The Dark Connection

Spyro woke up shivering, kind of like the he was in a winter tindra, only he felt a trifle sad too. It all of the sudden came to him, he jumped gasping, remembering the dark, evil figure. He looked at his surroundings; he didn't recognize where he was. He walked around a bit, but soon fell back on the ground. He was not feeling well.

He lie there frozen for a couple minutes, soon ice started to form on his scales. Being a dragon, he didn't like ice very much. He tried to flame the ice off, but he couldn't. Soon, ice crystals were around his whole body, and the dark figure appeared again. He stood staring at him for a good minute.

"Wha…do you want," cried Spyro, now almost completely frozen in ice.

"We shall see, won't we…my little purple friend," declared the dark figure.

"AHHH!" Spyro jumped out of his beach chair and fell on the sandy ground. It seemed to be all a dream. Wait, but it felt so real. He was still rather cold, but soon the heat from the beach warmed him up.

"Are you ready for the big day champ," cried one of the elders at Spyro.

"I…I guess," said Spyro. "I'm not feeling so well, I need to go lie down."

The Elder watched Spyro as he limped slowly toward the main Dragon World to get home.

"I hope he hasn't hurt himself," mumbled the Elder as he sat down.

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That night, Spyro was still helping to prepare the feast! As mentioned earlier, it was the only celebration given to him to remember his heroic efforts.

Spyro couldn't leave the mysterious voice of the dark figure out of his head. He never wanted to see it again, when yet he sort of did want to see it. He was afraid of it.

"Something wrong, Spyro?" k

Spyro turned to see an Elder staring down at him in concer.

"No, no sorry," cried Spyro!

For the time being, Spyro tried to get the dark figure out of his head, and get some sleep.

The next day the feast had begun. It was a long one, and even consisted of gift opening for Spyro. Sometimes, the baby dragons would sing little songs and read poems they had written for Spyro. Quite frankly, Spyro would cringe sometimes.

"Spyro, let me read it to you, I promise you will like it!"

Spyro put an annoyed face on as one of the youngsters FORCED him to hear one of his poems.

The little dragon cleared his throat, and began. Everyone saw this, and decided to listen to the poem as well.

Darker Love

What can one do,

When what they love is lost?

When they give up hope,

They fall into the hands of darkness,

The shores of that lie between,

Between the firry hells,

And heavenly heavens,

What can one do,

When what they love is needed,

But cannot be gotten.

Then will like always,

Wake up, in a land,

A land of no more.

Spyro almost passed out. That poem reminded him so much of what happened to him last night, or what he dreamed had happened to him.

"I…I have to go…do something," Spyro cried flying away." At the sight of that, the litte dragon cried thinking Spyro didn't like her poem.

Spyro was really frightened now, thinking all about the Evil, Dark Figure. He was cold, feeling bitter, and he almost couldn't fly.

Soon, he felt a warmth in his heart. Alora, he saw her, her face right ahead of him. He flew and flew, until he smacked right into a tree.

He heard a heavy evil laughter—and he could barely make out a something moving in the near distance. He tried to get up and run, but he could not. His muscles locked up, and soon, once again, he feel asleep.

"Oh, you'll see Alora again, I promise. Ahahahahahahah!"