The Eternal Fight

The Chronicler looked up, his perception expanding, as he examined the small purple dragon who had just entered the realm connected to dreams, the mind, and to Aether itself.

“Spyro?” he asked, exerting his mind to speak to the destined dragon. “Is something wrong? I had not expected you to-”

“Okay, what is up, exactly?” Spyro interrupted, jumping up and down on one of the floating rocks that were common in this shadow of Convexity.

“...what is up?” the Chronicler repeated. “I fail to grasp your meaning, Spyro.”

“I mean, what happened?” Spyro asked. “What changed? It’s a nightmare out there!”

The Chronicler was silent for a moment, as he tried to process what that meant.

“...you mean… when you are not sleeping?” he asked. “Because normally nightmares take place when you are asleep-”

“I know what I mean and so should you!” Spyro declared, tail lashing. “Fighting my way through the ape armies to rescue the Guardians was – okay, it was difficult, and a struggle, but by the end of it I’d got the hang of it! And I spent all the time between then and now training with Ignitus and Cynder and the others, and – and now the apes are repeatedly kicking my ass!”

He shook his head, subsiding, and sighed. “I don’t get it, but I can tell something has changed.”

“Are you sure, Spyro?” the Chronicler said, frowning, not that Spyro could see that because this was a sort of astral-projection mental-voice kind of deal.

He wasn’t even clear on if Spyro knew that he was a fellow dragon.

“About as sure as I can be,” Spyro replied. “It’s… several times now I’ve been set on by apes and beaten up relentlessly until I’m about to pass out, and Sparx has to drag me out of danger until I recover, but by the time I’ve recovered so have the apes and I feel like sooner or later that’s just not going to work!”

The Chronicler tilted his head slightly.

“Give me a minute, Spyro,” he said. “I will examine the Books of Time. They may hold the answer.”

Spyro was in the middle of trying to work out if his dreamscape had recognizable constellations, or if it was all in his head, when the Chronicler spoke again.

“Spyro, I believe I have the answer,” he said. “It is an aspect of your power over time. You will need to use your ability to rewind time and try the same battle multiple times until you get it exactly right.”

“...you’re sure?” Spyro asked. “Because it sounds like that’s going to hurt. And I don’t know if I can even do that.”

“According to this, you should be able to,” the Chronicler frowned. “Hmm. Apparently it involves the use of something called a save state…”

There was the sound of turning pages.

“Ah, this might help,” the Chronicler said. “Spyro – as a dragon with the ability to control time, I require you to tell me that you wish to look into the future.”

“...all right,” Spyro decided. “Ignitus trusts you, so… I wish to look into the future.”

Another page turned.

“Here is my solution for you,” the Storyteller said. “First, stand very still, as if you were about to contemplate your magic.”

“Got it,” Spyro said, his paws in a neat rectangle.

“Now, I will need you to do the following things even if you do not feel capable of them,” the Chronicler went on. “Success is not required, merely attempting it. But you must follow the instructions exactly.”

Spyro was ready to try anything at this point, and nodded slightly.

“Ask me to get on with it,” the Chronicler said.

“...get on with it,” Spyro repeated.

“Activate your Fury,” the Chronicler said next. “Twice.”

Spyro didn’t have a Fury ready, but he twitched the part of his mind that would let him do it anyway. His muscles tingled with the hot energy of fire, but it didn’t activate the surging explosion that came with the full expression of his powers.

“Now, tell me to get on with it again,” the Chronicler requested.

“Get on with it!” Spyro said, a little more forcefully this time.

“Switch to your earth powers,” the Chronicler told him, and Spyro did just as he was asked. “Electricity. Electricity again. Earth. Now use your Fury. Now tell me to get on with it. Now charge. Use Dragon Time. And focus as if meditating… and you should be done.”

Spyro had nearly fallen off the platform, and he shook himself.

“So… what did all that do?” he asked. “It seemed like nonsense.”

“In my research, I found that your adventure began too early, before it was properly finished,” the Chronicler told him.

“You mean… before I was ready?” Spyro asked, confused.

“No,” the Chronicler told him. “So I read ahead by a page and read off all the things that I asked you to do. And now I’m reading this conversation off the page as well… anyway, according to this, it should have made you unable to be physically injured.”

Spyro blinked.

“Seriously?” he asked. “That sounds… incredibly useful. If… tedious to do.”

He frowned. “Does Malefor know about this?”

“No,” the Chronicler replied. “Though he may have something similar. Good luck, Spyro.”

Spyro was about to leave, by waking himself up, then paused.

“...can you do the same thing to my breath?” he asked. “I keep running out really easily.”

“I suspect I’m going to get in trouble for this, but… apparently yes,” the Chronicler replied.

Not giving up on you.

Just in case, they're talking about Leo's kraang alter ego. A few posts where I've been foreshadowing or showing him: Here, here and here.

A bit of Ana's lore and a little easter egg (i wonder if someone will notice)...

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tru0tru

1 year ago

made this for funsies

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tru0tru

1 year ago

Feverishly drafting Gummigoo copium

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tru0tru

10 months ago

Just so excited to see some improvement and my art style slowly coming out. I do seem to have more of a soft cartoon style most times. Here's a little bit that I wrote for fun a while ago.😜

The air smelled of fresh grass and dirt which brought out a sigh of relief along with a twitch of giddiness to be out of that so called alien lab and abomination of a world Dimension X. Suddenly her rejoicing twitches turned to hunter like stiffness, though she was the one being hunted. The familiar odd voices in the distance grew closer as they foraged the land for their lost property. Crouching to the ground as if becoming one with itself she could feel the tingle of her sore muscles from exhaustion and fear of being caught to relive the same feverish nightmares in repeat. Letting out a light breath to release some tension, she closed her eyes to focus. When doing so she was engulfed by the shadows of the night. “She couldn't have gone far alone in her new form” exclaimed a screeched voice a few yards away from the stowaway. “Knowing Albedo she would have jumped two other portals by now just to infuriate us.” replied the other screeching body. “Kraang will be displeased with…” its words were cut off from a high pitch squeal it produced while being pegged. Another erie deep slow voice threatened “She better be found or the two of you will become slop for the worms”. Both creatures squealed in fear and floated away on their devices searching away in the distance. After a big huff came from the intimidating creature he whispered “We will find you, little one.” Then stomped off in his search.

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art creature plants story storytime plant

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tru0tru

6 months ago

ALONE IN THE DARK:

By Hannah Blakely

All alone in the dark.

Is He there or is He not?

Is He here or gone?

Bruises and scars on her arms and heart.

Is she even worth a thought.

Crying alone in the dark,

Is her tears even enough?

Are her suffocating echos vibrant or loud enough.

Is she as valuable as a diamond in the rough.

Or as ugly as the sin in her heart.

Are her desires her own faults?

What she hears and sees she doesn't comprehend.

Is it the enemy or is it her Friend.

All alone in the dark

Is He there or is He not?

Is He here or gone?

Bruises and scares stain her arms and heart.

What's become of her she thought?

She's a mess, How could she be of worth?

Who would want this broken puzzle piece that's missing it's parts.

Alone in the dark she feels.

I'm not useful so let me not hinder you.

Believing in those words she secludes her soul.

Unpacking her bags in the dark where she thought alone,

Came this gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder.

Saying "oh my daughter why do you keep your tears from me?"

"Don't you remember I hold your tears close to me"

"I understand every tear that waters your face, knowing what you not say."

The daughter replies " But I am a burden that's lazy and sheep that has gone atray. I cry so much does that mean I'm not ok?"

In a comforting voice He replies

"Oh sweet child of mine. Life is hard and bitter sweet. I know. But keep your eyes on Me. The Truth. The Light. I will guide you through the valley of darkness. No your not perfect that one thing is true, but you have been saved because I died for you. I'd do it again without hesitation for you are the one I adore."

She cries even louder with flushed red cheeks and scrunched up face screaming out for the first time.

"But how? I still look down on my other brother's and sisters. I judge when I should not. I don't keep my promises and I loose my train of thoughts. At times I don't keep my composure to where it afflicts others. I repugnance at myself. I'm fake. A foney. How can I be a follower of someone so perfect as you?"

In a stern loving Father voice He says

"Your alone in the dark you say. A sheep that has gone astray. Have you forgotten my daughter for even that 99th sheep who's gone astray I seek. Your are precious to me. More than the birds that soar through the skies. For I have made you in my image you see. So precious to me that I wait to hear your voice. The snorts you make with laughter, your red rosie cheeks that light up, the caring blue in your eyes. Don't fight it and come to me. I've won the war that you so desperately keep fighting on your own. Lay it down at my feet. Lay it down and come to peace."

His daughter wipes her tears,

Collecting each one

Handed them over in a clear mason jar.

Her soul sang

Here my Lord, my Father, my King. I hear your voice. I come at your feet. Alone in the dark I once believed in. But seeing Your Light I can breath again.

These scars and stains are here to stay as a reminder of my journey through my Faith.

I will give you every tear when I have no words for I know you understand what I not say.

When I feel alone in the dark I will sing loud to remind me that I am not.

You've been here all along.

Waiting for me oh so patiently for your daughter to come to your arms.

Alone in the dark.

Is He there or is He not?

Alone in the dark.

Is He here or is He gone?

Looking to Him seeing the magnificent Light.

I know I'm not alone in the dark anymore.