A Duel with Destiny: The Power of Time

Back in Black: Rewritten

That's right: Here we go again. It's chapter one, but not as you know it.

If you approve of this chapter, then someday soon it's very likely that this will be the opening chapter of Destiny. More on that in the author's note at the end of this chapter.

But first: The story.

Cynder dived under the ferocious attack of the monster. She slid low around its legs, her long tail whipping and her steely tail blade gleaming with poison.

Her attacks bounced off its throat and belly harmlessly, despite hitting her targets with perfect accuracy.

The monster was a troll, a huge beast about the size of a full grown dragon but much heavier and bulkier. It was green and its thick tough hide made it look as if its body was made out of mossy rock. It had four legs, the front two of which had huge bulging fists that it swung like clubs trying to strike her down.

Any normal troll would have been a laughable challenge for Cynder, she was a grown dragon now and a master fighter. This one, however, wore a mask of earthy green which was covered with powerful sigils that protected the beast from all attacks except earth magic.

Cynder was much faster than the troll was; she darted back in front of it and slashed at its throat, then jumped off the ground, ramming it with her shoulder before darting out of the way.

The troll staggered slightly, vulnerable to an attack.

"Spyro!" Cynder shouted, but no purple dragon flew in to help.

She had lost him.

Cynder snarled, her eyes brimming with sudden tears. The troll recovered and swung a mighty overhand blow, but she took to the air in one smooth movement and the troll roared in frustration as it missed.

Cynder blinked the tears away angrily; she had wasted enough time crying. It wasn't like Spyro was dead, she had just lost him.

The black dragoness glanced around. The landscape was wild, covered with forests and broken up by hills and valleys. There were mountains in the distance. Cynder looked down again, considering the problem of the troll and trying not to think about Spyro. It was hard; he was always in her head, the possibilities of what might have been, and what might still be.

Cynder knew that her situation was her own fault, and the shame of what had happened stung her pride deeply.

She focused blades of wind on her wingtips and flicked them at the troll, paining the beast but not harming it. It leaped, a remarkable feat for such a heavy creature, but Cynder drifted higher and it fell short. She didn't even bother flapping her deep red wings; the slightest shifts of wind magic could take her wherever she wanted to go.

She could fly back to Warfang if she wanted to, it'd be easy. But everybody would still be there, and she knew that things wouldn't have gotten any better. In fact it was likely that everything had only gotten a whole lot worse.

She refused to fly back to Warfang, she didn't want to go anywhere near that place.

The troll bounded forwards and hurled itself into the air again. It was quite determined. Cynder looked down at it scornfully, and then she glanced around looking for a way to kill it.

There was a cliff, not too far away, if the troll jumped from the top of it then the fall might kill it. Cynder began to kite the creature over towards the cliff, taunting it with gusts of wind that made it stumble. She hung in the air just within the creature's reach, while still effortlessly evading all of its attacks.