Uh...hiya, dragonlets! Mayflower here. :D Alright, look, be as mad and impatient as you want; I DO have a good reason for the prolonged absence. But it's been a long year since I've been around, so you guys are probably more eager for the story, right? :D I'll leave an author's note at the bottom of the page for anyone who's curious about what happened, but otherwise, let's get on with the reopening of childhood wounds! ...I mean the show!
You found a disclaimer!
Spyro the Dragon, both the game and all related characters (c) Insomniac. They own the Spyro that's in this chapter, so nyeh.
WARNING: This chapter contains game-spoilers! If you still haven't 100%-ed Spyro the Dragon, read on with caution!
CHAPTER 5: The Swamps of Home
Just like with the past three worlds, each of the Dragon Worlds seemed to have their own opinions of what the home of the Beast Makers was really like. The Artisans always considered them honest-working dragons; strong of body and heart, though not the strongest of mind. To the Peacekeepers, they were the only other dragon race worth respecting, with tough skin and warrior spirits. Ask a Magic Crafter, and you'll get a cringe in return - the Magic Crafters were DISGUSTED by the thought of the Beast Maker's world, calling them filthy and uncivilized beasts like the creatures they were charged with raising.
Spyro was beginning to realize that no one Dragon Realm had the story straight, but as Tuco dropped him off at the edge of a green, bubbling swamp, his initial response was to side with the Magic Crafters. The world of the Beast Makers was dark and wet ("Great, MORE water..."), with the growls and squawks of the local fauna providing the background noise.
"Come on, Sparx, let's go - the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we head to a Dragon Realm that has dry land for once."
oo00oo00oo
Zap. Zap. Zap.
Spyro sat with tense legs at the edge of the steel flooring, watching it flicker between a dull gray and an electrified blue. The gnorc at the center of the panel gave him a taunting laugh every once in a while, right before shoving his taser into the ground and lighting up the floor. Electricity, Claude called it. "And it REALLY stings," he warned.
That couldn't have been truer - Spyro was STILL feeling that tingle under his scales from his run-in with those taser sticks earlier. This electricity was everywhere in Terrace Village; the gnorcs used it to power machines, attack the dragons, fry chickens, and now, make the floor untouchable.
And so, the dragonlet watched. There was a pattern to this pulsing madness, he just had to learn it and strike fast.
Finally, the gnorc seemed to let down his guard. As soon as the electric color faded from the panels, Spyro rushed forward, horns lowered in preparation for a full attack.
Before the Artisan got even close, the gnorc saw him coming, and quickly lowered his electricity-stick to the floor, lighting it up and sending all of that voltage straight through the young dragonlet's legs. Spyro froze as the electricity seized his muscles, sending a wave of heat and pain rippling under his scales. His brain was screaming at his legs to jump and get away from the surging metal, but his legs refused to comply.
The gnorc gave a loud cackle as it pulled the rod away from the panel, already beginning to charge it for a second assault. Spyro, although dizzy and unable to move, saw his chance and scrambled to take it. He took in as much breath as he could, then unleashed a fury of flame onto the troublesome gnorc.
The gnorc poofed into a sparkling green gem, but he left one other trinket behind: the fully-charged taser-stick.
Spyro had only a second to react and dive for the safe, swampy ground on the other side of the panel. Which was one second less than what he needed to make it safely. His tail and hind-legs struck the panel as it lit up with electricity again, and the Artisan gave a sharp yell as the surge of pain shot through his spine once more.
Once the electricity faded, Spyro was dropped and left to tumble weakly to the side. He struggled to catch his breath as his wings spastically fluttered behind him, every scale on his body shaking from the jolt.
Sparx tried to nudge Spyro to his feet. Obviously, with so many of those cyber-gnorcs around, laying out in plain sight wasn't the brightest idea. "Come on, Spyro, let's just hurry up, find the dragons, and get out of here!"
Spyro's response was jittery, almost incomprehensible (even to the buzzy dragonfly), but after a few dizzied stumbles, he got to his feet. His paws were shaky and tender, and his vision was spotted with flashes, but he managed to pull it together.
Man, Claude wasn't kidding. Oof. Sparx is right, though. We'd better just keep moving. I think I'll be alright, just so long as there aren't any more-
Spyro froze as he and Sparx reached the top of the terraces, finding a long line of electric panels across the rooftops.
Zap. Zap. Zap.
oo00oo00oo
"Be on the look-out fer attack frogs, Spahro! Cold-blooded killers, they are! Don' let 'em get ahead a' ya, Spahro! Aw, and dis used'ta be such a nice swamp!"
At the time, Spyro hadn't the slightest idea what Rosco was talking about. First of all, frogs? Dangerous? Really? Second, he was Spyro, savior of the Dragon Realms. Did he REALLY think after all of these gnorcs (and that electricity from Terrace Village, which STILL had his scales tingly and charred) that FROGS would bring him down?
Granted, Misty Bog wasn't a particularly NICE place. The TREES got up and attacked him when he landed. What kind of swamp has evil attack trees? Maybe Rosco's threats of evil attack frogs weren't so far off.
And Spyro finally found the perfect way to put it to the test. After hopping tree-trunks through the miles and miles of swamp-water, the young heroes stumbled across a hollow tree stump, one that held a dragon crystal on the other side.
The only things standing between them and the dragon were six blue frogs and three metal-wearing gnorcs.
"Now Spyro, don't do anything stupid," Sparx warned. "Let's just sit back, look at our options, and then-"
"Three, two, one, go!" As usual, Spyro threw caution and common sense to the wind, rushing straight into the room and bashing the left-hand wall of frogs. Really, they were FROGS. How hard could it be?
THUNK. The answer to that question appeared when Spyro was stopped cold by the wet, sticky splat of a frog's tongue on his face. "Oh, gross!" the Artisan flailed, trying to escape the tongue-grab. His awkward stumble shoved him back into a gnorc, who was quick to stab his blade into Spyro's hide. The dragonlet yelped, instinctively spraying fire at everything in range. It took care of the frogs, but the gnorc giving him a hard time was cloaked in metal.
Spyro kicked the gnorc, giving him enough space to turn around and charge him, but this charge led him straight into two more frogs. And their tongues. Ew.
The attack frogs joined together, each grabbing one of Spyro's horns and flipping him, forcing the dragonlet into the wooden ground. Spyro could barely hold it together to barrel-roll aside and flame them both before they struck again.
With a pant, Spyro wiped the frog-goo from his face before shaking it from his hide. On second thought, those frogs were tougher than they looked.
"Do you see why it's a bad idea to charge into things like that?"
"Weren't you the one saying my hard-headedness works best on gnorcs wearing armor?" The faint dragonfly sat on Spyro's head with a pout, too tired to come up with a response.
With a tired groan himself, Spyro pushed himself up the stairs to where the dragon crystal was waiting. It contained one of the Beast Maker's elders, Damon.
"Oh, Spyro, it's soo good to see you!" Damon stretched. "Goodness me, it feels like I've been trapped in that crystal since I was YOUR age! Haha!" Stroking one of his frills, Damon's eyes wandered off into space. "Oh, those were certainly the days...I can still remember when-"
"Hey, Elder Damon, I'd LOVE to hear your story, but, uh, y'know, gnorcs to torch and all that!" Spyro interuptted, hopping up the stairs further to exit the tree-cave. "Sorry, gotta go!"
Ugh. The only thing worse than evil attack frogs? Rambling elders.
oo00oo00oo
For an amazing tour of the tree-tops, you can't just stop at one super-charge.
Lyle's words could not stand truer. Spyro and Sparx whiled away hours on the charge ramps of the Tree Tops, rushing from hut to hut and platform to platform, fighting off fearsome monkeys and reclaiming the dragon treasure from pesky egg thieves.
No matter how many circles he ran on the super-charge speedway, though, one secret eluded him. It was a tiny island, far off on the horizon. He had watched as one of the thieves rushed over there, and could hear its taunting "Nyeh-nyeh-ne-nyeh-nyeh! Heehehehee!" from behind the houses. There was also a dragon crystal glimmering in the distance, sitting tall amongst piles of dragon treasure.
There was one question. How do you get over there?
The Tree Tops were far from dragonlet-friendly, and all of the full-growns and elders were back in the homeworld and Terrace Village, beginning to tear up the junkyards Gnasty's gnorcs had built and electrified. (Spyro was reminded of that feeling he had in the Magic Crafters. But where he believed they had the utmost confidence in him, he couldn't help but think that the Beast Makers just didn't care as much.)
So there sat Spyro, who was a half-decent glider at best, stuck on the edge of a tree-top platform, calculating trajectories and all sorts of Artisan things he was never very good at, trying to figure out how to use the supercharge behind him to reach the faraway island.
"I don't get it!" Spyro swiped at the ground in frustration. He had covered the Tree Tops thirty times over, but there was nothing that would get him high enough and close enough to get the glide-distance he needed. "There's GOT to be some way over there, right?"
Could it really be that Spyro had finally come across the one obstacle he could not conquer?
"Hey, Spyro?"
He had gone so far, already rescued three of the five Dragon Realms. Fifty-six dragons saved, twelve eggs rescued, hundreds of gnorcs slain, thousands of gems found...and this was to be his end?
"Earth to Spyro..."
The thought of going back to the Beast Maker's homeworld and asking for help was embarrassing - disgusting, even. Peacekeepers didn't ask for help. They soldiered on like dragon warriors, finding ways around everything. (Granted, Spyro was Artisan by blood, but the message still mattered.)
"Spyro? Hell~o, Spyro!"
And beaten by what? This? FLIGHT? He was a dragon - he had WINGS. And yet, the art of flight continued to elude him for all of these years. Why was it so difficult? He could glide. In fact, he loved to glide. Soaring through the skies, nothing but the wind beneath your wings to stop you...what kind of feeling could top that? There was just one disadvantage - the fact he needed height. It was GLIDING, not flying. 'Spyro, you're just a dragonlet! Your wings aren't big and strong enough to support your weight!' So what? This dragon's going to be stuck there until he got bigger?
"HEY, FLAME-FOR-BRAINS!"
Spyro jumped, breaking out of his dramatic monologue when a pair of beady eyes and fluttering gold wings dropped into his line of sight. "Geez, Sparx, way to scare a guy! What do you want?"
Sparx sighed, dragging Spyro over to the edge of the island by his horns. "Look down."
So Spyro did. There was a secret ramp hidden off the side, one that wrapped around and shot upwards right above the super-charge.
And as Spyro was quick to notice, it was pointed right at the island. "Sparx, you're a genius!"
"Well, I don't know where you're going to get the supercharge for this," Sparx pointed out, looking back up at the trees. "I mean, it'll be a nice launch, but there's no way you can-"
"Watch me!"
Spyro took off down the island's supercharge, building up enough speed to get a rushing leap off of the ramp. Before he crashed into the next tree-landing, though, he flapped his wings as hard as he could, continuing to pump his legs and force the momentum of the supercharge to keep on. He veered right as hard as he could, and although the re-entry was clumsy, Spyro managed to dig his claws into the second ramp and spin around, launching off flawlessly.
The dragonlet rushed onto the secret island, smashing into the dragon crystal before hunting down that yellow-robed thief, horning him down and taking back the twenty-five-gem piece he was protecting.
The island's keeper, a red full-grown named Jed, gave a hearty laugh when he broke free of his prison and caught up with the young Artisan. "That was quite a ride, Spyro! Your gliding's quite remarkable for someone your size!"
Spyro tried to bite back a smile. Maybe he was getting better at this gliding thing.
"Yeah, but you still could've found an easier place to get stuck!"
oo00oo00oo
"Sparoh, I can' thank you 'nough fer freein' up the dragons 'n helpin' us retake ah swamp," Chief Elder Bruno thanked yet again as he saw Spyro off to Cray at his balloon. "Thanks ta you, we tearin' up all that 'lectrificed junk Gnasty dropped in heah 'n makin' it growin' ground again." He gave a lamenting sigh as Spyro hopped into the basket. "You'll gotta come back 'round later, once this whole Gnasty bidness is done 'n over wit'. The swamp's a might beautiful place normal, I promise."
Spyro looked around to the layers of swamp mud and filth that surrounded the balloon dock. "...Yeah, I'm sure it is."
"Good job so far, Spyro," nodded Cyprin, one of the full-growns Spyro had rescued from Terrace Village (which STILL sent a shiver up his spine when he thought about it). "Keep up the good work. I know it's hard, but look forward to the day when you'll be able to tell all of the dragonlets about the amazing adventures you had!"
"Yeah, don't worry, I will!" Spyro said with the most genuine-looking smile he could muster, nodding for Cray to take off as soon as possible.
In reality, the Artisan only had one thought about the future (minus the obvious dream of torching Gnasty Gnorc): All I want to do is get out of this swamp!
For anyone who doesn't care to hear my story, thanks so much for reading! I'll see you guys next time! :)
Now, for anyone who DOES care: As mentioned in the author's notes of Chapter Four, I was well into the story this time last year. Not only did I finish Chapter 20, which was the initial goal, but I finished novelizing ALL of Ripto's Rage and completed the introduction to Year of the Dragon. About ten chapters ahead of where I thought I was going to be, and I could NOT be more excited to post it up for you all.
Then disaster struck. I was planning on uploading the document to FFN the night I returned from Christmas break. THAT MORNING, my laptop suffered a massive meltdown, deleting its boot manager and essentially blowing up the hard-drive from the inside out. I lost EVERYTHING. Fanfictions, school work, all of the non-fanon projects I've poured the last few years into; EVERYTHING. Sadly, this included the original draft of Legacy, all thirty-odd chapters of it.
As you can imagine, it's difficult to want to REWRITE the one project that took up most of your summer and your entire winter break. I couldn't even LOOK at this story, it made me so sick. But May came around, bringing a huge update for another game I write for (which I'm sure my Isaac readers have noticed ;) ), and the fanfiction bug bit again. So I finally decided to pick Legacy back up, but with my new mantra of "don't post stories you haven't finished" in play. If you look at the rest of my stories, you'll see that's a weak spot of mine.
ANYWAY. So this isn't the initial draft of Legacy. It's a bit sad that you guys will never see the original version, which I thought was a lot funnier and had more jokes. All in all, though, I really do think this version's better-written. It'll especially show once we hit Ripto in Chapter 9. :) So if you guys notice a major shift in the writing from this point forward, there's your explanation. I can't fix it, I just have to hope you all enjoy it regardless.
You guys have NO idea how sorry I am, but these are forces out of my control. And don't worry, I bought an external the week after; I've learned my lesson about obsessively backing things up! If you guys can forgive me, I promise regular updates as best as I can from this point out! :) Thanks for bearing with me, guys, and, uh...well, enjoy the rest of the show!
§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §