FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 9

People flocked to the City Hall, literally, everyone saw the strange display on the sky and everyone pinpointed its origins without problem. People gathered and gathered in the plaza, more devout ones instead of rushing to the meeting point directed themselves solely towards the temple where they spent their hopes and requests on the invisible paws of the Ancestors.

At first the commotion that was stirred by the unexpected event was not louder than the lively whispering in a hospital's waiting room. Moments however were enough to change the atmosphere into something entirely different. The Plaza no longer resembled a hospital after a tensing operation, but a restless bee hive that is constantly shook like a seashell near an ear.

The conversations were unending, fueled continuously by a new line of people that in truth had nothing interesting to add, merely their own emotions. All this caused the very same meanings being repeated using different words and idioms.

The filled with people plaza was like a soup, no matter how many ingredients or spices will be added to the pot, it's still going to be soup inside only more vile and putrid with each new spoon.

Conversation with only emotions and no logic behind it is exactly the same. The only thing that can be gotten from it is just more stink.

Darkness of the night was steadily creeping over the sky, yet even with moonlight slowly dominating the seat of light people didn't show any signs of weariness. The guards walking on the walls, the plaza and even the rooftops were keeping the inhabitants the same, live company.

Yet those guards on higher ground weren't as concentrated on their work as the ones on earth. Their heads were constantly jerking up now and then, observing the sky, watching for another change in air and if that change isn't about to shove a lightning bolt up between their butt cheeks.

There was only one thing that all these people had in common.

Nobody felt safe.

Yet not for everyone the strange cracking in the air was the main reason for their anxiousness.

Cynder was one such an example.

The moment a crowd started gathering up in the plaza she was immediately tucked inside the building, like a dagger a would be murderer hides in his belt under the shirt, by fervent pleas of Terrador.

She protested of course, convincing him of her bravery and strength, assuring that she can handle herself. He was nodding all the time as if in understanding, there was a chance that perhaps her stand broke through his pleas.

There is however not much one can do when a powerful dragon, three times your size, uses his nose and huge tail to push you inside a building. Poking as if you would be a ball that he likes to roll around in short distances.

With no other option present on her paws Cynder sat in front of a window overlooking the plaza, watching intently the growing crowd and at first only the right side of Terrador's back.

As time passed Cyril eventually descended from the sky and took place by his old friend's side, blocking more view of the crowd. The Guardians began a silent dialogue, Terrador most likely helping Cyril catch up with latest news.

News that were obviously formed by whatever Spyro and Volteer did in the library.

Cynder looked behind her shoulder, shuffling her paws nervously. She knew that the official order was not to interrupt them no matter what happens, give them time before checking up on them.

It was decided upon twenty minutes.

Not ten passed and she was already ready to break the order.

The only thing that stopped her was the sound of clicking claws climbing up the stairs. One crescendo of tapping claws she recognized all too well.

Full of relief and happiness smile stretched her lips.

Tail started to impulsively make short swipes along the ground.

Volteer appeared first, followed closely by Spyro. Both looked well and as usual, except the wide eyes that now stared through the window and observed the mob gathered outside.

"What is going on?" Spyro blurted out

Volteer opened his mouth to develop on those words, but then unexpectedly Terrador looked behind his shoulder. Their eyes met, the plea for assistance and worry in his friend's maroon eyes was visible as the shadows of the night encasing the city.

"I must attain to my friends" the Electric Guardian said apologetically

"No problem Volteer, thank you for the help"

Both recent work companions exchanged polite nods before the older one marched out of the building. Taking his place next to Terrador's last free shoulder.

"Damn, what are the Guardian's announcing? Look at all these people!" Spyro mumbled in complete awe, eyes wide as saucers, making his way to the window his friend sat close to

Cynder shrugged.

"Probably that the fireworks in the sky were a show from some crazy birthday party. Sounds way better than the first sign of apocalypse in my opinion"

He frowned, not understanding what she meant by that, looking at her as if his mate would be delirious.

"Come again?"

Cynder cocked her head, glint of a teasing smile disappeared under a veil of seriousness.

"You're not playing stupid, you really don't know"

Spyro smiled, his paw already twitched when he stopped in front of her, ready to raise and caress the soft cheek. One glance behind her however, at the crowd outside, was enough to stop his plan. Someone might see them, even if people seemed to be busy with something else the risk was too high.

Such crowds hide all sorts of curious.

"You must be straight with me Cynder, just yesterday I learned how to read through your teasing, all this carefree nature of yours is very new to me"

She snorted indignantly, faking the rebel yell to the best of her ability.

"Like it's my fault, you should have never said you love me. It's on you mister"

"Even if, that's the kind of guilt I'm comfortable to live with"

"Nu-uh-uh" she shook her claw in warning from side to side "Careful with that silver tongue, papa Terrador would get mad if I would press you against the window and kiss you into oblivion. I promised I'd be good"

Spyro chuckled.

"What has Terrador to do with anything? And since when did you start calling him dad?"

"Since he grounded me, I'm not allowed outside, for my safety. People might give to temptation and temper and send me flying as a treat to the very same sky that growled and drooled like a hungry Death Hound just a moment ago"

He moved a bit closer, tenderly placing his paw on top of hers and clenching it gently, offering all the inconspicuous comfort he had to offer. Whenever he touched her he couldn't help himself but wonder how scales that serve as a resistant armor can be so delicate.

Cynder smiled lovingly, her eyes glistened beautifully as her sight jumped from observing her partner's move to his pretty snout.

"I don't need comfort anymore, you made sure of that, but thanks anyway. I know you care about me, seeing you proving that will never become boring and useless to me however" she winked "Feel free to grope me whenever you want"

With a chuckle Spyro gently scratched the top of her paw, several times like a cat scratches a door it wants to get through. Her toes curled in happy response.

"I will always caress you"

She shivered slightly at the whispered promise, prophecy that will always be fulfilled.

"I would do it even now if that wouldn't send you to that sky you talked about, a part that I didn't understand very well I must say"

"You should, you did something down there that made the sky go crazy. Thunderbolts cracked all around and the focus point was just above this building. So yeah, you better start explaining what did you do that you managed to drug nature"

Spyro took a step back with a deep frown on his snout, eyeing his loving friend intently.

Cynder rolled her eyes.

"I'm not joking nor teasing. I'm serious as Hunter"

The deep focus disappeared from his snout, replaced by plain shock.

"It worked?"

"Oh it did alright"

"I thought we wasted our time, I felt absolutely nothing when I absorbed that gem. I don't feel any different now either"

Cynder's brow raised in surprise.

"Gem? What kind of gem pumps up your Time powers?"

With an audible gulp Spyro jerked his head fiercely to the side that something snapped in his neck.

"You know..." he rubbed nervously the nape of his neck "...the gem Volteer made...a mix of all known Spirit Gems"

"Oh yes!" Cynder exclaimed, making his eye twitch in shock "You mean the big, purplish one he bragged about?"

"Yes!" he responded instinctively, if there was something Volteer told her and now she is confusing herself he had to take the opportunity and avoid the ugly truth

"With pulsing light inside?" her excitement continued

"Yes!"

"And really hard surface?"

"Yes!"

"And a big writing on it saying You take me for an idiot?"

Spyro sighed in defeat.

There goes the opportunity.

Cynder royally cleared her throat.

"Spyro, I love you, if you try to repay me in lies do try to be more convincing next time, please? Now spit it out"

"You really don't want to know"

"Don't force me to yank your tail"

Another well fatigued sigh left his throat, his head slowly returned to its natural position.

"Don't say I didn't warn you"

She narrowed her eyes on him, intuition telling her where this is going

"What stupid thing did you do?"

Spyro swallowed.

"The crystal that we used for the process was no normal spirit gem. It was a piece from...Flare's crystal"

"Oh no" she swallowed "Don't tell me you beat him up"

"What? No! How could you suggest something like that?"

"I'm sorry!" she whined "That's the first thing that came to my mind after...you know, Volteer and all that abomination stuff. I thought that he might have snapped again and this time there was no one to stop him"

Spyro shook his head confidently.

"Nothing like that happened. After our training session Flare rested in Volteer's laboratory, that's how...ummm...Volteer borrowed the crystal"

"Flare let him do that? He drugged him or something? He went practically berserk last time Volteer suggested to take a look at that thing, remember?"

"Yeah, that's the thing..." he scratched the top of his head anxiously "Flare was unconscious when the borrowing thing happened"

Cynder's head jerked back.

"Excuse me?" she blurted out in disbelief "He tore that thing out of his chest?!"

"Not tore...just...took a small chip"

"Tell me you didn't know that until you absorbed the crystal"

He cringed, feeling small and embarrassed all he wanted to do right now was to stop time and run away.

"Damn Spyro!" she growled furiously at him, fangs wet from incompletely swallowed saliva, teeth gleaming like sharp, pointy razors of a gaping maw of a predator that spotted prey after days of meatless drought

"What the hell were you thinking?! You forced a part of Flare into yourself and he was unwilling to share that with you! It feels as if you raped him!"

"I know it looks sick" he mumbled defeated, head hanging so low that his nose brushed the floor

"How on the Realms did you manage to suck that thing into you anyway? I'm sure there's a cool story behind that one too!"

He licked his lips, for a second considering to make his stand and not tell her even the smallest detail more. But then he realized it would be unfair.

Not only to her.

But also to himself.

You can merely cover your scars, not erase them entirely.

"Volteer made a copy of the machine the apes used to draw power from the Spirit Gems"

"By the Ancestors Spyro! This has EVIL written all over it! It reeks of it! What has gotten into the two of you?!"

Weak, defensive eyes looked at her.

"I know it seems bad, it was some really ugly coincidence, maybe it was instinct, I really don't know. Nobody got hurt Cynder, Flare won't even feel a thing"

"But you should!" she stomped her paw on the ground, the lights from the braziers flickered, wincing under the pulse of shadow the room was filled for a second

"You should feel dirty! But you told me you don't feel any different!"

"I feel guilty dammit!" he growled back, anger effectively blocking shame under the unrelenting assault of accusations "But I also have you in mind and all the people, another cut on my soul is a small price to pay for everyone's safety"

"What the hell did I tell you about preserving your heart? No price is worth paying for sacrifice like that!"

"My heart is still there don't you worry! Besides what do you want me to do Cynder? Wait and hope I'll get smart enough while we watch genocide happen all around us?"

"How about more practice and hard work?"

"There's no time! You heard what Danox said!"

"That smug bastard could be lying!"

Spyro jumped back suddenly with a wavering gasp, his eyes were big and shocked, dazed as if he would receive a strong punch directly in the nose and a knee in the guts.

"You don't mean that"

A squeal whizzed out from her tightly clamped mouth after hearing his devastated, pitiful mumble. Paw shot to her chest where it apologized to the suddenly angry, pounding heart, which struck at her ribcage, cursing her for what she had done. What kind of vile creature does something like this to their own kin? To her own scales?

"Of course I don't" she mumbled with uncertainty, she couldn't tell if there is anything she can be sure about in this world

There was actually something.

Guilt.

She felt guilty and bitter, she could taste it on her tongue, smell it on her body.

It made her sick.

"I'm sorry"

"For what?" Spyro asked bluntly, perhaps this idiotic question would surprise him if he had any more stored in his empty head

She stated at the far war, ready to serve the explanation and the only viable answer.

She didn't know.

Minutes passed in total silence.

"I apologize for yelling at you" Spyro finally stated "You have all the right to judge and question"

Cynder shook her head, depressed.

"Not like this. All this worry about us is making me reckless and explosive. I don't want you to change"

"I won't change, I care too much for you to hurt you"

She smiled weakly.

"I believe you, but it's not me you have to convince" she nodded at the window where the crowd was lively discussing with the Guardians "You better tell them that the freakshow on the sky is under your control"

He nodded sharply.

"Right" he made his way towards the door, paw in the air already, ready to open the door

Before that happened he looked behind his shoulder.

"Let's not fight ever again, I feel strange after that"

"I'll try, good news is that we at least quickly reconcile our differences. I would never be able to stay mad at you for long"

"I would never be able to get mad at you at all"

A soft chuckle escaped her throat.

"Open those door already or you'll make other people mad that don't forgive so easily"

With a chuckle he opened the door, seconds remained before they will be alone again.

"Spyro!" she shouted, her paw jerked shyly forward, as if ready to save a drowning person, but at the last time deciding that perhaps she shouldn't

He stopped, looking at her intently.

She couldn't turn her gaze away from his purple eyes.

"Please be careful"

He smiled.

"I will" with those words he disappeared

The feeling of uncertainty gnawed at her soul like termites nibbling on a wooden plank.

*

Night didn't scare off the people, it was quite the opposite in fact. As a clear indication that the majority of working hours are over people sought entertainment and companionship. Since today both could be found in one place.

It was like the entire population of Warfang would group in one spot, spot that was unable to house all of the visitors. Many remained blocked on the staircase leading to the City Hall, while others remained huddled around a fountain, a crossroad sign of sorts, a spot connecting the main road and lower levels of the city with the highest one.

That was the fate of the wingless creatures, those that could fly occupied the walls and roofs, sometimes bringing over their lucky, non-draconic friends. That was the easiest way of reaching the plaza, the other meant squeezing through every possible patch of scale and fur.

No matter how comfortable or not the ordeal was, every boy and girl, old and young, pressed onwards to the same place, dragged to it like moths to a flame.

Present were even those that were disliked, looked upon with lust and hope mixed with a pinch of worry, mistrusted with a dose of uncertainty, even those greatly respected.

Not all of them felt a connection to the city, among them were even those that didn't care about it very much, however when something impactful happens, even in the place you don't really care about, that event will leave a mark and touch you in some way whether you like it or not.

It remains to be seen if that touch is a graze of opportunity or sign of a downfall.

*

Flare was in the Plaza, getting here actually as one of the first since he wasn't far from here to begin with. He was drawn here by the strange fire show on the sky that didn't scare or intimidated him at all. In his life he saw much more intense magical explosions, many of them he caused himself.

He was drawn here by interest, only recently he got properly introduced with the sky, it was already awesome to see it normally as it is, especially during the night. Night meant sleeping and that was far more interesting than any explosion.

For now, with the hour to rest still away from him, he was excited and happy to find out that the sky can shoot lightening. The most awesome things were the patterns and the lights, he could already imagine thieves throwing a rope from one of the biggest towers of the castle with their backpacks filled with gleaming gems. With the darkness of the night covering their escape the heist sowing images of fruition and riches unimaginable.

Then the sky decides to start it's rumbling, electrical show.

With the electrical, magical current forming an image on the black canvas of the world, bright light fills the earth, more intense than concentrated beam of lamps. With the highest tower being closer than any other structure to the air above, it receives most of the bright power.

Illuminating perfectly the sliding down thieves.

Tension thickens when they are suddenly spotted, an alarm breaks out, bows are being strained, incarnations are being recited, spears are being sharpened. Everything is being aimed at the thieves, guards rush to the bottom of the tower.

Just when many would think the thieves' fate is sealed, thick, obscuring darkness suddenly covers everything anew.

His head was aimed at the sky all the time, he didn't hear the people, nor did he hear the Guardians. Lost in his imagined world he was oblivious to everything. He didn't know that his body was burning like a torch, that his wildly swinging tail making fiery lashes in the air, like he didn't know he was one of the main reasons why the plaza feels so cramped.

People stayed away from him and his odd behavior wasn't the thing that mainly kept them back. It was the knowledge that he is the twisted reflection of a creature they hate the most.

*

Iris arrived just before the second wave of people. In any other situation she wouldn't care about any explosion or thunder happening in this shit worth world, the sky itself could crumble down on it for all she cared. Of course when it decided to shoot sparkling farts none hit anything.

And there were many that required to feel slippery, chunky streams of that cracking case of trots down their throats.

When she got here the place wasn't crowded, there was plenty of free space around, yet of course horny, dickfaced males who's mugs are more uglier than that of shit covered, leprous bum with so many orifices that he no longer can tell which one is used for talking and which for shitting, always found a way to brush against her.

On her cold body it always felt as if smoldering claws of a demon would poke her, heating the spots that were under the most attention. Like always, it was her rump and waist that somehow got brushed the most. As if she didn't know that the lustful motherfuckers are prodding there, testing if she would be adequate to fuck.

There was never one that was disappointed.

Many sent their friends of opposite sex to confuse her.

She knew better, they were all the same, even the bitches. In the face of someone who is above them, deserving only of her piss. Horny, worthless fucks did everything to sample a bite of a beautiful, sweet fruit they usually would never lay their stinking paws on in their entire, not a sigh worthy, putrid existence they call life.

She would kill all of them.

She wasn't bothered by the guards, if they would interfere she would kill them too. Fuck, she would wreck this whole place, shatter it to pieces after freezing it. She could have been surprised once, two times would never happen. She is too majestic for worms like this, they wouldn't be able to do nothing besides spilling their own guts when she stomps them.

Luckily for them, she wasn't powerful only, but also intelligent and that intelligence combined with her intuition told her that this unusual sky farting is important. Not for this world, even if it is, she didn't give a fuck.

But important for her.

This is why she didn't slaughter all those bugs where they stood, instead took to the air and as one of the first dragons took a rooftop entirely for herself. Maybe she can't destroy them right now, but that doesn't means she will allow herself to be groped like some whore.

Here everything can start anew, she won't have to use that alternative ever again.

Her patience was running thin, more people arrived with time and at the beginning there was no one here worthy of her attention, the old wankers ruling this city were nothing. If not for her intuition and respect for her mother's intelligence that she undoubtedly inherited, dragons of her stature inherited only the best traits, she would have focused on something else entirely.

Then that purple dick appeared right next to those old cocks, her eyes immediately focused on the worthless(cute) piece of shit. Even from here she could smell his stink(musk) as he is being already surrounded by the aura of age of his ancient, nearly undead companions.

Her eyes remained locked on him completely, for a second she forgot why she is here in the first place, all her thoughts circled around their recent time in that worth for nothing training grounds down below that stunk of sweat and naive aspirations.

She remembered well the indignity(care) he showed her.

How dared he.

He would get his prize for that, he was a bug(dream) like the rest(none) of them, he merely squeals louder. She wondered just how high tones he can reach when she will start clawing(caressing) his body piece by piece and making unimaginable torture(love) to him and the end of which she would surely come out dirtier and more alive.

While he would be completely withered(spent).

She waited for him to open his mouth and start talking, if there was at least one soul among all these people that could make things mildly interesting it would be him, she can't deny that in any way. That doesn't mean however that his breath isn't putrid(warm) like all the rest, it is, and there was no denying that either.

He is undoubtedly worthless(sweet), but for some reason all those fuckers looked up at him, the thing he did must mean something and ignoring that would be an insult to her intelligence.

So she watched, sitting on the rooftop with neatly folded wings and proudly puffed out chest, with the intention to be sated. She lusted for his words(kiss), lusted for the conclusion of her intuition(fantasy), lusted for information(him) how she could fuel her revenge(doubt).

*

Coriza arrived late, in fact she was probably one of the last souls that arrived in the Plaza. In every part of her being she felt that the scene that occurred on the sky was a crucial one, for everyone included, no matter their motivation or intentions, yet she couldn't find the strength to move, or the reason to do so actually.

Tears washed all of that.

She had no place to go to after that depressing confrontation in the temple, even if she had a place in the city she called her own after her roommate moved to live with her freshly found mate. Even if she had a place to sleep at the temple it was good to have a corner of her own where she could give freely to her excesses and wild, yet tame nature.

The place had no magic when she was there alone, that small house always dealt with at least two people, otherwise the time spent there was simply...boring. Having someone there, even that special someone that majority consider as evil, makes that spot magical. In fact she never had so much fun with a girl before than she had with Cynder when they were doing their claws.

No matter if the house felt desolated when she would be there alone, there was a moment she really wanted to return there, but she didn't, in fear she would be easily found.

And she really wanted to be alone right now.

Hence she had to commit to crying in every possible corner of the city, scratching her body on countless rough rocks when she accidently tripped, or nearly losing all of her uneven teeth when in fear that she was found she looked behind her shoulder. It took her a while to realize that no such thing is happening, her head returned nearly to its natural position just in time to catch a glimpse of a statue she walked straight into.

The pain that shot up her jaw was a relief of sorts, she didn't have to feel the bitter taste of her tears for a while.

She heard the sounds of cracking resounding in her head even long after the strange storm was gone, in every imagined rumbling strike she heard the voice of the Seeker criticizing her.

No Ancestors.

Even if the sky was practically dark and filled with stars, she didn't hear them and that was even more heart-breaking than any other stab at her faith.

She began to wonder if there was actually a single day when she heard the Ancestors at all, right now the sounds she felt and heard in the temple felt like a confusion of a wishful mind. She was no longer sure if she simply didn't imagine those voices in that very moment when she needed them most.

That qualm was the nudge that made her go to the meeting point of the strange storm, she was certain that she won't hear the sacred there, but she hoped...for something, she wasn't entirely sure for what exactly.

Perhaps she was simply fed up with her tears.

In the contrary to many other people she had no troubles getting inside, she could move to the very beginning of the crowd and look into the Guardian's eyes only if she wished to do so. People stepped out of her way, many familiar with her profession and those that weren't were quickly reminded of that.

She could see the pain and worry in their glances, she could basically smell their building up questions. Even if she was certain that the Seeker's words to her were private, she had a strange feeling that those people heard him, knew what he said and felt what he felt.

The most scariest part was that she could see the very same doubt she felt for herself in their eyes.

Suddenly she desired to get out of here as soon as possible.

She would do that if suddenly Spyro wouldn't show up next to the Guardian's sides.

She was familiar with the prophecy as everyone else, as a priest of the temple she probably had more intimate connection with its divine touch than other people.

She didn't know why, probably because of her desperation, she achieved a very peculiar enlightenment.

She is probably unworthy of the Ancestors direct attention, but Spyro, his purple scales make him special, but he is also the very same unworthy creature for the holy as herself. He might not be able to hear the Divine, but the prophecy was created, nobody knows how and by whom.

Except for her.

She was certain that the Ancestors created the prophecy and Spyro is the extension of their will even if oblivious to the fact. She had always an open mind and a room for logic in her thinking, this was very important to her since true faith can be confusing.

That logic told her that she is exaggerating, she agreed with it, but it didn't question the fact that there is something magical, holy, radiant about the prophecy and the purple dragon.

Right now it was enough for her to stay.

Moving to the center of the crowd where even the most talented headhunter wouldn't be able to locate her in the maze of differently sized bodies she listened intently. Hoping that she would catch some sight, or feel a delicate brush of some sign that would drive her in the right direction.

Because she felt that there is no possible way to mend together her friendly relationship with a side that is currently disfavored by the Ancestors in the eyes of many and her faith. One path can be followed and she had a feeling that there won't be no turning back.

She loved the Ancestors and her faith.

She simply couldn't understand why then she is here, with the intention to listen to Spyro. Hoping for him to drive her in the arms of her faith was as worrying as the glances of people that surrounded her.

They also couldn't tell where she belonged and were hoping that she will be alright. Unfortunately she didn't know what that meant, the answer to that dilemma was exactly hopeful and worrying like the powerful feeling of depression that carved smudges so deep in her soul like a steady, powerful flow of water in a rock.

*

Sparx didn't want to come, the strange explosions in the sky didn't interest him at all. Mostly because he worried about someone else right now and in all honesty he didn't have to find out why the sky acted weird.

When the world is behaving like never before it was obvious that his brother was involved, he was the only creature in the world that could make the forces of nature go crazy. He didn't have to focus on this event immediately, he knew that no one is in the danger when Spyro is the cause, he knew that Spyro wouldn't do something that would threaten the lives of the people, family and especially the love of his life.

There were rarely moments in his life when he was truly uncertain of things, distrusting was more common when it came to him. He preferred the latter truth be told, he didn't have much confidence in Cynder and she turned out alright. It was tragic that he didn't the same amount, or even any, of skepticism towards the cleric that reached out to him when he was lost in the first weeks after Malefor's defeat.

It would make things so much simpler, at least then he would know, or at least had enough high hope for things to turn out for the better.

He went to Coriza's house even if he was nearly entirely sure she wasn't there, nobody would do such a thing, except maybe the cleric. He respected her very much and it would take only a true intelligent person to practically hide in plain sight when nobody expects you to be in the most dangerous of places.

She was intelligent, she was so much more than that.

She wasn't there, he was expecting it and yet he felt confused. Not finding her here, where his most favorite part of her soul thrived, squeezed his heart, making him feel as if he would be choking on his own saliva.

He didn't know what to do and then, luckily, the sky exploded, heimmediately took it for a sign, people with even a tiny lump of a brain would do the same. They would have to flock to the center, he already knew his brother was responsible and for him it was as if he would be calling him to himself. If he felt the pulse, people should have also, especially those troubled and looking for some manner of answers.

What other dragon can provide those if not the one prophesied perhaps even by the gods themselves? Of whatever time of this world.

He didn't believe in any of this crap, he grew up with that destiny's child and the only divine spark he ever saw was the size of his dump that was the size of more than one dragonfly home. His brother was nothing else than a lucky, powerful, naïve, good-hearted and stubborn fool.

A special kind of fool he loved no matter what.

The moment he followed the sign he regretted it instantly, the conversations he heard, the soft, begging cries to the Ancestors that were nothing more than simple stars, the looks of mistrust and uncertainty, all those things reminded him of that temple that once he adored, but now was scared of it, even more than he was actually afraid of Malefor.

She was lost somewhere in here, he knew that, he could feel it and to make things even more terrible, he had a feeling that these people, not all, but a greater majority, knew where she was too.

His small size that many make fun of was a great perk in crowded spaces, he could maneuver through the field of heads with ease and his glowing aura when encountered by eyes from up close blinded them, which made the head to which the eyes belonged to jerk to the side or backwards, making more room for him to take advantage of.

Unfortunately looking for a shy mouse in a pit of exactly the same colored hissing snakes was no small feat.

The longer his search went on, the more frustrated he became. He spotted everyone, Flare with his head up in the clouds and even the ice queen who hated absolutely everyone and wanted to stay away from them sitting on a rooftop all by herself, looking somewhere in the distance, almost hypnotized and drooling. There was even Amela here, the main, popular healer surrounded by quite a big crowd of people.

Yet there was no sign of a priestess sharing the same faith, in this religious city she should have been treated like a princess with people stepping out of her way and bowing, making his job so much more easier.

The more minutes passed, the more he became aware of the glances thrown his way, he didn't really care that most of them he dragged to himself by flashing his glowing aura right in the faces and snouts of the inhabitants as he dodged around them during his frustrating, fruitless search.

At some point he even started to call the priestess by her name, even asking random people if they had seen her.

This was the moment when he came to realization that these people are purposely working against him. He didn't care if paranoia or his growing frustration, or perhaps even accurate suspicion were behind this enlightenment.

No help was coming from their side and that was all that mattered.

Most of the people gave him shocked looks, others narrowed their eyes on him as if judging if his request for permission to rape their daughter is a serious one or not, there were also those who offered him the combination of the two.

He didn't know what angered and scared him more, the true surprise that they don't know about who is he talking about, because he simply couldn't understand how people cannot even recall a tiny detail about such a sweet and wonderful girl that Coriza is.

Or the glances of mistrust that as well could be smirks of a toying with their prey Death Hounds. These people knew where she was, but didn't want to tell him, or perhaps they didn't know where she was, but that they also didn't want to tell him that.

He didn't know where the truth was, probably in the middle as they said.

All of this made things simply impossible to predict, as a flying example of mistrust he didn't want to rely on hunch and make a guess where all of this was heading. The uncertainty however is the thing that creates the aura of fright, with a guess, even a bad one you still know where you are going.

Without it there is nothing left and as far as he could tell her future is as uncertain as Coriza's dedication right now, with too many calls surrounding her, unable to decide which one to follow.

And that was even worse than committing yourself to one destination, even the wrong one. Uncertainty crates chaos, making you want to take a sip from every possibility without realizing at least some of them are poisonous and deadly to the previous opportunities you already visited and want to come back to.

When things like that happen, you start mistrusting yourself and there is nothing worse than that.

His cries calling her name began to sound like a wail.

*

Amela arrived with the second wave of people, ten percent of which were made of from healers from the hospital she asked to come with her. She would have been here sooner if she only wanted to, yet she always took her duties with great seriousness and had enough respect for the strange and unexpected to know that going into a fray unprepared is tragic in consequences.

If her loyal friends and companions from her clan were still alive they would confirm it.

She was making a round through the corridors of the hospital when all of this started, luck wanted that when the thunder struck she was passing by a window. A glance was enough to tell that this was no ordinary storm and as experienced healer she knew that surprises tend to bring bumps with them.

She immediately ordered several healers that were near her to pack their things, to take everything that is needed in case if a quick aid would be necessary. She followed her own command with great care, knowing that the situation might turn dire in a moment, but also knowing that haste can have disastrous effects.

If her loyal friends and companions from her clan were still alive they would confirm it also.

With a healer's satchel safely tucked on her waist she was ready to go, this time she was certain of her priorities and entirely focused on them so she didn't give the casket even the smallest of glances. Not even the nagging burn of old scars on her eye and stomach wavered her dedication.

The group of people she came in contact with as she and her team left the hospital was a big one and they walked right into the middle of it. However those people recognized them immediately, or more likely her. With deep bows of their heads and polite words they nudged them forward, until eventually the group of healers under her command was leading the wave of people.

The respect they showed her was intimidating, she knew that people looked up to her yet she never believed it to be as powerful as devotion until the young dragon boy made her aware of that. Just like she wasn't aware that her past companions showed the same amount of respect. Not until they were gone.

If her loyal friends and companions from her clan were still alive they would confirm this as well.

They arrived at the plaza and when they did a strong feeling of anxiousness washed over her. The group of people that escorted her team surrounded them, forming a cordon around them. That alone, even if polite no doubt, was enough to trigger her instinct and rekindle the burns once again.

Her hand reached up and instead of fondling with the earring like always it scratched the scarred, stinging eye.

This was the sign of troubles, sometimes she had difficulties believing that most of the cases she had to deal with, and they were always the most serious ones, came as a result of overprotectiveness than actual aggression and accidents. For every major case of brawl three more equally difficult ones called for her attention not long after, all as a result of defending someone from harm.

When it came to devoted protectiveness it was all about respect, the stronger it was, the lower was the care for your own safety. And such confused, even if admirable, tampered case of value had most of the times disastrous consequences, the sort of which you will never be able to make up for.

If her loyal friends and companions from her clan were still alive they would confirm this too.

When she ran her eyes around the people that nearly revered her until they finally landed on appearing Spyro next to the Guardian's sides, her hand impulsively clenched the satchel on her waist. So strongly that her blunt, old claws nearly sliced through the material. She knew that the contents are important, crucial even and yet she couldn't unclench her hand, spasm of old age hit her, making her feel fragile all of a sudden and worried that she won't be here to mend all the wounds.

The contents were important, perhaps not now, but in the future, because when it comes to troubles and difficulties nothing else plays a bigger role in conflict than respect. The sad information is however that respect is ambiguous and not the same for everyone.

Respect for ourselves guides our morals, respect for others guides our manners.

If her loyal friends and companions from her clan were still alive they would confirm this without hesitation.