FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A Greater Sense of Things

Seraphor woke up later than usual in the morning. He normally never did that with his obligations to his younglings, but he was still feeling quite exhausted, despite of not doing anything that was tiring for him. Yet, despite of that, he could say the time spent inside the shadow dimension was actually more exhausting than his own dimension. Thinking about that made him silently commending Shyplis for being able to stay very energetic and...British...at the same time.

He walked down the bed where he slept, which was once a bed where he slept during his 10 years 'stranded' in Dragon Realm, and was once Spyro's before he convinced Artigan to let him stay in the manager room, which was, apparently, Spyro himself. He remembered it when the once very immature and prone to anger dragon became an organized dragon, all because of Seraphor and Shyplis' guidance.

But now, like how a student surpassed his teacher, the one that need saving is Seraphor. Something was wrong with him, and he became determined to find out why.

When he opened the door, Shyplis was waiting for him, playing with a small electric ball which quickly dispersed. He noticed the smaller dragon and said, "Having a bad night?"

Seraphor wasn't sure what happened. Aside from him eating more than he usually ate, he felt drowsy and not very energetic, not like what he usually was.

"It's normal for you to be sluggish in this realm," said Shyplis while beckoning Seraphor to walk with him. "After all, your elemental strength is replaced by the shadow."

"So why do you have that electric ball playing by your claws?"

"Oh, so you noticed? Even if magical element can't work in this realm, electricity created by science is something else entirely. You see, Seraphor, energy in this realm is not canceled out, so it's basically the same with our world, but without any magic."

"So...all the appliances are..."

Shyplis made a nod while smiling. "No more breathing into stove."

Seraphor waited for the food to come to him (he insisted on helping, but Shyplis shook his head) while thinking of what happened back in the real world. Did his friends find Yort's killer? Not only did it was abrupt, he couldn't even have a chance to confirm the identity of the killer or if it wasn't a hoax. The more he kept thinking the fact, though, the more he got a headache.

"Goddamn it...why does trouble come when peace is in the best time," thought Seraphor while the food came to his table. The truth is, despite of being famished (due to the nature of the Realm), he didn't want to eat yet, thinking that he should do something to stop being a problem back in the real world.

Somehow, Shyplis noticed Seraphor's uneasiness and said, "Sera...maybe it's best you try not to use your element magic."

"I can see why you're so concerned, Shyplis, but..."

"And I mean it, permanently."

Seraphor wished Shyplis was just joking, but despite how bad it was, Shyplis always become serious if his red eyes were staring directly a dragon with a piercing look that could force a dragon to turn away. Shyplis was that kind of dragon. He was like a black humor character who had a sense of humor in a morbid and unusual sense, but become very serious when making a very bad joke, even how morbid it was.

"But you know I can't do that!" said Seraphor.

"What reason do you need? Your offspring are approaching adulthood and the Order is having new members, both the dragons and the riders," said Shyplis while taking a drumstick. "You, Spyro, and every dragon you know are ready to let go of your guarding duty. Just...find a better sense of things, already, will you?"

"Whatever the reason is, if I can't control this power, how can I go back to meet my son and daughter. Vysneris and Rhaynis are...let's just say they are not what normal dragons are supposed to be."

"I can tell you about your concerns to the young ones. Spyro is also concerned when his son hadn't hatched."

"But...is it hatched now?"

"Yes...they named him Alduin."

Seraphor made a small laugh. "What's with you guys? Is it a fate to name a purple dragon as a world's ender?"

"Guess he is destined to change everything in his time, for better or the worse. Right now, though, is your problem you must think of."

"But you can't just take all my elements like that. I'll die. I'm a dragon."

"Yes, and the Shadow cannot leave this place or get inside you from the main realm. Until we find out about the way things work, you'll have to extend your stay in this realm."

"I'll help you with everything I can do to help my body," said Seraphor.

"Yes, you will, but before that, eat your fill. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Seraphor didn't know what that mean; he just thought that because there was nothing to do in the Shadow Realm, it would be a long, boring day.

He was so naïve.

After eating, Shyplis wanted to start sparring with Seraphor, which surprised him since it was so sudden. Though the silver red obliged with the offer, thinking that it would be fine since he was getting a little rusty, he didn't realize that being 'rusty' for a long year was somehow, in many ways, proved to be a dangerous position he got into.

While in the middle of the sparring, Seraphor could still fight with only body functions, even incorporating the use of pressure points in his fight. Using his hand-like claws, he tried to get into Shyplis' underside and deliver a strong finger strike at one of the other dragon's pressure points, under a chest. But then, the purple dragon managed to grab the smaller silver red and threw him away, in a feat of strength that was incompatible with his body. Seraphor returned to the fight with a somersault, but again, Shyplis managed to find a point where Seraphor's tail was and grabbed it, pulling him down. Five hours of close combat and Seraphor was beaten to pulp, while Shyplis just made a long exhale.

"Shit...I'm so out of practice," said Seraphor while groaning.

"Yes, at least you understand your limit, but you have a considerable flaw in your fighting style," said Shyplis while helping Seraphor to stand on all four again. "Being out of practice is just an excuse. Let me tell you something very important, Sera. As ironic as it is, being smaller is not always the best fighter. Speed doesn't always outsmart strength.

"The way you fight is apparent because of the fact that you're effectively the smallest dragon in the whole realm, after Spyro grew up. You never get into a fight with a dragon with the same posture as you, and you're lucky most of them is not a skilled close combatant. It is also the same when you're in that prison. You're the smallest dragon there, and you used the same style of attack. Yes, targeting pressure point is a very great ability with your knowledge, but what if your enemy can see your movement before you can react?"

"So, you mean...I'm supposed to fight with a dragon on my size?"

"Exactly. Remember, Seraphor, we're dragons, not humans. We don't take the phrase 'bother someone your own size'. Each size has their own weaknesses. Big dragons rely on their use of elemental magic because they cannot fight something very small, like a human or a dragonet, like you. But then, small dragons relies on speed and wit, both of which are taken from you the moment you lost your electricity. Your overuse of elemental magic greatly strained your small body. It is fortunate that two of your magic is used for close combat, but your fire and your Earth element are evolving in such a great rate that it affected your electricity to the point of straining your muscles. The ordeal in the prison worsened the effect by damping the supposed elemental burst that's too big for a dragon your size, making it looks like what it is now.

"You may be able to fight a smaller dragon slayer on your own, but then, the probability that you might be killed is high. You're like a live target if you don't have any magic. You can't fly, and your claws are too big to target humanoid enemies. So, until you can assess the situation, I can't let you return to the main Realm."

Despite of the long lecture, Seraphor heard all of it, and couldn't make an objection. It was so true. Despite of him able to utilize pressure points, what he didn't know was that he wasn't fighting a dragon that was relying on elemental magic, but a dragon that manipulate magic. He was really like a new student back when he was learning under the Dragon Elders with Spyro. Look how well he had become (though it could be that Shyplis was secretly helping him inside his head).

"So what do you suggest me to do, then, Shyplis?"

"Well, don't ask me. Ask yourself, mate. That' your body."

Despite of what he said, Seraphor wished he could give him some better answer so he wouldn't feel so hopeless.

Days went on, and Seraphor started to feel that no matter what he did, he couldn't hit Shyplis despite of him bigger than the dragon, and started to lose his patience, which was noticeable by Shyplis. Just before Seraphor actually hit the purple dragon with killing intent, he stopped the silver red by saying, "There goes your patience, Seraphor."

This somehow snapped Seraphor back. Shyplis sighed, then said, "A week of not being able to land a slash on me can be stressful, and I know that. Let's call it for the day, shall we?"

They finished early, and had a nice, albeit awkward, monochromatic relax on the beach. The two dragons went silent for a moment, when Shyplis said, "You really should find something enjoyable to do, right?"

Seraphor then made a smile on his dragon face. "I once enjoyed picking fights with bullies, and I once enjoyed seeing my enemies in terror. But, those days are behind me now. I have kids of my own. My offspring. Now, I enjoy hunting with them and more a down-to-earth dragon than pretending I can fly with condensed electrons. Having a friend with a good back can have benefits, you know."

"At least, in life, you're doing fine." Shyplis then stared at a point, and smiling. He then returned his view to Seraphor and said "I am needed back in the main realm. I think you should talk to Spyro, too."

Shyplis then closed his eyes, and before Seraphor, his body was covered in the same small tornado when Shyplis, before being able to control himself, turned Spyro into a mad killing machine. After the tornado dissipated, the body that came out of it was different, with golden crest and Mohawk-like plate on his head. Those were all the silver red need to know that it was Spyro, and he was still bitter over the fact that the dragon was also in color.

"Hey, bro," said Spyro with a smile. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm holding up okay...well, maybe with some fatigue and drowsiness. What's with you purple dragons and destroyer's name, anyway?"

"Oh, Shyplis told you, didn't he? I wanted to call him Odahviing, but it's too Skyrim. Alduin...well, I would say your language had that kind of name."

"The closest is Aldwan, and that means 'flower'."

"Damn...guess he really will have a hard time growing up."

Both made a laugh to each other. Spyro kept talking to Seraphor on the status of the outside world, on how his family missed him, and how Avila got her friends back from Dark Realm. The silver red felt content. Not only that he knew the world was still there, he was relieved that his family wasn't in a problem with Seraphor's condition.

Spyro then concluded his stories with Shirdan in mind. Upon hearing that he was Yort's killer, Seraphor started to get tense and said, "I swear to my ancestors if I get out of this place I'll..."

"Dude, that dragon maybe your nemesis' son, but you must also know that his power is so unnatural. He..."

"He could manipulate light into hard light and ancestors, Ceroz was such a mad dragon I fed up!"

Seraphor then lay on the sand, with Spyro followed suit. The purple dragon, while watching the black and white sky, started to say, "I've got a feeling that we're into something very big here. Far bigger than this dimension's crisis, your war, and Malefor."

"I do hope we don't need to fight anymore. We lost so many friends..." Seraphor then growled. "I have no intent to lose more."