Hello, Spyro fandom! Mayflower here! Sorry this took me so long to post - my world's been absolutely spinning lately, to the point where I've really been too busy, tired, and sick to do much of anything, including write and post fanfiction. Hopefully, though, this delay is over - things are starting to calm down a bit, and my summer vacation's just been extended an extra month, which gives me more time to relax and get back to writing.
As usual, thanks to my reviewers - Flowerstar and ForestRunner - and to everyone who's reading the story quietly!
Before we get to the chapter, though, quick note: it's been pointed out that I made yet ANOTHER mistake in the last chapter, so you know what? Keep searching for them - ultimate bragging rights goes to the reviewer who can find the most! I'll post all of the caught mistakes at the end of the first Avalar chapter, so keep your eyes peeled while we run through the rest of Spyro 1!
And now, on with the show!
LAWYERBOT SAYS: Wow, it's been a while. ._.
Spyro the Dragon, both the character and the game, (c) Insomniac Games. It's been brought to my attention that Spyro is currently owned by Sierra Entertainment, Inc.; there's your one mention, Sierra, congratulations.
WARNING: In case it needs to be stated, yes, this is an adaptation of the Spyro games - one that is NOT spoiler-free. As time goes on, I'll be revealing secrets to accomplishing some of the games' harder tasks (the first is rescuing Maximos in Dry Canyon, which appears in this chapter), so if you haven't finished the Spyro games and don't want to know how it's done or what happens, read on with caution.
CHAPTER 3 - KEEPING THE PEACE
The Artisan eventually awoke, despite all of the aching muscles in his body demanding otherwise. Every scale on his body felt like it was on fire, with stabbing pains in his wings, sides, and leg. "Ugh, what hit me?" the young dragon groaned as he tried to climb to his feet.
"Careful, Spyro," Nestor warned. "You took quite a beating back there - don't strain yourself unnecessarily."
Spyro managed to turn his navy eyes up to the green elder standing before him. "Nestor? Wait..." After a moment, flashes of his battle against Toasty and the sheepdogs returned to him, and he hopped to his feet in a panic. "Wait, where's Gnasty? Are the gnorcs still in the Artisans? Did-"
"Calm yourself, Spyro," Nestor urged, carefully repressing a laugh at Spyro's tizzy. "Don't worry, we cleared Gnasty's minions out of the Artisan Lands - the area's completely gnorc-free, and now that the dragons have been released, the other elders and I are making sure it stays that way."
Spyro breathed a sigh of relief as he laid back down, giving his tender muscles a rest. "What on earth were you doing, anyway?" the green dragon had to ask. "Argus says he gave strict instruction for you not to follow into the battlefield."
"Hey, I beat Gnasty's big, scary sheep, didn't I?" Spyro argued.
"Right before getting mauled by a loose sheepdog," Nestor countered. "If Saffron and Sparx didn't come and find Nevin, who knows what would have happened to you?" Saffron was one of the Dragon Fairies, namely the one in charge of keeping the peace in the Artisans. Early on, she decided to tag along and keep an eye on Spyro, should anything happen in his quest to free the dragons. The purple Artisan had barely noticed she was there - he'd have to remember to thank her next time they ran into each other.
"Sorry, I wasn't trying to get eaten," Spyro apologized.
Nestor sighed - Delbin was the one best at talking Spyro down from his high-horse, so he wasn't exactly polished in the art of pep-talks. "I understand that you're trying to help and you've been itching for an adventure for quite some time, Spyro, but you have to understand that even though you THINK you can do everything yourself, sometimes it's better to just ask for help. You're an important dragon, Spyro - you can't just throw yourself into danger recklessly."
The green elder tsked, noticing that his words were quite clearly going into one of Spyro's ears and right out the other. "Just promise me you'll be a bit more careful when you go on to help the trapped dragons in the Peacekeepers World, will you?"
"Peacekeepers? ...Oh, right, that!" Spyro suddenly remembered. One thought triggered another, and suddenly his encounter with Alvar replayed in his head. "...Delbin hasn't come back from the other worlds yet, has he? I need to ask him something first."
Nestor paused, as if weighing his options, then sighed. "I'm afraid Gnasty Gnorc re-captured Delbin while he was in the Beast Makers World," he reported somberly. "When you started freeing the Artisans, his first assumption was that Delbin was behind it."
"Gnasty Gnorc has him?" Spyro exclaimed, another shot of adrenaline forcing him to his feet. "Where is he? I'll torch him!"
"I'm afraid I don't know, Spyro," Nestor apologized. "But trust me, the other elders and I are working to find out. For now, though, your concern should be heading to the Peacekeepers - Marco has his balloon ready at the docks."
Spyro huffed annoyedly - how was he supposed to focus on saving the Peacekeepers when Gnasty had Delbin? - but an adventure to the Peacekeepers was better than no adventure at all. "Alright, alright, I'll head out as soon as I grab some food for Sparx and stretch my wings a little."
"And you promise you'll be careful, right?"
"Yes, sir." As if they know how to be careful in the Peacekeepers, the dragon couldn't help but think with a smirk.
oo00oo00oo
After a short flight in Marco's balloon, Spyro found himself welcomed by the sandy adobe and bubbling tar pits he had become so familiar with in his many escapes in search of adventure - the land of the Peacekeeper dragons.
"Home, sweet home, right, Spyro?" Marco joked as the balloon landed on the Artisan dock, having snuck the purple dragon away more times than he could count.
"Yeah, just about," Spyro laughed, hopping out of the balloon. "Except I'm actually SUPPOSED to be here this time."
"Yeah, Delbin told me all about it. You'll find Gosnold's balloon in the Peacekeeper dock by the tar-ponds - when you're done torching gnorcs here, he'll take you to the Magic Crafters."
Spyro paused for a second - he hadn't even thought about travelling to the other worlds, considering he had never been outside of the Artisans and Peacekeepers. "Yeah, got it, thanks," he answered quickly before running into the entry-corridor.
...Where he found a few gnorcs, dressed for the occasion in soldier uniforms and silly hats, climbing around on and shaking their sticks at a crystallized dragon. "Hey!" The gnorcs looked up with a chorus of grunts and ribbits, then ran screaming when they saw an angry purple dragon charging towards them. Like the gnorcs that infested the Artisans, though, they weren't particularly fast and were horribly underprotected, so they quickly fell to the might of Spyro's horns and flames.
The Artisan turned his attention to the sparkling statue, which shook and cracked and flashed like all of the ones before it, releasing a massive yellow dragon covered in brown spots - Titan, the chief Elder of the Peacekeepers Lands.
"Thanks for the help, Spyro," Titan greeted, stretching his large, violet wings. "Those little creatures Gnasty created are an absolute menace. He's taken almost every last piece of our dragon treasure and turned it against us."
"Don't worry, Titan, you can count on me!" Spyro exclaimed, offering the usual Peacekeepers salute.
Titan returned the gesture - quite an honor when it comes from one of the Peacekeepers Elders. "I know I can, soldier. Welcome back to the battlefield."
oo00oo00oo
Spyro paused to take a deep breath of the hot, windy air of the Dry Canyon - despite being an Artisan dragon by blood, he had always felt more of a kinship with the Peacekeepers. He loved running around Stone Hill, of course, but he never really fit in with the calm, good-hearted innocence of the other Artisans. He was a 'fight first, ask questions never' kind of dragon - exactly the kind of soldier attitude they expected and respected in the Peacekeepers world.
However, the sand-trap of the Dragon Realms wasn't without its challenges, and right now, the purple Artisan was staring at one. He could see one of the dragons trapped at the top of a tall overhang, and now he was racking his brain to find a way up there. There was nothing he could climb on, and nothing nearby he could glide from.
There had to be a secret. And if Spyro learned anything from his years of training in the Canyon, the answer was in the skies. Like Boris always said, Dry Canyon rewards good gliders.
"Spyro, maybe you should wait and find one of the older dragons to give you a hand," Sparx suggested, however sheepishly ('cause if there was one person who hated admitting defeat as much as Spyro, it had to be his dragonfly). "I mean, how are you supposed to get up there?"
"I'm working on it." Still, the answer wasn't quite coming to him. He tried to run through the canyon in his mind, thinking of how to get around this. He was at the main castle, which wasn't high enough. There was the center plateau, but that was walled off on all sides. Then there were all of the little steps and jumps, but none of those would...
...Or would they?
"I've got it!" Spyro exclaimed, rushing off of the castle rooftop and down into the canyon, running to the back steps on the other side. He clamored to the top of the canyon, hopping over to a small tunnel through the center plateau, which brought him back out to the castle side.
"Uh, Spyro?" Sparx buzzed. "This isn't where the dragon's hiding."
"Watch and learn, Sparx," Spyro smirked, taking a running leap and extending his wings as far as they would go, catching as much of the hot, desert air as they could. He pulled a hard left as he glided through the air, hugging the wall as tightly as he could to make sure he could reach his destination.
Right when Sparx thought the wind was going to give out and send Spyro plunging into the tar-pits, the purple dragon fluttered his wings and landed gracefully on the difficult platform. "Told ya I could make it," the Artisan sneered, running up to the trapped dragon.
"How'd you figure THAT one out?" Sparx buzzed in confusion, still trying to figure out how Spyro had spotted that trick from so far away.
"Take a deep breath, step back, run all the possibilities," Spyro recited, smiling at how easily Nestor's words came to mind. Maybe I'm more Artisan than I thought.
oo00oo00oo
"I must say, Spyro, I'm impressed," Ragnar said as Peacekeeper elder and Artisan dragonlet skated side-by-side through the Ice Caverns, doing one last check of the just-cleared area before Spyro continued on his way. "You know, the other dragons were worried that you wouldn't be ready, but I knew they were wrong. You're a Peacekeeper soldier, through and through - shame you're Artisan blood."
The purple dragon scoffed. "Of course I'm ready...But what am I ready for?"
"You'll realize your destiny when the time is right, soldier."
Spyro pouted. Something wasn't right - ever since he came to the Peacekeepers, all of the full-growns were hinting at something, but they wouldn't say what. In the Peacekeeper fields, Gunnar said that he was "well on your way to accomplishing your destiny"; in the Dry Canyon, Ivor said "ever since you were a wee puff'a smoke, we've known..." (though after growing up with Astor's rambles, Spyro didn't put Ivor's comments past elder senility); now Ragnar was dropping hints in the Caverns. What in the world were they trying to keep from him?
"Is there something I'm not supposed to know or something?" the Artisan asked.
"It's not my place to say, Spyro. Perhaps it would be better for you to ask Delbin when you return to the Artisans." (Someone was out of the loop.) The two dragons ended their skating trip near the golden portal that would take Spyro back to the Peacekeeper Fields. "For now, though, keep your mind on the mission at hand."
"Yes, sir," Spyro answered, however poutfully. (He wasn't happy, but he learned long ago that you never speak out against a Peacekeeper.) Of course, his mission to interrogate Delbin was put on hold thanks to Gnasty Gnorc, but until he resolved that crisis, where was he supposed to go?
Ugh - for once, he was forced to listen to the Dragon Elders. He had to go back to his mission of freeing the dragons.
oo00oo00oo
"Whoo-hoo-hoo! Yee-haw!" Spyro and Sparx found themselves greeted almost immediately by flashes of metal and manic shrieking as soon as they entered the last gnorc-infested area, Trondo's plateau. The dragon duo ducked out of the way, not quite sure what was ambushing them...
...Then saw a pair of gnorcs covered in metal run straight off the edge of the cliffside, into the cloudy abyss below.
"Wow, that was lame," Sparx buzzed.
"I'm starting to get the idea that these gnorcs aren't too bright."
"What was your first clue?"
"True. Come on, let's get going."
After rushing through a maze of the pot-gurus they encountered in Cliff Town and more of those crazy, suicidal, metal death-traps, the young Artisans finally reached the center of the area...and their newest nemesis. He was a towering beast, much bigger than the pot-watchers outside, and much to Spyro's chagrin, covered from head to toe in shiny, uncut metal.
"It never gets easier for us, does it?" Sparx buzzed with a touch of annoyance.
"Aw, come on, buddy," Spyro smirked as he hopped up to meet his newest opponent. "That's half the fun, isn't it?"
The metallic witch-doctor waved around his huge staff (in a way that reminded Spyro of their last major encounter - though he was thanking his ancestors that there weren't any more sheepdogs), making a few 'bring it on' gestures, as if taunting the young dragon. And what kind of Artisan would Spyro be if he didn't give the gnorc exactly what he asked for?
The only question was, how did he go about hurting him?
Well, he didn't have long to think - the old doctor took the first move, rushing towards Spyro and bashing his staff against the ground in hopes of whacking the young dragon. The quick, little Artisan dashed out of the way, and after ending up behind his gruesome opponent, he found the weak spot he had been searching for.
Just like the gnorcs back in Dark Hollow, the doctor wasn't covering his back.
Spyro unleashed a blast of flame, causing the doctor to shriek in pain, his backside smoking as he ran to the next platform, putting himself out during the half-second he bought while the dragon caught up. "Aw, what's the matter, doc?" Spyro taunted. "The Peacekeepers too hot for ya?"
Expecting a repeat performance, Spyro readied himself to start running when the doctor began to charge. Instead, the old shaman took a different approach that Spyro WASN'T expecting - he took his staff and did a grunting wind-up swing, then brought his staff down as hard as he could...just happening to make contact with Spyro's head. Sparx, sharply fading to his electric-blue, dragged the disoriented Spyro out of the way before the doctor could strike twice.
"Nice moves, fastest-dragon-ever," Sparx buzzed sarcastically.
Spyro shook off the dizziness as quick as he could - sometimes, a childhood of bashing steel boxes open with your head came in handy - and hopped back up to the miniature arena. "He's not gonna get me twice," Spyro said determinedly.
The same attack came again - a grand wind-up, followed by a crushing swing. This time, Spyro nimbly barrel-rolled out of the way, and when the doctor attempted another wind-up, the Artisan charged for the opening and let loose another burst of flame. Once again, the old shaman began crying out in pain, rushing ahead to the final platform in the center of the plateau, putting himself out as Spyro caught up.
"Alright, this time, he's mine," Spyro declared, hopping up to meet his opponent yet again. This time, the witch-doctor looked like he meant business. Where Spyro was expecting him to start running or winding up or some sort of move he could dodge, the shaman skipped straight to the punch and swept across the entire mini-plateau with his staff.
Which tripped Spyro up and sent him tumbling off of the arena, right to the edge of the outcropping. Panicked, Sparx flew out and did his best to nudge Spyro back onto the land, preventing what would've been a disasterous fall into the same abyss that swallowed the metal maniacs earlier. The dragon, with the help of his dragonfly, fell back onto his hind legs instead, safe and sound on solid ground.
"Thanks for the save, Sparx," Spyro panted, just the slightest bit shaken from the brush with death.
"Thank me by not doing that again," Sparx tsked. (Really, did other dragonflies have it this hard?)
"Consider it done," Spyro accepted, hopping back up to battle. The witch-doctor, now sporting a cocky smirk, greeted him with an imaginary slash across the throat. (Wow, just when I thought I had ego problems, Spyro couldn't help but think.)
The doctor tried his sweep-spin yet again, but this time, Spyro saw it coming and dodged it with a graceful leap into the air. While the doctor had his back turned, the dragon leaped into action and struck the final blow with another blash of flame, this time crumbling the shaman's impenetrable armor and causing the gnorc himself to disintegrate into a pile of five-piece gems.
"See? Told ya we could handle it," Spyro argued arrogantly as he and Sparx gathered up the dragon treasure.
Sparx sighed heavily. "Yeah, sure, if you call near-death at every turn 'handling it'."
oo00oo00oo
"Great work, soldier," Magnus applauded as he escorted Spyro to Gosnold's balloon. "Glad to see our training has gone to good use."
"Just doin' my best, Magnus." If there was anyone in the Dragon Realms that meant as much to Spyro as Delbin did, it was Magnus. Though he may have been one dragon-age younger and about ten dragon-ages less wise, the full-grown tan was just as much father-figure. Magnus took Spyro under his wing the very first time the purple Artisan snuck away to the Peacekeepers in search of adventure, and ever since, he had been Spyro's tutor in the art of all things Peacekeepers are known for - the art of the fight.
"Promise me you'll keep up the good fight in the Magic Crafters - those prissy daydreamers wouldn't know how to keep a gnorc off their wing if their lives depended on it."
Spyro laughed as the two dragons exchanged salutes. "I'll do my best, sir." Finally, a promise to one of the full-growns that I CAN keep.
"Ago phasmatis draconis, soldier," Magnus said with a nod as Spyro hopped aboard Gosnold's balloon. It was an old saying dating back to the very first Peacekeepers - some say to the beginning of the Dragon Realms themselves, but only the Peacekeepers kept the phrase alive. 'Live the spirit of the dragons', a code of honor that the Peacekeepers prided themselves on, and a customary send-off when two soldiers parted ways, particularly when a mentor or guardian sent their trainee or dragonlet into dangerous times.
Spyro smiled, clumsily saluting over the edge of the basket. "Thanks, Magnus."
Sorry again for the delay! Won't happen again, I promise! [totally doesn't have her fingers crossed behind her back] R+R, my lovelies!
§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §