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The Legend of Spyro: Path of Delusions

Book VI: Sweet Desire

Chapter 1

With a soft slap the beautiful text disappeared underneath the thick cover, seconds later even that vanished from the illumination of the yellow, near golden light. Soon however its shadow appeared at the edge of the light, for a moment there the withdrawal from the light seemed just a delusion, yet it wasn't. The shadow danced on the edge, fighting what seemed like a battle of deciding whether to return to the illumination or retreat as planned. It disappeared eventually, vanishing for unaccountable amount of time, seemed like forever, leaving the ray of light illuminating the same spot, this time however an empty one. The thick cover with the golden text hiding underneath returned however, long time filled with emptiness has passed since it happened, but it was back and as if make up for lost time the cover hungrily flipped open, revealing the golden text shimmering as if in happiness.

*

In a place where nothing is as it seems, with things shifting beyond the reach of ordinary perception. In a place where many items floated in their seemingly motionless space, completely not fitting to be around one another as if gathered throughout the world while walking with a hourglass where each grain of sand embowed with the power of a single year.

In this place two eyes stared out of the window into the swirling, timeless oblivion of White Isle. Now empty, but ready to be filled with surroundings that a single touch create. A library after all is nothing more than a den of imagination.

Both of them those eyes were of grey color, yet the right one was gently penetrated by a flickering hint of orange. Both orbs began to understand that feelings are the gears of the machine called existence, those gears stir the machination towards its goal.

This is what makes the books scattered in this orderly chaos differ from one another, making one short and others extremely long. Many tomes like this filled this place, the urge to look into them wasn't caused by the difference in their length, but the emotion they radiated from within, making every letter as worthwhile as every previous one.

Even the completely grey left eye acknowledged this fact as it stared into the seemingly empty space ahead. This is what roots of Fate are made of, no matter how far you stray out of the original bark you will always end up at the same orchestrated spot.

The other eye protested with its fading orange tone, similar to that of a sunset, that there is more to life than walking towards one door. When emotions are in play nothing is certain, everything can be shattered or created with the passion of an artist.

The dragon to whose those eyes belonged blinked, during the brief moment his orbs fluttered thousands upon thousands of thoughts ran through his head with the speed of a crossbow bolt cutting through a vulnerable heart.

Eyes opened themselves back again, the orange hue of the right orb had a difficult task of floating into visibility as it fought through the overpowering grey vortex that was the iris of the right eye.

The grayish-light blue dragon turned away from the window that suddenly was a window no longer but a wall made of pristine, white marble. The powerful glow of the blue crystal dangling around the chest vaporized every shade of darkness, illuminating the path perfectly, making manipulation around the floating, steady and constantly filling themselves up Books of Time easily.

The dragon stopped in front one of those books, it was sprawled on a pedestal, letter after letter was appearing on the velum with the intensity of a scorch mark of a dashing spark of flame. The book never flipped its pages, whenever the black text was about to reach the end of the velum a piece of paper dropped on top of it, a page of another book that floated just next to the resting one.

The process repeated itself, yet every time a page from a completely different book was added to the main one. The dragon raised his gaze up, observing the many books near the pedestal, the joining between them, the amount of space that was still left around the main book for many other tomes to fill up the blanks.

He gasped faintly, momentarily pressing his paw to his mouth, hiding the shock, something he didn't feel for so long from everyone and everything, as if feeling the scrutinizing gaze of the library on him.

He nodded, confused by the fact that something so obvious like this could elude him for so long. One eye might believer that Destiny cannot be changed, while the other one might think otherwise, yet in this very moment the dragon was a single entity entirely, agreeing wholeheartedly on one thing.

On the uncertainty.

Power of desire possesses the ability to shake the pedestal and the book on top of it, the power of desire possesses the ability to send the spark of flame across the bridge formed by the falling pages to burn or completely torch the book on the other end of it.

He shifted his gaze at the freshly molded wall that momentarily became transparent just to disappear completely moments later. Instead of black void behind there was an entire space of flashing images like someone would be managing a scene of a chaotic theatre, not able to keep up with the theme of the play.

Which was titled Life.

And he was looking straight into the uncertainty, juggled by the manipulation caused by desire in the day that stopped something that was never stopped before.

Actors may be many, but how good will they be in their performance...

...

That only Time can tell.

*

A friend of mine once said that most of us are dead anyway, and this existence is just a dream, a break from the oblivion to allow us to remember how it was to live. She said that this is a barrowed life, unreal, better to make the best out of it and end it on our terms then let something else do it for us.

Whether she was right or not I no longer care, I believe she was to some point, we are sentenced to this drama for life for whatever reason. Perhaps there was some reason, I feel there was, but I'm just not good with words to describe it.

This is my final note in this...the old me would say masterpiece since it got a sip of my flawless personality...you know what? I'm the old me and the new me. This is my final note and THIS IS A MASTERPIECE.

I'm ending this on my own terms and in case I lose my vocal cords and the world won't hear me I want to say three things.

First, I'm following my heart desires, don't feel sorry for me, this is a relief. If there is some justice in this world I'll be with my loved ones and when the bell will ring for you guys just know that you all are invited to join up. You know who you are.

Second, keep kicking ass sister.

Third, this is a note for whoever or whatever felt obliged to play with our lives for his/hers/its creepy amusement.

GO FUCK YOURSELF

Did something just broke?

Anonymous The Second

*

Terrador stood in front of the massive and heavy door of the City Hall, as he touched the rough surface the door seemed to bend under the pressure applied by his paw. The door never felt so light before, he was almost certain that if he would take a deep breath and puffed the air out nothing would remain of the blockade that separated the main hall of the City Hall that he was currently in from the outside.

From the very loud outside.

Many people have gathered in front of the City Hall, from the nervous and angry muffled shouts and voices it wasn't hard to guess what, or more precisely, who, caused such turmoil. A weak small of consolation stretched the corners of his lips, Warfang might not be currently the symbol of unity, but it was good to see that its inhabitants didn't ram the door and have respect for the status of a Guardian.

People were anxious and frightened, it was perfectly understandable, the fear of black dragons is justified. It wasn't long before Cynder ended her reign of terror and now out of nowhere another black dragon appears. People aren't to blame for their prejudice, after all there is a chance that every black dragon has to go through a period of corruption.

He didn't believe it himself, but the doubt was there and even if he didn't want to, he kept thinking about it. A leader has to consider every possibility.

He flicked his wings and wiggled his shoulders as if he would rearrange a cloak on his back. It didn't help, the uncomfortable clench was still there.

Leader.

He let out a deep sigh. Even after many years of commanding troops didn't prepare him for this role. People consider him the head of the Guardians, Ignitus himself passed the mantle on him after all. Yet as time passes by he begins to understand that perhaps it was not because that he deserved it, but because there was no one to choose from.

Volteer, he is too friendly and trusting to make any reliable decision, being the people dragon is simply not his area of expertise. Not to mention that he isn't an orator, many would not understand him and if he would want to make it easier for people they would die of boredom during his prolonged speeches.

He is destined for a library and the search for knowledge, so this is where he was sent. He insisted on helping of course, but both of them knew his offer was that of simple politeness and support of long lasting friendship. He wouldn't be of any help outside, again, they both knew about it.

The other option was Cyril...this would be enough of an explanation for most people why he wasn't a good choice. He has everything that a true leader needs, at least in his own opinion, royal blood and the ego to see his ideas through. He would be a perfect leader if not for the fact that the heart in his chest is as cold as his breath, even if it's in the right place.

He would built an empire, Terrador had absolutely no doubts about that, the harsh through however is that it would be a draconic empire, making every other race redundant, means to an end with a promise of a better future. Future that would be reached when, or more likely if, dragons will reclaim their rightful place in society.

Luckily Cyril wasn't here right now or this moment would be so much more difficult.

Even if it was selfish to say this, Ignitus made the right choice. He isn't perfect and never will be, but the alternatives were far worse.

Terrador sighed once more, the realization didn't fill him with any dose of confidence, he was as reluctant going outside as he was earlier. Only another glimpse into his flaws, the lack of any motivational skill outside the battlefield.

"I'm too old for this" with this malcontent mumble he pushed the door open

The plaza in front of the City Hall was exactly as he expected, filled with many muttering and yelling people, the soldiers that recently left were the current target of the mob's displeasure. The rumbling effect created by the crowd didn't go unnoticed, many guards have appeared to make sure that nothing escalates beyond the bounds of order.

Definition of which was really stretched in a place like Warfang.

The representants of the Guard that weren't owners of a pair of wings circled the crowd on the ground, keeping a fair distance from them as to not be accused of taking any sides. The draconic members however were sited all around the walls and roofs of the larger buildings, occupying the perfect vantage points, ready to swoop down if the circumstances will demand it.

When the Guardian steeped crossed the doorstep of the most official building of Warfang every eye, including those of the Guard, turned in his direction. The city went eerily silent as if someone would pull down a lever with a label saying Mute on it.

All of this years of being a commander of an army prepared him for one thing for which he was immensely grateful. The inability to break under the pressure of eyes staring at you. No matter how civilized one can be, the feral instinct is there and whether you believe it or not it works like a sixth sense, sense that feels fear and uncertainty, especially in the ones that are considered to be an alpha of a particular society.

Letting the pressure get to you renders every diplomatic struggle to failure even before it really started.

People didn't see him break, this is why no one from the crowd broke the silence, unconsciously waiting for him to swing the axe of war.

"People-"

"You brought another black dragon into the city!" someone huskily screamed from the crowd

From there it went as it was to be expected, the mob literally roared, not really caring that in this combine yelling no comprehensible word could be heard. It wasn't really that necessary since everyone knew anyway what this is about, however it was still quite amusing to see all those people coming here to scream out their protests and hammer some sense into the heads of their leaders when in truth they are the ones that make no sense and instead of participating in a debate all they do is roar like hungry lions over carcass.

"We need to look at this from different perspective" Terrador's baritone voice rumbled loudly, far more audibly than the ongoing shouts

"What perspective?!" a cheetah sprung forward from the crowd, paw clenched into a fist

The forceful jerk forward was followed by clanking of weapons and armor as some of the guards, driven by instinct, tensed their muscles.

"There is only one perspective here!"

"That's right!" the crowd joined the feline

"We didn't live through the horrors caused by one black dragon just to go through it again!"

Pinpointing from where the shout came from was impossible because momentarily the crowd picked up on the words and started roaring their agreement with the mysterious speaker.

"A simple perspective" Terrador said when people finally calmed down, his voice unchanging and rough like a rock "Someone exceptional like this new black dragon would find the way our city sooner or later, now if he would enter our city is an entirely different question. By inviting him in we didn't give him a choice and this decision opened possibilities for us. We get the chance to learn more about him while also keeping an eye on him. or would you rather have a black dragon soaring the skies without our knowledge?"

The roaring of the crowd turned suddenly into a whispering breeze of conspicuous collaborators, people might be terrified but they aren't without reason. Most of them at least.

"This doesn't change anything!" a female mole cried out "We already have Shadow walking our streets! I don't want another black dragon so close to my children!"

Nods of many heads were followed by shouts of approval, mainly female ones.

"Then you can sleep safely" Terrador replied calmly "We are aware of the wounds Malefor and Lightbane caused, this is why we made sure that our new arrival won't be staying in our city"

"Made sure?" a mocking laughter came from the middle of the crowd "Did you already forget that it took the power of a purple dragon to beat a black dragon?"

"By the Ancestors!" a terrified blare came out from the crowd, from a throat belonging to an old dragon "Don't tell us you sent Spyro to control that dragon! Who's going to protect us from the creatures hiding in those portals or whatever that is!"

After hearing those words Terrador was immensely grateful to whatever force kept Cyril away from the City Hall, he could only imagine how furious he would be right now.

There was also a second part of him and that one felt badly hurt. He wasn't a creature of pride, years of battling tempered that particular trait, yet he had some layers of self-respect and those didn't want to accept that they were worthless and weak.

In this very brief moment he wanted Cyril to be here, or at least by some magical means took control of his mind and body and explain to those people that they can't rely on Spyro to do all the paw work. His cold friend was right to some degree, dragons shouldn't speak like that, creatures of nearly godlike status and uncountable longevity cannot give in to weakness.

It simply doesn't fit with creatures like them.

Terrador looked around the rooftops and walls, making sure that he isn't alone in this, when the young and strong, dedicated to duty would collapse they would be surely lost. He was glad to see that the draconic part of the Guard flinched in silent displeasure. He could even read a cuss or two from the moving lips.

It made him smile.

"Don't worry" Terrador stated, voice calmer than ever "Spyro's attention is focused on our city"

"If not Spyro then with who you plan on controlling the dragon?"

"Don't tell us it's Cynder!" someone roared horrified

It was enough to shake the crowd completely, many throats cried out at the same time, the rumbling sound was similar to an explosion of a dynamite found hiding in a pile of clothes just under you.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

"You can't put two black dragons together! Who knows what they could come up with!"

Terrador remained silent, he had no intention of breaking through the commotion, if there was something he learnt from Ignitus way of dealing with crowds then it was patience. When it comes to dealing with mobs the preferred course of action is to let the shouting members of the gathering chip their own throats.

"It's Malefor's influence!" someone else cried "He said he was immortal after all!"

He caught himself on a brief moment of hesitation, doubting his stern confidence. Both Spyro and Cynder confirmed that the Dark Master perished and yet he stubbornly kept repeating that he cannot be killed.

Was it only hollow bragging of a dragon drunk on power?

He always believed so, but in this very moment his nostrils flared up without him even realizing it and they caught the dreadful scent that tormented the Realms for so many years. It wasn't a faint smell, it was strong, potent, close.

It was everywhere.

He could smell it even on himself.

"Guardian!"

Terrador snapped from his trance momentarily.

"People" he said, tone steady as always, turning the moment of hesitation into nothing but a figment of imagination "Both Spyro and Cynder remained here in Warfang, there is no reason to panic"

"No reason to panic?!" a dragon, exclaimed in mocking horror

The Guardian remained unaffected, at least from the outside. Deep down he heard something cracking within him, revealing bloody letters pulsing on the veins of his heart.

What has happened to us?

"First of all let's make one thing clear. I didn't say anything about controlling, we didn't force anyone to do anything. Danox, that's the name of our new guest, came here with peaceful intentions, simply to converse. He made no attempt to protest when we explained the situation to him and how his presence would be difficult for all of us if he stayed in the city. We proposed a solution and he accepted, leaving on his own accord"

"Taint works in the most subtle of ways!" the Guardian no longer cared who shouted, it was him against the crowd and they all spoke mostly with the same voice

"Brill was right! You are way too trusting and vulnerable to the influence! I bet you sent one of your own with him!"

"YES!" the crowd screamed

"It really pains me to hear that there are yours_and _ours in Warfang"

The mob quieted down after the Guardian's words, there was something emphatically honest and blatant in the way of the green dragon spoke that made the people feel like they would collide with a rock formation that was always there but they simply ignored its existence.

"All we do is to make the Dragon Realms a better place for everyone, a safe place where every opinion matters. We didn't forget about that principle even when dealing with Danox. That is why Ignus, another new arrival, accompanies our even newer guest. He has no ties to this city or to any of us. He's opinion will be one hundred percent objective"

"You've sent a total stranger with the black guy?!" another loud voice of protest burst from the crowd

This time however there was only a handful of people that supported the yeller with their own cries.

"If Darkness boils within him like it does in Cynder, Ignus might be influenced by the Taint without even knowing it!"

Terrador opened his mouth, but then suddenly bit his lip, trapping his tongue between his fangs. His first impulse was to explain that a thing like Darkness doesn't exist, especially not in someone like Cynder who put her own life at stake for the Realms, but he decided not to do it. Questioning Brill's belief spreading over the people would be just another pretext to start another shouting fight.

He rolled his tongue back into his mouth, coming to an conclusion that it is better to simply let the words, sounding almost like provocation, be ignored.

Time will tell who was right in the end.

"The Guardians made the right choice"

The crowd gasped faintly, but it was not a gasp ringing with pain of betrayal, but admiration. One of their own had the nerve to say out loud words that most of them were thinking about.

"Very nice Guardian" a soldier who stood just ahead complimented him "You didn't lose your knack for resolving battles I see"

Terrador nodded formally, soul screaming in joy. He wasn't jaded after all, even after so many years.

"How can you say such a thing!" a voice of protest rumbled across the Plaza

"Be silent!" a group of people yelled "Let him speak!"

"Just think!" the supporting voice continued, it belonged to a cheetah "A natural party like Ignus is perfect. He won't try to ignore the signs of Taint just to force us to believe that such a thing doesn't exist, he won't also try to take every uneasy sign as the work of Darkness. He's not some youngling either who will give to impulse! He's an experienced dragon who no doubt seen many things in his long life, he will certainly know if there is something fishy going on or if that black dragon isn't worth much attention"

Murmurs spread across the crowd of people. Content, agreeing, calm.

"Go home dear people!"

Every single soul that created the mob gasped in shock at the sound of the shout. Noises of clanking armor and snapping sounds of stiffed bones echoed throughout the walls and rooftops, even the guards that stood on the stairs to the City Hall straightened up like they would be hit by a lightning bolt.

Terrador narrowed his gaze, at the end of the Plaza stood an old, frail looking mole enveloped in an invisible but palpable orb of respect and kind authority.

It was no one else but Brill himself.

The crowd parted in two groups momentarily, it was like an invisible staff would drop on the earth, cutting the crowd in the middle, separating the groups by an invisible layer of magical energy that only few could pass through.

The mole ahead was undoubtedly one such person.

The Earth Guardian wasn't awe struck by the sight, in fact he was somewhat disgusted and scared of it. He couldn't help himself but wonder what the world would look like if people would bend under the rules written by faith, follow something so blindly that they forget about morality and see nothing else besides it.

A grim perspective for certain.

If a world like this exists somewhere out there, the Guardian pitied it.

People started to scatter without a word, even dragons did, beasts that should be revered according to Brill's faith and it looked like it was the other way around. Whether the mole did anything to stop them from doing so Terrador couldn't see, there were just too many people moving around, all toward the exit.

All except one of course.

Brill walked straight ahead, across the invisible staff towards the stairs to the City Hall. His walk was slow and looked painful, age has the audacity to push needless into even the most powerful and respected it seems.

As he observed the hobbling mole Terrador couldn't shake off one thought out of his head that found its way to his mind like mouse to a basement.

Brill's days are numbered.

And strangely that thought was breathtakingly frightening.

With the crowd scattered and the terrain outside the City Hall nearly empty the guard on the rooftops and walls had no reason to stay, they disappeared as quickly as a stalker behind a moving cart.

Terrador and the three draconic guards on the stairs were the last remnants of the debate, all four of them were watching the approaching mole in silent concentration.

Brill hobbled forward, the robe he was wearing was draped over him like withered, old skin. He was nodding his head as he looked around, eyeing the many statues, his hands were faintly clapping against each other.

Terrador noticed the guards around him wincing, as if the claps would be the sound of echoing war drums of an approaching, overwhelming army.

"You my old friend are the living example why we erected these statues" the old mole rasped with a smile "You are everything a dragon is supposed to be. A complete opposite of your ice partner"

He tapped the side of one of the nearby guard, gaining his attention. He nodded in the direction of the mole.

"Assist him"

"There's no need" Brill blurt out automatically, pushing his hand forward with his palmed opened up, giving a clear signal for the guard, who didn't even made a step, that he should stop

"You can't fight with age Brill"

"I know, but creatures like you stand on a pedestal from which you shouldn't lower yourself to help someone like me. Those on the ground are just dust in the wind"

"You say that and yet among those people were dragons that listened to you"

"Simple, but precious minds can be found amongst every race"

The mole eventually crawled up the stairs, stopping right in front two big, green legs. He rearranged the goggles on his long nose. Terrador believed that the term goggles doesn't apply to the device the priest was wearing, but due to a void in his scientific dictionary he couldn't come up with a better name.

And the construction definitely deserved one.

The second pair of artificial eyes was way smaller than the ordinary goggles mole usually wear. It looked like two magnifying glasses connected by a thin black frame with a strap that went behind the mole's head, holding it attached to his head.

He didn't knew the word for this device, but the mole's black eyes were completely huge in them.

"Age hasn't changed you at all" Brill rasped, trailing the draconic figure with his enlarged eyes. Awe could be heard in his voice, combined with that faint, delicate hint of jealousy

"Death didn't change you either"

Brill chuckled, a laughter that immediately turned into a fit of coughing that he calmed by pressing his shaking hand to his lungs.

The guards around the mole winced, Terrador did the same to his surprise, if he wouldn't look around he would never establish a mental connection with his draconic companions that explained to him what he was feeling right now.

It was pity.

The mole looked older, so much different from the tales of people he heard circling around the city describing Brill when he was giving one of his speeches or leading a sermon in the temple. So much different than the single time he had to intervene when during one such speech the mole nearly initiated public lynching on Cynder.

"May I come inside?"

Terrador shook his head fiercely, as if being snapped back to reality by an explosion. He felt ashamed that he didn't propose it first, even if no hidden in between lines scold was heard in the mole's voice he still felt like someone would smack him across his snout.

"Of course!" he blurted out and immediately pushed the door open, instinctively putting so much strength into the ordeal that he nearly tore them off from their mechanical hinges.

The three guards turned around, ready to enter right behind the two of them. Terrador looked up at them and shook his head, every single orb of the six eyes sparkled at the meaningful signal.

All were radiating gratitude.

The Guardian impulsively gulped, not really knowing what he was feeling, he was only aware of the fact that his heart seemed to stop beating, as if it was preparing itself to accept some dire news that it felt were coming, finally letting go off the final strands of hope it clung to.

He slid back into the City Hall, all the time observing the guards flying away and wishing he was in the air with them. He stopped in the entrance, eyes aimed at the world outside, paw unconsciously pushed the door, making them slowly close themselves.

His eyes dropped on the ground, where the streak of sun entering through the door could be seen. A streak that was slowly disappearing beneath the shadow of the closing door, a bright scene steadily being shrouded by dropping black curtain.

When the last spark of light finally vanished and the door closed with a thud he felt like a lid of a coffin just shut itself tight.

"You will have to excuse me if I don't ask for permission to sit, but my legs are not as strong as they used to be"

The scratching of a chair made Terrador turn around sharply.

"Of course!" he blurt out startled, rubbing his claret beard slowly, throwing one final glance behind his shoulder.

Coffin.

"I think it's about time we talked" Brill said, taking a rasping breath, the walk undoubtedly tired him

"Can I get you something to drink first? Water perhaps?" with questions leaving his mouth he approached the table where the mole sat. His maroon eyes observed the frail more intently

Brill raised his hand in a popular signal of refusal.

"Thank you for the offer, but I must decline. Someone like you won't be serving someone as lowly as me"

"Don't be ridiculous. This is the duty of a host"

"This is not a matter of principles of savoir vivre, this is about faith and its commandants. I can't possibly accept service from a being I worship and consider divine. This is unacceptable"

"As you wish" Terrador stated with a tone that seemed to indicate sincere indifference

He moved behind the table, near the cabinet where they kept most of the daily papers and trays filled with snack and all different kinds of drinks. In his maw he picked up the one holding a pitcher with water and several empty glasses, he then placed it on the table just at the reach of the mole's arms and sat adjacent to the priest.

"I'm thirsty however, so you won't mind if I put it here" he reached for the glass, pouring himself some water

Brill smiled, it was a very kind smile that only someone old and caring can grant.

"If you ever had any doubts about being the leader of the Guardians I advise you to throw them away. You are where you are supposed to be, there could be no one better"

With those warm words he filled his own glass.

"It's about Danox isn't it?" Terrador asked bluntly

"Danox?" Brill repeated, putting the glass down

"The black dragon"

"It slipped my mind, no wonder, attributing personality to an embodiment of Taint is a cursed thing to do"

"I respect your faith Brill, but I won't have anyone accusing and offending someone because of the color of their scales. Not under this roof" Terrador said calmly, yet the stern tone of his voice was as palpable as rough edges on a rock

"Your dedication is falsely focused and inspired, you took a wrong dragon as your scapegoat. It wasn't Cynder's fault that corruption was forced upon her, after being released she did everything in her power to make amends for the deeds she in my subjective opinion shouldn't be accused of in the first place. You can't shroud the bad past of one dragoness onto every next black dragon we will meet"

Brill intertwined his long, cracked claws on the glass.

"Believing that she had no choice in the matter is a sweet delusion, dark forces can be resisted, you only need faith and will to do so. Trust me, I know"

He took another sip of water.

"This is beside the point right now, the girl can still save herself, hopefully she will realize that sooner than later and take up on my offer"

"I've heard about your offer" the Guardian shook his head "And still can't believe how could you even propose such a thing. She's so young! There is whole life ahead of her and you expect that she simply throws it away just because you spread visons of doom?"

"These are not mere visions, this is our future" he tapped the golden eye sewn into his robe "I've tasted the Darkness, seen its power. Ancestors reached up to me then, opened my eyes to unimaginable horrors if we remain idle"

Terrador frowned, eyeing the mole skeptically.

"Ancestors talked to you?"

"Your lack of faith is understandable, just as your thoughts are about me. In both cases you are misguided however. I can't protect your faith, you need to raise that shield yourself, however I can protect myself and here I tell you that I'm not the monster many take me for. I'm fully aware that the girl is young and has a lot of life still left in her, that is why I don't intervene and allow her to live it fully until she will make a decision, one way or the other. Unfortunately the Taint is a curse no amount of magic will heal and therefore her life is cursed. She has the chance to make the best out of her limited lifespan, adulthood is a stage she will never reach however. Pity. Unfortunately that's a necessary sacrifice"

"How can you be so certain of this?"

Brill looked up at him, something sparkled in his eyes, Terrador couldn't tell what it was, for all he knew it might just be the light from the nearby brazier catching the surface of his strange goggles.

"I am guided"

"By the Ancestors I presume"

"By faith dear friend, by faith"

"And that faith tells you to take command over a life of a young girl"

He waved his hand dismissively "Enough about the girl, she is safe as long as I live. There are more pressing matters"

The Guardian sighed "Will I like what I'm about to hear?"

The priest sipped from his glass again.

"No. As you should. That black dragon, he cannot be allowed to exist around our people"

"Then you will be happy to know that he won't be living in Warfang, he's already outside the city boundaries and will remain there"

"It's not enough"

Terrador's brow raised in surprise "Not enough?"

"That creature needs to be gone"

"He's far away from the city, in a place where nobody goes. If there will be troubles, which I doubt, we're close enough to react. You can't expect from me to send him to the other edge of the world"

Brill once again turned his head, his sight was sharper than ever, his natural grey coat seemed to gain on tint, all the shaking was gone, just as the appearance of a kind grandpa. Before him sat a priest, devoted to his faith, seeing nothing besides it.

"He needs to die"

The Guardian reared his head back.

"Excuse me?!"

The mole rubbed slowly the eye on his robe.

"Can you not feel it? he whispered "Can you not smell the decay? Can you not see the rot polluting our air? Taint is everywhere, it surrounds every one of us, Taint is in every one of us. Did you never felt its corruptive power?"

Terrador shivered unexpectedly "Nnnnooo" his voice wavered, a discomfort he instantly got rid of by clearing his throat "We all have a dark side, you are taking something for what it isn't"

The mole's enlarged eyes never left him, they were way too busy drilling into his soul, making him really uncomfortable.

Brill smiled with a nod.

No kindness radiated from his lips.

"I wish that you will remain in that lie, but I fear that you will wake up and then it will be already too late"

"Do you even consider the possibility that you might be wrong?"

"My faith is strong, it shows me one and only true way"

"That road leads to murder"

"Salvation Terrador" Brill shook his finger in a silent scolding manner "Salvation"

"I've been a warrior nearly my entire life Brill" the Guardian retorted sternly, not shaking under the mole's gentle judgment "One thing I learnt during my campaigns is that spilling blood never leads to relief or salvation. Murder is murder, a kill is a kill, nothing else"

"You're under the wrong assumption that vanquishing a creature without a soul is a vile act"

"You're under the wrong assumption that black dragons are soulless"

Brill shook his head "I've never said such a thing, there are two black dragons here right now, only one of them has a soul. The girl"

"Listen Brill" Terrador said with a sigh, tapping his claws against the table "I'm a simple creature, a soldier. I believe in what I see, if I would consider every tale people come up with I would be afraid of my own shadow. A clear head, with straight priorities, is important on the battlefield. All your attempts to convince me on the supernatural are futile. I need proof"

"The Taint works subtly" the mole said sadly, being back to his old, weak self, shaking claws clutched the glass like it was the only thing that would pull him out from the hungry waves of the sea

"This is its advantage, it works around people's ignorance and blindness. Forget about your militaristic experience just for a while friend and tell me. Did you feel entirely secure when that creature was within this walls?"

Terrador stopped for a moment, thinking about Danox even despite his better judgment and he could feel the tendrils of fear creeping and wrapping themselves against his heart. If this was because of accepting the existence of the Taint the priest speaks of he didn't know. Most likely not, he spent too much time around Cynder to believe in such a thing, not even the most intelligent and sly vile force could be able to act like that, displaying so much kindness, it would not bare it.

The only reasonable explanation why the dragon triggered any fear in him was hurt pride, the experience it had to go through when being drained by Lightbane. It was merely an instinctive fear, one black dragon conquered him once, another one could do the same.

This is prejudice, disgusting prejudice.

"Of course I did" Terrador said, baritone voice solid as a stone even despite his thoughts

Brill looked at him again, absolutely nothing could be read from his huge eyes, it was rather awkward to face his stare, trying to discern if the mole believes him or not.

The priest made no indication on that matter.

"Whatever you believe, getting rid of that creature is essential"

"What do you want from me Brill? My consent for a crusade? You won't be getting it, you won't murder an innocent dragon. I won't agree to this"

"I don't expect you to do otherwise, at least not now. We both need time to prepare, we are facing a creature that none could imagine existed"

"Prepare?" Terrador blurt out with a jerk of his head "For what? You want us to indulge into your most likely twisted world of what's right or wrong? True or false?" he narrowed his eyes on the priest "What exactly you mean by you need time to prepare? If you plan on jeopardizing the integrity of this city further you won't be allowed to continue"

The mole's eyes sparkled, irritation could be clearly seen radiating from them and the priest made no intention to hide it.

"Don't let Cyril's influence speak through you, it doesn't suit you. I will strengthen the people resolve, their confidence, nothing else"

"And just what exactly are you expecting me to do? Mobilize an army?"

"We already have an army"

A shiver ran across Terrador's spine, there was something terrifying about that sentence.

"We need a general" Brill continued "You will have to convince Spyro to join our cause, I can't do that for obvious reasons. I've tried already but he is too far gone for me to reach him"

The Guardian shook his head "This is insane, you can't expect me to make such a decision on my own. I need to consult this wi-"

"No" Brill cut him off fiercely "Your fellow Guardians won't help you. Volteer is exceptional and wise, but blind to the consequences of the unfolding events. I don't have to explain why Cyril is a bad advisor, he can't see past the tip of his own nose as you are most likely aware. This is your choice my friend and you better make the right one soon"

"And what if I won't make the right choice? What did the Ancestors tell you will happen then?"

Brill turned around, aiming his gaze at the nearby window where the slowly weakening sun of the day hid behind a cloud, letting the world be enveloped by the black curtain of shadow.

"We will all be consumed"