FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 31

They were led into another long, narrow corridor, again many reddish windows popped open at their sides, noses sticking out to examine the group, guards following the same silent vigil like the last ones.

Spyro observed his surroundings carefully, all hope for things going smoothly already flushed down the drain. He was looking for a weak spot in this structure, there had to be one, after all Cellsa and Orbis had to leave the city somehow, undetected no less, nobody is called a deserter by admitting he had enough in front of his fervently militaristic companions.

There had to be a way out of here somewhere.

They had a job to do here and each time someone was stopping them and it was already getting out of paw. First the Moonborne put a knife to his friends necks and now his own kin does to.

He didn't have any more patience for this. These dragons, these canines, whatever else is in this world are echoes, wraiths of the past. He wanted to do one good deed, that's all and instead they got near death experiences and torment in return.

His blood was boiling.

But he was sensible enough to realize that all these ghosts were simply living their own lives, by their own rules and they are the ones here breaking them. Making them the target of his wrath was a weak attempt of putting blame where it doesn't belong.

The echoes did nothing wrong.

The group that followed him was paying the price for his own decision.

If he only had the guts to say no to the calling of his idiotic heart, none of this would have happened. Sparx warned him many times that trying to help everyone is impossible, Cynder got bullied many times over that at least once it should make him hesitate when helping another random stranger. One would believe that Iris would be the easiest one to be discarded, after all she hardly did anything good towards him, let alone his friends and especially mate.

Everyone else would ditch her already.

Guess what Spyro did oh sweet world?

You guessed right.

And now they are paying the price for it.

One of Terrador's lessons spoke about the reluctance to spread happiness, not prioritize it over survival, he didn't learn that lesson.

Not even towards the girl that most of the times would gladly choke him without batting an eyelid, something that might actually still happen when this will be all over and Iris gets what she wants.

Because there was no fooling yourself here, with all that already happened and will happen when he will have more time to sit on his new powers, there will come a time when a high price will be paid for his reckless selflessness that no amount of healing magic will be able to repair.

The question was if he will heed the warning signals before that happens.

He growled into the handle of the cage his brother was kept in.

Thoughts about the prophecy once more circled inside his head, struggling with cold sense that hummed within currently. It would be nice to have a prophecy out there saying something about him not causing pain to his friends as he tries to fulfill the one written about him.

Good supposed to be repaid somehow.

Ancestors be damned.

If he only had a stronger heart.

"Arteries" his mouth moved on its own, producing a word that suddenly exploded in his mind

The corridors were like veins. Skyward was built like a living body.

Each dome they entered an organ, while they visited only two rooms for now he was certain that all of them had a similar path leading to them like the one they are moving through now. Long, thick arteries with cells and tissue within. Spyro didn't know why a comparison like that assaulted his thoughts right now, perhaps it was there only to serve as a distraction from the more destructive thoughts, a desperate cling to a life saving straw.

And when he looked at the back of his left leg, leg through which spread more of the black scale, he wasn't so eager to discard that notion. Still, architectural wise, Skyward wasn't meant to be a place where one would enjoy living. It's chirurgical city plan was too much of a precise investment to be a coincidence, the domes from which the city was made was connected by arteries, which he believed to be an important detail.

As a seasoned warrior he would even say that there was nothing more important than that.

Veins can be cut.

Easily killing whoever was still locked in the organ connected by the said sliced artery.

How the dragons, and judging from the scales he saw among the training males before, of all known elements, could stand being locked inside a cell of one, massive prison was something he would never understand. Both their magic and their wings demanded them to see open air.

Skyward was a place where freedom was as alien as they were.

He would like to believe that Iris' mother was the one actually rising to power to change all of this, however when considering the Moonborne's theories she might be actually the one supporting all of this.

It might be their way of controlling their population, this way you could easily know where a purple dragon hatched, this was a perfect way how to make the kill swift if a thing like that happened, essentially wiping from existence the one who you feared the most and everyone else who knew about its existence.

It all sounded harsh and brutal, something that he didn't gather from Iris' almost psychotic desire to locate her mom. She hinted enough times that her life was far from enjoyable, she wouldn't be so eager to return to someone who gave her the same treatment, logically speaking Athron should be the solar opposite of Skyward and his ideas about it.

But considering the siblings' way of life and how they spoke about their reality, war and callousness were nothing odd in this world, and when this is the case than what's the better way of silencing your enemy than preventing him from breathing?

The sudden noise of grinding gears and cracking stone wiped Spyro's morbid thoughts away, instead of eyes, usually the first thing that reacts when entering an unfamiliar room, it was his nose that took the lead, nostrils flaring wide to take in the new scent.

Eyes remaining indifferent, the light palette of this place was the same as the gallery behind them and if they ever get to see more of Skyward he doubted that the depressing tones will ever change.

The scent here was more stale, far more pleasant than the thick, sweaty one from before. In fact he could say that it almost smelled normal here, it was the standard aroma of boredom and slow life, of comfort. Whoever was living here seemed to enjoy his stay very much.

And judging from the way how air felt light here, to the point that he believed he caught the shy musky smell of the mushrooms, he could say that this particular place wasn't occupied by many dragons, and if there was any traveling going through here it was brief and cut short.

This surely can't be the Pits.

The organ opened into a modest dome, it was a rounded structure with several bumps on the walls from which the reddish mushrooms sprouted. The place was surrounded by cabinets, made of the same smooth rock like the walls of Skyward were, the reddish, transparent glass dotted its front behind which lied all kinds of objects.

From the inside it all looked like they would be within a closed fist.

Jewelry, all sorts of small weaponry from which they could only name a dagger, tools and many other bags, all unsigned, hiding their contents besides that one bag from which a white feather was sticking out.

That view made Spyro think that these cabinets weren't there mainly to store confiscated goods, but they were there to display trophies.

He doubted that there existed a wind dragon who would part willingly with so many of his feathers.

There was one would call a desk at both sides, long slabs of rock that shined at the edges, clearly indicating that the same glass structure was present on the inside of the desks.

Only one of them was occupied.

So to speak.

There was a dragon lying at one of them, snoring loudly, clearly sleeping. The sound of his rough voice clearly stating that he was one of the oldest dragons here, even though his red wings didn't spot any holes in them yet. Speaking of red body, lying was probably too fancy of a word to call the position the dragon fell asleep in.

He was all over the place.

He seemed to be impossibly long, his silhouette thin, head was propped high up against the wall, snout squeezed in between the bumps on the walls, sideways, as if he would be sticking it into a frame to get his profile painted. The straight position of his neck caused his long body to twist in every possible angle, making parts of it stretch out to fit against the many bumps. Eventually the rest of his body moved away from the wall, lying flat on the ground until by the end his rump rose again to prop itself against his threw backwards wings until finally the end of his long body dropped on his object that serves for a desk in this place. His paws were also all around the place, bending in unnatural angles as they stretched out to reach their resting positions. His forelegs were pressed against the wall, twirling over the bumps like a flexible gum, crossing and uncrossing in such ways that it seemed like each piece of his forelegs had an independent set of bones. His hind legs were kicked on top of the desk, under an angle that would irritate the already twisted spine even further, they were crossed on top of each other with the tail tip sticking right through the middle, tip that ended with a burning, ball of flame. Burning ears like fins of a massive fish sprouted from his head, way bigger than his head was, his body had splotches like a cheetah, yet instead of having merely discolored marks, the dragon's dots were burning brightly.

Spyro wouldn't pay much attention to any dragon around here, but this particular fellow caught his focus for the sole fact that he didn't fit into his already created vision of Warfang. Ruthless and merciless, a place where when you don't keep up your weight and follow orders obediently you get kicked out from very quickly.

And yet the sleeping drake was there and it seemed as if he was quite comfortable with his position he was rather comical when comparing to males they passed on their way here and yet Skyward keeps him around.

When taken into the general aspect of things the dragon will be unimportant to their group as a whole and most likely will pay no or a minimal role in their mission. The sight of him though left a palpable mark on the purple dragon however. Spyro who was angry and saw the surrounding reality in dim, black colors noticed a silver lining in the presence of this drake.

It was stupid most likely to put any weight into this meeting, but nevertheless Spyro felt somewhat relieved. Seeing some manner of basic civility in Skyward, a pit of callousness, sparked a manner of determination he didn't feel for a while now.

That even in the darkest of places there was light.

And if there will be dire consequences of the decisions he will make then perhaps there was nothing left to do but to accept them? Seeing good in the ugly was somewhat his style.

And there is no way of changing that.

Not when he allows it himself to change.

Spyro felt a crunch in his neck, he popped the irritated squeeze away with one jerk of the head, his eyes were dragged towards his outreaching left, front leg and they lingered there for more than a while.

The tapestry of black on the back of the leg seemed to be more fainter, to the point where purple started to break through.

"Bones! Rise and shine!" one of their captors yelled out, the rest of the dragons laughed faintly in the wake of the order

The noodle dragon snorted loudly, his eyes popping open, from his parted mouth, as well as the burning body parts burst live flames, before the dragon unglued himself from the wall. His numb muscles making him drop flat behind the desk, his elongated body reaching past the stony furniture.

"One of these days you're going to break your neck my friend" the captor chirped, the chuckling infected the rest of the dominant group

"I'll be alright!" the red drake popped up from behind the desk, stretching out straight

This pose only confirmed his extremely sleek and long body shape, if not for the wings one would easily take him for a mutated centipede and the way he swayed like he would be some full blown balloon.

The dragon snatched a pair of glasses swiftly from the drawer behind the desk, he put them on almost respectfully, not even kings put their crowns with such grace.

Amidst the roughness of this place the dragon was a beacon of friendly acceptance which considering the idea that Skyward is a huge proving ground the sensation might be as deadly as the claws of the city's inhabitants.

It was easy to forget in the presence of the docile drake that you were brought to the place considered to be a prison among the populace.

The noodle drake's sight eventually turned towards the group, the moment it fixed on them the dragon titled his head to the side in a slap of immense shock. His head fell lower than any bone located in a typical dragon's neck would allow to. Only when his eyes were hiding behind the desk the dragon managed to lift it back up, with a jerk so strong that it kicked off the glasses from his nose as he reached forward with the speed of a snapping snake.

"What did you just brought me?"

"Cellsa" before anyone could respond the lively dragon spotted the only familiar scales amongst the prisoners "I see our troublemaker is going places"

"It is vital that they wait for the Wardens, do you understand Bones?"

"Yes" the noodle drake waved his paw dismissively

"I mean it. This group needs to be taken under examination, even the wind chick, from what we gathered she was hanging out with that black one. Don't start your poking until you get the order, understand?"

"Of course" the long dragon snapped restlessly, his body flailing on top of the desk, reaching out in every possible direction, just to get a better glimpse at the recent arrivals, the passion he was projecting rivaled only that of artist as he was creating his masterpiece

"Bones, this is serious"

"Bring them to the trapdoor" the drake practically climbed on top of the desk, he reached out with his neck, head hanging above the ground, at Spyro's head level

"Weirdo" the leading guard sighed, giving the harnesses a solid tug

The trapdoor the fiery dragon was speaking about was located at the end of the room, a small, square dead end was carved into the wall, being the deepest point in the entire room. In shape it resembled the death corridors they were being led through previously, being deeper meant being surrounded by walls from all sides, the only was that there were no door.

At least not a vertical one.

"Get in" their guards commanded, stopping right before the square spot

Those od them that couldn't walk were pushed onto the platform.

And as they moved Bones stretched out a little farther, first were the ones that couldn't walk, his attention completely ignored Cellsa, he only threw the dragoness a brief glance, his fiery ears twitching in irritation, merely recognizing her presence and being somewhat annoyed by it.

His expression changed, followed by brighter pulses of his burning splotches when he reached towards Iris, his paws immediately touched the girl, giving her plump hip an offensive squeeze while the other paw dove into her feathery wings, cupping up the feathers as if they were pillows before sliding all over the shoulders and neck. His head hung near her masked face, sniffing and peering through the holes of it to see her closed eyes.

"Enchanted" the dragon's throat purred enthusiastically, releasing Iris from his forceful examination, throwing the girl one last glance before she was pushed onto the trapdoor

He sighed deeply, almost as if he longed for her already, however the expression was gone the moment the rest of the batch came into close vicinity, his centipede like body hung bent in the air, reaching out from an invisible leaf, toes of claws twitching excitedly like that of a warming up surgeon.

The moment she was close enough he immediately reached towards the limping Cynder who still had her head hanging low, yet despite the fact that she was she could still rise it when she wanted to. Something she decided against seeing how tactless the weird dragon was towards Iris and she didn't want to look the creep in the eyes when he will be undoubtedly groping her.

And the dragon fulfilled all of her expectations.

His hungry paws landed on her back, making her twitch in disgust from there they raked down her flanks and under the belly, reaching for every slice of scale. From there one moved towards the neck while the other towards the waist. Cynder gripped her teeth, making blood flow freely from her cracked lips when the dragon's offensive paws circled around her shoulders and thighs, grazing over her like she would be his personal prize to enjoy.

His head eventually sprang near her own, while his paws reached to the wings and rump his nose was making circles around her draconic face, unfazed by the blood itching his nostrils. It moved all around her snout until finally the dragon made a twirl and dove his head below her own. Cynder shut her eyes tightly, the frowns wrinkling her forehead were almost painful, feeling his restless gaze burning holes into her from below, he could feel him staring right into her closed eyes.

"Perplexed" the dragon purred, pulling away from her, before he pulled his tongue out giving Cynder a deep lick across her bleeding face, scooping up the blood.

She whined quietly, feeling absolutely dirty.

A low, threatening growl came from the side, making even the guarding dragons hack on their breaths in surprise.

The red dragon straightened up curiously, locating the source instantly, it was the purple dragon holding the cage, his amethyst eyes were glaring at him coldly. The elongated dragon shifted his gaze onto Cynder again, if he made any connection between the growl and his examination his eyes did not show it when they rose back again.

He immediately stretched towards Spyro, who's eyes were following the dragon constantly, a vicious snarl was practically carved into Spyro's expression, as if it was engraved onto the handle, a part of its embroidery.

The red dragon kept staring directly into the challenging stare of the purple drake while his paws began their exploring, here both of his legs worked on the same part of the body, gripping scale right next to each other, or groping the muscles as if wanting to wring the blood out of them. Paws gripped his thighs fiercely, then his shoulders, filling their palms with the bulging muscle before jumping to the fins and the belly, alternating between touching the gold and purple scale.

Spyro remained still doing the whole ordeal, staring callously into the red dragon's eyes.

Eventually their captor's paws found their way to his chest and while they gave the rest of his body a crude examination, the molesting lasted only for a moment. When one of the paws stopped on the heart however it remained there for a prolonged time. The other in the meantime continued its examination alone, only stopping like the first one when it grazed over the blackness on the purple shade at the back of the left leg.

Spyro didn't know why, but this separation of paws that worked together all this time only to be separated by the things he most values and fears felt somewhat symbolic.

There was nothing to read from the red dragon's expression, it was blank and creepy as always, it was only his red splotches that betrayed his fascination, they were pulsing rapidly, like many amorous hearts.

The dragons exchanged the silent glances between each other for a while, neither could read what was going through the other's head, the thread of reserved hostility was the only thing an outsider could catch from this confrontation.

Eventually the sight of the red dragon shifted to the cage, curious paw appeared near it in a blink of an eye, he drilled his invasive stare into Sparx, paw touching the cage, yet unable to squeeze through the tight bars. A single claw stretched out, forcing its way inside, only the tip managed to fit through, tip that immediately dropped down to strike the lying wing and trying to drag Sparx closer.

Another growl rumbled from Spyro's throat, his snarl widening to reveal more of the sharp teeth. This was the only moment where he moved, jerking the cage away from the dragon's reach.

A slight consternation broke among their guards, all of them twitched restlessly, none dared to act on their habits of undoubtedly teaching their prisoners lessons in obedience.

Perhaps the dragon who Spyro believed to be docile wasn't as harmless as he might seem.

"Mesmerized" the red dragon intoned, the purr seemed to be deeper than before, coming from the deepest bowels of what looked like to be passion.

He climbed back up on his desk, coiling around it and observing the group of strange prisoners entering the trapdoor.

"Welcome in your new home, my name is Bones and I'm your humble host" the red dragon bowed

And then the trapdoor opened before anyone could see the head rising back again.

With each new meeting and new experience Spyro doubted more and more if Orbis' plan worked as he intended. As for now a lot of the dragons they met only talked about special treatment and to be honest he didn't think it would change.

The fall and the choking darkness only confirmed that.

The wind was slapping against them quickly, bouncing off something nearby, the light their Binding chokers were giving away was too faint to see properly, but nevertheless the path they were falling through felt like an another drilled hallway.

And when the wind spread, no longer cutting them like sharp paper it only confirmed that they had just fell into a wide gallery of sorts, leaving the bottleneck of the trapdoor behind. They were dragons and their wings were sensible to the changing of currents.

Unfortunately for them contact with the ground came sooner than any healthy dragon could open his wings.

Sand splattered all around when the group of dragons hit the floor, the rough surface irritating their wounds even further. The moment they touched the ground the dark room caught light. Bars appeared all around them, locking them in a wide circle of glowing green bars, pulsating clearly with the Binding energy.

Their oppressing touch was choking, but it wasn't their influence only that thickened the air in this place, it almost felt like taking a murky dive in the swamps, something was swallowing you up despite your limbs trying to push away.

That something was hidden under the sand.

The whole area was connected, the bonds were clearly running through the floor spreading the hungry desire for magic of the bars through the entire pit. And it was quite a big one in that.

If not for the bars and the evident numbing effect of this place one could easily mistake it for a ring, or a training area, in fact it was quite familiar to Warfang's training grounds, with the only difference being that there was actually an exit visible somewhere nearby.

The light in the Pits however barely reached past the bars, it was a massive cave, the shadows shyly bent out of the spotlight in some places, revealing rough, chaotic rock. Even though the darkness shrouded the surroundings beyond the cage, there has to be a way hidden there that led out of this place.

This Pit was simply too big to simply serve like a standard prison, the idea of spectators gathering around the bars was a rather valid guess. Especially when considering the fact that there was only one trapdoor leading to it and there were no separate rooms to store different prisoners. Everyone was stuck in the same place, no matter what race you are.

That mix alone guaranteed fights and entertainment for the captors, not to mention their comfort, with enough coating they could get rid of the more annoying prisoners without even having to dirt their own paws.

The Pits was a hopeless place of survival, where it was hard to decide who is the actual winner, the chances of the strongest being granted freedom were slim, Skyward didn't seem like a place that would allow a strong prisoner to flourish behind its walls.

Luckily, at least for now, it seemed that they were the only ones in the Pits right now.

The impact made Spyro lose the grip on the cage, he immediately rolled onto his belly, ignoring the scratching pain of the sand and crawled quickly to where his brother was lying. He picked up the cage from the rough floor and immediately started blowing to get rid off any sand that Sparx could gather up on his body that greatly increased the chances of him choking to death.

"My poor bones" Cynder whined pitifully, her paws stretching out shakily

"How bad is it?" he gave his brother an intense look to check if he was alright, the moment he saw him breathing he felt a huge lump being torn off from his heart, he tenderly placed the cage on the ground and immediately pulled himself up to get to his mate

"Check the others" she waved her paw, directing him away from her "I'll be fine" she coughed up blood, her broken lips burned like wounds after a bee sting

Spyro rushed towards the unconscious girls sides, his steps were heavy and with each he made he felt like he needed to unglue it from the floor, the energy he felt flowing under the sand tugged his legs back to the ground, more heartless than gravity itself.

He got to Cellsa first, she was nose first into the floor, he folded her legs and propped her head on top of them, avoiding rolling her on her side to keep sand away from the cauterized wound, which started to slowly pour blood again, opening after the rough treatment she received.

He wiped her mouth and pried her maw open to scoop the sand from her tongue, her neck squeezing on its own, triggering a gag reflex, he took that as a warning sign and immediately backed away.

He made his way to Iris next, she landed on her back, not wanting to risk her on inhaling sand or choking on her own tongue if she would accidently swallow something he didn't see he decided to move her on her side. He carefully reached under her head, keeping it aloft as much as possible to avoid straining her neck as he turned her. The moment she was resting the way he wanted he rested her head carefully on the ground, deciding it was safer to place it directly on the sand than manipulate it into a more comfortable position.

He still couldn't believe he healed her wounds and even though they held firm during the painful transport he didn't want to push luck any further, uncertain just how reliable his newfound magic was.

"Is there any way I can help you?" he approached Cynder, with an angry frown scanning her bruised body, keeping his shaking paws away

"I'm peachy. Clean Cellsa's wounds, I see sand glittering there"

"Are you sure?"

"Spyro" she chuckled forcefully, licking the blood from her lips "I've been ganged up and beaten and can still talk, considering that I would turn far worse back in our place in the same situation, this feels like a vacation"

"At least you didn't lose your sarcastic humor" Spyro returned to the electric dragoness side and immediately began licking her wounds clean

"Yeah, sometimes I feel like it is the only thing keeping me sane" she winced, her lungs didn't seem to like the recent breath she took "Is everyone alive?" her breath came with a painful whizz

Purple head rose from behind the orange body, red, dripping wet tongue making rounds around even the more bloodied lips as the amethyst eyes scanned the group, making sure that everyone is still breathing.

"Thanks the Ancestors, yes, they are out cold, but alive"

"Good. Sparx will pull through, he's tough and our two ladies deserve an oblivious rest after what they did. They can consider themselves lucky that you were there" she rearranged her body, hissing in pain, no matter where she moved though the bones seemed to stab her flesh anyway "Speaking of you, you think you can lend a little of that healing juice?"

Spyro swallowed, observing the wet trail his tongue left on Cellsa's wound. Instinctively he started channeling his magic, he didn't pay attention what exactly, all he was thinking about was that he wants that wound to be gone. It was idiotic, but he felt that this cut was his responsibility, not literally, but in a more metaphorical sense. Wherever he went he left a trail of blood behind, Ignitus already paid the ultimate price for his heroic passions and it was only a matter of time before someone else does too, there were too many wounds in his wake to let them be ignored.

Not to mention the bodies of his enemies. Their deaths marked bleeding cuts on somebody's souls too.

If he would be able to heal, than perhaps there would be a time where no blood would be necessary and he would finally walk the prophecy path of fortune and peace without painting the ground red. It would make Ignitus proud, and himself too, maybe then the idea of being Malefor, a dragon the Vaccarus saw in him would stop its drilling in the back of his head.

Maybe then he would begin to believe that the prophecy was actually true.

It was either his uncertainty or the draining aura of this place that blocked his abilities, whatever the case may be, the desire alone to lock the wound was not enough to spark the interest of his Aether magic.

"I wished Cynder, but I have no idea how I did that"

"Try groping Iris again, it worked last time, your mate doesn't seem to be good enough"

"What?" he looked at her in total disbelief

The dragoness snickered, gripping her aching side.

"Sorry, it was uncalled for. I just wanted to get my head away from the pain. It was just a stupid joke"

Spyro sighed.

"Joke or no joke, you might actually be right about the groping thing, Iris was bleeding bad and my paws were all over the place maybe it was that panic that triggered it somehow? I dunno, but I can't feel it near Cellsa, maybe because I know she'll live" he rubbed his forehead, wincing through the increasing pain in his forehead "I really don't know, sometimes I don't even know why I help Iris or why do I even care, we wouldn't be in this mess if not for that. We wouldn't have to deal with ghosts that demand favors from you, nor meet people that see someone you most fear in you. I wouldn't put my loved ones life's at stake and I..." he sighed tiredly, glancing over his blackened leg "I'm just getting sick of meeting folks that seem to know more about us than we do about them and they're from the past! It all seems like one, huge manipulation and I'm simply powerless to notice the pattern"

"I understand that it might be much but I don't get why it bothers you now. Spyro, you literally put the world together, everything else is a breeze compared to that"

"I'm really starting to wonder if it was really the world that needed saving there, lately it all started to feel like another move on a chessboard to me"

"What chessboard?" Cynder propped herself on her legs to focus her worried eyes on her mate more properly "What are you talking about Spyro? You sure you don't hit your head too hard out there somewhere?"

He chuckled.

"I wish" his purple paw scooped the sand away, revealing a metallic plating below, the true ground, through which glowed bright, green veins of magic. So similar in form to the tether that connected their medallions back in the days.

"Check the ground Cynder, please, clear the sand and tell me what you see"

She was hesitant at first, she had never seen Spyro so distressed before, never so fed up with their situation. It wasn't doubt that spoke through him, but cautiousness, not for himself, it was never about him. Whatever was bothering him was making him worry for everyone else, for them, his friends and loved ones. Spyro was modest but he knew he was capable of the impossible, he proved that many times over, something that couldn't be said about the rest of them.

She could feel that he was afraid he won't be able to protect them.

Right now she started to feel the freezing grip of dread herself, she didn't really want to look at the floor, but her limbs moved on their own, soul sensing that ignoring his wish would change nothing. If there was some manipulative game in play here, it will carry on whether they will be aware of it or not.

She cleared the sand, looking at the same picture Spyro was.

"Green rows of energy in metallic plates, I see it reaching out to us, draining our energy like leeches do blood"

"And doesn't it remind you of the chain that tied us together?"

She cocked his head, she didn't really think about it before, but now when Spyro mentioned, yeah, it did look similar.

"Kinda I suppose"

"We are in the past Cynder, how is Malefor's magic present here? Of course the medallion didn't drain us, but Malefor could improve it and there is no denying that this one also wants to keep us locked in place, it simply doesn't have the strength to do so"

"Okay, it's a bit weird, I won't deny it, but what's your point here Spyro? This all can be just a coincidence, I mean, dragons existed throughout the many eras, the same magic, but in different shapes could too, just like our scale colors"

"I didn't say anything, because I thought it was nothing, but for some time I have this strange feeling nagging me whenever something big happens. I imagine myself playing a game of chess with someone I can't see. I don't know what this game is about or who my opponent is, but I sense that it has something to do with all the stuff we find in the Veils"

He gazed on the wounds, soul vibrating at the memory of mending a cut like that with his paws alone.

"It happened again when I healed Iris. I saw the pieces move, I saw myself surprising my opponent, but not because I did something impossible, but because I did something faster than was expected. My Aether, the Wanderer or however you want to call that thing in Flare's timeline, Brill, Danox, that Chimera thing in Cloudas' world, the fleeing Vaccarus, the Moonborne and finally Iris' mom. All of them seem to know something about me, about the purple dragon, all of them give us scraps of information that we have no idea we can trust. All of them seem to know more about me than I do, all seems to be connected somehow, all of them wants something from me and I have no idea if listening to them is good or not! It pisses me off Cynder because there is no consequence of my decisions! A leader should know if he is doing good or not, how can I keep you all safe when I feel that I'm following someone's else's thread instead of my own? It all feels like a prolonged game with a constantly moving finish line"

His eyes landed on the left leg, watching the black and purple colors there, pulsing, fighting, struggling to be the dominant force. Even though purple had the advantage now, he sensed deep down that the advantage didn't matter much. Which of the two will win was still an unknown.

"And I'm afraid Cynder, for us, for you and Sparx and everyone else, because if I won't figure out what is going on soon, I might loose pieces on my board that I hold very dear to me. It all seems to be building up, with the huge risk of blowing up in the future and I have only two front paws Cynder. Only two paws that right now I have no control over. It's very infuriating"

He groaned into the empty air of the thick cage, despite his concerns that eaten at him throughout their whole trek to this prison, he felt somewhat better now when he let it all out, lighter and ready to face more struggles, feeling as if he again had enough reserve to store more troubles in his heart.

"Sorry for this, but I guess I couldn't hold it back any longer. I feel a little better though so I hope it was worth it"

Cynder swallowed deeply, narrowing his eyes on him.

"Spyro, get over here" she said sternly, despite the plug that built in her throat her voice was vibrant and commanding

He chuckled.

"You're going to slap me won't you?"

"Get over here"

He obeyed the command, submissively approaching his mate. He stopped in front of her, giving her a warm smile.

Her eyes flashed, paw shot forward to snatch him by the fin and drag his head closer, making him almost topple down after the fierce tug. She pressed her lips to his, bestowing him with one of the most passionate and supportive kisses. The touch of her lips left him breathless, draining the blood from all the limbs, it's been a while since they were intimate and indulging in this moment amidst creatures they wanted to keep their relationship a secret made this kiss that much more intense.

He sunk into it before he could even realize it, the hostile environment and the risk of being found out did not matter any longer, everything was just a faded shadow. All he could care about was the lips of his mate and the supportive passion she was bestowing him with. Even though her tugging lips were hungry with desire, leaving him breathless the longer they reminded him of his value, the more he felt alive. His heart, that for a moment there seemed to forget what its job was renewed its beating with rejuvenated vigor, pumping blood so fast and waking up the muscles so swiftly that he felt like a newborn hatchling all over again, with the strength to crack the bars of this prison like they would be dry sticks.

He leaned in, pressing against the black mouth, wanting more of her breath.

Cynder chuckled, pressing her paw against his leaning in body and pushing him away.

"There, there, you sweet dork, remember where we are, I know this place looks like an arena but what about not giving these folks a show of us doing it, huh? They never seen our type before, I already see the crowds gathering here, it would be a spectacle for them for sure. Live action of putting the wand in the chamber of secrets"

Spyro snorted, covering his childish smile.

"Putting the wand in the chamber of secrets?"

"You know, because we are unknown, magical and-"

"I understand" he giggled "Ancestors, you're awesome"

Cynder grinned "I know" her eyes glimmered with affection "And you know who is more awesome?" she reached out, with a loving smile petting her mate's snout, gently wiping the blood from his draconic face that her messed up lips left on it

He needed some support so much that he didn't even notice it.

"You are"

He tilted his head, with a dreamy purr rubbing against her petting paw.

"You are looking at it from the wrong side Spyro, try seeing the positive here. Let's say there is really some game going on, you might feel that you're being toyed with since you have no control, I literally know how it feels to have own desires and purpose out of reach so believe me when I say that I know how depressing it is. But in my case the tugging was direct, Malefor attached a chain to my choker and was pulling me in whatever direction he wanted. The chain you have if there is any to begin with, is far more subtle than mine, hell I even think you have the key for it you just can't remember where. You said yourself that you're following a thread, you are being led by scraps and for everything that's holy I can't believe that triggering you're healing powers was the plan of any evil mastermind"

She pinched his cheek supportively.

"You outplayed that guy that very moment, you kicked away the crumbs he was leaving you and why you didn't hear anything scream in terror? Because your enemy would reveal himself. You see what I mean? You are being led by crumbs, whatever is playing the game with you here is too afraid to tug at your chain. It is too afraid to touch you Spyro, just like Creep said, you are your own master and no matter how long you will keep looking at that leg of yours it won't change the fact that purple rules here. The problem here is that you are out of control, you might follow the line as it wishes, but you have always the opportunity to change direction the way you wish"

She pointed her claw at his golden chest, sighing deeply, sensing the besting of the wondrous heart.

"Because of that. You cannot control that. Stop worrying about us, what we share is not a burden, but strength. We are big girls and boys, if we get hurt so be it, we all know the risk, but no matter what happens Spyro, you will draw strength from it. You hold the world by neck love, it literally has your energy all over it, so follow your heart and give its gratitude just like you gave me and stop worrying about bad stuff happening. It will happen nonetheless, you just need to remember that you can fix it"

She winked at him.

"Just leave a little space for me in that heart you hear? I want you for myself and I'm not keen to share"

Amethyst eyes looked back at her with burning love, she could see that whatever doubt he has was gone, not only that but the immense gratitude radiating from the windows to his soul left her trembling. There was an undeniable spark of reverence glimmering in his sight.

Once more she was reminded that when he called her his goddess he meant it.

It felt awesome to be loved.

Spyro smiled warmly.

"I'm still having doubts it's all worth it to be honest"

Green eyes widened in alarm.

A spark of joyous tease flashed in his eyes, widening his smile.

"I think I need another kiss to be certain"

Cynder laughed.

"Don't push it Spyro. Sparx might catch us kissing and I don't think Amela has the strength to have another patient on therapy. I'm already a handful for the old girl"

She punched him playfully.

"That's all you get for teasing me like that!" she blew him a kiss "Dork"

He bowed in sincere gratitude.

"Thank you for being here with me"

"Always"

"I'm glad you're by my side, despite the circumstances you keep your spirit up. It's addicting"

"I'm the queen of misery" she smirked mischievously "Curse and abuse does that to you, don't recommend trying it though, eyes kinda get dry from all the crying and liquids might be the thing we just need right now"

He chuckled, the laughter interrupted by a ray of gold light cutting through the air. Light that he recognized instantly.

He started moving backwards even before his body turned, legs swiping like paddles of a boat, building up speed for the sprint he pushed his body into. He sprang forward, dropping on the sand with a slide, ignoring its rough touch on his scales, all that mattered for him was the cage that his paws kept clenching tightly.

His wide, joyous eyes stared at the dragonfly inside intently.

Sparx' body kept flashing, the light he was giving away weak at first, shy, like a heart that renewed its beating after resuscitation. The pulses getting stronger however with each passing second, Spyro was so enthralled by the sight of his brother waking up that he didn't even feel the blinding hue burning his eyes.

Hands adjusted themselves with the surface of the cage, wings began beating and then with a low groan Sparx lifted himself up, his head turning around slowly, taking in the surroundings.

This wasn't the first time he lost consciousness by getting a blow in the head, what made this situation better than the others is the fact that he expected the attack to happen and was ready for the consequences. While not totally healthy, this preparation turned all of this into an unwilling, dreamless slumber.

Also one can't forget that he is a dragonfly, his heart beats with the speed of his wings and the latter move so quickly that there is basically no room for a break so when his wings started to wake up so did the rest of his body, adjusting swiftly to the surrounding reality and shaking

Eventually looking straight into the purple nose and the thrilled eyes glowing above.

"Hey Sparx" Spyro whispered, his voice vibrating with emotion

"Who's there?" yellow hand pushed forward, patting at the nostrils blindly "I can't see you!"

The happiness evaporated from the purple face, the scales losing colors and turning pale, as if life would be sucked out of them. Saliva that Spyro swallowed got stuck in his throat, frozen in place.

He's blind?

The yellow hand stopped its random touching, just to give the purple nose a playful snap.

Spark of vicious triumph flashed in Sparx' eyes.

"Got you bro! Relax dude or you're get a stroke"

"Damn you Sparx!" he rattled the cage angrily

"Dude! Watch it!" hands gripped the yellow head "My brain is going to explode!"

"I've almost had a heart attack! You joke now? Are you serious?!"

"Sorry man! Now stop the shaking! The headache is real" he gagged "I'm going to throw up"

Spyro opened the cage, casting it aside and plucking his brother from within who he immediately hugged.

"Throw up all you want, I'm glad you're alive. Just don't make jokes like that again, please"

He patted his draconic brother comfortingly "You got it bro" he muffled into his scales "You can let go now, you smell dude"

The drake chuckled through soft, emotional sobs

"No worse than you"

Sparx managed to squeeze himself from his brother's grip, not completely, but enough to poke his head from behind the scales, catching in his sight the two crazy chicks who's state was exactly as he remembered before his lights were cut off. What mattered to him the most was the last chick though, the relief he felt when he saw her bloodied, yet smiling snout was impossible to describe with words.

"Nice style Cyn, the gore fits with the color of your eyes"

"When we get out of here I'm planning to spread the fashion. It's going to be the next big hit"

Both their smiles grew wider, words they spoken meant absolutely nothing and admitting that they were childish when considering the seriousness of their situation was something anyone listening to them just now would do.

The foreigners however were unfamiliar with the bond the two shared.

It didn't matter what letters their tongues produced, all that mattered was the intention behind them. The aura of undeniable gratitude and excitement radiating from both smiles was more blinding than any light. One wouldn't have to turn to the skies to look for divine reverence if people smiled at each other like these two.

"So guys" Sparx climbed on top of his brother's head, laying down in between the horns "Let me in on the plan. We blast our way out, escape, or what do we do?"

Spyro exchanged a meaningful glance with Cynder, both of them exactly oblivious.

"There's no plan. We're locked behind binding bars, the stuff is draining our magic"

"Dude, bars?" Sparx spread his arms, giving his draconic sibling a reminding pat on the snout "Since when did those stop me? I'm slender as a muse, I'll fit in any hole"

"Maybe you could, try if you can, but I wouldn't do anything now anyway. This place sucks, but the good news is we are the only prisoners that caused quite a ruckus above. Whoever will come here will have to prepare to meet us, and if the big fishes are so secretive and manipulative as the Moonborne say they will have to come here with something in their mind, not to mention that if the rumors are true about dethroning Athron some of those interested parties might want to keep their visit here away from the public information and that also requires planning. It might not look like it but I think we might have some leverage here"

"Spyro's right, time is on our side" Cynder admitted with a groan, changing position, the tiniest slide with her limbs sending irritating pulses of pain through her skull "It's not comfy but we can regenerate our wounds a little. Our healing processes work just fine and we really need it, especially our two dumb fighters here"

Sparx glanced condescendingly towards his brother.

"That sounds like a plan dude and not a bad one in fact. Still I don't really get why they locked us all in one place. Seems risky to put all your prisoners together, just asks for conspiracy if you ask me"

"Remember where you are Sparx, it looks like everyone hates each other guts in this place"

"This is my idea too" Spyro looked up, gazing into the tight bottleneck above, gloomy and narrow like some thrash shuttle "They don't have cells prepared for prisoners to store them, they pit them against each other. A dream come true for that creepy dragon above, that guy has some really grabby paws"

Yellow hand rose in the air anyway.

"Maybe no official fighting but I'm still in for some good old ass kicking. I just can't decide between crazy lady number one and crazy lady number two" his eyes kept springing almost hatefully between the two still unconscious dragonesses

"I would gladly join" Cynder hissed, taking a hacking breath full of stinging pain "But some shut eye would be good for all of us. We kinda need Cellsa to show us the ropes of this place"

"Alright" Sparx cracked his fingers "While we wait I'll take a look around this place, I'm sure this place has to have a hole somewhere, places in our world had tons of them everywhere and out there they knew who their dragonfly hero is"

Spyro noted that this wasn't actually a bad idea, the inhabitants of this world were unfamiliar with dragonflies, while they might have secured the pits against the probes of big creatures the chances that they prepared themselves for small ones was minimal.

That and there was always Cynder who cannot be stopped by any sorts of bars. Though the aura of this place drained their essence, the black dragoness was simply too powerful to let such indirect magic overpower her. If she wanted to she would easily slide under them as a cloud of shadow.

But it was better for them to not show all of their tricks, their opponents have the advantage of secrecy so anything to make the odds a bit more even was welcome.

All they could do now was wait.

Time was on their side.

Spyro closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, his mind instinctively drawn into a whirl of thoughts where he tried to imagine the chessboard.

Wondering who was confident enough to make a move in this game of special rules.

Nothing appeared but deep frowns of focus on his purple forehead. But he could feel the board and a presence, the game was underway, yet clouded in shadows, as dark as the surroundings of their prison.

Locked in an obscured stalemate where anything can happen.