Chapter 29

Lost

Drops fell from the leaves of the great oak in cascades, covering the grass and soil of the forest in a thick dew that glistened in the first light of the morning. The forest's temperature had been gradually falling in recent weeks, and the morning dew growing thicker. Today, it had formed a thin blanket of frost over the interwoven leaves and branches.

Several large drops coalesced together over the tree's roots before dropping. It smacked against the smooth surface of an embedded rock and spraying into an opening of a small burrow hollowed out between the wooden trunks. There was low growling from within, and a black-furred, gangly mammal poked its head out to sniff the cold air. It immediately set out to gather food, as winter was fast approaching, and its own store of nuts and seeds was too low to last the season.

It searched through the undergrowth and shrubs for any scraps of edible plants it could gather, but all nearby bushes had been picked clean since it began. It would have to venture further than its usual territory to find more, but as the smaller creatures began to hibernate, the larger predators were growing hungrier.

It spent the next several hours searching further and further away, and managed to find several pockets of seed and small fruit without encountering any predators. It had just found several berries and set to pluck several into its mouth when it froze, staring at the damp soil before it.

The skurret stared at the large footprint embedded in the ground. Judging by the depth and the pointed holes above the imprinted digits, the predator was heavy with sharp claws. The largest predators that it would ever encounter would be the death hounds, or rarely a Zhanda. Yet, even their footprints were not as big as this one.

The mammal's instinct was to run as far away from the direction of the footprints as possible, but for some reason, its curiosity got the better of it. There was no clear path indicated by the footprint, but after sniffing around the footprint's base, the skurret picked up a unique scent and began to follow it. The smell was strange; heavy and thick, but clean and fresh at the same time.

The skurret followed the footprints until it spotted a glint in the distance, reflecting off a large, curled up body in a large clearing up ahead. Though as it drew closer, it saw little open space, as the predator had taken up most of it.

It sniffed; the scent was stronger now, as it watched the predator from within a bush. The light refracting off its purple scales occasionally stunted its vision. It was, like the footprints, larger than even the largest Alozhanda, with large horns and what looked like wings folded over its back.

Despite appearing far more dangerous than what it usually had to deal with, the skurret remained. It couldn't help but wonder why it was drawn to this predator, until it watched the body shift and shiver, as if warding off the cold and dampness of the morning. The predator didn't belong here.

It looked like a predator, but it was behaving like prey.

The prey raised its head and stared down at it with large, beady purple eyes. The skurret had exited the bush and drew closer, sniffing more and more.

'You shouldn't be here.'

The mammal tilted its head at the deep, yet gentle sound.

'You have no magic. You could die at any second.'

The skurret remained still, but the voice grew more desperate.

'I'm not hunting now. Get out of here. Get away from me!'

It was then the skurret spotted a pair of hungry eyes sizing it up from the shadow of the nearest tree. It froze for a second before darting back into the bushes from whence it came, recognising now the prey was accompanied by a real predator.

Spyro sighed miserably while Talon continued to follow the skurret's movements.

'Don't, Talon. You just ate. More than your share, actually, since I didn't have the appetite…'

The falcon stiffened his wings before examining the dragon with renewed concern, which Spyro could only tell from his thoughts.

'You don't need to worry… I'm just not hungry.'

Talon continued to stare at him, disapproval mixing in with his concern.

'Fine. I'll try to eat something the next time either of us catch anything.'

Spyro tightened his coiling body. His cloak turned out to be waterproof, thankfully – yet he couldn't sleep properly last night, which was unsurprising. He felt so heavy just walking through a light shower – and though the forest provided decent cover, the stabbing pain in his chest persisted as he reflected on recent events. Almost everyone he knew was left behind and he had no idea when, or even if, he would see them again. If there was a goal in front of him, even a difficult one, he could always find it in himself to keep going. He still had a goal, but was somewhat at a loss. Travelling to the White Isle would require flying over the ocean again, but he was in no shape to do so, as one of his wings still cramped painfully when he tried to unfurl it. He had tried to find a crimson crystal ever since he was a safe distance away from Warfang, but there were no crystals in sight, and he was unable to sense any nearby.

He knew he would have to remain in the forest for some time, at least until he was able to fly. With contact with civilisation effectively cut off, he would have to hunt for himself, and that was not a prospect he looked forward to.

After remaining in that position for another half hour, the sun shone strongly enough through the overhead branches that he pushed himself to uncurl and reach for his saddlebag, carefully pulling out his leatherbark map.

It wouldn't be hard to reach the south-eastern shore, as the Viridian Forest bordered on the ocean. He could, at the very least, have Talon lead the way, as the falcon knew the area better than he did. Unfortunately, Talon was unable to locate crimson gems, but that didn't stop the bird from trying, and they did find patches of enchanted earth that looked like they once housed the gems.

Why do the Spirit Gems seem to be disappearing? That's something else I'll have to ask…

For now, his goal was to find a gem if possible, while making his way southeast to the shore. After Talon's prodding, find some food… If he couldn't heal with a spirit gem, he would have to eat more to make up for it.

He sighed as he put the map away, standing up and attempting to smooth out his cloak.

'Come on, Talon... Let's go.'

Sion's eyes wandered over the rings of the training areas, his gaze tracing the coloured rings of each element, their circumference shrinking closer to the central disc. The place had always been a haven for him; where he felt most comfortable. Now, however, the dome felt much larger and more daunting than normal, almost like the whole building was hemming him in, even though he was standing on one of the taller side platforms.

'…This will be one of the meeting areas for…'

The past couple of days went by so fast, like out of a dream. Warfang felt so different, as if it had been holding its breath, and only now did it seem to be letting it out, all at once.

The day after Spyro had left, Terrador personally showed up to his house with an unreadable expression. While this was normal, Sion was uneasy given the urgency of his request to meet him and other leaders in the Grand Hall within an hour.

Telsa was thrilled, or rather as much as she could be, considering the circumstances. They no doubt wanted to speak to him about his assistance in subduing the Aethereal. Terrador and the other Guardians were well aware of Sion's aspirations, and this could be exactly what he wanted.

'…Starting tomorrow, you'll…'

Except it was not at all what he wanted. At least, not the way he pictured it. He wanted to be a soldier of Warfang to make himself useful, so he could have a purpose and help serve the people of Warfang, as well as protect his friends. He pictured all their congratulatory smiles – aside from Solaris' of course – as he would receive a guard helmet: a symbol of his entry into the military.

Instead, none of them were there; only Telsa accompanied him. Alaia, and even Solaris in her own roundabout way, offered to come, but he could only refuse. It was far more important they kept an eye on Cynder, who had barely left her house. Sparx was already looking after her as best he could, but he rarely smiled nowadays. None of them did.

All because he failed to help Spyro when he really needed it. And despite that, the Guardians and much of Warfang's population regarded him with far more respect than he was comfortable with...

'Thank you for coming.' Lattik cleared his throat as he greeted the pair, arriving through the closing gates. 'We have called you here due to your recent performance, Sion.'

Cyril managed to force a small smile. 'You have demonstrated a commitment to Warfang's security and the interests of our people, both in your mission to the Burned Lands, as well as… Spyro's unfortunate situation.'

Sion forced out an awkward smile back, but soon lowered his head despondently.

Terrador cleared his throat, prompting the young drake to look him in the eye. Despite the heavy and intense gaze, he saw some level of approval and pride behind those large green eyes.

'The Guardians and the commanders believe you are ready to begin more formal training to enter the soldiers' ranks, should you wish it–'

'Especially since we now know that you possess unique abilities,' Volteer cut in enthusiastically. 'Your resistance to dark magic is… unheard of, to say the least. I'd say this more than makes up for your lack of magic, which we originally believed was a handicap. Now, it's appropriate to say the Guardian dragons will need your abilities in the future.'

Nadina watched the uneasy drake, and spoke gently. 'We will leave the choice up to you. Becoming a soldier is not an easy commitment. There will be training schedules, duties… you will be paid, of course, but should you accept, you won't be as free with time as you were before. And… there are alternatives to becoming a soldier if you want to put your abilities to use. That said, becoming a soldier, as much as I hate to say it, would put you where you would be most useful.'

Ralis shook her head to herself slowly. 'You don't need to answer right now. Take some time to think it over. And feel free to ask anything. Like Nadina said, a military life is not something to commit to lightly.'

Sion and Telsa looked them all over slowly, and then each other. They had discussed it already.

'Are you sure I deserve this?' Sion asked. 'I couldn't help Spyro. Not when it really mattered.'

Terrador shook his head sadly, as the others lowered their heads. 'None of us could, Sion. Don't be hard on yourself. If anything, be hard on us.'

'Though… I do want to make sure this kind of thing won't happen again. And…' – He frowned to himself determinedly – 'when Spyro comes back, I want to make sure I can help him properly. If this will help with that, even in some small way, I want to at least go through the training.' The adults aside from Telsa regarded him with surprise. 'As for the soldier's life… I'll think about that while I'm training.'

Ralis and Lattik exchanged a quick nod to each other. 'Understandable,' the electric commander surmised, 'as there are many roles the training can lead to.'

As Sion slowly nodded – now with a firm look in his eyes – Terrador stepped aside to reveal a small chest, fishing out a light crested helmet of gold. He rested it on the ground and slid it forward with his wing. They all watched patiently as Sion stepped forward silently to take the helmet, and he could only hold it in his paw and stare.

'Sion?'

Terrador's voice boomed for an instant in his eardrums, and he jumped. The Earth Guardian could only study him with concern.

'Did you hear any of that, young warrior?'

Sion stared up at him cluelessly. 'Uh…'

He bowed his head in embarrassment, but Terrador stopped him with a sympathetic hum.

'Your mind wanders. It does not surprise me.'

Terrador turned towards the nearby horizontal window, gesturing for Sion to follow. They stopped to take in the full view of Warfang, the tiers gradually filtering down from their position. It was relatively early in the morning, yet the city was very different from a few days ago. The lack of movement or activity from the inhabitants was the only thing that changed – at least visually. It was as if the energy that once filled the city been sucked away from beneath the surface.

Terrador studied the smaller drake beside him in a similar manner, and the same could be said for Sion.

Hmm… warriors still need motivation, after all…

'Thinking about Spyro?'

Sion lowered his head and nodded.

'As are we all. This… isn't the first time something like this has happened.'

'I know. It's not fair.'

Terrador was silent for a moment. 'You'll find life is rarely fair… especially when it comes to the misfortune of others.'

Heat rose in Sion's throat as he furrowed his brow.

'I mean, Spyro's done so much for the world, even as a kid, and gone through a lot… but so many people still don't trust him. But they would trust me? Even though I've barely done anything?'

Terrador remained still, eventually exhaling calmly. 'Maintaining peace after saving the world is in many ways more difficult.'

Sion shook his head to himself and gripped it momentarily with his paw. 'It feels like too much… I have no idea how you guys deal with this kind of thing.'

'With each other's help, of course.'

As the Guardian met the young drake's eyes, Sion seemed to calm down, at least long enough for him to continue.

'Sion, doubting yourself is needed sometimes – especially should you go down an unsavoury path. But right now, it only serves to hold you back. What happened to Spyro was unfortunate – terrible, even – but you did the best you could in that situation. Though, I have to ask…' he rumbled curiously, 'did you know about your unique ability before that incident?'

Sion shook his head. 'Not… exactly. I wasn't really thinking.'

Terrador inclined his head, as if confirming something. 'I see. You'll need to work on that impulsiveness in the future – no commander appreciates a soldier that charges in head-first without any regard for their own safety. But I surmise that's what training is for.'

Sion nodded after a moment, bowing his head as he conceded the Guardian's point.

'Do you think he'll be alright?'

Terrador blinked in surprise, letting himself wear a small smile. 'Like I said… this isn't the first time. Spyro will come through.' He grunted sternly as he turned from the window. 'And if you want to be ready for when he does, you cannot let this doubt hold you back. Understood?'

Sion watched the Guardian for a few moments, his eyes brightening as he took off after the dragon towards the armoury.

Sparx stared miserably at the crimson curtain before him, wanting – but unable – to say anything helpful. Cynder, at first, had tried to help the Guardians relay the news around Warfang, but it became obvious that she was in no state to help. Her panicked and downtrodden demeanour only made things worse for some of the more timid inhabitants, especially among the mole communities. Then, she attempted to help Solaris and Areth in their frantic rundown of their current level of knowledge of Aether. But, just like with her trial, she found it very difficult to concentrate, and Solaris directed her to try and help in a different way, without knowing what that "way" was.

After that, Cynder wandered aimlessly until she could barely bring herself to leave her room. Dragons came in and out to check on her so often that Sparx didn't bother objecting. Sion, Alaia, Corla, Ralis, the Guardians, even Solaris… He almost welcomed it; on his own, he had no hope of breaking Cynder out of her rut.

Right on cue, he heard a couple of gentle knocks at the front door, and the guest let themselves in.

The dragonfly turned to glance up at Raina; the Ice dragoness nodding back to him and turning to the same curtain.

'How is she?'

The dragonfly shook his head. 'Not good. She's awfully quiet. And I can't think of anything to say… for once…'

Raina continued to study the room reflectively.

'Can you? Help, I mean?'

Raina slowly nodded to herself. 'Cynder was there for me after my father left… It only makes sense to return the favour.'

Sparx gave her a relieved smile as she pushed her head slowly through the curtain to look around, only for her heart to sink.

The room was dark – any windows that had curtains had them drawn. As a result, it was initially hard to tell where Cynder was exactly; Raina's gaze was drawn to the bed, but it was empty. She listened for the slightest hint of breathing, and she soon found Cynder resting in front of the tall bookshelf on the left. She studied the black dragoness for a few seconds; Cynder's gaze was drifting over the collection miserably.

'Cynder? Can I come in?'

Her answer was a slow, despondent nod.

Raina slid her way into the room, careful not to disturb any of the tapestries plastered on the wall as she drew closer. She studied the objects on the shelf briefly: among several books and some pieces of old armour, Cynder was paying particular attention to an adult fire dragon's helmet on the bottom shelf.

'Cynder, you can't stay in here all the time like this. Trust me… I know.'

The black dragoness reluctantly met her gaze. 'I know you do.' She returned her focus to the shelf in front of her, slowly covering her eyes as her voice trembled. 'I wanted you to move on… not to dwell on the past. But…'

Raina's chest clenched as tears began to run over Cynder's paws.

'I don't know what's going to happen. I want Spyro to come back, so, so much… but if I'm not there with him, how can I be sure he's safe?'

Cynder slowly lowered her paws to look up at Raina with reddening eyes.

'Did you know? About Giletha?'

'My mother?' Raina's jaw trembled for a moment as she looked away. 'I know she was killed… by something…'

Cynder inclined her head ever so slightly. 'And that thing… could be after Spyro. And I can't do anything to help…'

She closed her eyes and covered them again.

'I can't sleep properly, because I see it in my nightmares. Spyro's fading away, being swallowed up by that Aether magic, and no matter how fast I run, or how much I push myself to fly after him... I can never reach him. And that… white-eyed monster always pursues him, and finds him and…'

Raina's throat constricted as Cynder fell silent, the black dragoness' sobs stifling her words. Raina slowly lifted her wing forward, touching it gently against Cynder's for a moment. She turned to leave, giving Cynder one last regretful glance.

Sparx's eyes brightened for a hopeful moment, but quickly fell as she shook her head.

'That bad, huh?'

Raina gave a troubled nod. 'She has every reason to feel like she does. I can't think of anything to say either…'

Both of them could only remain where they were in contemplation for another few minutes, only to be jolted from their thoughts by several sharp, rapid knocks on the door. They sound ceased for a moment, before they started knocking again.

'Come in!' Sparx called out sheepishly.

Sion flung the door open, causing Raina to flinch and step back as he breathlessly stumbled into the room, his helmet clanking against his horns slightly.

'I came as soon as it was over! How's…'

He paused as he looked between the two, both staring at him with confusion and, on Sparx's end, amusement. 'What?'

'Why are you still wearing that thing?'

Sion blinked for a moment and tapped the top of his head with a paw, his helmet echoing a metal clink.

'Oh. I guess I never bothered to take it off…'

'So, you've started the military training?' Raina sported an encouraging smile. 'Congratulations.'

'Uh… thanks…' Sion's gaze fell for a moment. 'I don't really feel like I deserve it.' He hardened his gaze quickly. 'But never mind that. How's Cynder?'

Sparx and Raina's eyes fell, and after a glance, they shook their heads.

Sion frowned and glanced towards the curtain for a moment, gripping his muzzle with a paw thoughtfully. 'What can we do?'

Sparx sighed and folded his arms gruffly. 'I dunno – find Spyro, forcibly rip that thing out of him?'

Sion blinked thoughtfully. 'And how would we–'

'We can't!'

Sion groaned heavily as he tapped the side of his head. 'Well... There's got to be something!'

'You've already tried talking to her…' Sparx muttered to himself, 'so unless you can think of something else to say…?'

'Well, I can't, but…'

Sion's eyes brightened for an instant before he turned around and flung the door open again, dashing outside without another word.

'Is he always like that?' Raina couldn't help but ask.

'Pretty much.'

Spyro shivered under his cloak, shifting the sand between his claws in an attempt to warm himself, planting himself in what sunlight there was. The waves lapped on the shore calmly, but it did nothing to ease his nerves as he stared over the vast blue body before him. He now had to cross the sea to reach the White Isle… somehow.

It had taken him a couple of days to get to this point, and after trying to fly a few times in the first few hours in the Viridian Forest, he had to give up as the pain did not abate when stretching his wings, even if it was something simple like fitting them through his cloak. And now he had reached this point, he would have to fly… or swim.

He had managed to find a couple of red crystals on the way, and after using most of their energy, he found the pain lessened significantly, but did not abate. Hopefully, the energy and a couple of days' rest would be enough to be ready.

Talon watched from a nearby low-hanging branch as he tested his wings again, stretching them fully and flapping them up and down, enough to blow sand out from him. He flinched at the sensation; he could fly, but it would not be painless.

And I have to do this for a whole day? I guess if I fell I could swim the rest of the way. I just hope it doesn't come to that.

Studying his maps beforehand, it would take at least a day's flight to find what he was looking for. He would continue east from the south-eastern coast off the Viridian Forest, and was looking for a long, arching reef close to the southeast coast of the White Isle – there would also be some sandbanks that he could use for a rest.

He felt the falcon's beady eyes on him, his thoughts belying scrutinising concern.

'I'll be fine, Talon.' As he recalled the last time he flew over such a large body of water, the same one no less, he hesitated and grunted. 'Well, maybe I won't. But what choice do I have? I can't just sit here waiting for my wings to get better.'

He glanced back at the bird worriedly.

'What about you? Are you fine to fly all that way–?'

Talon flicked his head irritably, as if he was scoffing.

'Oh. I guess flying long distances is your job, after all…'

Spyro inhaled deeply, anticipation and anxiety running through his joints. Not only would he be flying and possibly swimming through the ocean, he would be meeting the Chronicler again. The last time they met, the truth was hard for him to hear, much less accept. And he doubted it would be any better this time around. Thankfully, the Chronicler was not a judgemental dragon – if anything, he may see Spyro's actions and the resulting consequences as inevitable.

But with all that said, he still had to pass the physical obstacle first. Spyro steeled himself and hunched down, raising his wings as far as he could. He backed up to the point where the sand hardened to make for a better launch. On the edge of the forest, he took off running and launched himself up into the air, closing his eyes on instinct as he did.

There was a sharp pain in his right wing as the wind blew into it, but it soon eased, and he gently flapped to gain altitude. He was able to open his eyes with relief as he slowly ascended, despite a slight stiffness in his wing. He was able to maintain his pace until the water was a good distance below him. He didn't fly too high, just in case he did eventually fall.

Talon's feathered wings flapped behind him just before he stabilised his path, and the bird was silent aside from the wind rustling his feathers as well as his cloak. He had to admire the craftsmanship; most of the cloak hugged his scales enough that it didn't billow out or impede his flight much.

They maintained the path for nearly an hour, only flapping occasionally, allowing the wind to uplift them and otherwise gliding where possible.

So far so good.

It was still a long way, and his pace was slower than normal, but he should reach the reef by evening at the latest.

They maintained the pace for another few hours, the sun dipping just over their heads into the afternoon. Spyro stared down to the ocean, watching the light glint off the shifting surface, his mind wandering to the Isle. Would he have to go through the trials again? It was challenging enough the first time. Though, would they would be easier for him now, the challenges different? He felt a twinge of annoyance; the Chronicler could cut him some slack this time around after what he'd been through.

He was jolted from his thoughts as a gust of wind stopped him cold, and he had to flap his wings to maintain altitude. He flinched as sharp pain coursed through his right side.

The wind died down for a moment, before picking right back up again. Talon screeched over the gust – less out of concern for himself than for Spyro dipping sharply despite his efforts to remain in the air. Just when he was about to regain some altitude, his right wing and the associated muscled cramped painfully, sending him straight down with a wounded roar. He had little choice but to close his other wing and plunge headfirst into the water, the sudden cold prompting him to flail in the water to warm himself up. It took a minute before he was able to tread water without shivering.

He scowled to himself for a moment.

Just some wind stopped me? I hope this isn't permanent…

The drake sighed miserably as he gradually pushed his right wing to move again, enough to stroke through the water at a decent speed, but not enough to even attempt to take off again.

Talon soared over his head watchfully as he proceeded. As the minutes went by, Spyro's stomach began to drop. He felt like he was being watched, and not just by Talon…

He began to study dark patches of water in a steadily rising panic. A long thick line of water behind him suddenly dipped, and he felt his own body flung upwards as a huge volume of water rose in a dome below him, and a massive shadow passed beneath him. It slid with frightening speed, thinning until it ended, and stopped. He saw the light reflected in the massive eyes along with white teeth.

Talon screeched again, and Spyro instinctively froze the water below him in a fan, scrambling on top of it just before the serpent's head burst out of the water, several shards scraping his back while the rest of the ice rained down into the water. Spyro clung to the first shard he saw, coughing and gasping long enough for the Rhunatha to turn its gaze back down to him.

He could only stare into the great creature's eyes as it stared at him hungrily for a few seconds, gold whiskers and thick blue fins vibrating on either side of its gargantuan snout. The eyes were almost all black, save for a gold slit down the middle.

He jolted as the serpent's head sunk forward like a falling tower, opening its mouth again with a gargantuan hiss. He froze the water around him again, but did not have time to launch himself off. Instead, he blasted the ice with the strongest Earth Shot he could muster, sending him flying backwards while at the same time sending the shards flying up into the Rhunatha's mouth, but its entire length went underwater without slowing down.

He hit the water on his back and sunk back underwater for a moment, flailing again to keep his head above the surface. Talon's cries from above barely registered, his eyes instead focusing on any movement of water around him. He was helpless; he couldn't fight back even if he wanted to, and he was in no condition to escape.

He saw the teeth and eyes on the edge of his vision. He turned and froze the surface again, but was too slow this time. He felt his breath leave him from the impact as the massive black body passed by him, and his vision blacked out for several seconds.

When he opened his eyes, he was underwater. He had to squint and blink several times before his vision cleared enough to see an approaching head with open jaws.

Spyro quickly glanced in all directions for anything he could use, and saw nothing. Running out of options, an idea formed in his head, and he closed his eyes briefly in an effort to control the adrenaline and panic running through him. He focused instead on the flow of water around him, and the distant sounds of screeching from Talon and those of the Rhunatha.

He opened his eyes in time for the Rhunatha to close its mouth as it rushed towards him. He turned slightly to his right, projecting the most powerful Earth Shot he could, propelling himself instantly away from the gaping maw. The resulting shockwave billowed through the water, with the serpent slowed and wailing in response as its body shook, but maintained its course past him. Spyro focused on the serpent's head fin as it sailed by, managing to grab on to it with his jaw and quickly shifting his claws to grab on as well. His muscles and head tensed and practically screamed in pain at the monster's speed, and he soon slipped off the slimy appendage. He quickly focused energy into his right claw and stabbed an ice blade into the serpent's hide, focusing his magic to maintain its form long enough for his actual claws to pierce the rubbery skin. Doing the same with his other paw, he pushed his head down to stop the water rushing into his eyes. The serpent took notice, and began to dive in and out of the water in an effort to fling him off, and he gasped the air whenever he could. All thought and reason soon left his head; all that he could do now was stay on as long as possible.

He could vaguely make out Talon flapping and screeching ahead of them, but as the minutes lengthened and he lost track of time, the pain of his aching muscles soon became numbing as his vision flickered, and eventually faded out completely.

Sion found himself staring at the first few doors dumbly, having stumbled into the Starlight Towers only to realise he didn't remember where Solaris lived. His first thought was the library, but Areth had exasperatedly dismissed him after Solaris was nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, he heard some sounds of life from the rooms ahead, even if the tower felt too quiet. He cleared his throat and knocked on the first door – a brown wooden door coated with some metal chimes. There were some light footsteps inside, which seemed a little too quick, as if they were expecting some disaster to show up at their door.

Two moles emerged, and after studying Sion for a moment, glanced both ways out of the door with twitching whiskers, remaining silent.

'Um… hello? Does either of you know where Solaris lives?'

Both moles bore simple cloth and leather outfits, with one wearing a metal helmet. Sion guessed they were a married couple as the male addressed him roughly.

'You mean that grouchy dragoness up three levels from here?'

Sion smiled and nodded. 'Yes! The blue one?'

Both moles frowned up at him somewhat worriedly. 'You actually want to see her?'

'Yeah! Which door?'

The female bowed her head thoughtfully. 'It's the one with the Fire and Earth runes on it. Just get to the third level; I'm pretty sure it's the only door with two runes on it.'

Sion nodded appreciatively. 'Thanks for that! I'll–'

'Young man?'

He stopped in his tracks as he turned around, the female mole's timid voice eliciting some concern. She sounded afraid.

'Huh? What's wrong?'

Both the moles studied his helmet for a moment. 'Are you a guard? Have you heard any news about Spyro? Or the grublins?'

Sion frowned and looked away. 'I'm… not a guard yet. And no, we haven't heard anything from Spyro. And I'm pretty sure the grublin situation hasn't changed.'

The pair of mammals glanced at each other worriedly, their whiskers and noses twitching with agitation.

'Will Warfang be safe?' the male asked quietly.

Will it? Sion was asking that very question, alongside "Will Spyro be safe?" He frowned for a moment. More people should be asking that question too…

He forced his disdain down and smiled as reassuringly as he could.

'Warfang will be fine. Spyro will be fine.'

'How do you know?' the moles echoed worriedly. 'Everyone's saying it's Malefor all over again!'

'Who said that?!' he blurted out, smile gone. The moles flinched, and he quickly lowered his head in apology.

'The other moles. We hear from some cheetahs too…'

Sion raised his head. 'What about the dragons? What do they say?'

'The few guards we've asked… were not sure.'

I guess none of us are…

'Well, if there's one thing I am sure of, it's that Spyro will never be like Malefor! You can tell your friends that.'

'How can you be so sure?'

'Because he's my friend. He'll come through.' Sion glanced away worriedly. 'I know he will…'

He didn't wait for their response, pushing himself towards the winding staircase to his right that hugged the inner ring. He got some odd looks from other moles – and one dragon – as he raced up the steps. He had to stop himself from continuing as he saw a black wooden door with the two runes painted into the frame. He doubled back and rapped it hastily with his knuckles.

There was a moment of silence from inside. 'Is that you moles again!? I told you, I don't care what you're selling! If you show up one more time I will–'

'Solaris, it's me!'

There was another pause before shuffling feet against stone, and the blue dragoness narrowed her eyes as she peered through the now open door.

'What do you want? If it's about Cynder, I was pretty much useless when you asked me to "cheer her up". I told you, I'm no counsellor.'

'That's not why I'm here! I'm…'

He blinked for a moment, his mind blanking as his thoughts about Spyro started to fade.

Solaris glared at him. 'You're… what?'

'Thinking! Gimme a moment…'

Solaris sighed and rolled her eyes, backing away from the door, but leaving it open.

Why did I come? Something about...Spyro? Cynder! Right.

'It's about Cynder!' Sion touted as he followed her inside. Solaris glared at him for several seconds, even as he began to speak again. 'Everyone's tried to cheer her up, but she's barely changed since Spyro left.'

Solaris sighed narrowed her eyes at him. 'Don't you think I know that? I was one of those fools that tried. Upon your insistence, I might add.'

Sion nodded regretfully. 'I know. None of us know what to do.'

The blue dragoness looked into his pleading eyes. 'And you come to me… why?'

'Well… you're good at solving problems. And I can't just do nothing. This is partly because of me…'

Solaris shook her head after a moment. 'There's no point in blaming yourself. You did more than anyone else.' Sion stared at her in surprise, causing her to cough and look away indignantly. 'I still don't know what I can do. Like I've already mentioned, I'm no counsellor.'

'Well, maybe we can look at it another way? How do you start to solve a problem?'

Solaris stared at him in surprise for a moment. 'You need to figure out what the problem is.'

Sion groaned. 'Well, it's obvious. That thing is inside Spyro, and we don't know how to get it out.'

'That's not the only problem. As a result of that "thing," Spyro had to leave Warfang.'

'And Cynder's worried to death about him. I am too.'

Solaris frowned to herself, and Sion peered at her curiously.

'What about you? Are you worried?'

The blue dragoness continued to scowl for several seconds. 'He's the purple dragon. But… I have to admit even I have doubts about all this. What bothers me the most is the Aethereal's motivations –I don't know them, therefore I don't know what will happen to Spyro...'

Sion nodded slowly before clearing his throat. 'Yes, well… the problem we're having right now is Cynder.'

Solaris shifted her gaze and narrowed her eyes. 'Hmm… in the same vein, she's worried because, like us, she doesn't know the Aethereal's motivations. And perhaps, separately, if Spyro is safe.'

'So… that would mean the problem there is because she can't talk to him at all?'

'Yes. If there was a way he could be contacted, even just once…'

They both sat there, pondering to themselves silently for several minutes. As Solaris' gaze began to clear and relax, Sion looked up hopefully.

'Got anything?'

'Only a possibility… but it's better than nothing.'

Sparx and Alaia were waiting for them as Sion returned with Solaris in tow, Sparx glancing at the blue dragoness with surprise, not only at her but her saddlebag.

'I let Raina step out for a while. It wasn't healthy for her to stay and dwell so long…' The olive dragoness glanced between them both eagerly. 'Since Solaris is here, does that mean you've got something that could help?'

Solaris maintained a stoic expression while Sion tried to smile. 'Well, maybe. We'll try and talk to Cynder, but…' He glanced at Solaris out of the corner of his eye. 'Should they come with us?'

The blue dragoness shook her head stiffly. 'The less people, the better. Cynder needs to do this; otherwise it won't really help her. And I'd rather not have other interruptions.'

Sion nodded to the pair in front of them. 'You guys just stay and look out for the others, okay? Corla or Tython might come back.'

Sparx and Alaia glanced at each other for a moment, and Sparx shrugged. 'Go ahead. We've already tried everything else.'

Sion went in first, and when Solaris came in after to stand beside him, Cynder forced a smile up at them.

'Sion and Solaris… I don't remember the last time you would voluntarily stay in one place like this…'

They both frowned worriedly as the smile definitely did not reach her eyes.

'Cynder, we've been… talking…' Sion began awkwardly, but managed a smile, 'and while we can't exactly help Spyro, we figured out something that could help you.'

Cynder's smile fell. 'Really? Unless you tell me some way I can find him without getting attacked by that monster, I really doubt that.'

'Not find,' Solaris began, 'but I narrowed it down to being able to talk to him. If you could talk to him in some way, that would help. Correct?'

Cynder slowly frowned at her as she processed the statement. 'Of course it would help! But I can't talk to him with my mind or anything. Same thing with the Chronicler. Believe me, I've tried.'

Solaris growled to herself for a moment. 'No doubt the Guardians have tried too. It doesn't help that none of you have actually met the Chronicler.'

As Cynder nodded miserably, Sion cleared his throat as he cut in. 'Well then there's got to be some other way! Solaris? Care to explain?'

'Right… aside from magical means, is there a way to send him actual letters?'

Cynder shook her head, but slowed a little as she paused. 'No… at least, not without a huge risk. And it might not be possible until he gets to the White Isle. After that, I have no idea where he's going to go…'

'Risk?' Sion asked. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean Hunter's falcons. They're the only ones I can think of that could get a message to him, at least without getting attacked. But what if Talon is the only one that… Aethereal, wouldn't attack? What if I send other falcons after them, and they die as a result?'

Solaris frowned grimly. 'We're aware of that. But it might be the only way. Spyro did take some materials with him, so there's a possibility he could keep us up to date. And he might find out what I've been trying to for the past year.'

'And tell us he's alright!' Sion cut in indignantly.

'Yes, that too.' Solaris frowned again. 'Though even if he's safe, I doubt he's "alright".'

Cynder stared at the floor for a long time, her eyes clearing a little, enough for her to stand up.

'So… the only way I might contact Spyro, is to get one of the falcons to do it…'

Sion nodded gently. 'That's all me and Solaris could come up with.'

Solaris frowned indignantly and was about to retort when Cynder spoke up softly.

'I'll… guess I'll go and see Hunter then.'

Despite standing up, she remained still for several seconds.

'Do you… want us to come with you?' Sion asked.

Cynder nodded slowly as she averted her eyes for a moment. 'If you could…'

Sion nodded earnestly, and he and Solaris stepped aside to let Cynder out through the curtain. Alaia and Sparx smiled as Cynder came out, Sparx quickly redirecting his attention to Sion. 'So… got something now?'

Cynder nodded, still somewhat uncertain. 'Maybe. I'm going to see Hunter, and see if another falcon can send a letter…'

Their eyes brightened. 'Good idea.' Sparx hovered forward towards her. 'Can I tag along?'

Cynder nodded with a small smile. 'Sure, Sparx.'

Sion glanced over at Alaia for a moment. 'Can you stay here until we get back?' She nodded immediately, and Sion grimaced. 'Sorry to put you on the spot.'

'It's fine. At least something can happen now.'

Just before she was about to open the front door, Cynder stopped and turned around, her gaze washing over everyone gratefully. 'Thanks, all of you. This means a lot, what you've done for me…'

They all nodded and smiled, except in Solaris' case.

'Don't mention it!' Sion grinned.

'Yes – please don't.'

Cynder nodded fondly before she turned around again to open the door, squinting as the sunlight streamed into her eyes.

They all followed Cynder's lead as they flew over the city, the black dragoness' wings flapping harder and harder with greater urgency at every passing moment. They didn't find Hunter with the falcons, and so took to asking the Guardians, and the other guards around. They soon found the cheetah practicing in the armoury. Upon hearing their request, Hunter made it very clear that a falcon would have to make the decision, not him, and so led them back to the falcon's roost. The cheetah's left arm was still in a sling, but he looked much better overall. His head was freed from his previous bandages, and he was still able to use his legs without too much trouble.

Upon hearing the incarcerated chirrups' indignant taunts and insults, Hunter immediately grabbed their cages one by one, forcing down his displeasure as he moved them into a deeper storage area of the wooden building. Judging by their panicked cries, it smelled far worse than the main landing. As he came back, Cynder let out something she'd been meaning to ask since they found him.

'Can falcons track each other, Hunter?'

The cheetah's ears twitched for a moment. 'That is a good question. The falcons have always been used to carry messages to other populations, and sometimes carry their replies. As for each other…' He gripped his furry chin. 'I haven't handled the falcons for too long, only a few years. Not one has gone missing since I started. Some of the older cheetahs, or Prowlus or Shiall, might know more. However, if a falcon does accept, I would take that as a sign they can.'

'You do realise the risk involved?' Solaris barked from next to the entrance. 'What if they die going after Talon?'

Hunter nodded. 'As long as they know the risk. I won't force them on this matter, either way.'

As Cynder looked over the rows of birds, she felt exposed as most of them began to pay attention to her without any prompt. They were studying her, and once again, she couldn't help but feel like some otherworldly entity was watching her instead.

'Uh… Hunter? I can't exactly speak Falcon…'

The cheetah shook his head with a light chuckle as he leaned back against one of the wooden posts towards the city overlook. 'Speaking Falcon is not exactly saying words… what truly matters is that you really want what you ask. You might not even have to say it out loud, being a dragon and all.'

Almost all of them looked confused, and he grunted impatiently. 'Basically, it will be better if you ask rather than me. If you want them to take the risk, it has to be for a good reason.'

Cynder slowly frowned determinedly as she looked around at the falcons. There was no doubt in her mind it was important; not just for her, but everyone. Possibly the entire world.

'Spyro's out there, and… we don't know if he'll be safe. Talon's with him… can one of you go after them to deliver a message?'

A few of the falcons blinked and tilted their heads, but she got no other reaction. She then inhaled and closed her eyes, allowing herself to remember the events of the past few days, even those that pained her terribly… especially those. Several images – those burned into her mind – flashed through her head – the most prominent being Spyro looking back while leaving through Warfang's gates, and the glowing white eyes of the Aethereal.

Her eyes shot open as the falcons all started chattering, and at times attempting to screech over each other. She had certainly gotten their attention, but for some reason it was now taken off her.

Hunter stared at the falcons. 'I've never seen them do this before…'

'And what are they doing?' Sparx muttered nervously, having backed off as soon as the falcons started their cacophony.

'Deliberating amongst themselves. It seems they understand your request… and the risk it entails.'

Hunter continued to watch the flock stoically while the others regarded them anxiously, especially Cynder and Sparx.

Surprisingly, the birds only maintained the discussion for a couple of minutes before they all began to return their attention to the black dragoness. One by one, they hopped down from the wooden perches and landed at her feet, their necks raised eagerly. Cynder, and everyone else, stared as all the birds were now surrounding her like a prospective audience.

'The birds are suicidal,' Solaris deadpanned.

Sion snorted at the blue dragoness dismissively. 'Or maybe they know how important Spyro is?'

'Or both?' Sparx suggested haphazardly.

Cynder was taken aback as she shook her head. 'Thank you, all of you… but I only need one.'

Hunter stood straight and stepped closer, kneeling for a closer look at the falcons. 'I can decide who would be best suited to the task. Do you have the message ready?'

Cynder stared at him for a moment before smacking her forehead. 'I haven't written it yet! I didn't know if they would go for it…'

Solaris cleared her throat and stepped forward, fishing out some leatherbark from her saddlebag. 'Well, good thing I brought this.'

Cynder thanked her with a smile and found the best position within the wooden hut to write; a clear area of stone with a full beam of sunlight from the nearest window. She soon realised she had a lot to say, but nonetheless finished her message quickly. She looked around at the others for a moment.

'There's still plenty of space… do any of you want to write anything?'

The other two dragons and dragonfly glanced between each other. 'You've basically said that if the message reaches him, then keep sending updates back and forth?' Solaris clarified.

'Yeah…'

'Then that's all that's needed for now.' The blue dragoness concluded. 'Let's just see if it works first.' She looked at the other two. 'Agreed?'

Sion shrugged to himself. 'I guess. I'll have a lot of questions for him if this does work.'

Sparx nodded to the bronze drake in agreement. 'I think we all will.'

Solaris walked forward to study the leatherbark. 'There's enough space for a reply. You could add something to say he can use it to send back.'

Cynder did just that, and once she was done, most of the falcons had hopped back onto their perch, with exception of one still at Hunter's feet. While it wasn't obvious amongst the others, now alone, the falcon's tail and head feathers had maroon streaks running through its otherwise dark feathers.

'Crimson here would be the most suited to the task. There is little in the way of civilisation around the White Isle and Neratha's coast, but there were one or two cheetah outposts in which he had to find parties that sailed in the area.' Hunter took the parchment and rolled it carefully, fishing out some string from a box within the storage area. He then tied the parchment to Crimson's back, joining it at the neck and tail section, as it was too large for his legs. The falcon regarded the dragons and dragonfly with a hard look, taking little notice of Hunter's work.

Once he was finished, he held out his arm, and Crimson hopped on obediently. 'As for finding Talon… I hope he can. The falcons are certainly willing to find him and Spyro. I can only hope you come back safe, Crimson.'

The falcon trilled confidently as he faced Hunter, the cheetah walking over to the wide-open window. Crimson ruffled his feathers to make sure the scroll was firmly attached, before taking off to fly over Warfang, his silhouette quickly disappearing to the east as he went.

'If he does find them,' Solaris asked, 'how long will it take to get a reply?'

'If he knew exactly where they were, with no other interruptions…' – Hunter paused thoughtfully – 'it would take around a week. However, to be realistic, the ocean is vast with little in the way of landmarks. Thankfully, Crimson knows Talon's scent. I'd say a more likely timeframe is ten days.'

'Ten days…' Cynder repeated to herself. 'It's not going to be easy to wait.'

Sion nodded at her with encouragement. 'At least you're not going to stay inside that whole time, right?'

Cynder lowered her head reluctantly. 'I'll… try, Sion.'

'That's all we can ask,' Sparx said gently.

They all stayed silent for a while, watching Crimson as far as they could before he disappeared over the Viridian Forest.

There was no sound, sight or smell. Spyro felt no sensation of his limbs or body. He did not know if he was still alive.

Then, he felt something; a slight prick just behind his head. The sensation didn't abate, continuing incessantly. Gradually, he felt the weight of his own head, his chin brushing against something coarse, yet somewhat warm. He twitched with a groan, blinking as his vision came into focus upon opening his eyes.

Apart from the gentle lapping of waves on the sandbar, it was very quiet. The evening air was very still, and felt almost otherworldly, unnatural. Rays of sunlight from the west were filtered by a strange fog, and the sight of the continent was long gone. The sensation…it felt almost familiar.

Spyro opened his mouth, but winced as his gut clenched for a moment. Just then, the image of the Rhunatha came flooding back, along with his limbs feeling completely numb. Even his neck induced a cramp when he tried to lift his head. He groaned before just letting himself rest, as he felt more feeling slowly coming back to his body. However, he realised he was still wearing his cloak, which was still dripping wet against his back. The Rhunatha couldn't have been too long ago, then…

He stared forward in disbelief. He was nearly eaten by a Rhunatha, and yet was somehow alive, if somewhat stranded on a small, lone sandbar.

How did I get here?

Standing right beside his head was Talon. While the bird's beady eyes betrayed no emotion, he could tell the bird was happy to see him awake.

'That… poking I felt… was that you?'

Talon trilled affirmatively.

'Did you… lead it here?'

Talon inclined his head, circling around him for a minute. Spyro couldn't tell what the bird was doing, but he guessed he was checking the other parts of his body. Then he felt another prick, then multiple in rapid succession. Talon was standing on his tail, and it twitched under the falcon's claws. It took several minutes, but Spyro's joints gradually loosened enough where he was able to push himself to stand. His arms buckled more than his legs, and it took him a few tries to stand on them. As he raised his head, he peered through the fog around him until he noticed a distant landmass, and saw a blue and white rock, surrounding a beach of silver sand.

The White Isle.

He exhaled with some measure of relief. Just like the first time, a wild animal had inadvertently led him to this place… Though judging from the impacts engraved in the sand before him, the Rhunatha was much rougher on him. As he took a step forward, he winced and clutched his right shoulder. He was battered and bruised, and it wouldn't surprise him if something was broken.

I can only hope there are some healing gems nearby…

He sat again and unfurled his wings. They seemed no worse than before, thankfully enough – he must have closed them to his body on instinct. He closed his eyes, and after a while, he had to admit the place had a soothing energy. After going through the Silent Plains, he appreciated it more… and it felt similar to using crystals.

He remained in that position for another hour. His limbs and joints loosened more and more, and eventually his bruises began to feel less crippling. He tried to stand up again, and found it much easier.

Could the energy be healing me a little? It's not as obvious as a gem, but it certainly feels like it.

He shook off the thought and concentrated on his path over the water. There were no disturbances in the surface, and he felt nothing major through the sand. The Rhunatha was long gone.

Once he was able to stand tall without significant issue, he took off from the sandbar, Talon following suit. He took care to fly as high as he could without losing sight of the distant beach, just in case anything else was lurking beneath the surface.

Thankfully, he landed on the white shore with little issue. The ruins and landscape looked untouched from when he last visited – the sparse blue grass and overhanging trees casting very little shadow. Aside from flickering lights and the scurrying of tiny helmet crabs, he received no greeting, only the hollow winds channelled by still, grey ruins. Swallowing his trepidation at what lay ahead, he pushed himself forward into the caverns.

Within the first half an hour Spyro almost wished golems and other strange contraptions would emerge. All he had for company was Talon gliding from vantage point to vantage point, the occasional breeze, and the constant feeling that he was being watched. There were no locked doors, and many objects that would otherwise be enchanted, such as the flying books and ever-burning candles, were inanimate. Only some of the small platforms still hovered up in the air. Despite the brimming energy of the place, Spyro couldn't help but feel like its power had diminished somewhat. Or, on a more optimistic note, that the Chronicler left the defences alone to allow him through.

His thoughts soon drifted back to Warfang, images of his friends flashing through his head. He could only imagine what they were doing now. The image of Cynder, sitting alone and scared, came to the forefront. He slowed down, bowing his head towards the cold ground and clenched his eyes shut as his own body sunk under the weight of loneliness.

Cynder… why? Why did I have to leave her alone? Why couldn't we just be left alone…?

As he fought the urge to cry, he was jolted by a sharp screech from above. Talon stared down at him with concern, and he shook the thoughts from his head.

'That's right… I specifically asked her to not shut herself away. I can only hope Sion and the others will help her through this…'

Spyro forced his thoughts to drift to Sion, puzzling away scenarios in his head to exercise his brain as he picked up the pace. After the other dragons found out he was immune, or at least resistant to the Aether breath, the military would look at him more closely. An ability like that was sure to come in useful – against Malefor, or anything else from Convexity that might come along, such as that Elraith.

And me… or rather, this thing inside me…

Panic momentarily shot through his spine as its white eyes flashed before him, but he blinked the image from his head. He had found it difficult to sleep, and kept his distance from Talon in the beginning, but through the past couple of days he heard and felt nothing from it. The first night, he had tried to ask it what it wanted in his head as he lay awake, but got no response. Judging by the lack of intervention, he could only hope he was going in the right direction… and that Talon would be safe to stay with him.

Hope is not enough. Chronicler, please have something for me…

Thankfully, there were a few gems on the paths, and soon his bruises and stiff joints were no longer an issue. As he allowed himself to hover longer than usual, flying soon began to feel normal again.

Despite it having been late evening when he entered, the place remained dimly lit, as if time had no meaning. He often looked out at the exposed ocean, and the sky remained a subdued mixture of blue and silver, the outside world completely closed off by the fog.

It's like I'm being sealed in…

Spyro tried to focus on Warfang's developments, but the more he thought about it, the more he missed the whole city, and the ruins' now claustrophobic passages only exacerbated the feeling. All he could do was hurry to stave off his melancholic musings.

He kept his focus on where he was going; with the passages feeling much smaller after his growth, it was hard for him to rely on memory to know where to go. Any door, mural or littered objects that contained multiple orb or empty slots caught his attention, especially when there were four of them in the same place. He remembered the final rooms being entrenched deep in the isle, and so he focused on passages that sloped downwards as well. Any openings he could reach above to circumvent obstacles, he took.

One landmark he recognised as he squeezed through the previous path before was a wide, crumbling wall with a tall arching gate in the middle, flanked by two dragon statues. Elegant blue runes coated the tall arch and ran over the domed ceiling. The stone door was closed tight, but as Spyro stood in front of it, no metal spiders came crawling out from the ground or falling from openings up above. Instead, several of the contraptions were strewn about messily, orbs still intact. Spyro eyed the first one suspiciously, tucked away against a thick tree. He slowly reached for the orb, eyes darting around for signs of an ambush, even though Talon was perched on the tree vigilantly. Nothing came, and he easily tore the orb from the thin metal. Still proceeding carefully, he placed the orb into the first stone slot to the left of the doorway. As he fitted it in, the orb flashed a brilliant green for a split second, causing Spyro to drop it and pulled his paw back instinctively, with the orb returning to its milky white translucency. He moved his head closer, and the orb seemed to glow faintly. Curious, he placed his claw over the top slowly, and the orb shone again, humming with energy. He retracted his paw after a minute, but it retained its emerald glow.

Looking around, he quickly located three more orbs and did the same, the others glowing the corresponding colours of red, yellow and blue.

The stone slid open with a crack and he stared down the shrouded, dark passage. It was easy to recognise the room; the stone passage was in good condition as opposed to the ruinous surroundings. It was straight and simple, with the entire room ahead forming a circle. Four passages surrounded the centre at ninety-degree angles from each other, each flanked by two runed pedestals. It seemed that the rock reformed itself after a number of years – that or the Chronicler just regenerated them with magic. And in the lower section at the centre was a wide, raised dais that glowed in a pillar of white light.

He couldn't help but stare deep into the glowing column; an idea forming in his head. He knew the Chronicler was on the other side of the far stone door… but for some reason he couldn't place, he was drawn to the light. He wanted answers, and despite no test being needed – no disembodied voice around – he felt, knew, that the dais could help.

Talon trilled cautiously as he approached it, but the sound was put aside as the light enveloped all his senses. He was too big to fit his whole body on it, but he placed his front two paws on its misty surface, closing his eyes as he let the darkness take him.

At first, he couldn't see anything. Then, swirling shapes and a faint glow in the distance slowly lit his path, and Spyro looked around. There was nothing surrounding him but wisps of violet energy in the distance, separated by nothing, only a dark horizon that flew off in every direction with no end in sight.

He stood on a massive disc, hovering on its own amidst the vast empty space. The edges ended gradually, fading into dark mist. The surface was silver otherwise, making it easy to distinguish against the background.

Standing right in front of him was his target. The creature's body mirrored his, the proportions all very much identical, with the exception of its wings. The appendages branched out and waved upwards with no sense of physics or gravity.

He trembled as its white eyes bore into him, but he steeled his gaze and glared back. This was a chance to confront it directly, and he was not going to let it go easily.

'I've found you.'

The Aethereal didn't move for several seconds, but blinked indifferently, its voice passing through him like hollow whispers. 'Have you?'

Spyro ignored its question. 'Tell me. What do you want with me?! Why have you done all this?'

'Does it matter what I tell you?'

It took Spyro a moment to absorb its words. 'What are you talking about?'

'Think to yourself; where are we? What is this place?'

Spyro halted his furious line of thought for a moment. 'A realm… separated from time and space…' He frowned to himself. 'I've been here in my dreams.'

The Aethereal nodded. 'Indeed. So is this real?'

Spyro found he couldn't answer the question. 'Why does that matter?'

'Think to your last visit here. You fought an embodiment of what Cynder could have been. In other words, your own fear. This place makes your fears manifest themselves in a manner you can confront. However…'

It tilted its head knowingly. 'After your battle, you were uninjured. But, you did not let yourself get hit, either. Therefore, you have no way of knowing if this is real. So there's no way of knowing if my answers are real, or mere fabrications of what you want to hear.'

Spyro clutched his head as it clenched painfully. 'What? I don't understand…'

'Don't you get it, fool? This is pointless.'

Spyro stiffened his jaw with a growl. 'No. I'm getting some answers, now. Tell me what you want!'

The Aethereal shook its head. 'Like I said: it does not matter what I want. What you want is a resolution. And you believe, for some reason… that fighting me will achieve that.'

Spyro lowered his head. 'That's right. And you have one more chance to talk.'

'And now you're resorting to threats… interesting…'

Spyro glared at the creature, studying it for any movements or weaknesses. He couldn't be sure if its reaction was genuine, or if it really was just what he thought it was…

He let out a frustrated growl and spat a fireball forward. The Aethereal barely reacted, covering itself with one of its fanning wings. The fireball's magic dissipated into nothing within seconds, cinders trailing off the wing as it waved it free. He tried again, this time launching several thick Ice shards. It dodged to the right, its mouth opening for a second before unleashing a focused purple beam, and he ducked and rolled to avoid it. The Aethereal stood unfazed, watching for his next move.

He hesitated, as he knew the creature was very dangerous up close, if what he knew about Hunter's injuries and his rampage through Warfang was anything to go by. However, it was not attacking, and he had no other options.

He launched himself forward, focusing on the Aethereal's claws. It hissed and raised its right foreleg, its claws sharpening in preparation. As soon as it did so, he blasted the limb with an Earth Shot, angling it to the claw in particular. The Aethereal darted away instead, and he landed heavily in the middle of the platform, turning around just in time to avoid another purple beam.

It's so fast! How am I supposed to–

He widened his eyes as the Aethereal darted forward, almost fading into the darkness beyond. He backpedalled and curled his wings defensively, but within a split second pain surged from his chest to his shoulder, crimson blood spraying out in front of him.

Instead of taking advantage of the opening, the Aethereal darted away, flicking his blood off its claws. He clutched at the wound: several deep gashes were etched in his flesh.

He could still move, somehow, but he stepped back in a panic as the Aethereal lowered its head again. And then, something switched, as if a wave within himself spread out to this twisted world around him.

The Aethereal charged forward, but instead of fading away, he could clearly see its foot scrape the silver surface beneath. He instinctively lowered himself to the right and managed to dodge the initial slash – watching in horror as the claws momentarily extended into long, razor sharp blades.

The Aethereal narrowed its eyes, planting its unsheathed claw on the ground, and aiming its other claw right at his position. He couldn't change direction in time; with the world slowed down, and him along with it, he couldn't escape the effect.

His breath left him as the dark blades penetrated his chest. Even with Dragon Time, the Aethereal was still faster than him. The silver surface below rushed up towards him as he sank and coughed up more blood, it stood and regarded him with disappointment.

'Do you understand now? You cannot escape.'

Spyro could not answer; his throat was slowly clogging up with blood as his body sagged.

'I am not the creature inside you. I am the manifestation of your fear… Do you understand what that fear is?'

Spyro could no longer keep his head up.

'It is not me you fear. It is your future. A future of darkness that you hoped to escape… It's time you accepted this fate. You must confront it whether you like it or not.'

His eyes were only able to register it staring down at him, slowly raising a claw and tipping it towards his neck. He couldn't move even as the claws extended, his body screaming for him to move, but could only sit there helplessly.

'Embrace this power, for you will need it.'

Spyro screamed.

It was all he could do. His eyes were clenched shut, his body thrashing about wildly, despite the blades impaling his flesh still etched in memory.

His tail and wings smacked against solid surfaces, and he clutched his head in a curling position in an attempt to fight off the deathly sensation. Flashes of the Aethereal raced through his head, along with lingering images from the last time it invaded his mind.

'..y…ro…!'

He began to make out a voice through the images, and soon realised the objects he was hitting were moving. They resisted his movements, and he felt his arms being held down whilst the familiar voice became clearer.

'Spyro! You must calm down!'

As it rang out in his eardrums, his panic began to ebb. The voice was familiar, soothing. He forced himself to open his eyes, staring in disbelief at the figure standing before him.

'…Ignitus? No, it can't be…' He clenched his eyes shut and curled up again. 'It's a trick… it's not real…'

'Young dragon, look at me. Look carefully.' The blue dragon looked over at the falcon perched on one of the runic stones. 'Talon's here. You never left this place.'

Spyro forced himself to look again. Ignitus was Ignitus… but he was blue, and wearing the Chronicler's robes.

'You… you are. But at the same time, you're not…'

He remained still long enough for Ignitus to release him from his grip. The purple drake stared at the floor for several moments, his voice quivering when he finally spoke.

'Ignitus? Is it really you?'

The Chronicler smiled, shades of regret present behind his orange eyes. 'Through some form, I continue in this world, Spyro. How I've missed you, young dragon... along with everyone else…'

Spyro bit on his jaw. His wariness that had built up over the past few days was slowly crumbling. Despite everything he had gone through, knowing he really was tied to a dark fate… just once, he wanted to feel safe again. Even if it wasn't exactly where he wanted to be. Even if none of this was real, and just a dream…

'I missed you too, Ignitus.'

He couldn't control himself. He leapt forward, burying his forehead against Ignitus' robes, quickly breaking out into uncontrollable sobs.

Ignitus nuzzled the top of his head gently with his scaly chin, draping one of his wings around the young drake's side. Talon hopped down from his perch, nuzzling the back of Spyro's arm warmly.

For the first time since he left Warfang, Spyro was able to forget what happened, allowing himself to feel safe. Whether it was a dream or not… he didn't care.