Cursed Cat Alastor Is My New Obsession

Cursed cat Alastor is my new obsession

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.

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