Chapter 69

“I think we're going the wrong way" Cynder noted with a whisper.

Both male companions supported her statement with a nod, yet there was a girl among their group who showed no remorse for doubts. Iris stormed ahead, what was usually a sensual and proud gait turned into a chaotic hip thrusting more suitable of a long-term cripple finally regaining power over his legs than all respected royal. The determination in her step was so strong that not even walls seemed to bother her. The bump that soon followed made the rest of the group wince and urged their eyes for instinctive search for any leftover brain cells on the floor.

“Fuck you!" Iris roared not even bothered by the cut on her head.

Stream of chilling ice blasted from her mouth, it splashed against the stone, forming an image that her troubled mind took for a grinning, mocking maw. A face as grotesque as her proclaimed hatching. The girl threw herself at the wall, the freezing shards gave away under the strength of her blows, flopping down on the ground one icy patch after another. Iris felt as if she would be peeling off her own scales. A once horrendous idea now felt as one of most justified actions one could imagine. To wound her body that she even herself considered to be a work of art was the greatest sins of all. Today nothing remained of that reluctance, this flesh she wears was no different from a suit of armor a retarded child makes out of cardboard. Her claws struck raw stone eventually, every tip sank deep into the rock as if nothing more than a thick slab of butter. However, as everything in Iris' life lately, this metaphor turned out to be fake as well. Every blade bent like a forcefully pressed pencil that was about to break, the curve seemed to reach up to the girl's very foretoes. And then the silvery weapons bounced back, the force shoved Iris away from the wall. Scales shattered on her draconic fingers, each claw shook in its scaly foundation with a grace of a twitching glass at the edge of shattering. The only thing that broke though was the soft tissue on the toes surrounding her natural weaponry. Iris' forelegs immediately started turning red from all the dripping blood gathering on the base of her claws. The girl dropped on her butt and looked at the flowing blood with awe almost worthy of a converted faithful. To feel that hot stream on her legs paired with growing bolts of pain seemed so unreal to her. All these delusions of grandeur, fantasies about loving and caring motherhood, even fanatical certainty about the reality of her origins. All of it was a lie. Yet among every thing that turned out to be fake was also a single little oddity that also accompanied her since forever. Pain. And it of course, couldn't be more real than it was today.

Iris bit into her toes, the crunch that followed made the rest of the group yelp painfully.

“Fucking shit! Stop!" Spyro jumped ahead with a shaky roar. Each word spurted out in between vomit inducing burps.

He slammed into the girl, aiming right at the ribcage. Iris coughed a shallow breath after losing air in her lungs suddenly. Spyro took advantage of this opportunity and with no care in this world gave her mouth a solid smack to throw her head sideways before placing his form between her maw and bleeding paws. He immediately cradled the tormented toes, ignoring the blood flowing in between his draconic fingers he jerked his rump back to give Iris that necessary bump to keep her away. Before she could bite he shoved his tail into her mouth, he could barely feel her fangs. Nothing interested him more right now than these white toes. He kept them tight, recalling in his mind everything he could to once more stir those unexpected powers like when he sew Iris' slit throat. Truth be told he couldn't really feel if anything was happening. While he fought desperately to channel that special Aether his thoughts kept buzzing around the recent events. That ominous creation they just shattered was a thing of nightmares. It was like an open stomach mashed together from random flesh rats usually feast on. An abomination so horrendous that he jumped on the first opportunity where he could bring any light to this world as if it would be his last stand against some encroaching darkness. Athron guided them right to it and if they wouldn't resist eating that meat or have Iris as their symbol of madness they might have added their own cells to that brine of gore. Such a powerful tool capable of copying everything it possessed, a single device strong enough to rise armies or cities alike craved them to be its additions to increase its potential. A desire worth chasing for any callous leader even her own blood despises. It lay in shambles now and yet Athron's maddened wails didn't resonate anywhere. And in this city full of invisible, hostile ears and eyes Spyro was certain that at least one of them wouldn't allow for such an occurrence to just slip away.

The Queen of this place was silent.

Spyro could tell that every single one of these headless witnesses was prying into his neighbor for answers to this unthinkable serenity. In a place filled with power lusting individuals there was no soul bright enough to see past the shadows. Environments led by darkness must always carry motivations forsaken by society. Creatures of this coffin called Skyward were too blind to notice nuances. They were too adjusted to the night to see that for the gloom to cast its shadows there first needs to be a brisk of light.

The beating heart in his purple body to the pace of his wonderful mate is prime evidence that dusk cannot exist without dawn. Even a world bathed in horror is capable of birthing a brighter speck, no matter how twisted, to justify its existence. This beating heart, called even gold by the one it cherishes the most, can't simply allow such dust to fade away. Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue. And it was only for the draconic owner of this heart to decide, if the intentions of the one who sent them here weren't just as perfectly shrouded as her desperate soul was.

“Everything is okay. Just calm down." Though Spyro sounded rather serene his jumping eyes betrayed his nervousness.

He glanced between his clenched, bloody fists and his brother. Indicating with some quick nods and quiet hisses that he could use another set of eyes watching Iris. Sparx understood the signal immediately. It wasn't difficult considering that many others would also beg for assistance if they had a basically feral girl and her teeth right next to their butts. The dragonfly descended right away and gave Iris a quick wake up slap. Closing fangs snapped right behind him and though his trick worked and he gained her attention, it was also in this moment when his heart made a flip. Iris wasn't the only dragoness who threatened to eat him, neither she was the first when it came to snarling at him. Yet it was the first time when he felt no restraint behind that lunging mouth. The girl's locking teeth left a chilling mark on his spine that he could only compare to a dropping guillotine's blade sliding down his back. He really wished in this very moment that Spyro would forget about his heroic morality and for once just let it go.

The purple dragon had no intention of doing so however. He cradled the blue toes with all his might, focusing all his energy on his bloodied fists as if they were some holy grail with the power to open the gates to the very real of the Ancestors. Spyro wasn't as devoted as some priests of Warfang, he took a peek inside the cage of draconic fingers, hoping to see some sliver of healing light despite his lack of willpower. There was none to be found, yet in this moment of rising disappointment he also managed to notice that there was no other color breaking through all the crimson. The bone was intact.

“Cynder help Sparx please. Iris might need a slightly more prominent form to vent out all her pain and anger. Sorry." Spyro whimpered in a begging manner. A flaming tentacle wafted from his nose.

She obeyed without a second thought. He could only blink in thanking manner seeing Cynder move behind his shoulders. He will probably never get used to asking her to channel into her trauma, just as like he will never stop loving her for all the effort to maintain the integrity of his golden heart. With each passing day Cynder assures him that his heart would have a better home in the cradle of her paws than it ever had inside his chest.

Spyro scooped the flame with his tongue. It wiggled from the tip like an elastic welding rod. He gripped Iris' forelegs tightly and glazed over the begging of the first cut. Iris roared and cursed behind him, she thrashed around, but his jerked up posture together with his helping friends managed to keep her fury from his rump. If she would bite him now he was certain Iris would pull out his spine through his ass. With that force in mind he wondered how can all these toes still be intact. Iris didn't held back when she bit in them and while draconic bodies are not so easy to dismember, toes, like any other finger, are the most squishy parts of their frames. At least one should snap. Did Aether work after all? He as sure felt like he didn't do anything extraordinary here, but Warfang proved again and again that one doesn't need to be a witness to state, that with enough faith miracles do happen.

There might be another explanation here that he is missing here, or perhaps it was mere luck and fate decided that Iris' toes will still serve her in the upcoming future. And that last thing Spyro was sure existed. He witnessed that himself and without a doubt it was something worth fighting for even if we don't see the end of the darkness today. The hell in one's head will be nothing compared to the soul it couldn't kill.

Spyro made a perfect circle around the bleeding toes. Smell of cauterized flesh and boiled blood filled the air. It was a smell like no other, with some special properties when it came to silencing screams when paired with some chill. Spyro immediately breathed some ice onto the sealed wound and as expected the combination of two forces of nature supposedly hostile to each other worked wonders. Iris calmed down, he still wasn't confident enough to let her go, but at least Sparx gave him the sign showing that no teeth are incoming towards his rump anytime soon. And in Iris' case that was the most formidable display of gratitude.

“I know it might sounds weird, but what you just learned Iris may not be as bad as you think." Spyro noted as politely as he could.

Cynder and Sparx shook their heads in unison.

He felt movement behind his shoulder. Iris readjusted her position, while it still was far too uncomfortable for her to try any biting, she made sure that her constant pressure will not allow him to forget about her.

“You better hold onto those claws of mine Goldie." Iris growled. It would be almost sensual if Spyro wouldn't know that in the girl's case affection can be as destructive as aggression. “Cause the moment you let them go I'll pluck your eyes out."

“Look." The dragon gulped at the sight of the claws twitching. “I really need some time to get the hang of all this cheering up stuff, but I really mean it. If you think about it-

“Do you remember your hatching?" Iris cut him off.

“Umm…vaguely."

“I don't at all. Every dragon I've met remembered some part of their arrival on this world. Besides me. It's through this process they say that children learn to value life. Earn that crucial determination to fight for it after spending their beginnings locked in darkness just to finally crack one of its many shells. Is it true?"

“Whoa…I…" Spyro had to really hold himself back from scratching his chin on Iris' held claws “…I never thought about it to be honest. Might be a little too far fetched in my opinion."

Iris snarled in disdain and nodded at the dragonfly.

“You. Fly. You see more than that good natured fool. Have you ever considered me to be more than just a crazy, angry bitch?"

“No." Sparx replied unhesitatingly.

Gasps came from all the dragons. Disappointed intertwined itself with pure shock when it came to Spyro and Cynder. One didn't expect him to offer such a direct, honest answer without a joke wrapped in there somewhere, while the other felt completely betrayed. He understood their reactions, what however surprised him the most was the sight of fading hope in Iris' eyes. He no longer wondered why Coriza values honesty so much. Folks are just not used to hearing the truth. Daily life is made out of small lies and forced smiles, nobody ever speaks his mind openly, and while he considered his natural sarcastic wit as his own craft, it clearly was just another way of him adopting to the rules of society. Honesty basically murdered Iris right here, he couldn't even begin to imagine what it could lead to if the whole world followed in his wake. Yet for all its destructive potential, truth, wouldn't be valued by the most purest girl he ever met if it wasn't a blessing as well.

Sparx lifted his eyes and aimed them at the one who was the miraculous evidence that speaking your mind is truly a divine grace. He met Cynder's gaze, her emerald orbs shined the moment she read his mind like an open book. She started to smile, her mouth began moving slightly, from her very lips he could read the words his tongue was just forming. And the blush that started to break through the black of her scales was more inviting than the trail of smell left by a pie.

“But that doesn't mean I cannot make mistakes." Sparx intoned deeply. His voice resonating with a beautiful echo of the one whispering in his wake.

Iris twirled her head in such a way that many would mistake her horns for perking ears. It was a sight Sparx remembered all too well. In fact he could see the memory replaying itself right before his eyes right now. The girl's blue snout turned black, white of her scales simmered with magenta touch of a dragoness that seemed to finally understand that the thing that crunches under her paws is called ground. Such meaningless details one might think, and yet the day when Cynder found her footing on this earth after hearing some speck of honesty during another of their stupid arguments was a moment that marked a turning point in their lives. He lacked the strength of the two of his favorite dragons, he was just a tiny dragonfly with a big mouth, things that to him seem colossal, to the majority of souls living on this soil are just trifles. This is what made him appreciate times like this. And since he served as Spyros's guide most of his life, such sights to him were equivalent of finding a crossroad after trudging along a single path for too long. Crossroads were nice. They didn't always lead towards a better fortune, but they always marked the moment of change. And this is always welcome when you are rolling down a steep hill. He took a different path with Cynder back when took advantage of the earth for the first time. Hateful enemies became friends, and to the obliviousness of this pretty girl serving as his companion, they even formed a family.

Iris had beaten a similar crossroad right now. A walking exhibit, a toy and a treasure everyone desired and despised at the same time. For all her talk about uniqueness and superiority she turned out to be exactly what everyone envisioned her to be. Property. Predictable, exquisite and totally there to serve any perverse need of the one she now belongs to. Despite her protests and imagined will, she fulfilled that unspoken destiny to the latter. Treating all those voices mocking her for dependency as some royal whim. In truth everyone knew what she was, a fucking golem made out of guts to satisfy every carnal need. Without will. Without determination. Without purpose. A crying, always yelling and bordering on insanity puppet. With no hope for the better. Until now.

This trio of idiots was a bunch that got on her nerves. Tat with her insufferable appeal that ransacked her own delusional authority and allure. Cynder was like that big sister she saw sometimes running around a younger sibling and stealing all the attention and glory. Goldie with his annoying commitment to become the world's saint which only wasted time and gave her a false sense of worth. The same Spyro who for all his idiotic determination manifested basked in holy light as a true idol from fantasies with all their perks and none of the flaws. And finally the damn Fly with his bulging and prying eyes constantly looking for nooks and crannies to expose her the strings hidden inside the cracks. Sparx who gave true meaning to his name by finding an opening and delivering light to a heart encased in ice since she could remember.

Iris was losing memories of this place, home and motherly embrace she so craved to feel again was slipping her mind the longer she stayed in Skyward. It was scary and irritating, or so she thought then. Now however? Maybe there was nothing to hold on to anyway.

“I can assure you princess, that I actually was never wrong about this frown." Sparx nodded with a smirk.

Iris could basically feel the whip of air caused by his moving chin bumping her right across the forehead. She buried her nose into her shoulder instinctively. Uncertain if she was more terrified or depressed to find ridges there. Another met expectation. And she provoked it herself.

“There is nothing wrong with being pissed and sad, we all go through the same stuff. Thing is princess." Sparx pointed with his thumb at his chest “This dragonfly seen its share of what folks believe to be evil and unfair and trust me, in most cases it's more complicated than it seems." He smiled encouragingly. “Give my bro a chance and listen to what he has to say. Don't get mad if he mutters nonsense in the meantime, he learned to read just a year ago."

“Haha!" Cynder giggled “Finally some word of confidence around this place. Go on Spyro. Sparx' got you covered!"

Laughter. What a wonderful sound it was. Spyro would have preferred not to be the clown of this show, but then again he couldn't be picky. Not with family like Sparx. He only wished it could stay like this forever.

He sighed, and yet no matter how hard he tried to sound displeased, notes of a chuckle managed to hum in his breath.

“What I meant is that your mother Iris didn't necessarily mean to hurt you." Spyro let go off the claws and despite their promised behavior, they didn't lunge at his eyes. “This is not an easy world to live in. There is unending fight raging outside, yet your mother adjusted this reality so she can raise life. Sure, all of this is morally questionable, probably worthy of damnation, but it's the price your mother decided to pay and despite knowing the cost she did her best to keep you away from following in her footsteps."

Spyro poked the deadly blades on the girl's toes. Even though he put much effort in this little bump he still scratched himself on their sharp edges.

“Not once your impatient claws lunged at her. That means Athron raised you well. Whatever flaws your odd birthing might have brought, whatever artificiality it entailed, all the care your mother offered you was as worthy as any biological mom could give. I don't know my real parents, I was adopted by two dragonflies and you know what? I turned out okay. You did too considering all the memories you have of Athron. Such care cannot be faked and it deserves at least to be heard. Family is more than just blood and if I might be so bold as to offer my advice."

Spyro looked at his brother and mate. Two walking symbols of his changed life. Two individuals with baggage so heavy that it shapes reality around him without his will. Danger and care intertwine with each other in a loop so chaotic that it would be an nightmare for every elder wanting only peace and quiet. Struggles, victories, defeats and glee, they all are weighted down by it in equal measure. Yet despite it all, despite that tiny part of him still longing for serenity of solitude, he wouldn't change this for anything else.

“Despite the flaws, all implications of family are worth chasing. Regret will eat you alive if you won't at least try."

Tutoring. Of course, how could it be any other way. Imbeciles pretending to know everything always speak up when in company of someone they see as downtrodden. Fucking parasites who just have to waggle their tongues in pretended care, worms like that cannot resist the opportunity to stuff their mouth on someone's worse moment. Iris couldn't even remember all the slobbering idiots who so desperately wanted to offer their support whenever they smelled the opportunity to get on her good side. The thought alone that even such pathetic fools sensed that she was a damned toy made her sick. She should feel exactly the same way here. There was something about Goldie's case however that made him stand out from the rest. He alone didn't wrap his words in only sweet crust, he knew Athron did nothing good, and no matter the intentions her actions were still rotten to the core. She wouldn't even bother chasing that speck of light he mentioned if not for feeling this very spark still heating up her neck. It was the last touch of life her fake body felt for years.

“Let me go." Iris stated calmly.

Spyro exchanged quick glances with his friends. They both nodded reluctantly. It was better than nothing. He released his grip on the girl, to his surprise Iris didn't move until she was completely free. It was strange to see her being serene so quickly. Iris pulled herself up, she didn't even bother taking care of her disheveled feathers. Eyes aimed at the ice touched wall, the fading face there became nothing more than jagged stones. Among them glittered gems resembling tiny eyeballs, their shine made the rocks look like teeth. It wasn't grinning this time. Once she would feel satisfaction because of it, alas it represented just another idiot who believed he could force her into submission. Now it didn't interest her at all. The eyes shining from between the cracks, the turns and doors that keep slipping from her mind. All this forgetfulness would make her wild back in the day. Now, a fake that she is has no need for such details, her birthright didn't exist, her royal origins were just fantasy. If all this is going to fade then so be it. A life born out of nothingness has to end the same way. It was time to bury this place. Together with her so called mother if need be. The care she needed touched her neckline right before entering this fucking coffin. It was more real than anything else her mind clang to lately and all demons be damned, did it feel good to sense something true in this ugly existence she called life.

Iris spat at the blinking eyes and turned around. She graced Spyro with a brief look, he offered her a small smile in return. Same thing did the other two cretins. Family might be worth chasing after all, even though she would prefer to turn this place into an ice cube right now.

“Fine you fools." Iris hissed. “But if I won't like it I'll be venting my rage on your assess."

*

It might have only been their imagination, due to recent events their border for the unthinkable shifted quite considerably, yet they all thought that Skyward was undulating. Slowly, with effort, like a clogged vein. Bloody petals so badly despised in the Upper City found enough space to squeeze through. Impossible to notice spots were so tiny that these crimson objects looked like pieces of paper being crammed through an opening. Iris attentively examined the scenery. While Skyward wasn't the city she remembered, in this very moment it shared some semblance with her own Identity. Memories and thoughts shook in the same way in her shattered mind. She never got used to this feeling, yet became accustomed with it enough to avoid total panic. Many who experience this breaking for the first time won't have her resistance, they will rush blindly, craving answers to questions that will never help them. They will fall apart and there was no turning back from that. She could feel them somewhere out there, her lifeless siblings reached out for sparks of existence they will never touch. There was only one purple idol and he belonged to her right now. Too bad for you motherfuckers. Still it was still better to avoid desperation when it was possible, especially when it amassed in one place.

“We won't go to the main entrance. It's too crowded." Iris noted coldly.

“What are you talking about?" Sparx frowned and narrowed his eyes ahead “Even I don't see anyone nearby."

“She's right." Cynder joined in with a slight shiver in her voice.

She wasn't sure if this was still the meat effect on her, or the experience of having Creep rattling inside her head, but she could feel tingles running through her body as if hundreds of fingers would be trailing paths across her scales. It was a strange sensation, even weirder than their meeting with that strange crystal. Everything was different in its presence, the tugs at her body were stronger just like an aggressive puppeteer would be tugging at the ropes of his toy with all his might. Now? It was a mere pinch, no different from slipping hands of a drowning person trying to get a hold of a board with his almost used up strength.

“I feel some presence there too. Like all the crap swirling in that hellish thing, but much weaker."

“What?" Sparx blurted “That makes no sense. That damn thing with all its crazy copies is nothing but a puddle now. You must be oversensitive or something, you can't sense them because that would mean that not only our princess has an altered hatching, but also the-Oh shit." The dragonfly gulped. His eyes kept growing in accordance with the moving saliva down his throat.

“Yeah" Cynder scratched her choker after her tiny whimper. “Athron didn't give that thing a break. This is so creepy. No offense Iris."

“This way" Iris ordered with a small growl.

Back in the days she would teach Tat some respect, but now there was no point in demanding one when she didn't have any for herself. Quintessence of her new approach was the willingness to lead the group through the same secret passage she used with Ignus of this world. Funny how fate sometimes mocks you. Path that finally evolved into a memory of self loathing and broken spirit now will be their only way into the castle. Path to a new future. Fitting how for a creature like her deprived of any dignity, the only corridor being the pit that feasted on respect becomes their salvation. As expected nobody was stationed near the entrance. Iris led the group smoothly through the tunnels and despite her fading memories of this place, this particular path her body remembered all too well. Her so called uncle always had a way to mark her with unforgettable scars.

The group finally popped on the other side. Iris stepped inside her room and casually looked around. These once familiar walls smelled rotten, she could see the same faces plastered on them that mocked her just not so long ago. Sense of duty wasn't much of an advisor when it came to her life decisions, but she still understood the weight of priority. And being so close to the one responsible for her misery was a very leash to keep her strength in check.

“Where are we?" Spyro asked. He didn't have much taste for interior design, yet a room with a secret passage leading to it couldn't really escape his curious nature.

“In a pit I once called my room." Iris answered icily.

“You had a secret tunnel into your room? A princess like you? I wouldn't have thought that someone like you needed one, you could have anything you wanted. Not to mention that I wouldn't even guess that you knew about a passage leading to your room. I can imagine secret passages as escape routes, Warfang has one like that too, but one leading to someone's private quarters? Sounds dangerous."

“Existence filled with glamor and safety starts to wear on a young soul knowing nothing about reality. Danger and vice become some exciting addictions for a spoiled girl. Realization that it is wrong comes way too late to repair the damage such meager willpower caused."

Spyro nodded. Iris wasn't the one to share her thoughts so willingly, but when she finally did he couldn't find in him enough courage to ask further questions. Though her speech was emotionless, he knew enough about trauma thanks to Cynder to realize that it was better to let it run its course. He cannot fix what broke, this is on Iris' shoulders alone. Yet seeing the freezing chill cracking inside her eyes he was quite certain she had no healing in mind. As if what she recalled was just like a story she read in some book and not her life. Just this thought was enough for Spyro to believe that the path Iris is walking doesn't necessarily lead to recovery.

And when she finally opened the door leading to the hall, what before was just hunch quickly turned into reality. Bodies littered the lower ground of the castle. Peacekeepers, citizens seen on the lower levels, royals and even some of their guard piled up together almost in a single spot. There were no signs of fighting, no blood and magical burn marks on the walls. They looked as if they all died at the same time, no different from toys being cast in the corner after they no longer brought joy. Though they all wore different garments, the group couldn't help themselves from missing some of the corpses among the pile, taking them for some disjointed limbs of another body. Only on closer inspection it turned out that their errors weren't truly flaws of perception. Every corpse carried the same wound, a big hole dissolved like from some acid ate through the scales right at the side of the chest. No guts and blood spilled from the opening though, but a crimson mush that from distance looked like wet clay. Not only it ripped the torsos, but it also turned every limb it touched into this specific dust. This horrid image only became worse when the group focused on the eyes of some of the deceased. Windows to one's soul lacked any manner of sentient characteristic that even in death mark someone as a living, thinking creature. Completely red, resembling stones eyes looked like overgrown buttons.

Iris reached towards her own face, breathing a layer of ice on her paw before it arrived before her nose. She looked at her own reflection, she examined herself with trembling lips. Her attention aimed especially at the eyes, carefully following each tweak of the pupils within. There were no signs of strings, no twine tugging at the orbs. Windows to her frozen soul stood open before her and while many considered it vile and disgusting, it was still life more formidable than any of the fallen puppets below even tasted. Why?

“How are you feeling Iris?"

Even though it was Spyro who voiced concern, both Sparx and Cynder could easily recite the same words. They all watched the girl, seeing the broken corpses that were no different from manufactured, faulty product made them consider the same, upcoming future for the one sharing similar traits with them.

“None of your damn business." Iris snapped back, slamming down her paw so strongly that she felt a jolt of pain cracking along her limb.

The trio exhaled in relief. This was a good sign. No matter their attachment to the dragoness, the ugly fate of the corpses below wasn't a death they would wish even on their worst enemy.

This ominous silence didn't last for long. The cold walls of the castle transported the sound without effort. Something that in any other place would border on incomprehensible whisper resounded here as if everything would be happening right behind the wall. Rattling of doors, grunts and occasional female laughter followed by a crack of thunder, this and many more sounds bounced about the castle's cold frame. The noise was so strong that one might think that the entire city tried to burst into the queen's hall.

“Motherfuckers." Iris hissed. “Get your ass ready Goldie. You're going melt those fuckers down. Nobody is going to waste our time."

“No. I can't." Spyro retorted confidently.

“The hell you mean you can't? Blast them like the damn creeps we had to deal with when busting that wind freak out. We can take them out."

“ I won't be mass slaughtering dragons. They are our kin."

“Did you have your nose up Tat's ass this whole time that you're spurting such crap right now?" Iris strode towards Spyro with a furious growl. “Your moronic phases are pissing me off. I swear if you wouldn't be so useful I would have already gutted you. We are going to tear apart those fucking puppets."

“I said I won't a-“

“Those aren't dragons you idiot!" the girl cried out. After such a whimper many would expect to spot tears glistening in the eyes, but in Iris' case the only thing that came out of them were tiny, deadly shards of ice. “Fucking abominations and nothing else. Toys that reach their expiration date, they'll be dust soon anyway."

“Then why are you still standing?"

The calm question struck her like a golem's fist. It squeezed all breath out of her in an instant, so fierce was the blow that for a moment the world darkened before her eyes. And when it returned anew the only darkness she sensed was located inside her skull. She didn't know the answer to this question. Many of these citizens were most likely being replaced regularly when others perish during this constant warfare that ravages this world. In fact now when she thinks of it there weren't many children when she was growing up. She however was one such child, she perfectly remembered the times of her maturing, this couldn't have been an illusions, the habits she learned back then stayed with her to this very day. That means she was older than any of the dragons of now, not to mention that the crystal no longer existed in her timeline. She would definitely notice it. Then how come she still breaths?

“No matter your origins you are still my species Iris. You live for some reason. Maybe there is someone in that group who shares the same fate as yours. I won't end their existence just because they are scared. If I learned anything in my life then it is that fear is the epitome of will and individuality. We can use our power in other way to get inside."

“Our former prison." Cynder chimed in. Quickly catching onto the brewing plan.

Spyro nodded and this time he took the lead. Iris followed obediently, it was so strange to have her so supportive of his idea that he almost forgot how his legs work. He pushed through the confusion and took his friends to the very wall he once wished to be the main opponent for their power instead of dragons. Both Spyro and Cynder inhaled and moments later their mouth cracked purple. Streams of Convexity blasted from their mouths. The hit wall flashed bright green. They could swear they've seen a surprised maw projecting itself on the cold stone before the entire façade collapsed into rubble. Among the overwhelming noise this here sound was just a mere rattle inside an already busy hornet nest.

Iris gazed at the pair with renewed awe. Something unthinkable for an arrogant royal had no effect on her now considering that she was nothing more than someone's doll. She had no idea why she looked at the duo with such regard, they displayed they prowess already after all. But there was something unique about their powers, something that wasn't present in anyone else. Uniqueness lately felt to her like her royal bloodline. In the end she too was special and as someone smart said not so long ago – family might be worth fighting for.

The draining walls that once feasted on their essence didn't seem to be interested in them at all. The greenish hue embracing the walls wasn't as strong as the last time they remembered. They weren't quite sure if this was a good sign, but with their path being set before them there wasn't much they could do about it.

“Get out!" a triumphant cry echoed in the corridor after leaving their former prison. A sizzling crack followed soon after. Sparks of yellow electricity slipped inside the hall the group was in. Seeing them the team had no troubles identifying to whom they belong to.

And judging from the jovial cry worthy only of the most loyal soldiers, they could also easily predict what face their next obstacle will wear.