Hey everyone, it's me again. Sorry for simply throwing this project out there without preamble and I really tried to supress my focus from pushing the idea further without finishing some of my other projects.
Unfortunately, it's a fight I lost.
I'll try to keep my head on other projects for the moment so I'm just posting the first few chapters up at the moment so let me know how you like it.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN SPYRO'S UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Prologue: Lost Magic, Found Magic
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Magic is a power unlike any other. Healers use it to cure the sick, mend the wounded, and save the dying. Alchemists use it to create concoctions and potions of near limitless ability and enchantment. Enchanters can imbue common, everyday items with any number of spells to fit a certain purpose. These are the powers that can be taught, however, there are certain powers that can only be born.
Of all the types of magic that can only be learned through bloodline, the ability to use mana to create from only memory is one of the most prized of all. This technique, lost to the realms for many centuries, is known as Forge Summon.
And those who use such abilities are known as 'Forgers'.
-Treatise on types of Magic both Known and Unknown, Practiced and Lost, Guardian Volteer
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The first thing he was aware of was swirling darkness. It was odd because he'd never seen anything like this before in his dreams. For the first time since he started having these strange dreams he seemingly was able to walk into and out of when he turned ten, Neal Foster, now 23, couldn't pull himself from this one. In the darkness, there were flashes of lightning, violet in color, and menacing in nature.
All the while he heard roars, shouts, and mutterings. Above other things, he saw strange rings floating around marked with strange symbols that he neither recognized yet at the same time his mind worked to identify them as if he'd seen them before.
He was a young man who, in such a short amount of time, had seen much, and wished he could forget half of it. His carefree days of sitting at home playing Dungeons and Dragons with his childhood friends ended after graduation from high school. He and his friends had enlisted in the US Coast Guard thinking it was a safer occupation than serving somewhere where you might get killed, wounded severely, or any other things...
... Like Danny.
Daniel 'Danny' Foster, callsign Rocker, was Neal's older brother, and a Marine fighter pilot. He piloted the new state-of-the-art F-35 jet fighters off a carrier overseas. On August 6, he had spoken to his brother about his desire to enlist and his brother had told him to try the Marines or the Navy that way they'd have a chance of serving together. The next day two Marines came to his house to inform him and his mother that 'while on an ground support mission on a classified operation, 1st Lieutenant Daniel Foster's plane disappeared from all radar in the area'. For the moment he was listed as MIA but that didn't last long.
The following morning, search crews found wreckage scattered from once side of the desert to the other, all indications of some sort of explosion. No body was recovered. That had been six years ago. Neal didn't give up on learning to fly though, a few college courses he had learned enough that, once he joined the CG, he was assigned as a chopper co-pilot.
That ended on the fifth anniversary of Danny's death as on a training excersize, the chopper began to go out of control and crashed in the Gulf of Mexico. Neal's two friends out of High School had been his crew on the chopper. He'd fought to keep them alive but it was no use. He himself had badly broken his leg and also broke a hip. The docs said he could recover well enough but the psycological aspect of it had seen him refrain from getting back into a chopper and also the guilt at being able to do nothing to save his friends was enough that, after a few weeks recovery, he was granted a hardship discharge from the CG.
He'd been a civilian for two weeks before landing a job as a crop duster. Flying a beat up old bi-plane that may or may not have been leftover from the First World War to dust crops was no where near comparable to flying choppers but, still, the old plane did have some merits. He actually started preferring the plane over a chopper.
It wasn't long before he started pushing himself and soon started performing stunts for air shows on the side of cropdusting. As Neal's dream faded from soaring above the clouds (having discovered a love of fixed wing aircraft, he always dreamed of being a pilot in the Great War pursueing the Red Baron and other great aces of the bygone era) to the malevolent storm, this time, the voices were clearer than before.
"We must do something! Malefor cannot be allowed to get his claws on-"
"Yes, yes, I know. Believe me I know. The magic, it must be sent somewhere... but that's just it, WHERE? It would have to be a place or plane in which Malefor can never get it... perhaps even another world... Ah ha! I know just where to send it!"
A crack of thunder pierced the sky and the voices changed.
"Shadra, I have a mission for you."
"Anything, Lord Malefor. Does Cynder require my aid in gathering the Guardian's powers?"
"No. She is doing everything exactly as I wish done. No... I need you to seek out a powerful spellcaster called the Forger, and bring him, or her, before me. The mages who guard such magic have sent it somewhere. I will have that power."
"It will be as you command, Master."
Another burst of thunder, followed by a cry of rage that nearly deafened him.
"YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME! I. AM. ETERNAL!"
Then the clouds seemed to back away, turning from dark violet to soft, royal purple.
"Shadra! Malefor is gone! You don't need to fight for him anymore!"
"You are wrong Cynder. He is merely sealed away. Once I find the Forger, I will be able to make him craft a device or spell to free him!"
"Spyro! Help me stop her!"
"I... I can't Cyn... my... my powers have yet to return... What is this Forger she spoke of?"
"I don't know. I wish Ignitus were here. If anyone would know. He would."
The clouds lost the purple light and instead morphed into pillars of grey stone that seemed to then form a great library of some sort. Shocked at the sudden change of his dream, he turned around and bumped into a teal-scaled dragon who glanced down at him at first with shock and then with kindness.
"So... here's where they hid you... They were wise to do so..." Neal gaped at the dragon.
"Who... Who are you? And what do you mean here's where they hid me? This... This is a dream... It HAS to be!" The dragon snorted.
"I understand your confusion. Crossing the planes of existance from one to another is no simple feat. To have accomplished so, you must have cleansed your mind of all things to do with your abilities lest your curiousity drive you to replicating the magic used to send you here and returning prematurely."
Suddenly, more runes appeared about Neal and this time the symbols within started to squirm and mesh until, much to his shock, he could read them. The dragon nodded.
"You mind has begun to awaken. Good. I fear that your time in this other plane is coming to an end. Neal Foster, though you are human, you bear within you magic from this world, as such, I have your book here as well as the Book of Foresight. It says here that, if you ignore me now and go up in your plane tomorrow, you will suffer the same fate as your brother. The engine will sieze and you will die. However, if you come with me, you will live. I cannot guarentee a better life but, as you have nothing here to hold you back anymore, perhaps you would care for one more adventure? Or perhaps, an adventure that is actually real and not imaginary?"
Neal didn't want to believe the dragon. He made a habit of going over the old crate everyday to make sure nothing happened when he was up there. Then again, he had heard that oftentimes planes with perfect maintenance records often crashed due to unexplainable problems. He had no family left, no friends, why face a future that may or may not see him rise the next day? He turned to the dragon and nodded. The dragon in turn smiled.
"Now then, I seem to have neglected to introduce myself, I am Ignitus, former Guardian of Fire, now Chronicler of the new age. And you, Neal Foster, are what we know as a Forger, one who can use magic to summon inanimate objects into reality. Normally, Forgers are limited to what we know of in our world but, given that you have spent so much time in that world, you doubtlessly know a few things from that world as well." Neal nodded.
"Are there limitations?" Ignitus nodded.
"Yes, you can only Forge summon things that you know how they work. Let me see... ah, here's an example using something from your world. If you know how one of these automobiles works, you can Forge summon it to use. On the other hand, if you don't know how something works, you cannot create it" Neal nodded.
"Okay so no creating space shuttles, nuclear reactors, cruise ships, aircraft carriers, lightsabers, androids, or laser rifles." Ignitus looked to him curiously.
"Lightsabers? How can light be a saber?" Neal chuckled.
"It's something from this world. I... will refrain from making a Star Wars joke." Ignitus chuckled good-naturedly.
"I suppose that's for the best. Now then, I suppose I'd best warn you, while we've been talking, I've been using magic to open a portal and bring you to this realm. Hence the reason our conversations are growing clearer. Now, when you awake, I would suggest you head for the city of Warfang, once there, find two dragons, Spyro and Cynder, they'll be able to protect you from those who want to use your powers for evil." Neal shuddered, remembering the dream.
"Shadra..." Ignitus nodded.
"Yes, like Cynder, she was corrupted by Malefor and still serves him, even though he is gone. She'll stop at nothing to capture you and force you to create something that can break the crystal and free Malefor. I also would suggest that once you awake, you should test your abilities by Forge summoning a few things, clothes, armor, maybe a weapon or two. Something that you know how to use." Neal nodded but then turned back.
"Wait, how do I Forge summon?" Ignitus chuckled as the vision faded.
"You'll know. Those who have had your magic before always seemed to figure out how to do it from the start. Just picture it in your mind and think on the basic parts that make it what it is."
Neal awoke with a start in a field of bright yellow flowers. He gazed around and saw nothing and no one near him and shrugged.
"Well, there are worse places to awaken..." Neal then remembered Ignitus' advice and, seeing that he was still in his sleeping clothes, closed his eyes and visualized something familiar.
Immediately, he started pieceing together the costume he'd worn to a Comic Con several years ago back in high school. It was a black shirt, black jeans, military boots, Police-issue riot armor, and a grey leather trenchcoat. When he opened his eyes, he found the items laying neatly spread out before him along with a large book that wasn't there before.
Opening it, he saw a ghostly quill appear and then gawked in amazement as the book started writing itself. The heading was Class 0 Forge Summons. Immediately, his clothes and armor appeared as if sketched into the book along with what they were made of and what made them special.
Ranger Tactical Armor:
Capable of stopping low caliber ballistic weapons and melee attacks, this armor is issued to Veteran Rangers who have served countless hours in the field. Helmet and gasmask not included.
Neal then began to think of a weapon. For some reason, the day before he had spent his entire day off watching a World War I television special. His father had been a gun collector by hobby and had a little book he had carried with him with a list of firearms he'd wanted to own. At the top of the list for pistols had been a German Luger pistol. However, when Neal tried to visualize it, he found he was drawing a blank with something.
A soft glow from the book got his attention and he turned to see a partially complete diagram of the Luger pistol as well as a note written in what looked to be an exact match to his father's hand.
'The Luger is possibly the most famous and recognizable pistol in the world but for all it's fame the weapon has a severe drawback of being mechanically complicated and difficult to produce in great quantities.'
Indeed the diagram was missing a good portion of the reciever as well as the firing chamber so Neal set the idea aside and then started thinking of another weapon.
The next was another German pistol, the Mauser C96 'Broomhandle'. This weapon, being somewhat simpler, began to be drawn in the book at the same time he was piecing it together in his mind. Then came the hurdle. Neal realized that he also had to create the ammunition that the pistol used and, knowing that a model had been made that used the 9mm round, decided on that.
A soft whooph got his attention and a leather pistol belt housing a seemingly fresh from the factory C96 complete with eight clips of 9mm ammunition was laying on the armor. Once this was done, Neal decided to go for a few more summons before departing. First, simply because walking around without something to cover his head in a seemingly medeval age didn't appeal to him, he Forge summoned a WWI German 'coal scuttle' helmet with no markings.
Next, he created a 'Knuckleduster' which was the combination of a double-bladed knife, brass knuckles, and a steel spike pommel, Then, for a second sidearm, he forged an M1911 .45 Colt Automatic, and then, for want of a longer ranged weapon than the pistols, he started thinking about a rifle. This time, he had a strong memory.
His father had lined up a man in Maine willing to trade an old rifle he'd found in a storage locker he'd bought for one of his father's revolvers. The guy dealt in handguns so a rifle was of little use to him. The weapon was sight unseen and the day it arrived Neal's father had nearly gone through the roof. There, in the weapon crate, was a Royal Army issued 1916 Lee-Enfield Mark III SMLE Bolt-action rifle.
The .303 caliber beast had been difficult to restore to firing condition and Neal remembered the rush of firing the rifle on the range that day and watching his father painstakingly break it down to clean and oil the parts. The sound of a heavy object landing nearby made him look and again, he saw that what he had thought had been brought into real life. The rifle, complete with sling, bayonet, five sets of extra strip clips, and even a kit for mounting a scope were nearby.
Neal reveled in his success but was then aware of a great drain on his physical being and he glanced to the book and saw it flip back to the very first page, the ghost quill reappear, and start writing.
'Nothing can be Forged for free. There is a cost to what is created. Test your limits with a few basic summons but wait until you become more skilled before tackling something more complex. A standard rule is that the more components or moving pieces, the greater the strain. It takes less energy and mana to create a sword or a bow than it does a catapult or a crossbow.'
Neal nodded and closed the book and found that a large Army-style satchel had also been created nearby. As the weariness passed, he changed out of his sleeping clothes, donned the summoned clothes, armor, and weapons, and then, gazing around again, he sighed as he realized something.
"I didn't ask Ignitus how to get to Warfang!"