2Deep within the large stretch of wetlands known as the Swamp, the humble life forms were all going about their daily lives.
The Frogweeds were burrowed just below the surface of the earth, waiting for unsuspecting morsels to cross their path.
The Bulb Spiders were attending to their hidden nests and shimmering webs, deep within the numerous caverns of the Swamp.
The Dragonflies were busy searching for smaller insects to consume while engaging their would-be predators in a precarious dance of flight and chase.
A humble, mundane existence… and yet a worthwhile one, depending on whom you might ask.
And even then, different individuals are more than capable of giving different answers depending on many factors, such as their mood, the time of day, and whether or not they remembered to have a nice breakfast.
Such was the dilemma of the young dragon known as Cynder, who was currently making quiet observations regarding the rather unfortunate Frogweed that had attempted to ambush her a few moments prior.
The Frog Weed, a voracious, slow-witted creature with only the barest hint of self-awareness, had decided that the strange, ebony creature in front of it would make for an excellent meal.
This was a rather presumptuous assertion, given that the 'creature' was a formerly corrupted dragon with the ability to harness the elements of Wind, Poison, Shadow, and Fear itself.
And besides, compared to the ominous task of overcoming an enormous, power-hungry dragon tyrant who wished to destroy the world… the young dragon found that side-stepping a simple lunge and bashing a common plant creature with her head was a rather novel diversion, if not a very challenging one.
In any case, Cynder the dragon had a more pressing matter on her mind.
She wondered whether or not the Frogweed would make for adequate sustenance.
"Cynder? Where did you go?" came the familiar voice of Cynder's companion, Spyro.
"I'm here, Spyro." Cynder casually called out, still focused on the Frogweed.
"Is something the matter, Cynder? I noticed you were falling behind, and I was worried that you might have gotten lost."
"No, it's not that… well, I suppose that I'm not nearly as familiar with this place as you are, given that… well…" Cynder rambled, unsure of how best to phrase the question that was currently on her mind.
"What is it, Cynder?" Spyro gently asked.
"It's… well… It just occurred to me that I've spent most of my life relying on spirit gems for nourishment, and that's a problem, since… I don't ever recall learning about what the average dragon eats. So, are these plant creatures edible?"
Spyro looked between Cynder and the Frogweed, and thought about what to say.
"Hm. Now that you mention it… I think I recall taking a bite out of Frogweed once because of a dare I made with Sparx, years ago. I don't think it tasted all that great, to be honest."
"You think?"
"Yeah. And saying that out loud gives me a strange feeling. About the years I spent playing hide-and-seek with Sparx, long before the events that led to me discovering the ability to breathe fire from my mouth. It's hard for me to recall the details of what exactly happened way back then."
"You can't remember what else you did with your time back then?"
"Well, in a way… sort of… other than learning that most dragonflies like to eat smaller insects, so I ended up eating the same thing for a while. I definitely know that Sparx has a thing for butterflies, given what he said to me at the Ancient Grove."
"I see." Cynder nodded, before lying down on the ground and swishing her tail. "Spyro… have you ever wondered what it really means to be a dragon? About what a new age of peace really means for two young dragons who've spent their whole lives fighting to end a existential war in a desperate bid to avoid extinction?"
"Yeah. Ever since I left the Swamp, I've questioned everything I've seen and heard… mostly because it took all of the strength I had just to deal with everything that was happening in front of me. And now that's it's all… 'over'… I'm not even sure what 'over' really means, and besides…"
Cynder nodded, far too aware of what Spyro was referring too.
For while it is easy to say that the purple dragon has the power to change fate and create a peaceful land for all those who dwell within it… it does not do much to answer the age-old question of what to do with your newfound peace when you've spent so many years fighting your way through a never-ending series of vicious conflicts in hopes of obtaining it.
When that happens, young minds tend to wander about, asking difficult questions about conflict.
Such as…
'If nature tends to favor a return to balance, doesn't that mean that nature must first lean towards imbalance before balance can be reached?'
And…
'Did the previous purple dragon truly choose to do bad things with his limitless potential, or did his mentors, the five ancient dragons who encouraged him to gain power just to see what he would do with it, nudge him towards nudging nature into a precarious state of imbalance?'
Or even…
'When a story reaches deep into your soul and inspires emotions you didn't even know you had within you, it results in a wonderful feeling. But haven't you ever wondered if there is a price for having that wonderful feeling? Because… conflict doesn't spring up out of nowhere. Someone has to create a conflict before that conflict can be solved in a satisfactory manner. And without that someone, would there even have been an uplifting story in the first place? And even if that person's influence is necessary, can we truly be content with not knowing what their true intentions might be?'
Cynder noticed that Spyro's posture had turned rather stiff, and his eyes were darting all over the place.
"Lie down with me, Spyro."
"Hm?" Spyro asked, startled by the sudden request.
Cynder tilted her head and waited for Spyro to do as she asked.
Spyro slowly lay down on the ground, next to Cynder.
"Okay, now what-"
Cynder gently nuzzled Spyro's snout with her own.
"Hush, Spyro. Let's not talk or think for a while."
Noticing how anxious he was feeling, Spyro leaned into the comforting presence of his companion, and concentrated on his breathing.
In… and out.
In… and out.
In… and out.
Spyro looked up at the countless stars in the sky, and decided that the first thing he would like to do with his new, free life… would be to live it.
A little while later, the two young dragons were walking through the Swamp, discussing what to do next.
"Are you sure about this, Cynder? I can't shake the feeling that we really ought to report back to the Guardians and tell them about what happened, and if we don't…"
"Spyro, of course we're going to go back and tell them. But the thought of having to explain that we narrowly defied death yet again, what happened to Malefor, and how we somehow managed to survive the process of putting the entire world back together from within the world's core… makes me feel exhausted just thinking about it. And then, we'd probably just wear ourselves out asking dozens of big questions about rebuilding Warfang and restoring Dragon society to it's former glory. We're going to take care of it, for sure… but don't you think it'd be nice to sit back and take it easy for once?"
Spyro opened his mouth for a retort, but then reconsidered.
"Yeah, that would be nice. And you're right."
"Again, I have my moments."
"It's been so long since I took it easy, I'm not sure how to feel about the prospect of going back the simple life I thought I had left behind forever."
"A simple life of playing tag with your adopted dragonfly brother?" Cynder teased.
Spyro considered the jab, and offered a smile.
"Yeah. I really do miss that talkative little gnat, now that I think about it."
Suddenly, the two dragons hear a muttering from below a nearby cliff.
"Okay…. Mom, Dad? Don't be mad, but your adopted son kinda… got sucked into a ridiculously convoluted serious of events that led to him martyring himself to save the world in in a tragic-yet-epic blaze of glory… no, no, there's no way THAT'LL go over well…"
Down below, Sparx the Dragonfly was making his way towards the domain where he and his brother's parents resided.
Ever since his adopted brother had miraculously put the world back together, Sparx hadn't been sure what to think.
One moment, the ground was shaking and rumbling as molten cracks appeared everywhere, and it looked like the world was about to end.
But then, the cracks receded and everything went back to normal.
And since Spyro and Cynder were nowhere to be found, Sparx had soon realized that by default, it had been up to him to go back to his parents and explain the unexplainable.
"You know, I wonder if Mom and Dad would believe me if I said that Spyro was tragically lured to the dark side by a psycho she-dragon who was evil, scary, and-"
"Sexy?" came a distinctly feminine voice from behind.
"Oh, yeah. That too, I guess. And… wait a minute…."
Sparx trailed off upon realizing that that someone had interrupted his monologue.
The dragonfly turned around to see two dragons tilting their heads at him in unison.
"Spyro! Cynder! … You're not dead." Sparx noted.
"Clearly." Cynder replied, giving the dragonfly a sly smile.
Noticing this, Sparx raised an eye ridge and coughed.
"So… how have you been doing this fine afternoon, Spyro, my lifelong buddy ol' pal…?"
"Not too bad, all things considered. Though I have to say, surviving the end of the world does make it easier for one to appreciate all the little things in life." Spyro hummed. "Such as catching up with my wonderful little glowing friend, one who has a penchant for some rather interesting slips of the tongue."
Sparx rolled his eyes and turned to give Cynder a sidelong glance.
"So… he…"
"Told me that you apparently have a thing for large she-dragons, which you conveniently forgot to mention while were travelling together?"
Sparx scratched his chin, and then shrugged.
"Well, what can I say, little miss 'Former Queen of Conquer?' I have a thing for big ladies, sue me. And besides, I can't really see how that's relevant, unless you and loverboy over here suddenly decided that you were both down for the no no cha cha or something ridiculous like that."
The two dragons look towards each other in bemusement, and then back to Sparx.
Sparx blinked.
"Dude…"
"We didn't get around to doing anything like that, Sparx. Though in hindsight…" Spyro began.
"Oh, brother. You know, you can be a tad inconsiderate at times. What do I mean, you ask? Well, I'd like to see you try and write an emotional, tear-jerking, Oscar-worthy funeral speech for a smug little brother who's purple, stupid, and really, really pudgy… only to find out that not only is he not dead… he's now going steady with his new girlfriend, a scheming, wily she-devil who used to be the QUEEN OF ALL EVIL!" Sparx took out a large sheet of paper from behind his back, and promptly ripped it up into pieces, all while Spyro and Cynder looked on in bemusement. "I can't believe I turned down being worshiped by the Atlawas just for this… I'm gonna go tell Mom and Dad the wonderful news."
As Sparx flew off in the direction of home, Spyro turned to look at Cynder.
"Hey, Cynder? Now that I think about it, we never really got the chance to talk… about…"
Cynder gave the purple dragon a dour look.
"Spyro, I know that you know exactly what I said to you right before you put the world back together through sheer force of will. Don't tell me that your short-term memory is that bad, you dummy. Now, come on! Since we've got plenty of free time to catch up on, you'd might as well introduce your parents to their new daughter in law!"
With a big grin, Cynder leaped into the air and began flying after Sparx.
After some thinking, Spyro shook his head and grinned as well.
As the purple dragon prepared to chase after his brother and his girlfriend, he decided that there was little point in wondering about all the little what-if's.
He was alive, he was with friends and family… and he was very, very happy.