A Duel with Destiny: The Power of Time
If you don't know my other fanfiction 'The Legend of Spyro: A Duel with Destiny' and you've come here hoping to read a story, then perhaps you should look elsewhere.
A click on my username, a scroll down my profile page, and another quick click in the 'My Stories' section will get you to this story as it was originally meant to be read. I encourage you to flick across to that story, if you're here for the plot, romance, action and excitement of a Spyro fanfiction. (and a pretty good story it is, if I do say so myself)
If you're here because you've read and enjoyed Destiny already, then I hope that you'll enjoy this spinoff just as much.
The sun was setting over the city, its dying light tainted the low clouds a deep bloody red. A dragon stood upon a rooftop garden, facing the west, still as a stone statue. The sun faded, night rose, the stars were hidden by deep black clouds.
A storm was brewing. Rain lashed the city, lightning split the sky, at each flash the dragon was revealed, still standing in its place. A few late dragons arrived at the city that night, something momentous was meant to happen tomorrow. A freezing hour passed, the dragon did not move, a second hour went by, then more followed until at last midnight approached. The storm tore itself into oblivion and silence reigned. Midnight was a fine time for dark business, but the dragon on the rooftop still let the time go by.
At last in the third hour of the morning a shadowy figure descended from the roof and followed the grand spiral staircase down. Four dragons took the stairs in the minutes after three AM but no meeting took place and no alarm was raised. The dragon continued its silent journey.
A traitor waited at the foot of the stairs, after a deep bow they led the dragon into the depths of the city. Two guards on either side of a door lay still and silent, dead or unconscious the dragon neither knew nor cared. Down to the vaults of the city, the traitor stood to guard the door, like the original guards had, albeit in a more successful fashion. Chests locked by powerful magic ground open as the dragon passed. The contents of two of these chests would not be found in the morning. A crystal trapped in a prison of black iron, and a pair of snake charms, such as might be put around the necks of a pair of young dragons...
The traitor looked into the vault after several quiet minutes had passed, it was empty. They entered the room and looked over the chests. As they carefully took the item the dragon had left behind they were struck with a disturbing feeling, perhaps the room was not as empty as it appeared. With a shiver of fear the traitor returned to their own sleeping chamber, sleep did come, but they were tormented by nightmares until dawn.
Earlier that day:
Cynder the black dragon, former terror of the skies, twisted under the monster's furious attack. With the ease of long practice she danced behind it and struck out with her long bladed tail. She should have cut skin, and the elemental poison in her strike should have ended the fight then, but that wasn't going to happen. This was an elite troll and it wore a mask of earthy green, that mask had saved it when the creature known as The Destroyer had destroyed the world. The world hadn't quite been properly destroyed, it hadn't even been destroyed very well, but that's what had happened: almost three years ago, the world was destroyed.
Cynder's wings spread and she skipped gracefully over the troll's back, her agility made her untouchable. The troll seemed untouchable too, only earth elemental attacks would knock that mask off.
"Spyro!" Cynder cried, but no purple dragon came to her aid.
She had lost him.
Cynder felt her eyes fill with tears and blinked them back angrily; she shouldn't have been crying, it wasn't like Spyro was even dead. She just hadn't been able to keep him. That hurt her feelings and her pride more than Cynder would ever willingly admit. Cynder nearly paid for her lack of attention, the troll's gnarled fist missed her by inches. Cynder rose and hovered above the beast like a hawk, her manipulation of the wind made the action seem weightless and effortless. She glanced around looking for a way to win her battle. A nearby cliff held possibilities, as she taunted the monster over to the cliff, antagonizing it with gusts of wind and Siren Screams, Cynder couldn't help but think of the past.
The three months that followed the defeat of the purple dragon Malefor and the "end" of the world had been the best of Cynder's not very nice life. She and Spyro, connected by a chain of magic and their shared love, exploring the new world, playing and celebrating, fighting the hapless remnants of the evil dragon's army and sleeping together under the stars.
Cynder could have lived like that forever.
It was Spyro's sense of duty that drew them back to the Dragon Temple, where they had been just eggs, they had found it a ruin, destroyed in war and abandoned. Spyro had been saddened by its loss. The two of them had travelled, at Spyro's request, to the city of Warfang, which had been damaged but was not irreparable. Spyro's kind heart, Cynder loved him for it, but after three short months of happiness it was that which brought her back to the whispers, mutterings and cold disapproval that haunted Cynder in a way that Malefor's strongest magic never had.
Cynder thought she feared nothing, anyone who had seen her fight would agree, seeing her tearing into entire legions of murderous foes with Spyro by her side. Cynder had no fear of pain or battle, that was true, but what Cynder hadn't known was that she feared her fellow dragons.
She was beautiful, brave, clever and far more powerful, but Cynder was completely helpless against this new enemy. Cynder had been sure the magical chain that bound Spyro and her together would give her unshakable claim to Spyro's time and affection, but it took only days for some audacious dragon to turn that against her.
"Cynder is still evil; the Terror of the Skies is still a wicked demon dragon and puppet to Malefor. Only heroic Spyro is strong enough to restrain her, he keeps her as a slave and a paramour; she serves him like a pet. You don't believe me? Then tell me: Why are they chained together?"
Rumours were more powerful than even Cynder's fear magic, no amount of logical reasoning or outright denial from her or Spyro could wash away the taint this cast on their new relationship. Cynder knew that chain had to be removed, it had to be.
Spyro accepted this for her sake and after over a month of torturous whispering the magic was broken and the snake bands of the chain hidden in the vaults of Warfang. To Cynder's relief this did stop the rumours, but now that it was possible for her and Spyro to be apart from each other every dragon that had ever disapproved of her made certain they saw as little of each other as possible. Eventually Cynder had given up, she had run away, perhaps she would simply be a pariah, outcast, a shadow on the edge of the new world, forever alone. Perhaps that would be easier.
Travelling and fighting and sleeping under the stars, it just wasn't the same without Spyro, she dealt with it, moved on, but every now and then something would cruelly remind her of the life she had given up, Spyro.
How dare this troll wear an earthen mask? How dare it remind her of the dragon she cared for most in this world? Cynder dived from on high; black smoky flames engulfed the beast. Cynder slashed and kicked, determined to make the beast hurt as much as she had, it had no effect. Cynder's anger gave her strength; three years of growth had seen her grow to just under the size of a full grown dragon and develop into a beautiful young dragon, not unlike the image Malefor had created for her when she was the terror of the skies, feared the world over for her power. And she was powerful. Cynder hooked her claws around the troll and screamed in anger and then she threw the both of them over the cliff.
Cynder's wings unfurled and she watched coldly as the troll plunged to the ground. The mask went flying from its monstrous face; clearly the impact with the earth below its feet was sufficient damage from the right source. Now it could be harmed. The troll was slowly getting up but that was fine as Cynder wasn't done yet.
The unfortunate elite enemy looked up just in time to see the entire cliff land on its head. Cynder relaxed as she floated down from on high, breathing deeply. Cynder landed on the pile of rubble in a spectacularly stylish manner, looking good was habit to her now.
Cynder made sure to look her best even when there was nobody around, except there was someone; a shadow flew overhead, a dragon. Cynder looked up, the dragon was silver and slim with delicate wings, a female, Cynder remained silent until she saw the choker around the new dragon's neck, it was a stylish piece of jewellery like the one Cynder had once worn. Now Cynder called a greeting. The dragoness landed before her.
"Hello Imperia." Cynder smiled.
Imperia's name did not suit her, she was not imperious at all, she was one of the very few dragons who had ever been truly kind to Cynder, strangely Volteer was the other.
Imperia was uniquely famous for her infamous non-uniqueness, Imperia had an identical twin sister Altia. Both were wind dragons and so alike that Imperia had taken to wearing her choker so that dragons could tell them apart. Cynder didn't usually need to see the choker, as Altia detested Cynder almost as much as Imperia cared for her, and one always looked kind while the other appeared to be permanently sucking on a lemon.
Cynder viewed Imperia as both a teacher in the extraordinary art of wind magic and as the mother figure the younger dragoness had never known or expected.
The two dragons stayed in contact, every two weeks they met at the ruined Dragon Temple, where they would spend a day together, taking a class, playing or just talking. Imperia had kept Cynder sane during her solitude.
Imperia was knowledgeable, graceful and seductive. She was also an excellent teacher, although according to her Cynder was just an excellent pupil. Imperia was also, Cynder was aware, a master at manipulating others. When Imperia wanted something she always got it.
"I want you to come back to Warfang." Imperia said.
Cynder didn't dismiss this entirely out of hand, but she wasn't impressed.
"Why?"
"Because being alone like this isn't good for you, Cynder."
"You should have brought this up two years ago, I can't just go crawling back now! If it was bad before, now it's all just going to be even worse. I won't beg to these dragons, I refuse to."
"I know, but if you can't bring yourself to return now then I'll bet that you never will, besides-" Imperia's mood brightened and she smiled mysteriously. "There's nothing better for fixing estrangement issues than a disaster."
"Estrangement issues?"
"An apt description I'd say."
"Estrangement issues. Hmm, fine, but how can a disaster fix this?"
"It's a classical scenario: A group of dragons, who don't like each other, such as a dysfunctional family, go on holiday, to a theme park maybe. While they're there a disaster happens, for example dinosaurs might rampage around and try to kill everyone."
"What's a dinosaur?"
"It's like a wingless dragon, they have no magic either, but they come in lots of different shapes and sizes."
"That doesn't sound very dangerous."
"That's beside the point. Anyway, dinosaurs attack, they eat "that guy", the one that nobody likes, everyone bands together to survive, together they solve the problem, escape the dinosaurs, have a heartwarming reunion scene and live happily ever after."
"I could take on a wingless dragon without magic any day. Is that what's happening, are these dinosaur things attacking Warfang?"
"What? No, they all died a really long time ago."
"Serves them right, what sort of dragon can't fly? It's hardly a dragon at all, more like a troll."
Cynder glanced down at the rubble beneath her feet.
"Forget dinosaurs, the point is that disasters bring people together, so now is the best chance we have to bring you back to Warfang."
"I don't care if dinosaurs do eat everyone, I'm not going."
Imperia sighed, this left her with either telling the whole truth or...
"Spyro wants you back."
"He what? Did Spyro say that, my Spyro?" There wasn't another one around surely?
"Your Spyro, Yes, All he does is train and train; he barely notices the attention of dragonesses his age. Only a few of us see him regularly now, and he demands that I tell him how you're faring every time I've come to see you. He misses you just as much as you miss him."
Cynder sighed.
"Which way is Warfang again?"
"North. Come on, I assume you don't have any things to get before we leave?"
Cynder shook her head.
"Excellent! I can give you a lesson on the way." Imperia smiled, Cynder smiled too, if reluctantly, and both dragons began the flight to Warfang; Spyro and a mysterious disaster were waiting for them.
Oh this brings back memories... It's strange to think that I was the one who wrote this. And now that many of you know who the traitor is I'm sure it'll put these early chapters in a brand new light.
I'd like to think that I've improved since I wrote this, but that's for you to decide, I suppose.
This chapter, for reference's sake, is 2,277 words long. I'll be posting old and new chapters together in pairs, so that you can look between them.
I could rant at length about the problems I have with this chapter. Probably focusing most on the awkward changes of scene, the relatively brief dialogue, the weird way that there is an 'earlier that day' leading to what was technically the day before depending on how you interpret what happens... blarg. Oh, and let's not forget the elephant in the room: 260 words of this chapter are made up of a bad Jurassic Park reference.
This chapter isn't bad, indeed it's fairly good as far as Fanfiction goes, but it's not my best. Now it's time for the part that most of you actually want to read: the new stuff!
I'll see you there. ;)
-4Dragons