Call of the Ancestors

Chapter 1

The end of the world began quietly for the City of Warfang.

The sun had just begun to poke up above the western mountains that towered over the City, and most of the city's inhabitants had just begun to stretch their legs and wings, going about their business.

Not Miarko, however.

He wasn't much of a morning person, and it certainly showed on a weekday mornings such as this one. The Fire Dragon was spread out over his bed, four legs facing one way, his tail another, wings widely spread out over an area behind him. He was snoring lightly as his brain began to turn back on and he woke up slowly. He opened his eyes slightly, only to immediately shut them again as a bright ray of light hit his vision.

"Note to self, remember to close the curtains before going to bed at night," he thought to himself before rolling over to the other side of the bed and getting a better position to open his eyes. He yawned and rose up slowly, now out of the sun's piercing gaze. Sighing to himself, he brought up his full muscular form out of the set of cushions making out his resting place, and walked to the nearby washroom that was adjoined to his living space. Fully opening his eyes, he began to examine himself.

Miarko was a maroon scaled fire dragon, with darker scales than others of his element possessed. Black features and frills dotted his face in several positions around his chin and lower snout. He remembered when he was just a younger dragon, and only had the one single black frill under his chin. He laughed at the thought and moved a paw to grab a soap bar and polish his four black horns that dotted the top of his head and the series of thorn-like frills that ran down his back towards his tail. Unlike many other dragons, Miarko did not have a tail blade at the end of his tail, and it instead ended with a simple membrane, much like that of a cheetah or canine. Next, the Fire Dragon took the bar and scrubbed underneath his belly, scrubbing the gray scales that made up his lower body and his polished and refined white claws.

He looked himself over once more with his sharp blue eyes, taking in every feature to make sure that he was in tip-top shape. Nodding to himself that everything was satisfactory, he moved to to the other side of the washroom and turned on a faucet that lead into a small bathtub. It was built for dragons, but the moles had constructed it and had made...slightly incorrect assumptions regarding the sizes of the young adult ages of dragons, of which Miarko considered himself a member. The Fire Dragon took a few minutes to freshen up every portion of his body (especially his lower body). Making sure that all of his scales were polished, he stepped out of the tub and shook off the water. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time to do what he dreaded the most.

Actually getting up for the day and getting the things done that he needed to get done.

There were no meeting scheduled for the Fire Dragon today, as his squad had no new reports to share with his superiors. A seasoned warrior such as himself might have thought that working under the two dragons that he did would be a bit more...entertaining. Nevertheless, work is still work. And being late never makes a good impression…

Groaning at the thought, the Fire Dragon looked at the nearby case in the bedroom, which housed his formal armor. Normally, he would don the set to go to his position for the day, but on a calm day such as this one, there was no need. He took one last glance at the mirror on the other side of the room, and exited out onto the balcony nearby. Spreading and flapping his wings for a moment (and making sure the door to the room was locked), Miarko dove off the balcony and soared down to the street below.

Warfang had changed greatly in the years following the defeat of Malefor. The Great Purple Dragon, Spyro, had expended a great amount of energy to reform the planet around its crystalline core, but the reforming process hadn't exactly been perfect. Crags shot out from many places on the surface, forming floating islands in many places in and around Warfang. These drops dotted the landscape below with steep and usually assumed dangerous craters, along with piles of rubble which had formerly been houses or constructs which hadn't stayed on their respective floating landmasses. One such building was the Dragon Temple, which was completely obliterated during the final battle as it tumbled down into the great Volcano the Destroyer had used to enter the world itself. In the days following the "Great Reforming" as most inhabitants of the realms had began to call it, it had made travel for the land-bound races of the Realms almost completely impossible, and they had had to rely on the assistance of the only sky-bound race in existence, what remained of Dragonkind. The Moles had constructed ways to get up to the portions of the City that had been raised in the event, but not all of the constructions were perfect. There had been deaths in the early days of the process, but the constructions had become more and more stable in the ten years since the War.

Miarko himself lived on one such floating island near the center of Warfang. It was a humble living, but it had taken getting used to, having to fly upwards at a much greater elevation. Being this high above sea level made it harder to breathe, but most individuals had gotten used to it over time.

The Fire Dragon still hated flying up to it in his armor either way.

Miarko was headed for a specific place, the headquarters of the Defenders of Warfang.

The DOW, as they were normally referred to as by the residents of Warfang, were a peacekeeping group lead by warriors that had defended Warfang and the Realms during the War. Many of their number had remained with the organization since its founding immediately following the defeat of Malefor, and the DOW had prospered for ten years as a viable organization, even paired with Warfang's own army.

Miarko had been young at the time at the Siege of Warfang and the subsequent downfall of Malefor. He was still a young adult by draconian standards, but he had grown wiser in his older age. He was still a kid at heart though, his sister always made sure to let him know about how immature he could be at times.

Descending to the ground, Miarko looked upwards at his destination. The DOW had claimed one of the taller towers in the Dragon City, and they had needed every square meter. It was a large complex, and towered above the smaller buildings in its district, and was almost entirely occupied. The Fire Dragon walked inside the skyscraper, never minding the, as per tradition, very beautifully and brightly decorated lobby, built out of marble and other different vibrant colors in classic Warfangian architectural style. And began ascending the floors to his office.

Miarko was a Captain in the organization, and commanded the 17th Platoon of the DOW. Somewhat unironically, the Fire Dragon's office was on the 17th floor of the building. He was sure that the Engineers of the building had had a laugh at that one.

He unlocked the door to the small space and set down his pack on the desk inside. He sighed and noticed that a note was on his desk. A common occurrence, the Fire Dragon picked it up and set it aside for later reading. The floor was mostly quiet this time of morning, rarely did most of the Captain's inferiors have to come in this early in the morning. Off-days such as this one had become the majority of Miarko's working life. The worst conflicts that the 17th had to face were petty brawls and the occasional bandit raid on caravans outside of the walls. While the DOW were considered defenders of Warfang, the title extended to many portions of the continent on which the City sat upon, and many outlying settlements fell under the jurisdiction of Warfang and her protectors. Tall Plains, The Valley of Avalar and the swamps surrounding the long Silver River, to mention just a few.

A few minutes after Miarko had entered his office, there was a light knock at the door.

Shuffling through the papers that he wasn't reading, Miarko shouted, "Please, enter!"

The door opened slowly, and a dragon's head poked through. One of the soldiers under Miarko; he spoke quickly, "Sir. Leaders are waiting for you upstairs, sir."

Miarko groaned. He knew that he had missed something. Turning to the other side of the desk, he looked around for the note that he had noticed at the beginning of the morning.

Turning it over, he read, "Miarko, meet me in my office once you get here. We have some details to go over concerning the last caravan raid. -S"

Miarko nodded his head silently in thanks to the soldier that had brought him the message, who saluted and walked away, leaving the door open. Miarko picked himself up out of his chair and stretched his legs. He was not prepared for this meeting, not in the slightest. Why had he forgotten to bring the armor?

Sighing to himself, the Fire Dragon ascended the stairs to the top floor of the building. There was only a small waiting room on this floor, plus the offices of the individuals that he was to be meeting with. He sat in one of the chairs here, looking at a clock on the wall for reference. It was time for the meeting, but no one else was present in the lobby. Perhaps they were downstair-

"Miarko," came a sudden voice from behind one of the doors. It was cracked open slightly, inviting the Fire Captain to come in. Miarko stretched out his forepaw for a few moments and took in a deep breath, and slowly entered the office, pushing the door open.

Even though he had been in the room plenty of times in the past, the sheer weight of it never ceased to blow him away. It was an ornate room, with the best office-esque furniture that Warfangian gems could buy. Hand-carved mahogany desk and armoire, beautifully crafted windows that seemed to look out onto the entire Dragon City, and bookcases that seemed to stretch up to the ceiling, All sorts of tomes filled the shelves, and Miarko had borrowed a selection from here once. He wasn't much of a reader himself, but the owner of the office certainly was.

Miarko stopped at the foot of the desk and saluted. Two individuals stood on the other side of the room, talking to each other.

The male turned to face him first, waving a paw, "Please, Captain, dispense with the pleasantries. You know that type of thing drives me insane."

Miarko shrunk an eye in realization, bringing his head back up to level and nodded. He still had difficulty finding the correct way to greet him.

It wasn't every day that the Fire Dragon got to have a meeting with the saviors of the Realms, Spyro and Cynder.

It is dark. Darker and yet darker.

Well…

Every morning, every moment is actually pretty dark in Sethelis' case. Probably due to her housing having one big window in the room which she calls "Bedroom". And that window is more than often covered in thick wine-red drapes. Covering her room in complete darkness if she'd wish to sleep. However, Sethelis knows that this isn't the time for sleeping, as she can tell by light seeping in from under the thin line of empty space between the door to her bedroom and the rest of her living area.

The dragoness groaned to herself. She had had a late night last night, and not gained one minute of shut eye until she could see the sun rising again. Even if she had been several hundred meters up in the skies at that moment, which usually means that one can see the sun earlier than those at ground level, she had managed to get back to base, at least start with the outline of what would become her report for the previous successful mission which she had completed earlier the same evening.

However 5 hours of sleep is not enough.

Not even remotely, if she wants to stay in a somewhat less grumpy mood. Luckily she has some new recruits to take it out on in the morning.

"Rising early does have it's rewards… In a way." The dragoness thought to herself, opening one sickly yellow eye. The slitted pupil seemingly grew thinner as she realised one… Very… Simple… Thing.

She needs to get up.

And to work. That report must be in, and given to the high command within…

She would roll out of her nest of warm blankets and cozy cushions to rapidly (Too rapidly for her own eye's liking) pull the curtains aside with the tip of her tail and her left frontal paw. It seems like she had slept longer than she thought.

Cursing herself under her own breath, Sethelis would rapidly turn around, rush past the stand opposed to her nest keeping a very tidily and well kept armor ready to be put on within the time lapse of less than two minutes. It consists of several pieces of metal, well kept and shining in a odd way, given the material it is made of. The armor is forged out of a special alloy, known as Dark Steel. A special mixture of raw metals which was discovered by moles centuries ago, being as hard and as durable as the strongest iron armor plates, but yet allowing acrobatic and, or, swifter maneuvers. Intricately covered in a pattern resembling the the soft swirls of the shadow element.

It is said that Dark Steel has the ability to absorb light, but if that was true, then she would most likely never take it off, and that would be…. Disconcerting. If not uncomfortable. Wearing a set of armor over a prolonged amount of time usually makes one sore. Especially around the wing joints, which in itself is a pain.

Sethelis would proceed out into a small hallway, which branched out into a bigger living room, housing a cooking pit which sent out an amber glow along with the torches scattered across the walls. Said which is also where the entrance to her home is located. Not that it is ever used.

And only rarely, she doesn't get too many visitors, and the few she has had over the last 3 months has all been work related. She sighs at the thought; "You're sooo lonely." she taunted herself within her thoughts, before rapidly slipping back into her bedroom. And grabbing the pieces of armor under both her wings and in her maw.

She would make sure to look proper and formal when meeting high command. They are the ones putting the gems within her grasp after all. Even dragonesses has to eat, no?

She would quickly get out a little something she casually uses now and then from a cramped space in between a cabinet and the wall in her washing room, a full body size mirror. Helps getting straps adjusted and making the armor fit as good as possible. And maybe also boosts her ego when she tries to either look extra pretty or extra menacing.

She has heard recruits of the DOW comment on her looks many times, usually when they think she cannot hear or isn't paying attention. Their little comments and… Not too passing remarks to mention unless in a private conversation, usually makes her feel somewhat appreciated.

Not that she doesn't. The two heroes welcomed her services with a warm welcome. One of the few rare moments she felt truly like she wasn't in some kind of dull limbo between work and just letting life slip by.

However, Sethelis wouldn't waste more time by thinking of how sad her life was, and turn over to finally getting herself into her armor, and to her mission report. The dragoness would study the straps on one of her foreleg bracers, before looking back at herself. She is a pretty thing, not to boast. A sleek yet not skinny figure, outlined by muscles which she happily uses and trains regularly. A pair of night-black wings with a tone of grayish white to her wings. Alas the membrane is of the same tone as the rest of her main body; To some, it might appear as a strange shade of blue. Almost like the night sky at it's darkest. In a sky where no stars burn. She would follow up by strapping the wristguards onto her forelegs adjusting the straps with her razor sharp and pearly white fangs. She would carefully make sure that everything was perfect so that the pieces of metal would fit to her blue-black scales.

She would proceed to put the armor on, piece by piece. Other wristguard, wing-armor, chestplate, which covers over her back, hiding battle scars and one or two tattoos from an younger and "wilder" age. She would make sure so that it was good, adjusting the straps as it hid her underbelly, which has the exact same steely-white colors of her wings, she would look over at her tail, the tip is in the shape of a hulled spear, sharp and very very pointy. She makes sure that it is capable of at least slice either a very thick rope or possibly a thicker tree trunk in two blows or less before she's satisfied, and she knows that it is up to satisfaction. Came in handy during her latest mission. Not too handy for the person whose head she chopped off.

The dragoness wouldn't bother with tail armor. It was clumsy and restricts her balance, as well as ignoring a helmet, since it would impair her already limited vision. Speaking of which, an important and prominent feature was her face. Feminine with the more smoothened out rectangular shape on her snout, which has three diagonal white stripes over it. A single eye, slightly bigger eyes than a male's, bearing the striking color of bright yellow, surrounding a slitted iris. However, this dragoness only possessed one. A majorily healed facial scar ran along her temple and upper forehead marked that she had been cut with something. Most likely a sharper weapon like an axe or possibly a sword. Even if the damage was mostly healed, her eye was beyond saving. Even for red gems. Nowadays she wore an eyepatch, with a little ornate symbol for the shadow element and the insignia of the DOW sewn onto it.

Going with just plain black is too old school, even for her. Besides, she wasn't no pirate. She would shake her head, and glance over her horns quickly, white as marble, standing out quite prominently, given her otherwise very dark shades of blue and white-gray. She has two sets of horns, one on each side of her skull, which in turn branched out into two, making the two horns into four, along with two smaller spikes down her neck and at the very beginning of her jawline. Said horns were rather thick at the base, but quickly getting sleeker and slimmer. Not a single dent or ridge to be seen, even if they both end with a slight "Hook" at the very tips. She would study her self for a bit, gaining poise for a short moment.

"All set…" She murmurs to herself before putting the mirror back where it belongs, in the small space between that cabinet and the wall in her washingroom. She would then proceed to hurry her way out to the balcony. The area of Warfang she used to live on was in one of the upper districts. So the smaller place she lives in now is just temporary whilst her home is still being rebuilt, chunks taken out of the city and lifted to the skies tends to create those kinds of year-long delays for building projects. However, Sethelis found her little area cozy enough, as it was still in a fairly okay neighborhood whilst also fairly close to the biggest plaza of Warfang.

She would with one strong leap from the stone railing on her balcony take to the skies, flapping her wings casually as she flew. No need to worry about any locked doors. Her door is always locked…

Soon enough, the dragoness landed in front of the DOW tower, looking up and thinking to herself; "Should I make an entrance? Or shall I take the slower but more dignified route?"

She decided upon the swifter way, so what she did was once more flying. Albeit she had to make a quick stop at her office, at the Captain's floor, the 17'th floor. Walking past one or two dragons of her fellow rang, even a cheetah…

Cheetahs had been accepted into the DOW, as well as Moles. It was the founder's core beliefs that "All races has rights to fight for their homes and families, why hinder them with a dragons only policy?" Hence seeing a Cheetah captain was not a complete surprise. Even if she ever-so-slightly nudged the cat aside. No time for pleasantries. Sethelis would proceed into her office, the room was quite spacey, with a simple desk, some files on previous missions stacked up on shelves, properly organised after order when they were conducted.

Alas, they are only her favorite cases. "For the VIP shelf" as she could call it.

Sethelis saw her barely finished report lying on her desk, a quill and a bottle of ink next to it.

So what did she do? She sat down on her haunches, and wrote faster than she had ever written a report before. Usually she takes her time, but she had this mission fresh in her memory and wanted to get this delivered to high command as soon as possible. Only five minutes later she was done. Not even putting the quill in the bottle of ink, but merely dropping it onto the desk before hurrying towards the stairs to the upper floors.

She would come up the floors of the tower, not even bothering to stop for conversation even if someone called her name after her.

The dragoness didn't stop until she got to the top floor and end of the staircase.

She saw one of the two office doors up in front of her, on the opposing side of the little "wait" room close shut, as a red tail slipped in. She didn't want to bother the two in charge if they'd be having a meeting.

Not for a mere missions report. But… It was starting to take time. She had rushed quite a fair bit to get here. And her, as per usual, short fuse slowly started to burn out. She ended up realising that she was suddenly standing in front of the door to Spyro's office. And had just knocked…

"And that's all you wished to report?" asked Spyro.

He was now sitting on a cushion on the far side of the office. Spyro and Cynder sat across from him, staring into his blue eyes, waiting for some sort of response regarding the caravan that had been raided and previously protected by members of the Captain's platoon the week before. Miarko wasn't entirely sure why this certain mission had brought about the personal attention of the two leaders of the DOW. They normally just managed the general going-ons of the organization, mainly the PR and such. The way the Defenders were organized made the peacekeeping force mostly self-sufficient in many ways. Respected commanders were able to micro-manage the details of their own troops and only needed to collaborate with other platoons in specific instances that required more than 100 troops. This of course, was incredibly rare.

The Dragon City had fallen into an era of peace, much like the fallen Fire Guardian Ignitus had predicted. There was almost no need for a standing army anymore, and many of the warriors of the previous Draconian defense force had either retired or taken cushy office positions with the DOW or more peacetime-type businesses. Heck, Miarko had heard that one of the defenders of the walls had become a principal investor in some sort of business downtown that had taken off in the years following the War, but he knew next to nothing about it and the thought had barely crossed the Dragon's mind.

Refocusing his attention on the two dragons that sat in front of him, the Fire Defender cleared his throat and said, "Yes, sir. Would you like me to summarize the bottom line, sir?"

"Proceed," nodded the Purple Dragon.

The years had been kind to the Purple Dragon and his female companion. When they had first exited the tunnel from the Valley of Avalar all those years ago, they had been very young by draconian standards, and it was by some sheer miracle that the two had managed to defeat Malefor. Some say the pair had been blessed by the Ancestors themselves in their task, but it wasn't a subject that either of them cared to discuss.

Spyro had seen many gold and orange frills sprout from different areas around his face and his golden horns had almost doubled in length. His face had grown much fuller than it was in his younger years, and there were many cracks in his scales around his upper body from the many battles that he had emerged from unscathed. Miarko wasn't sure if there was another Dragon in the Realms that had seen more battle than the Purple Dragon of legend. Portions of his wings were tattered and he had even lost portions of his membrane in specific areas, like many dragons had to face when they grew older. For Spyro, however, his wings looked twenty years older than most dragons' did at his age. Despite all the damage that he showed, however, Spyro looked… Right. It was hard to put it into words, but he had aged just as the Fire Defender thought he would.

Clearing his throat, Miarko nodded his head and responded, "The Caravan was hit by a group of bandits that just moved into the area, Director," he said, referencing Spyro's title in the DOW, "Group of wolves, from what my soldiers could tell after they arrived at the scene. Caravan was fully looted, sir, seemingly long before they arrived on the scene. Severe damage to several of the wagons, which had some of their wheels popped off and lay in the muck on several sides of the road. Likely that those sides were taken first, trying to hinder the group's movement and ability to flee. As for the-"

"Captain," came Cynder's voice from the side, urging the Fire Defender to halt what he was saying, "We do not require the play by play of what your soldiers discovered about the soil composition and the exact element number of the rotting wood on the sides of the road. Spyro and I are more interested in what happened to the occupants and drivers of the carts your platoon discovered."

Miarko nodded his head, "Of course, Madame Director," he said, addressing Cynder's title. He took a moment to gather his thoughts.

Cynder, likewise to her companion, had aged well. According to the legends, she now looked almost identical to how she had appeared when first resurfacing under the control of the Dark Master all those years ago at the beginning of the "Malefic Wars". She was as slender and beautiful as Miarko remembered her from the Siege of Warfang, in which he had participated. Like her companion, her scales showed some damage and her membranes were torn throughout. Her horns had grown to lengths that nearly doubled the size of her head from snout to top. Her green jades eyes pierced into Miarko's with a mix of interest, boredom, and general concern for his response.

"Well, this was the oddest portion of the details of the raid that my troops discovered," came Miarko's delivery, "There were no bodies, and no survivors to be found at the wrecks. My men were able to safely assume that the occupants of the caravans were...taken by these bandits."

Spyro and Cynder looked at each other and spoke with hushed tones for a few moments. This detail seemed to concern them. Miarko hadn't paid it much heed when he submitted the report. It had seemed like a usual ransom case; bandits kidnapped residents of the Dragon City and her outlying settlements all the time. It wasn't the 17th's job to handle the rescue mission or negotiations, that usually got passed off to more...responsible divisions. The 17th, as much as Miarko perhaps didn't care to admit it, wasn't skilled in that specific area.

The two heroes turned back to him at that point, with Spyro being the first to speak, "Thank you, Captain. This report is something that we'll look into. You are dimiss-"

Spyro was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door and a dragoness barging in.

"Shadow Leader Sethelis reporting in, Director and Madame Director." The dragoness would state, formally, before doing a, if not rather quick, salute.

The Purple Dragon would turn towards this new armor clad dragoness, who was seemingly clutching a scroll of paper tuckered in under her wing. Spyro would tilt his head slightly, looking at the dragoness a few seconds before speaking.

"Nice to have you here Shadow Leader. Is that the mission report Cynder and I have been awaiting?"

The dragoness nodded, before replying in the same rank-and-file fashion; "Yes, Director," before handing him the scroll.

It was sealed with a insignia looking like the one which adored the dragoness' eyepatch. This is probably one of the other Captains. However, Miarko couldn't say he's paid the dragoness too much notice. Possibly seen her once or twice since they apparently work on the same floor, but otherwise he'd have next to no interaction with this "Sethelis" over all. Maybe laying a ladies' man's eye on her once, but nothing in general.

The dragoness would however turn towards Cynder and say "Mission was a success, ma'am. Permission to speak freely?"

Cynder would seemingly think a little, before stating "Permission granted, but watch your tongue." With a short and barely noticeable nod towards the Fire Captain.

Sethelis would nod thankfully before starting; "I am worried to say things doesn't look too good. The areas you've told me to investigate has become hot zones of sorts, trouble stirring in the outer villages. But I think, and intel states, that there's more to it than just mere wolves in their little packs. These bandits are known to take hostages. But there was no traces of actual battle. As if none of the caravaners made any resistance…"

Spyro would've broken the seal and had started to read the scroll which Sethelis had brought with her, and his brows seemingly furrowed slightly. A slight "Hmmmrhm…" could be heard as The Purple Dragon was thinking on some seemingly important matter…

"Very good, Shadow Leader." He started, looking up at the two younger dragons. "Miarko, Sethelis. You can consider yourselves dismissed for now." He said, before turning to Cynder; "I need to have you read this. And tell me what you make of it..."

The dragoness in the armor would by then have turned to almost leave the room. And Miarko was shortly outside along with her in the waiting room, the door shutting behind the two slowly as they exited.

The silence between the two quickly grew awkward.

Miarko shuffled his paws for a moment. He was surprised that he hadn't really noticed this 'ness around before. She was stunning. It was normally his idea to keep his numerous romantic pursuits outside of the work environment, but for an individual like this, he couldn't really help himself.

The Fire Captain looked at her, bowing his head as he said, "Captain Miarko. Glad to finally make your acquaintance, madame…?"

Sethelis on the other hand was rather relieved to finally have that darn report turned in. She let a sigh of relief out over that she had been saved, if not narrowly, from a remark by Cynder. Seth knows how much that dragoness wants things to be done in time. And Sethelis is usually proud over never ever turning in a report late. Until today.

She looked over with her one good eye to this other commander she had apparently seen enter the room prior.

She'd remember that tail no matter how drunk she'd been when she'd seen it. A tail without a tail blade? It would be just as obvious like a Mole pretending to be a Cheetah!

However, tracking the tail with her sight, discreetly she might add, leads to a pair of strong hind legs. "Looks like they'd pack a punch in a fight, duly noted." She thought, as if examining a upcoming foe in a sparring match. Planning ahead is A&O in the non-existent Shadows handbook. She would continue along, her slitted pupil widening slightly as the thought struck her;

He is outright handsome. If she hadn't seen him with her own eye, she'd probably not believe it. Not even if she'd heard it from herself. If she'd find anyone attractive anywhere above the word "Interesting" on a scale from "Interesting" to "Outright have my eggs." she'd think she'd be dreaming. But here she is. In the top of HQ, and…

He's talking to her?

"Captain Miarko. Glad to finally make your acquaintance, madame…?"

She would think. And quickly. She usually only speaks to her squad, and she's known them for years.

The dragoness cleared her throat, before turning her attention to his eyes. "So blue…"

She thought. Just possibly mumbling the words under her own breath. Before she blinked, "Egh… Ehh, uhm… Sethelis. Please, just Sethelis." She started, already feeling like she'd toss her dignity out the window and then dive bomb after it just to save herself from this conversation. Fumbling to remember the basics of non-formal introductions, she looked up at him; "So… Miarko, huh? Captain… I guess we're of the same rank."

"Indeed we are, Captai- or, Sethlis rather. I thought myself familiar with all of the leaders of the platoons in this organization, but I don't remember speaking to you in the past. And trust me, I'd remember a face like yours," responded the Fire Captain, throwing in a slight flirt at the end.

Normally the Fire Dragon was a tad bit more...overt about his intentions about women. If there was one thing that he was known for by his men, it was his way with females of his species.

Sethelis might be the absolutely worst dragoness ever when it comes to talking. But she recognizes a advance when she hears one. And with this guys going in so fast, Seth felt like retaliating, dusting off her set of flirts which hasn't been used in… Well. Let's just say "A long time".

"Oh would you, now?" Sethelis started, adjusting her eyepatch slightly, before looking up at the Captain. "Because I'll let you know…" She started, leaning in slightly, her voice getting a bit more quiet and whispering. "... You might be charming, but do you truly have what it takes?" She taunted, slightly, giving him a sly wink with her one eye.

Her tail dragging itself along the floor as she sat down on her haunches. Her mind might not reveal it, but she has yearned for casual conversation for a long time. And this Miarko fellow might just be her saviour.

Meanwhile, Miarko sat down on the cushions outside of the offices, relaxing against the nearby wall. He wasn't going to give up this opportunity.

"I think I do, madame. Maybe I can prove it to you," said the Fire Dragon, choosing his words carefully, "I happen to have some free time after tea time this Saturday. Can I expect to see you then?"

Sethelis swallowed. This male…. He is… Interesting to say the least, an outgoing personality, good looks? And…. Did he say tea? She might not admit it to anyone, except possibly herself, but tea? Her weak spot .Give this dragoness tea and she'll give you her soul in return.

Sethelis nodded, smiling. It wasn't too far to Saturday, only Friday before that. "Let us hope that the time after tea this Saturday turns out as time well spent, yes? Any particular places you think we'd be able to visit and meet up in? Or possibly at one of our places?" The dragoness suggested, studying her claws as she spoke, before facing the male.

"I'd love to see you at one of the cafes outside of the tower then, if that would be to your liking?" responded the Fire Dragon, smiling at her.

As Miarko spoke, he'd see Sethelis taking a liking to the suggestion; "I am completely fine with that, Captain." She said, before once more getting up.

"But right now, we're busy people. However, since you've seemingly had a hard time noticing my pretty face before, just look for this on the office door," Seth stated. Using the very tip of her tailblade, pointing to the insignia of the Shadows Department on her eyepatch.

"Hard to miss once you know what to look for. Yes?"

"Indeed, the insignia is familiar to me," responded the Fire Dragon, "I'll look for you outside that office after tea time on Saturday, then. Good day, Sethelis."

With that, Miarko bowed his head courteously at the Shadow Dragoness and walked back down the stairs from the lobby, seemingly headed back to his office for the time being. He quickly disappeared from sight, leaving the Shadow Dragoness alone.

Sethelis sat there for a short while, watching the corridor where the Fire Captain disappeared down the hall.

Maybe this weekend was going to be a bit more eventful than she had thought.

A/N: Greetings, and welcome to this new story that has graced the archive here. My name is Mike, or Unit-Omicron if you prefer. I'm the author of the The Spyro and Cynder Adventures, where you may know me from. I've been gone from the archive for a few months now, but I'm happy to be back, and not be alone this time!

While he's not here to introduce himself at the moment (I type this at 9pm at night, and it is in the early hours of the morning for him.) I am co-writing this novel with a good friend of mine, Madhawker. While this is his first novel and English is not his first language, I can personally vouch for his expertise in the writing of literature and his knowledge of the TLOS universe.

Some of more long-time followers may be asking two questions: Is this novel connected to the TSCA series and does this mean that the TSCA series is on hold? No and yes, to answer both of those questions simply.

While Miarko, Spyro, Cynder and the Guardians will be appearing in this work and be important characters, the universe will be entirely separate and (in no way) connected to TSCA timeline. The TSCA series is also on indefinite hold for the time being. Tamara and Richter will see more down the line, but for now, I want to focus my attention on a new novel, a new IP if you will. My apologies to the ever-loyal fans of that series, but it's time for me to move onto something new.

Thank you for checking out this new work. Please don't forget to review and share your thoughts with us!

Mike and Madhawker, signing out for now.