darkSpyro

Diabella continued to support Domax as they made their way home. They had just crossed the border into the the Viridian Labyrinth when Madesa, the Dunhoof Ambassador who stayed with their clan, rushed up to them, along with Potok's Silver Ferret. Madesa had obviously been waiting for them, anxious for news. She'd been told to stay behind, as the peace conference was no place for her. Things were bad enough between the dragons right now, no tension needed to be added to that by bringing in the Beastclans. She was clearly worried. "What happened? How did things go?!" Her eyes caught on Domax then, and her worry doubled. "What happened to you?! Was this a result of the peace conference?"

"Desa..." Domax started.

Diabella cut him off, furious over what had happened. "It was far from a peace conference! All that came out of it was a terrible curse upon the land!"

"That wasn't a result of the conference," Domax replied, pushing himself off of her and standing on his own. He suddenly seemed much stronger, and a sternness had come into his eyes. "That was an unfortunate event that happened at an unfortunate time."

"Or perhaps the perfect time..." Thymus interjected. Everyone turned to him. "I may not have been the one who instigated this, but if I were, and if my intent were to kill off dragons, as it seems it was, what better time and place than when so many would be gathered together?"

"You're saying someone planned this?" Domax asked.

Thymus shrugged. "Why not? The conference had been planned for awhile now, and it was well known throughout the world."

"I agree, it makes sense," Domax said. "It could have been planned. But not by those holding the conference!" He finished, giving Diabella a stern look, as if reading her thoughts.

"Of course not," Madesa added. "The stirrings of war that have been spreading throughout the land have been flight based. Flight versus flight. Had those holding the conference planned the attack, they would have killed only those not in their clan. But this slaughter held no bias toward any flight. It killed any and every dragon around. So the question is, who would want all dragonkind killed?"

"There's only one group remaining who comes to my mind," Thymus said, turning to her, his brows creasing in a frown.

Diabella mimicked his actions, knowing he was thinking the same thing she was. The beastclans. "How did you know the deaths weren't sparing any one flight?" She and Thymus moved in on Madesa, ready to take action against her.

Domax intervened, stepping between she and them. "Stop this! Madesa had nothing to do with this!"

"No, but her kind might have," Thymus remarked, not taking his accusing gaze off of the Dunhoof.

"Stand down, Domax," Diabella said fiercely, "Or I'll have no problem going through you, as well."

Madesa cowered behind Domax. It was obvious from her shaking body, and her avoidance of meeting their eyes, that she was hiding something. Diabella couldn't contain herself any longer.

"Out with it!"

Domax turned to the fearful creature behind him. "Desa....?" He asked, pleading in his eyes, hoping he was right.

Madesa slowly met his eyes. "I... may have had Stu go to the conference and spy for me." Finishing, she looked away, hanging her head, clearly ashamed for having disobeyed Domax's orders for everyone besides the four representatives to stay behind.

Suddenly Stu was beside them, running all about their feet, an annoying ball of energy. Diabella frowned as he nearly knocked her off balance.

"Stu!" Potok chirped, happy to see his friend as the ferret leaped on him. How he could actually enjoy the company of such an annoying creature, Diabella would never know.

Domax sighed in relief. "Then you had nothing to do with it..."

"No," Madesa replied, though she could still barely meet his eyes.

Even though they'd died miles upon miles away and their bodies were unrecoverable, it was decided between Mizuho, Kazuto, & Hinata that the memory of their clan hands be honored and that they be given graves. A large stone was carved for each, having their name on it. These stones were then shoved into the ground in a row to form headstones for the empty graves. The three stood by and looked at the stones for some time, thinking back fondly of the times they'd shared and shedding a few tears in the loss.

"What do we do now...?" Mizuho eventually spoke.

"Akatsuki's last wish was for us to try to find a way to rid the world of this evil." Kazuto chimed in.

"Though how would we even begin to know how?"

Hinata finally chimed in. "We could ask an Arcane dragon. They seem to know alot. Maybe they have a clue as to what this even is."

The weather conditions on the night of the incident were a little unfortunate. Just a few hours after it all happened, Regulus was preparing to take Auride and Avenriel home- Denebola and Lazulo would have to catch up later. It wasn't safe to stay here.

A violent storm had kicked up over the oceans between the Dragonhome and the Starfall Isles, making it dangerous to cross the ocean to get back home. Regulus wouldn't have had too much trouble, but neither Auride nor Avenriel were good fliers. The only other option was to walk, and that would mean going through the Scarred Wasteland. No one but Plague natives in their clan ever went there without Denebola at their side; in her absence, they weren't keen on crossing through that territory. Plus, Avenriel was uncomfortable about leaving until Lazulo was found. So, amid the beating rain and harsh wind, they set up a small camp on the edge of the Shattered Plain.

Night settled in. The two smaller dragons tucked themselves away beneath a small makeshift tent, made from a length of fabric stretched between two boulders. Regulus was caught out in the rain, but he wasn't too bothered.
"I wonder if Denebola has found Lazulo yet," Avenriel said, breaking a long, awkward silence between the three of them. "It must be hard getting out of there. Even now that the other clans are heading home, there's still a large crowd waiting."
Auride nodded solemnly. "They're all waiting to find their clan-mates..." He mumbled the words, as if he didn't want the others to hear them. It wasn't like Auride to be downhearted and he didn't want to come across as negative now. But they all knew, deep down, that a lot of those dragons were gone now. Dead. And Lazulo-
"They might have gone home already. Laz is a fine flier, after all." Avenriel continued, twitching his head feathers anxiously. "Denebola will keep him safe. I mean, she could keep us safe from anything. Heh, remember the Yeti incident?"
"Oh, I do, I do." Auride managed a chuckle. "And I'll never forget your face when you saw it either, Regulus."
A grumble came from deep within the giant Ridgeback's throat. He turned his head away, with a huff. That dark entity was gone by the time Denebola went out there... She'd be fine...

A hawk's cry pierced the darkening sky, which was unsual given that most of the animals had already fled for their safety. Winterspell tore his eyes away from the mist and craned his neck up to catch sight of a winged beast, half-bird and half-horse, circling around them. A hippogriff! He recognized the species immediately, as he often saw one in the accompaniment of...

Spite. It had to be Spite's familiar. Why else would it wander out so far on it's own, into dangerous territory? As soon as Winterspell realized this, the beast's cry suddenly seemed so much more mournful and pained. He pitied the poor thing; it was probably searching for its master.
The hippogriff, after circling around the two dragons one final time, dove down and flew off to the east, continuing its search. As soon as it left, a Spiral entered the scene. Spotting the two Skydancers, he swooped down to greet them. His scales were blue, contrasting his Plague eyes, and he looked fairly young.

"There you two are," he said as he landed, in a tone that was unusually calm and collected for a Spiral. "I was wondering if any of you even made it out alive. You are Winterspell and Teldryn?"

Winterspell and Teldryn exchanged confused looks, before the latter spoke cautiously, "Well, yes, but I don't believe we've met before?"

"No, we haven't." The Spiral bowed his head respectfully. "Cavalfer, son of Valafar, who I am sure you've at least heard of. I was sent to find out if any of you were still alive, and to escort the survivors back to the clan." He glanced at the horizon in the direction of where Spite's familiar flew off to. "Judging from Morkrul's cries, I can't imagine that Spite is as fortunate as you are, but I believe he may actually be alive somehow."

Teldryn snorted. "News travels fast, doesn't it?"

"The Wasteland isn't too far from here. One of the scouts saw the trouble and -"

"Yes, yes, and they sent a lone dragon to help us because they didn't want to waste their valuable soldiers on finding two unimportant dragons, or even the commander."

"Actually, there's a fleet coming up behind me that was sent to find Spite and -"

"That's amazing. Spectacular. I'm truly touched to know that Spite has such caring friends. Can we leave now?"

Cavalfer frowned and looked at Winterspell, who was quietly listening to the conversation. In response, Winterspell shrugged and said, "I think I agree with him, actually. I came back to find Spite, but right now I'd do anything for a nice, comfy bed to lie in."

The Spiral nodded slowly. "I understand. You must be shaken up from what happened. Very well, we'll leave immediately then." He uncoiled his long body and turned away from them. "We'll have to stick to the ground, though. There's a great storm looming on the horizon."

Teldryn sighed. "As if my day couldn't get any better."

With little other plan in mind, the three set out for the Starfall Isles to speak with the Arcane dragons in hopes of gaining information. The journey was rather a long one from the Tangled Wood with it taking some time. Not knowing much of what to talk about and still in their own sorrow, they traveled West in silence towards the Arcane domain.

"We have to stop this..." Thymus said aloud, coming out of his musings. The group had made it back to the clan to happy reunions with their friends and mates. But he knew the happy reunions couldn't go on forever. "We have to find out who's behind this and stop it," he repeated, turning to Domax and his mate, the head of their clan, Zolla.

"But it's over and done with," Domax said, eager to be rid of the horrors they'd seen.

"Is it?" Diabella asked, joining them.

Domax turned to her. "Of course. We haven't seen any sign of it since the meeting."

Diabella shook her head. "That doesn't mean it's over."

"She's right, Domax," Madesa added. "Who knows what's happening beyond these trees."

"And how long will it be before even here in our sanctuary we feel the darkness descend?" Thymus said, revealing what was truly on his mind.

Domax thought for awhile, then nodded. "You're right..." He glanced to Zolla, and Thymus saw the sadness in his eyes. He hated to leave her. Still, he turned back, cleared his throat, and spoke with a strong voice. "But what do we do?"

"We spy," Diabella said.

Thymus nodded his agreement. "The most obvious party behind this are the Beastclans, so I say we catch them in the act!"

"Not a certain Flight?" Zolla asked.

Diabella shrugged. "Perhaps." She shook her head. "We certainly shouldn't rule it out."

"So what? We spy on Beastclans and Flights? That's a lot of ground to cover," Thymus said, a bit unsure of the notion that a Flight would be behind it. "And with the current state of things, I'd hate to split up."

Domax nodded. "I agree. We stick together. And it shall be the four of us who were at the conference, plus Madesa. I refuse to put the clan at risk by leaving no one behind to defend it, and we'll be much less suspicious with a smaller group. Besides, we know the most about what happened. Someone go rouse Potok. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

"Where are we going?" Madesa asked.

"Back to Dragonhome," said Domax, determination in his voice. There was no missing the sad suspense that settled over the group at the words.

Some considerable time after the group began the uneventful journey home, during which a light rainstorm passed over them, a flock of dragons suddenly soared overhead in a V-shaped pattern. Teldryn, who'd been in the clan far longer than Winterspell (and also got out a lot more), could recognize a few of their clanmates in the fleet. They were on their way to find Spite, whether he was still a living dragon or an unrecognizable pile of ash.

A drop of rain suddenly hit Teldryn in the eye. Scowling, he turned his head from the sky and looked forwards to see... nobody. Where had Winterspell, who he'd been speaking to only a few moments ago, gone? And where was Cavelfar, or was it Cavalfer, or whatever his name was? Teldryn briefly scoured the area and pawed at the ground anxiously, much like a nervous herd animal would, before calling out their names experimentally. No reply came.

His frown deepening even further by the second, Teldryn slumped his shoulders and continued walking. He must have been staring at the sky for quite some time if the other two had already escaped his sights. Luckily, he had his compass, so he could still manage to find his way back to the clan on his own. Teldryn dug into one of the satchels slung over his shoulder, grumbling as the rainstorm continued to grow even more intense. He stopped and sat on his haunches, defeated, when he could not find what he needed. 'I left it at home, didn't I? I deserve every bit of this.'

Drawing a deep breath, Teldryn staggered to his feet and trudged onwards. He was nearing the edge of the Shattered Plain, and surely Winterspell and Cavalfer would be waiting for him there, right? He could only hope so, as the denizens of the Scarred Wasteland aren't exactly renowned for their friendliness. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice when he accidentally took a step too far... and then he tumbled down a cliff, shrieking indignantly and making a spectacular landing in some fabric that someone stretched out between two rocks. Teldryn sighed in relief before burying his face into the fabric, groaning. "Oh, have mercy on me, sweet Arcanist. I just want to go home!"



"Do you really think he'll find us soon?" asked Winterspell.

He and Cavalfer had been sitting for quite some time now, in an abandoned Longneck tent they'd found at the border of the Plague lands. They didn't know when they lost Teldryn, but Cavalfer had the idea of staying in place and hoping that he'd come around soon. So they'd waited. And waited. But there was still no sign of the Skydancer.

Cavalfer peered outside the tent. The rain was beating down hard now, so he was beginning to have doubts that his plan would work at all. Shaking his head, he turned back to Winterspell and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think he'll show up anytime soon. We'll just have to carry on."

Winterspell narrowed his eyes. "I'm not abandoning Teldryn. I already did that to Spite, and now he's..."

"We don't know what happened to Spite yet. Teldryn can handle himself just fine, he'll manage."

The Skydancer mage started to protest, but suddenly he caught a glimpse of a dragon in the distance. Three dragons, as a matter of fact, and judging by their shapes (they all looked to be the same breed), none of them could possibly be Teldryn. Driven by curiosity, Winterspell wandered out of the tent and into the rain, hoping to catch their attention.

Auride, Regulus and Avenriel were woken up by the heavy thumping of a large dragon coming towards them. They were glad when they looked up to see Denebola striding towards them with Lazulo at her feet. Avenriel let out a sigh of relief, trotting towards the smaller Skydancer and greezing him with a friendly headbutt.

---

They didn't get back home until the evening of the next day, by which time the storm had almost completely died down. Denebola lead them through the edge of the Wandering Contagion, and a few Shattered Serpents aside, they met no trouble. As soon as they got back to their home in the Starfall Isles- an elegant, silver-laced building with a tall tower peering over the treetops of the Starwood Strand- they did what they'd always done: throwing themselves back into their study, and distancing their minds from what had happened.

Their clan had never been involved in conflict. They acted as if it didn't exist, hidden inside their little bubble of security in the tower. Lazulo practiced his wind magic, talking it through with Avenriel just like he'd done talking to Sezareth in the Dragonhome- so he could pretend he hadn't been coated in the dust of dead dragons. Auride took out his books and his gemstones and carried on researching their magical properties like he always had done. Everything was back to normal.

Except it wasn't. The five dragons who'd been to the Dragonhome knew, in the back of their minds, that they weren't okay. The things they'd seen could never leave their minds. There was an unsettled air in the tower nowadays, since they'd warned the other dragons about what they'd seen. Every night, Auride saw Polaris creeping up to her telescope and gazing out at the sky for hours on end, as if she was keeping watch. And normally, she was the most distant from the world's affairs in the entire clan.

Diabella tried to shoo away the annoying creature that clamored around her feet, nearly tripping her every few steps. Though Domax had said only Madesa was coming in addition to the four of them who'd been at the conference, once Potok was roused and told of the plan, he'd refused to leave his ferret behind. At least his was useful. The swift lumen she'd unintentionally bonded with was just a nuisance, as evidenced by the fact it continued to race about annoyingly, never realizing it was in the way. "Go on - SHOO!" She shouted.

"Quiet!" Domax suddenly hissed. Diabella stopped in her tracks. It wasn't like Domax to be so forceful. "Listen," he whispered, and she did.

After a few moments, she shook her head. "I don't hear anything.

"I heard a scream..." Domax explained, still listening.

Diabella listened again. Thymus was soon hovering beside her head, listening intently. "I hear... some sort of fabric rustling..."

Then a voice floated to them, a bit muffled from the obvious distance. "Oh, have mercy on me, sweet Arcanist. I just want to go home!"

"Come on!" Domax whispered urgently, and the group headed off quickly, yet quietly, toward the voice.

They soon spied a cliff, and crept up to the edge of it. Looking down, they saw a Skydancer, his face buried in a piece of fabric stretched between two rocks. It was obvious he'd fallen down the cliff, and he was lucky the fabric was there to catch his fall. Diabella glanced behind her. It seemed the Skydancer was heading out of Dragonhome. Perhaps he'd been at the conference.

"What do we do?" Thymus's voice drew her from her thoughts.

"We wait," Domax replied. "We watch."

Diabella turned her gaze back to the Skydancer. He seemed quite distraught.