Chapter 2
"Spyro!" a voice bellowed from the ledge of the cavern. "Wake up, there's an emergency meeting being called."
I poked my head out from under my covers and yawned. Then I uncurled my body and crawled out of bed, noting that I would need a new one soon, as the nestling size was becoming a tight fit. I stretched my muscles, sore from growing pains and was about to start for the entrance to my cave when I realized I didn't hear Sparx's wings beating against the air.
I looked around for a moment, unable to find him. "Sparx! Where are you, buddy?"
At this statement, I felt a ticklish sensation that started between my horns and moved forward down the center of my face. Then the dragonfly poked his head into view from above. At such close range, I could see him yawn as he crawled into my nose before he smiled and said, "I'm right here. Is it time to get up already?"
I looked around. "It is kind of dark for morning, isn't it?" I stated.
"Yeah, definitely." The little insect responded.
While I plodded toward the door, Sparx stayed crawled onto my shoulder. It worried me because, up until a couple weeks ago, he was always the first one up and moving. 'Just one more thing to add to his ever growing list, I guess.'
As I stepped through curtains that were spelled to keep out the weather and bugs, The dark, starry sky confirmed that it was still night. Dawn wasn't far off though; the sky to the east was just starting to lighten. It was a bit windy but that was always the case up in the mountains.
The owner of the voice was a muscular green dragon standing in the middle of the small, grassy plateau that made up my 'front lawn.' He was about middle aged but the signs of this were only visible in the daytime, when his scales reflected the light with less luster than mine or the hatchlings'.
"Hey Nestor." I said as I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, "What's up?"
His gentle, soothing voice was filled with worry as he responded, "Trouble, I'm afraid. Thieves broke into the Vaults. One of them got away."
"Why would thieves break into there? There's no eggs and that's about the only reason those rag roaches come around."
"It's going to be discussed at the meeting. Come on, its going to start soon."
With that, we both spread our wings and allowed the winds to carry us into the dark sky.
My cave was a couple miles away from everyone else in the homeland, a safety precaution suggested by the elders to make it harder for my enemies to locate me. Because of this, Nestor and I were the last two dragons to arrive on the meeting grounds.
We saw the field long before we reached it. It was a valley between two grassy hills that was lower than any other place for miles. At the edge of the west side was a cliff, after which, the ground seemed to be level with the usual dips in the landscape. It was from this cliff that a speaker would address the crowd that gathered below.
On the cliff were lamps, recently installed and powered by the first ever water mill in the dragon realms, just a few miles away from town.
Even as we reached the clearing, I was already making plans to head back home after the meeting and catching up on the sleep I'd missed. The thought of my cozy bed was very comforting right then and I felt a pang of regret that I wasn't there at that moment.
As we landed, Sparx went back to my shoulder.
"You feeling okay buddy?" I asked as I turned my head toward him.
"Yeah, just tired."
Sparx had been stopping to rest more and more often of late. He had started needing the breaks about a year ago. Before that started, no matter how tired he felt, he would have been willing to stay airborne. I'd tried several times to ask him what's wrong but he refused to tell me.
I looked around at the other dragons. The youngest adults were a couple nesting years younger than Nestor. It wasn't that younger dragons weren't allowed. There were the thirty or so six-year-olds and myself as proof of that. It's just that there weren't any dragons of the ages in between that age group and mine, neither here nor anywhere else in the artisan lands.
Everyone seemed to be glancing my way as they talked in small groups but that was nothing unusual. Even before I had gained my reputation as a hero, I was the only hatchling running around the Artisan Homeland. Heck, until the current babies came into existence, I was the only Artisan child. So, even when I was little, I was the center of attention. It could get quite annoying. Especially when I'd just been awoken and forced to fly all they way into town before the sun is even peaking over the horizon.
Everyone fell silent as a brown dragon named Nevin, stepped onto the overlook above the clearing.
"Last night, two thieves broke into the Vaults. We managed to kill one of them, but the other escaped with some of our records."
He fell silent for a moment to let this fact sink in before continuing. "Fortunately, we have confirmed that we have copies of everything they stole in the mountain vault. We will make new copies to replace…"
Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Oswin, a blue with white horns. "After this is over, you need to go to the Dojo. The elders are going to have a meeting but they want you to be there too."
"Why?"
"Not here."
I turned my attention back to the ledge as someone from the audience shouted a question that I missed.
"Yes, I'm afraid it is true. One of the books stolen was all the notes on the catastrophe in the year of the fire dragon."
As thick silence fell over the clearing, I realized two things. One, that was my hatching year, and two…
"Why does everyone keep staring at me?"
After my outburst, they all looked away and the meeting continued but I couldn't really focus anymore. All I wanted to do was take my anger out on something. Where's a sheep when you need one.
The year of the fire dragon comes from the fact that, in the zodiac, there are five elemental dragons, earth, metal, water, wood and fire. The element of the dragon coinsides with the change in elements that occure at the end of each 12 year cycle. I thought it seemed appropriate for Spyro to be born in the fire dragon year.