some of the younger grubs are already starting to do that, like Ocellus…”

“Ah, yes, well, that’s a habit I think we’ll have to break,” Thorax mumbled blushing a beet red. “I don’t intend to be worshipped as a god. I just want to be another changeling to them…”

“Hate to break it to you, but no simple changeling breaks Chrysalis’ centuries-long hold,” Pharynx said.

“...was that a compliment I heard?” Thorax asked. “I didn’t realize you gave those!”

“Don’t expect another, I still think you’re an idiot by the way,” Pharynx groused. “So, you expect to love your enemies into submission? Sing Kumbaya and all that? Cause, I’m going to tell you right now, I won’t support you next time you try something stupid like that again.”

“Again?” Thorax blinked. “...I wasn’t aware I did something stupid for a first time!”

“Yes, well, most people wouldn’t consider taking a throne and staging a coup a ‘smart move’. I’m so lucky you were dropped on your head when you were just an egg,” Pharynx drawled before smiling. “...but for the record, I’m so glad you were. I’ve never been more proud of you in all of my life.”

“Aww, so you do care!” Thorax said giving his brother a little noogie much to Pharynx’s great annoyance. The older, and now smaller actually changeling gave a small harumph.

“Yes, well, don’t let it get out. I still do have a reputation to keep up!”
> 20: Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Spike, would you have imagined your life having turned out any other way?” Cadence asked one day over dinner, during another visit to the Crystal Empire. “Let’s, hypothetically, assume you weren’t picked up by Spyro and Cynder. Just hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically?” Spike remarked scratching his chin with a claw. “Hrm… hmm, tough question. Are we, hypothetically, going to assume my parents lived as well?”

“Possibly, in this hypothetical scenario, yes,” Cadence replied. “Let’s assume your blood parents lived here in what we’re positing.”

“Probably would have grown up fairly peaceful,” Spike said. “Might not have met Smolder, or maybe I might have, who knows?”

“Oh, that’s a horrible situation, you never meeting your wife!” Cadence shuddered. “Seriously, you two are so cute together. Eeeeeeee!”

“...I’m going to pretend you didn’t just squeal like a little girl,” Spike deadpanned. “You’re a grown mare Cadence, can you at least pretend to act like it at times?”

“Oh, but that’s so boring!” Cadence moaned. “Besides, romance? Romance is my jam, brah.”

“Did you seriously just say ‘brah’?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow before sighing. “...maybe I shouldn’t have let you hang around Smolder. You trying to be ‘hip’ is actually kinda scary to be honest.”

“He’s kinda right you know,” Shining said from nearby, not even looking up from his dinner and somewhat embarrassed by his wife’s behavior. “I… I just have this frightening mental image of you walking up into a high school dressed like a teenager, or well what you think a teenager dressed like and saying ‘hey kids!’.”

Spike shuddered. “...great, now I’ve got it too. Thanks for that.”

“Happy to oblige,” Shining smirked. 

“You’re ganging up on me…” Cadence whined. “Look, all I’m trying to do here is try and be ‘hip’ for Flurry, she’s going to be a teenager soon isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but what’s hip for you is definitely not going to be hip for her,” Spike pointed out. “I’m not up to date on teenager lingo, I won’t pretend to be, it seems to change every odd year or so. Like… What the hell is ‘Snatched’ or ‘highkey’? And how can someone be ‘I’m dead’ if they’re still alive?”

Cadence was giggling to herself, before commenting: “I concede your point.”

Or at least that was what Spike hoped she was going to say. The reality, not so much. Instead, what she actually did was turn to a nearby servant and ask: “Hey Garnet, just asking. I was reading from a magazine earlier, about how to try to talk to teenagers. Something bothered me. It said at one point ‘spill the tea’ meant:  “If you hear your teen asking a friend to “spill the tea,” it means that they want to hear the latest gossip or story. Your teen might say, “Spill the tea! I want to hear what happened after you left the party.” You’ve got a teenage daughter right? Is there any truth to that?”

Garnet just simply stared at Cadence like she was somewhat crazy and walked off. Cadence let out a whine and banged her head against the table.

“Let’s face it dear, the harsh reality is we are never going to be ‘cool’ to our daughter,” Shining said, patting her on the back in sympathy. “As much as we try, we’re just going to be ‘squares’.”

“...you were never cool,” Spike deadpanned at the Prince Consort. “As far as I can tell, you’re just a dork.”

Cadence burst out laughing at the blow. “Oooh, shots fired!”

“Yep, some shade has definitely been thrown,” Shining admitted. “Speaking of your kids, how are yours? They’re coming up on five aren’t they?”

Spike smiled to himself at the thought of his kids. Thorn, Torch, Smoke, Spines, and Barbara. They were the greatest gift he could have ever asked for. Yeah, they were a bit bratty and sometimes they destroyed a few things and gave him and his mate a headache but… but they were his kids. His kids. 

Spyro, personally, had been over the moon to learn he was now a grandfather and doted on them every opportunity he could. Him and Uncle Hunter, although they sometimes flirted on the edge of being ‘that uncool relative’ who tried to be cool, but really wasn’t. 

“Six, actually,” Spike corrected. “Just next month. Thorax is thinking of bringing his hive’s grubs over for a playdate. Said they needed to be with other kids their own age. Ones outside their own species. He doesn’t want them to grow up as xenophobic as some of his older hivemates are.”

“Breaking the cycle, aren’t we?” Cadence remarked. “Flurry’s going to be associating with changelings, changelings are going to be associating with dragonkind… Something tells me the mistakes of our generation will never be repeated, at least… not in our lifetimes.”

“I’ll make sure they won’t,” Spike said. “After all, I’ve got a long life ahead of me yet!”

Cadence smiled. “Yeah, that you do… I’m proud of you Spike, and I’m sure your parents, both sets of them are. You’ve really grown up.”

“Well, I do have you and my parents to thank,” Spike smiled. “If I hadn’t been raised right, I might have turned out to be a very different drake indeed.”

“Even if you were raised by ponies?” Cadence asked. “Because that’s another hypothetical scenario!”

“Oh, so someone like yourself,raising me?” Spike asked.

“I was thinking somepony more like my sister in law, but yeah, I might have raised you given the chance,” Cadence smiled before kissing him atop the forehead. “Take care Spike, okay?”

Spike smiled as he walked towards a portal, bound for home. “I will.”

And as he strode into his keep in the Spooky Swamps, he watched Torch run past him with Thorn in chase, laughing up a storm. Snuggling up to his wife, he wrapped his tail around hers and laughed to himself. “Yeah, I’ve got everything I ever need, and honestly? I wouldn’t ask to change a thing. Thank you for giving me this chance. My real life starts now...And something tells me everything is going to be just fine. ”

The End