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Resurrected Bastard

Their flight proved to be delayed because of the sandstorm that slowed their flying down. The dragons weren't strong enough to force their body through the sandstorm despite of their hard wing beats, yet the wind caught up quicker than they thought. Seraphor was almost thrown from Terrador because of the wind, but with a little effort he could he tried to support the earth guardian by helping him steered around the wind. The flight that was supposed to last half the day made them delayed until nightfall, where they finally found the lights of the settlement.

Battered and dirty because of the sandstorm, the dragons quickly landed near the settlement and ran toward the nearest camp, halted by a dragon.

"What's your business here? Yort, what with the convoy?"

"We have no time. There is an emergency that needs help of a dragon healer. Quick, call them."

"Are you sure, Yort? They can be..."

"I said we have no time, especially for arguing!" exclaimed Yort with a snarl. "We must save Seraphor!"

"S...Seraphor! Alright, alright!"

When the dragon ran back to his rider to talk about the news Yort gave, the earth dragon turned his attention back to the silver red and Terrador. On Yort's gesture, the earth guardian lowered Seraphor slowly, but his opened bone wings were in the way until Spyro folded it.

Seraphor was panting hard by the time he was on the ground. His vision blurred to the point he couldn't see anything, but he still managed to stay conscious. As Terrador had given him a magical brace to let his bones at least stay straight and not trying to cut away his inner muscle, they could stall the infection long enough to reach Qeveriyt despite of the sandstorm. Either way, Seraphor's consciousness was slipping and he wasn't able to stand straight anymore. The pain had scattered all over his body he didn't even know his fractured back leg and ribs were painful. He wasn't able to move either and he was very hot in fever.

"Shit, at this rate Sera won't survive," said Spyro. "Where the hell is the doctor anyway..."

"Spyro, we don't call dragons 'doctor'. We call them healer..."

"I fucking know that! How the hell am I supposed to do in times like this?"

Spyro heard the almost quite moan of his counterpart when the silver red was trying to stare at the purple dragon. As his amethyst eyes and the silver red's azure blue eyes did he realized the dragon was slipping away forever. As he saw the slit was fading away he was in desperate attempt to make Seraphor stayed awake.

"Hey, don't ever fucking fail me, you hear me!" said Spyro while shaking Seraphor's body with what grip he could with his paws. "I don't want you to die again!"

"What's going on?"

"Sera...Sera is slipping away! He is not going to faint. He's going to die if we don't let him stay awake for much longer!"

"Ancestors...what...why it became so bad so suddenly?!"

Yort was trying to give him anything to do to not fall unconscious, even as far as biting him harmlessly. The sudden pain gave Seraphor another rose of energy. Cyril and Spyro also tried to cool him down but his body heat was too high (it's obvious since fire dragons had heat more than normal being could do, and also because they are hot-blooded being, unlike reptiles). The sudden energy return gave Seraphor a sudden pain to his whole body and he roared uncontrollably of the pain. His wound started to draw blood when Seraphor writhed too much.

"Shit! He won't gonna make it if he move like a wiggling worm!" said Flame while trying to hold Seraphor's body. "If he moves too much he'll lose energy and eventually die!"

"Hey, stay calm, man! Remember anything you can say as pleasant. Just don't move too much but don't slip!"

"I...." Seraphor was strained. He wanted to say something to them, but all he could say were whispers coming out from his toothy maws. As he started to slip away, the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was a yellow eyed dragon with black sclera, but he had no energy to think more about the dragon as voices started to echo around him before everything went silent.

Spyro and the rest were silent when they saw Seraphor closed his eyes, while the black dragon behind them said, "He's fine, but not for long."

Yort turned his head to the black dragon and said, "Oh, you have come. Can you help me fix Seraphor?"

"I can do that," replied the dragon. "His bones are just broken into two, not shattered. My rider will help in mending him while I provide the magic. So, Franz, you ready?"

"I'm ready when you are, chump."

The rider, a brown skin black human, then lifted both of his hands and started to incant something weird, like a prayer. The guardians sensed dark powers coming out from them and feared for the worst, but Terrador also found out that they were straining in the effort, yet he saw that Seraphor's broken gait was mended slowly until it became a normal digitigrade again. When they finished, the team realized that they were exhausted after saving his bones.

"At least that black magic works, huh?" said Franz with a smile to the dragon, with only him nodding in approval while panting over him.

"W...wait a second! That was black magic! Are you trying to kill Seraphor?!" exclaimed Spyro.

"Don't worry, my purple friend. He's okay. The magic I used is a kind of a tribal dark power I had," said the dragon. "Anyway, it's safe to carry this silver red to my shelter. I'll give him a kind of...refreshments while he's recovering. You are all tired after the long journey and carrying this burden, right? Why don't you all play a little around this humble settlement?"

"Nah, that's alright," said Spyro in return. "We just need a small place to rest, that's all. We won't gonna bother Sera until he recovered."

As they left the dragon alone, Franz asked, "Are you sure you know this dragon before?"

"We are acquainted long before you are even born, Franz. He's the first dragon I've ever betrayed, and I want to reconcile with him again after all these years."

Seraphor returned his vision to his own dreams again. He was in the middle of a burning field, where he saw many of his kinds, dead. There were many silver reds all around him without lives and he was in the middle of the fire, alone, little, and fragile. She saw many bloods covering the floor, and his parents trying to talk to him, yet wasn't able to as they lost their lives almost immediately. The dragon was confused, trying to find help, and he found the black dragon that stalked his dream attacking him while he woke into real life.

The dragon watched his surroundings. He was inside a tent big enough to contain him. He once saw a human tent interior but this one was somehow reserved for a dragon. As he tried to walk he heard a familiar voice which gave him a surprise.

"Oh no...you're still not fit in walking with your new bones yet, Seraphor."

The silver red turned his head to the source of the sound and couldn't speak much or even move, as if he had seen a ghost. Now he remembered the black sclera and the yellow slit eyes were the combination of a particular dragon he knew would had died many years ago. Fortunately he didn't left a grudge over what the dragon had done to him, so he wasn't angry all of the sudden.

"Don't move, Seraphor. Your bones hadn't regenerated enough for you to walk," said the dragon after a moment of silence. "And most of all, I personally asked other dragons to let me take care of you. You're very popular around here."

"I don't care about that! I thought you have died!" exclaimed Seraphor with a clear disbelief tone. "You were stabbed fatally. You can't survive!"

"Now, now, Seraphor, that is the past. For now, only you are the one that know about me." The dragon sat beside the silver red. As Seraphor could see, while he had feral size, his body looked more like a human, just like those draconians, yet a little more to draconic, especially his torso. When he lifted his front paws up did Seraphor saw his weird torso part, yet he tried not to think about it, especially the dragon beside him was half biped half quad dragon.

"Bartoz...," said Seraphor, calming himself now to tell him his name. "H...how did you survive that fatal blow?"

"Sera, it's hard to say this long time ago, but as you thought it wouldn't be possible, I returned from the afterlife."

There was a moment of silence again while Seraphor tried to take the meaning. But before he could talk Bartoz continued, "My dragon race is one of the users of dark powers, just like your mate. I don't want to talk about other races since that's not customary for me. The dark power granted me dark resurrection with consequences of losing their ways to peacefully settle in the afterlife. Let's just say I'm the dragon that was not likable in both the human's heaven and hell, bound to earth to always roam around as a soul."

"So now you've got a place to rest?"

"This is my old body as you know it 100 years ago," replied Bartoz. "There are no better bodies than this one, yet there is always a flaw to it. It was fortunate my body hadn't decomposed. Otherwise I won't be able to let my own body regenerate with the dark power I had."

"Dark power?"

"That's not your concern right now. I returned to my body shortly after you all evacuated the hideout, leaving my body be buried under the sands. From there I went back to a friend that became my rider. Then when I became a healer, I heard that you went to a journey and hadn't return, possibly forever. How about you? You have something to say about the journey?"

"Well, I...I still don't know if you are actually real or not, but you're one hell of a bastard if that's true."

Bartoz chuckled, "Well, how about if I am?"

"Oh you fucking bastard...."

While both dragons made some jokes about each other while talking about the past and their own experiences, Seraphor was in turn feeling grateful that one of his newest friends survived being killed. At first he was morbid to the fact that the one in front of him was more like a living corpse, but he knew the living corpse he faced was unlike the cannibalistic instinct-driven zombies he watched the movies once with Spyro. The silver red knew Bartoz had redeemed himself when he remembered that he gave the black dragon forgiveness of what he had done back then, and now he wanted to repair that relationship.

The black dragon then went out from the tent while Spyro went inside with Terrador. Somehow both were very concerned after hearing Bartoz's reputation as a voodoo doctor.

"Hey, there's no part of you got mutated, right?" said Spyro.

"At first I thought there is a side effect on dark powers, but I can trust my friend."

"I can't really trust a voodoo using dragon," said Spyro. "But I must say, this world and your friends are so goddamn weird."

"Welcome to my old life," replied Seraphor with a grin.