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The Legend of Spyro: Path of Delusions

Chapter 1

Prayers for the Blessed

The velvety pages laid lazily spread before the light, their end ruffling delicately, the book caressed by a gentle breeze. The tender blow of air crunched the pages slightly, lifting the corner that is so enticing for every book hungry reader, arching it as if it was a taxed belly taking a deep breath. A tear slipped down from the bent edge like from a leaf, smoothly bounced down the stair-like corners of the pages that filled up the rest of the cover until it eventually disappeared from the sight of the light.

*

Life is a fickle game in which something is taken from one to allow the other to progress. A constant race where the most resistant triumph, blindfolded on their way to the finish line, unaware that each step they take causes tremors on the path of another runner.

This is one of the most oblivious and cruelest ways of mortality's progression, yet nothing could be compared to the realization that you yourself have fallen into the pit that unexpectedly opened before you.

Then regret follows.

Then blame follows.

Then disappointment follows.

All of this however was nothing compared to the embraced in relief flashes, short jumps onto the memory lane that always forced you to remember the times when you felt good, might be simple things, might be complicated decisions, in the end both leaving an imprint on your soul that you never forget, that you miss and curse at the same time.

Life is a fickle game.

As a novice in experiencing life you desire to reach its end, always passionate about everything, having no care and understanding in the world. When you become experienced you realize that each step you made before, each step the souls close to you made, they all have consequences and all eventually lead to struggle and acceptance of the fact that life is not pretty.

Life taunts.

The moment you realize that a joke has been played on you it is already too late. In the end the race is profitable only to a few and Life completely doesn't care who you are and what powers you wield, in this game everyone is equal.

It pains harder when you are faced with defeat.

Many swallow that bitter taste.

Me included.

In life beautiful are only moments and those we cherish when they are gone.

Blessed be the ones that still haven't learned the harsh truth.

The One that believed he had it all

Unimportant

*

I'm a rose that's been raised by wolves, my thorns are getting stuck in everything I know. I've met trouble and I've met rain, laughed with Joy and cried with Pain. Now I see and I believe that the ghosts that haunt me have been out haunted.

I simply want control.

Those that passed away must remain like that, it's harsh to accept it but this is the only way to move forward. Getting killed is not enough for it all to end, I mean, they say that you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.

Never believed that I would welcome Silence ever again.

Thanks.

Anonymous the Second

*

Days have passed, nobody knew how many, the recent events in Warfang twisted reality for each soul in this city that it seemed as time would flow for each citizen differently. People still scrambled on the streets, shambling in houses without purpose as if they would be surviving victims of an earthquake that devoured half of the city.

Bricks and dust littered the streets, followed by the occasional found body, the ruined buildings remaining untouched by the workers, there wasn't a single soul willing to touch the material world when the living were in trouble.

The horror was over, but even though the Corruption lost its grip on reality, people still kept falling, their taxed bodies unable to return to normal pace after being exhausted beyond any reasonable physical limits.

There were many funerals held in Warfang, many graves were dug and even more were still being worked on, some of them becoming even mass ones. Not a single soul dared to say goodbye to their loved ones by separating with them in the temple's Catacombs, for the time being practically no one treated the temple's grounds as holy.

Many of this horrible chores done in total silence, nobody wished to speak about holes in the ground housing many corpses as being more respectful way of parting with the ones you care about.

In this grim, silent moment everyone worked together, bonded in one of the most devastating ways a sentient psyche could manage to handle.

And in the background, somewhere at the back of the head that usually a living creature is oblivious to was stirred a delicate twister, nagging and poking at the nerves like a buzzing mosquito making circles around the ear in the pitch of the night.

A calm before the storm.

It was the unspoken truth of the universe that sociality doesn't accept coincidence and bad luck as explanation for suffering. Masses always demanded blood, always wanted a scapegoat to put the blame on. It was a primal way of venting fury, but a necessary one, heroes are scare, legends and powerful beings of chivalry even less, in the end everyone knew that you can count only on yourself when you expect effects.

A notion especially powerful among masses of same people without a spark of heroism in them.

Nobody could blame the people, in the end everyone deserves justice and those mundane and plain could only call out for it when they unite.

Fairness sadly depends on the perspective.

Some minds though were simply too busy to worry about things like that, in some cases you had to put work first before emotions to get chaos sorted out. This is why the three Guardians, carrying basic band aids and painted in ointments were gathered around a big table in the ruined City Hall, accompanied by many other cheetahs and moles, a big pile of papers spilled over the table, pages floating about and steadily evaluated.

They too were silent, focused on their task, ignoring their wounds, physical and mental alike, Cyril limped on one leg, the crutches he was offered ignored in the corner, frown wrinkled his snout deeply, it was difficult to tell if it was anger or pain twisting it.

Guards, many guards stood around them, their frames obscured by shadows, alert eyes dancing around the room and jumping between the others on guarding duty. Each colorful eye full of mistrust, stabbing with blame the ones surrounding it as much as they stabbed themselves whenever the eyes looked down.

Darkness not only left the dead behind, but also sowed mistrust, as tragic as it may sound, it was easier to get rid of the first thing.

The battered Guardians intensely looked over the logs and papers sprawled before them, even Volteer who usually flips through the pages as quickly as his tongue normally wags when talking now took his time sorting through the data, making sure he remembers everything he reads, making sure he doesn't miss a thing.

One of the books thudded against the table, the hard cover kicking up beads of sweat that gathered on the wood up in the air. Several words shone on the top.

Citizen Ledger C-D

Volteer looked up, trailing the length of the bandaged, draconic, green forepaw, meeting the depressed gaze of his friend.

"Another three" Terrador whispered quietly, his big toes clenching tightly, smacking the black feather he used for writing

Its remains floated towards the floor, dropping down onto a dark pile big enough to remind a pile of ash.

Many broken writing feathers were already piled up at the Guardian's paws, rotting like the buried corpses outside the city.

"So many dead" one of the female moles assisting the dragons shook her head, scrunching up the paper she had in her trembling hands, she lowered the intensity of the light her helmet was giving away as she looked past the table, at the rows of guards, focusing on specific one in the distance.

He so much looked like his brother.

She had to bury him yesterday.

The dragon didn't hear the news yet, or so she thought, she didn't say anything after all. Yet she could see the worry in his eyes, heard or not, he knew, he knew that his sibling had perished, seeing that silent torment was almost comparable to the sight of so many dead.

"Such a tragedy" the other non draconic helpers joined in in supporting the horrible awakening the city had to face

Volteer sighed deeply, head dropping in defeat, he silently and with great respect freed his friend from the burden by taking his notes, scribbling the names into his own ledger.

More people added to the necropolis of names.

"This is wrong" Cyril growled suddenly in irritation, his condition seemed to be the worst from the Guardians, there were barely any bandages or healing ointments on him, some of his wounds were still fresh, especially his snout looked tragic, so many cuts and wounds dotted it, many of which still bled, the Guardian's draconic face was like a back of a whipped prisoner who was abused for so long that the slashes cracked before they could heal.

And as expected he remained true to his reputation, remaining indifferent even to his own pain.

"Indeed it is. What we did do deserve such horror?" one cheetah lamented, hiding his hurt expression behind his hands

"Catastrophe" another disturbed voice joined the chorus

"Some of these names weren't among the dead" the Guardian continued icily, ignoring or simply not noticing the painful lament of his co-workers

The crying people immediately straightened, looking at each other in shame and irritation, feeling stupid and offended at the same time. The strict voice of the Guardian making them reconsider their approach to work while at the same time annoying them, lack of any empathy in these troubled times was more than inappropriate.

Not that Cyril seemed to care.

"Reports before Corruption" Volteer stated calmly, his usually excited tone now slow, almost bored

Cyril nodded.

"We had people gone missing before all this shit happened. Some tinker mole, pair of young cheetahs to name a few"

"Also the accidents and unexpected deaths. The child, the exploding house" Terrador caught up on the train of thought of his friend

"Bad omens?" a mole added, twirling his long claws nervously

"Misdemeanor of unlawful extirpate of perceptive life with wrongful aspiration" the Electric Guardian intoned gloomily,

Some of the people near the table gasped.

Others merely balked, not understanding the spoken words but following the socially accepted reaction to their best abilities.

"Murderer in our city?" Terrador's brow raised in surprise "I know that the times are hard and we cannot exclude anything, but doesn't that sound preposterous? People experienced enough death after the Dark Master and as long as it is not Cynder's corpse on the street I find this idea too far fetched"

"Darkness attacked us, it might have been Shadow weaving our fate obscured from our sight. She wasn't branded with this cursed name for nothing" a cheetah girl chimed in, her idea finding some support at the table, a pair of people started nodding their heads

"No" Terrador's tail thudded against the floor, emphasizing the deep tone of his protest "If Cynder would kill she would do so in masses and not pick up random strangers from the streets, she has no reason to murder again" the dragon's stern gaze ran over every member of the table group "We have pressing matters to attend here, I won't tolerate blind blame at this table"

The faces of the ones supporting and coming up with the claim which already found the culprit darkened over with shame.

"Who else would have a reason to kill a child? To kill an entire family?" a mole shrugged her arms

Cyril swallowed, his expression darkening in deep thought, the visible annoyance and movement of scales irritating the wounds, making them tear up with blood. His mind returned to the conversation with the dragon Capro who laid claims of crime without no evidence supporting them.

Who laid accusations about the dragon Flare.

Who laid prospects of the future.

And he can make sure it is a bright one, those fools are already manipulated by emotions, he might as well direct them where he wants to. This city suffered enough, more sacrifice of the innocent is not worth it.

"I will look into this personally" the Ice Guardian stated confidently, crunching the note he held in a ball before slamming his fist against the table

Volteer cocked his head in surprise.

"You would pursue events proceeding ahead by your own propensity to act at one's own corroboration?"

Cyril snarled.

"You question me now about my motives? I'm trying to do my job here and you interrogate me? What else should I do as a Guardian in your opinion? Ignore the rumors?"

The Electric Guardian shook his head.

"Postulations. You never act on them"

The ice dragon narrowed his eyes on the yellow one.

"Different times. Different measures"

"Enough" Terrador growled, his baritone voice rumbling with dominance

Non draconic at the table wiggled anxiously.

"This is not the time for arguments. People of Warfang expect us to memorize and pay respect to their fallen loved ones, whatever that entails. We proceed with this important task that we have now and then we spread our focus, investigating the rumors of potential murderer are as valid as discovering from where this crystal came from how powerful it really is and especially how it got into the temple without us noticing" the dragon's eyes fixed themselves on the two dragons, jumping between each in a steady rhythm

"Do you agree with me?"

Volteer nodded without hesitation.

"Naturally"

Cyril shrugged nonchalantly.

"Whatever gets you away from my tail"

"Good" Terrador tapped his sharp claw against the thick cover of the pile of books, removing another ledger, this one housing names between E-F

"We pay our respects and until we finish it we hope that others who survived this horror do not have to go similarly depressing backbracker"

*

Scissors clicked.

"There" Amela whispered tenderly, letting out a delicate stream of warm breath at the recently changed bandage

The feline hand she held fell down numbly, returning without life to the crunched on the chair owner as if it was nothing more than a withered branch.

Hunter took a deep, wavering breath, head hanging low and ears flat against the skull.

The healer moved two fingers under the chin, gently propping it up.

"You must keep your head steady Hunter or you will develop serious neck pain"

He obeyed, yet with difficulty, she could feel the depressing weight on her hand as it tried to crumble her support. Her earring jingled anxiously, subtly announcing to the world her internal struggle, she loved this work and loved helping people, but as in any passion there are phases you dislike the most, phases you rather avoid and if that is not possible just skip through them without a serious thought.

Sadly in medicine there were ne shortcuts, at least not when it comes to providing a proper treatment.

Dealing with pain of the soul was the most disliked by her phase.

There are people who had troubled minds from the beginning, they display the same symptoms but in the end their case is something entirely different. When a mind like that found itself in her room she treated that particular example as any other patient, the difference being in the origin of the pain, instead of physical it was mental.

But an illness nevertheless.

The situation was much different and she had to admit that beyond her expertise when it came to patients who for their entire life displayed cheerfulness and joy, only to be turned into a depressing, bulging canisters of decay.

Patients like those were generally healthy if you look upon them from the general point of view. Their bodies bruised but safe and minds intact, but still looking as if they would be standing at Death's doorstep.

Sickness doesn't just appear, it might be tiny but it always has a starting point somewhere, cases like Hunter were beyond such definition. His illness is of soul only and this was this special area of a living creature where she couldn't reach with her scalpel.

Feeling defenseless as a healer was probably one of the worst curses the malicious Fate could come up with.

"Puff your chest out please" she rasped with difficulty, using last amounts of breath her lunges managed to store

It was really difficult continuing with the medical routine of inspection when she knew where the main problem was.

Like always, without emotion, Hunter obeyed, his movements were shaky and uncoordinated as if after each request there would be someone pulling on a string roughly, moving the body part she desired to inspect.

Seeing that she couldn't decide if she wasn't causing more trouble to him with her nagging. This is why she stopped speaking, reaching out towards her neckline she grazed with her claw the sticking out bandage from underneath the shirt's collar.

She sniffed deeply, but there was hardly any smell, the flesh had to absorb the ointment.

Instead of asking she moved her hand down and unbuttoned herself the three first buttons of the shirt. A very invasive and totally unprofessional method, but nevertheless she decided that it would be less problematic for her patient. She couldn't watch him struggling again.

Hunter did not complain when she tenderly stretched out the material of his shirt, revealing up his chest.

The thick bandage there was tinted red slightly at its center.

She reached out and scratched at the corner, tilting a piece up and grabbing it, before she pulled the used bandage off.

The wound glistened with healing grease.

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes, the mixture she applied had two goals to achieve, make the skin more flexible and prevent any infection or burn with the lodged object there. Out of the two she could see for certain that the second objective was reached, there was no more red discoloration around the trinket, clearly stating that the body was no longer fighting with the eaten inside the flesh yin-yang medallion.

She tenderly pressed the treated skin, it bent under her touch, the tortured flesh letting her get a glimpse into the opening right at the edges of the medallion. She poked it but as before it didn't budge and no matter how she tried she couldn't see just how far it had eaten itself into the flesh, it was like the flesh already accepted it as its own, cradling it within a basket of nerves.

It was not natural, she could tell that magic was involved here, body always desires to dislodge foreign objects yet here the flesh seemed to act exactly in the opposite direction, accepting the medallion.

The flexible skin didn't help, she was still as blind as before, unable to get a good look just how serious the operation she planned could be, she had no idea if she would have to go deep, or the wound would be shallow considering the true size of the object.

The involvement of magic here made all those doubts even more hectic.

If she wanted to remove the object there was no other way but to open up the chest and simply improvise, adapt as she progresses further.

And that meant risk.

Something she couldn't commit to without consent from her patient.

"I'm sorry Hunter" she withdrew her piercing sight, wiping her brow "This is not as easy as I predicted, I can't tell you precisely how dangerous the operation might be. Your body acts as if it accepted the medallion, it protects it in a way, limiting my capabilities to judge what measures the operation may involve. I would advise against removing the object, act only if your body will start giving you discomfort, of course if you wish to remove it we may attempt to do so, but I must warn you that the consequences of such an action are unforeseen. Magic has its involvement here and its known for bending the rules"

Hunter stared into the distance, paralyzed, eyes empty.

"Hunter?" she placed a hand on his shoulder

He shook violently as if he would be stabbed, Amela withdrew her hand with a gasp, Hunter's blue eyes scanned the room fervently as if expecting enemies to make a drop at him any time soon.

Eventually he managed to notice the healer, seeing her startled expression he was able to remember what she just said to him, what she said about Hope.

He looked up at his bandaged hand, twirling the fingers that not so long ago glowed like a torch.

In all this misery Hope at least helped, even though she knew what was going to happen and most likely had the power to prevent it.

He wouldn't have to kill so many innocent people then.

"She can stay" he responded roughly, throat dry as if he wouldn't drink for a very long time

"She?"

The male cheetah shook his head.

"It's complicated. I do not wish to speak about it"

"Very well" Amela pulled a bucket filled with warm water with her feet, dragging a second, empty one this time, soon after

Several towels hung from it.

She took one, dipped it into the water and began to delicately wash the revealed wound, cleaning away the medical grease.

"We will change the compound. From now on I will apply a mixture that will help your fur grow back and somewhat lessen the impact of the scorch marks"

She dropped the used towel into the empty bucket before continuing the cleaning with a fresh one.

"You must be aware however that the marks will remain with you for the rest of your life, this deeply blackened flesh cannot be saved, some strands of fur will sprout naturally, but the tuft will be thin, not enough to properly cover the medallion"

Hunter leaned back, giving more room to the healer while he himself exhaled a prolonged sight at the ceiling.

"I do not mind. I carry enough scars, one more doesn't make a difference"

"To the body perhaps not" the healer exchanged the towels once more "What about your soul Hunter?" intelligent eyes glanced up towards the cheetah's face

The cheetah remained silent.

Amela dipped another towel in the bucket.

"I see you won't be throwing it away after all"

He frowned, wrinkles scrunching his nose.

"Throw what away?"

The healer's hands gently pressed against Hope, they gave her a more straightforward poke than earlier, or it might have been just a mistake, the healer's hands might have simply slipped.

"Giving a chance something we never considered worthy can be really enlightening don't you think?"

He couldn't make much sense from the words the healer was speaking, nevertheless his head rose to observe her, he not only felt confused but also strangely intimidated.

Amela wiped the wound clean, the symbolic coin glimmered at her when she uncovered it from underneath the towel. She smiled at the symbolic coin, the sight reminding her just how misguided people are, how blind in their lives, unable to spot the signs of their destiny, only seeing them when they get shoved right into their faces.

It felt good to be right, especially now when she herself was different and now sees that the advice from time long gone was a good one.

A sign of a job well done.

"I'm sorry Amela" Hunter groaned, rubbing his forehead that pulsed with a hollow headache "I fail to comprehend what you are trying to say. There is a lot of on my mind right now"

She began applying the new tincture to the wound.

"There is more tradition in you than you let on. It's symbolic in its own way"

"You sound like my-"

"Hush"

He immediately swallowed his tongue, without thinking, his body reacting on its own.

Instinct.

A taught reflex of obedience.

"Just remember Hunter, no matter where you are right now, Hope will always be with you" her greased fingers made a tender circle around the edges of the special coin that so neatly rested in flesh, almost as if always belonged there

"This time more than ever"

*

Time seemed to stop, not only it seemed as if they would be living in these hospital halls, despite the fact that they were regularly sent away, there was a strange tension hanging in the air between them.

Sparx was hovering in the air, constantly rubbing his hands together, his natural gold glow faint and cautious. Eyes with difficulty trying to remain locked on the doors ahead, each leading to the room where was a dragoness he cared about.

He promised Spyro he will keep watch, his brother was a total mess, looking worse for wear than the old mole cleric, hopefully the time he spends resting will somehow bring some color to his dull scales.

It was for the better, but he kinda wished his brother was here, that dragon next to him was giving him creeps.

"It all ended well" Danox sighed, sitting on his haunches, his black tail tapping a gentle rhythm against the floor "Success alters our manners"

Sparx winced when the black tail made another strike against the floor.

"Can you stop doing that?" he growled, clenching his hands into fists after throwing them up indignantly "People are supposed to rest here!"

"I don't hear any complaints"

"I'm complaining"

Danox grinned, the tail making several quick thumps.

"You're not a patient"

"I'll become one if you won't quit it and I'll scream loud enough for everyone to know why I went nuts!" the dragonfly flexed in irritation, the glow surrounding him pulsing to the rhythm of a bulging vein pumping blood

The tail froze in the air, the black dragon chuckled.

"You should relax my friend. We are victorious, no point in anger when it's time to reap the spoils"

Sparx folded his arms, squinting his eyes on the dragon.

"I'm sure you'd like to reap something for yourself, too bad it's off limits to you"

The black head turned, dark eyes reflecting the image of the dragonfly in them, the yellow glow making the obsidian orbs glisten mysteriously. Danox smiled in amusement.

"Do I smell jealously? Such an unfair assault, but quite pleasing I might add"

The dragonfly snorted.

"More like reality and that is not pleasing at all"

"Do you have an issue with me my friend? We can talk it out" black paw landed on the chest, the amused smile morphed into a smirk "I'm a very social dragon"

"Oh yeah, that I know, you sure like people" he turned his head around, pretending interest in his surroundings "Especially when they serve as punching toys and wall paint for torture chambers" he mumbled quietly, coughing into his fist

Danox laughed.

"What?"

Sparx' eyes widened in fake shock.

"What?"

The dragon coiled his tail around his paws, one leg landing on top and clutching it in a display of childish excitement.

"Is that xenophobia I hear? I wouldn't suspect you to fall under the influence of prejudice"

"Nah, it's just that I don't trust creeps" the dragonfly shrugged "Not my fault they are always black dragons"

Danox' eyes glistened with amusement, the black veins crossing his eyes bulged out.

"Bias. What an irony, does Cynder know about it I wonder?"

Sparx pointed a finger at the dragon.

"If you have to know then..." he grinned "that's none of your business"

Danox chuckled.

"Old wounds easily bleed"

The dragonfly rolled his eyes.

"More boring reciting, nobody likes to listen to it you know?" he clapped his hands suddenly, eyes sparkling "But I know just the place where you could listen to your own voice echo" he narrowed his eyes, the glow surrounding him burned intensely "The cave you crawled out from, home you should be going back to I think, I doubt the guards will tolerate your presence here for long, prejudice you know, very nasty, I wouldn't like to deal with that" he rubbed his chin, wincing

Shaded in purple claws scratched the relaxed black tail, the tip wiggling in gratitude.

"Life is so memorable. I know your history Sparx and I do understand your hostility towards me, I'm the second black dragon you know and the first stole the attention of your brother. You fear that I will steal the attention of the other dragon you care about"

Sparx tapped his forehead.

"You should put down the stories you read, it's fantasy and it's getting to your head"

Pristine white fangs shined on the background of the black mouth.

"You can rest well my friend, I'm not here to steal anything. I'm a fan, a supporter who didn't feel such excitement in a long time. My direct intervention would cause ripples on the image I so value and I already know how that story ends. Repetition is tedious"

He chuckled.

"Besides, I'm taking advantage of the opportunity this events presented to me, it's not often I get to enjoy the life inside these walls. I would like to change that, but since it's an issue for the future right now, I thrive on what I can get. And tell me who would resist such a chance like I have? My friend we are sitting in front of the rooms where two extraordinary females are taken care of, with no one else around, what male could resist such temptation? I like competition, but they are areas where an abundance of it is not needed" he winked

Sparx opened his mouth, ready to snap, but at last second he bit his tongue. He would be damned if he let this creep anywhere near Cynder or Coriza and he would tell that straight into his ugly mug if not for the fact that the dragon was waiting for him to do just that. He was treating this as a joke, something he once was an expert in before this shitshow started, and all the dragon wanted to do was to evolve the bickering fun by provoking him.

This situation might be overwhelming, never before it was so serious, regarding hurt people he cares about that is, but that didn't mean he will simply allow himself to be killed by his own weapon.

That guy was hard to read and maybe it was really unfair to be so assertive towards him, he was only a stranger after all and if you keep getting hit by distrust and mockery on every turn, without being at any fault, only because you appeared here with the wrong colored scales, well then a little bit of provocation and joke, especially those that taunt people can't be so bad.

He knew one dragoness who acted the same way, it worked out well for her.

It was so weird to see Danox being practically identical in that way to Cynder.

"Whatever dude" Sparx waved the dragon off "You do you, whatever floats your boat, I don't care"

The dragon giggled.

"Backing away already? Here I thought we would pass the time on some fun. We both despise boredom, the experience can be insightful"

Steps echoed throughout the hall, the noise getting stronger.

Danox leaned back, stretching his neck, focusing his hearing senses.

Two bipedal creatures were coming their way.

"Chores triumph this day it seems"

Amela accompanied by Hunter stepped into their line of sight. Sparx' aura immediately burst with a brighter light at the sight of the healer, not only she will take care of his friends, but she also served as a motivational beacon of sorts. They had been through the same corruptive phase, yet she was the one who took the beating and despite her age, she pulled herself together, acting like nothing happened.

It looked like determination to help others was more stronger than any physical pain the cheetah went through.

Good for her, it's better she focuses on work while he will worry about the image of a possessed family member with two dark eyes that was in the middle of it all.

He simply knew that her state was all because of that creature, its evil touch had to make a dent somewhere and now she was lying unconscious in the hospital.

What have you gotten yourself into Cynder?

The healer smiled broadly.

"I'm very pleased that you follow the regulations and didn't try to interrupt the patients as you promised me. I know you would like to see them, but they need their peace of mind, too many voices and ideas might only increase the confusion further"

"You can count on me to follow the rules!" Sparx announced proudly "I'm like tour favorite, obedient kid in school!"

"So I've heard, you also are the one who likes to butter his way into the good grace of anyone as long as you get what you want" she winked "Useful trait"

"Hey now!" he folded his arms "Does Cynder mumble through her sleep?"

Amela giggled, tapping at her earing that started to sway slightly.

"I listen, in a hospital it is very important, you might learn interesting things that might prevent you from making mistakes for example" she flashed a smile at the dragonfly "I'm sure Spyro mentioned the importance of listening when you two spoke earlier this day"

Sparx scratched the back of his head.

"Something like that"

The healer was right, Spyro did forbid him from trying to enter the room without Amela's consent, telling him that she can be cruelly vengeful if you disobey that one rule. He had no idea what he meant by that, but Spyro looked really embarrassed when speaking about it and that was enough proof for him that he wasn't making this up. Whenever Spyro's cheeks turned red it always meant that it was better not to mess it up again.

And he screwed up without his help.

Spyro was growing.

He was so proud of him.

"Hunter my favorite scout" Danox smiled at the somewhat grumpy cheetah who seemed to age under all this stress he went through "You look surprisingly fresh"

The cheetah greeted the black dragon emotionlessly.

"Good humor didn't abandon you Danox I see"

"All thanks to you my furry friend!" he extended his paw towards the cheetah in the most common of gestures "Your stunt was remarkable"

Stunt?

Hunter hesitated for a second, ears pulling the scalp back, was Danox referring to Hope? How would he knew, he didn't tell anyone about it and he really doubted that the Guardians spoke about it, neither would Cloudas, just like the rest of the people he was dragged into the hospital despite the Guardian's first intention to keep him locked safely in the City Hall, away from people as to spare them more shocking emotions.

Amela however had none of it and immediately dragged the wind dragon back into the hospital, promising to be discreet if he's state will allow it, not surprised at all to see the dragon's special physicality, obviously the healer had seen wind dragons in her life already.

All things considered, Danox couldn't know, the Guardians saved the revelations for later, they haven't spoke about it to their own citizens, they for certain wouldn't inform a black, mysterious dragon about it. And Cloudas even if he wanted to tell anyone he simply had no time or anyone near to listen, being dragged around and locked away like some precious treasure, he had other things to worry about than spilling out stories about magical cats.

There was no way Danox could learn about Hope from anyone, the only explanation would be that he knew about her from the start, but then why he wouldn't mention it if her power was the one that struck a blow against Darkness, the same Darkness the dragon fought with?

Danox was nothing more than a walking maze of confusion and he was pretty certain that the drake was aware of that. As a dragon from the future he might have suspicions, guesses, or even held back facts about the events, whatever the case may be with Hope, one thing was certain.

Danox is using this situation for his own amusement, toying with people like he always did.

He reached out for the dragon's paw, it might have been unfair and perhaps even wrong to play on emotions like that, but he didn't feel offended. Danox was a black dragon after all, each colors carries a characteristic trait, malice, even the soft kind, simply ran in his blood.

He squeezed the black paw gently, avoiding irritating his bandaged hand.

"We all played a part, everyone deserves praise, I couldn't do it alone"

The drake's smile turned predatory.

"Modesty is simply arrogance in stealth"

Hunter nodded politely, releasing his hold on the paw, however the draconic hand remained locked still.

"You can smell triumph, and it that fragrance is a touch of rich, dominating effort, impossible to miss for someone with a sensitive nose"

Danox leaned forward, taking a sniff of his wounded hand, his inhaling nostrils pulling on the bandage.

He felt a small burn on his chest, the symbol sparked faintly.

Black orbs rose to meet his ocean eyes, he could see his glowing figure in them, at least in the left one.

In the right was a beautiful, young cheetah girl, looking around, startled. The sapphires in her tiara glowed.

Hope.

He could again smell the scent of young, cared for fur in the air.

"And you my friend smell absolutely spectacular"

Danox let go of the hand, the arm jerked back so roughly that Hunter almost slapped himself in the head, he yelped faintly at the unexpected occurrence. Unaware completely of the desperation in his muscles which so badly wanted to get away from the dragon for some reason.

Amela buried her eyes into the dragon, throughout her many years on this earth she had seen many people, off all kinds, neither surprised or shocked her, especially not after working as a healer for so many years. Wounds and injuries, both mental and physical have a tendency to expose even the deepest, hidden secrets.

All this knowledge helped her to reason with people, all of them had something she had already seen somewhere, while each soul was an individual, there were traces of traits that allowed her to reach out to them.

She was always certain about it.

She had the same feeling with Danox, he also had characteristic personality traits she recognized as familiar, the difference with him however was that she wasn't sure if her guess was correct.

Or differently.

She had doubts it was enough.

There was something more to this dragon than meets the eye, he had potential, but for what she couldn't say and this was the first time it happened. She recognized chiefs when they were just youngsters, she recognized leaders and extraordinary soldiers when they were as high as a bush.

She couldn't see anything in the black dragon.

As if he would chew up all that potential and cast it out as worthless.

It could be unnerving and she doubted she was the only one feeling such uneasiness around him, she would probably cast it aside, prejudice showed her that it wasn't the best counselor when it came to life choices.

What she couldn't ignore was the fact that the dragon wasn't wounded while fighting the same dreadful battle.

As a healer who saw life slipping by fingers and life being returned to the body with a breath of relief, she had troubles considering a creature trustworthy if it cannot bleed.

"Go find a room you two, ugh!" Sparx groaned, just to suddenly clap his hands "Or better, let's find you a room Danox" he began to look around, finger tapping at the chin as he flew along the hall, examining the doors on the way "I'm pretty sure I've seen one without handles here..."

Danox laughed.

"Mischievous creativity is glorious! There's freedom in courage"

Hunter cocked his head, scratching one of his ears.

"You seem distinctly cheerful my friend"

"Yes!" the drake announced triumphantly, clapping his forepaws together, his tail making a happy bounce "Life is a tedious, boring, repetitive annoyance, but now I discovered a slayer of boredom my furry friend! Mystery! Some proclaimed it to be a curse, I proclaimed it to be a blessing. Who is right here?" he scratched his throat, each swipe of claws against the neck stretched out the dreamy smile that appeared on his face a little further "I do not know. I truly don't. And it's fantastic" he inhaled deeply as if taking the scent of a paradise island into his lungs

"Yeah, nuts for sure" Sparx grumbled

Amela decided to not interfere, leaving the boys to their own struggle she entered Cynder's room, the moment the door closed behind her she heard the chatter from the corridor ending, sliced abruptly by the clicking hinges. Whatever the boys were talking about was rendered unimportant in the face of the news she can bring about the health of this particular patient.

For better or worse, everyone was interested in the fate of these two dragonesses.

She approached the bed where Cynder was lying, she was covered in sheets and bandaged where the wounds still bled. The rest was oiled with medical ointments, she didn't dare to apply gems without truly knowing what is going on with her.

In truth this was just an excuse, she preferred to treat patients with traditional medicine and as long as the situation isn't dire, avoid gems at all costs, even though she doubted there is a situation where the gems can be harmful, for the ones that accept them that is.

Nevertheless she was against putting lives in the hands of only one ingredient, there was enough magic in this world, making people rely on it would make them addicted to it and they would no longer see other aspects of the world as valuable anymore.

She won't allow society to be locked in a wild goose chase after only one resource, this is a reason for conflict, of any kind.

To support her approach she had patients like Cynder who seemed to be resting peacefully, healing without a touch of external magic. Healing by the mixture of nature's medicine and her own draconic regeneration, as natural as it can be.

And she needed that the most since her state is far away from normal.

Cynder was shocked, as if she would be a cheetah with very sensitive ears playing with a toy that suddenly exploded, the blast so unexpected and loud that it paralyzed your entire body, putting you in a state of shock.

She didn't carry any wounds that would trigger such an reaction, neither there were any big explosions anywhere in the city that she knew of. Her condition was a consequence of pure magical influence and from the information she gathered from Sparx and Spyro she made an assumption that it wasn't a very healthy one.

There is nothing more here she can do for her daughter, her condition was stable and she was still sleeping. When she wakes up though they will need to talk, your body is your own and there is no argument in the entire world valid enough that would convince anyone that you should share it.

She placed her hand on the black cheek, smiling warmly as she pet it with her thumb tenderly. She triggered some soft squeaks from her daughter's throat.

Rest well Sweetheart.

"And? And? What's up with her?" the door didn't even close behind her and Amela was already attacked by Sparx' questions, his glowing shape dashing all around her

"No change. Some wounds healed, Cynder is recovering, we must wait still" she closed the door

"How long?" the dragonfly tugged at her clothes from several different places

"I don't know" she wiped her hands along the coat, straightening the outfit after the molesting

"You gotta now doc if she's going to be alright or not!"

Amela took a deep breath, she hated interrogations like this, not because people were pestering her, that was understandable when someone you care about lies in a hospital bed. She hated interrogations like this because sometimes they occurred when she had no answers and it was as annoying to her as it was to the family.

"She is stable and resting. All she needs is time now" she responded with a generic answer, her voice as automated as the spoken out sentence

"Now excuse me, I must check on my other patient" without waiting for more disliked answers she rushed into the second room, running away from the part she was scared of in medicine the most.

Uncertainty.

She entered the second room, leaning against the door frame as it closed and exhaling in relief. The atmosphere of this interior was refreshing and from a medical point of view more welcoming.

Even though the patient here looked more depressed than the ones in pain when their wounds are being sewed up.

Coriza was looking into a mirror, her whole body leaning forward, back sunken, even though no visible injuries covered her body she looked weak and fatigued. One forepaw was scrunched over the wall next to the tall mirror, the entire leg shaking as it struggled to maintain support, with difficulty trying to keep the upper body aloft.

The other paw was busy poking and touching the wounded eye, the eye patch she told to wear the dragoness lied on the floor, a small taint of blood still visible on it. The dragoness was leaning so much forward that her forehead was touching the glass making her nose hang down while at the same time splaying her mane apart.

Mane that seemed to not feel the touch of a comb for a while now.

The dragoness was so engrossed in her depressing examination that she didn't seem to hear the door opening.

"Scarred eye is not the end of your life darling" Amela said warmly while she approached the dragoness, running a finger over her ancient wound across the eyeball "It's just a change of perspective, takes some time to get adapt to that's all"

Coriza remained unresponsive, she recorded every word, yet was simply too focused on the battle of stares with her reflection. The world was a mess of colors, like she would be looking at it through erupting gases, so unstable and volatile. Her hurt eye distorted the image while the healthy one tried to put it back together, in the end neither achieving its true goal, making the surrounding world spring constantly between two images.

The only thing intact completely was herself and now the old cheetah that appeared in the reflection.

For someone who could barely walk straight with two healthy eyes without tripping over her own tail this was like a curse.

"I am damned" the dragoness mumbled, her voice rough, usually melodic voice frizzling like an out of tune musical instrument

Amela stopped behind the dragoness, confidently looking into her devastated reflection, arms folded under the breasts.

"You are not. You survived, that alone makes you blessed, many didn't have such privilege. Besides, it was your paws that ended the evil"

"It wasn't surprised" a sad breath left the cleric's throat

Amela cocked her head.

"Excuse me?"

The cheetah noticed the differently colored eyes rising in the reflection to look at her. Her hands clenched around the shoulders tightly when she met their stare, the priestess had already a very addictive gaze, the two warm sun like eyes were simply blazing with good, supportive energy, that just made you feel safe around her.

The energy was still there, in that one single gold eye, the other though, the wool one, it seemed to pierce right through you. Enthralling you, you simply couldn't look away, the cracking yellow light at the corners was like looking into a miniature cosmos with blazing stars. The stare of the beige eye was not invasive, you didn't feel uncomfortable even though you felt chained, it was like the eye was a judge, patiently observing until it comes out with a verdict.

What it was looking for?

"Darkness" Coriza continued gloomily, her hoarse voice making her sound as if her throat was full of sand "It knew I would come. It knew that it was the end"

"Didn't Danox help you as you said? That's why the Guardians granted him the privilege to remain in the city for a while"

"Maybe Danox was the last straw that made up its mind, but I was still needed to end it and Darkness knew it"

"What does that change darling? If there would be only one sword in the world and you would be vulnerable to its pointy tip, it makes it quite obvious that if someone comes wielding it you might likely die"

The eyes returned to stare at each other once more.

"Taint does not concede"

Amela bit her lip.

This was an argument she couldn't really fight with, as a creature of faith Coriza knew more about Darkness than she did and her words of doom might be accurate. However every creature works according to the laws of Nature, whether they like it or not, prey doesn't blame the predator for vanquishing it, it might however blame the one who allowed the predator to find it in the first place as long as it was not its own mistake.

"Perhaps but it doesn't make you the target" the hands landed on hips, increasing the healer's reign of authority "You were called Holllowborn by it, whatever that means we don't know, from what I understood it couldn't influence you in the way it did us. You showing up with intention to destroy it its only natural, it might wound you out of spite, but if Taint doesn't concede then would it truly go after its nemesis or simply go after targets it can actually reach? To topple a tower darling, you don't need to break its walls, you might as well dig deep enough hole under it"

Coriza's eyes widened, she did not consider such an approach, perhaps too much influenced by Brill's ranting about the Good vs Evil fight. Darkness might as well take the other way around to get to her as Amela mentioned, it might however also triumph by hindering anyone trying to get to his desired level of power.

By the Ancestors, cold thinking is truly a blessing. Ancestors be thanked that there is still someone who uses logic and not gives to emotions, especially when there is still so many question marks present and the path to resolving them might become even darker than it already is if you allow your own mind to make it so.

"I have not thought about it that way" the priestess admitted in shame

Amela nodded with a smile.

"I'm glad to help, speaking of which" she clapped her hands together "Enough of this gloom speculations. We are in a hospital here, here we stand with both our feet on the ground, or all four in dragon's case. Here you are healthy or not, simple rules, if the second gets you we make sure to whack it in the head" she lowered on her legs, getting to the dragoness height level "So give that leg of yours a break darling and turn around so I may get a look at that cute eye of yours"

Coriza gave her reflection another intent look, she didn't know what she was looking for precisely, perhaps hoping that the reflection will walk away, vanish and stop taunting her, letting her typical reflection back, the one with two yellow eyes.

Nothing like that happened.

She was that reflection now and there is no other way but to accept it.

After all she should be prepared for such an outcome, she was the one who voiced doubts about life returning to normality after this event.

With a deep sigh she pushed out from the wall, the taxed leg collapsing after it touched the floor, making her tilt forward and smack her head against the wall.

"Careful!" Amela sprung forward with a yelp of worry

Coriza pulled herself back together quickly, in all this horror there was at least one thing that didn't change and it didn't look like it's going to in the nearby future.

It made her giggle.

"It's only clumsiness. My life partner" the dragoness turned around as the healer requested

The cheetah slowed down, her alert with worry eyes kept looking at the girl, hands spread, muscles ready to act if the situation will require it.

"You must take care of yourself now darling, even more than now, you need time to get used to your new perception" she lowered herself down again, leaning forward to get a good look of the priestess eyes

There was absolutely nothing wrong with the gold one, it survived the battle completely unscathed, it was even more beguiling from up close than it was from a distance. Her attention was drawn to the other eye however, first was the wound that still slightly bled, there were no drops falling yet the cut was still freshly red. Usually dragons regenerate such a trifle very quickly but Coriza was a special case, not only her connection to magic was crippled, making it hard to put any estimates on healing, the wound she received was from a source alien to the entire world.

It was still a wound though and as all it will heal in time, at least it will stop bleeding, judging from the cut and considering every aspect that led to it she doubted that scales will ever cover it again.

"The wound over your eyeball is healing" she reached out, moving away the locks of hair to get a better view and to find solid evidence for her diagnosis "Albeit slowly, yet the bleeding stopped, so that's progress. Given time the cut will dry and blend with the flesh, still considering that the injury is of unnatural origins I would still advise wearing an eye patch. It will hell you also with perceiving the world with one eye only. I'm afraid darling that the wound is there to stay, you will have a scar for life"

The diagnosis clearly depressed the dragoness, her whole body hunched down as if tremendous weight was put on her back.

"Eye patches and scars don't make clerics trustworthy Amela. We must serve as an example and not parade with a cut made by Taint" The dragoness looked at the cleric pleadingly "There has to be something you can do, I must continue with my work, please"

The cheetah petted the girls head, running her fingers across the hair.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do" she withdrew her hand, yet managed to free it only after the second pull, fingers got intertwined with the locks

Locks which she accidently tugged, making some fall over the scarred eye.

Coriza dropped her head in defeat.

"I'm truly cursed"

Amela's ears flattened on her skull, she glanced at the healthy, tempting eye and then at the strands of hair creating a veil over the wounded one. With a bit of a delicate touch of someone who knows anything about physical appeal the cleric could become an irresistible, charming mystery.

And what better way to attract people to hear your beliefs than becoming as enticing as faith itself.

"That doesn't mean that somebody else can't help you" the cheetah smiled as she noticed the cleric's head rising

"What do you mean?" the whisper coming out from the draconic throat was full of hope

"The wound cannot be healed completely, but who said that your special eye must be a curse? Being a cleric is also partially about charm is it not? You just need to make people listen to you and be curious and what else makes people interested in somebody if not a touch of mystery?"

The cheetah reached out towards the locks, removing the hair pin and gently tugging more of the hair to cover the eye while swapping the rest to keep them completely away from the healthy one.

"Do you perhaps met anyone who knows a little about haircuts and cosmetics?" she smiled, the rumors about the cleric having a weakness towards that specific field were known to all despite the fact how hard Coriza tried to hide it

She grabbed the shoulders and made the dragoness to turn, facing the mirror once more.

Coriza gasped faintly when she looked into her reflection, it was like she would be staring at another creature completely. For a moment there the worries faded away and she looked into the eye of a regal creature, confident in her modesty and so enticingly mystifying as the faith itself.

Her beige eyes was covered by hair yet from underneath the stands strands a tender blazing could be seen, a small electrical discharge dancing around, it was her natural yellow color wrestling with the new one.

The delicate fireworks heavenly magical.

Amela grinned at the sight of the cheerful glow radiating from the wide eyes of the cleric.

"See any potential there?"

"It can work" the cleric mumbled amazed "Make the hair rest on the eye, maybe split it a little to uncover the crackling light a bit more, not much though, the eye must stay obscured. Oh and the scar!" she bounced excitedly, throwing off Amela's hands and making her jump back with a chuckle

Something she did not even notice, completely engrossed in her cosmetic passion.

"The scar can't be seen, it will take some trial and error" claws began to fiddle with the locks, trying to make the uneven hair at least partially remind "But it's possible!" the tail made a swing, pushing Amela even farther back

The cheetah couldn't stop chuckling.

"Another hair pin? Maybe something else to keep the hair apart?" she gasped "What about a gel? I can experiment, maybe even dye more hair blue so the locks look like a waterfall? Or more gold?" the pupils shifted to the healthy eye, it was sparkling with energetic glow

"Everyone complimented my eyes" she whispered, a shade of embarrassment filled her cheeks "Now you have to make it up for two poor thing. Should I put eye shade?" she bit her lip, the cheeks flushed deeper red "Emphasize the color, make it more vivid? Not too provocative I hope? Will I be able to use makeup openly? Isn't it too much?"

She turned around, she was sweating with excitement.

"Isn't it too much Amela?"

There was no response, only warm chuckling, when she looked at the cheetah and finally noticed the amused and satisfied expression on the healer's snout all the excitement evaporated, making her entire snout turn red when humiliation took over.

"Ancestor's Grace! I'm sorry" she shook her head frantically "This was so inappropriate! So inappropriate! I'm sorry, so very sorry!" she started to walk quickly towards the exit, head tilted to the side, avoiding any eye contact "I need... I... go... Have a nice day!"

"Darling" the cheetah snatched her tail, making her balk with a squeal

"It was perfect"

The motherly whisper relaxed her muscles in an instant, before she could gather up her thoughts her head turned automatically towards the healer.

"You really think so? What will people think?"

"I don't think they matter. Part of recovery comes from here" she knocked at her heart "I don't have to explain how important that little thing is do I? If this desire is what makes your heart rush then you pursue that desire. No protests, doctor's orders darling, I will be controlling you to see if you are following the prescription" she winked

Coriza smiled widely, revealing her uneven teeth to the world and having absolutely no second thoughts about it.

"Thank you"

"It is my pleasure" Amela bowed "The city needs healing after this unfortunate event, but no amount of medicine will help if we won't start the recovery from ourselves" she rested both her hands on her hear "This is everything and let's hope that everyone finds enough strength to heal themselves"

"After all the method to recovery lies within a very simple secret"

One of her hand rose to the collar of her coat and clenched into a fist, as if it wanted to grab something there.

"Don't be pushed around by the fears in your mind. Be led by the dreams in your heart"