Enjoy!For those who want it, here it is on FF.net and dA:
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Summary: Curiosity and fear, night and day. Against all probability, a tiny star falls in love with the darkness of night.
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1. Nightfall
# Concurrent Skies - Cynder
She sees it shining gold and bright against the deep colors of her realm, a star come to earth. It arouses her curiosity. This speck of gold was there at the forge, hovering near the purple dragon. Thinking back, she suspects it must have been there all along, too small and brilliant in the daylight for her to see. Cynder stoops, ripping through the air in silence.
Were her ears not so attuned to the sound, she might have missed his scream of abject terror. But the shrill cries of fear are one of her pleasures in life and she relishes this one as she has all the others.
A dragonfly. How peculiar and strange. What is he doing with a dragon? Moreover, how has such a fragile creature survived the perils of her domain and those other insignificant places she has conquered?
Very interesting.
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2. Starlight
# Concurrent Skies - Sparx
"Evil? Monstrous? Big? Sexy? Oops, did I say that?"
Fear makes one say funny things.
He tries to cover it, make a joke. Sparx rarely means what he says, after all. Mother told him as much and he tells it to himself now, just this once. Fortunately, Spyro and Ignitus are far too busy to really notice what he's just said. Still, in case they did hear, it's been clarified for all now that he doesn't mean it.
Really.
One says many strange things when terror is involved. Funny, peculiar things. Worst of all, the truth.
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3. 3. Guide
# Convexity - Cynder
Death is expected. Finding herself suddenly alive is not.
She hangs in the air, strange claws holding her. It feels like she's flying but she's far too weak to move her own wings. Wind roars in her ears and a voice, vaguely familiar, shouts in triumph over her head. Odd that the small purple dragon has the strength to carry her when she is so much larger...isn't she?
It doesn't matter. Cynder thinks she may die still, or perhaps that death is not what she thought it would be. Convexity itself is dying, being dragged into the spirit world she has so recently vacated. The wind rips at her frail body and she doesn't know if she's going forward or back into the void.
Moaning, she opens her eyes and there it is: her gold star. She doesn't remember what significance it has, only that it is familiar and its warm glow is a comfort. Whimsically, she thinks she could be following, the light guiding her out of darkness. It's a silly thing to think but she allows herself this luxury, just the once.
'If this is the last thing I see,' she decides, 'it's good enough.'
Sliding into an uncertain darkness, she feels content. Gold dances behind her closed eyes before everything fades.
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4. Shadow
# Temple - Sparx
At first, he wonders why he is the first to wake. Dragons are supposed to be stronger than dragonflies, after all. Maybe it's his smallness that allows him to recover so quickly. Maybe Spyro needs more sleep to recover from the use of all his bizarre new powers. Maybe Cynder...
Cynder!
His eyes grow wide as he sees her, curled in the shadows, her coloring making her almost invisible. She's so very small now, almost harmless-looking. He doesn't trust that assessment at all given recent events and he narrows his eyes, focusing on her, to make sure she doesn't do anything nasty. At least, that's what he tells himself.
Time passes and still he watches. His mind wanders over the past few days and he sternly tells himself that she's wicked and her small stature hasn't changed anything. Really, he doesn't have a chance.
When she wakes the only thing that changes is her vivid green eyes appearing in the darkness. Their gazes meet and he sees many things he didn't expect to see, least of all a faint, almost friendly smile for him. His vigilance lapses and he's about to speak but Spyro moans faintly and the moment is gone.
Cynder rises slowly, graceful even in her exhaustion, and slinks into the shadows which she resembles. Sparx stares at the spot where she vanished for a long time.
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