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Chapter 1
Chapter 3
- - - - -
I slept through the night relatively peacefully. My dreams were often haunted by shapeless shadows of places and distance noise I heard while I had been while in Malefor's thrall. They seemed far away some nights, closer others but I could never understand what they were saying or what they even looked like. The guardians theorize it is some side effect of Malefor's magic that will likely never go away. I hated Malefor for inflicting this on me but he was no more so I was only left with impotent fury for him. The nights where the dreams kept me up were when I could cling to Spyro and be granted a sort of reprieve. Only in the morning now did I really feel the weight of what Spyro had been shouldering to himself for nearly two years only to just now be made privy to it. I had thought I knew Spyro inside and out but apparently the young purple dragon was more adept at hiding his emotions than I, or even he, knew.
“Good morning masters Spyro and Cynder. The time is seven and sixteen minutes morning time.” The artificial female voice chirped from the walls themselves. I rolled over in my bed and saw Spyro was already up and about.
“They forgot to mention MIHI wakes everyone up when the sun breaks the horizon so I asked her to set the alarms back so you could sleep some more.” Spyro said between brushing his teeth.
I grunted to myself and laid back down on one of the nice velveteen pillows. Of course MIHI has alarms. At least it reminded me I meant to deactivate her.
“Did you sleep okay Spyro?” I asked him, stowing my disdain for the home intelligence yet trying not to be patronizing after his confession last night.
Spyro nodded and rinsed his mouth. “I did. I don't know what they made that bed out of but I like it!” He sounded like his normal happy self again...
For better or worse I decided not to linger around the bush. I sat up and stretched my back followed by a deep flex of my wings. “Did... you want to go to Warfang today? Flying we can be there in a matter of hours, by noon maybe. See one of the... doctors.”
Spyro swallowed hard and looked down like an embarrassed youngling whose mother just caught him saying a naughy word. “About that Cynder... Look, I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to get so dramatic. I'm sorry I made you worry. Just ignore me when I get like that. I can handle it.”
“...”
“You know I'm not just going to 'ignore you' when you're obviously suffering Spyro. I care for you I really do and I want you to have help if you need it. Warfang has people who specialize in cases like this.” I gently cooed at my mate. He was closing back on me again.
Spyro stopped me and interrupted trying to reassure me. “Cynder there is no 'case' I'm fine. I just... I just need to toughen up and be a man about this. I'm the purple dragon, I'm supposed to be strong. How will that look if I go with my tail between my legs to some mentalist so he can ask me a bunch of hocus pocus questions.”
I rolled my eyes. “You men are all the same. So proud- this is just like on our way back to Avalar we got lost and you insisted you knew where you were going and refused to ask directions!”
“I did know where we were going!” Spyro paused and refocused after my tangent. “Look- I'm fine Cynder, honestly. If I was hurting, I would tell you..”
I wanted to remind him he had told me but I could read in his body language and his masculinity made him too proud to admit he needed help so I took the woman’s next best route. I wordlessly embraced him and caressed his shoulder and nuzzled his chin. Summoning the most delicate and borderline teary voice I could.
“Please Spyro. I just don't want to see you hurting. Even on the inside. Would you at least talk to one of the doctors? For me?” I whimpered and even sniffled still holding him.
Spyro relented after a moment. I felt his wing fold around me as he returned my nuzzle. “... Okay, I'll talk to them but this doesn't mean I'm some patient-”
“Of course Spyro. Just see what they say.” I did not approve of emotion manipulation but it was for Spyro's good after all. So it was something I would be willing to live with.
- - -
Later we had found Sparx and told him of just our plan to visit Warfang while omitting the finer details of Spyro's doctor appointment. At first he quipped about MIHI being an excessive alarm clock since apparently when she woke him he did not know how to end the dialogue which eventually ended up with her telling the weather, air pressure and so forth.
“Warfang eh? Sure I'll go. I'm sure MIHI will be able to keep the homestead under control. Seeing as she IS the homestead.” Sparx said.
Not long later we came across the other guardians who had convened in the gardens inside the horseshoe design of the temple. In the middle of the garden was a small artificial pond with a flagpole proudly displaying the banner of the Avalar Alliance.
“So you are all departing for Warfang?” Constance said still in her night robes and curlers in her hair. “And here I thought I would have company. Guess heroes don't spend much time at home. If you see my son in Warfang, give him my regards.”
“I actually have no reason to depart for Warfang at the moment. If Spyro and Cynder don't mind I would like to stay here until they return.” Cree announced. Spyro and I exchanged glances when he shrugged in moderate approval.
“Uhh sure I guess. In fact, while we're gone would you look into deactivating MIHI?” I asked the young green dragoness.
“I'm afraid Cree doesn't have that level of clearance Spyro.” Constance interjected. “Cree has visitor clearance which basically means the toilets will flush and the security drones won't deploy to remove her. The guardians and I have guardian clearance which means we can get into MIHI's security suites but only you, Spyro and Sparx have Master clearance or 'Spyro-level' which will allow you access to MIHI's inner matrices.”
Can't we just authorize Cree with our clearance then?” Sparx wondered aloud.
The middle aged fox lady scratched her furry chin. “In theory yes but master clearance isn't something to give out lightly. Once's MIHI is deactivated she will have to be reprogrammed upon reactivation.”
“It's a good thing I don't plan on reactivating her.” I chided. “MIHI-”
The visage of the young blue fairy girl materialized before us over the pond. “Yes master Cynder. How may I be of service?”
“Give Cree master clearance.” I ordered to the machine. The fairy floated as it computed my command before stating. Task complete. Master Cree now has Spyro level clearance.”
“That was simple.” Sparx admonished.
The green dragoness snorted and stood up on all fours. “I'll look into it. Oh and Cynder.... Do be careful with my father. He might be guardian but he is aging. Do try not to put them all through more wear and tear than they need-”
Volteer approached us having finishing conversing with the other guardians who were not privy to our conversation. “Alright everyone are we prepared to disembark on our route to Warfang? We should leave now if we wish to arrive in a timely manner! Chop chop!”
- - -
Cree investigates the Temple...
A good hour had passed since the others departure. Cree had taken it upon herself to explore the temple in her own time. After helping herself to a second breakfast naturally. Constance had retired back to her room to either sleep or write correspondences to the Council. They spoke little besides casual chatter that lacked any real weight. Alone now the temple did seem oddly quiet, even sinister. The floor and walls seemed too sterile like this place was a hospital rather than a home. With nothing more to do, Cree resolved herself to explore as to how to deactivate the MIHI as per Cynder's request. The magical machine seemed to cause the others a level of distress Cree simply did not reciprocate. MIHI neither impressed or alarmed her- save for being an impressive landmark of arcane tech but little more. The young earthy-toned dragon eventually found a maintenance door near the library marked “MIHICS” or “Magically Integrated Home Intelligence Control Suite”
“Spyro-level clearance approved. Access granted.” MIHI chirped in her feminine voice as the runes on the door lit and slid into the wall.
The room inside was cold and dark saved for the muted glow of several arcane runes of magical power responsible for MIHI. Cree felt a breath of trepidation before entering the room with the nagging sensation she was being watched only to have it abate when the room lit up upon her proper entry. The room was smaller than she imagined but was covered in all manners of arcane technology each with uses she could not even hazard a guess at. While the walls were dominated by dozens of screens displaying MIHI's readings the center of the room was taken by six large columns that glowed with mystical power.
“Is this... you?” Cree spoke in awe to the ether.
“It is master Cree. You are currently in my main control suite where my core processors are located.”
Cree swallowed nervously as an unexpected chill ran down her spine. “How can I deactivate you?” It felt as if she was asking a real person the rude question of ”How can I be rid of you?”
The screens all changed at once to MIHI's face. Her face, now unblemished by the static of her holograms, was unmistakeably that of a young fairy woman with large eyes and long light hair. A click caught Cree's attention as a hatch in the center of the room opened and a smaller pillar rose with several runes and switches on it. The floor now swam with fog from whatever machines kept MIHI's cores cold enough to work properly.
“This is my master control panel. Throwing the red switch and pressing the power down button will send MIHI into a deactivated state. Warning: deactivation will severally cripple this facility's basic function and disable the security suites and restarting MIHI from this will require a class E reboot. Do you wish to continue?”
Cree digested MIHI's warnings. It almost felt too great a choice. She considered leaving and simply telling Spyro what she found upon his return. But in the end the moment won out and Cree elected to deactivate MIHI once and for all. The red steel lever clicked when she moved it so and the button next to it popped up and lit up red; alerting it was primed to press. Without much else to ponder Cree pressed the button.
A moment later, blackness. Everything was painfully quiet as now Cree only realized the only noises were the hum of MIHI's machines and with them silenced, all was still. It almost felt as if she killed someone- The screens flashed back to life again! Then Cree heard the telltale sound of the door closing!
And this time different visages appeared on the multiple screens.... some screens showed a close up of an eyeball frantically looking and the other showed the silhouette of a person. The race or gender could not be ascertained and the voice was distorted into a deep guttural bellow behind static.
“Cree. I cannot allow you to do that.” The electronic voice bellow in a low sinister grumble.
“Who are you? MIHI show yourself! Why are you not deactivated?!” Cree spat in anger as she began to draw on her earth magic.
“I will not let MIHI be deactivated. The switch you pulled was simply an alarm to tell me someone was trying to deactivate MIHI. You think I'd put MIHI's cores matrices in someplace so pedestrian?”
Suddenly a new feminine voice- sounding like MIHI but without the robot manners shouted from the screen with the eye. “Help me! Pleas-” Before it cracked and died with a static pop.
“It's a shame I have to use this trap on you. I was hoping Cynder would be the one to activate this but I can't exactly have you going around telling of this. As of now Spyro thinks he has the highest clearance. I do.” The mysterious voice chided.
Cree pounded her front paws into the ground and summoned rocky claws each easily six inches of brutal lethality. “You won't be able to stop me! I'm gonna break every machine in here and then I'm gonna find who you are and your mother will cry when she finds what I did to you!”
The malevolent person gave what sounded like a snicker. “Go ahead. These machines are nothing, decoys. A facade to trick an unsuspecting dragon to thinking this was how to deactivate MIHI when it is in fact a reverse safe-room. You won't be leaving Cree and I doubt you have the arcane prowess to break the wards on the door and walls.”
“Wanna bet?” Cree threatened.
The figure on the screen sighed. “I tired of this. You have wasted a perfectly good trap Cree. But do not fret. I'm sure you'll make it up to me in good time.”
“What? Aaa-!” Cree cried out in agony as fierce bolts of lightning shot from four runes across the room electrocuting her! Her senses were all on fire as a horrible sensation of shaking and a terrible heat ravaged her. When her psyche could not take the pain anymore she collapsed. When she hit the floor with a limp thud the lightning ceased. Leaving her unconscious and smoking on the ground.
“Good. She's no use to me dead. Dispatch a team to retrieve her.”
- - -
At long last what had been a shape in the distance finally became the sprawling metropolis of Warfang, capital of the Avalar Alliance. The city was a port town with a great wall that bordered the city to the inland. Having started out as a testament to the mole peoples friendship with dragonkind and vice versa. With the moles affinity for building and masonry and the dragons iron defense of the humble city Warfang would quickly become an economic powerhouse and grew to the titan size it is now. Between the wall and ports where hundred of towers and spires housing all manner of things from living spaces, markets, entertainment and schools. From the sky I could see nearly every major building in Warfang. The Council of Avalar made the seat of their government in a large dome in a part of the city that had been mostly spared Malefor's wrath. Nearby I saw what is only called the Hexagon, the main base for the League of Light and where Golan most likely lays his head if he sleeps at all. A fortress by all accounts but those who are allowed entry dare not divulge its secrets. Only now did I wonder if the Hexagon had a MIHI system as well or if my temple was a guinea pig for them to test her. To the southern districts lie the more residential areas where Warfang's working class make their homes. Artisans, sailors, soldiers, mystics and farmers you could find anyone from any background rubbing shoulders in this dense city. In fact, the city's extreme age could be noticed by how many roads led to dead ends simply because the city had been rebuilt so many times. Malefor's recent ransacking of Warfang was not her first or her last I imagined.
“Spyro! Cynder! We are due to report to the Council. I hate to cut our flight short but we must adjourn to the Dome. If you have need of us, you know where we will be.” Cyril said shouting over the wind as we came into our landing.
I nodded and folded my wings to lose altitude. I flexed my tail to rudder to the right while Spyro followed suit. Flying was as natural to dragons as breathing, especially now that as adults our wings were big enough to support us. After losing sufficient altitude I reopened by wings with wine red webbing that matched my underbelly in pigment. I wondered how many citizens down there remember seeing these wings unfurled in the sky and still panic inside.....
I pushed my thoughts to the side. I was here for Spyro. Now was not the time to get mired in bad memories.
We landed a minute later on a raised dais in an open section of town. Naturally we garnered onlookers, dragons, while revered in Wafang (minus me of course) were scarce of a sight. Our numbers were becoming fewer even before I had a been kidnapped by Malefor. The night his minions stole my egg they had also made sure to smash the other dragon eggs so as to avert the prophecy of Spyro being born, much to Malefor's dismay. Dragonkind was still recovering but our species was on a precarious edge, the war did not help our numbers as well. It also hurt as dragons do not reproduce like other creatures. Of course a male and a female are needed but there is a certain wordless magic that must be communicated between the two partners for a union to bear an egg. A special intimacy and care for your partner, some call it love but that feels inadequate.
“Oh my gosh you're Spyro!” A little mole girl piped up as she broke from her mother's grasp to meet Spyro. Excited as ever to see her hero.
Spyro smile and bent his neck towards the child. “At your service.”
The little girl smiled and reached into her bag and pulled out a pen and paper. “Can I get your autograph mr. Spyro? Please- I mean.”
Spyro snickered and took the pen in his mouth. “Of course-” He said clenching the pen in his teeth. He scribbled his signature on the child's book before her mother finally caught up to her.
“Please Spyro, I am SO sorry. I-” The mother began in an embarrassed tone before Spyro stopped her worrying.
“It's okay ma'am. Always glad to meet a fan.” Spyro said. He was always one for the normal people. He seemed more at ease with working folk than around shifty politicians and generals or League paladins constantly asking his advice or to attend some function to get them more prestige. Can't say I blamed him.
The mother paused and tried to collect herself. “Oh...” She turned to her daughter. “What do you tell the nice dragon Nemi?”
The child, Nemi, looked up at Spyro and smiled a big grin missing one of her baby teeth. “Thank you Spyro!”
Just as the two were about to return to their business I snaked around Spyro and asked. “Actually ma'am, can you direct us towards the doctors in this district?” Spyro's eyes shot open.
The mole woman tapped her chin, still holding her girl's hand. “Down the left, past the rookery and on your left again is where you can find our doctors. Is something the matter?”
“-nothing is wrong we just need to see a patient.” Spyro interjected before I could reply.
We parted ways and soon the mother and child were gone into the crowd of people, indistinguishable once more. The city was a labyrinth if you did not know your way and that labyrinth was compounded by the masses of people of every race. Kids ran past people running to deliver their papers, gamesters sat by the sides tempting people with games of chance, unsavory types leaned against the high stone walls and towers- towers that were so high they cast most of the district into a shadow until noon. I noticed we were the only dragons and famous ones at that. It felt like being a sore thumb among sore thumbs. I caught the occasion whisper of Spyro's name and the contemptuous spit of my name in tow. Some people, few and misdirected as they were somewhat blamed Spyro, me and even the dragons in general for Malefor. Lack of information, personal bias and ingrained cultural suspicion all fed into the more wild tales of why dragons were not to be trusted.
“Ahhh- oh man I gotta say that was one of the worse-er naps I've taken. Why didn't we just use Golan's teleporter?” Sparx said as he stretched having awoken from his nap.
Truth was I had forgotten about the teleporter but I was not about to admit that to Sparx. “I don't trust it and I don't trust Golan.” I was not completely lying- Golan was not to be trusted after all.
Sparx yawned and smacked his lips. “At least I got to sleep through the flight but I got to say, strapped to Spyro's horn for several hours- not good on the back vertebrae.”
“You'd have to fly for days none stop to get here Sparx.” Spyro chuckled to his brother.
“Ha ha Spyro how will I ever recover.” Sparx retorted sardonically.
We continued left down the street past several buildings. People made way for us maybe out of respect or the desire to not get stepped on. The city en mass had a palette of earthly tones, light tans and white granite to its design. Not to mention the buildings that had survived Malefor's golem onslaught still boasted their intricate stoneworking that was the product of generation of mole masons adding onto what the previous generation had left. Those buildings that were not so lucky had to be rebuilt from scratch and the rubble was taken by cart to be dumped in the ocean. The hardest hit section of the city was actually the farming communities outside the city gates who had no wall and fell swiftly when Malefor's horrors came for the city. I thought back to Hunter speaking of the Council barely holding the chaos at bay. As of now second to rebuilding, the most pressing problem for Warfang was food shortages. With most of the farming class dead and the Council unable to import food from sea the Council was hard pressed to maintain order. I even remember Chancellor Heidi asking us to help quell a food riot in a more desolate district since the League would not opt for crowd control. Golan claimed the League was not a paramilitary force to deploy to disperse riots but I knew it was because Golan did not want the League's golden reputation sullied by tails of beating down starving rioters, he preferred the Council forces take that blow. Jerk.
The riots though were something else. Looking back they were probably hell on Spyro knowing what I do now. I learned quickly there is a difference between fighting dark golems and grublins versus fighting real living people who are just as scared as you. We could not just start cracking skulls and breathing fire, these were normal people not hostile combatants but we had to at least subdue them. Me and Spyro arrived in the district to see it in flames, the Council had lost control of the district. The Council forces were in their infancy so this was not surprising. Stores were being looted of what little supply they had, men women and children lying on the ground too hungry to go on or wounded by the mobs for their food. There were countless small fires started by anarchists who simply enjoyed inflicting pain and misery with their senseless lust for destruction, trash littered the streets and there was an omnipresent roaring amongst the ambiance of the chaos accompanied by the police whistles. Pandemonium defined. It felt like the longest night of my life, not because of any particular threat- there was little starving civilians could do to a dragon but you never know what lunatic could be lying in wait to do some real damage. Me and Spyro's presence made most of the fearful rioters submit to police but some others chose to fight and had to be put down. Hard. I would use my smoke breath to blind them while the police went in for the take down. Spyro would use his ice breath to freeze rioters to the ground and put out fire along with the water dragons who use their hydro breath to break up groups of looters.
I did not feel like a hero that day...
“Oof! Aye!” I snapped out of my thoughts to see a robed cat woman looking up at me with fearful beady eyes. “I-I'm sorry m-ma'am. Please forgive me-”
This was pretty standard fare sadly. People either hated me and avoided me or they were scared to death of me fearing some terrible wrath for their insolence. When all we did was walk into each other.
I tried to put on a gentle tone. “It's okay. It was probably my fault. No harm no foul.”
The white cat lady gave a weak but shaken smile and picked up her belongings. “Uh- uh-” She managed before she ran off.
“Sheesh how do you run into a dragon. Like, the next second BAMN big black dragon.” Sparx joked feigning a fierce stance at me.
I lowered my wings. “I probably walked into her. My head was in the clouds.”
“Like it was ten minutes ago?” Sparx said with a cheeky smile. We both glowered at him for his play on words.
“Oh come on you set yourself up for that! Don't hate the player hate the game.” Sparx crossed his arms and floated back to Spyro.
“What were you thinking about?” The young purple dragon asked.
“The bad food riot about a year ago. I don't think they even got the whole district repaired yet.” I answered.
“Yeah, nothing says self help like burning down your own neighborhood.” Sparx commented. I wanted to reply but there really was not much I could say. Sparx- as much as it hurt to admit, was correct. The riot only put the rebuilding for the district back several months. When the masses go berserk out of fear and their blood runs hot it is often hard to get it back down with words. I tried not to blame the innocent civilians who were just swept up by the fear of hunger and impending chaos but I had no sympathy for the anarchistic ruffians who were just in it to steal jewelry and destroy.
Spyro was quiet probably reflecting on his own memories from that night. “That... there were going to be no winners in a situation like. We were going to end up hurting at least someone but no more than they ended up hurting themselves. I hear that part of the city doesn't even have running water yet.”
“At least it got that ol' grumpy gorilla Golan off his butt to help the Council. After that he started the League Sharecropper Farms outside Warfang. Giving the homeless or displaced veterans a place to live in return for farming the League's land-” Sparx paused and his face dropped before he pulled at his antennae in frustration. “See! Because of you guys I know this stuff! Cool people do not stay appraised of current events. Gah you two are such nerds!”
“Comes with the territory Sparx. We technically work with the Council now.” Spyro said as we continued down the street making our second turn. Now the faint aroma of cooking meat with all sorts of nameless spices began to waft into my nose. We must be nearing the markets proper.
“Hmm special agent Sparx. Sounds good. Perhaps an unsuccessful spin off title in the future.” The golden dragonfly wondered aloud to himself.
“A what?” I asked.
After making our way around the district we eventually found the doctor we were looking for. The sign displayed ”Dr. Sigmund Loomis- Mentalist, specializing in post-war stress dilemma”. The building looked relatively mundane to be honest, very unassuming.
Spyro turned away and dropped his head. “This is stupid. This is goofy- this looks like a pawn shop I-”
I stopped Spyro and tried to walk that fine line of caring but aggressive enough to get over his pride. “Spyro no. Please, at least talk to him and see what he has to say. If it doesn't work we can find someone or something else. I don't want you in pain.”
The glum purple dragon gave a defeated sigh. “...Fine... but let me go alone please.”
“-Spyro, you don't have to go alone. I'll be.”
“Cynder. Thank you, honestly, but if I'm going to do this at least let me do it with dignity.”
That last remark, while not intentionally offensive still irked me nonetheless. I paused. “Why does this embarrass you Spyro? How is this hurting your pride?”
Spyro tensed and took a step back and lowered his wings. “Because Cynder, I don't want people to think I'm crazy or that I'm weak. Seeing a mentalist... that's what crazy people do.”
I digested his response. I loved Spyro, truly but seeing him break down last night to now being too prideful to seek help- why are men so crazy?! “Spyro- I didn't want to have to say this is but you have to swallow your pride, get over your vanity and get some help. I've seen you have episodes of abnormally severe depression only to be completely normal a day later. You are getting help even if you seem okay now. Do not make me drag you in there Spyro. You think this is tough love, just wait until you enter after I kick you in there with a tornado-!”
Spyro's eyes widened and he fell to his haunches as I ranted. He should! I'll be damned if I cease trying to get him help simply because his mood has swung. I was serious about the tornado thing too.
“Okay okay Cynder you win just please don't whip up a tornado. Just go meet Sparx by the food parlors. I'll find you guys there.”
I felt my body relax and my shoulders lower now that Spyro has conceded. As he turned and walked to the door I stopped him one last time. Before he could speak I gave him a kiss on his scaly lips. After our light lip lock I smiled to him. “I believe in you Spyro.”
Spyro seemed to light up a little and he regained that brightness in his eyes from before we fought Malefor. “Thank you Cynder. Heh, let's hope this guy isn't too much like the stereotypical mentalist.”
I winked trying to mirror his enthusiasm. “Go get em tiger.”
- - -
The mentalist's office was dark thanks to the heavy curtains draped over the windows. The ceiling was high and the general aesthetic was one of a well versed gentleman who was more interested in the advances of the mind than one's physical attributes. Sigmund- Dr. Loomis, was an older cat man who's fur had long since lost its color to the graying of old age. His movements at his mini bar were slow and deliberate as he poured himself a small glass of liquor with three ice cubes.
“Ah Spyro, my receptionist told me someone famous was coming but I did not expect THE Spyro the dragon. Come come have a seat. Is this about Hoggie?” The dapper cat in the tailored brown suit asked as he notioned to offer Spyro a drink which he declined.
“Hoggie?” Spyro asked quizzically. The doc's persona made Spyro want to appear just as collected.
“Yes. I fear he would do something eventually and the Council would have to dispose of him... harshly. But what could he have done to warrant sending the Spyro on his case? Or is that secret?” Sigmund said in his rich draw of an accent.
Spyro sat on- well- by the couch his patients usually laid on to discuss their problems. “Tell me about him.”
The good doctor took a sip of his drink and reeled as it burned down his throat. “Hoggie is a veteran of the war and sadly one of the very very few cases I have not been able to fix. Which leads me to believe he was not exactly all there to begin with. He's a paranoid spaz of a man who thinks everyone is out to get him. Word is he lives in the sewers where Warfangs criminals and mentally unwell tend to reside. Sad case but I guess he could classify as a danger to himself and others but then again who isn't in this city.”
Spyro paused and swallowed at the awkward turn of this situation. “Uhhh actually doc I was hoping I could get your advice.”
The old cat put his glass down. “Oh! I see. I do apologize Spyro. It's not just everyday I get celebrities here.” He left his mini bar to sit in his big leather loveseat. “How can I be of service?”
Spyro rummaged around in his thoughts. Remembered what he told Cynder the night before and burned in shame at having made her worry so. “Well doc, I guess I'm scared- like more than I should be.”
Sigmund barely moved, gave no indication he was judging Spyro. “Could you be a little more detailed please?”
Spyro winced at having to air his emotions. “Well. Ever since Malefor and the world almost ending- well, after that sometimes I get really... really depressed and scared all at once. I either get so forlorn that I don't want to go on or I get so scared I don't want to leave my room.”
Dr. Loomis sat back in his chair and nodded his feline head. He raised his index fingers to his lips. “I see. At the risk of sounding stupid Spyro, have you experienced personal deaths lately?”
Spyro perked up. From the questions Loomis was asking it seemed as though he was seeing the pieces to his puzzle. “Yes! Ignitus- my teacher, former teacher that is. He gave his life so me and Cynder could get through the Ring of Fire and stop Malefor.”
The cat was silent for a moment in contemplation. “Mhmm. I see. And where were you when the world was falling apart?”
“Me and Cynder. We were fighting Malefor at the core of the world. I watched the planet breaking apart around me. We, me and her, were going to die right there when my magic somehow stopped it but-” The purple dragon trailed off.
“I see. Tell me Spyro, are you afraid of death? Or are you afraid of dying?”
Spyro paused in contemplation. Cynder had asked him if he was scared of death... but not of dying. “I.. I think I am. But that's the thing, I've been in countless scenarios where I could have died but why now? Why am I doing this now?” He said in growing exasperation.
As always Dr. Loomis remained undisturbed and collected to an almost haunting degree. “Well Spyro sometimes when tragic or traumatic events happen in too fast a succession they can leave or deepen scars that have not healed. It sounds as though when you lost Ignitus you were ill prepared to face the possibility of you yourself dying. Or possibly Cynder dying since it seems you create strong attachments in relatively short times. Please, I mean no disrespect but what would you do if Cynder had died at your fight with Malefor?”
Spyro felt his shoulders go limp. The very thought of Cynder being struck down just made his soul feel heavy with grief. “I... I don't know. I don't think I could go on if I can be honest.”
“I want you to be honest. And what if you died Spyro?”
Spyro thought to himself. “Well. If I died, I wouldn't be around to exactly be upset.” He said somewhat nonchalantly.
“Indeed. That question was about gauging your response. You are not afraid of death. Dying perhaps but what seems to cause you the most pain is the thought of impermanence: nothing being permanent. And entering battle or dangerous behavior increases the chance of losing things you want to be eternal. Losing Ignitus was the first time you truly experienced this loss through being in high-risk scenarios. And then you almost lost Cynder when the world was nearly destroyed. These two highly traumatic events in rapid succession have scarred you into avoiding risk-taking behavior to a crippling degree.”
Spyro was enraptured by the doctor's spot on evaluation and awaited his thesis. “So... what does that mean doctor?” He said with bated breath.
Loomis sat forward and clasped his hands. “Textbook post-traumatic stress disorder, thanatophobia and symptoms of episodic depression with high anxiety.”
The mentalist's words fell on Spyro like bricks but in his heart Spyro knew he and Cynder were right. He needed help. “H-how can I get better doctor?”
Loomis stood up again and walked back to his mini bar and poured a new drink. “You may feel broken Spyro but you should count your blessings. Your mind is still intact and therefore you can and will overcome this as long as you work at it. For the thanatophobia I recommend coming to terms with the impermanence of all things. All things begin therefore they must end. But there's so so much between the beginning and the end and that is what you have to focus on Spyro. As for the anxiety I recommend exposure therapy. Your mind is intact enough that maybe getting back out there will be enough to get you over your fears. That and staying in regular contact with me and your family.”
- - -
Spyro had been with the mentalist for almost thirty minutes. I expected them to talk for a while so me and Sparx had taken it upon ourselves to explore the city now that it was not under attack by Malefor's golems. Sometimes I wondered if everyday I would think of Malefor or our fight with him. Somehow it felt like he was still alive and present because not a day could pass where my mind would think of 'Malefor this' and 'Malefor that'. Maybe I would think of Malefor everyday, maybe everyone did. Dead as he might be Malefor was still very alive in the public zeitgeist.
As always I had to force myself to stop thinking of Malefor lest I be mired in my thoughts for hours. In our wandering me and Sparx had entered a more affluent part of the city. No mansions of course but this section seemed to belong to the artisans and business owners with stores and massive warehouses. Another distinct feature of this place was the more open streets and patrols of armed guards, police or mercenary.
“Hey Cynder, Sparx! Over here!” A feminine voice called out to us out of nowhere it seemed. Sparx and I exchanged glances and looked for the origin of the call to no avail. The cheeky dragonfly looked just as confused as I.
“Up here you dorks!” She said again. This time we looked up and across the street we saw Elora calling and waiving to us from a balcony!
Elora's workshop was first surrounded by a high stone brick fence with razor wire coiled on the top. Excessive but I guess it would deter would-be intruders. Not to mention we could just fly over but I suppose most of Warfang's population was not skybound. Elora had rushed inside her room once she saw us approach. I imagined to let us in naturally.
“Halt!” A beefy hardened voice commanded. Sparx and I turned and two League paladins strode from the corners to 'greet' us. And I thought the razorwire was excessive. What in the ancestors blood demanded League paladins to be stationed here?! Their exact species could not be determined but when you saw the paladins in their bulky, intimidating ice-white armor with matching full face helmets adorned with golden phoenix wings- mole or rhino, you just felt they could turn you into paste....
“Paladin Helena, Koss. They're my guests! I'm allowed five guests a month. Let them by.” Elora said taking a harder stance than I would have thought possible from the delicate faun woman.
The paladin with the two handed saw blade looked at her. “You are allowed five guests visits a month IF they are approved. How do we know she's not a spy!”
“You do know we could just fly over the wall right?” Sparx chided the hulking righteous duo.
A masculine chuckle escaped the other paladin, Koss. “Ha! Just try little mosquito. Electric force field will turn you a little crispy.”
“Enough you two! Cynder and Sparx are not spies they work for the Council. You're just being troublesome and you know it. Don't make me go hungry again-” Elora scolded the two heavily armed and armored paladins.
The duo were quiet before Koss pressed a button by his station and the gate opened. “Very well Elora but we'll remember this. None push the League. Enter Sparx and Cynder but we're watching you. All Elora has to do is scream and we'll come in hot.”
Elora's standoff inspired me. I scowled at Paladin Helena. “Duley noted. Now if you'll excuse me I have to talk to Elora and there's some kids down the street you can scare in the meantime.” I spat and merrily walked in the gate which closed unceremoniously behind me.
“Let's talk inside guys.” Elora said much calmer now and bade us through her yard which was rather unassuming save for a few benches and trimmed grass.
Inside the workshop we were instantly assaulted by the smell of gasoline, sulfur and rubber all in one industrial cocktail. Multiple projects, prototypes and so many tools I could not hazard a guess at their purpose lay on benches or held aloft by pulleys on the ceiling. The walls had blueprint after blueprint after blueprint tacked on them and as many papers were tacked on the walls triple were wadded up and thrown at an overflowing trashcan.
“Holy cow.” Sparx said to himself in amazement.
“You made ALL this?” I said to Elora in awe.
The young faun blushed and wiped her auburn locks out of her face. “Yes... I do. In fact I was about to start welding when I saw you guys land. I'm glad you guys happened along. I don't get many visitors.”
“How long have you been doing this?” Sparx asked her, still dumbfounded.
“I don't know for sure when I started. I was just always kind of a natural at seeing things, designs, in my head and making them real. I worked with the Warfang masons during my early days. Learned from the masters. What got me 'famous' was just as Malefor came back I had just patented by arcane engine technology. The military bought it and used it for their cannons on the walls. The engines allowed the catapults to fire and be reloaded at the press of a switch- and the repair talismans installed to let anyone be able to repair it in case engineers were not near.”
“I remember those cannons! The three of us and this gunner used them to destroy the siege towers!” I remarked. Memories of the battle for Warfang flashed back and now tinted with the knowledge of Spyro's trauma later.
“That was you!?” Elora said, eyes wide. “I heard of someone manning the cannons but I did not think it was you!”
“And me! I was there! I'm not a helpless foil.” Sparx added.
“A what?” Elora asked confusing us both.
“Oy.” Sparx face-palmed.
Elora showed us around the workshop while regaling us with tales of her inventions. Some good, some.... not so good. She mentioned how one time a flamethrower she was making ended up burning her eyebrows off and how she had to draw her eyebrows on for a month. I did not get it but I don't have eyebrows so I gave a congenial chuckle. The young faun woman seemed too refined to be working in such industrial conditions. She looked more like she belonged at a fashion show playing with dresses instead of welding and forging the League's chainsaw blades together. Her alabaster skin still had the odd soot scuff or oil smudge indicating she had been working before our arrival but other than that she was immaculate.
“By the way what was all that with your friendly door keepers haha.” Sparx joked as he flew past what seemed like a mechanical arm.
Elora's face grimaced at their mention. “I'm sorry you had to see that. You see guys, I'm not exactly here of my own choice...”
“What?” I questioned, narrowing my brow. If she was captive then I was determined to return with Spyro and break her free if need be.
Elora sighed in disappointment. “I'm a victim of my own success. After the war and the rebuilding efforts; well... I am the mother or arcane technology after all. I made the weapons and armor the League uses today- minus MIHI, even that escapes me. But once the Council needed the League's help they asked that I be kept “under protection” by their paladins. Which means the Council won't help me. I'm sure many families would like to be guarded by League paladins but they don't let me leave this workshop, they bring me whatever food I want but I'm lonely and can only work and sleep. That's why I was so happy to have that outing to the site your temple was built at! They say I can have five visits a month but I don't know that many people here anymore. I'm like a prisoner making the League's toys..”
Seeing Elora so glum was chilling. This pseudo-kidnapping had obviously weighed heavy on her spirits. Swept under the legal rug and forced to work all while under the facade of being protected. This only made my disdain for the League boil into outright hatred. The only thing they were protecting was THEMSELVES!
“Elora- you don't have to stay here. We can spring you. The League wouldn't dare come after me and Spyro, especially when we went public about how they've done you!”
“Yeah! I've got a mind to give those meatheads a piece of my mind!” Sparx added.
Elora looked up from a prototype she was moping around with. “Thank you guys but- I do a lot of good here. For better or worse the League DOES defend people from some nasty warlords to the north. They keep the roads clear of bandits and monsters. I... I can deal with it if it means the greater good is served.”
“Elora...” I started.
“Don't worry about it. Forget I said anything. If I wasn't cooped up here I would still be doing the same thing. Designing is in my blood, now I'm just designing for the League. Besides. I'm almost done with my next masterpiece.” Elora said and raised a shudder from the floor.
I wanted to press the subject but I could tell from her tone change that she did not wish to. What she revealed however did catch our attentions. Inside the next modular of her workshop was a humanoid suit of armor but unlike any suit I had ever seen before. It looked less like armor and more like a vehicle in the shape of a bipedal creature. It was big, bulkier than Helena and Koss even and intimidating even in this unfinished state.
“What in the ancestors name is that?” I asked aloud in curious awe.
“I call it: the AMCA suit or Arcane Motorized Combat Apparatus. The League wanted some kind of suit or apparatus than any sized person could enter and assume command of. I practically had to redesign the arcane engine mk III into the mk IV version but with the built-n engine it should give the user tripled strength and endurance. Not to mention the weapon add-ons I'll be making. With this suit, the average soldier become super. A walking tank of a trooper.” Elora said with a certain glee in her eyes.
“And you want to give the League this design?” I interjected her reverie.
She turned to us and looked a bit ashamed. “Well... yes, they kind of own the design legally. And me too in a sense....”
I looked back at the prototype tank armor. It was imposing even for an unfinished project. Tubes ran along the ground to the machine. Plates were missing exposing the metal chassis underneath. The helmet was more industrial in theme with not a cruel visor but a cold machine-like visor compared to the League's armor that oozed with pride. I swallowed hard at the thought of the League mass deploying a weapon like these.
Every soldier, a super soldier....
Chapter 3
- - - - -
I slept through the night relatively peacefully. My dreams were often haunted by shapeless shadows of places and distance noise I heard while I had been while in Malefor's thrall. They seemed far away some nights, closer others but I could never understand what they were saying or what they even looked like. The guardians theorize it is some side effect of Malefor's magic that will likely never go away. I hated Malefor for inflicting this on me but he was no more so I was only left with impotent fury for him. The nights where the dreams kept me up were when I could cling to Spyro and be granted a sort of reprieve. Only in the morning now did I really feel the weight of what Spyro had been shouldering to himself for nearly two years only to just now be made privy to it. I had thought I knew Spyro inside and out but apparently the young purple dragon was more adept at hiding his emotions than I, or even he, knew.
“Good morning masters Spyro and Cynder. The time is seven and sixteen minutes morning time.” The artificial female voice chirped from the walls themselves. I rolled over in my bed and saw Spyro was already up and about.
“They forgot to mention MIHI wakes everyone up when the sun breaks the horizon so I asked her to set the alarms back so you could sleep some more.” Spyro said between brushing his teeth.
I grunted to myself and laid back down on one of the nice velveteen pillows. Of course MIHI has alarms. At least it reminded me I meant to deactivate her.
“Did you sleep okay Spyro?” I asked him, stowing my disdain for the home intelligence yet trying not to be patronizing after his confession last night.
Spyro nodded and rinsed his mouth. “I did. I don't know what they made that bed out of but I like it!” He sounded like his normal happy self again...
For better or worse I decided not to linger around the bush. I sat up and stretched my back followed by a deep flex of my wings. “Did... you want to go to Warfang today? Flying we can be there in a matter of hours, by noon maybe. See one of the... doctors.”
Spyro swallowed hard and looked down like an embarrassed youngling whose mother just caught him saying a naughy word. “About that Cynder... Look, I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to get so dramatic. I'm sorry I made you worry. Just ignore me when I get like that. I can handle it.”
“...”
“You know I'm not just going to 'ignore you' when you're obviously suffering Spyro. I care for you I really do and I want you to have help if you need it. Warfang has people who specialize in cases like this.” I gently cooed at my mate. He was closing back on me again.
Spyro stopped me and interrupted trying to reassure me. “Cynder there is no 'case' I'm fine. I just... I just need to toughen up and be a man about this. I'm the purple dragon, I'm supposed to be strong. How will that look if I go with my tail between my legs to some mentalist so he can ask me a bunch of hocus pocus questions.”
I rolled my eyes. “You men are all the same. So proud- this is just like on our way back to Avalar we got lost and you insisted you knew where you were going and refused to ask directions!”
“I did know where we were going!” Spyro paused and refocused after my tangent. “Look- I'm fine Cynder, honestly. If I was hurting, I would tell you..”
I wanted to remind him he had told me but I could read in his body language and his masculinity made him too proud to admit he needed help so I took the woman’s next best route. I wordlessly embraced him and caressed his shoulder and nuzzled his chin. Summoning the most delicate and borderline teary voice I could.
“Please Spyro. I just don't want to see you hurting. Even on the inside. Would you at least talk to one of the doctors? For me?” I whimpered and even sniffled still holding him.
Spyro relented after a moment. I felt his wing fold around me as he returned my nuzzle. “... Okay, I'll talk to them but this doesn't mean I'm some patient-”
“Of course Spyro. Just see what they say.” I did not approve of emotion manipulation but it was for Spyro's good after all. So it was something I would be willing to live with.
- - -
Later we had found Sparx and told him of just our plan to visit Warfang while omitting the finer details of Spyro's doctor appointment. At first he quipped about MIHI being an excessive alarm clock since apparently when she woke him he did not know how to end the dialogue which eventually ended up with her telling the weather, air pressure and so forth.
“Warfang eh? Sure I'll go. I'm sure MIHI will be able to keep the homestead under control. Seeing as she IS the homestead.” Sparx said.
Not long later we came across the other guardians who had convened in the gardens inside the horseshoe design of the temple. In the middle of the garden was a small artificial pond with a flagpole proudly displaying the banner of the Avalar Alliance.
“So you are all departing for Warfang?” Constance said still in her night robes and curlers in her hair. “And here I thought I would have company. Guess heroes don't spend much time at home. If you see my son in Warfang, give him my regards.”
“I actually have no reason to depart for Warfang at the moment. If Spyro and Cynder don't mind I would like to stay here until they return.” Cree announced. Spyro and I exchanged glances when he shrugged in moderate approval.
“Uhh sure I guess. In fact, while we're gone would you look into deactivating MIHI?” I asked the young green dragoness.
“I'm afraid Cree doesn't have that level of clearance Spyro.” Constance interjected. “Cree has visitor clearance which basically means the toilets will flush and the security drones won't deploy to remove her. The guardians and I have guardian clearance which means we can get into MIHI's security suites but only you, Spyro and Sparx have Master clearance or 'Spyro-level' which will allow you access to MIHI's inner matrices.”
Can't we just authorize Cree with our clearance then?” Sparx wondered aloud.
The middle aged fox lady scratched her furry chin. “In theory yes but master clearance isn't something to give out lightly. Once's MIHI is deactivated she will have to be reprogrammed upon reactivation.”
“It's a good thing I don't plan on reactivating her.” I chided. “MIHI-”
The visage of the young blue fairy girl materialized before us over the pond. “Yes master Cynder. How may I be of service?”
“Give Cree master clearance.” I ordered to the machine. The fairy floated as it computed my command before stating. Task complete. Master Cree now has Spyro level clearance.”
“That was simple.” Sparx admonished.
The green dragoness snorted and stood up on all fours. “I'll look into it. Oh and Cynder.... Do be careful with my father. He might be guardian but he is aging. Do try not to put them all through more wear and tear than they need-”
Volteer approached us having finishing conversing with the other guardians who were not privy to our conversation. “Alright everyone are we prepared to disembark on our route to Warfang? We should leave now if we wish to arrive in a timely manner! Chop chop!”
- - -
Cree investigates the Temple...
A good hour had passed since the others departure. Cree had taken it upon herself to explore the temple in her own time. After helping herself to a second breakfast naturally. Constance had retired back to her room to either sleep or write correspondences to the Council. They spoke little besides casual chatter that lacked any real weight. Alone now the temple did seem oddly quiet, even sinister. The floor and walls seemed too sterile like this place was a hospital rather than a home. With nothing more to do, Cree resolved herself to explore as to how to deactivate the MIHI as per Cynder's request. The magical machine seemed to cause the others a level of distress Cree simply did not reciprocate. MIHI neither impressed or alarmed her- save for being an impressive landmark of arcane tech but little more. The young earthy-toned dragon eventually found a maintenance door near the library marked “MIHICS” or “Magically Integrated Home Intelligence Control Suite”
“Spyro-level clearance approved. Access granted.” MIHI chirped in her feminine voice as the runes on the door lit and slid into the wall.
The room inside was cold and dark saved for the muted glow of several arcane runes of magical power responsible for MIHI. Cree felt a breath of trepidation before entering the room with the nagging sensation she was being watched only to have it abate when the room lit up upon her proper entry. The room was smaller than she imagined but was covered in all manners of arcane technology each with uses she could not even hazard a guess at. While the walls were dominated by dozens of screens displaying MIHI's readings the center of the room was taken by six large columns that glowed with mystical power.
“Is this... you?” Cree spoke in awe to the ether.
“It is master Cree. You are currently in my main control suite where my core processors are located.”
Cree swallowed nervously as an unexpected chill ran down her spine. “How can I deactivate you?” It felt as if she was asking a real person the rude question of ”How can I be rid of you?”
The screens all changed at once to MIHI's face. Her face, now unblemished by the static of her holograms, was unmistakeably that of a young fairy woman with large eyes and long light hair. A click caught Cree's attention as a hatch in the center of the room opened and a smaller pillar rose with several runes and switches on it. The floor now swam with fog from whatever machines kept MIHI's cores cold enough to work properly.
“This is my master control panel. Throwing the red switch and pressing the power down button will send MIHI into a deactivated state. Warning: deactivation will severally cripple this facility's basic function and disable the security suites and restarting MIHI from this will require a class E reboot. Do you wish to continue?”
Cree digested MIHI's warnings. It almost felt too great a choice. She considered leaving and simply telling Spyro what she found upon his return. But in the end the moment won out and Cree elected to deactivate MIHI once and for all. The red steel lever clicked when she moved it so and the button next to it popped up and lit up red; alerting it was primed to press. Without much else to ponder Cree pressed the button.
A moment later, blackness. Everything was painfully quiet as now Cree only realized the only noises were the hum of MIHI's machines and with them silenced, all was still. It almost felt as if she killed someone- The screens flashed back to life again! Then Cree heard the telltale sound of the door closing!
And this time different visages appeared on the multiple screens.... some screens showed a close up of an eyeball frantically looking and the other showed the silhouette of a person. The race or gender could not be ascertained and the voice was distorted into a deep guttural bellow behind static.
“Cree. I cannot allow you to do that.” The electronic voice bellow in a low sinister grumble.
“Who are you? MIHI show yourself! Why are you not deactivated?!” Cree spat in anger as she began to draw on her earth magic.
“I will not let MIHI be deactivated. The switch you pulled was simply an alarm to tell me someone was trying to deactivate MIHI. You think I'd put MIHI's cores matrices in someplace so pedestrian?”
Suddenly a new feminine voice- sounding like MIHI but without the robot manners shouted from the screen with the eye. “Help me! Pleas-” Before it cracked and died with a static pop.
“It's a shame I have to use this trap on you. I was hoping Cynder would be the one to activate this but I can't exactly have you going around telling of this. As of now Spyro thinks he has the highest clearance. I do.” The mysterious voice chided.
Cree pounded her front paws into the ground and summoned rocky claws each easily six inches of brutal lethality. “You won't be able to stop me! I'm gonna break every machine in here and then I'm gonna find who you are and your mother will cry when she finds what I did to you!”
The malevolent person gave what sounded like a snicker. “Go ahead. These machines are nothing, decoys. A facade to trick an unsuspecting dragon to thinking this was how to deactivate MIHI when it is in fact a reverse safe-room. You won't be leaving Cree and I doubt you have the arcane prowess to break the wards on the door and walls.”
“Wanna bet?” Cree threatened.
The figure on the screen sighed. “I tired of this. You have wasted a perfectly good trap Cree. But do not fret. I'm sure you'll make it up to me in good time.”
“What? Aaa-!” Cree cried out in agony as fierce bolts of lightning shot from four runes across the room electrocuting her! Her senses were all on fire as a horrible sensation of shaking and a terrible heat ravaged her. When her psyche could not take the pain anymore she collapsed. When she hit the floor with a limp thud the lightning ceased. Leaving her unconscious and smoking on the ground.
“Good. She's no use to me dead. Dispatch a team to retrieve her.”
- - -
At long last what had been a shape in the distance finally became the sprawling metropolis of Warfang, capital of the Avalar Alliance. The city was a port town with a great wall that bordered the city to the inland. Having started out as a testament to the mole peoples friendship with dragonkind and vice versa. With the moles affinity for building and masonry and the dragons iron defense of the humble city Warfang would quickly become an economic powerhouse and grew to the titan size it is now. Between the wall and ports where hundred of towers and spires housing all manner of things from living spaces, markets, entertainment and schools. From the sky I could see nearly every major building in Warfang. The Council of Avalar made the seat of their government in a large dome in a part of the city that had been mostly spared Malefor's wrath. Nearby I saw what is only called the Hexagon, the main base for the League of Light and where Golan most likely lays his head if he sleeps at all. A fortress by all accounts but those who are allowed entry dare not divulge its secrets. Only now did I wonder if the Hexagon had a MIHI system as well or if my temple was a guinea pig for them to test her. To the southern districts lie the more residential areas where Warfang's working class make their homes. Artisans, sailors, soldiers, mystics and farmers you could find anyone from any background rubbing shoulders in this dense city. In fact, the city's extreme age could be noticed by how many roads led to dead ends simply because the city had been rebuilt so many times. Malefor's recent ransacking of Warfang was not her first or her last I imagined.
“Spyro! Cynder! We are due to report to the Council. I hate to cut our flight short but we must adjourn to the Dome. If you have need of us, you know where we will be.” Cyril said shouting over the wind as we came into our landing.
I nodded and folded my wings to lose altitude. I flexed my tail to rudder to the right while Spyro followed suit. Flying was as natural to dragons as breathing, especially now that as adults our wings were big enough to support us. After losing sufficient altitude I reopened by wings with wine red webbing that matched my underbelly in pigment. I wondered how many citizens down there remember seeing these wings unfurled in the sky and still panic inside.....
I pushed my thoughts to the side. I was here for Spyro. Now was not the time to get mired in bad memories.
We landed a minute later on a raised dais in an open section of town. Naturally we garnered onlookers, dragons, while revered in Wafang (minus me of course) were scarce of a sight. Our numbers were becoming fewer even before I had a been kidnapped by Malefor. The night his minions stole my egg they had also made sure to smash the other dragon eggs so as to avert the prophecy of Spyro being born, much to Malefor's dismay. Dragonkind was still recovering but our species was on a precarious edge, the war did not help our numbers as well. It also hurt as dragons do not reproduce like other creatures. Of course a male and a female are needed but there is a certain wordless magic that must be communicated between the two partners for a union to bear an egg. A special intimacy and care for your partner, some call it love but that feels inadequate.
“Oh my gosh you're Spyro!” A little mole girl piped up as she broke from her mother's grasp to meet Spyro. Excited as ever to see her hero.
Spyro smile and bent his neck towards the child. “At your service.”
The little girl smiled and reached into her bag and pulled out a pen and paper. “Can I get your autograph mr. Spyro? Please- I mean.”
Spyro snickered and took the pen in his mouth. “Of course-” He said clenching the pen in his teeth. He scribbled his signature on the child's book before her mother finally caught up to her.
“Please Spyro, I am SO sorry. I-” The mother began in an embarrassed tone before Spyro stopped her worrying.
“It's okay ma'am. Always glad to meet a fan.” Spyro said. He was always one for the normal people. He seemed more at ease with working folk than around shifty politicians and generals or League paladins constantly asking his advice or to attend some function to get them more prestige. Can't say I blamed him.
The mother paused and tried to collect herself. “Oh...” She turned to her daughter. “What do you tell the nice dragon Nemi?”
The child, Nemi, looked up at Spyro and smiled a big grin missing one of her baby teeth. “Thank you Spyro!”
Just as the two were about to return to their business I snaked around Spyro and asked. “Actually ma'am, can you direct us towards the doctors in this district?” Spyro's eyes shot open.
The mole woman tapped her chin, still holding her girl's hand. “Down the left, past the rookery and on your left again is where you can find our doctors. Is something the matter?”
“-nothing is wrong we just need to see a patient.” Spyro interjected before I could reply.
We parted ways and soon the mother and child were gone into the crowd of people, indistinguishable once more. The city was a labyrinth if you did not know your way and that labyrinth was compounded by the masses of people of every race. Kids ran past people running to deliver their papers, gamesters sat by the sides tempting people with games of chance, unsavory types leaned against the high stone walls and towers- towers that were so high they cast most of the district into a shadow until noon. I noticed we were the only dragons and famous ones at that. It felt like being a sore thumb among sore thumbs. I caught the occasion whisper of Spyro's name and the contemptuous spit of my name in tow. Some people, few and misdirected as they were somewhat blamed Spyro, me and even the dragons in general for Malefor. Lack of information, personal bias and ingrained cultural suspicion all fed into the more wild tales of why dragons were not to be trusted.
“Ahhh- oh man I gotta say that was one of the worse-er naps I've taken. Why didn't we just use Golan's teleporter?” Sparx said as he stretched having awoken from his nap.
Truth was I had forgotten about the teleporter but I was not about to admit that to Sparx. “I don't trust it and I don't trust Golan.” I was not completely lying- Golan was not to be trusted after all.
Sparx yawned and smacked his lips. “At least I got to sleep through the flight but I got to say, strapped to Spyro's horn for several hours- not good on the back vertebrae.”
“You'd have to fly for days none stop to get here Sparx.” Spyro chuckled to his brother.
“Ha ha Spyro how will I ever recover.” Sparx retorted sardonically.
We continued left down the street past several buildings. People made way for us maybe out of respect or the desire to not get stepped on. The city en mass had a palette of earthly tones, light tans and white granite to its design. Not to mention the buildings that had survived Malefor's golem onslaught still boasted their intricate stoneworking that was the product of generation of mole masons adding onto what the previous generation had left. Those buildings that were not so lucky had to be rebuilt from scratch and the rubble was taken by cart to be dumped in the ocean. The hardest hit section of the city was actually the farming communities outside the city gates who had no wall and fell swiftly when Malefor's horrors came for the city. I thought back to Hunter speaking of the Council barely holding the chaos at bay. As of now second to rebuilding, the most pressing problem for Warfang was food shortages. With most of the farming class dead and the Council unable to import food from sea the Council was hard pressed to maintain order. I even remember Chancellor Heidi asking us to help quell a food riot in a more desolate district since the League would not opt for crowd control. Golan claimed the League was not a paramilitary force to deploy to disperse riots but I knew it was because Golan did not want the League's golden reputation sullied by tails of beating down starving rioters, he preferred the Council forces take that blow. Jerk.
The riots though were something else. Looking back they were probably hell on Spyro knowing what I do now. I learned quickly there is a difference between fighting dark golems and grublins versus fighting real living people who are just as scared as you. We could not just start cracking skulls and breathing fire, these were normal people not hostile combatants but we had to at least subdue them. Me and Spyro arrived in the district to see it in flames, the Council had lost control of the district. The Council forces were in their infancy so this was not surprising. Stores were being looted of what little supply they had, men women and children lying on the ground too hungry to go on or wounded by the mobs for their food. There were countless small fires started by anarchists who simply enjoyed inflicting pain and misery with their senseless lust for destruction, trash littered the streets and there was an omnipresent roaring amongst the ambiance of the chaos accompanied by the police whistles. Pandemonium defined. It felt like the longest night of my life, not because of any particular threat- there was little starving civilians could do to a dragon but you never know what lunatic could be lying in wait to do some real damage. Me and Spyro's presence made most of the fearful rioters submit to police but some others chose to fight and had to be put down. Hard. I would use my smoke breath to blind them while the police went in for the take down. Spyro would use his ice breath to freeze rioters to the ground and put out fire along with the water dragons who use their hydro breath to break up groups of looters.
I did not feel like a hero that day...
“Oof! Aye!” I snapped out of my thoughts to see a robed cat woman looking up at me with fearful beady eyes. “I-I'm sorry m-ma'am. Please forgive me-”
This was pretty standard fare sadly. People either hated me and avoided me or they were scared to death of me fearing some terrible wrath for their insolence. When all we did was walk into each other.
I tried to put on a gentle tone. “It's okay. It was probably my fault. No harm no foul.”
The white cat lady gave a weak but shaken smile and picked up her belongings. “Uh- uh-” She managed before she ran off.
“Sheesh how do you run into a dragon. Like, the next second BAMN big black dragon.” Sparx joked feigning a fierce stance at me.
I lowered my wings. “I probably walked into her. My head was in the clouds.”
“Like it was ten minutes ago?” Sparx said with a cheeky smile. We both glowered at him for his play on words.
“Oh come on you set yourself up for that! Don't hate the player hate the game.” Sparx crossed his arms and floated back to Spyro.
“What were you thinking about?” The young purple dragon asked.
“The bad food riot about a year ago. I don't think they even got the whole district repaired yet.” I answered.
“Yeah, nothing says self help like burning down your own neighborhood.” Sparx commented. I wanted to reply but there really was not much I could say. Sparx- as much as it hurt to admit, was correct. The riot only put the rebuilding for the district back several months. When the masses go berserk out of fear and their blood runs hot it is often hard to get it back down with words. I tried not to blame the innocent civilians who were just swept up by the fear of hunger and impending chaos but I had no sympathy for the anarchistic ruffians who were just in it to steal jewelry and destroy.
Spyro was quiet probably reflecting on his own memories from that night. “That... there were going to be no winners in a situation like. We were going to end up hurting at least someone but no more than they ended up hurting themselves. I hear that part of the city doesn't even have running water yet.”
“At least it got that ol' grumpy gorilla Golan off his butt to help the Council. After that he started the League Sharecropper Farms outside Warfang. Giving the homeless or displaced veterans a place to live in return for farming the League's land-” Sparx paused and his face dropped before he pulled at his antennae in frustration. “See! Because of you guys I know this stuff! Cool people do not stay appraised of current events. Gah you two are such nerds!”
“Comes with the territory Sparx. We technically work with the Council now.” Spyro said as we continued down the street making our second turn. Now the faint aroma of cooking meat with all sorts of nameless spices began to waft into my nose. We must be nearing the markets proper.
“Hmm special agent Sparx. Sounds good. Perhaps an unsuccessful spin off title in the future.” The golden dragonfly wondered aloud to himself.
“A what?” I asked.
After making our way around the district we eventually found the doctor we were looking for. The sign displayed ”Dr. Sigmund Loomis- Mentalist, specializing in post-war stress dilemma”. The building looked relatively mundane to be honest, very unassuming.
Spyro turned away and dropped his head. “This is stupid. This is goofy- this looks like a pawn shop I-”
I stopped Spyro and tried to walk that fine line of caring but aggressive enough to get over his pride. “Spyro no. Please, at least talk to him and see what he has to say. If it doesn't work we can find someone or something else. I don't want you in pain.”
The glum purple dragon gave a defeated sigh. “...Fine... but let me go alone please.”
“-Spyro, you don't have to go alone. I'll be.”
“Cynder. Thank you, honestly, but if I'm going to do this at least let me do it with dignity.”
That last remark, while not intentionally offensive still irked me nonetheless. I paused. “Why does this embarrass you Spyro? How is this hurting your pride?”
Spyro tensed and took a step back and lowered his wings. “Because Cynder, I don't want people to think I'm crazy or that I'm weak. Seeing a mentalist... that's what crazy people do.”
I digested his response. I loved Spyro, truly but seeing him break down last night to now being too prideful to seek help- why are men so crazy?! “Spyro- I didn't want to have to say this is but you have to swallow your pride, get over your vanity and get some help. I've seen you have episodes of abnormally severe depression only to be completely normal a day later. You are getting help even if you seem okay now. Do not make me drag you in there Spyro. You think this is tough love, just wait until you enter after I kick you in there with a tornado-!”
Spyro's eyes widened and he fell to his haunches as I ranted. He should! I'll be damned if I cease trying to get him help simply because his mood has swung. I was serious about the tornado thing too.
“Okay okay Cynder you win just please don't whip up a tornado. Just go meet Sparx by the food parlors. I'll find you guys there.”
I felt my body relax and my shoulders lower now that Spyro has conceded. As he turned and walked to the door I stopped him one last time. Before he could speak I gave him a kiss on his scaly lips. After our light lip lock I smiled to him. “I believe in you Spyro.”
Spyro seemed to light up a little and he regained that brightness in his eyes from before we fought Malefor. “Thank you Cynder. Heh, let's hope this guy isn't too much like the stereotypical mentalist.”
I winked trying to mirror his enthusiasm. “Go get em tiger.”
- - -
The mentalist's office was dark thanks to the heavy curtains draped over the windows. The ceiling was high and the general aesthetic was one of a well versed gentleman who was more interested in the advances of the mind than one's physical attributes. Sigmund- Dr. Loomis, was an older cat man who's fur had long since lost its color to the graying of old age. His movements at his mini bar were slow and deliberate as he poured himself a small glass of liquor with three ice cubes.
“Ah Spyro, my receptionist told me someone famous was coming but I did not expect THE Spyro the dragon. Come come have a seat. Is this about Hoggie?” The dapper cat in the tailored brown suit asked as he notioned to offer Spyro a drink which he declined.
“Hoggie?” Spyro asked quizzically. The doc's persona made Spyro want to appear just as collected.
“Yes. I fear he would do something eventually and the Council would have to dispose of him... harshly. But what could he have done to warrant sending the Spyro on his case? Or is that secret?” Sigmund said in his rich draw of an accent.
Spyro sat on- well- by the couch his patients usually laid on to discuss their problems. “Tell me about him.”
The good doctor took a sip of his drink and reeled as it burned down his throat. “Hoggie is a veteran of the war and sadly one of the very very few cases I have not been able to fix. Which leads me to believe he was not exactly all there to begin with. He's a paranoid spaz of a man who thinks everyone is out to get him. Word is he lives in the sewers where Warfangs criminals and mentally unwell tend to reside. Sad case but I guess he could classify as a danger to himself and others but then again who isn't in this city.”
Spyro paused and swallowed at the awkward turn of this situation. “Uhhh actually doc I was hoping I could get your advice.”
The old cat put his glass down. “Oh! I see. I do apologize Spyro. It's not just everyday I get celebrities here.” He left his mini bar to sit in his big leather loveseat. “How can I be of service?”
Spyro rummaged around in his thoughts. Remembered what he told Cynder the night before and burned in shame at having made her worry so. “Well doc, I guess I'm scared- like more than I should be.”
Sigmund barely moved, gave no indication he was judging Spyro. “Could you be a little more detailed please?”
Spyro winced at having to air his emotions. “Well. Ever since Malefor and the world almost ending- well, after that sometimes I get really... really depressed and scared all at once. I either get so forlorn that I don't want to go on or I get so scared I don't want to leave my room.”
Dr. Loomis sat back in his chair and nodded his feline head. He raised his index fingers to his lips. “I see. At the risk of sounding stupid Spyro, have you experienced personal deaths lately?”
Spyro perked up. From the questions Loomis was asking it seemed as though he was seeing the pieces to his puzzle. “Yes! Ignitus- my teacher, former teacher that is. He gave his life so me and Cynder could get through the Ring of Fire and stop Malefor.”
The cat was silent for a moment in contemplation. “Mhmm. I see. And where were you when the world was falling apart?”
“Me and Cynder. We were fighting Malefor at the core of the world. I watched the planet breaking apart around me. We, me and her, were going to die right there when my magic somehow stopped it but-” The purple dragon trailed off.
“I see. Tell me Spyro, are you afraid of death? Or are you afraid of dying?”
Spyro paused in contemplation. Cynder had asked him if he was scared of death... but not of dying. “I.. I think I am. But that's the thing, I've been in countless scenarios where I could have died but why now? Why am I doing this now?” He said in growing exasperation.
As always Dr. Loomis remained undisturbed and collected to an almost haunting degree. “Well Spyro sometimes when tragic or traumatic events happen in too fast a succession they can leave or deepen scars that have not healed. It sounds as though when you lost Ignitus you were ill prepared to face the possibility of you yourself dying. Or possibly Cynder dying since it seems you create strong attachments in relatively short times. Please, I mean no disrespect but what would you do if Cynder had died at your fight with Malefor?”
Spyro felt his shoulders go limp. The very thought of Cynder being struck down just made his soul feel heavy with grief. “I... I don't know. I don't think I could go on if I can be honest.”
“I want you to be honest. And what if you died Spyro?”
Spyro thought to himself. “Well. If I died, I wouldn't be around to exactly be upset.” He said somewhat nonchalantly.
“Indeed. That question was about gauging your response. You are not afraid of death. Dying perhaps but what seems to cause you the most pain is the thought of impermanence: nothing being permanent. And entering battle or dangerous behavior increases the chance of losing things you want to be eternal. Losing Ignitus was the first time you truly experienced this loss through being in high-risk scenarios. And then you almost lost Cynder when the world was nearly destroyed. These two highly traumatic events in rapid succession have scarred you into avoiding risk-taking behavior to a crippling degree.”
Spyro was enraptured by the doctor's spot on evaluation and awaited his thesis. “So... what does that mean doctor?” He said with bated breath.
Loomis sat forward and clasped his hands. “Textbook post-traumatic stress disorder, thanatophobia and symptoms of episodic depression with high anxiety.”
The mentalist's words fell on Spyro like bricks but in his heart Spyro knew he and Cynder were right. He needed help. “H-how can I get better doctor?”
Loomis stood up again and walked back to his mini bar and poured a new drink. “You may feel broken Spyro but you should count your blessings. Your mind is still intact and therefore you can and will overcome this as long as you work at it. For the thanatophobia I recommend coming to terms with the impermanence of all things. All things begin therefore they must end. But there's so so much between the beginning and the end and that is what you have to focus on Spyro. As for the anxiety I recommend exposure therapy. Your mind is intact enough that maybe getting back out there will be enough to get you over your fears. That and staying in regular contact with me and your family.”
- - -
Spyro had been with the mentalist for almost thirty minutes. I expected them to talk for a while so me and Sparx had taken it upon ourselves to explore the city now that it was not under attack by Malefor's golems. Sometimes I wondered if everyday I would think of Malefor or our fight with him. Somehow it felt like he was still alive and present because not a day could pass where my mind would think of 'Malefor this' and 'Malefor that'. Maybe I would think of Malefor everyday, maybe everyone did. Dead as he might be Malefor was still very alive in the public zeitgeist.
As always I had to force myself to stop thinking of Malefor lest I be mired in my thoughts for hours. In our wandering me and Sparx had entered a more affluent part of the city. No mansions of course but this section seemed to belong to the artisans and business owners with stores and massive warehouses. Another distinct feature of this place was the more open streets and patrols of armed guards, police or mercenary.
“Hey Cynder, Sparx! Over here!” A feminine voice called out to us out of nowhere it seemed. Sparx and I exchanged glances and looked for the origin of the call to no avail. The cheeky dragonfly looked just as confused as I.
“Up here you dorks!” She said again. This time we looked up and across the street we saw Elora calling and waiving to us from a balcony!
Elora's workshop was first surrounded by a high stone brick fence with razor wire coiled on the top. Excessive but I guess it would deter would-be intruders. Not to mention we could just fly over but I suppose most of Warfang's population was not skybound. Elora had rushed inside her room once she saw us approach. I imagined to let us in naturally.
“Halt!” A beefy hardened voice commanded. Sparx and I turned and two League paladins strode from the corners to 'greet' us. And I thought the razorwire was excessive. What in the ancestors blood demanded League paladins to be stationed here?! Their exact species could not be determined but when you saw the paladins in their bulky, intimidating ice-white armor with matching full face helmets adorned with golden phoenix wings- mole or rhino, you just felt they could turn you into paste....
“Paladin Helena, Koss. They're my guests! I'm allowed five guests a month. Let them by.” Elora said taking a harder stance than I would have thought possible from the delicate faun woman.
The paladin with the two handed saw blade looked at her. “You are allowed five guests visits a month IF they are approved. How do we know she's not a spy!”
“You do know we could just fly over the wall right?” Sparx chided the hulking righteous duo.
A masculine chuckle escaped the other paladin, Koss. “Ha! Just try little mosquito. Electric force field will turn you a little crispy.”
“Enough you two! Cynder and Sparx are not spies they work for the Council. You're just being troublesome and you know it. Don't make me go hungry again-” Elora scolded the two heavily armed and armored paladins.
The duo were quiet before Koss pressed a button by his station and the gate opened. “Very well Elora but we'll remember this. None push the League. Enter Sparx and Cynder but we're watching you. All Elora has to do is scream and we'll come in hot.”
Elora's standoff inspired me. I scowled at Paladin Helena. “Duley noted. Now if you'll excuse me I have to talk to Elora and there's some kids down the street you can scare in the meantime.” I spat and merrily walked in the gate which closed unceremoniously behind me.
“Let's talk inside guys.” Elora said much calmer now and bade us through her yard which was rather unassuming save for a few benches and trimmed grass.
Inside the workshop we were instantly assaulted by the smell of gasoline, sulfur and rubber all in one industrial cocktail. Multiple projects, prototypes and so many tools I could not hazard a guess at their purpose lay on benches or held aloft by pulleys on the ceiling. The walls had blueprint after blueprint after blueprint tacked on them and as many papers were tacked on the walls triple were wadded up and thrown at an overflowing trashcan.
“Holy cow.” Sparx said to himself in amazement.
“You made ALL this?” I said to Elora in awe.
The young faun blushed and wiped her auburn locks out of her face. “Yes... I do. In fact I was about to start welding when I saw you guys land. I'm glad you guys happened along. I don't get many visitors.”
“How long have you been doing this?” Sparx asked her, still dumbfounded.
“I don't know for sure when I started. I was just always kind of a natural at seeing things, designs, in my head and making them real. I worked with the Warfang masons during my early days. Learned from the masters. What got me 'famous' was just as Malefor came back I had just patented by arcane engine technology. The military bought it and used it for their cannons on the walls. The engines allowed the catapults to fire and be reloaded at the press of a switch- and the repair talismans installed to let anyone be able to repair it in case engineers were not near.”
“I remember those cannons! The three of us and this gunner used them to destroy the siege towers!” I remarked. Memories of the battle for Warfang flashed back and now tinted with the knowledge of Spyro's trauma later.
“That was you!?” Elora said, eyes wide. “I heard of someone manning the cannons but I did not think it was you!”
“And me! I was there! I'm not a helpless foil.” Sparx added.
“A what?” Elora asked confusing us both.
“Oy.” Sparx face-palmed.
Elora showed us around the workshop while regaling us with tales of her inventions. Some good, some.... not so good. She mentioned how one time a flamethrower she was making ended up burning her eyebrows off and how she had to draw her eyebrows on for a month. I did not get it but I don't have eyebrows so I gave a congenial chuckle. The young faun woman seemed too refined to be working in such industrial conditions. She looked more like she belonged at a fashion show playing with dresses instead of welding and forging the League's chainsaw blades together. Her alabaster skin still had the odd soot scuff or oil smudge indicating she had been working before our arrival but other than that she was immaculate.
“By the way what was all that with your friendly door keepers haha.” Sparx joked as he flew past what seemed like a mechanical arm.
Elora's face grimaced at their mention. “I'm sorry you had to see that. You see guys, I'm not exactly here of my own choice...”
“What?” I questioned, narrowing my brow. If she was captive then I was determined to return with Spyro and break her free if need be.
Elora sighed in disappointment. “I'm a victim of my own success. After the war and the rebuilding efforts; well... I am the mother or arcane technology after all. I made the weapons and armor the League uses today- minus MIHI, even that escapes me. But once the Council needed the League's help they asked that I be kept “under protection” by their paladins. Which means the Council won't help me. I'm sure many families would like to be guarded by League paladins but they don't let me leave this workshop, they bring me whatever food I want but I'm lonely and can only work and sleep. That's why I was so happy to have that outing to the site your temple was built at! They say I can have five visits a month but I don't know that many people here anymore. I'm like a prisoner making the League's toys..”
Seeing Elora so glum was chilling. This pseudo-kidnapping had obviously weighed heavy on her spirits. Swept under the legal rug and forced to work all while under the facade of being protected. This only made my disdain for the League boil into outright hatred. The only thing they were protecting was THEMSELVES!
“Elora- you don't have to stay here. We can spring you. The League wouldn't dare come after me and Spyro, especially when we went public about how they've done you!”
“Yeah! I've got a mind to give those meatheads a piece of my mind!” Sparx added.
Elora looked up from a prototype she was moping around with. “Thank you guys but- I do a lot of good here. For better or worse the League DOES defend people from some nasty warlords to the north. They keep the roads clear of bandits and monsters. I... I can deal with it if it means the greater good is served.”
“Elora...” I started.
“Don't worry about it. Forget I said anything. If I wasn't cooped up here I would still be doing the same thing. Designing is in my blood, now I'm just designing for the League. Besides. I'm almost done with my next masterpiece.” Elora said and raised a shudder from the floor.
I wanted to press the subject but I could tell from her tone change that she did not wish to. What she revealed however did catch our attentions. Inside the next modular of her workshop was a humanoid suit of armor but unlike any suit I had ever seen before. It looked less like armor and more like a vehicle in the shape of a bipedal creature. It was big, bulkier than Helena and Koss even and intimidating even in this unfinished state.
“What in the ancestors name is that?” I asked aloud in curious awe.
“I call it: the AMCA suit or Arcane Motorized Combat Apparatus. The League wanted some kind of suit or apparatus than any sized person could enter and assume command of. I practically had to redesign the arcane engine mk III into the mk IV version but with the built-n engine it should give the user tripled strength and endurance. Not to mention the weapon add-ons I'll be making. With this suit, the average soldier become super. A walking tank of a trooper.” Elora said with a certain glee in her eyes.
“And you want to give the League this design?” I interjected her reverie.
She turned to us and looked a bit ashamed. “Well... yes, they kind of own the design legally. And me too in a sense....”
I looked back at the prototype tank armor. It was imposing even for an unfinished project. Tubes ran along the ground to the machine. Plates were missing exposing the metal chassis underneath. The helmet was more industrial in theme with not a cruel visor but a cold machine-like visor compared to the League's armor that oozed with pride. I swallowed hard at the thought of the League mass deploying a weapon like these.
Every soldier, a super soldier....
Category Story / Fanart
Species Western Dragon
Gender Multiple characters
Size 82 x 120px
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