Cynder

Cynder groaned and opened her eyes, no longer able to convince her mind that she wasn't ready to wake up yet. A sparsely furnished room illuminated by the dim light of the rising sun met her gaze, and she rolled onto her back with a sigh. The sandstone ceiling was likewise washed in morning light, illuminating the hair-thin cracks and other impurities that marred the golden stone.

Two months.

Two months since Spyro had left on his important mission.

It felt like two years.

Getting to her feet, Cynder nudged her sleeping cushions out of her way and padded to the window. Cynder stepped up to the window and gazed out over the city. It was still early morning, so the streets were largely void of life; most dragons were still sleeping peacefully on their cushions, yet unaware of the breaking dawn. Cynder wished she was one of them.

There was no real reason for Cynder, or anyone, to get up at this hour...but Spyro always got up this early to train, bringing Cynder along with him until it became a habit as natural as breathing. Now, however, the empty darkness of early morning served as nothing more than a reminder of how lonely Cynder was.

The dragoness’s stomach growled, last night’s dinner having been completely digested...at least the kitchen would be unguarded right now.

Deciding she had nothing better to do, Cynder melted into the shadows and slid below her door, careful not to make any noise...