Spyro: Dawn of Light, 3-22

SPYRO: DAWN OF LIGHT
Part 3




CHAPTER 22




Rummaging through her collection of stored stuff, Plazyma laid out her supplies for the second time, feeling something was amiss.  "Alright...got that damn rope Neves always whines about needing but never gets used... about seven thousand treasure's worth of gems... my lightning stone... dried meats- wait I had those all this time?!"  She facepawed and dragged her paw down her face with a groan.  "Damnit all..."  The lack of response behind her caught her attention.  Turning around she found Cynder curled up in the corner.  "What, no comment?  We had meat the whole time we were out there."  A small wing shrug was the only answer.  "You gonna move your ass any time soon?"

"I'm not going back to Warfang..."  Black scales shivered under the red wing.  

"What happened this time?" Plazyma growled, "Flame tripped you up in public or something?"

"I don't wanna talk about it!"  With that Cynder unfurled herself and bolted out of the room, through the dojo, and onto the balcony, taking off quickly with a yell of rage.  Plazyma blinked after her, unsure how to respond.  

"Damn..."  Having lost track of her inventory, but now rather unsettled, she gathered everything up and then went to track down Flame.  Not seeing him in the Temple proper, she ran into Volteer on his way back from checking the Temple's systems.

"Some vexation about you?" he asked.

"Where's Flame?"

"I...don't know."

"What's wrong with Cynder then?"

The guardian's eyes darkened.  "That shadow dragon had terrorized the city before Tephra's army swooped in.  After Cynder fended Tephra off, the civilians ganged up on her and almost stoned her, believing her to be-"

"That shadow dragon...ugh not again."

"Most unfortunate but without definitive proof a resolution cannot be achieved.  What happened just before we left though was...less than desirable.  We managed to rescue Cynder, and we hid her near the portals with Flame while we went to investigate something, but in her absence the dark dragon struck again and chased us to the portals.  The citizens were screaming about it being Cynder."  A brief silence fell as Plazyma fumed at their stupidity.  "We should part our ways and prepare for the next episode."  With that he left her, looking rather excited himself.  As she watched him leave, things suddenly clicked for her; Ignitus was probably the only guardian here who had ever seen the Forgotten Realms, Volteer and the others had apparently spent so much time fighting the Shadow Gems and helping Ignitus cover up the past that they'd probably never gotten the chance to visit before the old fire elder severed the connections.  No wonder the lightning guardian was so giddy.  

Heading back to the room, Plazyma sighed, feeling conflicted again.  She laid down and pulled out her lightning stone, lightly gnawing on it as her mind spun.  Should she go after Cynder or not?  She probably wasn't one Cynder would take too kindly to right now, given the magnitude of the problem.  As jolts of electricity danced over her tongue she felt herself relaxing a little.

Yeah...it would probably be best to at least try to get Cynder back.  Glancing over at Spyro laying listlessly on his bed, she realized he'd heard the whole outburst.  A pang of guilt shot through her, and pity.  Even though she loved Caelos, her feelings for Spyro suddenly bubbled up again.  Putting her stone away again she quickly ran out and flew up to the Temple roof, looking around for any sign but failing.  Cynder wouldn't have gone far though, she rarely did.  Closing her eyes, the electric dragoness crackled all over, face strained a bit as she felt around.  Several dim signatures in the Temple below her, their identities shielded by the building's defenses.  Countless tiny animals everywhere on the island, most going into early hibernation.  Something strange caught her attention though.  Here and there, she felt thin but powerful jolts, just fast blips, scattered all over the island.  A stronger, more constant signal was heading right towards one of the points.  Was that Cynder?  It didn't have her signature, but for that matter she may have cloaked herself.  Spreading her wings, Plazyma swept off towards the curious signals, doing her best to dampen her own elemental presence.  

Through the Mushroom Forest she tracked the two electric pulses, the others all around slowly growing stronger.  Another definite dragon electric signal was approaching swiftly from behind her, someone unknown but of equal size.  Sandra or Dune, maybe?  But they were also making a straight line for Plazyma's target too.  Ducking into the forest and hiding under a large mushroom cap, she waited a few seconds for her follower to fly by.  Black and silver scales raced by with hurried breath.  Sidian?  What the heck was he doing out here?  Confused, Plazyma gave chase, still keeping herself dampened.  

The earth dragon made no notice of her, fixated on something ahead.  His pulse and electrical activity were rather severe, was he scared?  Was he running from something, or did he sense something she couldn't?  An unusual sense of concern and dread began to plague the pit of her stomach.  Was something wrong?  

From the shadows, Cynder stared at the rift in the air before her.  What had started as strange pulses of shadow power had turned into a widening crack.  As if there were a pane of glass in the air, a visible crack hung there suspended.  With every pulse of shadow the crack silently spread a little more.  This one felt different from the others around the island.  What had started as a run to get away from the Temple had turned quickly into an expedition, and the target lay here before her.  She didn't trust this thing, but she had no idea what it was.  An effect of the Eternal Night, maybe?  A rare crystal spawning?  An enemy establishing a transportation focus?  An elemental rift opening up?  Convexity pushing through?  A million ideas sped through her mind.  So fixated was she on this crack in the air that she didn't feel Sidian or Plazyma racing up to her.  She did, however, feel a paw on her shoulder.

"ACK!!"

"Shh!" Plazyma hissed, pulling her back.  "What's going on?"

"I don't know..." Cynder replied, still staring.  "It's ben growing but I have no idea what's happening.  I feel shadow power coming from it."

"I felt electricity, but whatever it is we gotta go let the guardians know."

Sidian alighted right next to the crack, tumbling flat on his face.  "Oww!" he yelped, sniffling and rubbing his nose.  "Owowow..."  Ignoring the trickle of blood running from his nostril he scrabbled up and stood before the crack.  "GO AWAY!!" he shouted at it.  " GO!! GET OUTTA HERE!!"

"Sidian!" Cynder barked, the earth dragon snapping around with a backwards jump of fright.  "What are you doing?"

"Th-th-this rift is-" Cynder jerked when he simply flew to the side as if struck hard by something.  Something dark had just happened, she'd felt it, but...what?  Plazyma too stared in bewilderment as he righted himself, Bianca's words coming to mind.  Sidian knew what this thing was, but...had he just been punished for almost revealing it?  "Owww..." he whimpered, looking ready to cry.

"We need to get him to the Temple."  Cynder's voice was low.  

"I know that.  He landed wrong on his side, if he can still fly he's gonna be lucky.  We get him back, then we're leaving."

Turning sharply enough for her tailblade to make a loud whiiiing through the air, Cynder turned her back to them.  "Not going.  I already told you."

"Cynder, don't do this to us."

"It's not what I'm doing to you," she shot back, "it's what they're doing to me, or going to do!  You saw it yourself, they all hate me!  They were looking to capture me!"

"Fine, have it your way."  With that she took off, Sidian following but haphazardly as his wing on his smitten side stood out stiffly, refusing to flex properly.  

It was a much slower flight back to the Temple, Sidian having to rely on gliding to get back.  Plazyma offered to zap him back, but he'd flinched away from her at the thought.  Flying ahead of him, she landed on the balcony first, finding Ignitus staring out over the ocean and Cyril coming out of the Temple.  "Dear Ancestors, young one, where were you?  Where are Sidian and Cynder?" he called out as he descended.

"Sidian's hurt!" she replied.  Ignitus whipped around and bounded over, standing up on his hind legs and reaching out with his forelegs and wings just as the younger black dragon came in for a landing.  Carrying him quickly into the dojo, the fire elder disappeared from sight, leaving Cyril and Plazyma.  

"Quickly, tell me what is wrong."

"Cynder left, she's hiding and doesn't wanna go to Warfang.  She found a rift in the air.  They're all over the island, I count about...twenty I think.  They're giving off energy, Cynder felt darkness but I feel electricity.  Sidian went to the one we were at and was about to tell us what it is, but he just...flew to the side.  Like a ghost whacked him or something."

The ice guardian grumbled to himself, eyes slitted.  "Circumstances are dire but I think we should leave Cynder alone for now, poor girl really shouldn't be heading back so soon after what happened.  I'll go in her stead."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Cyril shot her a smirk.  "My dear, is this concern I hear from you?"  She rolled her eyes and ambled past him up the stairs to the Temple.  He chuckled, watching her briefly pause to readjust the flower in her crests.  "Ignitus was right in leaving her to Caelos... world of good for her it appears."  He turned to follow her, but paused when he felt a tingle of power nearby, somewhere near the entrance to the gardens.  He detoured and made his way along the side path, finding Cynder staring up at a statue, its weathered blank eyes staring back.  "Are you alright, young one?"

She sighed heavily.  "No...no I'm not.  I don't wanna go to Warfang, but...Neves is gonna end up leaving to go after Shimmer.  Plazyma's gonna be on her own."

"We'll send Caelos."

"Spyro needs him here to teach Sidian sign language."  

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to."

Shaking her head she stared back up at the statue.  "No...I'm going.  I have to.  Spyro can't go because he's blind, he needs me to go in his stead.  Plazyma shouldn't be going alone if she might end up attracting attention."  Looking off into the distance she seemed to deflate a bit.  "I feel like I know what those rifts are, but something is blocking it from me...and Sidian knows, but dark powers punished him for almost telling.  If something does end up happening here Caelos will probably be needed too."

"If such is your concern, don't you think his air powers would be better suited to the open plains before Warfang, and your shadow for this forest?"

"Maybe... I know she works better with Caelos, and I wanna be here..."  She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.  Cyril smirked a bit.  "But she said not to send Caelos, and he's the best of us at sign language..."

"I dislike being curt but time is of the essence at the moment.  If you have made your decision I urge you to make preparations to leave.  But do not let this 'have to' matter be your only factor, little one.  As Ignitus has so oft stated, let your heart guide you, especially in these doubtful and troubled times."

"It says I need to go.  I just...I don't want to."

The old ice dragon huffed in thought.  "Think of it this way then; you are going in Spyro's stead.  And indeed you are, I've no doubt Spyro's power would be of greater use there than anywhere, if the motive is to garner attention from the resurrected.  But circumstances as they are, you are his fallback."

"Yeah...I guess so."  She turned and passed him, heading into the dojo.  She was still all geared up from their last excursion, and they didn't have any jerky or other dried meats at the moment for her to stock up on, so she headed up to the portal to meet Plazyma and Caelos.  He was tying her armor a little tighter to her body.  There was an awkward silence between the two girls, struggling to find something to say, until finally Caelos finished his work.

"You uh...need him to check your armor too?"

"I'm good."

The silver wind dragon nuzzled Plazyma, and they shared a quick kiss before he powered up the portal and then left the room.  Cynder watched the door roll shut behind him, then turned to the gate, watching the colors softly swirl.  "Plazyma...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For...y'know.  All the trouble I cause all the time..."

"There's not much to be sorry for.  We're girls."  She smirked playfully, her crests slipping from her horns back over her face the way they used to.  Cynder couldn't help but laugh back.  "We make trouble all the time.  Least you're better than I was, you weren't a self-absorbed bitch like me."

"Making use of Caelos not censoring you?"

"Damn straight.  Now let's go kick some ass."

"Aren't we waiting for the others?"

"They can catch up."

The door rolled open again, Neves leading Hunter and Bianca.  "You two ready?"



-------------



The Temple fell oddly quiet as everyone left.  The Professor and Volteer followed soon after, Terrador joining as well for extra security in case of the worst.  Spyro sighed as he laid on his bed, feeling estranged.  This blindness was almost scarier than his first sojourn into that strange black and white realm.  

Heavy footfalls passed through the door.  "I see Sidian is asleep...good.  He needs it."  Ignitus huffed.  "So much darkness around us..."

"Is he okay?"

"Hard to say.  Whatever struck him, it was meant to cripple.  Thank the ancestors he has no broken bones."  Heading over to Spyro's bed he sat down.  "How are you?"

An angry puff was the reply.  

"Yes...I understand your frustration.  I do apologize, but you must understand the circumstances."

"I do, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"I know.  I should have divulged more information earlier, but perhaps now is better, when there aren't so many voices to lead on distractions and tangents.  What I said before applies to all of you, but there is...some history that you specifically should be aware of...history that has recently been mentioned."

Spyro sighed again, trying to calm himself.  "Alright..."

"There's a lot to cover, are you sure you're ready?"

"Yeah."

"Much of what we have withheld from you relates to Malefor's era, this much you've probably surmised by now.  You know he was the first purple dragon...at least of this new age.  After his apparent demise, the guardians returned but were met with vicious reproach.  Trust in dragons had dwindled in the Dark Master's wake.  Many of the colonies and villages were threatening to revolt against dragons if their true aim was to destroy the world.  The guardians and their subordinates were hard-pressed to quell these flames of distress, and several of them were, for lack of better terms, martyred for their 'betrayal'.  Even with Malefor gone his legacy continued to spread, but over the years the flames died off finally and everyone went back to their normal lives, more or less, fixing the damage of the war and hunting down the stragglers of Malefor's conjured and converted armies.  During these episodes though, and in fact the cause for two of the guardians' untimely deaths, they were conducting research into the dark one's downfall."

"Why would that lead to them being killed?" Spyro asked nervously.

"Because there were others looking into it as well, with...darker intentions.  We believe some were looking for the source of his power, some may even have been seeking to be his apprentices.  Some may have been merely looking for more fuel for the anti-dragon propaganda war.  The center of this controversy was 'Malefor's Journal', several of the other trainees had claimed he kept a journal during his training, but no one ever found it.  The guardians wanted all they could find so they could figure out where they went wrong, and possibly hope to backtrack along his actions and find where exactly he had laid his traps and seeds for the future.  They knew he had set many fallbacks, but could not discern any of them for sure without hard evidence.  Many others were on these trails, and came into conflict with the guardians.  Desperate, arrogant, or whatever the case may be, they mounted assaults and ended up killing them."

"That's awful..."

"It is indeed, it's the power of darkness.  Greed, personal agendas...all manner of dark fuels were running rampant in his wake.  One thing that was certain though was that Malefor turned from his natural elements and relied heavily on magic instead, no doubt tutored by Gaul's predecessor in tandem with the late Ape Lord himself.  When this came to light, there was a massive outcry and public shunning of magic, which only exacerbated the dragon hunting.  How the guardians managed to prevent another war, I wish I knew, but they somehow prevented massive bloodshed.  I was tasked some time ago by the previous guardians to look into recent reports that old cover-ups were being undone, and that at all costs I had to prevent old knowledge from resurfacing.  There would be an outcry for dragon blood again if these old texts were to reach the public ear.  I did what I could to hide or even destroy what I could find about the Dark Master, use of magic, the ancient evil beings sealed within the Well, the presence of the Forgotten Realms, even the true natures of the Nonsleepers, as well as most of our history before this age.  But some had already gleaned information, hence those reports I acted on.  It was...a very long and very painful task, because much of this knowledge was necessary should something arise again.  I didn't have time either to sit and study it all for myself so that I may carry the knowledge, for I was being hunted.  Cyril, Terrador, and Volteer, they were later tasked with destroying the sources of power responsible for my hunters and pursuers.  The old elder simply named Red had sunk into madness, supposedly, and found a way to conjure Dark Gems, the essences of negative emotions.  During my travels someone found his methods and was using them to try to reconstruct a dark portal to Convexity's depths, where supposedly one may freely travel through time.  Whether this was possible or not, I do not know, but they managed to worm their way beyond the reach of time, not quite into the Chronicler's realm outside our reality, but close enough that the passage of time was...minute, at best.  They produced crystals within that realm to try to bend it to their will.  While I finished my task, those three struggled among that plane destroying those gems and slaying the ones trying to hinder me and bring back critical information on our history.  We were charged with protection of the public, so...we did what at the time seemed, by all accounts, to be the best way to do so.  If not for all that, Spyro, you would likely never have been born, or would have been killed upon hatching for your color."

"But some knew anyway.  I thought I was frowned on because I'm purple, but...even after they were told I was some sort of savior, they still look at me weird."

"Yes...rumors still run rampant, and I am afraid I am partially responsible for that.  You see, the last part of my task was to seal off the Forgotten Realms for good, but there were refugees who desired to remain with their relatives on this side, or who felt it would be better here than over there in a dying realm."

Spyro shook his head.  "Why would you seal off the Forgotten Realms for good?  Their worlds are dying!"

"I know...but there has been horribly bad blood between them and us.  Due, in part, to the Dark Master.  Because of him, they no longer associated with us, keeping their realm mostly closed off after the Dark One's banishment.  They wanted nothing more to do with us, and were already in the process of destroying all information on that age, and of dragons in general.  Some were even planning a raid to suppress us and make their point clear.  Some, though, did not feel so heated, and did not want to chance the decay.  Hunter was among the children sent here, barely five years old.  I couldn't turn them away.  I allowed one last push of immigrants before I destroyed the last dedicated portal.  But some of them brought rumors of the purple dragon's 'purpose', and the rumors are rather various.  Most believe the purple dragon is the harbinger of destruction, that the purplescale is meant to destroy the world so a new age can begin.  Others believe he is simply a destroyer and meant to end the world and that be it.  Some said the purple one is a bringer of life and guardian of free will, a neutral party who simply exists to maintain life regardless of politics or religions or whatever else may interfere.  A few were saying that you were born simply as a guardian, nature's manifestation of an end-all against those who gain too much power.  Whatever the case may be, the darker rumors usually take hold, especially given that some of the elders before your time still held on to the old hatred and would recount tales and myths from Malefor's age about how dragons would one day rule the world again and bring about its destruction, just as the guardians had very nearly ruled the world and their student had nearly destroyed everything."

"But...the guardians don't rule the world."

"They're not supposed to, no, but Malefor's tutors were so effective at their jobs that the public at large had basically surrendered their lifestyles to the decisions of the guardians.  The public grew lazy on the prosperity, believing that the guardians knew best how things should be handled.  The elders resisted but by the time Malefor came around, their resistance efforts were largely dwarfed by the influx of students looking to become stronger, in light of the Apes and their growing strength and hostility.  With their decisions being taken as law of the land, many later saw this as them ruling the world.  It's unfortunate, but it doesn't take much to incite mass hysteria and sway the public opinion.  So many don't think for themselves and take everything for face value that one small rumor can start riots."  The old one sighed heavily.  "That's why we struggled so hard to cover up the truth about Malefor...to protect you, even if we didn't know when you'd be born.  Rumors still slipped past us and led to you and Cynder being cast out, and Tephra and Sidian being tormented, and countless other atrocities...but at least you're alive."

Silence fell between them as Spyro laid there staring through his eyelids at the ceiling.

"I know it's a lot to take in, so I'll leave you with that for now."

"Good, because it's time to fix his eyes!" Rivyera announced as she padded in with her mate.  Ignitus backed out with a dip of his head, Rivyera taking his place at Spyro's bedside.  Nightshade carefully slanted his wing, sliding a makeshift nest off his back and onto the floor, the three babies snoozing together.  "Alright, this won't be pleasant so let's get it done as quickly as we can."  A flash of water power beside him got his attention, but before he could summon up his wind power to survey, he felt Nightshade's huge paws on either side of his head.

"Open your eyes," came the simple order, shadow power sweeping over his face and focusing on his eyes.

The shadow power clouding the insides of his eyes was uniquely disturbing in its tactile sensation.  The purple dragon had to white-knuckle the edges of the bed to refrain from shaking himself all over and crying his eyes out, it felt like someone had reached in and filled his eyes with onion juice.  Rivyera held him by the muzzle, it was all Spyro could do to fight his urges to squeeze his eyes shut.  At long last she let go and stepped away quickly, the sounds of her medical supplies clattering on the bedside stand rousing the babies from their nap.  "Spyro, close your eyes for now, Night, you can relieve him."

An unrepressed sigh of relief escaped Spyro as the onion juice feeling quickly died off, his eyes watering profusely.  "What's the verdict?" Night grunted.

"Minor outer decay from oxygen deprivation, the blood vessels stopped, but only the small ones.  His eyes should heal fully within a few more days, but for now Spyro, you have to keep a hot compress over your eyes, and no light if you can help it."  She held his muzzle again, something minty and bitter with mold spores in her other paw.  "This is going to sting a bit but it'll help remove the dead tissue.  Cry it out as much as you need to to flush your eyes."  With that she smeared some goopy material over his eyelids.  It instantly sank through his tears.  His eyes shot open, only to meet more of the stuff as it slid off his eyelids.  Nightshade's paw flew to Spyro's face just before his own paws did, placing a cloth pad just under his paws.  Spyro gritted his teeth and groaned, rolling on the bed.  

"You said a bit!!" he cried out.

"I...may have stretched that one just a little..."  The humor in her voice was lost on him as he mashed the cloth against his face.  "Wipe it off and use the cloth to dab away your tears, there's a bowl of water here by the-" Splash "...bed."

Nightshade broke out laughing, Spyro pulling back and shaking his head to fling the water off his face.  Rubbing his face furiously he flopped back down and just held it there, his eyes feeling swollen and constantly leaking now.  "Well, I hope you feel better after that."

"I'll get some new water then.  Keep yourself hydrated."  

Little whines grabbed their attention.  "I'll get him some new water, they're calling for you."

With a click of her claws and another flash of water power, the bowl was washed out and refilled.  "I think they're calling for daddy this time, you've been away long enough.  I need to check on Sidian too."

"Oh all right."  He quickly slipped away, leaving his mate to check on the other afflicted boy.  

"It's okay Sidian.  You'll be okay."  There was a faint undertone of worry in her voice though, as if she didn't believe her own words.  Spyro couldn't blame her for it; how could one be okay against a curse that could nearly break your bones if you said something?  His shoulder was bruised to the bone, as was part of his jaw.  He was lucky to have missed brain damage.  "Just keep these crystals bound tight to the bruises, and come to me if you feel sick, okay?" she instructed slowly, making sure she had his attention and his good ear.  He nodded and sighed, his breath shaky with a restrained breakdown.  "It's upsetting but you must not cry.  We'll get you going again."  She padded back over to Spyro's bed, placing a few red Health Crystals between his toes as he held the cloth to his face.  "Just for good measure, hold these against your eyelids too.  I'll be back soon."

Without everyone else in the Temple, it was a slow and boring evening.  Rivyera would pop in every hour to check on them and renew Spyro's hot compress until they fell asleep.  The pain in his eyes kept the purple dragon from falling asleep until the first hours of the morning when his body finally gave up resisting.  Morning didn't fare much better, except that they were allowed to leave their beds.  After a simple breakfast of grilled seasoned mushrooms and the first of Rivyera and Nightshade's attempt at making jam - which was, all things considered, not bad for a first try - the two boys confined themselves to the room, Sidian amusing himself with a few wire puzzles Ignitus had given him, Spyro practicing his aerial projection abilities as he wound his way between the beds.  At length, bored of the puzzles, Sidian sprawled out in the sunlight on the floor, basking in what little warmth it had to offer.  Spyro's mind was racing as he continued his pacing.  Ignitus hadn't denied that dragons could use magic, but he'd only mentioned Malefor.  How had Malefor learned to use magic?  Gaul had only used dark powers, but then there was Sidian the other night.  He'd broken the unbreakable ice.  Spyro couldn't bring himself to tell the guardians what really happened, but he needed answers now.  Sidian hadn't used any dark power at all, how was it possible for a dragon to use magic that wasn't dark?  He couldn't take it anymore, padding up to Sidian's blurry form on the floor, his breaths distorting the air around him briefly.

"Sidian?" he asked quietly, but there was no response.  "Hey, Sidian?"

"What?" he replied sleepily.

"When were you planning on telling us you know magic?" Spyro whispered.  Sidian's eyes flew open and he skittered away.

"I-I-I-I d-d-don't know wh-wh-what you're-you're talking ab-b-bout!"

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, Sidian...you're not in trouble.  Or you could be if the guardians find out.  They think I broke the ice somehow, and for your sake I'd like them to keep thinking that way.  But I need to know why you did it.  And how, too."

"N-n-n-no...c-c-an't..."

"Dragons can't naturally use magic!" Spyro started, now getting frustrated.  So close to an answer!  "How did you break such a powerful spell if dragons can't use magic?"

Sidian's trembling stopped and he looked up, utterly confused.  "Dragons can use magic," he replied.  "Wh...why would you think we can't?"  His head was tilted in confusion, but Spyro couldn't see it well.

"But...you...the guardians..."  Suddenly, Spyro felt quite stupid.  Thinking over his answer, it dawned on him that the whole "the guardians told us so" suddenly sounded incredibly weak.  "I tried to break it myself but I couldn't use any magic power to do it."

Shaking his head, Sidian sighed.  "I-I-I sh...should've told you...you guys earlier..."  Taking a few deep breaths he looked back up at Spyro, stepping closer.  "I still have memories, here and there...of using magic.  Before I was Grendor."

"Before?"

"I wasn't turned into Grendor right after I was taken...there was this...camp I think...the weather was always hot...they taught me to...to use magic.  There were others like me too.  They said I could leave if I did magic good enough...but when they saw what I could do they took me to this dark cave and...it's black from there."  Looking out the window to his right he groaned.  "I feel like...there's someone I left...but I can't remember."

"Not even a color or a sound?"  But Spyro was on his left side now, his deaf ear turned to the purple dragon.  Silence fell until the black dragon sighed again and stepped down off the windowsill.  

"I can use some magic.  I do still remember the spell I used to break Caelos's curse...I actually made that one myself without Grendor's help.  He fought me, but I repressed him enough to help Caelos.  That much, I remember.  Everything else is broken..."  Shivering, he wrapped his wings around himself.  "E-e-everything in m-m-my head is broken..."

Just outside the room, Spyro felt small presences and bated breath.  "You can come in," he called over his shoulder.  The door rolled open, Dune and Sandra entering.  

"We heard it all..." Sandra admitted, a pang of guilt in her prideful voice.

"We...we could've told you dragons can use magic."

Even if he couldn't see them he still turned to face them.  "Really?"

"Yeah."  A flash of power, small but distinct, met his hide.

"He can't see right now..."

"Oh...right."  The power died off.  It had felt like some sort of warmth, like the heat radiating from a stone left in the sun.  "When you're dealing with the underground you see and...learn a few things.  We both can use a bit of magic, small effects at best.  When we were wearing those collars on the Fellmuth, it was the only way to shield ourselves from the gladiators who weren't in the know."

"In the know?" Sidian asked.  Spyro wondered the same thing, but having heard about the matches through the loudspeaker and Cynder's recounts...

"So...those matches were a planned setup?"

"Mostly..." Dune sounded sad, reminiscent.  "Ours definitely were.  We made the pirates so much money with our act.  The Executioner is anything but, too.  Or well, he used to be, but the pirates beat him badly until he learned how to fight without doing damage.  We'd still knock each other around, a few bruises and cuts and concussions here and there, but mostly everyone was acting.  Mostly...up until that night."

The sound of shivering wings brushing against a feminine hide met the purple's ears.  "That night was awful... and two of them decided to end it there too..."

Pawsteps, then different wings brushing.  Dune was hugging his sister.  "It was mostly an act to rake in money from the patrons who were none the wiser.  But Sandra and I needed to learn magic defense because they used us to test a lot of their newcomers.  They chalked it up to us being earth dragons.  But what we learned, we observed from other dragons before the Green Flash happened."

"Green Flash...?"  Sidian sounded apprehensive.

"Crystal statues."

Spyro shuddered.  "But...then that means everything we were told was a lie."

Sidian sat up.  "Did...did the guardians ever...ever tell you th-that you couldn't?"

The reply died in his throat.  His mind raced over the four or five years he'd spent here at the Temple, and the twelve-such that he'd spent before in the Settlement and its outskirts.  Come to think of it...no, the guardians themselves had never directly said dragons can't use magic.  Only the Settlement elders.  "No...they didn't."

"They were...rumors put in place for public security," Sandra went on.  "We found that out too.  A lot of the patrons who paid to see us would chatter with the pirates, both sides trying to cleverly extort any information they could while 'casually talking'.  Some of them blamed your guardians for perpetuating stagnancy instead of embracing progress by hampering the truth."

Spyro breathed out, sighing but also manifesting his wind power to feel around.  Sidian was still sitting by the wall, his focus riveted on Sandra.  The two earth siblings were still by the doorway.  "So dragons can use magic after all...that explains a lot with the stories of the old dragon clans."

Dune nodded, the motion seeming exaggerated for a moment as it stirred up the air around him.  Every motion seemed to stretch his aerial image of their bodies.  "The old dragon clans, the Artisans, the Peacekeepers, Magiccrafters, Beastmakers, Dreamweavers... they basically created this world.  In ancient legends the dragons were revered as gods.  But they only made the fanciful stuff.  Gnasty Gnorc is one of their last creations.  They researched magic and spells, created fantasy creatures to fill the lands and mingle with the natural creatures already there...they built huge castles, created magic systems of movement... but one of the patrons mentioned that some of them went too far and created monsters in their attempts to secure peace."

"Those golems?"

"Maybe.  He didn't say what they were specifically.  But he also mentioned that they stopped when dark magic was found.  It's that dark magic that we often refer to simply as 'magic' anymore because it's so highly favored by those who flaunt it for evil, while the good magic is kept hidden away for fear of corruption."

"Maybe I should go underground, you've sure learned a lot."  Spyro sighed again, seeing his own breath as a big blob that stretched out and faded into the room.  "Well...there is something you can do, Sidian.  You've been saying you want to help us?"

"Someone say my name?" he replied, looking between the three others.

Getting up and padding closer, Spyro made sure he had Sidian's good ear.  "I want you to learn sign language, but also...you said you remember your spell that cured Caelos?  When you were Grendor you also mentioned trying to figure out how to fight the Nonsleepers."

A spark lit up in the earth dragon's eyes.

"If you want to help us, we need that kind of advantage.  The Nons are one of the more dangerous enemies we've ever faced, but so far they've been quiet and mostly laid back.  I don't think anyone wants to know how powerful they'd be if they were to attack in full force...and I have a very bad feeling that's exactly what's going to happen, and soon."

"Okay...I-I-I'll b-be in the library."  Without pause he got up and darted through the door.

"Should we go help him?" Sandra asked her brother, getting a shrug in reply.  The two made their way out to follow him.  Alone again, Spyro headed over slowly to the window, still feeling his way with his breath.  The rushes of wind from the window clouded his aerial senses, making him run into Caelos' bed which he could've sworn was several feet away.  Standing up at the sill, the cold, dead breeze brushed against him and made him shiver.  Winter was setting in, but it was a lifeless one.  The planet was slowly but surely regressing into...death?  No...darkness.  A hopeless hibernation.  

He had to unravel these mysteries, and soon.  
"Heh...soon...how many times have we said we need to figure these things out 'soon'?" he asked himself, staring into the dark clouds looming over the far shores.  "How many times we've said that yet it just keeps dragging on..."  Slowly feeling his way back to his bed he hopped up and flopped, staring through his eyelids at the ceiling.  Sidian could use magic, huh?  Sandra and Dune too... then all those legends of the Five Dragon Clans weren't so far-fetched after all.  It sure explained Gnasty Gnorc's persistence, and all the other nonsensical creatures he'd seen.  But if dragons were responsible for creating the world...what had come first?  Or had those clans merely banded together to reform the world after one of those catastrophes that kept popping up?

As his mind wandered, he remembered that strange poem.  

"So long as light remains... Victory the light retains..."  He grumbled to himself.  "I've been so focused on other things, I haven't been practicing all my elements."