Under Chains

cooldude22345 · Nov 19, 2009 6:15 AM

WELLLLLL, I decided to write some more fanfiction. I dunno if I'm gonna put this on fanfiction.net, most likely I will. Please critisize the crap out of anything you feel isn't right, or anything you think is out of place. I hate lies. You think, "Oh, I'm incredible!" when you're really best off working at a McDonalds for a living. No offense if this applies to you. Just don't tell me if it does, cause I'll laugh. HAHA.

Oh, right. Don't read if you're under 13. Or if you can't handle violent themes.

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Get back here, little punk!” The crack of a whip echoed loud and far throughout the valley of avalar, followed by an outburst of shouts and cries.

Cynder ducked underneath a low hanging branch, heaving air in and out of her lungs deeply in exhaustion from running for so long. It had been a brave hearted thing she had done; though, now in her time of desperation, she wondered whether or not she had done the right thing to begin with. Her muscles stiffened as a large, rat-like creature stepped on the many dead leaves littered around the forest. His rasping breath wavered with anxiety, and he played the whip in front of him with malice.

“Look around the river! She couldn’t have gone far.” Cynder shivered as three more of the rat like creatures ran off in different directions, kicking up leaves and dirt in their haste. The one holding the whip sneered, looking at the whip in his hand. Blood stained the wooden handle, turning the once golden wood into a horrid mess of dark red. “Don’t leave a single stone unturned!” Fresh blood shone on the tip of the long whip, which brought nothing but joy to the creature’s heart.

Indeed, that very whip had shed blood that day. Cynder winced at the horrible burning pains all over her back, but through an act of pure will she managed to hold herself together. She couldn’t have ever imagined herself being in a situation like this. If she were to be returned to the slave camps, there would surely be more in store for her than a lashing. Much, much more.

“I can smell you there…” He rasped through deep breaths.

Cynder nearly gasped in surprise. Jeice, the one hunting down Cynder, had a rage like no other. Many times before she had felt the power of his fury at the hands of his whip, and on more than one occasion he had laced it with poison ivy. The meek could never survive under his iron fist; these were usually regular dragons kidnapped from a peaceful life and abruptly hurled into slavery. Cynder was only lucky to have been born into this cruel business, or else she never would have survived.

“Your fear… It can’t be missed… It makes you stick out like a sore thumb!” Jeice swung his long tail around and smashed it onto a nearby bush with a terrifying force. Had anybody been under there, they would have had no chance of surviving.

Cynder’s heart pounded erratically. Surely this had to be a bluff! She braced herself to escape as he turned to face the branches she was hiding under. She could hear his loud, wavering breaths as he moved closer to the branches. She could detect a change in the way he stood, hunching his back and cackling madly. The wide, crooked smile forming upon his hideous features, barely visible underneath the moonlight. He laughed and turned around, walking in the opposite direction with his whip in hand.

“Come on! Let’s check the feline’s village!” Jeice called out as he disappeared behind the thick trees. Cynder felt a thousand pounds lift off her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Her troubles were not over yet; now she had no idea where to go, and the cuts on her back bled profusely. She had no choice but to wash out her wounds in the nearby waterfall.

Slowly and painfully she arose from behind the branches, keeping her head low and listening for any signs of Jeice and his men. When the coast seemed clear, she sprinted off in the opposite direction that Jeice had left from.

“He’s going to find me,” She whispered to herself as she crashed through thick layers of flora, ducking underneath thick branches and jumping over thorn bushes, “He’s gonna find me, and whip me to death.” She motivated herself to further want freedom, reminding herself about the punishment that was in store for her if she were to be captured. Slowly the roaring waterfall came into view, and as she came to a stop at the water’s edge she couldn’t help but feel a bit amazed. Never before in her life had she been allowed outside of the slave camps, except only when she was sent to gather the local crops. But even then she had to be escorted by a group of her slaveholder’s employees.

She looked down into the water, and saw the reflection of herself caused by the moon’s dim light. A large cut ran along the side of her neck, followed by smaller and deeper ones running along her legs. There was a tear in the membrane of her wing, and sides were stained with blood. She felt an urgent need to cry, to pity herself for the lifestyle she had been born into.

“No,” She said to nobody as she walked into the deeper end of the waterfall’s lake, shivering at the icy cold that overtook her body, “I can’t. I can’t show weakness.” It pained her to rub the cold water into her wounds, but she tried as best as she could not to cry out in pain.

She heard a leaf crunch behind her, and she turned with apprehension to face the intruder. The air was completely still as she stood facing one of Jeice’s men, who stared at Cynder with a vengeful look on its narrow face. She could see it take a step back, and reach into the pocket strapped to his waist to pull out a small dagger. It’s tail waved behind it, as if engulfed in excitement. There was so much tension that neither of the two dared to make a move, as if doing so would kill them. Then, it all happened in a flash.

The rat threw the dagger at Cynder, who gasped and ducked just as it was about to hit her head. As soon as she regained her senses, it was upon her, clawing at her face and kicking her in a wild fury. Water was splashed everywhere, and in a matter of seconds the rat’s fur was soaking wet. Cynder grunted out of pain and attempted to shake him off, standing on her hind legs and falling backwards. She fell on top of it with a cry, and quickly flipped over to deliver a painful strike. She raked her claws against it’s face, tearing its ears into ribbons and itsnose apart. The defeated creature stood there dazed, unable to process what had just happened, when Cynder delivered a fatal blow to the side of the head.

Silence. Cynder still trembled from the whole ordeal, and with a shuddering sigh she examined the body of her enemy. It’s chest rose and fell as it took strained breath, and it’s face was painted red with it’s own blood. Cynder shook her head, turned tail and ran.

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Start the flames, critisizm, bashing, yo mama jokes, ect...

cooldude22345 · Nov 19, 2009 6:40 AM

I GUESS I should explain the plot while I'm at it.

This has nothing to do with TloS plotline, mainly because it sucked and I didn't like it. It takes place in an alternate timeline, one in which Cynder is a slave and Spyro... Well, you'll find out soon enough.

She is being hunted because she escaped from the slave camps, in order to be free. But if she's caught, she could be killed.

And that's pretty much the first chapter. In a little while I'll upload another, 'kay?

cooldude22345 · Jan 02, 2010 3:13 AM

Ugh... I guess I'll post more until somebody reviews.

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Several hours later...

Cynder awoke with a loud gasp and wide eyes, still feeling the adrenaline and fear from her nightmare. It had only been a couple of days since she had escaped the slave camp, and already she was feeling the journey taking its toll on her, in body and mind. The persistant dreams, nagging her about the fateful night spent hiding from Jeice, and the short lived battle with his minion. Her stomach was constantly growling, and countless times would she wake up at the sound of her own stomach aching for food. During the day she found herself more tired that usual, taking unnecessary naps for nearly the whole day.

And still, no signs of civilization. No signs of food. No rest.

The constant danger of being caught by the slave hunters was always deep within Cynder’s mind, only worsened by the fact that she was still within the boundaries of Avalar. Until she could escape and get out of the area, she would never be safe… though she had made good progress. In only two days she had made her way deep into the enchanted forest, and very far from the slave camp.

She lifted her head up and squinted as a ray of sunlight shone through the thick covers of the trees and into her eyes. It was troublesome having to sleep in such a cold, damp environment. She was used to the hay bed that she was given back at the slave camp, and the warmth of the rooms that she and her fellow slaves were given…

How ironic, she thought to herself as she stood up and yawned. Here she was, thinking kindly about the very thing she was running away from. Though, in her current situation, anything seemed comforting. Making her way past the bushes that hid her from view, she placed a paw on the muddy trail leading deeper within the forest. She had no idea where she was going, and as she set off on the path once again she reassured herself that anywhere but back would be fine.

Walking past a small puddle with small tadpoles swimming it, she got a strange feeling, as if something was trying to reach out to her. Her gaze was averted downwards, and her mind was filled with a deep curiosity.

There, in the path right before her, were the footprints of a dragon.

She got down low and examined the footprints in front of her, following the path that they led to. They were spread far apart; whoever made these was most likely running. She could see the comparison between her paws and the ones etched into the ground. They were much bigger that hers, and dug into the mud deeper than Cynder’s footprints. It was either a male, or a very large female.

The footprints got closer and closer together as the path got narrower, and in a few minutes Cynder had reached the end of the muddy trail.

The first thing Cynder noticed was that she was now at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the Valley of Avalar from miles away. She brought her attention back to the tracks she had been following. They were suddenly cut off at the end of the trail, and with a careful eye she examined the grass that surrounded her. Four chopped up tree trunks lay in a square, surrounding a small bundle of sticks pointed up in a triangle. Her curiosity arose, and she took light steps towards the strange anomaly. As she climbed over a log, something kept poking at her mind, as if trying to alert her of something…

Ah, yes. She could make a warm fire! A quick look around and, after making sure there was no one around, she stepped towards the gathering of sticks and branches. A warm feeling grew in her throat, and in seconds a burst of flame had erupted from her maw, incinerating the once standing bundle of sticks. Her spirits dropped considerably, and with a silent groan she closed her eyes.

Beaten by the elements once again.

How ironic was it that she couldn’t even make a small spark without completely destroying anything in front of her! It made her ashamed to be a dragon. Contrite was perhaps the only way she could feel about herself right now. And even though there was none around to see her humiliating display, she couldn’t help but feel herself grow very warm.

“Nice job.”

Her body froze in place at the sudden voice; it had come from behind her. Her heart pounded in her ears as she willed herself to take a quick glance behind her, in fear that it might be an enemy. What caught her attention confused her to no ends.

“… What?” Said a purple dragon, standing just a few feet away from Cynder. She had seen many dragons before, of all sizes and colors, but something was very wrong with this one. Very, very wrong.

“…This? You… you saw?” She shuffled away nervously in humiliation and guilt. The purple dragon cocked his head to the side and smiled widely. An odd gesture coming from a complete stranger.

“Yeah, kinda… It looked pretty funny.” He laughed comfortably.

Cynder wished she hadn’t spoke at all. She should have pretended to be mute, then walked off without another word. It was her thoughtless speaking that got her into these kinds of messes. She was used to talking only to females like her, and was never allowed to speak to another male due to the restrictions of the slave camps. Now that chance arose, she was at a loss for words.

“I… I must go.” She murmured softly. Her tail went around her paws as she shifted uneasily. “I’ve nothing to do here.”

“Really?” The purple dragon asked quizzically, “Then what were you trying to do with that fire just now?”

Something about him reached out to Cynder, in a way she couldn’t describe. He had this odd air about him, almost carefree and inviting. She avoided his gaze timidly as another laugh escaped him. “I was cold. I thought maybe I could get warm for a couple of minutes…” She flinched as he got up and yawned, taking a short glance at the setting sun behind him. He took a step in her direction, at which she moved back several feet. She didn’t know this dragon at all, and certainly wasn’t too eager about being in his company.

“My name is Spyro.” He said blankly, rolling his shoulders and snapping his wings close to him. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” It annoyed Cynder to hear him talk with such an unnering tone. “At least, not yet…” His sides heaved as he laughed at the petrified look on Cynder’s face, to which she frowned. Was he making a fool out of her? What did he take her for?

“Spyro…” She repeated his name, causing it to ring in her head loudly; that is, until she realized just how much time she had wasted talking to a complete stranger. “I need to leave!” She said sharply, turning around and hastily increasing the distance between her and Spyro.

“Wait!” He called out. Cynder paused, looking back at him irritably.

“I can’t stay.” She repeated with a sigh.

Spyro simply shrugged, climbing over the tree trunk behind him and picking up a strange object. It looked like a small backpack of some sort, like the ones Cynder used when gathering crops at the slave camp… “You must be hungry.”

“No, I’m not.” Her stomach growled in protest, and with a frown she looked down.

“Looks like your stomach thinks otherwise.” He said with a chuckle. Cynder scowled and cursed at herself inwardly. “You want one?” He asked, pulling out a large apple from the backpack. Cynder eyed it enviously, though she made no attempt to accept the offer.

“… Hn…” She unknowingly made a low purring sound, at which she clenched her teeth and mentally scolded herself. She found herself having to avert her gaze to the ground once again after noticing Spyro’s confused expression.

“Well, too late to say no. Catch!” She hadn’t even noticed that he had tossed the shiny red apple towards her until it was inches away from her head. Standing on her hind legs she caught it in her mouth, crouched low and gnawed on the sweet fruit greedily. It was too late before she had noticed her mistake.

Spyro was staring at her with puffed up cheeks, obviously stifling a laugh. She not only contradicting earlier statements, but also making a complete fool out of herself. The thought of having stooped this low unnerved her to no end. “… What is it with you? Does every aspect about me make you laugh?” She said crossly. Spyro flinched slightly at her sudden question, and quickly regaining his composure he smiled.

“No. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

Cynder’s curiosity was once again aroused, and she couldn’t help but perk her head up. “What?”

“I mean, it’s obvious you don’t like me. I didn’t wanna come off as a jerk, so I thought I’d give you a bite to eat.” He said, indicating with a nod that he was talking about the now half eaten apple within Cynder’s maw. “But you seem stressed about something.”

Cynder’s jaw and her lunch nearly dropped as her mouth hung wide open. How could he have been so observant amidst his carefree personality? He wasn’t like any other dragons she had ever met; something about him seemed different, as if he was caring too much…

… It angered her deeply.

“What do you care?” She shot back. Something in her mind told her that she should be mad; she didn’t know why, but it was as if the purple dragon was being a little bit too invasive concerning her well being. She had never known a simple stranger to be compelled to act like this… Even at her slave home, it took her years just to get used to the company of her friends. Her head dropped sadly, and she held back tears.

“… Are you okay?” Spyro asked worriedly. Cynder gasped and put a paw to her cheek; it was warm with her tears gently sliding down her face and onto the grass below. She let out a sob, and turned her back towards Spyro in anger. She had no idea what was making her feel like this, and worse, she didn’t know what to feel. Her forearm ran across her eyes back and forth to dry her tears, while half of her expected to hear another mocking laugh from Spyro.

But she heard nothing. Glancing behind her she could see his disgruntled expression, and the way his paw plucked the grass right out from underneath him.

“You’re not from here, are you?” He asked solemnly. Cynder didn’t reply, but gave a slight nod. She could hear his disturbed sigh as he overlooked the Valley of Avalar from the high cliff, staring in the direction that she had been running away from. “… I’m guessing you came, err… escaped from over there, didn’t you?” He asked softly.

She didn’t like the emphasis he put in his words, and yet somehow she decided that it didn’t matter. Shoving her thoughts aside, she replied weakly. “… No…” What? She should have said yes, like she had decided to. What had stopped her from doing so?

“You shouldn’t lie.” Spyro stated, “It won’t make things any easier. Besides, your feet… They’re all scuffed up. Have you been running?”

There it was again! Twice he had seen through her ruse! She remained silent as she took the last bite out of the apple, savoring the wonderful taste and the energy the fruit provided her weak body.

“It’s okay,” He started, tightening the opening of the bag with a rope hewn into the fabric to close it. Swinging it onto his back with a grunt he grinned. “On my way here, there were several other dragons running in the same direction you were going in… Maybe you knew them?” It brought him joy to see the sudden change in the dragonesses attitude, from angry to excited.

“Y-Yes! Do you know where they went?” She quickly noticed the guard she had let down, and she guardedly cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m not completely sure, but I bet they headed to Warfang. It’s a pretty sweet place for refugees and stuff.”

Cynder’s shoulders drooped low at the mention of the dragon city. “Oh.” She murmured in defeat. Spyro took note of this, and invitingly nodded towards the village.

“You can tag along with me if you don’t know how to get there; I live there, so I should know!” Cynder’s eyes shone with joy and exhilaration, though she maintained a body language that not even Spyro could see through. “By the way, you never told me your name.”

Cynder was taken aback by the sudden subject brought up. Was she ready to give her name to a complete stranger? What if he turned against her, and turned her in to Jeice and the slave master? She nervously cut the blades of grass behind her with the tip of her sharp tail, looking up for once and staring straight into Spyro’s eyes.

“… Ember.” She lied to him and to herself; though somehow, she felt that this was something he had seen through, judging by the quizzical look her gave her. Nonetheless, he started towards the forest, disappearing behind the thick cover of the trees. Cynder, after lamenting over her poor definition, took up a semi-placid air about her, standing up and quickly scurrying into the trees, where Spyro had disappeared into. Her conscience screamed at her in the back of her mind, giving the most obvious question…

… How far would she go for freedom?
[/i]

cooldude22345 · Mar 28, 2010 10:18 PM

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Naow plz

The Mad Thatter · Jun 20, 2010 12:14 PM

You're very good at writing, I haven't seen any mistakes. Keep going smile . It's good.

spyroandcynder4ever · Jun 20, 2010 3:21 PM

It's flawless, i like it.

cooldude22345 · Jun 21, 2010 5:12 AM

If you want to read more, you gotta look it up on FF.net. My username is Teh Cool One.

I'm done writing on this website cause hardly anyone has ever heard of constructive criticism.

#1 Nov 19, 2009 6:15 AM

Under Chains

#2 Nov 19, 2009 6:40 AM

Re: Under Chains

#3 Jan 02, 2010 3:13 AM

Re: Under Chains

#4 Mar 28, 2010 10:18 PM

Re: Under Chains

#5 Jun 20, 2010 12:14 PM

Re: Under Chains

#6 Jun 20, 2010 3:21 PM

Re: Under Chains

#7 Jun 21, 2010 5:12 AM

Re: Under Chains

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