Legend of Zelda, Spyro the Dragon 1. Prologue

Prologue

"Hmm, how peculiar."

An ancient turquoise beast was standing before an old and worn book, which was levitating ominously before him; its ruffled pages open at what appeared to be some sort of complex diagram with notes scrawled in almost every available space on the page. The strange creature continued to muse over his notes, his head slowly tilting to the left. It had been a while since he had tried to decipher the diagrams true meaning, and he was constantly referring back to his own notes, and in some cases trying to understand exactly what he had been going on about at the time before advancing in his thoughts. He soon found himself thinking in cycles. Slightly frustrated, the creature jerked his head in the direction of a dusty old bookshelf, causing the book to glide obediently into its assigned place amongst the masses of books.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to truly grasp that symbol's elusive meaning," the ancient scholar signed, his deep voice reverberating through his cavern like home. "I suppose it's no more than a trivial matter these days." Releasing yet another sigh, he slowly made his way towards the entrance of his stone sanctuary, muttering a small incantation in his wake. The stone doors sluggishly shifted to the side, allowing him to pass through them into the outside world.

The strange creature took in long, deep lung-fulls of the cool crisp air, allowing the smell of sea-salt to fill his nostrils. He continued to do this for several minutes, allowing the fresh air to clear and refocus his mind. Once satisfied, he spread out his wings, preparing for flight, examining them as he did so. They were considerably lighter in colour compared to the rest of his body, and the edges were beginning to resemble an old, torn piece of fabric. "One quick flight couldn't hurt," the creature mused aloud. With a few quick steps to gather speed and a single flap of his leathery wings, he was airborne for the first time in what felt like years.

There wasn't really a sky over the White Isle. Well, not directly over it at least, since the isle was literally lying on the bottom of the ocean. It was a curious sight, seeing the surface of the water above the isle, rather than alongside it where it's supposed to be. The creature flew up to the barrier that kept the water from cascading down onto his home, his light-grey mane and dark blue cape flowing behind him. He gingerly stretched out a paw; each finger tipped with a razor sharp talon, and allowed it to skim across the water beside him. He looked down upon his island home, and thought of how unimaginative the name 'White Isle' was. Sure, the place was made up of a strange, white-coloured stone, and was covered in ice in a few sparse spots, giving its white appearance and name. Despite how fitting it was, he still found it bland all the same. The flight was uneventful, which was probably a good thing since an unexpected visitor to the isle could only be bad news.

After a bit of a rough landing, he decided to return to his studies and gaze into his vision pool. As the ancient beast lumbered back inside, an anxious feeling washed over him. He already knew that the dark armies of this world had been defeated, their only activity since was a string of revolts and uprisings, some of which were still being fought. The fate of this world was safe for now, but that didn't ease his worries. After all, his concerns weren't related to this world, rather one that he had accidentally stumbled across while allowing his mind to wander instead of focusing on his vision pool; contradicting the whole point of the exercise. From what the pool had shown him, it appeared that this foreign land was beginning to lapse into his…

He had been watching over it ever since.

He motioned for a large green book to float over. It followed its master's orders without hesitation, and glided gracefully over to the turquoise beast. "I need to read over that prophecy," he muttered. "I need to make sure that what I've been seeing lately is supposed to be happening… I pray to the Spirits…"

He flicked the untarnished pages of the book, only stopping once or twice to make sure he hadn't misread anything. He soon found himself staring at an elaborate image depicting two warriors locked in a fierce battle; the first one being a young man dressed in green, wielding a sword and shield, his blue eyes ablaze and a snarl of determination upon his face. The other was a much bigger man with flaming red hair and a skin tone that reminded the creature of a corpse, his sword held high with the fierce desire to destroy the young man who had dared cross his path. His face was contorted with pure malice, a look one thought that could only be seen within the eyes of Malefor…

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes from the image and flicked a few pages back. The image showed what was to happen, and it wasn't exactly what he was he was looking for, albeit it was intriguing. He already knew the fate of the two warriors. Soon enough, he found himself staring at another image, this one differing greatly from the first. It depicted a young girl with long blonde hair and fair skin. Her elaborate gown was spotless and arranged neatly around her. She was sitting on a wooden bench in what appeared to be some sort of private garden, a lavish one at that, which bore a beautiful variety of flora of all shapes and sizes. The girl's eyes were closed, and held to her lips was an odd purple instrument. The scholar stared at the girl as she played her silent melody, wandering why this scene was so important. He brushed the thought aside, and proceeded to read the text beneath it:

_"Unite within this domain sacred stones three,_

_Each in their place, thus creating the key._

_Behind these doors remains a world unseen,_

_Only to be witnessed by a soul found clean._

_Acquire the holy sound of light,_

_Remain resistant to the temptations of night."  
_

Yet again, wrong page. He was getting closer though. He'd seen the picture and text before, but never really understood how the two were related. After minutes of searching, the creature found the passage he'd been looking for. He read over it several times, making sure he didn't miss anything. Much to his dismay, he couldn't find the answers he was searching for, and he dismissed the book. The turquoise beast made his way over to his vision pool, worry beginning to well up in his throat.

"What I've been seeing lately is completely out of line… these events… they've all been turning for the worst… the boy should've awaken them by now… someone… or something… is interfering." At that last thought, he snorted in mild disbelief. "Who on earth would want to cross paths with that horrid man, let alone work with him? Surely, nobody in their right mind would even consider such a thought… Well, with the exception of the bulblins of course…"

He finally made his way to the vision pool and sat down. He peered at its peculiar surface. It was like liquid silver, and it gave off a soft, ominous glow. Upon further inspection of the pool's surface, he saw numerous pictures flitter across the surface; a lush green valley, the two celestial bodies of this world, and a grand city…

The turquoise scholar focused his mind on a certain world, and soon enough the previous pictures vanished and were replaced by a rather sad, yet frightening sight. Two riders dressed in black attire were dashing across the parched field at an almost abnormal speed, their horse's tail whipping wildly behind them. The first rider was a young man with hair coloured a dirty blonde, unsheathing a sword with his left hand. The second was a woman, about the same age and with similar hair colour as her companion, was slightly doubled over. She had one hand clutched over a gash across the side of her waist in a vain attempt to stop the blood, while the other was clinging to the man's waist for dear life. The creature moved closer to the pool's surface, curious as to what events had led up to this scene. He soon caught movement on the outskirts of the pool, and saw many other riders following them in hot pursuit. These riders weren't human though, and the beasts they were riding certainly weren't horses. Rather comically, the scholar smacked his head into the pool's silver contents, allowing himself to watch the scene from a better perspective.

Right before his very eyes, perhaps Hyrule's worst fears were being realized…

* * *

A/N: Alright... There's the prologue finished! Just to avoid confusion, it's based on the Ocarina of Time world, which I just kinda shoved the bulblins into along with the LoS world. Not much to say really... I just hope it's alright. Please review and tell me what you think!  
Also, I don't own any of the Legend of Zelda or Spyro characters, worlds, concepts, etc.


	2. Run

Chapter 1- Run

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Sonya couldn't take it anymore. It was far too unnatural for her, and it was beginning to take its toll. She could feel it ebbing away at her sanity, slowly prying away all forms of her self-restraint. She knew that she would go berserk any moment now if she had to remain with the deafening silence hanging over her like this. If it weren't for the fact that an entire hoard of bulblins was readying an ambush just a stone's throw away from her hiding spot, she would've screamed right about now.

The young farm girl has situated herself amongst some recently deceased bushes, which still had the majority of its brown withered leaves clinging to their brittle branches. Her brown and blonde streaked hair combined with her tan skin served as the perfect camouflage amongst her dead surroundings. Ever since Ganondorf had taken over Hyrule seven years ago, the land had basically been dying. The once lush and mighty green fields of Hyrule had been reduced to nothing more than parched expanses that were completely devoid of life. The only thing that seemed to flourish now, (other than the occasional weed) was death. Sonya remained motionless; one false move could easily shift the bulblins' attention from the road to her, and with this many bulblins around it would unquestionably be the end of the young farm girl.

_Man my neck's sore,_ Sonya thought. She'd been sitting in the same position for what seemed like eons; crouched down low with her neck slightly craned so she could see what the bulblins were up to, her only companion being the constant silence. On top of it all, she'd also balanced herself precariously on the balls of her feet, which probably wasn't the best position for someone with her level of balance, but it was vital if she wished to continue spying. Sonya felt the soles of her feet and backs of her legs begin to tingle, most likely from the lack of blood. She attempted to relieve the uncomfortable sensation by shifting her weight onto her right foot, but to no avail. The tingle in her right leg had intensified into a mild pain, and her left burned as the much needed blood rushed back into her leg. Without thinking, she gasped in pain. Realizing her mistake, she whipped her hands up to her mouth, causing her to lose her balance and tumble back into the dried bushes behind the astonished child.

It was more than enough to get the bulblins' attention. A handful of the pig-like monsters began to make their way over to investigate the abrupt commotion. Sonya's heart leapt up into her throat. She knew they would find her in a matter of moments. She had to do something, but what? She hadn't brought her quarterstaff with her, and even if she did she would easily be overcome by a single one of those horrid beasts. She could try running, but the surrounding areas were fairly open, making her easy and noticeable prey for a bulblin archer. Her mind racing and heart pounding, the farm girl was at loss. She could now hear the heavy breathing of the bulblins that were slowly closing in. She could now see the tops of their grotesque heads. All she could do now was close her eyes and pray to the Three Goddesses for a miracle…

Out of the blue, a high pitch whistle sounded, and the atmosphere suddenly intensified. Most bulblins suddenly became eager, while others appeared a little on edge. Sonya could hear them all returning to their previous positions. It took her quite a few moments to fully absorb the previous events and realize that she was still alive, and then several more for her to actually sit up. Weak with relief, the girl prayed a silent thanks to the Goddesses, stood up and ran. She didn't care whether or not they saw her now. They'd probably return to the bushes once they were done with their business anyway, so it was best to run while their attention was elsewhere. 

* * *

"Face it, we're lost,"

Two riders were making their way across one of the many parched plains of Hyrule, bickering as they did so. It had been a few days since they had escaped the Temple of Time, and Ganondorf's forces had been trailing them ever since. Well, it really wasn't much of an escape, considering neither of the riders knew exactly what had happened. All that could be remembered was Ganondorf's evil laugh, a blinding blue flash of light, the twisted man's scream of fury, and then somehow winding up right next to where their horse, Epona, was tethered. The event was slightly disturbing, but it worked to their advantage, none the less.

"We're not lost Zelda," the other rider replied bitterly. "I know exactly where we are."

"Oh, and where is that?"

"Well…"

"Well? Come on Link, you said you knew where we were, so please enlighten me. Where are we?"

The rider named Link winced slightly at the question. He knew that Zelda was right, they were indeed lost, and he hadn't the slightest clue as to where they were. They were supposed to be going to seek refuge in the Lost Woods so they could think of a new plan. Unfortunately, the constant attacks and the lack of the sun (thanks to the ceaseless cloud cover) to guide them had rendered the two completely disorientated, leaving the pair in a rather bitter mood.

"I… I don't know". Link sighed in defeat, bracing himself for the whole 'I-told-you-we-should've-stopped-for-directions' lecture.

To his surprise (and relief), Zelda didn't comment. She just sat there and looked into the distance, motionless. Neither of the riders spoke for a several minutes, although Link was tempted numerous times to try strike up a conversation with his companion. He thought better of it, and decided it'd be best to leave Zelda to her own thoughts for now. She looked exhausted, and Link didn't want to disturb the little peace and quiet she had left.

They rode on for at least another hour, the only noise being the rhythmic sound of Epona's hooves hitting the ground in that same, repetitive cycle. Not even the wind seemed to stir.

It wasn't long before another sound dared to defy the surrounding silence. It was a low rumble, yet it definitely wasn't thunder. No, this sound was no where near as deep and it most certainly didn't come from the bleak skies above. Rather, it originated from the dark and neglected depths of someone's empty stomach.

Link's stomach.

Zelda laughed at the sudden outburst, while Link sat there, rather dumbstruck, unsure that his stomach had actually produced such a loud and crude noise. Zelda, who was sitting in front of Link, gently took the reins from his hands.

"How about we stop for something to eat?" she asked, pulling up on the reins as she did so.

"What about the bulblins?" Link asked, a worried tone glazing his question. As hungry as he was, he didn't want to risk putting Zelda's life on the line just so he could grab a quick snack.

His blonde companion seemed to have expected Link's inquiry. She handed the reins back to Link and closed her eyes. Gathering all of the energy she had left, she began to focus her thoughts. Once Zelda had opened her eyes, she began to see things from a whole new perspective.

Everything was blue, but her vision had sharpened to match that of a dragon, who have been said to be able to trace the path of a lone beetle across Death Mountain with nothing more than their eyes. Everything she saw seemed to emit waves of energy, which took on the appearance of light. She quickly examined herself and her companion, getting an idea of how bright a living creature would appear to her in this current state. They were both close to white in colour, and the Triforce of Courage that Link bore upon his left hand shone a brilliant gold, the lower right of the three triangles being the brightest. Curious, Zelda decided to take a quick glance at her own piece of the sacred relic. Her Triforce of Wisdom appeared similar; the only difference was that the bottom left shone the brightest, not the right. She then scanned the surrounding horizon, searching for any signs of life. To her relief, she found none, and returned to her former state.

To Link, all of this had happened within the span of a few seconds. The only abnormalities he had witnessed were Zelda's Triforce begin to glow, and when she had turned to him her bright blue eyes seemed to glow ominously. Not long after this, his exhausted companion back slumped into him, completely drained from her efforts.

"Nothing," Zelda breathed, not being able to say much else.

Link slowed his loyal steed to a halt, quickly dismounted, and then proceeded to help Zelda off the chestnut mare before gravity got the better of her. After gently placing her down, he went over to Epona's saddle bag and hurriedly searched for their provisions, his hunger getting the better of him. He was well aware that he could just retrieve some from his bottomless pouch, but both Zelda and he had agreed that the food in there was solely for emergencies. It wasn't long before Link's hands clasped around two small loaves of bread and some berries. The blonde youth sat down next to his companion and handed her share of the basic meal, who accepted it weakly. Link wolfed down his portion in record time, his stomach thanking him graciously for remembering its existence. Zelda on the hand, ate slower, rather amused by how much food her companion seemed to be able to stuff into his mouth at once. Link seemed to notice this, and smiled sheepishly before continuing his onslaught.

Zelda began to feel a little guilty at making fun of her friend. He had been rationing a while before he had met up with her a the Temple of Time, and being number one on Ganondorf's hit list certainly hadn't allowed him much time for rest, let alone meals. At this thought, she noticed the dark circles beneath his brilliant blue eyes.

"It's not that bad, really," Link said, seeming to read her thoughts. "I've been through worse, trust me."

Zelda nodded solemnly in reply. They ate the rest of their food in silence, which was only disturbed once or twice when Link decided to pull out his Fairy ocarina and play a few tunes to brighten the mood.

* * *

As Link prepared to mount Epona, he was given a firm tug on the back of his shirt, forcing him to abandon the task.

"Hood," Zelda said simply, holding out a black piece of fabric.

Link scrutinized the fabric with disdain. First of all, he didn't particularly like the colour black, and much preferred the forest green that was present in his usual garb. Secondly, the hood tended to get in his face while riding and it certainly didn't assist him when fighting off any attackers. Last of all, it would complete his blackened disguise, as he now wore clothing that was similar in style to what Zelda had worn when she was disguised as Sheik. With the aid of the hood, he would be completely garbed in the colour that his mortal enemy wore with pride.

"Here," Zelda said as she fastened the hood's clasp around Link's neck, and then pulled it up over his head.

"Thanks," Link muttered. She then proceeded to put on her own her, smiling as she pulled it down over her face.

"Mind if I sit behind you this time?" Zelda asked as Link mounted his horse. Link gave a curt nod in reply, still a little peeved about having to wear the hood.

They rode on for about another hour, chatting every now and then to pass the time. The ride had been fairly uneventful, but the scenery had changed. They were now making their way through the remnants of a recently deceased forest. It was fairly open, which made navigating a lot easier then they had guessed, and the discovery of an old trail had shifted the pair's mood from rather bored to ecstatic.

"By the Three Goddesses… finally… a guide!" Link exclaimed, overjoyed that they no longer had to wonder aimlessly until they wound up only Nayru knew where. Zelda hugged Link in delight, causing him to blush at the sudden show of affection.

"It has to lead somewhere!" Zelda said, her voice teeming with excitement.

"Only one way to find out," Link stated, and with a quick flick of the reins, they were off.

However, during their celebrations, neither Link nor Zelda picked up the high pitched whistle that had sounded shortly before their departure…

* * *

It wasn't long before their targets were in sight. They were riding upon a chestnut mare, just as their master had said. Both Hylian, one female and the other male, he could tell by their voices. Both of them looked relatively harmless, but his master had told him to bring his best men if he wished to successfully intercept them. He wanted them both, the Hero of Time and Princess of Destiny, alive.

The leading bulblin raised his right hand, signaling for his archers to ready their bows and poison tipped arrows. The poison wouldn't kill them; just merely paralyze and knock them out long enough for his men to bind them properly. The only risk in the plan was hitting any vital organs or having either of them bleed to death, which their master would have their necks for.

The bulblin grinned evilly, waiting for the right moment to strike…

With a quick flick of his wrist, the first volley of arrows was fired.

"Get down!"

The two companions barely had time to react, and if Link hadn't spotted a glint of silver out of the corner of his eye they would've been skewered where they sat. Link summoned the power of Nayru's Love, which formed a crystalline shield around the small party. The arrows bounced off the shield like rain off a window pane, leaving them unscathed. Epona reared up, taken off guard by the assault. Link urged the startled Epona forward, barely escaping another small volley. Zelda managed to catch a glimpse of their attackers before Link veered Epona to the right in an attempt to get out of firing range.

Bulblin riders.

Her beliefs where proved true as the sound of thundering hooves began to trail them, accompanied by grunts and battle cries of the bulblins and their bulbos. It wasn't long before they had reappeared around the corner from which they had come, brandishing weapons of all shapes and sizes. The effects of their long and tiresome journey were beginning to show as the bulblins began to close the gap between them.

"Come on Epona, don't give up, just a little more,"

Link's words of encouragement didn't go unnoticed, and Epona pushed herself even harder.

The bulbos exceeded the mare's speed, bringing their rider's up to her flanks. Link unsheathed the Master Sword, the legendary Blade of Evil's Bane, the weapon that had saved his hide on so many accounts, knowing that he would not be able to run for much longer. The bulbos brought their masters alongside Link, one of them slashing Zelda across the side as it advanced. Being defenseless while clinging to her friend's waist, the princess could do no more than receive the blow. She cried out in pain, and that was all the motivation Link needed to start his retaliation.

With a loud grunt, the blonde youth released a vicious kick at the bulblin to his right, knocking it clean off its bulbos, and then swung his sword at a bulblin to his left, inflicting a fatal wound across its chest. Seizing his chance, Link struck at the bulbos' legs, causing it to fall, bringing its rider and a few of his comrades with it. Another bulbos pulled up on his right and swung its rusty blade at the young warrior. Link parried, and then drove his sword deep into the monster's neck, black blood now staining the once untarnished blade. The youth continued to strike down his enemies, but every time one fell, another would pull up alongside him to take its place. _Curse it_, Link thought as he smacked yet another bulblin across the face with the side of his sword, knocking off its steed. Another bulblin pulled up alongside him, this one wielding a rusty serrated sword. The young hero thrust his blade at the creature's neck, but to his surprise it ducked, evading his attack. Link continued to slash at him with his sword, but each of his assaults were either parried or evaded by his new opponent. The bulblin shrieked, and then began to pull back. Link turned his head to the left to see what the bulblins were up to, and soon found that half of the hoard was following suite. He turned to the right, and saw why they had pulled back. Just a short distance away, a bulblin rider had aligned himself with the youth, a brown crossbow trained at his chest. Link couldn't do anything as the bulblin pulled the trigger, launching the bolt at its target with deadly accuracy.

The bolt struck him in his right shoulder, driving itself deep into his flesh. Pain seared across Link's chest, causing him to cry out, unable to do much to try and soothe the wound. He brought his left hand, which was still holding the Master Sword, up to the protrusion in a feeble attempt stop the blood that was now gushing from the wound.

The bulblins advanced on them yet again, this time in greater numbers. Zelda watched in horror as the monsters surrounded her and Link, who was now slightly doubled over from the blow he'd taken.

"Zelda, take the reins!"

She complied, allowing her blood to run freely from the gash in her side. Link was the one who needed more help now, not her.

Nodding thanks to his companion, he held his right hand over the wound and began to slash at the monsters with his sword, depending on Zelda to keep him and Epona steady. Pain continued to course through his veins as he swung his sword, and with each movement came another wave of pain. Link's movements began to get a little groggy and awkward, which Zelda picked up on almost instantly. Praying that it wasn't due to blood loss, the princess continued to steer Epona and keep her friend upright.

Link's vision was getting blurry, and he seemed to be on the verge of unconsciousness. The dazed youth could no longer move his legs, and the sensation was slowly creeping up into his torso. He felt his grip loosen on his sword, but he couldn't do anything to stop it from slipping from his hand. He simply couldn't move it. Luckily, Zelda had seen the sword slip from Link's hand and caught it by the hilt. The young hero slumped onto Epona's neck, nearly driving the bolt even further into his chest. He could no longer fight, and in the corner of his mind he knew that the bolt had been tipped. He allowed himself to drift into unconsciousness, watching everything turn to black.

The last things he saw were a blue flash, a flurry of scales and the ground rushing towards him…

* * *

A/N: Yay! Chapter 1 is finished! (Is very tired and it is quite late at the moment, but I was determined to get this up ASAP.) Yes, this chapter is a lot longer than the prologue, but I wanted to try keep these events together, and it's all going to be posted sooner or later, so I just did it together (was on a roll this arvo). This is also the first fight scene that I've written, so I hope that turned out all right. Please, tell me what you think, I'd love to get some feed back!

P.S. Thanks spyrolink and Skywing Flame for the reviews! You guys are awesome!

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own any of the LoZ or LoS worlds, concepts, characters, etc.**  
I only own Sonya, the Hylian in the beginning of the chapter, for she is my OC.


	3. Tear

**Chapter 2- Tear  
**

* * *

They were gone.

The leading bulblin screamed out in rage as he hurled his sword at a near by tree. The serrated blade sunk deep into its wooden flesh, but the sight of it did nothing except enrage its master even more. He glared daggers at the lifeless trunk, mentally replacing it with the carcass of the creature that had just appeared out of nowhere and rescued their prey. Through his mind's eye he saw the creature's mangled body, its scaly hide stained with the beast's own thick red blood. His sword was embedded into its underbelly, blood still oozing from the wound and forming a sickening pool where it landed…

"What are your orders?"

Reluctantly, the commanding bulblin redirected his thoughts from his bloody fantasy to the questioning comrade, back to reality.

"Do a head count. If you find anyone who can't recover from their wounds, put them out of their misery."

"What of the Hylians? Do we go after them?"

"… No."

The creature stood there for a moment, unsure of what he had just heard. It wasn't like his commander to give up so easily, especially on a task this important. The questioning bulblin gave a curt nod, accepting his leader's orders, and then hurried off to fulfill them.

"The bittersweet side effects ought to keep them busy anyway…" The commanding bulblin said, more to himself than anyone else.

_Wretched creature… how dare it interfere with our affairs! Our master will be furious when he finds out about this, and he doesn't usually let these sorts of deeds go unpunished._ A malicious smile made its way to the bulblin leader's face. _All in due course…_

_

* * *

_

Ever so slowly, Zelda's eyes began to open.

The princess groaned, starting to wish that she'd hadn't regained consciousness in such a bright place. Her vision was blurry, and her brilliant blue eyes stung as the light relentlessly flooded into them. She could barely make out her surroundings; at the moment everything seemed to be either a white or grey blob.

Zelda waited, allowing her eyes to finally grow accustomed to her new surroundings, blinking every now and then to try speed up the process. As her eyesight continued to sharpen at its sluggish pace, the rest of her senses began to resume functioning. She felt cold… cold and stiff. It didn't take long for Zelda's sense of direction to figure out that she was lying on her side, on what felt like a thick sheet of ice. Her suspicions were confirmed with a quick downward glance through her now slightly blurred vision. She caught her reflection in its glossy surface, and it disturbed her somewhat. Her face was covered in smears of dirt, and beads of sweat had frozen themselves onto her forehead. She also noticed a small cut running across her cheekbone…

One by one, memories of the previous events trickled back into Zelda's mind, each one being no more than a mere snapshot of the occurrence. The trail, an ambush, the attacking bulblins, a crossbow bolt, Link's cry of pain…

The realization seemed to slap Zelda harshly across the face. She could feel the panic welling up inside her, threatening to take over the little sanity she had just regained. She shot up, only to be welcomed by a sharp pain that seared up her side. A wave of nausea washed over the princess as the blood rushed from her head, leaving her rather light-headed and temporarily blinded as specks of light danced across her vision. While recovering from her head spin, the princess ran her hand over the previously forgotten and now semi-frozen gash in her side. Thankfully, the frozen blood was only around the edges of the wound, and had staunched most of the bleeding. Zelda was suddenly glad that she'd been lying on her unscathed side…

The princess managed to stand, ignoring the pain and stiffness that was now searing through her body. She had to find Link, before it's too late…

Ironically, it didn't take long for Zelda to locate her blonde companion. His black attire against the white surroundings made the youth stand out like a sore thumb. The princess rushed over to his side, praying that she wasn't too late. Link simply lay there on his back, in a rather sprawled out fashion with a tranquil look on his face. The crossbow bolt was still embedded in Link's shoulder, towering over its victim in triumph. The panic within Zelda surged as she realized that he wasn't moving. She sat down beside her unconscious friend, a look of worry and fear upon her porcelain features. She gingerly positioned her hand over his mouth, praying that she would feel his warm breath brush against her skin. She waited patiently, each moment seeming to take an eternity to pass. If anything was to happen to him, she would never be able to forgive herself…

To her complete and utter relief, Zelda felt a warm rush of air brush against her poised hand. As great as it was to discover that her friend was alive, the princess was still extremely troubled. His breath had been far too light, and she realized that if she hadn't been paying attention she would've missed it.

Without a second thought, Zelda reached across Link and shoved her hand into his bottomless pouch, being careful of the bolt as she did so.

_Agh, where is it… come on… spare shield… agh! Oh great, now I'm bleeding...stupid sword… wait…yes! There it i- wait, no, that's his hookshot… come on… where for the love Nayru is that stupid red potion!_

As that last thought crossed her mind, Zelda felt the cool, smooth texture of glass brush against her hand. She pulled the vial into view, grumbling in annoyance as she examined the red concoction in her bloody hand. She hastily uncorked it, and then gently tilted Link's head back. Praying that it wouldn't go down the wrong hole, she slowly poured the bitter liquid down his throat. Once the vial was empty, Zelda placed the vial back into Link's pouch and waited. The lack of choking and hacking told her that her companion hadn't accidentally inhaled any of the potion, and it didn't take long before Link began to stir.

He groaned, not being able to accomplish much else. The young hero could feel the pain from the embedded bolt tugging at his conscious, trying to pull him back into the sea of darkness from which he had just emerged. Link would've preferred to return to his numb state, but he knew that it was far too late for that. Someone… or something… had awoken him, and a mixture of curiosity and mild fear forced his tired eyes open. Ignoring the incredible pounding in his head, the youth opened his eyes, and for the next few moments Link saw nothing but white. As his vision returned to normal, Link could make out a blonde and porcelain blur hanging over him, and his worries were instantly put to rest. He continued to watch the blur take its true form, his eyes lingering on the brilliant blue ones that watched him so diligently from above. He could see the worry and fear in them being washed away by the waves of relief, and her grimy features seemed to reflect every ounce of it.

"Zelda…" he croaked.

The princess beamed at her conscious friend, mentally praying a million thanks to the Goddesses for his awakening. She gently brushed his dirty blonde fringe from his eyes, which were now blinking and squinting furiously, trying to fight off the same light that had attacked Zelda's eyes no more than a few minutes ago. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment, but her vision dragged her reluctant conscious back down to his shoulder, where the crossbow bolt was still embedded. The wound had just begun to scab over around the edges, and blood was still oozing around the base of the protrusion. It wasn't a pretty sight, and the fact that it was Link's flesh that it had been forced into didn't make Zelda feel any better. A low moan escaped from his lips, followed shortly by a sharp intake of breath. The blonde princess watched her friend's face contort in pain as his senses reminded him of his wound, and she knew that she would feel unnecessarily guilty for what she was about to do…

Zelda quickly glanced at her surroundings. If she was going to do this, she would have to retrieve something fairly strong for Link to bite down on (to help bare with the pain and to make sure that he wouldn't bite his tongue off or anything). She soon found a small dead tree just a few paces off, a small amount of snow resting on the thickest off branches. In a rather ungraceful fashion, Zelda got to her feet and made her way to the dead plant, nearly tripping as she moved from the ice onto the newly discovered snow. She struggled to pull the select branch from the wooden carcass, and upon its removal the princess mentally deemed it more than strong enough to withstand the jaw power of a white wolfos. She made her way back to her wounded companion, who was watching her with a weary yet knowing look on his face. With a quick flick of her wrist, a small, sharp Sheikah dagger was shifted from her sleeve to her hand, the surrounding light glinting off its honed edge. The Hylian princess had seen Impa, her guardian, do this to one of the palace's guard when he was hit with an arrow in a training accident. It was a fairly easy method on her account, but it was going to be anything but that for Link. No matter how much this was going to hurt, it had to be done. _Besides,_ Zelda thought to herself. _This is a bulblin bolt. Knowing them it's probably got some sort of horrible poison on it..._ She knelt down next to Link, removed his hood and began to clean the wound.

Link winced as Zelda dabbed at the wound with his hood, trying to remove as much of the dirt and ice as possible. Occasionally he would release a soft yelp, but he tried to keep a brave face for Zelda, which (just by looking at the expression on her face) he could tell that she was letting guilt seep into her mind with every pain-induced action or sound he made. After what seemed like an eternity, she placed the hood back down and snapped the tail off the bolt. Link couldn't help but yelp as the embedded bolt shifted in his already aching torso, but he kept silent as she brought her Sheikah dagger up to his shoulder. Link watched the princess' face grimace as she calculated where to make the incisions, and was suddenly very glad that she bore the Triforce of Wisdom. She finally decided on the location, and with a steady hand she made two small incisions in Link's chest, who grimaced slightly at the blade's sting. He could feel his blood begin to ooze from the cuts, which were located at the base of the bolt, forming a line over where the barbed bolt head should be. Zelda brought up the stick that she had retrieved earlier and placed it in his hand, a grim and worried look adorning her face. Link placed the wooden bit in his mouth with a shaky hand. He then twisted the stick around in his mouth in mock examination, "hmm"-ing and "uh"-ing, making sure the stick was 'good' enough for him. Zelda half-heartedly laughed at his little performance, which she had successfully perceived as an attempt to cheer her up.

"Stop it, Link. You're not making this any easier,"

Link just rolled his eyes in response (which with his relatively dry eyes was a far more difficult task than he had first thought).

She gently placed her left hand next to the bolt, and with her right she took a firm grip on the protrusion. "You ready?"

Link sighed and shut his eyes, bracing himself for the agony that was about to tear through his torso…

A few moments later, a muffled, blood-curdling scream tore through dominant silence that engulfed the icy fortress.

* * *

The turquoise beast winced at the heart-wrenching sound. It reverberated across the isle, reminding him of his inability to help the two Hylians he had just saved. He knew he should've helped them, but he also knew it would be far wiser not to. For now he had to remain secret, remain hidden. The dark armies were regrouping, and if word of his existence were to reach the wrong ears, he would be incapable of leaving the White Isle, let alone getting the two Hylians back to their own realm. As long as they stayed together, he was sure they would be fine. _At least Cyril has the remedies…_

The ancient turquoise cursed at the wound one of the bulblins had inflicted during his escape, and then took off into the skies. Regret and remorse entered his mind as Dante's Freezer began to shrink behind him, the two Hylians along with it…

_May our ancestors guide us…_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** Okay, first of all, a thousand apologies for the extreme delay in this chapter being posted. I've had everything from computer viruses and the complete and utter break down of my laptop stopping me from getting this up (other reasons include laptop fan dying, reformating, dancing, school/homework, work, the passing of my god mother who died of Friedreicks Ataxia (Rest in peace Aunty Kelly), pokemon black, numerous writer blocks, procastination and relatives coming to stay 8D)  
Hope this chapter turned out alright. I was going to have other events occur in the chapter, but I thought it might be better for the future chapters. Please read and review, I would love to get some feed back!  
Also, the 'tear' used in the title is the ripping one, not the crying one (you could interpret it either way, but I intended it to be the rip meaning)  
**Lord Lithos Maitreya:** D'aw, shucks! Thank you so much, and I will be sure to ask for help if I need it! :D  
**spyrolink: **Thanks! Phew, I was kinda worried I had left something out (just hopes that I wasn't rambling too much XD)  
**Skywing Flame:** Yay! Thanks so much (feels all happy inside X3)! I'm glad it's turning out how you said, it's great! Haha, I shall, although I will admit that our lessons seem to drag out lately, and keeping the teacher in my rather small attention span is becoming increasingly difficult xD Yays! (He'd better be proud...*shifty eyes*). Btw, I love your reviews, they are so enlightening! Thank you

**I do not own any of the LoZ or LoS characters, concepts, etc.**


	4. Unpleasant Encounters

**A/N:** Hey guys! I've finally got the next chapter up! As usual, sorry it took so long, but the original ending I'd intended for the chapter didn't quite sit with me well, if you get what I mean. Evidently, I've changed it (along with story layout, which I'll fix the other chapters when I get the chance), and to be completely honest, I think this one turned out better than I'd thought it would. I'm still not 100% sure about this chapter though...  
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it, and I'd love to hear some feed back!

Thanks for being so patient!

**I do not own any of the Legend of Spyro or Legend of Zelda characters, concepts, etc.**

* * *

Chapter 3- Unpleasant Encounters

* * *

It was distant, but he tensed up, nevertheless.

Cyril brought himself into a low crouch, a small growl escaping his throat. This was the fourth time he had been disturbed today, and quite frankly he was getting sick of it. After all, when one comes to a place as quiet and desolate as this they would expect to be left in peace, undisturbed. But no, fate was far too cruel for that. The apes, which were now no more than remnants the dark master's army, still roamed the fortress' walls, their absurd natures still alive and kicking. Cyril had tried to avoid them in order to steer clear of any uprisings, but recently they had been trying his patience, which was now growing dangerously thin. Lately he had just been scaring them off, merely bluffing his attacks, but now he was no more than a hair's-breadth away from tearing the whole lot of them to shreds. It seemed their stupidity knew no bounds.

The peeved ice dragon brought himself up to his full height, and then proceeded to make his way out of the makeshift cave he had carved out of a thick wall of ice. He had originally planned to move straight into the actual fortress, but as fate would have it, the apes were still there. He peered outside of his icy den, half expecting to see an ape screaming its head off at an old stump or some other sort of inanimate object. However, there wasn't an ape in sight, which baffled the dragon somewhat. He thought for a moment, considering what could've made the noise. It definitely wasn't an ape, for he would've spotted it, even if it had tried to flee before he had emerged. It didn't sound like a dreadwing either, their cries were more of a shriek, and they would've been accompanied by the sound of their leathery wings. The spector ghouls also knew better than to disturb him…

His curiosity was getting the better of him.

With a sigh, he unfurled his wings and took off. The icy cold wind rushed through his pale blue scales as Cyril searched the frozen fortress from above. Surprisingly, the ice dragon couldn't see any of the apes about, and that the fortress was a lot quieter in general. It was like something had scared them off…

Anger flared within Cyril at the thought. After all, he had been the one who they had been tormenting for the past week or so, hence he had every right to be the first to rid the place off their presence…

Another sound derailed his train of thought, and his sour mood seeped back into his conscious. It was similar to the one he had previously heard; only it wasn't as drawn out and sounded a lot closer. Cyril proceeded to land on a select patch of snow, getting ready to confront whatever had disturbed his peace. The dragon trudged through the snow, fangs bared and talons ready to strike at the unknown creature. A familiar sound that he resented with every fibre of his being reached Cyril's ears, and despite that it wasn't the sound he was seeking, his previously controlled anger suddenly burst into fury.

He crouched low behind a small outcrop of rocks and watched the apes with disdain, their constant chattering irritating his ears. He continued to watch them warily. They appeared to be attacking or provoking something, and by the looks of the bloody wounds that stained their snow white fur, Cyril guessed the apes were coming off second best. Another one of those foreign sounds reached his ears, only it was of a higher pitch. The dragon soon registered it as a yelp of pain, but was taken aback at the string of extremely colourful curses and insults that were launched at the attackers shortly afterwards.

It was now becoming obvious that the apes were gaining the upper hand, and Cyril decided now was a good time to intervene.

_Sweet, sweet revenge…_

The ice dragon launched itself at the mass of battling apes, releasing a ferocious roar that sounded reminiscent of a metal sheet being torn in two. The terrifying sound easily diverted the apes' attention from their battered victim to the charging dragon, who was now snarling viciously at them. A small portion of the ape hoard fled, but the majority stood their ground, assuming their battle stances. Cyril swung a taloned paw at the closest ape, sending it flying a good distance away towards another rocky outcrop. The enraged dragon heard the sickening sound of bones snapping as he swirled around to strike another ape with his tail, making sure its pointed crest had struck its target. It was a hit, but not long after he had struck the ape, one of its comrades latched onto his tail, sinking its fangs into Cyril's scaly hide. He growled, but more out of annoyance than pain, and then flung the primitive pest into the remaining apes. A few of them dodged, but the majority was sent sprawling onto the snow. One of the lucky apes leapt at him, releasing a shrill battle cry as it flew through the air. Cyril focused, and an icy aura encircled one of his front paws. He could feel the magic coursing through his veins, concentrating in his readying talons. All he had to do was wait…

A split second later, Cyril was on his hind legs with the said paw drawn back. The ape had no time to react as the ice dragon's talons tore through the flesh across his chest, and a chilling sensation engulfed its body. It fell to the ground with a dull thud, its body completely encased in a thick layer of ice. The beast turned to the apes lying on the snow, who were now watching him with a look of sheer terror on their faces. He laughed inwardly at their expressions, gloating in triumph.

However, his victory was short lived. Cyril reared up as he felt two sets for claws digging into his back, tearing at his flesh. The dragon released yet another roar as the previously forgotten ape clawed its way up his back, occasionally biting at his neck with its tiny fangs. Cyril shook himself violently from side-to-side in attempt to get the potentially dangerous ape off his back, but all was in vain. The ape's claws simply sliced through the flesh beneath his scaly hide, and it continued to make its way up the back of his neck. Inspired, another two apes joined their comrade, one latching onto his tail and the other onto his shoulder. Panic surged within Cyril as the first ape was now on the back of his head and had tightly coiled its arms around his neck, digging its claws into the soft, exposed flesh.

The dragon was finding it hard to breathe. He could feel the other two apes on his back now, and his own blood trickling down his neck. He was starting to feel rather light-headed, and his vision was getting blurry around the edges. The dragon continued to struggle, but his efforts only encouraged the apes. The first ape gave a sharp squeeze at his neck, and Cyril reared up slightly to try to relieve the pressure. A single thought crossed his mind. He knew that there was a good chance that it would fail, but right now he was desperate, and there was no other way out of his dilemma.

Mustering the last of his strength, he jumped up and shifted so that he would land on his back. The apes were taken aback at the sudden movement, but realization had struck them too late as the ice dragon crashed on top of them, dorsal spines driven deep into their flesh.

The grip around Cyril's neck was released, and a ragged breath was hastily drawn in, relieving his deprived lungs. He could feel no movement whatsoever beneath him, but the warm, sickening blood of his victims was seeping onto his scales. He brought himself onto all fours, and thankfully the carcasses didn't remain caught on his dorsal spines, which would've both embarrassed and disgusted him. He looked over to where the on looking apes were, but to his surprise and relief they had left. Sighing, the bloody dragon looked back at the apes would had just fallen at his hand. There was a total of five; the one he'd thrown at the beginning of the battle (which Cyril had guessed had taken a strong blow to the head), the ape who had been frozen with his ice attack, and the three on his back, which were now lying in a bloody heap next to him.

Cyril's mind began to function properly again, and he was reminded why he'd nearly wound up getting himself killed by a hoard of apes in the first place. He glanced at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. Despite this, a small smile crept to his scaly blue face as he made his way over to a small patch of colour and ice a short distance off a small, dead tree. Scarlet blood tarnished the ice's glossy surface, and on the snow was a trail stained with the vibrant red substance. The carcasses of three apes (which Cyril had no recollection of defeating himself) also littered the scene. He lowered his head and gave the alien blood a quick sniff, writing its scent into his memory. The dragon knew that doing so was unnecessary, as the tracks and blood were still fresh, but this scent was foreign to him. If whatever at the end of this trail was unfriendly, he'd have a pretty good way of tracking any of its kin and then take care of them as well.

Cyril began to follow the trail, trying to keep the horrid sensation of ape blood trickling down his sides hidden in the deepest corners of his mind.

* * *

Zelda fell to her knees, completely drained from her efforts.

She felt the weight of a barely conscious Link roll off her shoulders, and the snow crunched as he hit the ground. Zelda shifted over to her friend's side, a deadly concoction of anger and fear welling up inside her. She hadn't even been able to stop the bleeding properly before the ambush. She quickly removed her hood and applied pressure to the gaping hole in Link's shoulder, where the bolt had once been embedded in his flesh. Thanks to yet another attack, her brave companion's life was left to hang in the balance, and at the moment all she could do was try to staunch the profuse bleeding and pray to the Goddesses that death would spare him.

Keeping the pressure applied to Link's shoulder, Zelda allowed her mind to wander back to their most previous battle. Of course, neither of them had expected the monsters (as the princess had now deemed them, considering their actions and the fact that she hadn't recognized them). They were bipedal, their bodies covered in thick white fur and armor made of either metal or leather, the latter being the most common on these creatures. Their faces were elongated, and their primitive, beady eyes seemed to hold a subtle sense of malice. At first their approached seemed to have a more inquisitive nature, which obviously changed when she'd drawn her knife. Her gesture of warning was misinterpreted, however, and the creatures quickly engaged her in combat.

She mentally shuddered at their fighting style, instantly connecting it with those of other monsters she had faced as Sheik. Despite the fact that they wielded no weapon or had any proper armor, they were still quite lethal to those who weren't equipped or trained. They were swift, and their movements were unpredictable and fuelled by bloodlust, which left them quite vulnerable on many occasions. Defeating them would've been a breeze, if it weren't for the fact that there were so many of them.

_And then that thing came…_

Now, that would've been a formidable foe.

The sound of its unearthly roar echoed in her mind, and through her mind's eye, she could see its icy glare staring back at her, unbridled rage visible within its piercing blue eyes. Fangs and talons glistened in the snow, ready and eager to spill the blood of their first victims. Its lean and muscular body was tense, set to pounce with unnatural ferocity and speed. It was a fearsome sight to behold, and its overall demeanor chilled her to the core.

Pushing its haunting image out of her mind, Zelda continued to recount the events. Not long after its appearance, she'd managed to shrug off the last of the monsters (others had turned their attention to their new opponent) and made her way over to Link…

Now that Zelda thought about it, it seemed that he wasn't as close to the tree as she'd remembered…

Using only her eyes, she quickly scanned the rest of his body, checking to see if any of those evil creatures had inflicted anymore wounds to his already battered body. She hadn't been able to be right by his side during the entire fight, and the thought scared her.

Her anger must've been quite obvious, since Link – still with his slightly wavering consciousness - had noticed.

"Zelda, they're just flesh wounds. It's hardly anything to-"

"No Link, it's not," she snapped, cutting him off.

"Zelda, those would hea-"

"I don't care! Link, those things attacked you while you were injured and defenseless! _De - fence - less!_ How could you - how could I - possibly just shrug it off like that? First they had the nerve to attack us like that, and after that they didn't even have the _decency_ to leave you be and just fight me instead!"

"Zelda, please keep you-"

"No Link, I won't!" she retorted, cutting him off again. Zelda was already beyond that point. She knew she was being quite rude and unreasonable, but all of the anger and frustration she'd felt lately due to being constantly on the run (_and not to mention lost,_ she added bitterly,) needed to be vented out. One way, or another.

Behind the princess' enraged demeanor, she also felt a sharp pang of guilt. Guilt for not being able to defend her friend properly, the one who had strived with every fibre of his being to help her, to protect her. _And this is how I repay him…_

"What they did was low and cowardly," the princess continued, her voice slightly lowering its previous volume. "How dare they. How _dare_ they!"

"Seriously Zel, you need to-"

"No, I already told you! Damn it Link, you have no idea!"

"Zelda please-"

Zelda opened her mouth to cut him off, but something in his pleading, hushed voice put her off. She met his gaze, and all she saw in the azure pools that stared back was fear. Fear that he had not bothered to conceal.

"Perhaps you should listen to your friend more often,"

Neither of the two dared to move. There was a hushed hostility in the voice that seemed to speak for itself.

The stranger chuckled throatily, its unnaturally cold breath causing the hairs on the back of Zelda's neck to stand on end.

"My my, now what have we here?"


	5. Bargaining

**A/N: **Hi guys! Sorry about the really long wait, had a bit of a writer's block and exams (I'll admit, I also procastinated a bit with this chapter). Not much to say really, just hope you like it! Reviews would be great thanks, I'd love to get some feed back!

Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda or Legend of Spyro

* * *

Chapter 4 - Bargaining

* * *

"My my, now what have we here?"

The stranger's icy cold breath caressed the back of Zelda's neck, causing the hairs to stand on end. She could feel the little colour she had left draining from her face, and soon found herself holding her breath. Both the princess and her companion remained still, not daring to move, as if their next would be their last. She could feel the stranger hanging over her, their eyes boring into her.

"Hm hm. Didn't you know it's rude not to answer someone when they're talking to you?"

They both remained silent. Zelda quickly glanced down at Link, his presence reassuring her somewhat, despite his injuries. He didn't meet her gaze however. The hero glowered at the stranger, his normally soft azure gaze now hardened and piercing, laced with venom. The princess would've found him rather intimidating, if it weren't for how vulnerable he was right now…

The stranger sighed; rather disappointed at the lack of responses he was getting from these foreign creatures. After all, he was hoping that he might get have a little fun with these two - life on Dante's Freezer did get a little dull and exasperating when you were constantly surrounded by imbeciles. Whatever these things were, they seemed to half a brain. Perhaps toying with them for a bit would prove entertaining.

Well, it would at least be somewhat amusing if that wounded thing would stop looking at him like it was about to bite his head off.

The stranger heaved another sigh before nonchalantly placing a bony, fleshless hand upon the princess' shoulder.

"You know, we don't often get very many visitors around these parts, least the likes of you two. Nor do we see creatures such as yourselves."

The stranger looked back down at the two creatures, a wicked smirk playing upon his skeletal face. He could feel one of the creature's shoulder tensed in fear beneath his hand, and the venomous look the wounded thing was giving him had increased in its ferocity tenfold. He observed the creature more closely, and could soon sense every single emotion emanating from its crippled form. Regret, helplessness, fear and a need to protect were aimed at its companion, but anger and hatred were directed at him. This amused him somewhat, but soon pieced together the emotions to learn something else about the wounded creature.

He leaned in, putting his face dangerously close to the first creature's ear, and gently caressed the side of its face. He chuckled throatily, making sure his breath brushed against the flesh of its ear.

"Nor do we see anything as pretty as yourself, my dear."

He watched his hand run along its cheekbone for a moment, feeling the creature's breath hitch before looking back at the wounded creature.

He smirked inwardly.

He had struck a nerve.

Hard.

"Let. Her. Go."

The stranger smirked. "Oh look, it actually talks,"

The creature glowered at him, waiting for him to comply with his demand.

"What if I don't want to? Perhaps I'll keep her. She seems a lot nicer than you anyway."

"I said let her go, stalfos."

A perplexed look crossed his face. "What do you mean, 'stalfos'?"

"That's what you are… isn't it?"

The stranger sighed in disappointment. "Perhaps you aren't as intelligent as I thought you were. Any fool would know what I am, and as far as I'm concerned there are no such things as 'stalfos'."

It was the wounded creature's turn to look confused. He knew that it wasn't a true stalfos, for, oddly enough, it was just a hovering, skeletal torso. He'd thought it was just some sort of uncommon variant of the said creature, but obviously he was wrong.

"Oh well, I suppose you can pay for your ignorance with your friend's life. And please dearest, put the dagger away before you hurt yourself."

He glanced down at the female creature, and sure enough, there was a honed dagger clutched within her poised hand, ready to be plunged into his skull.

Not that it would help the two, anyway. It takes a bit more than that to kill a scepter ghoul.

The wounded creature cursed under his breath and then continued to give him his death stare. He could sense futility radiating for him now (he'd figured the wounded one was male due to the anatomy differences between him and his companion and that he'd said 'her' whilst referring to his friend). He was already beginning to break, but the skeletal torso was sure that as long as the girl lived he'd remain steadfast.

He heard the girl muttering something to herself, and he felt the atmosphere change rapidly. The emotions and auras he could feel the two creatures emitting were suddenly drowned out by this new, unknown force. He could feel it gathering within her lithe form, pulsing some sort of energy. He didn't know what it was, but judging by the painful sensations his bony form were receiving from the energy, he could tell that it was of a nature that was meant to destroy the very essence that he'd been created from.

The skeletal torso drifted back several paces, his once mischievous mood souring into a subtle rage. He could see the male creature smirking at him and shifting to get up, a black piece of cloth held to his gory wound. The female stood, but kept her back to him. He could see a triangular insignia glowing brightly on the back of her right hand.

"Perhaps I'm not the only that should listen others more often,"

Whatever holy magic she'd just launched at him, it had quite a bite to it.

The hovering monster hissed at the girl, his fleshless hand held to his now blackened and smoking collar bone. He'd never intended to physically harm these foreign creatures, let alone start a fight with them. The skeletal creature had already decided that after watching her battle those apes. Despite her apparent inexperience with battling with the moronic creatures, one could tell she was skilled in the field of combat, even without her magical abilities.

However, he could also tell that she was weakened. Summoning her light magic must've drained her somewhat, for her previous ferocity had been undermined by the spell. It looked as if she were struggling to remain upright.

Despite her weak state, the female creature shifted into a rather poor battle stance, ready to defend her wounded friend.

To the ghoul's relief and slight annoyance, a familiar, icy voice intervened.

"How about we break this up before someone gets hurt?"

The two creatures looked in the direction of the voice, and he could easily sense fear and recognition emitting from them.

The formidable ice dragon held his head high, peering down over his nose at the odd collection of creatures standing before him. The scepter ghoul was easily recognizable, but the other two were completely foreign. They both rank of the alien blood he'd been following, but it only took a quick glance to tell which of the two it belonged to.

The scaly creature glanced at the skeletal ghoul and growled. "Perhaps you should leave now, before I add to the injuries that have been inflicted upon you by your new acquaintance."

Cyril watched the fiend slink back into the shadows of the fortress, glowering as he did so. He didn't hold much against the ghouls, nor did they hold much against him, but they still knew who was boss, despite how much they resented the fact.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

The frankness and bluntness of his questions seemed to take the two aback. The female looked slightly offended but watched him warily. The wounded male eyed the dragon with suspicion, but he could see a hint of curiosity beneath his scrutinizing gaze.

"Why should we answer you? You bear the blood of your victims upon your own hide, so how is it that we can come to trust one such as yourself?" The male retorted.

Cyril felt rather embarrassed at the accusations. He spoke the truth, for the ice dragon was still covered in ape blood, and if the situation were to be reversed he would certainly feel the same way. There was no way he'd try to explain it though, for it would be a rather piteous sight for him to be making up excuses about spilt ape blood. Volteer would surely get a laugh out of it.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to be wandering about Dante's Freezer without a guide, or at least some proper protection?"

The question sounded more like an insult than anything, and the female immediately took offense.

"I'm sure we can take care of ourselves, thank you very much."

"Hmph. I beg to differ."

As vexed as she was by the dragon's arrogance and insults, Zelda knew he was right. They were lost and vulnerable, and it appeared that this proud beast might be the only way to get Link to safety.

"Well then, perhaps you could help us."

Cyril could still sense the resentment in her voice, but he could that she was asking for assistance whilst trying to keep her dignity. Both she and her companion were in pretty bad shape, and despite the ice dragon's pride, Cyril couldn't just leave them there to be attacked by another unearthly creature that roamed the fortress. He had to help, but first he wanted answers.

"Perhaps I could, but first I'd like you to answer my questions."

"Very well then, but only if you answer the same questions yourself, for our sake."

"In case you haven't noticed, you're not in the position to be bargaining."

"Nor are you. I'd bet fifty rupees that you wouldn't be so heartless as to simply leave us here."

Cyril had no idea what in the ancestor's names 'rupees' were, but she was right. He would feel guilty for weeks on end - it'd drive him towards insanity.

He saw the female smirk as she perceived his silent answer, and then proceeded to keep her end of the bargain, not bothering to hide their true identities.

"My name is Zelda, and this is my friend and guardian, Link. And as for why we're here… look, to be completely honest, we're not actually sure where 'here' even is."

"Lost, I presume?"

Zelda looked at him sheepishly, "I suppose you could say that…" Her attitude matured suddenly. "How about you keep up your end of the bargain before I elaborate."

"Very well then. I am Cyril, the dragon Guardian of Ice, and 'here', Dante's Freezer, is my dominion. I suspect you'll be needing some shelter from the cold?"

Zelda gave a curt nod. "It would be much appreciated, thank you."

She then proceeded to help Link get to his feet, who'd gone rather quiet during her negotiations with the dragon, who was now wiping the blood off his back on the snow.

"That was rather formal," Link said, his voice just under a whisper.

"Yeah, I guess. I suppose that's what happens when you spend your entire childhood surrounded by politicians and nobles," Zelda replied, as she supported her friend on her shoulder and led him towards the now clean ice dragon. "You feeling okay? You don't sound too good."

"Hm? Yeah, just bit light-headed and a little nausea, that's all."

"…You sure?"

"I'll be fine Zelda, I promise."

The princess laughed lightly. "You know Link, you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"And what makes you think that I can't look after myself?"

"That giant gaping hole in your shoulder, that's what."


	6. Nothing but Bad News

**A/N:** Hi guys! Well, here's the next chapter! It took me quite a while to decide what was going happen in this chapter, but I figured now would be a good time to switch over to Spyro's side of the story. I'm not getting off track or anything, this chapter will tie back in to Link and Zelda's side within the next chapter (which I'm halfway through writing now). Just to make things a little clearer, this story takes place a few years after Malefor's defeat, so naturally Spyro and Cynder have grown a bit (they kind of need to be a bit bigger for future events anyways).

Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chap, and reviews and feedback are much appreciated! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far (and now that I've found the reply button on the reviews page, I can actually respond 8D (let's just say I have my moments and leave it at that, okay ^^))

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Legend of Zelda or Legend of Spyro characters.**

* * *

Chapter 5 – Nothing but Bad News

* * *

The young dragon stared up at the sky as the rain poured down relentlessly from the stormy clouds above. It had been raining like that for almost a week now, and the sheer boredom it had caused was driving the young beast towards insanity.

Spyro sighed and looked upon the havoc that the rain had wrecked upon the Valley of Avalar. The river had risen a good meter or so now, and had reached halfway up the support beams that held up the docks outside the village. The once crystalline river looked as if someone had turned it upside down – the water had been turned a murky brown and debris floated on the polluted water's surface as it was carried towards the ocean. The waterfalls looked more like solid walls of mud rather than veils of water, and the bridges that allowed one passage to and from the smaller islands on the river were completely submerged, hidden by the muddy flood waters. The only thing that had changed for the better was the colour of the grass and leaves on the trees – vibrant shades of emerald green now adorned the plant life has the heavens continued to crash down from above.

Never before had Spyro seen Avalar like this, and as unusual as it was to him he had had enough of it. After all, he'd come out here to get some fresh air and spread his wings, not too be cooped up inside due to some outer influence. If he'd wanted to do that then he would've just stayed at Warfang and listened to the long and tedious meetings about revolts and uprisings all week. He was lucky that Hunter had allowed him to stay at his home (well, more like forced him to after he'd discovered the young dragon hiding in a cave) and Cynder agreed to cover for him whilst he was gone. She hated the meetings almost as much as he did, but thankfully her knowledge of the dark armies' ways usually shortened the meetings considerably. Nevertheless, Spyro often found the thought of scraping his forehead against a cheese-grater for an hour more appealing than sitting through those meetings.

Not that the rain was much better.

Spyro glanced down towards the village gate.

_Still no sign of Hunter…_

He'd been gone for quite some time now. The young dragon still had no clue why he'd gone out in this weather, let alone what he was doing. He'd heard him mumble something about checking on the messenger hawks, but as Spyro watched him leave the house, he'd seen the cheetah warrior walk in the opposite direction of the hawk roosts. As confused as he was, the young dragon paid no mind to it – Hunter could look after himself.

The rain began to ease up considerably, and soon the downpour had eased into a light drizzle. Spyro moved from his spot beside the window and went outside, despite how wet it was. If he didn't do something soon, boredom would surely claim his sanity.

The purple dragon leapt off the balcony and landed onto the soft, sloppy mud below, sinking into the ground somewhat. Unwittingly, he walked in the same direction that Hunter had gone, allowing his curiosity to lead him more than his mind. The dragon continued on, ignoring how he sunk into the ground with every step and the numerous puddles he walked through along the way. He soon found himself walking through the village gates. Tired of being locked up in the village for so long, Spyro shrugged off the possibility of getting rained on and took off.

The feel of the wind rushing through his scales and beneath his wings was refreshing for the young dragon, and although his wings were stiff from the lack of use, he flew with utmost grace. He loved the feeling of being in the air, defying gravity and having the freedom to go wherever he pleased. He was able to escape all of the stress and pressures that came with being a purple dragon. Sure, being powerful and destined for greatness sounded like a grand idea, but sometimes he envied those without all of that responsibility, and longed for simplicity in his life. As far as he was concerned, he'd done what the prophecies had asked of him and lived up to his reputation, so there really wasn't a need for everyone to keep pressuring him into politics and leadership. Right now he just wanted a break.

A hummed tune soon broke him out of his thoughts, and with a quick downward glance he confirmed its source.

Sitting on the rocks by the waters edge was an old grey cheetah, wearing a dull green hooded cloak, humming a foreign tune to himself whilst clinging to his staff. He swayed back and forth to its melody, his movements causing the light to glitter off the misty, pearl like orb that adorned the top of his staff. He didn't cease his tune as Spyro landed a distance away from him. The curious dragon wandered closer, trying to listen to the intriguing tune that the cheetah was so caught up in. He went even closer, as to hear the song over the sound of the river rushing past them.

The melody being hummed was like nothing Spyro had heard before. The notes constantly shifted from low to high, and although the tune was upbeat, it held a sense of sadness within its notes. It was a haunting melody, but soon the dragon had found himself captivated by it.

The humming was turned into words of an ancient dialect, and although the song continued to withhold its beauty and mystic charms, Spyro couldn't help but allow disappointment to seep into his heart. He couldn't understand the lyrics.

Deciding not to let his inability to understand the song's words get him down, Spyro made himself comfortable and continued to listen to the old cheetah's performance. He didn't have the nicest voice in the world, but he didn't seem to care. The cheetah continued his song, his mouth forming words that Spyro would never fully understand the meaning of, nor comprehend the importance of. The song began to slow, coming to a graceful end.

The cheetah faced Spyro, and with a mischievous smirk formed the final lines of the song, allowing the young dragon to hear its true meaning.

"…Play a song,  
Fast or slow,  
For then all of the realm will know,  
The Hero of Time has come."

Spyro sat simply sat there. Although the cheetah had only shared a morsel of the song's lyrics with him, a thousand thoughts had begun spinning through his mind. He had a million questions to ask, but before the young dragon could even open his mouth the cheetah cut him off.

"It's nice to see you again, young one,"

Spyro recognized the croaky hushed voice instantly. The hermit was certainly a long way from his usual spot, and the last time he spoke to him the old cheetah had brought him and Cynder nothing but bad news.

"What was that?" the dragon asked, unable to form any other words. "What was that song?"

Amused, the old hermit simply laughed. "That is for me to know, and for you to find out."

Spyro frowned at him, disappointed that the old cheetah wouldn't elaborate on the song's meaning. "Why don't you just tell me now, it'd be a lot easier for both of us."

"I'm afraid not, young one. The Ancestors have a few more surprises in store for you."

"What do you mean by that?" Spyro asked, caution and concern obvious in his voice.

"Exactly what I said: the Ancestors have a few more surprises in store for you."

Seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the subject, Spyro asked another one of the burning questions that he held in his mind.

"Who's the 'Hero of Time'?"

"As I said, that's for me to know, and for you to find out."

The hermit seemed rather amused at the frustration being displayed in the dragon's face, but decided to elaborate on his previous answer.

"Let's just say that fate can be cruel sometimes, young one, and that the tides of evil are rising yet again to swallow us up in an era of darkness. You may have saved this world before, but lightning never strikes the same place twice. You won't succeed this time if you bear this burden alone."

"So you're saying I can't do this myself?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, I managed to defeat Malefor with Cynder's help last time, so I should be okay, right?"

"I'm afraid not, young dragon. Even though her powers are great, she is not strong enough. Darkness has also touched her heart, and if she engages this new evil in combat, she'll surely be consumed by it."

"She's good now! She wouldn't allow herself to be consumed by it!"

"This evil is not like Malefor, young dragon. This evil posses powers that may even exceed your own abilities."

"But didn't the guardians say that my powers were limitless or something?"

"Yes, but you have not fully realized them yet. And even if you were to, then you would soon be corrupted by it, falling into the same trap that Malefor did."

"…Then how do I stop it?"

"You will find out soon enough."

The hermit looked over towards the village and smirked.

"It appears your friend I looking for you."

Sure enough, Hunter was walking out of the village gates, worry lacing his every feature.

"I'm afraid I must leave now. You might want to take this with you on your journey."

The cheetah reached inside his cloak and produced a small vial, filled with some kind of herb. Spyro accepted it, but why this old hermit thought he would need this on his 'journey' puzzled him.

"Trust me, you'll find a use for it."

Spyro nodded in reply, and the cheetah stood up.

"I'm afraid fate isn't quite done with you yet, Spyro."

And with that, he left.

* * *

"Where have you been?"

"For a quick flight, that's all," The dragon replied, shaking the mud off his paws before entering Hunter's cozy hut. It was fairly small, and only consisted of two rooms – one for sleeping and lounging around, and another for cooking. There was little furniture in the small building, but there was a homey feel to it that you could never get out of a more luxurious dwelling.

"You didn't bring any grublins back with you I hope."

"Nah, there wasn't anyone out in the valley anyway." Spyro replied, conveniently leaving out his meeting with the hermit. What the old cheetah had discussed with him was something the young dragon wanted to keep to himself for now. Hunter was already looking fairly stressed at the moment, so he figured it wouldn't be a good time to share the hermit's words with him.

"Well good, because we're leaving," Hunter said, running around the room, gathering supplies for their recently announced trip.

"What do you mean we're leaving?" the dragon asked, half-heartedly following the cheetah through the house.

"I got a letter from a certain friend of yours today. We're heading south, and as soon as Levant gets here we're leaving."

"Who's Levant?"

"The dragon who's going to fly me there, since you still only just scrape the bottom of my elbows." Hunter elaborated, his last comment being rather snide.

"Oh ha ha, very funny, Hunter. And for your information, I actually come up to your shoulders now," the young dragon boasted.

"Horns and crest don't count, Spyro."

"Fine then, below your shoulders. Is Cynder coming with us?"

Hunter slung his pack over his shoulder. "No, not this time. It's pretty urgent, so we can't wait for her. However, we're going to need to bring Meadow with us."

Spyro gave him a look, and before he could even form the words Hunter answered his unspoken question.

"The note didn't say why, it just said to bring him. Now could you please go get Meadow for me?"

Spyro nodded and left. It was rather odd for Hunter to be like this – all flustered and stressed out. It worried him. Whatever that was in that letter couldn't have been good.

It didn't take long for Spyro to locate Meadow. He was near his hut, crouched over the pitiful remains that were once his herb garden, trying to salvage any surviving plants before the rain returned in its stormy wrath. Helping him was his new apprentice, Tharros, a young cheetah with a love of nature and a drive to protect all that he cherished. He only came up to Spyro's chin, and he had the strangest green sheen to his grey coat. Hunter had promised to give the young cheetah archery lessons some time ago, but so far he'd failed to keep that promise. Tharros knew that Hunter had been rather busy lately, but nobody could miss the sadness and disappointment in the cheetah's face when he was told some other time.

The young cheetah's ears flicked as he heard the dragon approach. He greeted him with a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling in the little daylight that seeped through the clouds.

"Hi Spyro! What's up?"

Upon hearing his apprentice's words, Meadow stood and faced the young dragon. He was covered in mud, and the weary look on his face proved that he'd been outside for some time now.

"Hi! Umm, could I have a quick word with you please Meadow, in private?"

The older cheetah looked slightly confused at first, but complied anyway.

"Tharros, could you please take those herbs back to my hut and wait for me there?"

The young cheetah nodded, and obediently took the herbs back to his mentor's home without question. As young as he was, Tharros understood that some of the things that went on around the valley only involved certain people, and that prying ears weren't always appreciated. If it didn't concern him, then he stayed out of it.

As soon as his apprentice was out of earshot, Meadow spoke.

"What is it that you need? I'm afraid I'm a little low on herbs right now, so if that's what you're looking for…" he trailed off, unsure of what else to say.

"No, it's all right. I actually came here for you."

Meadow gave the purple dragon a quizzical look. "Whatever for?"

"I'm not sure exactly, but one of the guardians needs your help, so I'm guessing it's got something to do with herbs…I honestly have no clue, Hunter didn't say why."

"Okay then," Meadow replied, sounding reluctant. "If it's the guardians that require my assistance, then I shall comply. Just give me a few minutes to gather my things and explain to Tharros what's going on. I'll meet you at the village gates?"

Despite the question sounding more like a statement, Spyro nodded and headed to the agreed location.

* * *

It had only taken about fifteen minutes for everyone to get ready. Hunter and Meadow had now taken their places upon Levant's back, tying down their bags so they wouldn't lose them during the upcoming journey. The large dragon didn't speak, and his scales were the most unusual shade of blue. Unlike the majority of other dragons he'd met (the ones that constantly badgered him about his previous adventures and possible political future) Levant seemed to be more of the silent type, which Spyro found a good thing, since now he was rather absorbed in his own thoughts. The dragon replayed his meeting with the hermit several times, trying to extract any hidden meanings within his words. It took him a few moments to realize that Hunter was speaking to him.

"You looked a little stressed Spyro, what's the matter?"

The young dragon looked up at him, and decided against telling him what was really occupying his mind. "Nothing, I'm just worried about what's going on down south, that's all."

The cheetah bought it, and with a few quick words with Levant, they took off.

Despite the fact that he was flying, Spyro felt uneasy. He could not escape the old hermit's words, and soon he felt burdened by his warnings of an upcoming evil. As the purple dragon, he was supposed to stop it, but the old hermit said he couldn't do it alone. He'd asked him if his closest friend and most powerful ally, Cynder, could help, but was told she'd be consumed if she tried to fight it. The hermit said that he would need someone's help to defeat the evil, but gave no clue as to who it was. Even as his wings took him higher into the air, Spyro could feel himself being weighed down by the grim events that were sure to come.

As he flew on, the hermit's last words echoed in his mind.

_I'm afraid fate isn't quite done with you yet, Spyro…_


	7. One's True Nature

**A/N:** Hi guys! As usual, sorry for the wait, I got attacked by assignments again. Anyways, the opening scene I've got here with the Bulbin is supposed to be foreshadowing in the previous chapter, so once I go back and edit all of the chapters (to correct typos and such) I'll move it to the previous chapter. Thanks to everybody who reviewed the last chapter as well, especially Lord Lithos Maitreya, who has kindly agreed to beta this story and help me sort out some plot details!

Anyway, I hope you like the chap and I'd love to get some feedback! Thoughts, opinions, anything really. I was astounded at the response I recieved last time, and I'd love to hear what you have to say about this chap!

**I do not own the Legend of Zelda and Spyro franchises**

* * *

Chapter 6 – One's True Nature

* * *

The Bulbin leader sat with his back against the tree, staring idly at the bleak horizon. He could hear the sounds of his troops behind him, clattering their weapons and tending to the wounded. Occasionally, the muffled squeal of one of his dying kin reached his ears as he was put out of his misery, accompanied by the somewhat sickening sound of metal being forced into flesh. It saddened him to see them pass, but there was no time for long and tedious recuperation. They would have to report back soon, and they would already be facing dire consequences for failing to capturing the two Hylians.

He fiddled with the bloody arrow in his hand, gently tracing his finger along the honed metal surface of its tip. To his bitter disappointment, the unfortunate soul who had been hit with this arrow wasn't one of the Hylians, but one of his own troops due to a misfire. He'd pulled it out himself, but not before the poison had entered his bloodstream. Like so many others, he had to be killed, even though he could recover if he was given the time.

Despite his depressing thoughts, a small smile came to his face. He glanced down at the arrow, and then back towards the horizon, twilight beginning to stain its contours with vibrant shades of blood red. His smile grew: through his eyes, the sky seemed to symbolize the spilling of the great Hero's blood.

Another wave of glee washed over the Bulbin as he mentally calculated the number of hours since their ambush.

"The Bittersweet's toxins ought to be revealing their true nature right about now…"

* * *

The princess stood behind her friend as he heaved, holding his dirty blonde bangs out of his face. Despite the cold, his face felt like it was on fire, and she could feel beads of sweat trickle down his face – the sure signs of a prevalent fever. His breathing had become shallow and hoarse, causing his frame to quiver violently with each breath.

Needless to say, Link had already broken his promise.

Whatever his ailment was, it had taken its time to reveal itself. After coming to an agreement with the foreign Hylians, Cyril had made a swift flight back to his icy dwelling, being sure to avoid the curious gazes of the dark army as he flew. The trip had been a quick one, and shortly after their arrival Zelda was already treating Link's wounds and Cyril had managed to make a half-decent mattress out of some rags and blankets he'd stolen from the fortress. The ice dragon watched Zelda bandage her friend's wounds silently, but couldn't help but question when the girl produced a vial of red liquid from a satchel around her waist. Smiling, she'd introduced the concoction simply as a 'red potion'. It was a healing remedy commonly used by travelers from her home land that possessed great medicinal qualities from a large variety of herbs, making it one of the more expensive medicines to buy. After a short argument and a grimace, Link downed the potion as quickly as he possibly could, trying to keep the bright red liquid well away from his taste buds (which, judging by the look on his face afterwards, he'd failed to do miserably). He was fine after that, mostly sleeping to allow his body to recover for a handful of hours. It wasn't until about half an hour ago that his condition had changed drastically.

Link heaved again, his body shuddering violently at the force of his stomach trying to empty itself. Zelda swallowed, trying to stop the bile from welling up in her own throat as her friend wrenched again. She knew nothing would come of it – his stomach had lost its contents long ago.

His breathing slowed – a sure sign that the horrid convulsions had stopped for now. She sat down next to her friend and allowed him to slump into her, exhausted and drained by whatever sickness had befallen him. His breath was hoarse, and despite the fact that he was burning up the princess could feel him shivering.

Zelda peered at the mouth of the ice cave and saw Cyril examining a piece of blood stained cloth. The ice dragon didn't have much in the way of experience when it came to medicine, but he was sure that whatever sickness had befallen him wasn't caused by the weather.

"Anything yet?" the princess asked, a small flicker of hope present in her voice.

Sighing, Cyril abandoned the piece of cloth and made his way over to the pair of Hylians. He didn't want to say it aloud, but so far he'd come up with nothing, and was sure that he wouldn't be making any breakthroughs anytime soon. The ice dragon sat down next to the two, but couldn't bring himself to meet Zelda's hopeful and expectant gaze. Instead he watched Link with sad eyes, wracking his mind for a way to heal the youth. He had his own potions and medicines stored in his den, but without knowing what the boy's true ailment was there was no way Cyril would risk worsening his condition by trying one of his remedies in the false hope that it would cure him. It was simply too risky.

The ice dragon could feel the girl's gaze move from him as she understood his silent answer. He took a quick glance at her, and the sadness and worry he saw on her face allowed guilt to solidify in his stomach, sitting there like a piece of rotting meat that simply wouldn't digest.

They all sat in near silence for a moment, the only sound being Link's ragged and shallow breathing.

"How long until your friends get here?"

Zelda's quiet question drew the dragon from his thoughts, but did nothing to lighten the dead weight in his stomach.

"An hour or so if the weather's good to them. Hopefully they'll have the means to cure Link of his illness, I only told them he was injured and you both needed proper shelter. I didn't suspect his condition would worsen to such a state."

Zelda simply nodded in reply, and then gazed at the sky above - praying safe passage to whomever was coming to their aid. They all simply sat there for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Link released a low groan and shifted onto his knees as the convulsions returned for another round.

_Please make haste…_

* * *

It was the very first time Spyro had flown up into the airstreams, and to be completely honest, it was exhilarating. The strong wind currents carried him along at a break neck pace, and being so high up in the air was invigorating. Adrenalin rushed through his veins as the young dragon twisted and twirled through the air, falling and tumbling as the winds continued to push him onwards. Hunter simply watched his friend enjoy himself, shaking his head at how immature and reckless his stunts were getting. The cheetah couldn't blame him though, the poor guy had been locked up for a solid week now, so if flying around like a lunatic meant getting all of that energy out of his system, then so be it. Besides, if the cheetah had wings he was sure he'd being doing the exact same thing.

"Looks like someone's going to sleep well tonight!" Meadow practically screamed, trying to get his voice heard over the sound of the wind rushing past him.

"Yeah! He might put me to sleep soon; I'm getting tired just watching him!"

The small party continued to fly on, allowing the strong high altitude winds to propel them south. Spyro had slowed down now, trying to conserve his energy for the rest of the trip. The air was beginning to chill and thin out as they got closer to their destination. With Levant's few words of advice, the small party descended below the clouds before they thickened, making it easier to navigate and breathe. Hunter and Meadow had put on their cloaks to try to protect themselves from the cold, whilst Spyro and Levant continued to fly on. They had certainly come a long way via the airstreams; before going above the clouds the lush (and very wet) Valley of Avalar was laid out beneath them, but now frozen oceans and icebergs had been strewn below them like diamonds on blue velvet.

Spyro broke into a glide as he observed the icy scenery. It had been years since Spyro had last visited the icy fortress that was Dante's Freezer, and the memories that he held about the desolate place weren't ones he liked to dwell upon. Not much had changed really, just the number of apes and other fortress denizens had dropped severely, and the place was a whole lot quieter in general. _Perhaps Cyril has managed to get the apes under control,_ Spyro thought as he scanned the freezing wastelands. Despite his optimistic thoughts, the young dragon couldn't help but feel uneasy about returning to its frozen walls. Something about returning seemed unnerving to him, as if there was something within the fortress that was…well, evil.

They continued to fly on, undisturbed by the inhabitants of the icy islands. The fortress was in sight now, its stark stone walls standing out from the expanses of white that surrounded it. Just as before, the once mighty fortress was in ruins; only the inner most sections had survived whatever cruel war had raged outside its walls many years ago. The outermost walls had crumbled and fallen before whatever mighty foe they had faced.

Levant veered off to the left, carrying the two cheetahs away from what Spyro had thought was their destination. Slightly confused, the young dragon followed them anyway, hoping that Levant knew where he was going. Knowing Cyril and his rather egotistical and haughty nature, Spyro would've imagined that his old mentor would've stationed himself within the actual fortress, not on the outskirts where they were headed. Putting his doubts aside, the young dragon continued to follow the others, keeping an eye out for any hostile inhabitants as they flew. The party made a few more turns before finally making their descent.

Spyro swooped down towards their snowy runway, breaking into a glide as he leveled himself out. The young dragon then pulled up swiftly to lose the momentum he'd gained while flying, and with a slight hover landed lightly on the ice and snow beneath him. Pain and weariness coursed through the dragon's aching flight muscles the moment he hit the snow. Levant landed shortly after, and from that point on they were to walk to wherever Cyril had made his home.

They trudged through the snow, Levant silently leading whilst Hunter and Meadow complained to each other about the cold and snow seeping between their toes. Spyro on the other hand was still watching for any foes who wished to challenge them, half expecting to get ambushed or something every time they went around a corner. He felt silly, being so paranoid, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was going to happen. The young dragon didn't know what to make of it, but if he had to guess he'd say it was either instincts or his mind simply playing tricks on him. Either way, Spyro wished he could just shake the feeling off.

"Over here!"

The unexpected voice practically gave Spyro a heart attack, but once the young dragon figured out who the voice belonged to he dashed ahead of the others to meet his mentor.

"Cyril!" The young dragon exclaimed, rushing forward to greet his mentor.

"I'm sorry Spyro, but I'm afraid reunions are going to have to wait. Please, all of you, come quickly!"

Without even waiting for a response, Cyril rushed back to wherever he'd come from, leaving a slightly crestfallen and worried Spyro in his wake. Now the dragon was sure something was up; he'd never seen Cyril act like that before. Without checking to see if the others were even following him, Spyro raced off after his mentor, mentally preparing himself for whatever he was about to face.

It only took a minute before Spyro came across a dragon sized cave carved into a wall of ice. He skidded to a halt, sending snow flying everywhere as he came to his frantic stop. _So this is where Cyril lives,_ thought the dragon as he wandered closer to the makeshift cave. It wasn't really that impressive, nor was it anything he'd expect to find Cyril living in. He was far too proud for that. He took in a steady breath, trying to calm his anxiously beating heart. He took another, but this time he noticed something different in the air. Spyro inhaled deeply through his nostrils, allowing him to catch even the smallest of the off putting scents.

…_Hmm, there's definitely blood, both dried and flowing…I can't tell what it's from though, I've never come across that scent before…There's something else foreign in there too…I think there's bandage dressings as well…yep, definitely dressings…Wait…is that bile?_

Putting two and two together, the purple dragon figured that someone had gotten injured, but he wasn't sure that was the entire case. The smell of bile lingered in his nostrils, making the dragon feel a bit queasy. He had no idea why that scent was present.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew Spyro out of his thoughts, and with a quick glance saw the rest of his companions walking towards the icy den.

"Come on, Spyro," Hunter said as he passed, "We shouldn't keep Cyril waiting. You know how he gets."

The young dragon sighed in agreement. As he walked, he turned to Levant, only to notice that he hadn't moved. "Aren't you coming in?" Spyro asked him.

The normally quiet dragon shook his head. "I'm not allowed; Cyril's orders."

Spyro nodded in understanding and then followed the two cheetahs into the frozen cave. As they walked through the ice tunnel, Spyro looked at the walls of the cave, lagging further and further behind as he did so. The rough and jagged surface told the young dragon that his mentor must've carved it out of the ice himself. Every now and then, Spyro would spot some drops of blood on the ground. He didn't even have to smell it in order to tell what it belonged to.

The tunnel began to slope downwards, and Spyro (who was still rather preoccupied with his surroundings) lost his grip on the icy floor. His feet slipped from beneath him, and before the dragon was even able to say 'grublins', he was sliding headfirst down the tunnel. He desperately dug his heels into the ice, trying to stop him from sliding any further, but only succeeded in bringing himself into an upright position. Seeing the bottom, Spyro closed his eyes and braced himself for impact.

The young dragon yelped as he was brought to an abrupt halt when his body hit the carpet of snow. With the momentum he'd built up from his slide, the dragon was immediately thrust forward by the invisible force. It took the dragon several forward rolls before he finally flopped to a halt, his scaly body covered with snow.

Spyro didn't have to listen hard to hear the stifled giggles of his companions. He huffed, and brought himself up onto all fours, causing some of the snow he'd collected in his scales to slide down his sides in a chilling cascade. He saw Hunter and Meadow looking at him, both with an obvious smirk tugging at their lips.

A single word crossed the young dragon's mind:

_Revenge._

Without warning, Spyro shook himself off like a dog, sending bits of snow flying in every direction possible. He snickered as the cheetahs bellowed out when the icy snow hit them, soaking into their clothing and leaving the two both cold and wet. Spyro did, however, manage to catch the sound of a high pitched squeal amongst the yells of his companions.

Ignoring the venomous looks burning into the side of his head, Spyro turned his attention to the peculiar creature standing in front of him. It stared at him with wide blue eyes, a mix of surprise and fury adorning its features. It opened its mouth as if to say something, but was quickly cut off by Cyril's hasty introductions. "Spyro, this is Zelda. She is going to be one of the two passengers you will be escorting back to Warfang. Zelda, this is Spyro, one of my students."

Despite her rage and the profanities that were sitting on the tip of her tongue, the princess managed to give the purple dragon a small, somewhat bitter, smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Spyro," she said.


	8. Whisperings

**A/N:** Hi guys! I suppose I have some explaining to do, considering that this chap took about two months to get up (which I am extremely sorry for ^^; ). My trial exams and School Cert. came up shortly after posting the last chapter, so I had to put my head down ( and arse up XD) for that, which did actually pay off (I got all A's except for maths, which was B8). I also had a few issues with what was happenning in this chap, so a lot of the time I spent working on it consisted of deliberation and excessive deleting/editting, but I'm happy with how this had turned out though. A huge thanks goes out to Lord Lithos Maitreya for betaing this chapter, which would have quite a few typos in it if Lithos hadn't stepped in :D

Also, I got Skyward Sword for my birthday! If you don't have it, you should definitely get it (or at least consider it). It is a really, REALLY good game (as well as one of the main reasons why this chapter was up so late).

As usual, thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story, I really appreciate it! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this chap! (As well as any rants or raves concerning how late this chapter was (just for the lulz))

That aside, I hope everyone's been well and that you enjoy the chapter!

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda or Legend of Spyro. They belong to Nintendo and Sierra**** respectively.**

* * *

Chapter 7 – Whisperings

* * *

"Uh…hi," Spyro said, an uncertain look crossing his features.

The dragon peered up at the creature named Zelda, the bitter smile she had plastered to her features moments ago beginning to fade. He continued to watch her, unsure of what else to say. 'Sorry' would've been a good start, but for some reason the dragon couldn't bring himself to form the simple apology. It wasn't that he felt any resentment towards her; his voice had just managed to elude him somehow.

As a compromise, he gave the peculiar creature a shy, yet sheepish grin, and lowered his head into a small bow.

Zelda's previously tense gaze softened at the dragon's gesture, accepting his apology. Naturally, she had been rather peeved at having snow hurled at her already freezing back, but Zelda wasn't going to hold that against her acquaintance. After all, she had more important things to be worrying about than misfired snow or first impressions.

"Zelda, I'd also like you to meet Hunter and Meadow," Cyril continued, pointing to the cheetahs respectively. They both gave a curt nod in response, still trying to steel themselves against the icy slush that a certain dragon had just launched at them.

Zelda looked at the cheetahs curiously. The princess had never seen creatures such as them before. She looked them over, taking note of their appearance; their feline build, the tunics they wore, the intricate blacks markings that covered their orange hued fur…

"So, I assume we'll be leaving immediately?" asked Hunter, who shifted uncomfortably under the princess' curious, and rather tense gaze.

"Well, I would like to say that, but…" Cyril trailed off, his throat tightening uncomfortably.

"…But?" the cheetah pressed, a concerned tone lacing his one-worded response. He never liked the word 'but'; it always meant bad news. That was one of the many lessons he'd learnt during the war against Malefor.

The ice dragon opened his mouth, trying to find a way to say what was on his mind without distressing his friends.

Zelda cleared her throat softly, drawing the cheetah's attention away from the flustered dragon.

"My friend is injured and very ill, and I'm afraid we cannot travel while he's in such a bad state," she said quietly.

There was a brief silence within the room, which was soon disturbed by Hunter's soft voice.

"Meadow here is an excellent herbalist and physician; perhaps there is something he can do about it,"

Zelda bit her lip slightly. She knew exactly what their next few words would be; 'Can we see him'. The sedation medicine Cyril had given Link had only just kicked in, and they both knew from previous attempts that it only managed to lull him into a light, restless sleep. An examination would surely wake him, and Link wasn't the kind of person who took being woken up by strange creatures carrying weapons all too well.

Not to mention seeing him in such a state would tear mercilessly at her heart.

"May I see him?" Meadow asked.

The princess hesitated somewhat, taking a few moments to think of a story that would deter any visitors from disturbing her friend's already restless sleep, as well as put them at risk of any bodily harm. "…I'm sorry, but no. His…his illness resembles one of the more deadly ones from my homeland. For all I know it could affect your species in a similar or more lethal way, and I don't really want to put any of you at risk. I can tell you the symptoms though."

The lie left a sickening taste in her mouth, but it did the trick. The purple-eyed cheetah gave a small nod, a signal for her to continue.

"The symptoms showed up a few hours ago; he at first he was feeling rather dizzy and nauseous, and not long after that he broke out in a fever and started throwing up..."

"You also said he was injured; can you tell me what the injuries were?" the herbalist inquired, mentally connecting the listed symptoms to numerous illnesses and poisons as she spoke.

"He's got a few flesh wounds; none of them are infected, I've cleaned and checked all of them myself. He also took an arrow to the right shoulder," she said, her hand lightly circling the area on her shoulder that would've been where Link was hit with the arrow, the sound of his agonized cry echoing through her mind as she did so.

The cheetah nodded, quickly taking mental notes. "Has he eaten anything out of the ordinary recently?" the herbalist inquired quirking an eyebrow as he spoke.

"No, not that I'm aware of," the Hylian replied. A small smile crept to her lips, and a soft laugh escaped her lithe form. "No, I'm pretty sure Link learned that eating brightly coloured fruits from foreign plants isn't a good idea, no matter how hungry you are." She gave a quick sigh before continuing, "It was one of the many lessons he learnt the hard way."

"Don't worry, he's not the only one," Hunter interjected, tossing his feline head in Spyro's direction.

Fighting off the urge to stick his tongue out at the snide cheetah, the dragon immediately sent a spiteful glare in Hunter's direction, before slinking around a corner into a more secluded part of the cave. He didn't particularly want to stick around for Meadow's diagnosis; it reminded him too much of the council meetings in Warfang. Not to mention he didn't want to be around if Hunter started reminiscing about their previous adventures, telling stories about some of Spyro's more regrettable moments (you know, the ones that we often associated with the phrase 'perhaps that wasn't such a good idea after all').

Meadow folded his arms across his chest, his purple eyes trained on the snow at his feet. He stood like that for a short while, his brow furrowing as he delved deeper into his thoughts. The names of toxins and illnesses ran through his mind like the waters of the Avalar River; both swift and clear. Link's symptoms matched the effects of various poisons, but the cheetah still had one question burning in the back of his mind that needed answering before he could come to any conclusions; _How did it get into his system…_

The next few moments seemed to crawl by, each one taking an eternity to pass. Meadow could feel Zelda's intense gaze boring into him as he mulled all of the possibilities around in his mind. All had gone silent, removing any distractions that could disrupt the thoughts churning around inside the herbalist's head.

His ears twitched slightly and his eyes widened.

"Do you still have the arrow?" Meadow asked, shifting his gaze from the ground to Zelda.

Zelda stood there for a moment, confusion making itself obvious on her features. The princess' once calm demeanor became flustered, and upon seeing that he wasn't going to get an answer Meadow repeated his question.

"I said, do you still have the arrow?" the cheetah asked, his tone firmer than before.

"…No." she replied, still somewhat confused by the question. "Why would I…"

"Was the arrow tipped?"

* * *

Spyro simply stood there and stared at the thing. If he'd taken just a few more steps he would've trodden on the fleshy creature before him.

It was lying on its side, blankets wrapped tightly over the sleeping creature. Its chest rose and fell at a steady pace, remaining in sync with the sound of its breathing. Both scars and wounds alike crisscrossed its flesh, creating strange jagged patterns on its skin. Bandages wound their way around various wounds, reeking of the scent of blood. A mop of dirty blonde hair adorned its head, as well as long, pointed ears, each pierced with a single silver hoop. A faint, golden triangular symbol was also visible on the back of its left hand.

The purple dragon easily figured that, whatever it was, it had to be related to Zelda somehow. He continued to watch it, the sound Meadow's voice beginning to echo in the background. His mind had vaguely registered the lack of conversation coming from the other section of the cave earlier, but he hadn't really paid much mind to it.

After all, he'd just discovered where that strange scent was coming from, and quite frankly he was rather pleased with himself.

The sound of hurried murmurs echoed into the smaller chamber, drawing Spyro from his thoughts. Curious, the purple dragon began to make his way back to the others, notions of finally being able to leave the cursed fortress entertaining his thoughts. The anxious feeling that he'd experienced shortly after their arrival continued to tug at the corner of Spyro's mind, and the dragon was sure that once they left he'd finally be rid of its presence. He rounded a corner, only to come face-to-face with Zelda and Cyril.

"Ah, it seems you have found him already…" Cyril said, peering over the top of Spyro's head at the mass of blankets behind him. Zelda quickly weaved around the purple dragon, heading over to the sleeping creature with a troubled look on her face.

"Sooo… Are we heading off now?" Spyro asked, a small spark of hope in his eyes.

Cyril sighed. "We are, but I'm afraid you're going to have to stay here for a short while. Zelda, Meadow, Hunter, Levant and I have to go search for something, and we can't afford to leave Link by himself while he's in such a bad state."

"Surely Meadow would be able to stay and look after him instead," Spyro argued. "He's far better at these sorts of things than I am."

"Spyro, I'm afraid this topic is not open to debate," Cyril replied, an icy tone fortifying both his point and decision. He turned to leave the small chamber, but his path was soon blocked by an eager, if not desperate, dragon.

"But more wings would cover more ground," Spyro pointed out. "I'm a fast flyer, Cyril. The search would go quicker if you let me-"

"Spyro, the answer is no." Cyril said, cutting his pupil off. The ice dragon attempted to step around his student, but his path was blocked yet again.

"But I know nothing about medicine! What if I-"

"Spyro," Cyril said, his voice becoming dangerously low. "This topic is not open to debate."

"But I'd be of more use if-"

"Spyro," the ice dragon repeated, the previously calm expression on his face darkening into an angry glower. "Under normal circumstances, I would bring you with me and leave someone like Meadow to look after Link. All of your points are valid, Spyro, but after the events that have transpired recently, I cannot afford to leave Link without a proper means of protection."

Spyro's stomach churned anxiously. What kind of fortress denizen could be such a hazard that Cyril needed to enlist a purple dragon for protection?

_That feeling I've had since I've arrived… perhaps it's not just me… What if…_

"…Protection from what?" Spyro asked quietly.

Cyril's face softened slightly, surprise beginning to mark its presence on his features, which was shortly followed by concern. The abrupt change in demeanor on Spyro's part put the dragon off slightly; his pupil had just gone from practically grasping at threads in his desperation to go with the search party to quiet and anxious within mere seconds.

A small tap on his shoulder caused the ice dragon to jump slightly, his head jerking towards whatever had just startled him.

Zelda looked up at the ice dragon, an apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that,"

Cyril relaxed slightly at the sight of the Hylian. "That's fine. I presume you are ready to depart?"

Zelda smiled and gave a quick nod. She quickly stepped around Spyro, making her way towards the main part of the cave. Spyro didn't bother to hold Cyril up any longer, letting the ice dragon pass as he followed the Hylian. Spyro watched his mentor leave, anxiety dominating all other emotions as he contemplated what Cyril meant by 'events that have transpired recently' and the possibility of an unknown danger.

Before rounding the corner into the main cavern, Cyril stopped. _Spyro should at least be told…_

"Certain… things, have been going on recently, hidden behind the walls of the fortress and kept away from prying eyes by the shadows. Dante's Freezer may be a vast and desolate place, but rumors can sweep through its populations like the artic winds…" Cyril said, turning his head to the side so that he could view Spyro through the corner of his eye. On the outside, his pupil remained emotionless, but Cyril could sense the anxiousness and worry welling up inside the purple dragon; he could also see it in his eyes.

"I've heard whisperings from the Spector Ghouls, rumors and secrets concerning the apes that dwell within the fortress." Cyril continued, his voice growing lower with each word he spoke. "Something's coming, Spyro, and they're getting ready for it. They say they have been regrouping for some time now, preparing themselves for whatever this new evil is going to bring upon them."

Spyro opened his mouth to voice one of his many questions, but was soon cut off by his mentor.

"Don't bother asking me for any further information. I have told you most of what I know, but the rest is for the Council's ears only. Until I've discussed this issue with them, I can tell you no more."

Spyro nodded, accepting the closure of the ice dragon's knowledge. The purple dragon had heard enough anyway; the information Cyril had provided him matched the hermit's cryptic messages far too well for Spyro's liking, and if the dragon was to take on another morsel of anxiety today he would surely be overwhelmed by the dreaded feeling.

"Are you ready to leave, Cyril?" Hunter's voice echoed down the corridor, bouncing off the walls and breaking the underlying tension that had built up during the two dragon's conversation.

"Yes, I'm on my way now," Cyril called back. He took a few steps forward and then turned back to the purple dragon one last time.

"Also, I had a bit of a… um, how to put this… a bit of a run in, with a rather large ape hoard this morning, and the encounter had been far from peaceful. It wouldn't surprise me if they came here to seek revenge of some sorts," the ice dragon said, his voice adopting a tone of nonchalance.

With that, the ice dragon disappeared around the corner, leaving Spyro in the company of the ill Hylian and his own troubled thoughts.

_Perhaps the Ancestor's aren't quite done after all… _


	9. Your Move

**A/N: **SURPRISE!

I have finally gotten the next chapter up (only took me about a year to do, but better late than never, right?). *Sighs* I'm really, really sorry for making you all wait so long for this, I really do feel bad about it. My HSC Prelim year was busy, to say the least, and during my disappearance I have had little to no time for myself (it was hell at some points; I did have a bit of an emotional breakdown towards the end of it all).

I'm going to set myself up a study timetable soon, and I plan on reserving several slots to work on this fic, so hopefully this will get updated on a regular basis from now on.

Regardless, thank you for everyone who has stuck with me and waited ever-so patiently for this next chapter. I really do appreciate it, and as cheesy as this sounds I cannot completely express my appreciation for you guys (and girls, if you don't like being referred to as 'guy') with words alone. Thank you!

As usual, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter! I love hearing your thoughts on what's happened so far, so feel free to make any comments/reviews!

And without further adieu, I give you the newest chapter of Entwined Destinies!

* * *

Chapter 8 – Your Move

* * *

The dragon stared idly at the icy stalactite, his mind devoid of thought and face portraying no real emotion. Every so often, his vision would be obscured by his misty breath, which would rise and hang in the air for a moment or two before dissolving into the surrounding space. Watching the condensed air swirl and morph into strange shapes had proved entertaining for a short while, but the novelty of it soon wore off, leaving the dragon with nothing to do but wait.

And he hated waiting.

Especially when he could be making better use of himself elsewhere.

A frown played across Spyro's face, turning his previously blank expression into an image of frustration. So far, nothing had disturbed the icy halls of Cyril's home, leaving the young dragon doubtful at the thought of any intruders coming to attack him and his charge. The Hylian had done nothing to help ease the dragon's sense of uselessness either, sleeping soundly since the search partly had left.

Drumming his talons on the frozen floor, the purple dragon moved his gaze around the room, searching for something to do that would either help Cyril out in some manner or prove to be mildly entertaining. He scrutinized the contents of the room, but it wasn't long before his gaze fell back to the icy stalactite that he'd been staring at earlier. A mischievous grin pulled at the dragon's lips as a small thought occurred to him, and, even though it wouldn't necessarily prove helpful to Cyril, it would certainly keep the dragon occupied for a short period of time. Not to mention it would help siphon off some of the dragon's excess magic and frustration.

Purple irises locked onto the icicle, and the dragon's misty breath began to turn smoky. Spyro focused, tapping in to his supernatural energies and stoking the fires that burned deep within him. He shot a small, experimental flame from the corner of his mouth, watching as it curled and licked at the air. Satisfied, the dragon drew in a deep breath and readied himself. That icicle would not be there for long.

A torrent of fire burst from the dragon's mouth, its heated flames racing towards the ceiling, ready to strike without mercy. The ice fizzled as the dragonish fires made contact with its frozen form, the unmoving water hissing angrily as fiery tongues licked hungrily at its surface. Water began to run down the contours of the icicle, reflecting the orange glow of the dragon's relentless flames. Steam rose and water fell as the fires continued to rain upon the ice.

With one last huff, Spyro released the final flame, which, to his apparent disappointment, fell short of its target. The dragon looked over the now sad excuse for an icicle, which had been reduced to a pitiful stub that protruded from the ceiling. The ice continued to hiss and sizzle quietly, while droplets of water slid down the icy stub and fell to the ground at a slow, steady pace. Some of the ice around the stub had also melted, leaving a rather large cavity in the ceiling that Cyril would surely notice (and probably not appreciate) upon his return.

Releasing a quiet sigh, the dragon shifted his gaze towards his charge, who had, thankfully, remained asleep during Spyro's little display. He looked over the sleeping creature again, creating gashes in the ice at his paws as he scratched at it absentmindedly. The Hylian had hardly moved throughout the duration of Spyro's stay, which the dragon had considered normal for someone as ill as he was. Not bothering to give the subject a second thought, the dragon returned to gazing emptily at the icy cavern.

It wasn't until after a short period of nothingness that Spyro realized how tired he was, and an abrupt wave of weariness washed over his scaly body. Seeing as there was little he could do to help, he rested his head on his paws and allowed his eyes to droop. His eyes grew heavy, and just before sleep claimed his being he noticed the slight shifting of covers in front of him.

* * *

Despite the severity of the situation, the creature held himself at full height, beady eyes locked on to the figure before him. The figure sat on a throne of sorts, slouching to the left as he supported his head with an armored hand. Not a single word had escaped the figure's lips since the creature had been brought before him; he had simply watched the creature with a calculating gaze, smiling slightly as he sensed the creature begin to squirm under the foreboding suspense. Intense golden irises bored into the creature, patiently waiting for its confident façade to collapse.

_To show fear is to show weakness, and weakness is something that I have little tolerance for._

The words echoed through the bulblin's mind, forcing him to keep his eyes trained on his superior. His recent failure had cost his master greatly, and having witnessed his wrath before gave him every right to be fearful of the figure's next words. Despite this, the bulblin dared not to allow any emotion seep into his expression.

It was a test of his resolve, and if he were to fail this test his master would surely smite him were he stood.

A few more minutes trickled by, almost at an unbearable pace.

"…You do realize that you're mistake has cost me."

The sudden rumble of his master's voice almost startled the bulblin. Almost.

"Yes, my lord."

The figure waited for the bulblin to continue, sitting in silence for a few moments. The lack of its petty excuses irked him somewhat, and his waning patience urged him to prompt the worthless creature before him to elaborate upon its misadventure. After all, the messenger hadn't fully delivered news of the event before his anger had gotten the better of him.

A slight expression of dry mirth fell over the figure's face. "Explain yourself."

"We were attacked, my lord. We practically had them; the boy had been poisoned by one of our archers and was on the verge of succumbing to its effects, and the girl had been injured by one of our troops."

The figure watched as the bulblin paused for a moment. He watched as the creature gathered its thoughts, a hint of hesitation reflecting in its beady eyes.

After drawing in a quick breath, it continued, "Before we could fully intercept them, there was a blue flash of light, and a large creature appeared. It-"

Curiosity piqued, the figure cut in. "What sort of creature?"

"I'm not entirely sure, my lord, but it appeared to be some kind of large, blue, winged reptilian, for the lack of a better description."

"…Continue."

"Very well, my lord. The creature attacked us, injuring and killing several of our troops before disappearing in a flash of blue light, just as it had arrived. We attempted to apprehend it for later examination, but the sheer size and power of the beast outmatched the strength we held in numbers."

The figure didn't bother to conceal his skepticism, allowing it to contort his expression into a look of amused doubt; after all, this was by far the most imaginative excuse that his dim-witted minions had managed to conjure, either in a hopeless attempt to soothe his anger or to save their own hides. Regardless of their intentions, he could see little truth in the bulblin's story.

"My men can confirm the creature's existence, my lord." The bulblin said, carefully reading his master's expression. "We even have the bodies of those who were mauled by the beast, if you wish to see the evidence."

"How do I know that you have not simply provoked another creature into attacking the bodies to make them appear as if something else had killed them?"

_Do not abandon your post or your purpose, for those who do will face a punishment worse than death. This I can assure you._

The words haunted the bulblin's mind; it was another warning.

"The bite and claw marks on their bodies are unique, my lord. They fail to match any of the creatures that roam the fields of your land."

The figure smiled; not out of joy, nor of the relief that his minion was indeed being honest, but of the dry satisfaction he felt towards the bulblin's unwavering demeanor. He had showed no fear and commitment in the delivery of his report; something that those who had stood in the same chamber before him had failed to maintain.

"Very well then. What of the Hylians?"

"Gone; the beast took them as it fled."

The words seemed to hover around the room, echoing its torment to all that stood within the vast, empty space. The figure finally drew his eyes away from the bulblin, lowering them to the ground in thought. A few moments trickled by.

"What of the 'Hero's' mare?" the figure uttered, practically spitting as he pronounced the title of the young man who he had failed to see as a threat for far too long; a foolish mistake that had done far more damage than it should have.

"The beast didn't take it. It's still probably wandering Hyrule Field, looking for her master, my lord," the bulblin replied, curious as to way his master was asking such an obscure question.

"Find it and capture it. I'm sure that the 'Hero' will be missing that infernal creature dearly upon his return, and if there is no sign of him by the next half-moon you are free to do as you wish with it," the figure ordered, an air of nonchalance surrounding his voice. "You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Lord Ganondorf," the bulblin replied, lowering itself into a deep bow. It turned around and began to move towards the room's only exit, relief already washing over him. As he approached the large double-doors, the sound of his master's voice resonated within the chamber, a dark undertone lacing his words as they reached the bulblin's ears.

"Do not think for a moment that you are forgiven for your insolence. The only thing that has kept you alive today was your resolve; if you had faltered, even for a moment, I would have seen to it that your blood painted this very room crimson. Fail me in this task, and I assure you that I will not be giving you any chance for redemption."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

"I told you he would interfere soon."

An irritated frown fell across the figure's face as the voice reached his ears: soft and smooth, laced with a subtle, snide tone that rarely failed to present itself within his words.

So much for taking a few moments alone to regain one's composure.

"I thought I took care of you two days ago."

"Ah, well you see…" the intruder began, shifting from his position against the wall. He took a few steps towards the armored man before him, who was still to provide him with the courtesy of facing him. He grinned, sensing an influx of annoyance within the other man as he approached, "… it takes a little more than an incineration spell and that molten forge of yours get rid of me"

The armored figure sighed and finally faced the intruder, angry golden irises boring into the unwelcome visitor, who was garbed in black with a hood drawn over his face, hiding his features. The armored man didn't need to see his face to tell that he was smiling.

"What is it that you want, Tamaldran?"

The intruder laughed. "Well, other than to say 'I told you so', not a great deal."

"No aimless fool would return to my domain after being cast out of it and into the molten earth below for the third time," Ganondorf growled. "I know better than to think that someone such as yourself would return to me without a purpose."

"And what if I have? What if I have returned here simply to spite you over your troops' most recent… misadventure." Tamaldran replied, his snide tone making itself prominent in his insult.

"Because such a senseless goal would not yield a big enough reward for you, considering the amount of time and energy taken to achieve it. Would I be correct in saying so?"

"Ah, you know me too well, Ganondorf." The intruder said, taking a few steps towards an open window. Hidden eyes scanned across the desolate and dying land before him; it was hard to imagine the reason as to why his armored acquaintance was so bent on claiming it as his, even in such a horrid state. He sensed the other man take a few steps towards him, patiently waiting for him to elaborate upon his sudden and evidently unwelcome appearance.

"I warned you that he would intervene soon," Tamaldran said, all traces of his usual snideness gone.

"So you said," Ganondorf replied. "And I suppose the creature that the bulblin spoke of during his report had something to do with it?"

"That it did," the intruder replied, still staring out of the open window, not bothering to face his acquaintance. "In fact, the creature's arrival would have been a result of his actions."

"What actions?"

"Of that I am not sure, but based on the description of its appearance that that bulblin provided you with, I'd have to say that the creature brought itself here, after being prompted to do so."

Ganondorf's eyes fell to the floor, his temper rising slightly at the information. "What, exactly, was that infernal creature?"

Tamaldran gave a mirthless laugh, still not removing his gaze from the open window. "A dragon, no doubt, however this was no ordinary dragon that your troops encountered."

"Dragons no longer exist here."

"Not that you're aware of," Tamaldran replied, finally facing the man, a nonchalant tone briefly occupying his voice. "Besides, this particular beast is not native to Hyrule."

Ganondorf simply stared at the hooded man, his irritable expression demanding for him to further elaborate. Tamaldran sighed, returning his gaze to the dying landscape, the scenery neatly framed by the open window.

"This dragon is not of this world; he reigns from another realm, completely different to this one and inaccessible to any ordinary mortal. He is a guardian of sorts, spending his days watching and recording the events of his own realm, and evidently those of this realm as well. His existence is known by only a handful of souls, and those that do know of him refer to him as 'The Chronicler'."

"And what exactly does this 'Chronicler' want with the princess and 'Hero'?"

"Nothing, as far as I can tell, simply to rescue them from your bulblins, although I do not believe he would've done so without prior knowledge of the ambush. That creature has access to a huge store of information; it wouldn't surprise me if Liathri has subtly provided him with some sort of foresight into what has passed."

"…So what do we do next? If Liathri is indeed beginning to work against us, how can we stop him?!"

The question forced Tamaldran to face Ganondorf once again, raising his head slightly as he contemplated his answer.

"If Liathri wishes to drag another world into the affairs of this one, than we shall assist him in doing so."

"And how is that going to help us?!" the armored man replied, his tone livid and expression incredulous. "I have come too far to have my plans destroyed by an insolent fool who is yet to reveal himself to me!"

"Calm yourself. I am not planning to do so in such a way that will ruin all you've worked for; we made a deal, remember?"

Ganondorf didn't offer a response to the hooded man's question. He simply stared at him, golden irises ablaze with fury.

"Liathri is not the only one with connections to the other realms," Tamaldran paused, making sure that he had the other man's full attention. "Unfortunately, mine are… a little less than animated, at this present time, and there are certain rules that prevent me from changing this." He paused again, taking a moment to observe the calculating gaze that Ganondorf was giving him.

"And what is it that you want me to do about it?" the armored man inquired, still somewhat irked at Tamaldran's earlier suggestion.

Tamaldran smiled. "I'm going to be quite blatant with you, Ganondorf; I want you to revive my connections to the Dragon Realms. If you succeed, I shall provide you with an ally whose power is equal to your own and will personally ensure that he remains loyal to you and your cause."

"How do I know that this isn't some sort of ploy intended to dispose of me?"

"If I had wanted to get rid of you I would've done so long before now. Besides, I have nothing to gain from your death. Only Liathri would reap some sort of benefit from your destruction, and we wouldn't want him to get the upper hand, now would we?"

Golden irises remained on the hooded man, the churning of thoughts evident in their subtle glow. Ganondorf shifted his gaze to the window, taking in all that he had worked so hard to achieve; all that could be taken away from him by a certain Hylian if he was left unattended.

"Very well then, I will help you. What is it that you want me to do?"

The hooded man made his sneer visible from beneath the shadows of his hood. "I shall take you to the place where my final connection was severed; where your new ally rests. There you are to spill the life's blood of your sworn enemy and smear it across the ground. Channel your energy into the earth, split its core and release him and all of his fury."

Ganondorf opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but was cut off as Tamaldran answered his unspoken troubles.

"Do not fret; the 'Hero' will be there, I assure you. He too has business there."

The armored man nodded, fully accepting his task.

Tamaldran smiled.

_Your move, Liathri._


	10. Ricochet

**A/N: **Hi everyone!

*Sighs* First of all, I'm going to apologize for my absence and the long wait for this chapter. My HSC year and dance teaching diploma have left me with very little time to work on this story, and since my future and career opportunities will depend a lot on how well I do at school this year, I really haven't been able to set time aside for myself to sit down and get writing (I'm not being melodramatic either; just Google search "Australia ATAR" and you'll get a bit of an insight as to why it's so important).

Also, just as a quick note though, there's a good chance that the next chapter won't be up for another month (a fortnight at the earliest, depending on how quickly I get my crap together) due to the following:  
- Mid course exams  
- Final session for my diploma, including my Panel Assessment and exams  
- Essays for said diploma will also be due soon  
- Three assessments for school that are all due in three consecutive days (they're the first three days back too D:)  
(I'm saying this solely so that those who follow this fic will have some insight as to what's going on and as to why updates are so far apart; I simply don't want to leave anyone in the dark).

That aside though, I've finally managed to put together the next chapter for Entwined Destinies! :D I'll admit though, it was really nice to be able to get back into writing this; I've missed it quite a lot actually (it's a nice change from writing essays XD). I'm also planning on making a cover for this book (if and when I get the time, that is), so if anyone has some ideas for the cover feel free to send me a message or leave a review about it!

Also, feel free to leave a review with your thoughts and feedback on the chapter; I love hearing what you all have to say!

Well, I suppose I'd better not hold you up with my idle chattering any longer XD Here's chapter 9 of Entwined Destinies!

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Spyro or Legend of Zelda franchises or any characters, concepts, etc associated with** **them.**

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Chapter 9 – Ricochet

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_If only I hadn't slept!_

A vicious snarl tore from the dragon's throat as he watched the creature dash around the corner and out of the small room. For the second time, he attempted to heave himself onto all fours, only to have his paws slip from beneath him as they refused to separate. He fell to the floor with a resounding thud, glaring daggers at the doorway from which his assailant had just fled. Frustrated and panting heavily, he continued to squirm, trying desperately to wrench his paws from their newly found bonds. Unfortunately, the dragon hadn't been awake enough to completely register who or what had done this to him, and he cursed himself for allowing his conscious to slip into such a detached state that he failed to notice the intruder.

Lifting his head, Spyro looked over the room, noting that several items had been taken from the scene, as well as the two empty vials that had been carelessly discarded at the entrance, one of which was shattered, its broken fragments tossed haphazardly across the icy floor. Drops of blue liquid still clung to the ruined glass, some of which was slowly running down the contours of the shards before finally pooling on the ice below. He drew his gaze to his feet, his forepaws bound together in the same hurried (and evidently effective) fashion as his hind paws. Ceasing his struggles, Spyro took a closer look at the knots. By no means were they complex, as they looked so simple that anyone could have tied them at a second's notice. He gave his wrists an experimental tug, only to watch the knot grow tighter.

"Hmph, clever." The dragon muttered to himself. He knew little about the subject of knots, and began to wish that he'd paid more attention to Hunter and his little survival lessons that he gave Tharros every once and a while; the two had spent an entire hour fiddling with ropes and creating all sorts of knots, whilst Spyro had simply watched them from afar, leisurely splaying himself out across the emerald grass of the Valley of Avalar in a detached state of bliss.

Bringing himself back to his current predicament, he huffed and brought his front paws up to his head, dragging the restricted limbs across the ice. He did not know much about untying knots, but the dragon also knew of another remedy that would certainly free him of his bonds.

Before setting to work, the dragon began to channel his magic into his fangs, opening his mouth slightly as it began to engulf his sharpened teeth. His mouth began to grow hot as he concentrated the fiery element onto the surface of his fangs, causing the surrounding air to condense, forming a light mist that spiralled and rose before his face. Minding his own paws, Spyro began to chew at the rope that encircled his front wrists, the heat in his fangs making it easier for the dragon to sever the rope without setting it alight. It only took a few good hacks for the dragon to free himself, and as the last of the rope was severed he gave his paws a good flick, sending the ropes flying towards the back end of the room. Not being able to help himself, he cracked a triumphant grin and pushed himself into an upright position, beginning to shift the concentrated fire energy from his fangs to his free talons, ready to sever the remaining bonds. His smile however, left his face as quickly as it had come.

The covers had been left in a heap, upturned and exposing the once warm mattress to the unfriendly cold. The bow that had been placed close to the bedding had been left at his feet, and the bed was empty.

Spyro's stomach dropped. The Hylian was gone.

The dragon's mind began to churn as panic set in. He looked around the room frantically, a small part of him hoping to see his charge lying hidden amongst the contents of the room. There was no sign of him, and the purple beast let out a small whine as fear began to grip him.

_How could I have been so stupid! If only I hadn't fallen asleep, none of this would've happened… What if the intruder got him? Oh Ancestors, Cyril did say something about the apes earlier… I hope this has nothing to do with them; they may be a bunch of morons but they can be cruel when they want to…_

The sound of clumsy and erratic footsteps echoed into the small chamber, derailing the dragon's train of thought. He stopped to listen, and his ears were met with a loud crash and some yelling. Whoever was out there, it certainly wasn't the search party.

The purple creature tried to stand, and in his hurry forgot that his hind legs were still bound, causing him to fall down for the third time since he had woken. The noises continued to grow louder, and despite his newly found annoyance he quickly began to slice through the ropes, hacking away at the fibres with hot talons. It only took two slashes for the ropes to fall, and as soon as they fell from his legs the dragon leapt to his feet and bolted, stiff limbs fighting to grip the icy floor.

The yelling was growing louder now, mixed with the sound of his talons scraping against the icy floor. Another crash echoed down the corridor, shortly followed by enraged chattering and a pained cry.

The dragon dug his heels into the ground as the end of the corridor approached him, the speed he had picked up during his run managing to balance out the backward force that his heels had created, allowing the dragon to skid to a graceful and elegant halt at the mouth of the corridor. He leapt boldly into the main chamber, his mind filled with his triumph over the ice. It took several more moments than it should have for the dragon to register the blurred object hurtling towards him, and his lack of precaution was rewarded a solid blow to the face.

The purple creature fell back, landing on the ground in a heap, his ears ringing slightly. He could still hear the commotion behind him, continuing as if nothing had happened. He forced himself onto all fours, taking several moments for him to regain his balance, a deep growl beginning to build up in the back of his throat.

He wheeled around to face the intruders, allowing a vicious snarl to tear from his throat as a new found rage began to boil beneath his skin. Purple irises locked on to the two intruders, both of whom had frozen at the terrifying sound. A large ape stared back at the creature, wary eyes refusing to shift from the dragon's purple form. A large metal club hovered at its side, as if its wielder was unsure of what to do next, the bluish glow that usually enveloped the primitive weapon missing. A spiked shield had also been strapped to its left arm, and the hides of several unfortunate animals served to protect the ape from both the cold and its enemies. It continued to watch the dragon with a calculating gaze, its eyes giving Spyro an almost perfect insight to the creature's thoughts:

_Wait for an opening._

Not moving, the dragon shifted his gaze towards the second intruder, who had not dared to move since he had made his presence known. It took the dragon a few moments to register the creature that he was looking at, but once he realised who it was he couldn't stop his previous snarl from sliding off his face.

Unfamiliar orbs stared at the dragon from below, an unearthly blue glow giving the creature's gaze an unsettling appearance that disturbed the dragon somewhat. Dishevelled blonde hair hung around its face, and a ribbon of crimson had blossomed from its forehead, trailing down and along the contours of its face. Several bandages were visible from beneath its off-white shirt, and the unique, albeit faint scent of the creature's blood wafted towards the dragon's nostrils.

He had found his charge.

Spyro began to move towards the Hylian, whose eyes quickly darted between the approaching dragon and the ape, not daring to move anything else. The dragon stopped at about an arm's length away from the Hylian, who, much to Spyro's confusion, seemed as if he was free of whatever illness that had affected him so badly up until now. He frowned slightly, his senses beginning to register something radiating from his charge that he believed only dragons could possibly wield.

A spiked blow to the side wrenched the dragon from his thoughts, sending the creature to the floor once more.

The dragon rolled and stood up, the battle cry of the ape echoing throughout the chamber as it swiped at the Hylian; the sight making the dragon's stomach drop. His charge ducked before retreating several paces, producing a small dagger as he moved towards the edge of the cave. Seeing this, the ape turned his attention to the dragon, swinging its large club at its new adversary. Spyro ducked, raking sharp talons along the creature's side as it moved. Blood began to pour from the wound, and the sight of which only seemed to enrage the ape further rather than subdue it.

It wasn't long before Spyro finally settled back into the flow of combat. The dragon dodged and parried each of the ape's attacks, continually moving and attacking the primate in an elaborate and bloody dance. It wasn't long before the dragon gained the upper hand.

However, this would not last.

Unbeknownst to Spyro, the fight had slowly made its way towards the edge of the cave, where the Hylian was resting, the blue glow in his eyes dimming considerably and his breath becoming shallow once more. The ape feigned an attack, forcing the dragon back several paces, before whirling around and grabbing a handful of the Hylian's hair and pulling him into the fray.

The dragon wasn't able to catch himself in time.

He winced as he felt the spiked crest of his tail collide with flesh instead of fur, and the pained cry that accompanied the sensation made the dragon feel sick to the core. As he continued to whirl around, he saw the Hylian fall to the ground in a heap, his red blood sprayed upon the glistening ice. He did not stir.

In a short burst of fury, the dragon tackled the ape, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground. Spyro snapped and growled and snarled at the creature, his mind set on tearing it to shreds, spilling its blood as he had done to his charge. Everything became a blur to him for a few moments; all he could see were blurs of crimson and white as he slashed and bit at the ape, bloodlust driving him onward and guiding him through every motion.

It wasn't long before the dragon felt himself being pulled from the ape, who had finally managed to get a good grip on one of his horns. He hurled the dragon to the side and onto the ice, the force of the blow dazing the dragon for a few moments; long enough for the ape to pin him to the ground.

The ape grinned evilly at him, taking pleasure in the pain that he had caused the dragon. Slowly and without taking his eyes from Spyro's, the ape pulled one of the crude spikes embedded in its shield from its recess before waving it in the dragon's face with a soft, sinister chuckle.

"And here I thought…" it said quietly, pulling its gaze from the dragon to the makeshift weapon in his hand. " And here I thought that you were destined to fall at the hands of a greater evil."

The ape's dark eyes flicked back up to the dragon's, its grin stretching just that little bit wider across his face in a taunting manner. "After all, one would imagine that a creature with as much power and prestige as yourself would suffer a far more spectacular defeat than by my humble hand."

The ape looked at the dragon expectantly, hoping that he would give him the satisfaction of a response.

Spyro offered no verbal response, but he could not stop himself from curling his top lip, exposing sharp and bloodied fangs.

"Well I suppose that's of no matter," the ape hissed, pushing Spyro's head back and exposing more of the dragon's neck he spoke. "Once you are dead and gone, I may finally be able to rest in peace, so I have no qualms as to how you go."

The ape raised the shield-spike above his head, and Spyro closed his eyes.

A battle cry sounded, but it was shortly drowned out by a screech of fury.

Spyro opened his eyes as he felt the ape move off of him. Not hesitating, the dragon pulled himself onto all fours and took several paces back, panting slightly in relief. He looked up, and watched for a few moments in fear as he saw what had latched itself firmly to the ape's back, refusing to be cast from it and onto the icy ground once more.

One arm was around the ape's neck, whilst the other clung to a small dagger that had been forced deep into the beast's chest. Bloodied legs had wrapped themselves firmly around the ape's torso, and as the beast whirled around in a violent attempt to shake its attacker off, a set of vibrant, blue eyes locked onto the dragon's for a moment, the slightest of glows emanating from them.

"Go! Get out of here!" His charge yelled, still fighting to steer the ape away from the dragon.

Spyro stood there in shock for a moment; his charge was alive, and now putting himself on the line to protect him from a creature that looked as though it could shatter him with so much as a single blow.

The dragon began to make his way towards the struggling pair, only to be stopped by his charge's fierce gaze.

"What are you doing?! I said for you to-"

The ape wrenched the Hylian from his back and threw him across the room, releasing a shriek of triumph as the dragon's charge rolled to a painful halt. Spyro watched in horror as he saw the ape reach for his club.

Time seemed to slow as the dragon ran for his charge; he could see the ape charging towards the dazed Hylian, raising his club above his head, preparing for the kill.

He pushed himself harder, his subconscious allowing his magic to accumulate within him, giving him the strength he needed to reach the Hylian.

_But perhaps not in time._

The ape was already there. He brought a second hand up to the club, and with as much force as he could muster, brought it down upon the Hylian, who had brought his arms over his head in a desperate attempt to shield himself.

_No!_

With one final push, the dragon leapt to his charge's side, the club growing dangerously close to the pair. He grasped the fabric of his shirt, and with the momentum that he'd built up from his sprint, flung the Hylian across the room; out of harm's way.

The dragon felt time return to normal as he watched his charge tumble towards the safety of the other side of the cavern. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

The club fell upon the small of the dragon's back, the brute force of the blow causing his rear legs to buckle and collapse under the sheer force of the club. Outraged, the ape screamed, before heaving the heavy weapon above his head once more; ready for a second attempt at the dragon's life.

Pushing through the pain, the dragon scrambled out of the way as the club fell once more, hitting the ice with a resounding thud. Seizing his chance, Spyro wound himself up and around the ape as his charge had, being sure that talons, fangs and spikes were all embedded in the ape's flesh. The ape immediately began to thrash about, trying to toss yet another creature off its back.

The dragon did not yield, biding his time as he allowed his magic to gather within him once more.

He shot a quick glance over at his charge, who had been watching the two from across the room. Spyro did not know why, but the Hylian gave him a small nod, before turning away as if to shield himself.

Unable to contain it any longer, the dragon released the magic within him, allowing it to manifest in the physical world as bolts of lightning that danced and ricocheted off the walls of the cavern. He could hear the ape's strangled whimpers as the electricity coursed through its body, robbing it of its strength and life. Spyro mentally cringed as he heard a choked scream coming from the Hylian, assuming that a stray bolt of lightning had struck him.

The carnage continued for several moments; until the ape's last breath had escaped its lips.

The lightning ceased, and the dragon and ape fell to the ground, the latter's body steaming slightly. Not bothering to give the ape a second look, the dragon forced himself over to the Hylian, who had not bothered to get up from his position on the floor.

The dragon fell down next to his charge, slightly curling himself around the bloodied creature in a protective manner. The Hylian did not object.

"…Thank you."

The dragon lifted his head slightly. "Sorry?"

The Hylian sighed slightly. "I said 'Thank you'."

"No problem." The dragon replied, weariness evident within his voice. "I just wish I could've gotten to you sooner."

The dragon paused for a moment.

"Thank you, as well. If it weren't for you that ape would've… well, you know…"

The Hylian shifted a little at the sound of the dragon's voice, before relaxing back into his previous position.

"That's alright… Spyro, isn't it?"

Spyro jumped a little at the sound of his name. "Wha… How do you…?"

"I heard the others talking about you earlier, that's all. My name is Link." The Hylian replied, a soft laugh lacing his words.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you then, Link." The dragon chuckled, continuing their little introduction despite what had just passed.

The bloodied Hylian smiled faintly, before closing his blue eyes, allowing unconsciousness to claim his being once more.

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The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by the sound of familiar voices. At this, the dragon reared his head; it had not been long since him and his charge had finally taken care of the ape, and being unable to treat either of their wounds himself (particularly Link's), Spyro had been left to wallow in thoughts of the worst, leaving him uneasy and restless.

He pushed himself up onto all fours, trying to at least look somewhat presentable to the incoming party, remaining close to his charge all the while.

Cyril was the first to enter, his previously jubilant expression sliding from his face as he took the carnage in. Others followed, their reactions similar to those before them with the exception of Zelda; she had dashed to Link's side as soon as she had caught sight of his sleeping form.

"Spyro, what in the name of the Ancestors happened here?" Cyril asked, shock evident in his voice.

Spyro shifted his gaze towards the fallen ape, allowing his eyes to rest there for several moments.

Cyril made his way over, confusion writing itself into his every feature. He checked the ape over and shook his head.

"It's not even from the faction that I attacked earlier this morning… What on earth would it be doing here?"

Spyro didn't say anything; he had no idea as to why the ape had wandered into the cavern. His charge would have to answer that question, seeing as he was the one out here in the first place.

Cyril sighed. "Meadow, please get Spyro cleaned up and analyse that poison for me. Zelda, would you mind…?"

"Of course not." She replied, deftly heaving the bloody Hylian up onto her shoulder and escorting him to the deeper chambers of the cave.

Cyril turned to Spyro, a somewhat hollow and angry expression painted upon his face.

"We shall discuss this further once Link is well, Spyro."


End file.
