Chapter 1. The Pale Warrior
Disclaimer: I Dardarax do not own Spyro, Cynder, Warfang or any other characters or places that belong to the Spyro franchise. I have however created several characters that will be featured in the upcoming chapter. Try and figure out which ones (they are listed at the bottom).
The full moon rose high in the clear night sky, stars shimmering and dancing over the skies of Warfang. Cool spring air still tinged with the chill of winter blew from the north, causing trees to sway and loose doors to rattle. Flowers had begun to bloom, but had now closed, waiting for the sun to rise.
For Lyrith it was a perfect night for flying. The white dragon stood on the top of a high building, the spring wind blowing around him. He inhaled the fresh air savouring its sweet tang. Lyrith looked down, far below the last of the moles and dragons were returning home from their jobs or chores for a nice long sleep. But for Lyr the Albino, the night held far more excitement than the day. Night shrouded everything with a sense of adventure and mystery, painting the world in a new light. The night was full of adventure, even if you have lived in one place your whole life.
Lyr shook himself and unfurled his wings in preperation for flight. Eight horns crowned his head, six of which swept back, a silver grey in colour, the middle pair were twice the size of the other four. His remaining pair, which were smaller than the others, were two small tusk-like horns that protruded from the base of his skull just behind his jaw. His head was almost heart shaped, ending in a strong muzzle. A thick shield-like plate of scales ran from his nose to his horns, reflecting the moonlight like a mirror.
With his wings spread out, Lyrith looked rather imposing as he perched like a gargoyle on the rooftops. His snow white scales glittering in the light of the moon, countless scars that crisscrossed his form were outlined in the pale light. His tail twitched, its tip ending in a silver spearhead blade. Lyr took another breath, then he launched himself from the roof. Lyrith enjoyed the sensation of rushing through the air, hurtling toward the ground in a barely controlled fall. At the last second he pulled up and he zoomed inches over the heads of a small group of moles, who threw themselves to the ground, shouting in surprise. Lyr laughed as they scrambled to their feet and turned toward the white form of the retreating dragon shouting curses at him. Lyr soared up again his wings beating to maintain height; he swerved around tall buildings and dodged imaginary obstacles.
Lyrith loved flying; he had learned the skill nearly nine years ago without any assistance. He had practiced for months by jumping off a high ledge into a lake, letting instinct and experience be his guide. Lyr was far from stupid; he found a suitable location and learned to swim before he took his first leap. Lyr tried to think of everything through before he made any action, which is more than most other dragons in the orphanage could say.
As the white dragon raced through the sky he mused back to when a youngling had taken it into his head that he could learn to fly all by himself, just like he had. The only difference being that the youngling neglected to have something safe to land in at the bottom. The youngling learned to glide … at the last second, which is probably what saved his life. Lyr shook his head wondering how anyone could be so stupid.
Up ahead Lyrith saw The Dragon's Glade Hatchery, Egg Sitting and Orphanage. Eggs were placed in the east side of the building, were they stayed until they were picked up. If an egg hatched before being picked up they had two weeks to be picked up before being shipped off to the west side of the hatchery, the orphanage. Lyrith had never been picked up. Usually orphans only stayed in The Dragon's Glade for a year or two before being adopted, some unlucky ones stayed up to five years. Lyr's seventeenth hatchday would be in two days. Lyr sighed as he landed. He had never even been considered by adopting dragons; they took one look at him and moved on. Lyr knew why of course, it was because he was a colourless dragon, or an Albino. He'd learned the hard way that colourless dragons weren't exactly appreciated in dragon society.
"Though," Lyr thought to himself as he entered the hatchery. "It could be because I'm ugly." Even as he thought it Lyr dismissed the thought. He had seen far uglier dragons being adopted before they even saw him. And by dragon standards he was apparently fairly attractive, though his red eyes might be a turnoff.
Lyr strode across the swept floor of the Hatchery, to his left a female cheetah secretary looked up at Lyr and called out to him in a cheery voice.
"Welcome back Lyr! How was your flight?"
"Alright." Lyr grunted back, a bare smile creeping over his features.
"I may have no friends among his own kind," Lyr thought as he passed the secretary, "But at least the other races are less judgmental about my colour than the dragons are." Lyr reached the stairs on the west side of the building and began to climb up to his room. As he climbed Lyr looked over into the hatchery. About twenty eggs were kept here on display in their incubators. Half of them were labelled, the labelled ones being egg sat for families too busy to look after an egg themselves, these eggs never went over to the west side.
The other, unlabeled half was up for adoption. These eggs had either been abandoned or their parents had died not long after the egg was laid. Lyr wondered who his parents were, he was sure they were alive. He had been abandoned that was for sure. The glade had found him in the drop off with no gold or information, which meant that they owned him legally. The orphans had to work for the glade to pay the bills after the age of six. Lyr didn't work at the orphanage though; he had acquired his own job a few years back and now worked at the smelters. His job easily paid the bills, with extra pocket change besides. Lyr had a small stash of coins and gems in his room for emergencies or for the rare trip down to the bazaar in the wealthier parts of Warfang.
Not only did Lyr's job at the smelters make him relatively rich by orphan standards, but it also kept him in shape. He worked from ten in the morning to six in the evening. He would sleep till nine, eat fly down to the smelters work for his eight hour shift, then return to the orphanage for dinner. Lyr would then run down to the lake to work out his legs, were he would swim, climb and exercise until sunset and then Lyrith would finish off the day with a night flight and return home to sleep. Most dragons would have seen his life as boring or dull, and Lyr would agree with them. But he also knew that this life was far better than the one he was living previously.
Lyr sighed as he exited the stair case on the next floor and began walking to his room. He didn't like to think much of his childhood; it had been hard and brutal, even here in the relative shelter of the orphanage. He was rather small for his age, and coupled with his colourless scales made him an easy target for bullies. It didn't take him long to learn how to fight back. Lyr began his daily workouts many years ago and behind his white hide thick layers of hard muscle were hiding, barely seen under his scales.
Lyr reached the door to his room, as he moved to open the door he realized it was open a crack. Instantly on alert, Lyr slowly pushed the door open. Usually orphans had to share rooms with each other due to "storage" issues. However because of Lyrith's job at the smelters he was able to afford the extra rent and have a room of his own. This added onto his already large bill of shelter, food and plumbing.
As the door swung open Lyrith caught sight of three figures standing over his precious savings. The chest by the south wall that had previously contained Lyr's hoard lay open. The white dragon growled in anger causing the three figures to jump in surprise.
"Ashe, Bould, Sickle get out of my damned room before I throw you out, and put my stuff back were you found it…NOW!" The three dragons were almost as old as Lyr, though none of the three had lived in the orphanage as long as Lyr had, and had only arrived about a year ago. Ashe was a large red dragon and was considered 'hot stuff' in the orphanage. If there was anyone in the orphanage considered the right drake to be around it was Ashe. His parents died in an Ape war party raid that struck a small settlement about thirty miles east of Warfang.
Ashe frequently boasted about how he, apparently took on half a dozen Apes at once and came out unscathed. He was arrogant and self centered, though still sore about the loss of his parents. Bould, the brown dragon, dumb as a turd and half as pretty, had lost his mother to the plague that broke out in the east recently. His father had abandoned him here, when he could not support his mammoth son. Bould was huge, standing a head and a half taller than Lyr, and as an earth dragon his body strength was almost unmatched. He was of course an absolute moron, and the most intellectual thing he can say is the painfully obvious. Lastly there was Sickle the grey. Allot of mystery surrounded this wind dragon, but one thing was obvious, he was dangerous. Lyrith didn't know if any of the rumours surrounding Sickle were true, but a disturbing number of orphans were convinced that Sickle killed his girlfriend when she refused to put out. As a wind dragon Sickle relied more on speed and agility than strength. Sickle had been abandoned here as well.
"Well, well." Hissed Ashe turning to face Lyr having regained his composure. "It looks like whitey is a little angry that we played with his shinnies."
"Huh, yeah, whitey likes shinnies." Bould grunted, amused, a trickle of drool falling from the corner of his muzzle.
"Come now whitey," Sickle chided playing along. "It's only fair if you share, I mean look how many you have." Sickle trailed his claws through the small pile of coins and gems. "You could live without a few."
Lyr snarled, Ashe and Bould were larger than him despite their similar ages, the Albino wasn't built like most male dragons, he was actually built more like a female, a thin lithe body, only covered in hard slabs of muscle. Sickle was built a bit like Lyr, a lithe thin build for speed, the only difference was that Sickle was larger, yet lacked most of the muscle mass Lyrith had.
The three dragon's intentions were obvious as they moved to surround Lyr and the white mentally kicked himself.
"Ancestors above, I should have never picked that fight with Ashe last week."
Last week, Ashe had been making some nasty comments about Lyr to the other orphans, comments relating to Lyr's parentage, and how he was half dreadwing. Lyr had caught him and returned the favour with some equally nasty comments about Ashes dead parents, such as:
"Your parents are so useless they couldn't fight off two apes hauling shit from a tree."
Lyr had beaten Ashe soundly in the following fight and thought no more of the encounter. Apparently Ashe hadn't, and had brought two friends along.
"Is whitey scared?" Ashe taunted as they encircled Lyr.
"Alright," Lyr thought running battle simulations through his head. "Ashe and Bould will likely attack me from the front, to try and divert my attention from Sickle who will strike from behind. Either he will use his wind element to blow me off my feet, or he will pounce onto my back and throw me off balance. Sickle is weaker than me so he will most likely use his wind element, which would give Ashe and Bould a better chance to attack."
Ashe and Bould charged forward while Sickle got behind Lyr and waited for an opening. Lyr fought them off, batting at the two of them with his claws and wings, always ensuring one of his flanks were open. Ashe found himself being forced back; Lyr's attacks were fast and brutally strong leaving long bloody gashes on his torso. Bould struck hard but Lyr read his attacks and easily evaded, the brown found himself growing increasingly frustrated at the small white who struck with blinding speed and monstrous strength, Bould roared and spat a blast of green energy at the white. Lyrith, who had thought neither would use their element at this close of range was caught off guard and knocked off of his paws. Lyr hissed in pain as he struck the floor and scrambled to his paws.
"Yes!" Hissed Sickle who drew in a deep breath, rearing his head back. Ashe and Bould closed in on Lyr who saw Sickle raising his head to strike. Lyr leaped to the right just as Sickle released his attack, and smiled, seeing his plan coming together.
"Perfect." Lyr laughed silently at the image of Sickle's face as he released the blast where Lyr had been. The blast of wind took the feet out from Ashe and Bould who could not halt their charge in time, and the two crashed to the floor. Lyr extended his claws as he landed and skidded across the ground, turning to face Sickle. Once Lyr had Sickle in his sights he retracted his claws halting his slide, then he pounced. Lyr descended on the grey like a bolt of white lightning, his claws extended and a maniacal grin etched across his face as he slammed into Sickle. The two rolled across the ground, Lyr stopped the roll with him on top of Sickle, who had just enough time to see Lyrith's evil grin, before he griped the greys head in his claws and slammed Sickle's head into the stone floor, once, twice. Lyr stopped to look at the unfocused eyes of the wind dragon, shrugged and brought the count up to three.
Ashe and Bould struggled off the ground and turned to face Lyr who was just getting off of Sickle. The pair looked at the unconscious form of their friend with horror. Lyr whipped around to face them, fangs barred in a wicked grin. He moved forward in a slow, smooth lope low to the ground, a lion stalking two helpless victims. Ashe did not know what happened, one moment they were winning and the suddenly they were on the floor and Sickle had his face firmly implanted in the ground.
Lyr looked between the two of them trying to decide who was next. Ashe was probably the next most dangerous in terms of magic, but Bould was the strongest and would cave Lyr's head in given the chance. Lyr made his decision.
"Hey! Boulder head!" Lyr jeered at the brown, never taking his eyes off the two. "What's it like having a face that looks like an Apes arse?"
Bould roared in anger, and charged at Lyrith. Ashe caught off guard paused a second before charging after the brown, not wanting to be separated from his only remaining ally. Lyr sidestepped the charge, his tail whipped up and wrapped around Bould's neck. Heaving with all of his strength Lyr hauled Bould into an arc, using the brown's forward momentum to power the swing, Lyr turned and hurled Bould at Ashe. Ashe couldn't stop his charge in time, but was able to send a silent prayer to the ancestors before the flying earth dragon slammed into him like a battering ram.
Lyr walked up to the heap of dragons, taking Bould's head he tried to make an imprint of the browns face in the floor… he failed, but managed to make an interesting crunching noise. Lyr moved over to Ashe, gripping him by the horns he hauled the red from beneath the unconscious body of the brown and dragged Ashe up to eye level.
"Now here's the deal Ashe." Lyr whispered into the red dragon's ear menacingly. "You put everything you found back were you found it, and then you will drag your friends back to their rooms. If you do this you will leave this room intact. Understood?"
Ashe nodded, relived he would not be receiving a beating. Lyr dropped Ashe onto the floor and looked around. Aside from the unconscious bodies of dragons and a chastised Ashe putting the pile of coins and crystals away the room was fairly well kept. Between the windows on the south side of the room was an open chest, which Ashe dumped the coins and gems into. In a corner on the opposite side of the room was a pile of cushions that made up Lyr's bed. Lyr returned his gaze to Ashe who was hauling the last of Lyr's savings back into the chest.
"I should probably get a lock for that." Lyrith mused as Ashe dumped the last of the gold into the chest. In the middle of the room was a wooden table surrounded by a few cushions formed Lyr's dining table and study, though it was more for looks and found little use. On the east side of the room stood a small bookshelf, which housed Lyr's impressive collection of six books.
Lyr heard a grunt and looked toward Ashe who was now hauling Bould out the door which lay open on the west side of the room. A few minutes after Ashe had hauled Bould out the door, the red came back, moving the grey form of Sickle with far more ease through the open door. As the red disappeared through the door and slammed it shut Lyrith walked over to the chest on the south side of his room and opened it. A quick look confirmed that all of Lyr's valuables were stored in there.
Lyr snapped the lid of the chest shut and strode over to his bed. He pulled himself up onto the top of the pile, pumping his front paws in an up and down motion as he moulded the shape of the pillows to his liking. Lyr sighed contently as he lay down on the bed. He supposed he didn't have an exciting, adventurous life like Spyro or Cynder. The hero's whose adventures every child had grown up listening to.
"But," Lyr thought as he drifted off to sleep, curled into a tight ball on his pile of colourful cushions.
"It is an adequate life."
High up on a roof a dragon watched the colourless dragon sleep soundly, occasionally twitching as his dreams took hold. She had been watching the whole scene, and at first she had felt pity for the colourless dragon as the three full-fledged dragons closed in on the Albino. Her pity turned into surprise as she watched the apparently outmatched white quickly dispatch his three opponents.
"This Albino could be worth looking into." The dragoness thought. The moon rose above the tall buildings beside her and cast a pale light over her. Red and orange scales flashed in patterns of flames, which seemed to dance in light. She turned her head to face the moon, and the bells that adorned the ends of her two long horns tinkled pleasantly, making the dragoness smile. She got up and stretched her thin lithe body.
"Yes." She mused aloud as she prepared for flight. "That dragon must be tested." She stretched her wings and took off. For a moment her wings blacked out the moon and the whole world seemed to hold its breath as she hung there. Then she flew off toward the palace in the distance that dominated the center of Warfang. Lyr shifted in his sleep, unaware of the change in his life that would soon come.
Characters created by Dardarax:
Mysterious dragoness who's name will not be disclosed at this time.
Well I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Dark Legacy. I know I certainly enjoyed writing it. Please review so I know how I did, it is my first fan fiction, and I would like to hear your opinions. Constructive criticism is welcome. Hate mail is not.
Edit: March 1 2012
Man, looking back on this chapter from more than a year ago, I'm really surprised how much I've changed, both for the better and for the worse (though mostly for the better). I've kept this chapter mostly the same as it was when I first wrote it, but added and changed out a few things. I'll keep its style the same though, even though pretty much every chapter after this one is written in a slightly less personal tone, though I suppose since it's solely from Lyrith's point of view, while all the other chapters mix points of view, that's (slightly) understandable. Anyway, I've spent enough time on this extra author's note. Time to move on.