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Spyro the Dragon, both the game and all related characters (c) Insomniac. They own the Spyro that's in this story, so nyeh.
Spyro 3: Year of the Dragon, as well as all related characters (c) blah-blah, same copyright.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: Burn It to the Ground

"Ow, ow! Piranhas!"

Spyro quickly scampered to shore, shaking off the bloodthirsty fish that had dug into his tail. At first, the Spooky Swamp didn't seem so bad; a little wet, a little dreary, but nothing the Artisan hadn't gotten used to during his stay in the Beast Makers all those years ago.

Now he was beginning to notice all of the creature problems. The swamp was littered in angry bears, giant mosquitoes, and starved gators, not unlike the hungry bushes he had to put up with in Fracture Hills. (None of this was made any better by Sparx's sudden disdain for crawdads, the local fodder.) And if you tried to dip into the water to avoid the creatures on land, the waters were swarmed with angry piranhas.

"Man, you and water, Spyro," Sparx buzzed.

"I know, it's a curse," Spyro echoed with a roll of his eyes, shaking the water from his scales.

The creatures wouldn't be a problem for too much longer, though. The local fireflies mentioned a great wizard that lived in the burrows of the swamp, that could clear out all of the monsters in a single wave of his arms. Spyro was betting he could help them find some dragon eggs, but the fireflies were too scared to go out and light the tea lamps to summon him.

Lighting fires? Easiest thing Spyro had done all day.

Halfway through their quest for tea lamps, though, Spyro and Sparx came across Moneybags, meditating and penning poetry in front of a door that was absolutely there ten minutes before they came by and didn't look suspicious in the slightest.

"Greetings, young dragon!" the bear welcomed with a slight bow. "Welcome to the Spooky Swamp! Enjoying your trip?"

Unable to come up with a haiku-fitting response, Spyro ignored his forced ally, pawing at the large door blocking their path. "The door is jammed shut," the bear explained. "Only the power of gems can hope to move it."

"No way, Moneybags," Spyro scoffed, quickly turning tail to find a new way through the swamp. (Unbeknownst to Moneybags, there were many.) "I'm not giving you my gems. And your haiku stinks."

The bear grumbled as he watched the Artisan duck off into the stormy night. "Fine, Spyro, go on. But those gems will be mine soon!" He gave a sour sigh. "Ugh, I hate haiku."

oo00oo00oo

Eventually, in their spooky slam through the swamp, Spyro and Sparx encountered a familiar kangaroo bouncing through the marsh! "Spahro, it's 'bout time!" Sheila greeted with a wave. "I thought you'd never show up! You likin' the swamp?"

Spyro shrugged his shoulders. "I don't do rain, Sheil," he said. "And this haiku stuff is hard. I'm ready to bounce."

"Tsk-tsk, what a shame," Sheila giggled. "The fireflies here are like more of my brothers. The swamp smells so sweet; the springtime trees are fragrant..."

The kangaroo waved her dragon companion off, having some very important rebel-work to attend to. "I'm off to kick butt."

Sheila bounded through the forests surrounding the swamp. Two of her poetry-slam partners, Buson and Basho, had mentioned that the Sorceress hid a pair of eggs deep in the swampy ruins, locking them up in dragon-proof cages. But as the kangaroo noticed, 'dragon-proof' did not always mean kangaroo-proof.

"Oi, Buson! Basho!" she called out, waving to her firefly brothers. "Sorry I'm late; got caught up. Are the eggs alright?"

The firefly twins, each holding a bomb in their shaky hands (the key resource to her small rebel troupe), both squinted to see her through their over-sized glasses. (The twins were caught in a flash-bomb explosion a few years back; they survived, but at the cost of their eyesight.) "Yes, we have the bombs here to destroy the egg cage," Basho explained. "But we just go boom," he sighed. Sheila winced, only imagining how bad this got before she arrived. The brothers could barely see their hands in front of their faces. Trying to traverse the rockiest part of the swamp with an armful of explosives must've been impossible.

"Kangaroo can help!" Buson jumped in. "You can clear the path for us! Will Sheila help us?"

"Sheila will help ya," Sheila agreed with a chuckle. "Gotta get those eggs. 'Sides, can't say no to haiku."

"Yes!" Basho cheered. "It's bombing time! Here I come, my little eggs! To free you at last!"

The impaired firefly took off, and Sheila immediately had to dive to the rescue as he nearly walked into a rock. The inner forest of Spooky Swamp was a maze of rocks and debris, not as watery or well-worn as the rest of the area. With the rock out of the way, Sheila tried to carefully guide Basho away from the cluster of rocks. She had to guide him quietly, though - coming up with a haiku in the heat of the moment would've been far too difficult.

Past the rocks, Basho headed straight towards a cluster of mushrooms. Which wouldn't have been a problem if Spooky Swamp weren't one of two places that could support towershrooms. Seeing the potential for danger, the kangaroo rushed ahead, thrusting herself into the air as high as her legs would take her. With a few rampant backflips, Sheila flattened the small forest of mushrooms, just in time for Basho to gracefully walk through.

Instead of taking the path straight ahead to the cages, though, Basho took a wrong turn, nearly throwing himself into a large piece of ruin debris that Sheila just managed to kick out of their way. He came around and returned to the proper path...which Sheila almost failed to notice was grown over by mushrooms. With only a second to make her guess, she leapt over Basho's head and flattened the center path of mushrooms. And with the cages in sight, he followed her premade path instead of wandering into the towershrooms.

Sheila gave a heavy sigh of relief, sinking to the ground once Basho's bomb had finally freed the coveted dragon egg. Finally, that nightmare was over. Until Basho brought up one very good point:

"One egg cage remains. Will you now help my brother to free the last egg?"

oo00oo00oo

Bubba looked on in horror at the sight of the four swamp tea-lamps flickering in the distance of the murky rain. "I lit your dumb lamps," Spyro said, expecting his quick reward at the end of the mission, as it always came. "Now what's with this wizard dude? Do I win a prize?"

"Yes, the lamps are lit!" Bubba acknowledged. "Now I'll tell you the secret of the old tea-house. A creepy wizard lives inside, but hates the light! He has awoken. He swore to destroy whoever lights the tea-lamps!" The firefly gave a shrug. "Better you than I."

"What?!" Spyro jumped. "But I thought the wizard would help us find the missing dragon eggs!"

Bubba shook his head. "You are brave, dragon - much braver than I, by far. But also quite dense." The firefly quickly turned tail and fled, anxious to leave before the wizard came out to meet them.

Spyro sighed sharp,
staring down the wizard's door.
All in a day's work.

oo00oo00oo

"Man, that is one ugly statue."

"That's what the Sorceress said. But if you ask us, it's a lot prettier than she is."

In search of the rest of the dragon eggs, Hunter and Spyro made their way to the Enchanted Towers, where the local gypsys said they could craft a whirligig that would help Spyro reach the next part of the Forgotten Worlds, the Evening Lake. (Between Buzz's dungeon and the landing, their balloon wasn't in any state to fly.) Unfortunately, they were having a scaly sort of problem: the Sorceress, who threw a fit with her commissioned statue and filled the Towers with rhynocs to tear it - and the rest of the area - down.

They had to clear out the rhynocs, but the locals had no problem with blowing up the statue first.

So it was up to Spyro and Hunter (...okay, mainly Spyro) to set off all of the gypsys' explosives, all of which were aimed right at the glittering monster's head. And where military-grade explosives are to be found, a member of the Hummingbird Corps can't be far behind, as the Artisan noticed when he heard the tell-tale sound of flapping penguin wings rush up behind him. "Permission to approach, captain?"

Spyro fought back a chuckle. Typical Byrd. "Permission granted. At ease, soldier, I'm no commanding officer."

Still, Byrd held his typical stiff pose. "I take it you've come to help clear out the dracul problem, then?"

The Artisan bit his lip. The draculs, right. The thousand-year-old, full grown versions of those spidery monsters he had to fight off in the caves of the Crystal Glacier. In response to the statue chaos, the Sorceress dumped a nest of them into the Enchanted Towers. And, in true dracul nature, they spread like wildfire. They retained the same toxic color as their younger counterparts, but their spidery limbs were weakened and replaced with thunderous wings, which allowed them to easily conquer the airways of the Towers.

The gypsys were ecstatic to see a dragon come to their rescue; Spyro's heart sank when he had to spread the news that he couldn't fly like the dragons of old that built the original Towers.

Not quite comfortable with bringing the problem up to his penguin companion, Spyro skillfully changed the subject. "Oh, yeah, we've been trying to take care of that. Is that why you're here?"

"Affirmative. Not sure why the gypsys called me in if you were already here, but perhaps this dracul invasion is simply a two-man job."

"Yeah, it probably is. Hey, so here's an idea: Hunter and I have to deal with this statue thing, so how about you go on without me and start taking care of the draculs, and I'll catch up after the two of us take out the ground units?"

"Divide and conquer; classic plan, soldier," Byrd agreed, giving a quick salute before hopping into the skies. "I'll cover the northern towers and rendezvous with you here at 1500 hours."

"...And that would be?" Hunter asked once the penguin was out of earshot.

"Don't worry about it, we'll find him later," Spyro sighed, glad to have avoided the subject one more time. "Come on, let's get this statue out of the way. I heard there's a skate-park around here that we should hit if we have time."

oo00oo00oo

While Spyro and Hunter cleared out the rampant jackhammer-nocs from the ground, Byrd set out to wage war on the clouds of draculs that swarmed the skies of the Enchanted Towers. They were ghastly creatures, covered in slime that could inflate and take to the skies at a moment's notice. They were clustering at the tops of the highest towers, likely mistaking them for their natural habitat, the tops of frozen mountains. (The legends say that the draculs appeared when a baby draclet climbed from its home in the frozen waters below up to the skies, where the dragon gods bestowed them with wings. Not a particularly-appetizing legend, but one nonetheless.)

Knowing how quickly draculs could lay eggs and reproduce, Byrd rushed into the skies. Time was of the essence, and the draculs needed to be eliminated as quickly as possible before the problem became unbeatable.

Luckily, Byrd was a master in the dracul's greatest weakness - fire. Being creatures of the arctic zones, they deflated and crashed immediately upon impact in the heat. And the penguin commander happened to have two quite-reliable sources of firepower fixated to his shoulders.

During his explosive attack on the skies, though, Byrd found another strange creature roaming about. They were a darker blue than the draculs and sported no wings (yet still managed to be in the most out-of-reach places). They seemed a bit like dogs, but their faces and slimy coats suggested a more frog-like manner. And for some reason, each of them seemed to be juggling a gold-plated bone.

"Now what in blazes do you go to?" Byrd asked the mysterious pieces, tossing one of them in his free flipper as he did a final walk-through of the Towers. He DID promise to wait for Spyro, but at least he could report that the problem was taken care of. Surely, the dragon would appreciate the extra time to search out the rest of the dragon eggs.

"Penguin find Shaman Ooga's friend!" Confused, Byrd looked up to find a cave-shaman rushing towards him, cradling a golden skull in his arms. "Oh, Shaman Ooga so worried! Lava Toads sneak out of Badlands in Ooga's suitcase and run off with Ooga's bones!"

"Well, that sounds...terrible," Byrd coughed, trying to hide his confusion the best he could. He handed off the rest of the golden pieces he had found. "I, erh...hope your friend will...be alright."

"Ooga friend be fine," Ooga assured, kneeling down to reassemble his skeletal companion. "Lava Toads do this to all skeletons. Just last year, Ooga had mighty purple dragon find bones for Ooga's friend."

"I take you're talking about Spyro?"

"You know mighty purple dragon of the badlands?"

"Unless purple dragons are more common than the legends say, I believe so. I'm en route to meet with him and patrol the skies for draculs. If you two are old mates, I'll gladly bring a message of-"

Ooga interuppted with a confused look of his own. "Sky? Purple dragon no fly."

"Doesn't fly?" Byrd stumbled, offended by the mere thought. "Nonsense, dragons are the most spectacular fliers the worlds have ever seen!"

"Uh-uh," Ooga insisted. "Bonebuilders watch dragon conquer badlands and save Avalar from black shaman. Dragon did it from ground. Wings made for gliding, not flying. Mighty purple dragon is mighty purple dragonlet; dragonlets can't-"

YEAAAAAAAAAA~AH!

Suddenly, all eyes were on the skeleton, which lifted off the ground and reassembled in mid-air, giving a pleasant little shake. It burst out into a funky riff, jamming out with finger points and splits and moonwalks before breaking out into a circle of backflips. Aw, yeah! Hit it!

"What Ooga say about breaking into song and dance in middle of game?!"

Byrd stepped back while Ooga began yelling at his friend for being a distraction to the players, or some meta-nonsense like that. Could it be true? Okay, so he hadn't actually seen Spyro fly for himself, but there was no way a DRAGON of all things couldn't master something like flying, right? Even HE could do it, and he was a penguin! If his wings, which were MADE to be flightless, could pull it off, why couldn't Spyro's?

With Ooga put out of the picture by his spotlight-stealing skeleton, there was only one place to go: Spyro himself.

oo00oo00oo

"What's the matter, Spyro? The course not being so ice?"

"Your ice-pun doesn't even work here!"

"I'm trying, okay?"

Spyro wavered slightly as he tried to straighten his board. "These things aren't built for quadrupeds, that's all."

Hunter snickered, riding along the lip of the center inverse-ramp. "Whatever you say, legendary dragon of excuses." He then rode down to meet his best friend, who quickly torched him off of his board.

Yes, as the stories of Enchanted Towers predicted, Hunter and Spyro eventually found the legendary skate park. (The Sorceress tried to seal it up by building her statue over the entrance.) Being one of the boarding-masters of Avalar, Hunter couldn't wait to try it out. Spyro, thinking it would be an ice-rink, was just as excited, but only at first.

"I can get the hang of it!" Spyro reassured, trying to use a shaky combination of his tail and front paw to push off. Building momentum is quite the challenge when you can barely reach the ground from the board. "Gimme ten minutes and I'll skate that smirk right off your face."

"Really, Spyro?" Hunter laughed. "You're challenging me? You barely know how to ride that thing!"

The cheetah quickly quit laughing as Spyro hit a half-pipe. The young pseudo-Peacekeeper solved his momentum problem the same way he solved most: running at it full-speed and hoping for the best. The initial charge gave him the forward push he needed, which he could upkeep with his wings the same way Hunter could push off with his legs. With his claws tight around the board, Spyro launched off the nearby half-pipe, cracking his tail like a whip to force the sideways spin.

After landing the 900 flawlessly, Spyro glided by his arch-rival, once again torching him off his board. "You were saying?"

"Alright, dragon-boy, that's it!" Hunter snapped. (The two put aside their differences long ago, but if there was one thing to light the old fire between them, it was a "friendly" competition.) "You, me, game of SATYR, right now."

Spyro scoffed, charging back onto his board and taking to the course. "Alright, me first!"

Their game took them all across the park - into the half-pipe, across the launch tunnel, pulling Orange Crushes and Big Gulps off of the "big ramp", 900-offs in the center inverse...

Up four letters to none, Spyro decided to end the game with a bang. (Or, at least, he thought it'd be a bang. Hunter would probably call it cheating.) Riding off of the upper half-pipe, the Artisan pumped his wings to launch him off of the upper rails, where three marble towers looked down upon the rest of the park. Forcing his wings to give him whatever lift they could, Spyro bounced from tower to tower, spiraling down from the final one with a perfect Gnasty Gnorc-Twisted Lemon combo. "Beat that!"

"Oh, no fair!" Hunter whined. "Gnasty Gnorc was going to be MY signature trick!"

"Too bad, beatcha to it." After a quick laugh, Spyro hopped off his board, stretching his front legs with a wince of pain.

"You alright, Spy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine...Just pulled a wing, that's all. These Enchanted Towers are rough, man, I've been flying around all day and-"

"Oh, is THAT so?"

Artisan and cheetah alike both cringed when they heard the military snap of a penguin sneak up behind them. "Before you say anything, this was all Spyro's idea!" Hunter clamored, kicking his skateboard towards his dragon accomplice.

"Hey, Byrd," Spyro greeted sheepishly, expecting the no-nonsense sergeant to chew them out for goofing around. "You, uh...take care of those draculs already?"

"Affirmative," the penguin snapped. "It's a good thing, considering I'm apparently the only competent flier in the Towers!"

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?" Spyro asked with a furrowed brow. "I'm one of the best fliers in the Dragon Realms and Avalar!"

"Not the stories I've heard on my rounds, soldier. Stories I believe I've confirmed with my own eyes, seeing you with that board up on those towers. You can't fly at all, can you, Spyro?"

Spyro paused, the two parts of his upbringing coming to a clash as he tried to consider how to handle the sudden confrontation. Artisan grace and logic would've been preferable, but the Peacekeeper habit of yelling and making everything worse won out in the end. "Can so! Who told you that?"

"Old acquaintance of yours I ran into on my rounds. Bonebuilder, claimed to be from some sort of badlands. Brought a dancing skeleton and a pack of Lava Toads. He sends his salutations."

Spyro cursed under his breath. Ratted out by Ooga, of all the things. "Well...okay, so maybe I can't," he admitted with a huff. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Nothing of importance to your mission, I'm just disappointed," Byrd sighed sharply. "By the gods, you're a DRAGON! Your people BUILT these sky-towers!"

"Hey!" Spyro interrupted, grinding his teeth as his temper started to boil. "Look, I'm not a good flier, I'll give you that. But that does NOT make me any less of a dragon!"

"I'm not accusing you of that, dragonlet, I'm merely expressing my concern that this is going to stand in the way of you rescuing your dragon eggs! Why would you volunteer for the task if you couldn't even pass through a basic training course?"

"I volunteered for the same reason I volunteered for all of the OTHER times I've saved the world!" the Artisan spat. "Because I CARE about the dragons, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get the eggs back, wings or no wings!"

"But that's not the situation! You HAVE wings! And you're selfish enough not to take the time to learn how to use them?!" Byrd recoiled for a moment, struggling to keep his own tongue calm. "That's the part that sickens me, dragon. You, prancing about, letting your wings rot where they sit on your back! I spent the better part of my LIFE trying to get airborne, and it's downright offensive to see someone like you who had it handed to them through no virtue other than the mother that laid your egg, and not even bloody using it!"

"Don't I even get a chance to EXPLAIN?" With the penguin silenced, Spyro spat smoke from his snout. "No, on second thought, forget it. I don't NEED to explain myself to you! I've got two whole parts of the world that realize I'm a hero, and that I could do it WITHOUT my wings, unlike some kinds of whiny, flightless bird! So if you'll excuse us, Captain Hummingbirds, me and my also-flightless partners have REAL hero work to do!"

With a crack of his tail, Spyro spun around and headed for the exit, no longer in the mood to best Hunter in a game of skate-SATYR. "Fine! But don't come crying to me when one of your precious dragon eggs is hiding a bit out of reach!" Byrd bit back, hopping into the air and shooting off in the other direction.

Hunter, avoiding confrontation as he usually did, watched the fireworks go off before both dragon and penguin left him alone in the skate-park.

Alright. Time to set a new course record.

AND YEAH, ALL OF THE DIALOGUE FROM SPOOKY SWAMP IS WRITTEN IN HAIKU. COUNT THE SYLLABLES IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME. 5-7-5, ALL DAY, E'RY DAY.

...Alright, enough of that. XD With the most annoying area of the game behind us and tempers boiling between Spyro and Byrd, what kind of drama and horror awaits us in the next chapter? (I'll give you guys a hint: it may involve a whirligig-like device. ;) ) You'll just have to tune in next week to find out! Thanks for reading, guys! See you next week!

§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §