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Chapter 2
Chapter 4
I felt bad. Not physically however. The proper term is guilty. We left Elora nearly an hour ago as she explained her visitation times were only thirty minutes. I refused to have the paladins have to drag me out- I had (and still do) half a mind to free Elora from those glorified tin cans that were her 'bodyguards'. I knew the League was more shady in their dealings than the average citizen but to have Elora under capture in broad daylight bespoke of a new kind of evil among us: as the people feared chaos and anarchy they could be slowly but surely selling their souls to a handful of power hungry tyrants in the making for only a slither of hope of order or semblance of stability. And maybe this time me and Spyro could not save them.
From themselves or their fear.
“Mmm Cynder you should really try this.” The glowing yellow dragonfly spoke at me as he chowed down on a Sparx-sized mutton. Don't ask me how they had those.
“You know I could inhale that Sparx.”
“Well you're lucky. They're cheap too. This only cost me one ava.” Sparx countered matter-of-factly. Sidenote, the ava was the currency of the realm, coins minted by the Council and magically the public put worth in them.
“Sparx, for one ava I could get a normal size mutton. That's a terrible deal for what you got right there.” I said incredulously.
Sparx stopped. His face became one of quiet embarrassment. “.... oh yeah. Did not think of that..... awkward.”
A second later there was smoke everywhere followed by loud pops! I could not see but whatever those pops were they were sinfully loud! My ears rang and my eyes burned from the smoke. Whatever had detonated had done so very close to me. All I could see was the vague glow of Sparx's shine and all there was to be heard was the muted panicked screams and shouts as the citizens ran for their lives.
It all happened so fast I almost felt as if I was mired in mud, mentally and physically. I had been in combat before but you will never be prepared for a cowardly sneak attack! I tried to call to Sparx but with the ringing in my ear I could barely hear myself think. I soon felt myself mouthing 'Get out of here! Find Spyro!' but whether in vain or not I could not say.
Sparx's glow disappeared and a few seconds later the smoke abated to drift in the sky. It was then that our attackers became visible...
Eight people, bipedal in stature, all the same size and their gender could not be distinguished. They wore fitting black robes with small pieces of tailored charcoal colored armor the likes and styles which I have never seen in Warfang. But most noticeable about them was the silver/steel skull masks that each wore. The masks were forged to a visage of an angry skull bearing its teeth at the viewer while the eyes were nothing by black pits of anonymous terror.
And they had Sparx!! One of the assailants had a brown sack bag that struggled and wrestled in vain.
“Release the dragonfly! Do it while you still have the chance of leaving with your legs intact.” I demanded striking a battle stance.
The assassin holding Sparx captive seemed to laugh and drew a rectangular hilt. At the press of a button a thin but long blade sprang from the hilt and the other acolytes followed suit.
“Time to die Cynder. Our lord has called for you to be sent screaming into the void. Before we slit your throat- do you have any last words?” The assassin oozed cruelly with a neck-slitting gesture.
“Hey watch the language. The ESRB will jack up our rating because of that!” Sparx cried in a muffled tone from in the bag.
I gritted my teeth in rage. “Tell me who your master is so I can take of him after I dispose of you.”
The assassin tilted his head in slight confusion. “You... you really don't know.... Faranthia beckons you...”
Faranthia. One moment he said that name and next I was fallen over on the ground of the eatery. My mind and vision were swimming. I felt, nothing. As if I had become detached from my own body. Simple thoughts were like quantum physics. I felt as though I had just plunged into ice cold water. Was I dying? My vision felt like a body of water that had been disturbed by a swimmer, ripples upon ripples virtually blinded me. Vision impaired as it was I was still able to see the shimmering form of the master assassin approach me on the ground. He was menacing me with that small blade, almost poking my eyeball. How had these assassins bested me? Who was this Faranthia?
It seemed now I would never know.
- - -
“Goodbye Cynder.” The assassin whispered as he readied to plunge his sword into the dragoness's skull. While the group had become intent on watching the assassination they failed to notice one of the people in the crowd had not fled and instead was rushing them! A robed figure like them except his robe was a dull brown and worn from walking countless roads. The first assassin went down with a sneak attack as the robed man brought his wooden walking staff to bear on the back of his head. He landed with a thud but this alerted the others and postponed Cynder's demise.
“You!” The assassin holding Sparx spat. “Destroy him! I have to report to Faranthia!” He said with a notion to his bag full of dragonfly.
“Yu should have stayed with your mastah!” The figure said in a thick accented voice that betrayed his advanced age.
The other six assassins converged on the mysterious savior. Quickly the stranger whipped a small potion off his rope belt and threw it on the ground. The contents flash froze to ice on the tile ground causing the assassins to slip at the unexpected change in footing. The man took his chance and cracked one assassin in the head while he was down, rendering him unconscious. He barely sidestepped the next attack as the assassin slashed at him with his stiletto, cutting hairs off his beard.
“It is you who should have stayed in Törg old man!” The assassin spat. A second later the assassin stabbed into a wall unaware of how close they had been or where the mysterious stranger was leading him. It was too late before the old man had hit him in the stomach with his walking stick and in one fluid motion brought brunt of the stick on his head.
Enraged, the other four attacked lunged at the old man. He noticed this and made a swift roll to counter them. Two landed beside him only to be hit with balls of blue fire magically fired from each respective end of his stick. Another assassin grabbed him from behind and put him in a choke hold causing him to drop his staff.
“Kill him!” He ordered at the only assassin left. The robed menace drove his dagger straight for the stranger only to miss when he went dead weight causing the assassin holding him to become the target for his dagger. The assassin gasped at what happened and dropped the dagger now plunged in his master's face.
“I deed not mean for that-” The old man began to talk to the younger assassin who was shocked and horrified by his action before he was suddenly impaled from the back by Cynder's tail blade. He wretched and spurted black ink-like icor as the blade came out his chest covered in obsidian ooze and yelped as she withdrew this back through him. He fell to the ground in a splatter of 'blood' with a new hole in his chest. Gurgled weakly and ceased moving.
- - -
My mind was cleared but my vision was returning to me. I had only been able to watch my rescuer fend off the assassins while I was incapacitated as I tried to marshal my strength to stand back up. I would not be much help but I channeled what little reserves of focus I had and impaled the last assassin.
With them defeated I felt my strength and vitality return to me in waves. I blinked several times and could see normally again. That's when I saw the bodies... how they melted into black ooze that steamed and evaporated before my very eyes. A moment later and it was as if they were never there except for a black sickly stain on the ground.
“C-cyndah...” An aged voice croaked weakly behind me. I looked and saw my savior. An old man, much shorter than me but far older by the sound of his voice. His brown robe was little more than tatters with stitched patches with a rope belt which dangled a handful of small colorful vials of foreign liquid.
“Thank you. For saving me.” I said still fatigued from whatever spell those assassins had placed on me.
He picked up his stick, a well worn walking stick with several carved runes on it. It looked as though he had owned it since before I was born. He started to speak but erupted in a coughing fit. He buckled as his hood jerked with each violent cough. Thinking on my feet I turned a stool upright so he could sit on it. He wordlessly sat down and took in several labored breaths.
“I am sorry Cyndah. Fighting like dat is... taxing on deez old bones. I had been following dem for a while.”
Do you know them?” I asked still unsure what to make of this man and whether he was friend or foe.
“Not personally. I asked de spirits to lead me to you. Den I learned Faranthia's assassins were coming across de oshun to Avalar.”
I jumped back when he said Faranthia- expecting the same pain and disorientation as before but this time nothing happened. “Who are you? Who's... Faranthia? And why were you looking for me? Why'd they take Sparx! Where'd they take Sparx?!”
“I will tell you all you desire Cyndah.” The stranger reached his wrinkled hands and removed his hood. I was disappointed as I expected to know this person but alas his face was foreign. He was an ape, the same tribe that served in Malefor's army at my command. He was old, old enough to be old at the time Spyro and I became trapped in the Well of Souls. He had no hair save for his gray ape fur but had an unkempt flowing beard that stretched to his waist and probably further if he had a hunch back from his age. He also sported an eye patch over his left eye on his wrinkled face.
“You do not recognize me.... I tot as such, I can see it in yow eyes, you do not belong to Malefor anymore. I am called, Ubuntu. I was a sorcerer in Malefor's army even before you ever came to de battlefield. Faranthia is why I came to find you in fact. I come from the land of Törg, across the ocean, a land currently under the terrible threat of Faranthia herself. If you do not know me then you do not know Faranthia. Cyndah- she was your spymaster and favorite assassin now turned aspiring tyrant. We in Törg live in fear of her and her army of abominations!” He spoke in a deliberate, gravely and all around mystic tone.
“So.. you want me and Spyro to help?” I presumed cocking my head to the side.
Ubuntu let out a labored sigh through his simian nostrils as he looked up at me with his one eye. “No. Spyro has hez own path. Dis is more dan me Cyndah. Dis is for you too. Can you not feel it wit all your soul dat there are malevolent forces just outside our periphery. I can see into yow heart Cyndah. Hearing her name has just now reawakened dem. It is not just Faranthia. Seven sins, seven atrocities worse than the rest. Committed by Malefor but done by your hands and regardless the weight of their torment weighs on your soul. You can hear them now can you? Their screams on the winds, crying out in fear, pain, malice and wrath. If you do not end their suffering it will overflow and inflict great harm on all. Listen Cyndah, not wit yow ears but wit yow soul....”
I took a step back from the man's prattling. How could this be? I remember no Faranthia, no Ubuntu and not this Törg land. But now I could hear something, faint almost unnoticeable if I had remained ignorant. When I tuned out the noise of the city I could hear it. Faint screaming of men and women barely audible on the winds, almost as if it was not actually there but in my own head.
“That's their souls Cyndah. Crying out for an ending to their suffering. And you're the only one who can do it... I can help yu do dis.”
- - -
“What do you mean Sparx is gone?!” Spyro yelled in panic, his eyes wide with worry. His brother and closest friend was not to be found after the smoke died down. Not long after me and Ubuntu's conversation the Council police with Spyro and some League knights arrived to assess the situation. The indignant loathing of the League personnel having found me at this situation was palpable.
“These assassins tried to kill me Spyro and they took Sparx in a sneak attack!” I said back to him. He was barely holding back his panic. I knew this was not a healthy situation for him considering his recent confession.
“Assassins? What assassins and how did they get the drop on you?”
I took a step back. I felt the prick his words like a mosquito bite. “They- they-.”
“Spyro. De assassins were de Ink Skulls, Faranthia's servants that she creates in her cathedral. She has many servants.” Ubuntu piped up in his elderly grumble but obviously trying to diffuse Spyro.
“And who's this guy? Who's Faranthia?” Spyro queried raising his brow.
I paused. “This is... Ubuntu. He saved me from the assassins. He was a sorcerer in Malefor's army. He said he's come to help.” I cooed trying to ease the purple dragon.
Spyro turned and looked at Ubuntu who still sat on the same bench. The police tried to escort him out but we intervened. So they had to work around us. The old ape returned Spyro's glance with his one eye.
“What did you do in Malefor's army?” Spyro asked with more than a little mistrust on his words.
I cringed but Ubuntu did not seem to squirm. He either came to terms with what he did or was too old to care about Spyro's spite. “I was a demon summoner for Gaul. Gaul would have me channel demons and spirits through me so he could make deals or gather strategic advice from beyond de grave.”
“So you unleashed demons on the battlefield. What else did you do?” Spyro said with a muted horror crossed with shock.
There was a pregnant pause as Ubuntu thought to himself. “I...” His one eye glanced at me. “I was one of de mages who channeled Malefor into you Cyndah.”
Before I had time to register what he had actually said Spyro was upon the old man in a purple flash. Spyro pinned Ubuntu to the wall with his muscular foreleg. The elderly ape choked and grunted in pain. “So you did that to her! Give me a reason why I shouldn't crush you right now-” Spyro spat in resolute rage.
Ubuntu... had been one of the mages who enchanted me with Malefor turning me into his puppet. I felt sick, violated and confused. The feeling of violation at being ensorcerered as a newborn to do Malefor's will with the help of Ubuntu and his fellow mages. He was the reason my life would never be normal. I wanted to feel rage. Burning and terrible rage that would overflow into a wrath so great that I could simply destroy the old ape to his soul.
But I could not...
Try as I may I only saw the helpless old man under Spyro's crushing force. A pathetic, enfeelbed old man. But why had he saved me? Why had he sought me out to tell me of Faranthia and the seven suffering in Törg? Why would he tell the truth knowing Spyro's wrath would be instant? These questions made me beg Spyro's mercy.
“Because- Spyro- I came to make amends. And you're not a murderer.” Ubuntu choked out. The police and League goons were starting to take notice to our scene.
“Spyro stop!” I pleaded with the purple dragon. He was barring his teeth at Ubuntu.
“Spyro, yu are hurting. Faranthia's creatures- took Sparx thinking Cyndah would follow.”
Spyro pushed into the wall again eliciting an eek from Ubuntu. “Who is Faranthia? Starting talking.”
I grabbed Spyro's shoulder and threw him back, freeing Ubuntu who gasped for air when he hit the ground with a thud. Spyro backpedaled and glared at me taking heavy breathes.
“Spyro- Faranthia was one of Malefor's generals under me, an assassin. Apparently when I was under Malefor's spell I committed seven atrocities in Törg and those seven are about to wreak havoc across that land unless I can put them to rest.” I paraphrased to Spyro who simply took deep breaths in quiet anger only stopping to glare at Ubuntu.
“What if it's a trap Cynder? What if he's lying. What if he works for Faranthia?” Spyro remarked with a stomp of frustration.
“Why would he lie Spyro? I was helpless when the assassins said her name for the first time. If he wanted me dead he could have just stayed away and I'd be dead and Sparx would still be kidnapped.”
Spyro flinched when I said that. I must have plucked a cord in his psyche. His breathing became lighter and his shoulders lowered. “... All I know is that Sparx is kidnapped and you were attacked. Ubuntu might have saved you but we don't know everything- and he was one of the mages that gave you to Malefor. What if he's lying about these seven- whatchamacallits and it's a ploy to get you to Faranthia? What if Faranthia isn't even real?”
“What if he's telling the truth Spyro. If he's being truthful then Törg is in danger. If the seven destroy Törg their rampage could come to Avalar!”
There was an awkward pause as a stillness came over all of us. Then I noticed the police, League and civilians behind barricades that were watching this developing scene. Had they been privy to this whole debacle?
“It seems we have been noticed. Perhaps we should retire to a more... private place for des conversations.” Ubuntu coughed, holding himself upright with his walking stick.
Spyro and I exchanged glances. The frustration and anger in his eyes was fleeting only to give way to the panic and worry about his kidnapped brother and words of these sinister seven on the horizon.
There was a pregnant pause before Spyro spoke up and with a resolve I had not expected. “He's right.” He said and turned to the Council lieutenant. “Cuff the wizard and bring him to the temple. We can talk there.”
“I will not fight you officer. I will go peacefully. Hopefully a sign of good faith to Spyro.” Ubuntu said to the officer who cuffed him nervously.
Chapter 4
I felt bad. Not physically however. The proper term is guilty. We left Elora nearly an hour ago as she explained her visitation times were only thirty minutes. I refused to have the paladins have to drag me out- I had (and still do) half a mind to free Elora from those glorified tin cans that were her 'bodyguards'. I knew the League was more shady in their dealings than the average citizen but to have Elora under capture in broad daylight bespoke of a new kind of evil among us: as the people feared chaos and anarchy they could be slowly but surely selling their souls to a handful of power hungry tyrants in the making for only a slither of hope of order or semblance of stability. And maybe this time me and Spyro could not save them.
From themselves or their fear.
“Mmm Cynder you should really try this.” The glowing yellow dragonfly spoke at me as he chowed down on a Sparx-sized mutton. Don't ask me how they had those.
“You know I could inhale that Sparx.”
“Well you're lucky. They're cheap too. This only cost me one ava.” Sparx countered matter-of-factly. Sidenote, the ava was the currency of the realm, coins minted by the Council and magically the public put worth in them.
“Sparx, for one ava I could get a normal size mutton. That's a terrible deal for what you got right there.” I said incredulously.
Sparx stopped. His face became one of quiet embarrassment. “.... oh yeah. Did not think of that..... awkward.”
A second later there was smoke everywhere followed by loud pops! I could not see but whatever those pops were they were sinfully loud! My ears rang and my eyes burned from the smoke. Whatever had detonated had done so very close to me. All I could see was the vague glow of Sparx's shine and all there was to be heard was the muted panicked screams and shouts as the citizens ran for their lives.
It all happened so fast I almost felt as if I was mired in mud, mentally and physically. I had been in combat before but you will never be prepared for a cowardly sneak attack! I tried to call to Sparx but with the ringing in my ear I could barely hear myself think. I soon felt myself mouthing 'Get out of here! Find Spyro!' but whether in vain or not I could not say.
Sparx's glow disappeared and a few seconds later the smoke abated to drift in the sky. It was then that our attackers became visible...
Eight people, bipedal in stature, all the same size and their gender could not be distinguished. They wore fitting black robes with small pieces of tailored charcoal colored armor the likes and styles which I have never seen in Warfang. But most noticeable about them was the silver/steel skull masks that each wore. The masks were forged to a visage of an angry skull bearing its teeth at the viewer while the eyes were nothing by black pits of anonymous terror.
And they had Sparx!! One of the assailants had a brown sack bag that struggled and wrestled in vain.
“Release the dragonfly! Do it while you still have the chance of leaving with your legs intact.” I demanded striking a battle stance.
The assassin holding Sparx captive seemed to laugh and drew a rectangular hilt. At the press of a button a thin but long blade sprang from the hilt and the other acolytes followed suit.
“Time to die Cynder. Our lord has called for you to be sent screaming into the void. Before we slit your throat- do you have any last words?” The assassin oozed cruelly with a neck-slitting gesture.
“Hey watch the language. The ESRB will jack up our rating because of that!” Sparx cried in a muffled tone from in the bag.
I gritted my teeth in rage. “Tell me who your master is so I can take of him after I dispose of you.”
The assassin tilted his head in slight confusion. “You... you really don't know.... Faranthia beckons you...”
Faranthia. One moment he said that name and next I was fallen over on the ground of the eatery. My mind and vision were swimming. I felt, nothing. As if I had become detached from my own body. Simple thoughts were like quantum physics. I felt as though I had just plunged into ice cold water. Was I dying? My vision felt like a body of water that had been disturbed by a swimmer, ripples upon ripples virtually blinded me. Vision impaired as it was I was still able to see the shimmering form of the master assassin approach me on the ground. He was menacing me with that small blade, almost poking my eyeball. How had these assassins bested me? Who was this Faranthia?
It seemed now I would never know.
- - -
“Goodbye Cynder.” The assassin whispered as he readied to plunge his sword into the dragoness's skull. While the group had become intent on watching the assassination they failed to notice one of the people in the crowd had not fled and instead was rushing them! A robed figure like them except his robe was a dull brown and worn from walking countless roads. The first assassin went down with a sneak attack as the robed man brought his wooden walking staff to bear on the back of his head. He landed with a thud but this alerted the others and postponed Cynder's demise.
“You!” The assassin holding Sparx spat. “Destroy him! I have to report to Faranthia!” He said with a notion to his bag full of dragonfly.
“Yu should have stayed with your mastah!” The figure said in a thick accented voice that betrayed his advanced age.
The other six assassins converged on the mysterious savior. Quickly the stranger whipped a small potion off his rope belt and threw it on the ground. The contents flash froze to ice on the tile ground causing the assassins to slip at the unexpected change in footing. The man took his chance and cracked one assassin in the head while he was down, rendering him unconscious. He barely sidestepped the next attack as the assassin slashed at him with his stiletto, cutting hairs off his beard.
“It is you who should have stayed in Törg old man!” The assassin spat. A second later the assassin stabbed into a wall unaware of how close they had been or where the mysterious stranger was leading him. It was too late before the old man had hit him in the stomach with his walking stick and in one fluid motion brought brunt of the stick on his head.
Enraged, the other four attacked lunged at the old man. He noticed this and made a swift roll to counter them. Two landed beside him only to be hit with balls of blue fire magically fired from each respective end of his stick. Another assassin grabbed him from behind and put him in a choke hold causing him to drop his staff.
“Kill him!” He ordered at the only assassin left. The robed menace drove his dagger straight for the stranger only to miss when he went dead weight causing the assassin holding him to become the target for his dagger. The assassin gasped at what happened and dropped the dagger now plunged in his master's face.
“I deed not mean for that-” The old man began to talk to the younger assassin who was shocked and horrified by his action before he was suddenly impaled from the back by Cynder's tail blade. He wretched and spurted black ink-like icor as the blade came out his chest covered in obsidian ooze and yelped as she withdrew this back through him. He fell to the ground in a splatter of 'blood' with a new hole in his chest. Gurgled weakly and ceased moving.
- - -
My mind was cleared but my vision was returning to me. I had only been able to watch my rescuer fend off the assassins while I was incapacitated as I tried to marshal my strength to stand back up. I would not be much help but I channeled what little reserves of focus I had and impaled the last assassin.
With them defeated I felt my strength and vitality return to me in waves. I blinked several times and could see normally again. That's when I saw the bodies... how they melted into black ooze that steamed and evaporated before my very eyes. A moment later and it was as if they were never there except for a black sickly stain on the ground.
“C-cyndah...” An aged voice croaked weakly behind me. I looked and saw my savior. An old man, much shorter than me but far older by the sound of his voice. His brown robe was little more than tatters with stitched patches with a rope belt which dangled a handful of small colorful vials of foreign liquid.
“Thank you. For saving me.” I said still fatigued from whatever spell those assassins had placed on me.
He picked up his stick, a well worn walking stick with several carved runes on it. It looked as though he had owned it since before I was born. He started to speak but erupted in a coughing fit. He buckled as his hood jerked with each violent cough. Thinking on my feet I turned a stool upright so he could sit on it. He wordlessly sat down and took in several labored breaths.
“I am sorry Cyndah. Fighting like dat is... taxing on deez old bones. I had been following dem for a while.”
Do you know them?” I asked still unsure what to make of this man and whether he was friend or foe.
“Not personally. I asked de spirits to lead me to you. Den I learned Faranthia's assassins were coming across de oshun to Avalar.”
I jumped back when he said Faranthia- expecting the same pain and disorientation as before but this time nothing happened. “Who are you? Who's... Faranthia? And why were you looking for me? Why'd they take Sparx! Where'd they take Sparx?!”
“I will tell you all you desire Cyndah.” The stranger reached his wrinkled hands and removed his hood. I was disappointed as I expected to know this person but alas his face was foreign. He was an ape, the same tribe that served in Malefor's army at my command. He was old, old enough to be old at the time Spyro and I became trapped in the Well of Souls. He had no hair save for his gray ape fur but had an unkempt flowing beard that stretched to his waist and probably further if he had a hunch back from his age. He also sported an eye patch over his left eye on his wrinkled face.
“You do not recognize me.... I tot as such, I can see it in yow eyes, you do not belong to Malefor anymore. I am called, Ubuntu. I was a sorcerer in Malefor's army even before you ever came to de battlefield. Faranthia is why I came to find you in fact. I come from the land of Törg, across the ocean, a land currently under the terrible threat of Faranthia herself. If you do not know me then you do not know Faranthia. Cyndah- she was your spymaster and favorite assassin now turned aspiring tyrant. We in Törg live in fear of her and her army of abominations!” He spoke in a deliberate, gravely and all around mystic tone.
“So.. you want me and Spyro to help?” I presumed cocking my head to the side.
Ubuntu let out a labored sigh through his simian nostrils as he looked up at me with his one eye. “No. Spyro has hez own path. Dis is more dan me Cyndah. Dis is for you too. Can you not feel it wit all your soul dat there are malevolent forces just outside our periphery. I can see into yow heart Cyndah. Hearing her name has just now reawakened dem. It is not just Faranthia. Seven sins, seven atrocities worse than the rest. Committed by Malefor but done by your hands and regardless the weight of their torment weighs on your soul. You can hear them now can you? Their screams on the winds, crying out in fear, pain, malice and wrath. If you do not end their suffering it will overflow and inflict great harm on all. Listen Cyndah, not wit yow ears but wit yow soul....”
I took a step back from the man's prattling. How could this be? I remember no Faranthia, no Ubuntu and not this Törg land. But now I could hear something, faint almost unnoticeable if I had remained ignorant. When I tuned out the noise of the city I could hear it. Faint screaming of men and women barely audible on the winds, almost as if it was not actually there but in my own head.
“That's their souls Cyndah. Crying out for an ending to their suffering. And you're the only one who can do it... I can help yu do dis.”
- - -
“What do you mean Sparx is gone?!” Spyro yelled in panic, his eyes wide with worry. His brother and closest friend was not to be found after the smoke died down. Not long after me and Ubuntu's conversation the Council police with Spyro and some League knights arrived to assess the situation. The indignant loathing of the League personnel having found me at this situation was palpable.
“These assassins tried to kill me Spyro and they took Sparx in a sneak attack!” I said back to him. He was barely holding back his panic. I knew this was not a healthy situation for him considering his recent confession.
“Assassins? What assassins and how did they get the drop on you?”
I took a step back. I felt the prick his words like a mosquito bite. “They- they-.”
“Spyro. De assassins were de Ink Skulls, Faranthia's servants that she creates in her cathedral. She has many servants.” Ubuntu piped up in his elderly grumble but obviously trying to diffuse Spyro.
“And who's this guy? Who's Faranthia?” Spyro queried raising his brow.
I paused. “This is... Ubuntu. He saved me from the assassins. He was a sorcerer in Malefor's army. He said he's come to help.” I cooed trying to ease the purple dragon.
Spyro turned and looked at Ubuntu who still sat on the same bench. The police tried to escort him out but we intervened. So they had to work around us. The old ape returned Spyro's glance with his one eye.
“What did you do in Malefor's army?” Spyro asked with more than a little mistrust on his words.
I cringed but Ubuntu did not seem to squirm. He either came to terms with what he did or was too old to care about Spyro's spite. “I was a demon summoner for Gaul. Gaul would have me channel demons and spirits through me so he could make deals or gather strategic advice from beyond de grave.”
“So you unleashed demons on the battlefield. What else did you do?” Spyro said with a muted horror crossed with shock.
There was a pregnant pause as Ubuntu thought to himself. “I...” His one eye glanced at me. “I was one of de mages who channeled Malefor into you Cyndah.”
Before I had time to register what he had actually said Spyro was upon the old man in a purple flash. Spyro pinned Ubuntu to the wall with his muscular foreleg. The elderly ape choked and grunted in pain. “So you did that to her! Give me a reason why I shouldn't crush you right now-” Spyro spat in resolute rage.
Ubuntu... had been one of the mages who enchanted me with Malefor turning me into his puppet. I felt sick, violated and confused. The feeling of violation at being ensorcerered as a newborn to do Malefor's will with the help of Ubuntu and his fellow mages. He was the reason my life would never be normal. I wanted to feel rage. Burning and terrible rage that would overflow into a wrath so great that I could simply destroy the old ape to his soul.
But I could not...
Try as I may I only saw the helpless old man under Spyro's crushing force. A pathetic, enfeelbed old man. But why had he saved me? Why had he sought me out to tell me of Faranthia and the seven suffering in Törg? Why would he tell the truth knowing Spyro's wrath would be instant? These questions made me beg Spyro's mercy.
“Because- Spyro- I came to make amends. And you're not a murderer.” Ubuntu choked out. The police and League goons were starting to take notice to our scene.
“Spyro stop!” I pleaded with the purple dragon. He was barring his teeth at Ubuntu.
“Spyro, yu are hurting. Faranthia's creatures- took Sparx thinking Cyndah would follow.”
Spyro pushed into the wall again eliciting an eek from Ubuntu. “Who is Faranthia? Starting talking.”
I grabbed Spyro's shoulder and threw him back, freeing Ubuntu who gasped for air when he hit the ground with a thud. Spyro backpedaled and glared at me taking heavy breathes.
“Spyro- Faranthia was one of Malefor's generals under me, an assassin. Apparently when I was under Malefor's spell I committed seven atrocities in Törg and those seven are about to wreak havoc across that land unless I can put them to rest.” I paraphrased to Spyro who simply took deep breaths in quiet anger only stopping to glare at Ubuntu.
“What if it's a trap Cynder? What if he's lying. What if he works for Faranthia?” Spyro remarked with a stomp of frustration.
“Why would he lie Spyro? I was helpless when the assassins said her name for the first time. If he wanted me dead he could have just stayed away and I'd be dead and Sparx would still be kidnapped.”
Spyro flinched when I said that. I must have plucked a cord in his psyche. His breathing became lighter and his shoulders lowered. “... All I know is that Sparx is kidnapped and you were attacked. Ubuntu might have saved you but we don't know everything- and he was one of the mages that gave you to Malefor. What if he's lying about these seven- whatchamacallits and it's a ploy to get you to Faranthia? What if Faranthia isn't even real?”
“What if he's telling the truth Spyro. If he's being truthful then Törg is in danger. If the seven destroy Törg their rampage could come to Avalar!”
There was an awkward pause as a stillness came over all of us. Then I noticed the police, League and civilians behind barricades that were watching this developing scene. Had they been privy to this whole debacle?
“It seems we have been noticed. Perhaps we should retire to a more... private place for des conversations.” Ubuntu coughed, holding himself upright with his walking stick.
Spyro and I exchanged glances. The frustration and anger in his eyes was fleeting only to give way to the panic and worry about his kidnapped brother and words of these sinister seven on the horizon.
There was a pregnant pause before Spyro spoke up and with a resolve I had not expected. “He's right.” He said and turned to the Council lieutenant. “Cuff the wizard and bring him to the temple. We can talk there.”
“I will not fight you officer. I will go peacefully. Hopefully a sign of good faith to Spyro.” Ubuntu said to the officer who cuffed him nervously.
Category Story / Fanart
Species Western Dragon
Gender Multiple characters
Size 82 x 120px
Listed in Folders
Awww thank you so much! It really makes me happy to know people like the story ^___^
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