Author's Note: I've been working on these oneshots for two days now. I already have one with a gigantic author's note, even though this one will probably be the first one I submit into this collection. Anyway, for those of you on , I have been here before, but under a different account – what account that is I'll never tell you. For DeviantART, here's another one coming for you – this one wasn't randomly generated as far as words go. Whoops, I cheated. Sorry.
This prompt is "Nightmare." I came up with this idea when I was randomly thinking of random words for no reason. (Hey, I was bored! Can't a human being be bored once in her life?)
Disclaimer: If I owned the Legend of Spyro, I would order the actual creators to stop hinting that Ignitus is Spyro's father and just say it already!
He was exposed to the biting, whipping wind.
It did not faze him.
He stared, eyes fixed, at an indefinite point outside of the Temple.
He was thinking. He was thinking of the war, collapsing all he knew around him, with all the apes, with the Dark Master planning on destroying the world, with the impending threat of Cynder flying through the skies… it all was hard to deal with.
And then, a scream.
Ignitus blinked. He looked back into the Temple, seeing the sleeping form of Sparx nearby a part of the entrance. He ignored the dragonfly for now and entered the Temple, trying to find the source of the noise.
And then, crying.
He poked his head into a certain room within the Temple, to be greeted with the sight of the young purple dragon he had been caring for. His trembling form, his eyes wide open in shock, told Ignitus that the purple dragon was awake.
It wasn't a time for panic, but… Did Spyro spot something? He looked around; he saw no danger.
And then, a heavy silence.
He met the terrified gaze of the young dragon, feeling an icicle pierce his heart at the sight of the young dragon so frightened. He seemed to have encounter the fear that ordinary dragons would not encounter for many years, and his eyes told of a foreboding sense that something bad was to happen.
"D-Did I wake you?" The voice was soft, faltering. Ignitus still caught it with his ears. He frowned, approaching the purple dragon, who automatically sat up like as if they were to start a training session. It was in the middle of the night; Ignitus wasn't that crazy.
"I was already awake, young dragon," Ignitus reassured him. Spyro slumped his shoulders, staring at the ground, his wings drawing inward like as if to shield him from the world around him, including Ignitus himself. "What seems to be troubling you?"
For a while all he heard was Spyro's agonized breaths, and Ignitus found himself wanting it more to be silent than to hear that. Each breath became slower and deeper, as Spyro tried to calm himself with medium success. He didn't seem to want to worry Ignitus, but it was too late for that; the Guardian Dragon was constantly worried about his safety, and this was one of those times where he couldn't possibly worry any more.
"It was just a nightmare," Spyro said decisively, like as if it had been a big decision figuring out what exactly to say. Ignitus frowned. He could not accept that as an answer.
"Are you afraid?" He seated himself in front of Spyro, gazing into the smaller's shining purple eyes, even though they were trained purposely on the floor.
And then, a hoarse whisper.
"What am I going to do?"
Spyro gasped as he felt the contact of Ignitus's wing on his back, drawing him closer to the larger dragon. The wing seemed almost protective, as if guarding him from the world, from secrets that he did not wish the younger dragon to learn. Compassionate eyes were focused on the purple dragon, and he met them, eyes still shimmering with unshed tears of fear.
"Everyone fears something, Spyro," Ignitus breathed. "If you didn't have fear, I would be concerned. But… Spyro…" He was shocked by the sincerity of the elder dragon's voice. "I will not force you to do anything. But if you wish to go on and fight this war, I will back you up. I will protect you, no matter what it takes."
The younger dragon seemed to search for any sort of lie from Ignitus, but he would be satisfied in finding that there was none. His gaze once again returned to the floor, as if it contained the answers to his doubts and fears. Or if it would tell him if Ignitus was actually telling the truth.
His head brushed Ignitus's wing as he drew himself within. He rested his head against Ignitus's side, as if tucking into bed or hiding his face within his father's shoulder, like as if he had just seen something terrible and was trying to hide the truth with the comfort of his father's embrace. He practically clinged to Ignitus, willing the larger dragon not to leave him, to stay with him through the dawn of time.
That's what I always wanted to hear, and yet… it's what I've always been afraid of.
It's best I don't tell him what the nightmare was actually about.