FA+
Shop
820
Views
Views
0
Favorites
Favorites
Category
Story / Fanart
Species Western Dragon
Gender Multiple characters
Size 82 x 120
File Size 58.5 kB
More from Lyle--Gelbfur
Listed in Folders
File type: Word Document(.doc) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
Sorry about the wait. I hope you all had a happy Christmas and happy new year :3 Chapters should come faster now.
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
“Departure? For Törg? So soon?” Cyril gawked in disbelief. The day had gone on in an incessant haze of trepidation. I did not want to leave for Törg, to leave Spyro. Come to think of it, perhaps I suffered similar problems as Spyro. The prospect of fighting was not what made me agonize however, it was being apart. We had been together nearly everyday for almost two years. I never knew how much I came to relying on him to simply be there everyday. The thought of leaving him made my stomach wrench in agony as though my stomach was about to evacuate its contents. I could only imagine how Spyro felt.
The guardians had arrived not long ago but the day was well on its way to giving in to dusk. We informed them about everything from Sparx's kidnapping to these Seven people from my past who were ravaging Törg.
“I had heard rumor Törg was in a bit of turmoil but I just figured that was normal.” Terrador rumbled and exchanged glances at his fellow sages.
“Normal?” Spyro asked? He sounded worried but was trying to steel himself.
Volteer answered. “Yes quite. We in Avalar are lucky you see. Törg is a war torn quagmire of violence and despair. Even before Malefor, the region was always under the tumultuous rule of this warlord and that warlord. They never quite got the organization and stability we have in Avalar.”
'Stability' rang in my brain like a string snapping on a harp. I would consider Avalar's current stability tenuous at best. If Törg made Avalar look stable I could only imagine the anarchy that place must be in.
“But then again the torgonauts argue that their hectic environment is what makes them flourish.” Cyril began but used 'torgonaut' erroneously. Thanks to Ubuntu I knew torgonauts were the extinct former masters of Törg the region. “They're a country of inventors, tinkerers and mad scientists. That's why they boast technology far greater than ours and their neighbors. Plus their mountains and forests give them ample resources to experiment.”
“Is that all you know about Törg?” I asked the trio of guardians who exchanged curious glances with one another.
“I'm right here you know.” Ubuntu quipped in his rich accent gesturing that he would know all we needed to know about Törg. Funny, jokes are the last thing I expected out of the old ape sorcerer.
“Then tell us about Törg mister... Ubuntu.” Terrador rumbled with undertone of distrust.
The elderly ape rolled closer to us at the table. He had elected to using his wheelchair from earlier. We let him out of his cell but he insisted he had nowhere to go around our home and simply rested.
“Törg is a wild land governed by the right of might. We do not have a Council that governs the land through words and taxes. The closest thing we have to a king would be Konan the Mighty. He is the most powerful warlord in Törg and his army controls the ancient city of Anvil and the outlying farmlands. Beyond Anvil is the Iron Coast where Törg's cities lie. Oreburg, Ash and Will's Mill dot the Iron Coast, each controlled by its citizenry and independent of nation and state.”
“It sounds the people of Törg really value their individuality.” Spyro commented taking full interest in Ubuntu's tale.
The old ape nodded. “Dis is true. Independence is in our blood. Everyone in Törg has chosen dangerous and beautifully chaotic freedom over being beholden to a ruler. But it is not dat easy. To survive in Törg you must be willing to impose your will on others as with everywhere else in this world. Other will seek to impose their will on you and you must be willing to fight and destroy if you are to retain your freedom. Dis is why you hear of endless regional conflicts. But to us dey are not conflicts but a way of life. Life free or die.”
“I've heard of these conflicts long ago. Grim tales of warlords and tribes clashing over land and resources.” Terrador next commented.
“You are correct but does the same not happen here. I too have heard word of food riots in Warfang not long ago. Wit all due respect Terrador, your government and society is an illusion. A social contract your people are born into accepting. The people of Törg simply developed a different way. We never accepted the illusion of social order. There is only the dominator and the dominated.”
Ubuntu spoke with such conviction but the oddest part of all was that he made sense. When one swatted away the smoke and fog of our society and truly looked it was clear to see all social interaction was merely a platitude both sides adhered to. I remembered the food riots in Warfang, when the persons mortal needs had failed to be attained through society- it crumbled and gave way to chaos. That chaos, the chaos of the embattled city district must be how the people of Törg lived everyday. The chaos, fighting and need to survive, it molded the citizens of Törg, shaped them into survivors and hardened them.
Warfang and Avalar as a whole seemed to be on a predisposed path to the antithesis to Anvil. People were controlled here in mind and body so long as the machine of society kept pace. That's what Chancellor Heidi and the League really fought to maintain: the social order.
But was such chaos and despair really worth abject freedom? Was control of mind and body really worth surviving? Where was the balance to it all? I felt like Spyro and I were on a coin with only two heads; absolute freedom that devolved into chaos or absolute control that devolved into slavery. We needed a third option. The side of the coin so to speak.
“Tell us about Törg during the Malefor War.” Spyro asked Ubuntu and unknowingly snapped me out of my reverie. I returned my attention to Ubuntu's tale.
“Witout te guardians, Cynder...” Ubuntu trailed off while casting me a non-accusatory before he amended his statement. … “Under the control of Malefor, had little reason to stay long in Törg. But she did make sure everyone knew of her and to fear her. She gave the warlords of Törg an ultimatum: join or die. The warlords that joined, joined. Dat was when I joined in a reckless pursuit of power. The next months were spent tracking and eliminating the warlords who defied Cynder and enslaving the people to mine for iron and saw lumber. Once the rebel warlords were vanquished Cynder betrayed her warlords and had them slaughtered to the last man. What soldiers were left were put under Gaul and Gaul alone. Cynder would ravage the land a while longer searching for the guardians- it is at this time you met Faranthia.”
I sat forward keenly interested at the mention of Faranthia. “Really?! How?”
Ubuntu sat back in his wheelchair, stroking his white beard in contemplation. “It was after de siege of Anvil. You were hosting a feast-”
“A feast? That doesn't sound evil.” I injected curiously.
Ubuntu shook his head. “It was a tactic you and Gaul would use to subdue the citizens of a conquered city. Starvation. You two took all the food and held it from the populace until they swore fealty to you and swore to fight under Gaul. When their psyches broke from their hunger or their childrens' hunger they would swear loyalty and you would let them eat a pittance.”
I felt a black hatred of myself break loose inside me. I cringed and averted my gaze from Ubuntu. He may have been complicit as well but it still did nothing to alleviate the loathing of the cruel beast I had been. I told myself over and over it was not my will, I was just as much a slave as the soldiers in Gaul's horde but my efforts were in vain. That was until Spyro wordlessly placed his paw on mine. I looked at the purple dragon who returned my look. He knew this hurt to hear.
“Faranthia was a youngling dragon who had managed to sneak past all the guards and into your personal larder. However she was discovered by you in person. I almost felt bad for the child, I thought you or Gaul would have her lashed or impaled. Instead, you saw potential in her. You took her under your wing and putting her talents for stealth to use, made her your royal assassin. Gaul was not pleased but there was little he could do.
“So... that's how she became my assassin. I spared her life.” Ironic.
The old aped nodded halfheartedly. “Yes and no. She was a slave nonetheless. Not enough food, rest and the like. You still punished her for her intrusion by sending her on long missions into the frozen wastes for weeks on end. When that was not an option you would make her stand awake for days on end in a cage. Only letting her collapse when she approached-”
“Please- no more. I can't.” I whimpered brokenly, folding my wings over my face. The hatred for my past self seemed to morph into a black river that threatened to take me under if I heard more. The torture I inflicted- on a pet slave. I could only imagine what I did to my enemies then.
Ubuntu paused. “I am sorry. But Cynder.”
“She said she's heard enough!” Spyro barked and draped his orange webbed wings over my back. I still could not show my face.
Ubuntu and the guardians were quiet.
“Spyro...” Ubuntu began soberly. “It was not my intention to hurt you or Cynder. But these intense emotions are what is manifesting the Seven. If Cynder is to defeat their lingering spirits she must confront these feelings and make peace with them or else her negativity will make them stronger and their souls will never know peace.”
I sniffled and perked up, lowering my wings a little. Spyro was glaring at Ubuntu. “B-but why me? How come my emotions are bringing the Seven back from the dead? Every dragon feels strong emotion, why don't they have the same effect?” I asked trying to come back to the conversation and ease Spyro.
Ubuntu sat back and tugged at his beard. Unsure.
“I think we can answer that Cynder.” Cyril began. “Dragons are inherently magic creatures and even the meekest dragon boasts great reserves of magical powers he or she may be unaware of.”
“And you and Spyro are far from the meekest of dragons. It stands to reason that your strong emotions of guilt and regret could somehow call these Seven deceased souls from the afterlife as some sort of beacon to come back to our world.” Volteer added.
“But even then I don't remember anything quite like this in the histories of dragon lore. In the few stories I've read only purple dragon masters had the ability to bring things back to life and even then it took most of their strength.” Terrador interjected.
“That is because Cynder has not brought anything back to life.” Ubuntu said coldly and brought all eyes back to him.
“The Seven are manifestations of Cynder's strong emotions that have taken their form from seven people she unconsciously remembered from her days when she was under Malefor's control. The Faranthia that haunts Törg now is but a phantasm from your mind Cynder. The real Faranthia has been dead for several years....”
“What?!” We all exclaimed more or less in unison surprise.
“How did Faranthia die?” I asked. I more or less knew it was because of me but I had to know.
“Near the time Spyro came into the picture, you had sent Faranthia on a mission to capture Ignitus. Whether it was an intentional farce or not, Faranthia failed and was defeated by Ignitus. When Ignitus saw how weak she was he refused to deliver the killing blow, he said he refused to slay a helpless foe. When she returned to you in failure you... you tore her wings off and ripped her heart out. Right there in the throne room.... and to top it all off you had her thrown into the Avernus Abyss.
His words hit me like a hammer but I tried to be strong. I needed to hear this if I was ever going to overcome these horrors.
“Avernus?” I said meekly, trying to not be mired in the creeping thoughts.
“Avernus Abyss is a giant whirlpool in Törg's mountains. Legend says it leads straight to the underworld. But that is only legend. It is impossible to explore the abyss as the rushing waters and jagged rocks in the whirlpool are deadly to even sea-bound creatures.”
A horrified silence blanketed the room. Shocked into silence. Had I really condemned Faranthia to that nightmare. Maybe her hatred towards me was justified but if Ubuntu's words were correct than the Faranthia that orchestrated the market attack was but a poltergeist conjured by my negative emotions. The real Faranthia was at the bottom of that abyss.
“How do we stop these ghosts then? Do I just have to fix my emotions or what?” I asked trying to restart the conversation. I wanted to have sympathy for Faranthia but if she was dead then now we only have shades to contend with and shades were not people.
“It is not dat simple Cynder. They are physically manifested in our world. They can be physically destroyed as well. The armies of Törg have accomplished this several times with the lesser of the Seven but as long as you are not there to re-obtain your memories from them then they will simply return and continue their rampage. You will have to destroy their physical forms for you to get your memory. Once you have the memory you must come to terms with the horrors and live or be crushed forever...”
“How do you know all of this?” Terrador asked quizzically.
“When the Seven first appeared in Törg the armies fought them like normal enemies but when they kept coming back, Konan sought me out and asked for my help. When I saw one of them for the first time I heard only screaming and whaling in the air. The helpless moaning of the discarded and the damned. And they were screaming for Cynder. Konan or his troops could not hear it and he cast me aside as a charlatan mystic. Young fool had no idea who I was. That's when I went to personally find Faranthia and after she cast me out, then I went to Avalar for you.”
I took a moment to digest Ubuntu's stories. I had heard that screaming, faint as it was, at the marketplace. I knew I had to go to Törg and put these seven to rest. If not for myself then for Sparx. If Faranthia had Sparx captured then saving him was the utmost objective. As for the question if Ubuntu was indeed fabricating all of this with intricate illusions, it mattered little.
“We'll go tomorrow.”I said matter-of-factly.
“But what of the Council Cynder? They should be told where you are going in case. Or at least let the League know-” Cyril babbled nervously before I interrupted him.
“That could take days to get a hold of Heidi and the less the League knows of my whereabouts the better. Sparx is in danger and we can't be wasting time. I'm leaving tomorrow at daybreak and that is that.” I proclaimed with a little rise in my voice.
Everyone fell silent until the elder cyan ice dragon relented. “...Very well Cynder. I suppose you know your path best. You two are adults now, we can only advise.” He said and meekly pawed at the wood floor.
“If Cynder's mind is set then it would be best to adjourn for the night. Cynder will need her rest for the flight to Törg at sunrise.” Volteer added while trying to mask his indignation at being told the plan by the younger generation.
- - -
I watched the full moon rise over the plains and bathe it in a pale white light which cast dark shadows behind the scarce cliffs and hills. The meeting had adjourned swiftly and with little else said. Terrador had remarked to me how Cree was still gone but after me and Spyro admitted to not seeing her either he assumed she was off on her own errands. She was an adult after all. But still he worried as fathers do.
I could not sleep. Thoughts of seven horrors rampaging around the alien land of Törg. Horrors, born of my own repressed emotions, guilt, fear, anger and sadness. The guardians had been right on one thing: This is not normal. Everyone has ghosts of their pasts but why were mine the ones manifesting themselves as angry phantasms? Stepping back I could see there were pieces of this puzzle that had not fallen into place. Ubuntu may not have divulged the full tale, he may not even know if all himself. But I would find these pieces and would find who could be pulling the strings.
“Cynder? Are you coming to bed?” Spyro asked from his curled up spot on our mattress.
I let out a sigh I had not realized I was holding and turned to the sleepy purple dragon. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind is all. Big day tomorrow.”
I stepped on the mattress and kneaded it with my black scaled paws a little before curling up myself. The mattress was soft yet build to hold a young dragon's weight and not deform over time. It smelled like Spyro oddly.
I laid my head down on a pillow and closed my eyes but still my mind race with thoughts of suspicion and treachery. My brow furrowed until I could not take it anymore.
“What will you do Spyro? While I'm gone.” I whispered, hoping he was still awake. Perhaps conversation NOT about the Seven would distract me long enough to fall asleep.
Spyro let out a slight snort and opened his violet eyes after a few blinks. “I guess I'll go with the guardians to the First Flame. Better than sitting here worrying about you and Sparx. Maybe I'll get to apply what the mentalist told me as well.”
I felt that odd sensation of agony at the thought of us parting although blunted by fatigue now. I hoped what the mentalist had told Spyro would indeed help him. I could not bare the thought of Malefor tainting the young dragon's psyche beyond repair. This conjured unpleasant pseudo-memories of Spyro becoming a recluse, too afraid to ever fight again. I countered those scenarios with ones of my own. If Spyro was indeed too fragmented to fight then I would take him from Avalar, the League, the Council, the politicians, the danger. We would live humble lives far, far away from Avalar but I would see Spyro happy and preserved until his dying day.
But even I knew better than to think he'd go anywhere without Sparx.
“I'm going to get him back Spyro.” I reassured my purple dragon with a nuzzle to his cheek.
“I know you will Cynder.”
- - -
The time had come. I had drifted to sleep and awoken several hours later. Not relaxed but oddly rested. I had to strike while the was iron hot. It was now or never. In the darkness of our room I began packing supplies and a saddle for Ubuntu. It was a gift from Hunter as he wanted to test his marksmanship in air one day but today it would be Ubuntu's saddle.
“You're going this earlier?” Spyro stirred and whispered in dull surprise. Still lying on the bed but now more attentive after some hours of sleep. Dawn would not be for a few more hours but I had slept all I could. I knew this would be like removing a bandage. If we waiting for the elders to wake then they would cost me daylight with their well-intentioned but ultimately useless prattling. My mind was set and it had to happen now.
“Yes Spyro. The guardians don't want me to go or they want to get me an entourage and a hundred different things. I.. we just don't have the time for that. And-”
Spyro stopped my packing, having risen out of bed while my back was turned. He caressed my cheek with his paw. “I understand. The guardians mean well but this is your fight. I just wish I could go with you.”
“I wish you could too. But Ubuntu said you're part of my future, the Seven are from my past and I have to put the past to rest. For good.”
“I know.” Spyro's gaze turned down for a moment before the purple dragon steeled himself. “I'm going to be strong for you two. I'm sorry I let myself become so weak these past few years.”
I draped a maroon webbed wing over my dragon. “Hey..” I began softly. “Don't be sorry. Be strong. We don't have to live our lives being sorry forever. We've made mistakes but I'm not going to let the few mistakes define us. When I put these ghosts to rest and make peace with my past, we will live for the future Spyro, I promise.” I spoke with conviction I honestly did not think I possessed. But I meant it. Every word. My past atrocities hurt me everyday to think of and some days I would be crushed by them. Ubuntu offered me a way to start to get out from under them and I would take it no matter the cost. I was tired of hating myself for crimes I had no true stake in. It was time to let the past go. Forever.
Spyro gave me a weak but hopeful smile. He believed me, in me but he was still struggling himself. Once this was over I internally promised to devote all my resources to helping him and step one was rescuing his brother. “It's a deal. For the future then.”
“For the future.” I replied. I gently held Spyro's head and kissed him. This would be the last time we would see each other so I wanted to make this one count. I never felt like a good kisser but dammit I was going to try. The room was silent for the remainder of our liplock until I backed away and we opened our eyes. I did not have to tell him I loved him or vice versa. I just did.
“Tell them I was gone before you woke up if you wish.” I said nonchalantly and opened the door to the hallway.
Spyro nodded. “Remember Cynder, for the future.”
The hardest part was leaving that door. Such an overwhelming feeling of loss and longing cascaded over me I thought I might rush back into our room and damn the Seven, Törg and Ubuntu. Come what may we would have each other! But I had to go, the Seven had to be stopped if we were to have a future worth having. But ancestors it hurt to leave.
Each step was more painful than the last but eventually I entered the lobby where I found Ubuntu of all people standing in the dimly lit room. MIHI must switch the lights to a lower function when the inhabitants are asleep to conserve power.
The old ape had forgone his wheelchair now for his old wooden staff that doubled as his walking stick.
“Cindah. Are you ready to depart?” He whispered in a gravely rumble.
“How did you know?” I asked cocking my head.
“I know you Cindah. Your elders mean well but they will never understand us. Do not hold it against dem.”
I did not reply. Instead we wordlessly exited through the sliding doors to the fountain area. Ubuntu tried to climb on my back but in his advanced age he was not nimble enough to mount. So I wrapped him with my tail and placed him on the saddle so he could buckle himself in. I stretched my wings to prepare for a long flight. While me and Spyro could 'fly' during our fight with Malefor our wings were not quite large enough for sustained transcontinental flight but now I could reach something approaching that. I began running fast, flapping my wings with more power in each successive flap until I finally had wind beneath my wings to take off proper. With a final push of my dragon wings I finally left the earth and flew off into the sky and the coming dawn.
Chapter 4
Chapter 6
“Departure? For Törg? So soon?” Cyril gawked in disbelief. The day had gone on in an incessant haze of trepidation. I did not want to leave for Törg, to leave Spyro. Come to think of it, perhaps I suffered similar problems as Spyro. The prospect of fighting was not what made me agonize however, it was being apart. We had been together nearly everyday for almost two years. I never knew how much I came to relying on him to simply be there everyday. The thought of leaving him made my stomach wrench in agony as though my stomach was about to evacuate its contents. I could only imagine how Spyro felt.
The guardians had arrived not long ago but the day was well on its way to giving in to dusk. We informed them about everything from Sparx's kidnapping to these Seven people from my past who were ravaging Törg.
“I had heard rumor Törg was in a bit of turmoil but I just figured that was normal.” Terrador rumbled and exchanged glances at his fellow sages.
“Normal?” Spyro asked? He sounded worried but was trying to steel himself.
Volteer answered. “Yes quite. We in Avalar are lucky you see. Törg is a war torn quagmire of violence and despair. Even before Malefor, the region was always under the tumultuous rule of this warlord and that warlord. They never quite got the organization and stability we have in Avalar.”
'Stability' rang in my brain like a string snapping on a harp. I would consider Avalar's current stability tenuous at best. If Törg made Avalar look stable I could only imagine the anarchy that place must be in.
“But then again the torgonauts argue that their hectic environment is what makes them flourish.” Cyril began but used 'torgonaut' erroneously. Thanks to Ubuntu I knew torgonauts were the extinct former masters of Törg the region. “They're a country of inventors, tinkerers and mad scientists. That's why they boast technology far greater than ours and their neighbors. Plus their mountains and forests give them ample resources to experiment.”
“Is that all you know about Törg?” I asked the trio of guardians who exchanged curious glances with one another.
“I'm right here you know.” Ubuntu quipped in his rich accent gesturing that he would know all we needed to know about Törg. Funny, jokes are the last thing I expected out of the old ape sorcerer.
“Then tell us about Törg mister... Ubuntu.” Terrador rumbled with undertone of distrust.
The elderly ape rolled closer to us at the table. He had elected to using his wheelchair from earlier. We let him out of his cell but he insisted he had nowhere to go around our home and simply rested.
“Törg is a wild land governed by the right of might. We do not have a Council that governs the land through words and taxes. The closest thing we have to a king would be Konan the Mighty. He is the most powerful warlord in Törg and his army controls the ancient city of Anvil and the outlying farmlands. Beyond Anvil is the Iron Coast where Törg's cities lie. Oreburg, Ash and Will's Mill dot the Iron Coast, each controlled by its citizenry and independent of nation and state.”
“It sounds the people of Törg really value their individuality.” Spyro commented taking full interest in Ubuntu's tale.
The old ape nodded. “Dis is true. Independence is in our blood. Everyone in Törg has chosen dangerous and beautifully chaotic freedom over being beholden to a ruler. But it is not dat easy. To survive in Törg you must be willing to impose your will on others as with everywhere else in this world. Other will seek to impose their will on you and you must be willing to fight and destroy if you are to retain your freedom. Dis is why you hear of endless regional conflicts. But to us dey are not conflicts but a way of life. Life free or die.”
“I've heard of these conflicts long ago. Grim tales of warlords and tribes clashing over land and resources.” Terrador next commented.
“You are correct but does the same not happen here. I too have heard word of food riots in Warfang not long ago. Wit all due respect Terrador, your government and society is an illusion. A social contract your people are born into accepting. The people of Törg simply developed a different way. We never accepted the illusion of social order. There is only the dominator and the dominated.”
Ubuntu spoke with such conviction but the oddest part of all was that he made sense. When one swatted away the smoke and fog of our society and truly looked it was clear to see all social interaction was merely a platitude both sides adhered to. I remembered the food riots in Warfang, when the persons mortal needs had failed to be attained through society- it crumbled and gave way to chaos. That chaos, the chaos of the embattled city district must be how the people of Törg lived everyday. The chaos, fighting and need to survive, it molded the citizens of Törg, shaped them into survivors and hardened them.
Warfang and Avalar as a whole seemed to be on a predisposed path to the antithesis to Anvil. People were controlled here in mind and body so long as the machine of society kept pace. That's what Chancellor Heidi and the League really fought to maintain: the social order.
But was such chaos and despair really worth abject freedom? Was control of mind and body really worth surviving? Where was the balance to it all? I felt like Spyro and I were on a coin with only two heads; absolute freedom that devolved into chaos or absolute control that devolved into slavery. We needed a third option. The side of the coin so to speak.
“Tell us about Törg during the Malefor War.” Spyro asked Ubuntu and unknowingly snapped me out of my reverie. I returned my attention to Ubuntu's tale.
“Witout te guardians, Cynder...” Ubuntu trailed off while casting me a non-accusatory before he amended his statement. … “Under the control of Malefor, had little reason to stay long in Törg. But she did make sure everyone knew of her and to fear her. She gave the warlords of Törg an ultimatum: join or die. The warlords that joined, joined. Dat was when I joined in a reckless pursuit of power. The next months were spent tracking and eliminating the warlords who defied Cynder and enslaving the people to mine for iron and saw lumber. Once the rebel warlords were vanquished Cynder betrayed her warlords and had them slaughtered to the last man. What soldiers were left were put under Gaul and Gaul alone. Cynder would ravage the land a while longer searching for the guardians- it is at this time you met Faranthia.”
I sat forward keenly interested at the mention of Faranthia. “Really?! How?”
Ubuntu sat back in his wheelchair, stroking his white beard in contemplation. “It was after de siege of Anvil. You were hosting a feast-”
“A feast? That doesn't sound evil.” I injected curiously.
Ubuntu shook his head. “It was a tactic you and Gaul would use to subdue the citizens of a conquered city. Starvation. You two took all the food and held it from the populace until they swore fealty to you and swore to fight under Gaul. When their psyches broke from their hunger or their childrens' hunger they would swear loyalty and you would let them eat a pittance.”
I felt a black hatred of myself break loose inside me. I cringed and averted my gaze from Ubuntu. He may have been complicit as well but it still did nothing to alleviate the loathing of the cruel beast I had been. I told myself over and over it was not my will, I was just as much a slave as the soldiers in Gaul's horde but my efforts were in vain. That was until Spyro wordlessly placed his paw on mine. I looked at the purple dragon who returned my look. He knew this hurt to hear.
“Faranthia was a youngling dragon who had managed to sneak past all the guards and into your personal larder. However she was discovered by you in person. I almost felt bad for the child, I thought you or Gaul would have her lashed or impaled. Instead, you saw potential in her. You took her under your wing and putting her talents for stealth to use, made her your royal assassin. Gaul was not pleased but there was little he could do.
“So... that's how she became my assassin. I spared her life.” Ironic.
The old aped nodded halfheartedly. “Yes and no. She was a slave nonetheless. Not enough food, rest and the like. You still punished her for her intrusion by sending her on long missions into the frozen wastes for weeks on end. When that was not an option you would make her stand awake for days on end in a cage. Only letting her collapse when she approached-”
“Please- no more. I can't.” I whimpered brokenly, folding my wings over my face. The hatred for my past self seemed to morph into a black river that threatened to take me under if I heard more. The torture I inflicted- on a pet slave. I could only imagine what I did to my enemies then.
Ubuntu paused. “I am sorry. But Cynder.”
“She said she's heard enough!” Spyro barked and draped his orange webbed wings over my back. I still could not show my face.
Ubuntu and the guardians were quiet.
“Spyro...” Ubuntu began soberly. “It was not my intention to hurt you or Cynder. But these intense emotions are what is manifesting the Seven. If Cynder is to defeat their lingering spirits she must confront these feelings and make peace with them or else her negativity will make them stronger and their souls will never know peace.”
I sniffled and perked up, lowering my wings a little. Spyro was glaring at Ubuntu. “B-but why me? How come my emotions are bringing the Seven back from the dead? Every dragon feels strong emotion, why don't they have the same effect?” I asked trying to come back to the conversation and ease Spyro.
Ubuntu sat back and tugged at his beard. Unsure.
“I think we can answer that Cynder.” Cyril began. “Dragons are inherently magic creatures and even the meekest dragon boasts great reserves of magical powers he or she may be unaware of.”
“And you and Spyro are far from the meekest of dragons. It stands to reason that your strong emotions of guilt and regret could somehow call these Seven deceased souls from the afterlife as some sort of beacon to come back to our world.” Volteer added.
“But even then I don't remember anything quite like this in the histories of dragon lore. In the few stories I've read only purple dragon masters had the ability to bring things back to life and even then it took most of their strength.” Terrador interjected.
“That is because Cynder has not brought anything back to life.” Ubuntu said coldly and brought all eyes back to him.
“The Seven are manifestations of Cynder's strong emotions that have taken their form from seven people she unconsciously remembered from her days when she was under Malefor's control. The Faranthia that haunts Törg now is but a phantasm from your mind Cynder. The real Faranthia has been dead for several years....”
“What?!” We all exclaimed more or less in unison surprise.
“How did Faranthia die?” I asked. I more or less knew it was because of me but I had to know.
“Near the time Spyro came into the picture, you had sent Faranthia on a mission to capture Ignitus. Whether it was an intentional farce or not, Faranthia failed and was defeated by Ignitus. When Ignitus saw how weak she was he refused to deliver the killing blow, he said he refused to slay a helpless foe. When she returned to you in failure you... you tore her wings off and ripped her heart out. Right there in the throne room.... and to top it all off you had her thrown into the Avernus Abyss.
His words hit me like a hammer but I tried to be strong. I needed to hear this if I was ever going to overcome these horrors.
“Avernus?” I said meekly, trying to not be mired in the creeping thoughts.
“Avernus Abyss is a giant whirlpool in Törg's mountains. Legend says it leads straight to the underworld. But that is only legend. It is impossible to explore the abyss as the rushing waters and jagged rocks in the whirlpool are deadly to even sea-bound creatures.”
A horrified silence blanketed the room. Shocked into silence. Had I really condemned Faranthia to that nightmare. Maybe her hatred towards me was justified but if Ubuntu's words were correct than the Faranthia that orchestrated the market attack was but a poltergeist conjured by my negative emotions. The real Faranthia was at the bottom of that abyss.
“How do we stop these ghosts then? Do I just have to fix my emotions or what?” I asked trying to restart the conversation. I wanted to have sympathy for Faranthia but if she was dead then now we only have shades to contend with and shades were not people.
“It is not dat simple Cynder. They are physically manifested in our world. They can be physically destroyed as well. The armies of Törg have accomplished this several times with the lesser of the Seven but as long as you are not there to re-obtain your memories from them then they will simply return and continue their rampage. You will have to destroy their physical forms for you to get your memory. Once you have the memory you must come to terms with the horrors and live or be crushed forever...”
“How do you know all of this?” Terrador asked quizzically.
“When the Seven first appeared in Törg the armies fought them like normal enemies but when they kept coming back, Konan sought me out and asked for my help. When I saw one of them for the first time I heard only screaming and whaling in the air. The helpless moaning of the discarded and the damned. And they were screaming for Cynder. Konan or his troops could not hear it and he cast me aside as a charlatan mystic. Young fool had no idea who I was. That's when I went to personally find Faranthia and after she cast me out, then I went to Avalar for you.”
I took a moment to digest Ubuntu's stories. I had heard that screaming, faint as it was, at the marketplace. I knew I had to go to Törg and put these seven to rest. If not for myself then for Sparx. If Faranthia had Sparx captured then saving him was the utmost objective. As for the question if Ubuntu was indeed fabricating all of this with intricate illusions, it mattered little.
“We'll go tomorrow.”I said matter-of-factly.
“But what of the Council Cynder? They should be told where you are going in case. Or at least let the League know-” Cyril babbled nervously before I interrupted him.
“That could take days to get a hold of Heidi and the less the League knows of my whereabouts the better. Sparx is in danger and we can't be wasting time. I'm leaving tomorrow at daybreak and that is that.” I proclaimed with a little rise in my voice.
Everyone fell silent until the elder cyan ice dragon relented. “...Very well Cynder. I suppose you know your path best. You two are adults now, we can only advise.” He said and meekly pawed at the wood floor.
“If Cynder's mind is set then it would be best to adjourn for the night. Cynder will need her rest for the flight to Törg at sunrise.” Volteer added while trying to mask his indignation at being told the plan by the younger generation.
- - -
I watched the full moon rise over the plains and bathe it in a pale white light which cast dark shadows behind the scarce cliffs and hills. The meeting had adjourned swiftly and with little else said. Terrador had remarked to me how Cree was still gone but after me and Spyro admitted to not seeing her either he assumed she was off on her own errands. She was an adult after all. But still he worried as fathers do.
I could not sleep. Thoughts of seven horrors rampaging around the alien land of Törg. Horrors, born of my own repressed emotions, guilt, fear, anger and sadness. The guardians had been right on one thing: This is not normal. Everyone has ghosts of their pasts but why were mine the ones manifesting themselves as angry phantasms? Stepping back I could see there were pieces of this puzzle that had not fallen into place. Ubuntu may not have divulged the full tale, he may not even know if all himself. But I would find these pieces and would find who could be pulling the strings.
“Cynder? Are you coming to bed?” Spyro asked from his curled up spot on our mattress.
I let out a sigh I had not realized I was holding and turned to the sleepy purple dragon. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind is all. Big day tomorrow.”
I stepped on the mattress and kneaded it with my black scaled paws a little before curling up myself. The mattress was soft yet build to hold a young dragon's weight and not deform over time. It smelled like Spyro oddly.
I laid my head down on a pillow and closed my eyes but still my mind race with thoughts of suspicion and treachery. My brow furrowed until I could not take it anymore.
“What will you do Spyro? While I'm gone.” I whispered, hoping he was still awake. Perhaps conversation NOT about the Seven would distract me long enough to fall asleep.
Spyro let out a slight snort and opened his violet eyes after a few blinks. “I guess I'll go with the guardians to the First Flame. Better than sitting here worrying about you and Sparx. Maybe I'll get to apply what the mentalist told me as well.”
I felt that odd sensation of agony at the thought of us parting although blunted by fatigue now. I hoped what the mentalist had told Spyro would indeed help him. I could not bare the thought of Malefor tainting the young dragon's psyche beyond repair. This conjured unpleasant pseudo-memories of Spyro becoming a recluse, too afraid to ever fight again. I countered those scenarios with ones of my own. If Spyro was indeed too fragmented to fight then I would take him from Avalar, the League, the Council, the politicians, the danger. We would live humble lives far, far away from Avalar but I would see Spyro happy and preserved until his dying day.
But even I knew better than to think he'd go anywhere without Sparx.
“I'm going to get him back Spyro.” I reassured my purple dragon with a nuzzle to his cheek.
“I know you will Cynder.”
- - -
The time had come. I had drifted to sleep and awoken several hours later. Not relaxed but oddly rested. I had to strike while the was iron hot. It was now or never. In the darkness of our room I began packing supplies and a saddle for Ubuntu. It was a gift from Hunter as he wanted to test his marksmanship in air one day but today it would be Ubuntu's saddle.
“You're going this earlier?” Spyro stirred and whispered in dull surprise. Still lying on the bed but now more attentive after some hours of sleep. Dawn would not be for a few more hours but I had slept all I could. I knew this would be like removing a bandage. If we waiting for the elders to wake then they would cost me daylight with their well-intentioned but ultimately useless prattling. My mind was set and it had to happen now.
“Yes Spyro. The guardians don't want me to go or they want to get me an entourage and a hundred different things. I.. we just don't have the time for that. And-”
Spyro stopped my packing, having risen out of bed while my back was turned. He caressed my cheek with his paw. “I understand. The guardians mean well but this is your fight. I just wish I could go with you.”
“I wish you could too. But Ubuntu said you're part of my future, the Seven are from my past and I have to put the past to rest. For good.”
“I know.” Spyro's gaze turned down for a moment before the purple dragon steeled himself. “I'm going to be strong for you two. I'm sorry I let myself become so weak these past few years.”
I draped a maroon webbed wing over my dragon. “Hey..” I began softly. “Don't be sorry. Be strong. We don't have to live our lives being sorry forever. We've made mistakes but I'm not going to let the few mistakes define us. When I put these ghosts to rest and make peace with my past, we will live for the future Spyro, I promise.” I spoke with conviction I honestly did not think I possessed. But I meant it. Every word. My past atrocities hurt me everyday to think of and some days I would be crushed by them. Ubuntu offered me a way to start to get out from under them and I would take it no matter the cost. I was tired of hating myself for crimes I had no true stake in. It was time to let the past go. Forever.
Spyro gave me a weak but hopeful smile. He believed me, in me but he was still struggling himself. Once this was over I internally promised to devote all my resources to helping him and step one was rescuing his brother. “It's a deal. For the future then.”
“For the future.” I replied. I gently held Spyro's head and kissed him. This would be the last time we would see each other so I wanted to make this one count. I never felt like a good kisser but dammit I was going to try. The room was silent for the remainder of our liplock until I backed away and we opened our eyes. I did not have to tell him I loved him or vice versa. I just did.
“Tell them I was gone before you woke up if you wish.” I said nonchalantly and opened the door to the hallway.
Spyro nodded. “Remember Cynder, for the future.”
The hardest part was leaving that door. Such an overwhelming feeling of loss and longing cascaded over me I thought I might rush back into our room and damn the Seven, Törg and Ubuntu. Come what may we would have each other! But I had to go, the Seven had to be stopped if we were to have a future worth having. But ancestors it hurt to leave.
Each step was more painful than the last but eventually I entered the lobby where I found Ubuntu of all people standing in the dimly lit room. MIHI must switch the lights to a lower function when the inhabitants are asleep to conserve power.
The old ape had forgone his wheelchair now for his old wooden staff that doubled as his walking stick.
“Cindah. Are you ready to depart?” He whispered in a gravely rumble.
“How did you know?” I asked cocking my head.
“I know you Cindah. Your elders mean well but they will never understand us. Do not hold it against dem.”
I did not reply. Instead we wordlessly exited through the sliding doors to the fountain area. Ubuntu tried to climb on my back but in his advanced age he was not nimble enough to mount. So I wrapped him with my tail and placed him on the saddle so he could buckle himself in. I stretched my wings to prepare for a long flight. While me and Spyro could 'fly' during our fight with Malefor our wings were not quite large enough for sustained transcontinental flight but now I could reach something approaching that. I began running fast, flapping my wings with more power in each successive flap until I finally had wind beneath my wings to take off proper. With a final push of my dragon wings I finally left the earth and flew off into the sky and the coming dawn.
Category Story / Fanart
Species Western Dragon
Gender Multiple characters
Size 82 x 120px
File Size 58.5 kB
Comments