Skylands Legends

21.2 Lord of the Night

Stealth Elf watched as the gates shattered inwards with a mighty crash. A shockwave spread outwards from the explosion, racing through the city and colliding with the inner walls where Stealth Elf and her crew waited. The ramparts shook and chunks of ice fell away from them.

The dust began to clear around the collapsed gates, revealing hundreds of dark creatures rushing into the city. The soldiers who hadn't been crushed by the gates were still recovering from the shockwave. The creatures reached them and began their slaughter. All Hell broke loose in the streets as the elves and beasts went to war. Within seconds, thousands of frost elves were dead.

"Vitae," Stealth Elf cursed, watching the slaughter. "We have to do something." She turned to find Bushwhack already drawing his traptanium ax.

"Way ahead of you," he said, starting towards the stairs.

Stealth Elf followed. "Pop!" She called, making sure the gremlin was following.

"I hate how we keep ending up in situations like this." The alchemist complained, chasing after her.

"It's a part of the job, unfortunately." She said, taking one last look out over the battlements at the wave of dark beasts rushing into the city. She couldn't help but feel that Pop Fizz was wrong. They had never faced anything like this. Out of all the things they had been through as Skylanders, this was nothing like them.

It was worse.

*******

Chill watched the two dragons slow breathing as they lay on her bedchamber floor. She was not entirely sure why Mons had had her indulge the delusions of this so-called King of Chaos. It was an arrangement she was less than pleased with. Spyro was a legend among the Skylanders and a renowned hero of the Prime Realms. Having a hand in his family's kidnapping was dangerous. She couldn't have war, at least, not yet. They still needed time to prepare before it came to that. And antagonizing the Skylanders in such a way could bring them closer to war than she would like.

Of course, she kept these thoughts to herself. While Mons often spoke to her in her mind, she did not think that the Ancient could actually read her thoughts. At least, she had given no evidence as to having that ability.

The clang of metal foot steps announced the arrival of one of her frost knights. Once they stopped, she recognized the familiar shifting of armor as the knight bowed to her. "Your Grace," he said.

Without turning towards him, she gestured with her hand. The heat was drawn out of the room, dropping the temperature several dozen degrees. The knight took this as his sign to speak.

"A report came from the south," he said. "A dragon was spotted cresting Frostfest at high speeds. They believe it to be Spyro, though they say he was moving too fast to tell for sure."

There was no doubt in her mind that it was Spyro. You can't take a man's family from him and expect him not to chase after. What a fool, the King of Chaos. The wolf should have stayed locked in his traptanium cell. Or better yet, the Skylanders should have just killed him. It would have been better that way. She did not understand Mons' alliance with the creature. He was far from sane. Far from reliable. And hardly seemed to worship Her and the Way of Winter. Why did he get the Dream?

It must be some sort of test. A way to prove her fealty to Mons. Would she allow a degenerate wolf to go through with some half-baked, insane plan of his that could ruin everything she had planned for at the behest of her God? It seemed contrived, but who was she to question the way of the Ancients. They were several millennia old. The things they knew, the stuff they had seen. They likely knew more than the entirety of Skylands put together. They were Gods, and everyone else was just ants beneath their feet.