After a small break to recharge and re-collect my thoughts, I'm back and I bring you book 3 of the Broken Line saga! We left off in a bit of a dire spot with book 2, so let's see how our friends are faring in the aftermath.

Hope everyone's ready! Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Broken

Evening had fallen. The cool whistle of the wind played a quiet tune that lulled the listener into a sense of peace, but it also warned of nature's bite as temperatures began to dip. As he listened, Meadow felt a mild shiver pass through him and he pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders.

A muffled curse from nearby spoke of greater discomfort, and Meadow looked over with a tiny smirk pulling at his lips. There another cheetah stood, though this one was fumbling with a much heavier coat, ears pulled back and arms visibly quivering.

"This cold is going to be the death of me," the cheetah snorted, his voice humorous but with a slight, bitter undertone. "How do you stand it, Meadow?"

The darker-furred cheetah offered a small chuckle. "It's not so bad. Winters in Avalar are similar to this."

The other cheetah scoffed and shook his head in good-natured bemusement. He looked down and kicked at the light dusting of snow that covered the rock shelf they stood upon, only to grimace and pull his foot back, shaking it.

"Yes, well, weather like this would be called an abomination back in the plains. I'm amazed you think this is normal, brother."

Meadow chuckled again, though he did feel a pang of sympathy. The other cheetah, named Sefu, came from a different world. That much was clear from his build alone, which was considerably leaner than Meadow's and sporting shorter, lighter fur. It was a build acclimated for the heat, not for weathering colder seasons. While Meadow's own tribe had adjusted well to life in Avalar over the generations, Sefu hailed from one of their brother tribes in the great plains of the savannah, far away on another continent: the ancestral home of the cheetah species.

"What I don't understand is why host this gathering in the mountains of all places? Surely there were more...climate-neutral locales available."

Meadow paused and turned his gaze out to their surroundings, where a broad chain of low mountain peaks stretched across the horizon. The air bore a sharp crispness to it on every breath, cold but clean and pure. Aside from the faint wind and the torches nearby there wasn't a sound to be heard. With the sun having already descended the first stars were beginning to appear as evening waned into night, looking brighter and clearer than Meadow could ever remember seeing. It instilled an undeniable feeling of peace, despite the harsh, cold edge to it all.

"It suits our needs well," he finally spoke. "It's quiet, secluded, and far from distractions. It's a suitable place for our tribes to focus on the nation's future."

Sefu let out a small, thoughtful grunt. "That's true. And I don't mean to be ungrateful to our hosts. The cougars have been very accommodating to all of us. Even so, I won't be disappointed when the time comes to return home."

He shot a wry grin to his companion and Meadow smiled as well, but just then Sefu shivered from another passing gust of wind. Their conversation lulled for a moment when a trio of lionesses strode past them from the slopes below, bundled up similarly to Sefu and carrying a pair of mountain goats over their shoulders. The two cheetahs nodded respectfully as they passed, their feline cousins returning the gesture before disappearing through the canvas-covered entranceway into the caves behind them.

"How do you suppose our chiefs are faring?" Sefu asked at length.

Meadow frowned thoughtfully. Though proceedings had already adjourned for the day, not all of the tribal chiefs had departed the main gathering hall as of yet. Debate over the Feline Nation's next priorities had become somewhat heated over the course of the day, and now a handful of the more invested chiefs were still engaged inside.

"I wouldn't be surprised if their patience is getting a bit frayed by this point," Meadow commented at length. "All of this debate certainly doesn't mesh well with Chief Prowlus' own leadership philosophy."

"I think Chief Akachi feels similarly," Sefu nodded. "Acting swiftly and with conviction; that is the cheetah way, not all of this endless back and forth."

Meadow grunted in affirmation. While he considered himself to be one of the more patient and level-headed members of his tribe, he did still feel a gnawing sense of frustration with how the feline summit's progress seemed to have ground to a standstill in places. All of this minutia cropping up and bogging down proceedings, old grudges and disputes...it just subtracted focus from the real purpose of this gathering: getting their nation back up on its feet after an age of war had splintered them apart. He wished everyone could pick a decisive next step and commit to it, adjusting if necessary down the line but at least moving somewhere.

"Well, hopefully they decide to leave matters be for the night," Sefu sighed. "I think those lionesses had the right idea. I'm sure our chiefs would appreciate a meal once they..."

He trailed off when a shrill screech echoed from across the mountainside, coming from somewhere to the southeast. Frowning, Meadow squinted into the darkening sky until he spotted movement overhead. He quickly picked out the shape of a falcon, and as it approached it wasn't long before he could recognize it.

"Another message from home?" Sefu asked, glancing at Meadow curiously.

Meadow raised his arm for Hunter's falcon to perch upon, ready to listen, but instead of relaying its message in the usual chirps and trills of the falcons' language it simply sat in silence. That was when Meadow noticed the rolled up sheet of parchment in a small leather tube secured to the falcon's back. Curious now, he withdrew it and began unrolling it after the falcon hopped from his arm and flapped over to a nearby outcrop on the rocks. It was addressed to Chief Prowlus, but even so Meadow read on; this was common, as the chief preferred to hear a summarized report from Meadow rather than listen to or re-read the original in its entirety.

To Chief Prowlus,

I send this message with the utmost urgency. Warfang has been attacked...

Meadow faltered, his body tensing as a rush of surprise and confusion shot through him. Attacked? He read over those words again to make sure he wasn't mistaken.

He wasn't. Trepidation bubbled up within him, urging him to read on with new haste. Every line caused the sense of anxiety and dread within his gut to swell, his posture growing ever more rigid. True, Hunter's latest messages had relayed an unsettling pattern of escalating events, starting with news of the destroyed mole village, followed by word of Spyro suddenly departing to the White Isle for 'emergency assistance' from the Chronicler, but even so the gravity of the news in this letter caught Meadow off guard.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Sefu had noticed the shift in Meadow's bearing by this point. He leaned closer.

"What is it?"

Meadow didn't answer. Seized by a new feeling of urgency, he spun on his feet and ran over to the cave entrance, throwing the canvas flaps aside. Sefu gave a startled exclamation and followed.

The passage within was wide and warmly lit, both by torches and the small fire pits set into the walls that offered convenient gathering places for residents and guests alike. At this late hour there were only a few other people in sight—a lynx was leaning against one wall conversing with a leopard, while the lionesses from before were just a few paces ahead. Meadow offered a short apology as he rushed past, narrowly avoiding bumping into them. After a very short sprint the two cheetahs arrived at a bend in the corridor, a large wooden archway denoting the entrance to the main gathering hall. As they approached Meadow could hear voices from within.

"...just want to be sure our time remains focused on our most pressing priorities," one deep voice stated. "We've spent so much of it spinning in circles on internal disagreements when the external security of our nation as a whole is still up in the air."

"Your priorities are not universal," a female voice rebutted. "We face no such external threat in the jungles, but the violation of our sacred hunting grounds in recent generations is an affront to our culture that cannot go ignored by my people."

"You're describing a situation where both parties at least dwell within the same nation, where common laws ensure that the option for discourse is always open," Prowlus' familiar voice noted impatiently. "Meanwhile, our brothers in the savannah are having their territories raided by hyena packs and no effort at diplomacy has been reciprocated. The lions face the same problem. We need to make sure our tribes are in a united position to repel them if the need for it comes."

At that moment Meadow rounded the corner of the doorway and drew to a halt at the threshold. Within the chamber he could see four figures seated around a broad, dark wooden table. Prowlus and Chief Akachi sat side by side, their backs facing the main entranceway, while across from them sat a pantheress with smooth black fur. At another seat of the table one of the cougars was present, the host tribe of the gathering also taking on a mediary role in these discussions.

"There will be no unity while the tigers remain as invaders in our ancestral lands," the pantheress growled. "I don't want this to escalate, but whether I wish it or not my people will not take this provocation idly."

"And while your tribe and the tigers bicker, rivals to our collective nation look to exploit our vulnerability while we are still splintered and recovering from an age of war," Akachi declared adamantly. "If we focus all of our attention on our own grievances now, we give them more of an opportunity to wound us."

"If I may," the cougar interjected. "While your argument is reasonable, Chief Akachi, it sounds like your proposed solution to our post-war struggles is more war."

"War is not our goal," Prowlus replied, "but outside aggression into our nation's territories has to be met with an iron wall or they'll just keep pushing further. We..."

His ear twitched and he trailed off when he became aware of Meadow and Sefu approaching. Turning in his seat, he cast a disapproving scowl toward the newcomers.

"Apologies for the interruption, Chief Prowlus," Meadow told him, holding up the parchment in his hand. "Hunter sends an urgent message from Warfang."

Prowlus' scowl deepened, and he let out a faint huff.

"Warfang's business can wait until we've concluded things here."

He turned to face the table again, but Meadow wasn't going to back down.

"Terrador is dead."

Silence. Everything had gone still, Meadow's declaration hanging in the air with an oppressive weight. Slowly, the other felines in the room fixed their full attention upon him.

"Terrador?" the cougar representative asked. "The dragon Guardian?"

Prowlus twisted around to face Meadow directly, his expression stern and masked. Even so, Meadow could still make out the surprise in his posture.

"How did it happen?" he finally spoke. "Did Hunter elaborate?"

Meadow nodded, taking a silent breath. "He was killed in battle. Warfang fell victim to a surprise assault by the wraiths, only days ago."

"Wraiths?" Chief Akachi repeated, glancing between Meadow and Prowlus. "These are the new monsters roaming around that you mentioned before?"

Prowlus merely nodded, his gaze still on Meadow, waiting for him to continue.

"Apparently they struck from within the city's walls," Meadow obliged, "and in the ensuing chaos they attacked both citizens and soldiers indiscriminately. While the Guardians were trying to rally a response across the city, they were attacked by a new purple dragon who was leading the wraiths."

Startled expressions met these words, another short span of silence filling the chamber.

"Wait," the pantheress eventually spoke up. "Hold on. A new one? As in, not one of the ones you've already told us about? There's another one now?"

Prowlus' gaze had become even more piercing and intense, clearly with the same question on his mind. Meadow could only nod once.

"Yes. A dragoness, one who goes by the name of Tyrannica. Hunter's report does not offer much explanation to her origins, but he made sure to stress that she is both powerful and incredibly dangerous. She was the one who killed Terrador during her battle with the Guardians."

More silence. Grave looks had come over the expressions of most of the other felines in the room, all of the representatives digesting this news. Even outside of the dragon realms, knowledge of the Guardians' strength was far reaching. Tales of Terrador's battlefield prowess were just as widely known, and so hearing of an enemy capable of besting him in direct combat—and while outnumbered no less—was not something to be ignored. Prowlus in particular gave a heavy sigh and dragged a hand across his face.

"What's the situation now, then?" he finally asked.

"The attack was eventually repelled," Meadow said, looking down and scanning through Hunter's message again. "Spyro and Nexus arrived in time to sway the battle in Warfang's favour. However, the city suffered extensive damage. The number of dead and wounded is still unknown. What Hunter could tell us is that the surviving three Guardians, Spyro, and Nexus were all badly wounded, some critically so. All of the city's major medical facilities were destroyed, as well as significant parts of its government and military infrastructure. Warfang survived, but it has been crippled."

Another pause followed the cheetah's account as the gathered felines mulled over this latest information, weighing the significance of it.

"So much for post-war reconstruction, then," the pantheress eventually sighed, "because it sounds like we'll be hunkering down to wait out another one imminently."

"What are your thoughts, Chief Prowlus?" the cougar asked. "The feline nation has been neutral in the dragons' affairs, but I know your tribe has had closer ties to them in recent times than the rest of us."

Prowlus didn't reply for a moment, eyes downcast with a tense, thoughtful frown dominating his features. At length he released a drawn out, resigned sigh.

"Send a response back to Hunter, and to the tribe," he told Meadow. "Inform them of what has happened if Hunter hasn't already, and instruct them to prepare an expedition to bring aid to the city. Make sure they're armed in case wraiths are lingering in the area after the attack."

Meadow nodded. "Yes, Chief."

"Is there any help that we can offer?"

Prowlus blinked and turned to face Chief Akachi inquisitively.

"It sounds like this situation in the Dragon Realms is boiling over," the other cheetah explained, "and your tribe is at risk of being caught in the middle of it. The savannah tribe will be glad to come to the support of our brothers if it is needed."

Prowlus considered this for a moment, but his face was still set in a frown.

"You have the safety of your own borders to concern yourself with," he said at length.

"Yes, but my offer still stands. The hyena raids are a problem, but in comparison to a city of Warfang's scale being crippled so close to your tribe's lands...I think our panther colleague has a point: This foreshadows a much larger conflict. When the dragons are involved, things tend to escalate."

Prowlus uttered a humourless snort, clearly in agreement with that. Meadow himself couldn't quite disagree either, though he did think the intent behind the statement was a bit unfair. If an enemy had amassed the strength to attack the dragons in the first place, it stood to reason that war on a larger scale was already on their mind. One didn't simply skirmish with a foe as powerful as a dragon. To do so without following through would be suicide.

"I'll keep your offer in mind," Prowlus said at length. "In the meantime, I will wait and see what future reports from Hunter state on the situation. If things do escalate, I may have to return to my people. I suspect the dragons will need all of their allies with them if it comes to that."

"So you do still consider the dragons allies of your tribe, despite the greater Feline Nation's neutrality?" the pantheress asked curiously.

"That does seem like a very individual stance to take for someone who was arguing for unity just a moment before," the cougar remarked, also sounding quizzical.

Prowlus let out another distasteful sigh.

"Dragons breed conflict," he stated, his tone firm. "There's no argument about that, and usually it brings trouble to anyone near them, whether they're allies of the dragons or not. That said, in those conflicts the dragons have always fought on the side of preserving balance. Don't get me wrong; they're prideful and self-important in that role, and sometimes the balance they're trying to maintain is their own position of supremacy, but even so there are still two undeniable facts that have to be considered:

"First, the dragons are always loyal to the ones they call friends. If it was my tribe that was in peril, Warfang would be there. As much as I disagree with how they do a lot of things, that's something I have to respect.

"Second, the enemy that they're facing now—this purple dragon monster, Ragnor, and his underlings—will not stop with just the conquest of the Dragon Realms. All nations will follow. By fighting against him, the dragons are acting as a first line of defence for all of us. If they fall, so do we."

Meadow observed Prowlus silently for a long moment after he'd concluded his argument, contemplating his words. It was no secret back home in Avalar that Prowlus disliked dragons, but it was also no secret that he supported the tribe's ties with Warfang. Prowlus was practical, and the advantages of those ties were evident enough. However, this was the first time Meadow had heard his chief declare his position on the matter so openly and thoroughly, and it placed his support in a new light that Meadow hadn't entirely expected. It almost sounded like he respected their magical neighbours in his own sour and begrudging way.

The other listeners were likewise contemplating Prowlus' statement with great care. Chief Akachi's expression had turned more and more grim as he'd listened to the Avalarian's reasoning, but he wasn't withdrawing his support. If anything, he just seemed more determined to give it. Sefu had a similar determined air about him. Meanwhile, the cougar and panther representatives exchanged a thoughtful look.

"This will need to be brought before the other tribe leaders tomorrow, I think," the cougar finally spoke.

The pantheress nodded her head. "I agree. If this is going to affect all of us, then it's a matter that all of us deserve to weigh in on."

"I think it best if we adjourn our earlier discussions for the night, then," Chief Akachi suggested. "It's been a long day already, and it sounds like they're just going to get longer after this."

More nods answered him. Without another word the panther and cougar rose from their seats and began silently pacing toward the chamber exits. Prowlus released a long, weary sigh, sagging back into his chair and massaging his temple. A few seconds later he opened one eye and gazed up at Meadow.

"Well? That message isn't going to send itself."

Meadow nodded promptly. "Of course, Chief."

He turned about and strode out of the chamber the way he'd come, heading for his quarters to begin writing. All the while, a squirming pit of worry and fear began to take form within his gut.

How bad was the damage to the city? Hunter's message had been too sparse on details for Meadow to be able to guess the full aftermath of the battle, leaving his mind free to make up countless different scenarios. Besides Terrador, how many others had been killed? How many hurt? And what of his friends?

All he could do was silently hope that things turned out alright.

*.*.*

The air was still, and silence hung over the fields in the waning light of dusk. The land appeared peaceful, a small family of deer even visible just within a copse of trees not far away. They peered out warily at the cluster of dragons that were presently gathered in the open grassland, watching one in particular that stood nearest to them, pacing almost randomly about.

The wind dragon was on edge, despite the apparent tranquility of their surroundings. He wasn't the only one; of the half dozen cloudy grey and pale sky-blue wind dragons and dragonesses that made up the party behind him, every single one of them had their heads high and their gazes anxiously scanning the land around them. No one was willing to let their guard down when even the slightest possibility existed that wraiths could be watching.

No one knew if there were any wraiths in this area, of course. They were out in the middle of nowhere, far from their home in Sky Haven and many, many miles beyond the range that even their most far-reaching scouts patrolled. This was no patrol, however. The heavy-laden satchels that were piled in the middle of the group attested to that, some with a faint emerald and ruby shine emanating from the bulging edges of the bags' coverings—spirit gems. This was a relief mission.

When news first arrived at Sky Haven of the wraiths' surprise assault on Warfang, it had come as a tremendous shock to everyone in the city. While word had travelled from the dragon capital of the new wraith threat, it had only come as a precautionary warning and not as a notice of imminent conflict. They had not been prepared for the gravity of the news that the exhausted wind dragon messenger had carried with him when he lurched his way onto Sky Haven's main landing platform. The poor dragon had nearly collapsed from sheer fatigue the moment his paws touched stone, reporting that he had flown the entire distance from Warfang without stopping for fear of being ambushed by wraiths if he set down to rest for even a moment. Even for a wind dragon, that was a daunting feat.

Sky Haven's council had convened immediately, and in very short order a consensus had been reached, all members agreeing that efforts should be made to assist Warfang in its recovery as quickly as possible. They had signed a declaration of unity with the great dragon city, after all, and Sky Haven's massive stores of spirit gems would be of unquestionable importance in the aftermath of the attack. A party of volunteers was assembled by mid morning the next day, bags packed full with as many supplies as they could carry, and a liaison was appointed to assess the true extent of the damage and recommend follow-up action. Councillor Kaver was chosen.

Now, the councillor wasn't sure if he regretting putting his name forth as a candidate for the role or not. On the one paw he wanted to help in any way he could, and he wasn't sure he would be able to bear just sitting back in Sky Haven wondering what was going on. On the other paw, though, this was undeniably dangerous. The messenger from Warfang hadn't been able to confirm whether there were any wraith forces still lingering around the city or not, but the general assumption was 'yes'. Now, here they all were, sitting out in the open with darkness falling, completely exposed.

If there were any wraiths in the area, Kaver doubted they would get any warning before they struck. There was nothing they could do except watch and wait, and the gnawing uncertainty was taking its toll on his nerves.

Movement flashed at the corner of his vision and Kaver flinched, head ducking down and wings flaring from his instinctive flight reflex. Some of the other party members likewise tensed in response, wings half unfurling. A second later Kaver relaxed with a groan when he realized that the source of motion was another one of their party members, though, moving in the trees toward the deer that he had noted just before. There was another blur as the dragon lunged, and the sound of a brief scuffle reached him from the distance before silence once again fell. Only a moment later the hunter was winging his way back to the group with his catch in tow.

"Sorry it's not much," the dragon said after dropping the buck near the cluster of travellers. "The others bolted, and I figured we didn't want to wait around here while I chased them down."

"That's fine," Kaver replied, offering a quick appreciative smile. "It was a wise decision. This should help tide us over until we reach the city at least."

The other members of the group had already moved over to the carcass and were breaking off portions for themselves. The buck was a good catch, of healthy size and weight, but split between a total of eight dragons the meal ended up being hardly more than a mouthful. No one complained, however, all of them sharing the same mindset as the hunter's: Better to eat a quick, small meal than to linger in potentially dangerous land. Kaver's eyes never stopped scanning the surrounding field as he ate, and he wasn't the only one. His wings itched to fly, high and fast away from this place.

"Okay, everyone load up," he said only a minute later when he saw that the other party members were finishing. "Is everyone fit for the last stretch of this flight? I'd rather not stop again until we reach the city, so we'll be flying through the night. Speak now if you have any reservations."

No objections came. Without so much as a word the dragons set to work donning their bags, sliding their wings through the straps and helping each other tighten the buckles until the satchels rested securely against their flanks. As soon as Kaver had finished with his own bags he spread his wings and shot up into the sky, long wings powering against the added weight of his cargo. The wind swirled at his call, aiding him in his climb. Soon the thin scattering of clouds lay below him, and there he circled while the rest of the party joined him in the air.

"Everyone ready?"

Seven nods and quick affirmations answered him. Satisfied, Kaver turned toward the southwest and set off, his wings propelling him rapidly through the sky. His companions caught up in short order, gathering closely around him.

A tailwind materialized to boost their progress toward the capital, fuelled by the combined efforts of the party members. Sharing the magical load meant that the mana demand on each individual dragon was miniscule, and Kaver was confident that they would have no trouble sustaining it until they reached Warfang. Though they were all weary from the previous day's travel, having only managed a scant couple of hours of sleep in the fields, they all had strength enough to complete the journey. They could rest when they reached the relative safety of Warfang. Until then, there were people depending on the supplies they carried.

Kaver was just glad to be underway again, high in the sky where the wraiths could never reach him. A long, slow breath seeped out of him as he allowed the tension in his body to begin fading. Though he was still worried about what they would find at Warfang, for now he was content just to be in the air. The sky was their sanctuary. They were untouchable here.

Before long the last light of the sun had melted into the horizon, and the air took on a biting chill—though the wind dragons were accustomed to the cold of high altitudes and were unbothered. The stars were thankfully clear this night, the moons dim and low on the horizon, allowing the group to navigate without trouble. Some brief conversations between members rose and fell, but mostly they flew in silence, grimly wondering what lay ahead of them.

Kaver went over the messenger's report in his mind for what must have been the hundredth time, trying to anticipate the sights they would be greeted with, hoping to prevent himself from being caught off guard. The report had been grave: buildings destroyed, streets littered with debris, fires, scores of people killed and countless more wounded...It was all grimly reminiscent of the stories he had heard about the fates that befell many settlements during the war against Malefor and his apes, but with the exception of the Golem attack this was the first time he'd heard of Warfang finding itself in such disarray. After spending his life hidden and sheltered in a city that had been untouched by the war's hardships, he didn't know whether he was really prepared for this.

He pushed those worries into the back of his mind, however, knowing that he couldn't let them interfere with his task. With Warfang's major medical facilities and stockpiles destroyed, the supplies that he and his companions carried were absolutely invaluable. Their mission was of the utmost importance. They couldn't falter.

I hope Spyro and Cynder are well, he thought to himself, fondly remembering the two young ambassadors that he had met and guided only a short time ago. In fact it almost felt like it had been yesterday, and Kaver found himself wondering how things had turned upside down so quickly.

The night passed at a crawl. With only the stars above them and darkness below, there was almost nothing to occupy the travellers' time aside from dark thoughts of Warfang and the wraiths. On they flew, hour after hour, until an eternity later the eastern horizon began to brighten behind them. Kaver's eyelids weighed heavily upon their sockets and his wings felt like lead, but he still managed a small relieved smile as the blackness of night receded. Finally, after one more hour of flying the walls of Warfang appeared in the distance ahead of them, and Kaver let out a hearty sigh.

"Almost there," he called back to the rest of the travellers. "Heads up. We'll be able to rest soon."

Several groans and murmurs of relief met his ears. Kaver smiled again, but his expression sobered when he fixed his eyes forward once more. What would they find when they arrived?

They were surprised when, before they had even reached the city, a call rang out from below. Turning his eyes downward in confusion, Kaver soon picked out the shapes of three dragons in light armour winging their way up toward the newcomers—a patrol, from the looks of it. Signalling with his wing to his companions, the councillor began a spiralling descent to meet them.

"Halt, travellers! State your business!" the leading guard ordered them as they approached. He was an electricity dragon, and his bearing was both curious and intense as he scrutinized the new arrivals.

"We've come from Sky Haven," Kaver answered, keeping his tone calm. "My name is Kaver, and I'm a member of the city's governing council. We received word of the attack from your messenger. We're here with spirit gems and other supplies to provide relief."

The guard's expression quickly softened, his eyes widening at this news.

"Sky Haven?" he asked, his gaze settling on the bags that the wind dragons carried. Relief and gratitude emanated from him. "That is very generous. Thank you."

"It's the least we can do," Kaver replied. "Now, please, can you direct us to the Guardians or your captain so that we can begin distribution?"

"Of course," the guard nodded. "Please, follow me."

The other two guards returned to their patrol route while the electricity dragon turned toward Warfang. Kaver and the other wind dragons fell into place behind him, the city walls growing steadily larger ahead.

It was then that Kaver noticed the smoke, and he felt his gut tighten with a growing sense of dread. Not long after that the group climbed to bypass a rise in the terrain, and his jaw fell open in shock.

When he'd heard the messenger's report he had imagined all sorts of gruesome pictures and scenarios in his head. Somehow, he still hadn't been prepared for the real thing.

From the outside the wall had been deceptively pristine. Anyone passing on the ground could mistake the city for being completely intact. The only obvious exception was the main gate in the north, which had completely collapsed in on itself with mounds of stone debris scattered outward in evidence of a powerful explosion. Inside the walls, however, things were anything but pristine.

Simply put, it was a mess.

Gaping cracks ran through the streets as though the earth itself had been carved up by a titan's claws, turning immaculate cobblestone roadways into a jagged, treacherous labyrinth. Evidence of an earthquake spread further, splintered roofs and crumbling walls visible on many of the buildings down below them. Some towers had buckled completely, toppling over and crushing entire blocks of smaller buildings beneath them. Kaver felt his stomach churn at the sight of houses among them.

There were more signs of explosions too. Whole clusters of buildings had been levelled by the blasts, the epicenters almost always radiating from larger structures that must have been of significance to be targeted for destruction. The explosions had torn them completely apart from the inside out, collapsing neighbouring buildings as well. Ash and smoke were heavy in the air, left over from the fires that must have ensued, though mercifully the blazes all appeared to have been extinguished by this point.

Most unnerving of all was the deep violet glow that shone through the grey haze, emanating from the towering masses of crystal that had punched straight up out of the earth, blocking off streets and tearing through any buildings in their path. They crackled with dangerous power, and even from this distance Kaver felt a malignant chill seep through his being.

He recalled the messenger's report, stating that a previously unknown purple dragoness had spearheaded the assault upon the city. Part of Kaver had wanted to deny it, finding it too outlandish to conceive, but the evidence here was plain to see. That a lone dragoness could cause this scale of devastation, however...He shuddered at the thought.

In spite of the early hour, the city was far from quiet. Crews of moles were diligently chipping away at the growths of dark crystal with pickaxes and hammers, trying to clear safe passage for their dragon compatriots. Countless more moved in the streets, using makeshift bridges fashioned from long planks of wood to traverse the dangerous crevices. Dragons pulled carts behind them in areas that were free of the evil crystals, helping the moles to clear away the debris that choked the city's walkways. Residents whose homes had been destroyed could be seen picking through the wreckage, trying to salvage anything they could. Others whose dwellings remained standing had still had their belongings ransacked by the invaders, and now they were left to try and clean up what remained.

Conspicuous among the chaos were other dragons moving slowly through the streets, pulling more carts in their wake, but these were covered by thick sheets. Kaver spotted one cart in particular that was loaded nearly to overflowing. From beneath the covering, the end of a scaly blue tail dangled limply.

Kaver quickly looked away, his stomach clenching.

The guard's face was dark and tense as he led the travellers over the devastation, and Kaver could feel a swell of sympathy toward him. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if it was his own home that had suffered this fate and he was forced to fly above it again and again as part of his duties. He thought of saying something, but no words came to mind and at length he gave up with a sigh. Behind him the other wind dragons were likewise silent, their wide-eyed gazes fixed upon the city below.

Eventually the councillor caught sight of what he assumed was their destination. A large open square stretched out ahead of them, which Kaver assumed was meant for use as a market venue or festival grounds based on the size. It was currently being employed for the farthest thing from a festive occasion, however. The grounds were packed with rows upon rows of plain, square stone huts, the interiors illuminated by flickering torches and candlelight. People of all races moved in the narrow walkways between the shelters, some dressed in white healers' garments, their uniforms worn and stained from a never-ending shift treating the countless wounded. Others limped along with strips of bandage and scraps of cloth wrapped across their forms, while yet others were carried upon stretchers and carts.

Guards in full armour also littered the square, marching with an air of stern, focused determination about them, their harsh glares boring into anything that moved in the surrounding streets, patrolling every open space. Moles with longbows and crossbows were posted on the huts' roofs, just as focused and grim as their colleagues on the ground. Kaver was once again taken aback by the sight.

"By the Ancestors," one of the other wind dragons muttered. "I've never seen anything like this."

Their guide nodded darkly. "The wraiths made a point of proving that nowhere in the city was safe during the attack. We won't be making the mistake of thinking otherwise again while so many people are vulnerable."

"Are there more sites like this in the city?" Kaver asked uneasily.

"Two more," the guard replied. "This one is the largest, but it was impossible to bring everyone that needed treatment here so the healers had to split up their operations."

Kaver felt the knot in his stomach tighten, and he glanced back at the cargo that he and his companions carried. He had known already that the gems and supplies that the eight dragons could carry on their backs wouldn't be enough for the whole city's needs, but now it looked like they wouldn't even have enough for this one site alone...

"Come on," the guard continued. "There isn't room to land inside the compound. We'll have to walk the rest of the way to the headquarters, then we can distribute your supplies from there."

He angled his nose downward, aiming for the nearest corner of the square. Kaver descended after him, the rest of his party following. The people below them hastily moved aside as the nine dragons came in to land, dust and ash swirling from the gust their wings kicked up. Kaver noticed many quizzical and suspicious gazes turn their way, but just like the electricity dragon guard their faces softened and brightened ever so slightly when they noticed the cargo the newcomers bore. Kaver felt a tiny portion of the weight on chest lift at this sight. It seemed insignificant, but he knew every little bit of hope probably helped in a situation like this.

"Private," a stern voice abruptly called out, causing Kaver to start and turn around. "What have we here?"

"Captain," the guard answered sharply, straightening to attention. "Aid from Sky Haven. I was just bringing them to the headquarters."

A tall, armoured wind dragon came to a halt a couple of paces away from the group. His grey scales were marked with numerous cuts and scratches, some of the larger ones covered in an herbal paste to help keep them sealed and prevent dirt and grime from entering them. The captain stood firm in spite of them, showing no outward sign of his discomfort. His piercing blue eyes stared out from beneath the lip of his helm, swivelling to take in the new arrivals one at a time.

"Councillor Kaver," he said, a flash of surprise crossing his expression at the sight of the party's leader. "This is unexpected."

"Boreas," Kaver replied, a smile breaking through his own surprised look. "It's good to see a familiar face already."

Boreas merely grunted, though his eyes warmed considerably when he took in the bags of supplies that his fellow wind dragons had brought.

"You mentioned aid, private?"

"Yes sir," the electricity dragon answered with a quick nod. "Spirit gems and other medical supplies."

Boreas let out a thoughtful hum. "Then it looks like we're in your debt, Councillor. These supplies are going to help more than you can imagine. I'm sure the Guardians will give you their deepest gratitude for this."

Kaver's smile widened a touch. "As I told your guard here, this was the least we could do. More will come."

The normally stoic dragon's muzzle twitched up in a brief, rare smile of his own. "That will come as an enormous relief." He promptly returned to his business-like demeanour, his eyes steeling over once more. "Let's not waste any time here, then. Private, you can return to your post. Thank you for your assistance."

The electricity dragon saluted smartly with his wing and launched himself back into the sky, heading off to the north to rejoin his patrol-mates. Kaver focused his attention back upon Boreas just as the wind dragon captain beckoned with a wing.

"This way, please. The healers will be eager to begin distributing these supplies as soon as possible."

Kaver nodded. "Of course."

Boreas turned to his right, beginning a brisk walk along the perimeter of the square, workers and other passers-by promptly moving out of the way as he passed. Kaver fell into step with him.

"It's good to see that you're alright, Captain," Kaver told him. "When we heard of the attack back in Sky Haven we were quite worried."

Boreas offered another ghost of a smile. "I'm touched, Councillor. I certainly could have fared worse."

"And your family? How are they?"

"Also okay, all things considered," Boreas nodded, and Kaver let out the breath he'd been silently holding. "They got banged up in the attack, same as everyone, but thankfully they'll both recover."

"Nothing too serious, I hope."

"Gale took a couple of nasty cuts, but she's healing well," Boreas said. His eyes darkened then, his muzzle tightening. "Chinook is in worse shape. Multiple broken ribs."

Kaver flinched, his eyes widening in concern. "But he will be alright?"

"Eventually," Boreas nodded, letting out a huff. "It's a small miracle, if anything. If he'd stayed in the shelter with Gale he would have been fine, but something possessed him into thinking that flying off to fight that purple dragoness head on was a good idea."

Kaver recoiled even further. "He did what?"

Boreas' only reply was a gruff snort. Kaver's gaze drifted away as he puzzled over this news. The captain's son had always had a reputation for mischief back in Sky Haven, but this was an entirely new level of recklessness.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Boreas made a sharp right turn down the main walkway that bisected the field hospital into two halves, and all at once the group was enveloped with noise. A multitude of voices were layered on top of each other, some calling orders and instructions as the healers laboured, others forming a faint, haunting chorus of pain and torment from the wounded. To Kaver's surprise the hut's entrances were all open, only allowing the pitiful noise to flow out into the open air more easily. He would have expected the doorways to be covered with sheets at least for privacy and sanitation's sake, but it appeared that every spare bit of cloth that could be found had been repurposed for splints and bandage wrapping. He tried not to look inside of any of the stone structures, both to avoid disturbing the patients within and fearing what he might see.

A minute later the councillor spotted a pair of larger constructions that he assumed must be their destination, flanking the walkway on either side and standing out from the rest of the tightly-packed shelters by scale if nothing else. Without hesitation Boreas angled for the open doorway of the building on the right as soon as they'd arrived, disappearing inside. Kaver made to follow, but movement on his left caught his eye. When he registered the colour purple he faltered, his gaze settling upon the adolescent dragon that had just stepped around the corner of the other main building.

For a fleeting second Kaver thought the young dragon was Spyro, and a shot of relief filled him before he promptly realized his mistake and the feeling withered into confusion once more. The shape of this youth's horns and muzzle were wrong, and the bronze streaks across his scales didn't match Kaver's memory of Spyro at all. The red tinge of his eyes lent a harsh and piercing air to his gaze as he peered back at the wind dragons, even if one of them was partially obscured by the strips of dirty cloth that were wrapped around the left side of his head. Despite the fact that he was many times smaller in stature than the adult dragons, there was still an intimidating presence about him. Kaver felt a nervous tingle run down his spine.

"Isn't he the one that attacked Warfang and all those other villages before?" one of the other wind dragons whispered.

The purple dragon's cold gaze swept down toward the supplies the newcomers were carrying, then back up to meet Kaver's stare. He said nothing, though, his expression masked. A moment later he turned and walked into the stone hut on the other side of the path, disappearing from sight. The only thing that Kaver could feel in the wake of this encounter was more confusion.

"Councillor," Boreas' firm voice called from within the first building, and with a mild start Kaver swung his head around to see the armoured dragon looking out at them from just inside the doorway. Shaking his head, Kaver brought his mind back to the task at paw and followed the captain inside, the other wind dragons doing the same.

The interior of the structure was just as plain as the outside, and also just as busy. Dozens of moles and a small pawful of dragons working at a tiresome pace to deliver as much care for the city's wounded as they could with the meager amount of supplies at their disposal.

Long, flat stone workbenches had been erected along the walls of the building, larger tables filling the space in between. Along one wall a group of moles were sorting a variety of herbs into small piles while others used mortars and pestles to crush them into pastes, scooping the concoctions into small wooden bowls or mixing them into cauldrons with boiling water to serve as oral remedies and painkillers. Against the next wall they were stripping down pieces of broken timber to use as splints. Nearby another couple of moles were deconstructing fabrics from clothing, bed sheets, drapes, tapestries and pretty much anything else they could get their hands on, setting the cloth aside for bandages while saving the thread for stitches.

Nearer to the entrance, an ice dragon and a fire dragon were working together to fill metal vats with clean water, which a crew of moles were using to scrub as much blood and dirt as possible out of a pile of more used bandage wrappings. The realization that the healers were forced to reuse bandages in spite of the tremendous sanitation risk struck Kaver more starkly than anything he had seen yet, and it was only then that he appreciated just how desperate the situation within the city truly was.

Fortunately there was another discovery of a more positive nature to be found here, in the form of a second familiar face amongst the chaos. At the end of the nearest workbench, sitting down next to a small pile of freshly washed bandages, was an unmistakeable dragoness of midnight black scales. Cynder was leaning over one of the tubs of water that had just been carted over to her, carefully dribbling a thin stream of venom into it from her jaws. An older mole stood at her side, surveying the poison as it dripped into the vat. He was constantly looking between a scattering of thin flower petals that were floating on the water's surface, causing Kaver to frown in confusion until the petals began to shift from a cool blue-purple colouring to a more vibrant red.

"That's good," the mole abruptly declared, holding a hand up. "That should be concentrated enough, Cynder. Now, let's see about getting these wrappings sterilized as quickly as we can."

The dragoness nodded, pausing just long enough to wipe a forepaw across her eyes and stifle a yawn.

"Sure thing, Geldric," she said, and Kaver could easily hear the weariness in her voice. Like the party of wind dragons it appeared that she had been up through the night, and Kaver frowned sympathetically.

Despite her fatigue, the dragoness didn't falter in her work. Reaching over to the pile of old wrappings—which still bore notable patches of a faded red colouring even after washing—she picked up a long strip of fabric between her forepaws and dipped it into the tub of water before her, holding it beneath the surface for several seconds and wringing the water through it. Once done she pulled the bandage up, squeezed as much water out of it as she could, and set it aside to start a new pile before repeating the process. She didn't look up once as she laboured at her task, not even noticing the wind dragons' arrival, and in her eyes Kaver could make out the same grim, hard resolve that he had seen in many of the guards and workers so far.

Just at that moment he noticed Boreas moving farther ahead of him, stepping toward a slightly smaller ice dragon with a white cloak draped over his back and shoulders, the fabric in a similar dishevelled state as many of the mole healers.

"Fresh supplies for you, doctor," the captain reported.

The ice dragon's head perked upward, and he turned around to face the newcomers.

"Supplies?" he repeated, and the moment his eyes fell upon the group of travelers they widened in noticeable surprise.

Taking note of the healer's inquisitive stare, Kaver slipped his bags off with the help of one of his colleagues and set it down before the other dragon. The healer moved forward, reaching to undo the straps securing the bag shut. When he opened the flap the comforting glow of spirit gems shone forth, and immediately the dragon's body seemed to deflate, the stiff tension that had been wracking his form leaving him in one great, relieved breath.

"We brought as much as we could without slowing our flight too much," Kaver spoke up. "Along with the spirit gems we also have clean bandages some other medicines. We know that it's not much, but—"

"Not much?" the healer cut him off, meeting the wind dragon's gaze with a shocked one of his own. "These supplies will help us more than you imagine. They will save dozens of lives that we simply didn't have the means to before! This is incredible. Thank you!"

Kaver hesitated for a second, caught off guard by the emphasis with which the healer spoke, but soon enough he felt a smile returning to his muzzle.

"Well, rest assured, our council is ready to send more. As soon as my report is delivered back to Sky Haven I'm sure another shipment will be arranged."

The healer's eyes brightened even more, a smile of his own growing. "I can't thank you enough for this. I'm no Guardian, but I can say without a doubt that Warfang is in your debt."

Kaver could think of no words to respond with this time, but thankfully the ice dragon chose that moment to focus back upon the supplies.

"Could you bring the bags over here, please? We'll need to take inventory before we can redistribute the supplies among the other healing sites."

"Of course," Kaver replied, taking hold of the straps of his bags with a forepaw and nodding his head to the other wind dragons.

At the healer's direction the wind dragons carried their bags over to one of the back corners of the structure, near where the moles were working with the fabrics for bandages. They set their load down in a pile, and a pair of moles quickly hurried over to begin sorting the contents. Red gems, green gems, bandage wrapping, ointments and vials of more potent medicines were swiftly arranged onto the workbench surface while another mole with a scrap of parchment and a quill was dutifully taking stock of each item.

"We really can't thank you enough for this," the ice dragon reiterated, facing Kaver with another weary but grateful smile. "These supplies will be put to good use."

"I'm glad," Kaver answered. His eyes turned to his travelling companions, taking note of their drooping postures, and his expression creased with concern. "I hate to impose when you're all clearly so busy, but it's been a long journey for us. Is there somewhere that my colleagues would be able to rest?"

"We can arrange that," Boreas spoke up, stepping closer. "We're not in the best shape to accommodate guests at the moment, but we'll find something."

Kaver let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Boreas nodded. "Please follow me."

He motioned with his wing toward the exit and Kaver didn't hesitate to comply, falling into step behind the captain once more. His fellow travellers followed suite, and soon they were once more standing in the dim early morning light. Boreas beckoned to a nearby guard with his wing, and after being briefed on the situation the guard set off to find a suitable shelter for the new arrivals, the wind dragons in tow. Only Kaver remained behind, lingering next to the grey-scaled captain.

"Would it be possible to speak with the Guardians now?" he asked. "I would like to be fully appraised on the state of the city to begin making my report to the council."

"Yes, of course," Boreas replied with another nod. "Right in here, councillor."

He turned toward the second large building, the one the purple dragon had entered before, and without another word he padded over to the entrance and ducked inside. Kaver did the same a second later, entering with unsure steps as he wondered what he would find inside.

He hadn't been expecting the guards. Immediately upon entering the building he found himself flanked by two moles in full metal armour, standing on either side of the doorway with hands firmly clasping the pommels of their swords, ready to draw their weapons at an instant's notice. Their small, squinting eyes scrutinized Kaver in almost obsessive detail, searching for the tiniest hint of a threat, and the wind dragon shrunk under their gaze despite their much smaller stature than himself.

Four more guards were stationed within the building, these ones dragons. Also decked in full plate armour, two of them stood a few steps further into the building by opposite walls, just ahead of the large open chamber's current residents. The other two stood in the back corners, making sure there wasn't an inch of the building's interior that was left unmonitored. Their eyes were likewise fixed upon the newcomer, though they did look away long enough to salute their captain. Kaver was startled by the intensity of this security, but then he recalled the descriptions of the wraiths that he had heard back in Sky Haven and he quickly understood.

The heavy guard presence was even more understandable as soon as Kaver took in the room's other occupants. Spaced apart within the open space were four thin, padded cots, spacious lanes left open between them for the four healers currently present to work unimpeded. The patients lying atop these cots were without a doubt worthy of such close protection, and the mere sight of them—and in particular the state they were in—was enough to take Kaver's breath away.

First there was the Electricity Guardian, Volteer. Kaver suspected that when standing and in good health this dragon would be of impressive stature, perhaps a half head taller than Kaver himself and slightly more heavily built. Now, though, his appearance was anything but impressive. His body was littered with wounds, some covered by strips of bandages while others were merely coated in herbal salves similar to those Boreas sported. He was unconscious, his body splayed out ungracefully atop his cot and utterly limp. He almost looked dead, save for the slow, shallow rise and fall of his flanks.

Next came the Fire Guardian, and Kaver felt his stomach churn at the sight of him. Though smaller than his colleagues, this younger dragon was still of strong build. However, this physique was completely marred by the countless cuts and punctures afflicting him, most notably the long, deep slashes that covered his entire flank. They were coloured an angry red, badly inflamed, and the flesh around the cuts almost looked dead, with discoloured skin and broken, corroded scales. One of the healers, a dragon, was currently tending to him, appearing to do everything in her power to prevent further infection. She was carefully washing the wounds with a cloth and a small bucket of water, applying herbal disinfecting agents afterward. Like the Electricity Guardian, the red dragon appeared to be unconscious. Whether this was out of shock from his injuries or whether the healers had sedated him was unclear, but Kaver had no doubt that it was preferable to the fire dragon this way.

Thirdly, Kaver looked to the Ice Guardian, Cyril. Unlike the other two he was awake and alert, though he was just as covered in bandages and injuries as his yellow colleague. Captain Boreas had moved over to him since entering the building and now they were speaking in quiet tones that Kaver couldn't quite overhear, likely discussing the state of affairs within the city. Cyril's face was set in a grim scowl, and there were evident bags under his eyes from lack of rest, stress showing through in his body's stiff posture. It would seem that being the only Guardian fit enough to manage his duties was taking a significant toll on him already in this ongoing crisis. Kaver felt a sympathetic twinge in his chest, not eager to imagine being in his position.

That left the fourth cot, the only one not reserved for a Guardian, but there was no doubt that the dragon occupying it was of just as much importance as the other three patients.

There was a fleeting sense of relief when Kaver saw one more familiar face, but that feeling was very quickly erased when he took in Spyro's condition. The young purple dragon was lying on his side, eyes closed, and it was difficult to tell if he was asleep or completely unconscious like the two Guardians were. Much of his body was covered in bandage wrapping, and Kaver cringed internally when he saw how much of it was stained red with drained blood. A mole healer was currently working on these wrappings, removing the old ones and checking the state of Spyro's wounds before applying fresh bandages on top of them. As Kaver watched, the mole unwound one of the bandages from the smaller dragon's chest, revealing three large slash marks from a dragon's talons.

Spyro didn't stir as the mole worked, reinforcing the suspicion that he was truly knocked out, and Kaver felt a rising swell of worry and sympathy for him. It was wrong to see a dragon so young in such a state. He didn't know Spyro well, having only had contact with him for a couple of days, but he could remember the bright, enthusiastic personality the youth had displayed during that time. He didn't deserve to be struck down by this kind of pain.

Kaver's gaze drifted away from the injured purple dragon, and that was when he noticed the final residents of the room. Against the right wall of the building, near Volteer, a lone cheetah sat in a wooden chair with a burgundy cloak draped over his shoulders and a bow and quiver resting against the side of his seat. His tunic was open, revealing several strips of bandages wrapped around his midsection while his left arm was secured across his chest in a sling. He was watching Kaver with a neutral, inquisitive expression, but Kaver could see the guarded edge beneath. The councillor wondered who this cheetah was to be here in the Guardians' company.

Turning to the other side of the room, near Spyro, Kaver's eyes found the mysterious purple dragon from before. He was still watching Kaver with the same masked, inscrutable expression as previously, and still the sharp gaze of his red-tinged irises set the larger dragon on edge. He was lying down close to Spyro's cot, almost defensive in his placement, and Kaver wondered what the connection between the two of them might have been—beyond their scale colour, of course.

Finally, he looked toward perhaps the oddest occupants of the room: three dragonflies which were hovering around Spyro with clearly anxious expressions. They were speaking quietly to each other and to the healer that was treating the young dragon, though every now and then they would glance up at Kaver curiously. Again, Kaver wondered what the connection between all of them could be.

Such an unusual gathering of individuals, he thought to himself.

"Councillor."

His had snapped up at Boreas' call, and he found that both the captain and Cyril were now looking toward him. Bringing his mind back to more immediate matters, he softly padded over to join them, bowing his head respectfully as he approached.

"Master Cyril," he said. "It is an honour to make your acquaintance." He paused, his mood sobering. "...My condolences for Master Terrador."

Cyril's expression also tightened, becoming masked and tense before he gave a small nod.

"Yes...his loss has been quite a shock." He was silent for another moment before roughly shaking his head. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance as well, though, Councillor Kaver."

He inclined his head in return to Kaver's greeting. Though his tone was formal, his voice had a faint rasp to it that betrayed his exhausted state.

"Boreas informs me that we in Warfang are indebted to you and your city. Medical supplies are something that we have been in terrible need of since the attack. This kindness is beyond appreciated."

Kaver waved a paw in protest. "It's no problem, really. It would be wrong if we didn't share our resources in a time when they're so badly needed."

Cyril offered a thin smile. "Be that as it may, this is still a debt that Warfang will remember. It is a relief to hear of Sky Haven's willingness to help, though. The thing Warfang needs most at a time like this is friends."

"Well, we'll do what we can. We are a small city, so aside from spirit gems there may not be much more that we can offer. That's why I intend to stay here in the city, however: to see if there is more help that we can bring down the line."

Cyril appeared surprised at this news. "Is that so? Well, that is quite generous."

Kaver waved his paw again. "I like to think that if the roles were reversed, Warfang would do the same for us. Regardless, I'll need more information to send back to the council when my colleagues set out on their return journey. I hate to be a burden when you clearly have too much on your plate already, but do you think you would have an opportunity soon to fill me in on the full situation here? I..."

The wind dragon trailed off mid sentence, and despite fighting it as hard as he could a yawn still broke through his resistance. He was quick to cover it with his wing, but it was still impossible for the other dragons to miss.

"A more in-depth discussion would best wait until you've had some time to rest," the Ice Guardian said. "You must be weary from your journey."

Kaver stubbornly shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I assure..."

A second yawn interrupted him, and inwardly the wind dragon cursed as the weight of his fatigue grew more and more difficult to resist.

"I insist, councillor," Cyril pressed. "Once you've had some sleep I will be more than willing to answer any questions you have. I won't be going anywhere."

Kaver wasn't sure whether that remark was meant in jest or in bitterness. Either way, he couldn't argue with the Guardians' logic and with a sigh he relented.

"Good," Cyril nodded. "Boreas, would you be able to locate some accommodations for our guest? Councillor, how long do you think you'll need to stay?"

"Well, I'm not certain," Kaver replied with a small shake of his head. "As long as needed."

"Very well. Captain, I'm aware that space is limited, but Kaver will need something comfortable enough for an extended stay if possible. Make sure everything he needs is provided to him."

"Right away, Master Cyril," Boreas replied with a quick salute. Cyril nodded again in satisfaction and turned to face Kaver once more.

"You'll be well looked after, Councillor. Once a chance to talk further presents itself I will send a runner to guide you back here and we can speak in detail then. Until that time, rest well."

Kaver still felt a part of himself that wanted to protest, his desire for answers gnawing at him relentlessly, but there was nothing for it. Instead he simply bowed his head toward the Guardian one more time.

"Thank you, Master Cyril. I appreciate this hospitality, and I hope it's not too much of an inconvenience in a time like this."

"Not at all. Now, off with you both."

Boreas gave another salute before he faced Kaver, gesturing toward the door. "Follow me, councillor. I'm sure we can find something suitable."

Kaver stepped to the side to allow Boreas to pass, following after him once he'd done so. He glanced back toward the Ice Guardian as he walked, finding that Cyril had already turned his attention to one of the healers to discuss the state of his colleagues.

The wind dragon frowned, observing the Guardians' ravaged conditions again and wondering just how this city was supposed to pick itself back up from the ashes when its leaders were in shambles. When he and Boreas were back outside and the sights and sounds of devastation surrounded him once more, Kaver felt his frown deepen even further. This truly was a mess, and so many people were suffering because of it...

He sighed, the pit of worry within his gut growing heavier. Warfang had a long road of recovery ahead of it.

He only hoped that it would have the time it needed.