Epilogue

Somewhere in the blackness, a lone being stirred. Coughing blood, he attempted to stand, but the pain in his body was too great and he collapsed to the floor once more. Blood dribbling from his mouth and side, he resigned himself to his fate: death, alone in some ancestor's-forsaken pit. At least he could die knowing he had finished his work… Maybe he'd see her again when the time came. The purple dragon rested his head on the warm stone and slowly closed his eyes, waiting for the cold embrace that was sure to come.

Lapsing into unconsciousness, he began to dream.

The purple dragon was in a familiar white stone room, soft cushions of purple and gold lying near another pile of black and magenta. The purple curtain leading to the balcony fluttered in a warm summer's breeze. Behind the curtain, he noticed the form of the black dragoness he cared for so deeply, standing idle and gazing somewhere over the city.

He heard a small diminutive voice, seemingly coming from Cynder's feet. Cynder looked down and spoke in turn, but not loud enough for him to hear. Curious, the purple dragon moved towards the curtain, the pads of his paws not making any noise. He moved the curtain aside to see a young white dragon curled around Cynder's feet.

The purple dragon snapped back into reality, coughing more blood over the volcanic floor.

He lifted his right paw and reached forward, clasping the first pawhold he could find. Despite what felt like a white-hot lance in his side, the purple dragon pulled his body forward. Gasping for air and trying to clear his throat, he rested, then reached out once more and pulled, and once more rested.

After what felt like hours in utter agony, he glimpsed a light through the dark. He pulled once more, encouraged, the wound in his side gushing blood. He felt his vision going black. Trying to hold on to consciousness, he grasped at the dream or vision, whatever it was, and drew strength. After resting, he began the last few feet of his arduous journey.

Emerging into the veiled sunlight, his vision went dark and his head fell to the ground.

*.*.*

Sparx fluttered about the dragonfly village, on his way home from doing some chores for a neighbor. It had been several weeks since Spyro and Cynder had left him there.

"Gotta keep busy, ya know… Keep the muscles in shape, yeah." He had developed a habit of talking to himself. Mom had chalked it up to not having Spyro around.

The dragonfly flittered into the main circle of little dragonfly houses, a cozy little grove. The last of the evening sun was beginning to leave the inside of the deep forest. The crickets had just begun to chirp their incessant song. Sparx made his way over to his parent's home, casually flying through the opening.

"Back!" he announced to the small household. It was actually bigger than the home in the former swamp, but Sparx still found it too small. Mom once again explained that he was used to the giant apartments of Warfang now.

"Hey, honey, dinner is there on the table," he heard his mom yell from somewhere deeper in the trunk.

He moved to the little wooden bowl that had been carved, and was about to chow on the little greens and flowers. A gust of wind came blowing through the trunk, scattering his food all over the floor.

"Aww, come on." Sparx reached to pick up the bits that had been blown on the ground, only for another gust of wind to scatter them again.

"What's the big idea?!" he shouted in frustration.

A loud thud from outside answered him. The golden dragonfly flew back outside to see what had happened to answer his question, and when he did he froze in shock.

There, the black dragoness Cynder was lying on the ground.

"Mom!" he shouted back into the house and then rushed to her side as fast as his wings could carry him. He noticed she was crying, tears streaming down her face. "Cynder, are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where's Spyro?" The little dragonfly felt the questions burst forth before he could breathe.

"What is it, Sparx?!" He heard his mother call from back in the direction of the house, quickly followed by, "Oh dear… Flash, get out here!"

Sparx flitted down upon Cynder's head to stare into her eyes. "Cynder, what's wrong?!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed, covering her face with her paws.

"Cynder, what's wrong?" Sparx clamored, trying to remove her paw from her face.

Nina arrived with Flash trailing behind. She flitted up to Cynder as well, taking over for Sparx. Speaking to her in a kind, soothing tone only a mother could manage, she said, "There, there, Cynder. You're okay. Shhh… Deep breaths. What's wrong?"

Sparx could feel something opening up in his gut, as if he had eaten far too many butterflies at once.

Cynder broke her sob just long enough to say two words. "Spyro's dead."

Nina stared at the broken dragoness for a moment, her wings slowly coming to a stop, and plummeted.

Flash rushed to her aid. "Nina!" he called, rushing to where she had crash-landed beside Cynder.

"She's fainted. Stay with Cynder, Sparx. I'm going to get Nina home."

*.*.*

Once more, a congregation of Warfang had gathered, this time to celebrate. Banners of red embroidered with the gold symbol of the fire element hung from the buildings surrounding the courtyard. On the white marble stage, all three of the Guardians sat in ceremonial armor that matched their scales and elements.

Volteer wore bright gold, blue sapphires adorning his shoulders. The metal reached to the tip of his tail, where it tapered off to form a lightning bolt. Cyril's armor was light blue. Many pointed peaks rose from his back and shoulders, and pale white diamonds replaced the sapphires. Terrador stood at the podium, speaking, jade-green armor covering him. Dark rubies were encrusted within, as if still buried in the earth.

"…Today we have gathered to recognize the next Fire Guardian candidate. As you all know, the late Ignitus has been gone from us for some time." The great green dragon paused for a moment, remembering his best friend and leader. "However, we are not here to remember the dead, but to celebrate the accomplishments of the living. We will now introduce the candidate."

The crowd of several hundred applauded briefly, and stopped when Terrador turned to his fellow Guardians.

Volteer stepped forward. "I name Flame, son of Infernus, as our candidate."

The crowd once more applauded.

Cyril stepped to the front of the Guardians. "I name Flame, son of Sindaralin, as our candidate."

Once more applause.

Terrador now reached the front, and spoke in his thundering voice, "I name Flame, son of Warfang, as our candidate."

The crowd thundered the applause.

Flame, after a small nudge from Flare, moved up onto the stage, dressed in red and orange armor specially made for this occasion. He took a position next to Terrador, trying not to stare at the tremendous crowd before him.

Terrador then spoke again, voice carrying far for all to hear. "Flame, thanks to your accomplishments at such a young age, my fellow Guardians and I have decided unanimously that you are the preeminent Fire Guardian candidate."

Terrador went to the back of the line, letting Volteer take his position. His fast speech filled the courtyard. "Do you solemnly swear to uphold the laws and traditions of Warfang?"

"I do," Flame answered as loud as he could.

The crowd applauded and whistled and whooped, until Cyril took his turn. "Do you swear to bring forth the common good of all citizens and dragons everywhere?"

"I do," he answered again.

The crowd let loose with noise.

Terrador then took his position at the head of the line once more. Clearing his throat, he let loose a bellow, "I present our future Fire Guardian!"

The crowd lost it. Red confetti was dumped from the roof tops. Flare joined the new Guardian up on the stage and nuzzled his armored cheek. Then, from out beyond Warfang, fireballs streamed up into the air and exploded. The crowd went even crazier, watching the display. Terrador leaned over to the newly proclaimed candidate.

"Nice touch."

Flame hesitated for a moment. "I didn't have it done…"

The Guardian stared at him incredulously for a moment. Shrugging, he turned back to the celebration, even stamping his own paws in congratulations.

Flare then noticed the black dragoness in her silver armor solemnly standing off stage by herself. She left the stage during the continuing uproar and reached the lone dragoness. Cynder remained motionless.

"Hey," Flare called over the dying uproar.

The red dragoness was barely able to hear her response. "Hey."

Flare stood around for a moment, looking at the crowds as they shuffled about before thinking of something to say. "There's a feast with the Guardians tonight. Are you going?"

"No…" she answered.

Flare stared at her friend's emerald eyes. "Well, if there is anything you need…let me know, alright?"

"Alright," the black dragoness answered. She then turned and left by way of the back entrance without another word.

Flare sighed and whispered to herself, "Time heals all wounds… I hope."

Cynder made her way into the street crowded with enthusiastic dragons of all sizes and colors. Looking only at the stones at her feet, she began the walk to her home. Sparx and his parents were there, but they had avoided the festival. Rowdy, boisterous adult dragons were unsafe for dragonflies.

Pushing past another group of celebrants, she bumped into someone. She whispered a barely audible "sorry" to the red drake before moving on.

"Sorry."

The voice made her instantly look around. Realizing it came from behind, she turned only to see a red and orange tail. It seemed to almost glitter with the colors of fire before disappearing into an alley.

Cynder rushed to the alleyway, but when she looked around the corner she saw no one. Looking up, she saw no sign of any dragon having taken flight, and the alley was a complete dead end.

Cynder stared at the wall of the building that headed off the bare and empty alley. She stood a moment longer before turning around and heading back towards her home. That voice… It had sounded so…familiar.

*.*.*

Opening the door just before his master's chamber with his furry blue-haired arm, a lone ape stood silently, taking a moment to compose himself. Being the aid to the master was a good job, but it meant a lot of contact with him—contact that could very likely end his life if his news was too displeasing.

A rush of confidence overcame him. This news wasn't bad in the slightest. In fact…this might be the best news he could ever deliver. It could even earn him something, perhaps a shiny jewel or even a freshly-smithed sword, or some land somewhere.

Swinging the door open, he pressed forward, careful to not walk too quickly or slowly. He bowed upon entering the chamber, then halfway to His Excellency, he genuflected on one knee. When he was within sword's distance, he once more curtsied beneath the high throne.

A deep, gritty voice emanated from up on the throne. "What is it, Kaz'uul? Remember what happened to the last one to waste my time?"

"A most righteous punishment he deserved, my lord, but I bear great news," Kaz'uul answered, careful not to look upon his sovereign.

"Be quick," was the only reply.

"We have received confirmed reports from our network…" The ape on the throne began to stir. "…that the purple dragon is dead."

Even from where he stood with his head bowed, Kaz'uul could see the toothy grin of his master.

"This is most excellent news you bring. Now, be gone before you anger me."

"Yes, Lord Kane, as your high sovereign wishes."

The lowly ape retreated quickly from the throne room, closing the doors behind him. In his wake, the ape upon the throne chuckled darkly to himself.

"Most excellent news indeed…"

And we're all done! Thank you everyone who has put their time into reviewing. It was a long journey, way longer than I expected but a good one nonetheless. I made many friends from this site, on the forums and elsewhere. And now I'd like to point out two very special people, who made this story possible.

-DragonMaster000

and

-RiverStyxx

Aside from both being top notch authors they both made this story what it is. Dragon picked up being the beta somewhere halfway through, and he's been trudging through my terrible grammar ever since. And River for giving me the original inspiration to start writing, and out of kindness to make the cover art for this story.

Now a few more things. I will be marking this story as complete as of now. However, I will be going back in time to improve the first 10 chapters or so. They make my eyes bleed. So if you see this back up top, you can ignore it for the most part. (Unless of course you want to read it again xD)There will be only one very teeny little plot addition that comes to fruition later in the series.

Finally, I will be taking a small break. *Dodges tomatoes* I want to get a few chapters ahead of what I'm posting for Degradation. So when I run into times where I have little ability to write I can throw one out there and not make everyone wait for a month. It should be started by December, and this gives plenty of time for River to do the next cover art if she is willing.

Again thank you everyone.