Leaning out on the wooden weaves of a square basket, suspended by thick spirals of weathered rope beneath a large flame-driven balloon, Elora's heart maintained a steady and wary throb as both her and Spyro floated onward over endless undulations of an open ocean. With no nearby shores and only distant silhouettes of geography to suggest their progression, her eyes found solitary avians adrift on the same winds that nudged them onward, observing their lengthy glides and sweeping turns over the shimmering sea.
We've been up here for a decent while... Going straight from the magic mountains back to the artisan meadows... Direct flight must be further. I wonder if there's a map of the dragon realms and where they are around this ocean.
Glancing aside to Spyro, his snout pointed knowingly toward his homeland that still eluded sight, she briefly lamented lacking a spyglass.
If there are maps... I wonder how big everything is? The dragons have portals everywhere for quick travel... We do too in Avalar. Plus the forgotten realms. Our portals have been around for as long as anyone can recall... Which implies that all of the creatures of the lands have been exploring near and far for millennia. Somebody should know where the worlds are and how far apart they are... How far Avalar is from here... Hmmm.
Seeing Spyro's orange wings flutter from the same swirling breeze that brushed her brunette locks back among her ears, Elora adjusted her posture with a small lean.
If we all are on the same big rock somehow... This whole world must be pretty dang big.
Artisan Homeworld, Dragon Kingdom
Seated on a finely-hewn and portable log bench, a muscular and crimson-colored Delbin sat back, paintbrush in hand, with reddish-brown colors coating its clump of damp hairs. Attention alternating between the pages of an old tome propped open beside him, and the palette on his lap, the elder dragon resumed inspection of the living and breathing subject a short distance beyond his freestanding easel.
Words may paint pictures, but little can they do to describe the beauty of such colors...
Dabbing his brush and dragging it into a series of small turns, he then glanced aside to his artistic comrade Gildas, a bit wilder with his strokes, but a fellow artist just the same. Eyes meeting after his brief and similar inspection of the stool-seated and broad-eared mammal ahead, the cerulean reptile leaned near, pointing the handle of his brush to the bipedal female.
"When's the last time you've encountered one of them?"
Brow perking from his whisper, chest expanding amid a breath of wild warm grass, Delbin leaned closer to match, his green and gold-trimmed vest shifting across his scales.
"Cannot readily recall."
Looking again to the mysterious and gentle creature, painting a big and simple-colored oak tree on the left of a canvas, both elders then looked to the busy swipes of Spyro seated just beside, slathering a messy depiction of Avalar's flag with a shaky paw. Observing the alternating glances of the young couple, inspecting the progression of the other's paintwork with exchanges of innocent smiles, Delbin touched his clawed palm to his chin, then lowering and adding finer detail to his depiction of an anonymous woodland faun.
"Our lad Spyro seems to be good at finding the rare and unusual."
"Just my luck, honestly. Could not think of what to paint today, and along comes these two."
Mixing a large blob of rich purple paste, fully aware of the discreet conversation behind them, Elora's vision wandered beside to Spyro's profile, his tail flitting about in small motions behind his folded wings. Deftly dabbing and swiping his brush in a series of ever-changing colors, forelimb shaking as he attempted to emulate the banner of her homeworld's castles, she hummed with mirth from his efforts.
"Hey."
"Huh?"
Garnering his attention, moreso as her flat dish of smeared color appeared beside his head, the plum reptile then looked up to her with a perked brow, with Sparx seated atop his horn.
"Bunch of purple."
"I know. Can you help me real fast?"
Limb lowering from his canvas in a light drag of the brush, he turned bodily toward her.
"Ah, maybe."
"Put your whole paw onto this."
"Onto your paint?"
"Yup.
Hesitantly obliging, sinking his digits into the gooey squish of color, his big eyes flitted up as she pointed to the blank right side of her canvas.
"Go ahead and plant that paw right there."
"Ahm, you sure?"
Nudging his limb free from the palette, she then set her brush onto the lower ledge of the easel, and sank her own palm into the spread of paint in a matching manner.
"I'm sure."
Nostrils puffing with elated realization, he delicately positioned himself closer to her, and planted his open paw onto the canvas. Keeping it flat against the angled surface, he patiently awaited as Elora did the same, pressing her hand into the painting just beside his paw. Peeling away one by one, seeing their digits and pads imprinted together in a regal purple color, Spyro's cheekbones pooled with a rise of heat from his gullet, partly from Elora's fond blush of delight beside.
"That's perfect. Thank you!"
Blinking from her nudge closer and resultant murmur, Spyro looked between their paintings, heart beating with fondness as Elora wiped her hand with an available rag.
You're perfect. Painting, and drawing, and playing magic flutes, and... Everything else you do.
Swallowing, sizzling as he sat captive in admiration, he watched as she finished a series of green and yellow lines and strokes beneath the painted tree and their purple prints. Feeling Sparx crawl down from his horn onto his head, tiny feet padding along his cranial scales, Spyro's paint-laden palm lowered to the grass beneath as Elora turned to him, hands clasped together on her lap.
"All done."
"Yeah?"
"Think so."
"What's that tree?"
Chin sinking into her pale shoulder, her eyes lowered, cheeks aglow with esteem.
"Kind of painted that one oak we climbed in Summer Forest... What do you think?"
Cheekbones rising from grins of recent and tender memory, he nodded readily, Sparx's wings flapping just above from the motion.
"I love it."
Sharing tingles of equivalent enamorment, both creatures remained still, vision tethered to the other's distinctly tinted irides.
I love you, too.
"Oh, Spyro and friend, do pardon my interruption... Are you aware of the gathering this evening in Stone Hill?"
Turning back to Gildas, peeking around his easel, the couple's expressions showed matching question marks.
"Looks to be a no, Gil."
"Gathering?"
"Yes, ah, could call it a dinner party. All that can attend are invited, including the both of you."
Trading a subsequent look with Elora, her brow perked with interest.
Dragon... Party?
"I did not know, but, alright."
"There's a feast to be had soon, my friends."
Seeing Elora begin into a readily interested nod, Spyro twisted back to the artist elders with a growing smile.
"We'll be there."
Passively meandering along large stones bordering the meadow's waterfall-fed pool, in a lazy heading around the perimeter of the meadow, Elora looked on to the shimmering spills of spring water, gushing from channels and sending gleams of mist into the lush grass and colorful wildflowers surrounding. Stepping up onto the low and flat rockwork, with Spyro's ambling just beside, she then glanced opposite to the portal of Sunny Speedway, only to then notice the trace of color and young eyes peeking out from behind the magical arch.
I see you... Kiddos.
Picturing both Titus and Della's earlier encounters, with the tiny girl dragon asking a barrage of questions to satiate her curiosity, Elora then eyed her male partner just beside, heart beating in a sudden realization.
"Hey, Spyro."
"Yo."
"I've, um, kind of noticed something."
"Yeah? What?"
"Why haven't we met any other dragons your age?"
Hooves slowing to a halt as Spyro abruptly ceased his onward plod, the plum dragon planted his rear into the grass, tail laying oddly still as he looked up into the sky.
"I was the only male in my group of eggs."
"The only one?"
Sighing into a nod, his head rolled aside onto his shoulder toward her.
"Its a weird feeling."
"Where's all the girls?"
"In other realms."
Squinting at him from the simple answer, his expression did not waver.
"I'm serious. They're out in other lands."
"You've never met them?"
"If I did when I was tiny, I don't remember."
"How does everyone live together?"
"We don't. Separate societies."
"Why?"
"Population control."
Leaning aside, Elora's arms crossed beneath an unexpected smirk.
"Can't keep your paws off each other, huh?"
"Nope. The dozen-year rituals are a bit wild... From what I've overheard."
Eyebrows rising along with her grin, she grunted.
"Rituals."
"Mating parties."
"Thought so. You dragons aren't just horny on your noggins..."
Laughing from her remark, Spyro lightly shook his head.
"Even with that, ever since my hatching as the only male, the elders decreed that twice as many eggs are to be created next time, in order to prevent another shortage of males."
"Twice as... Is that why you were so busy in the forgotten realms?"
"Busy rescuing one hundred and fifty one little siblings? Yes."
Expression softening, discerning a memory of fireworks exploding on a starry evening, Elora's folded arms relaxed. With pale digits sliding along her forearm and braking to a halt on her wrist, picturing the first time both of them leaned together into a cozy cuddle, a seep of breath issued free beneath her nose.
"You were the only boy... Out of seventy-five dragon kids?"
Spyro's wings drooped in answer.
"No brothers. Just distant sisters."
Stepping closer, hooves lowering onto the grass, she eyed him fondly.
"Then you're something special. Purple boy."
"That's what the elders used to tell me... Then it got to my head, and I wanted to go out and prove myself to be what everyone said I was, as the only young dude of the bunch."
"And in your prime of rearing, Gnasty Gnorc came along, and the legend of Spyro began."
Seeing Elora's hands fan outward in an illustrious gleam of storytelling, his smile curled into a confident smirk, tail-tip swaying with re-energized flits.
"It did. My destiny is to go out and kick some ass."
Capturing her tongue-tip between her teeth, she hummed with amusement.
"He's an ass kicking artisan, watch out."
"Ooh, yes. I like that. Nice one."
Foreleg rising, clawed toes curling, he offered his fist to Elora, pleased to see her bump it in a returning collision of knuckles.
"You're welcome. Spyrocles."
Chin rising, his rear arched upward into a back and forth stretch.
"Thaaaat's meee."
Stone Hill, Artisan Realm, Dragon Kingdom
With the conclusive crunch and thud of one last length of a large split log, positioned to rest in a conical tower and surrounded by a full compliment of surplus timber staged around it, the darkening blue and purple hues of the evening sky suddenly yielded to a bloom of ground-level light as two magenta-tinted dragons, scale-armored Halvor and hammer-tailed Ragnar, crouched low and released simultaneous jets of flame from their throats into the tinder. Increasing the intensity of their own expulsions, the center of the tower of logs was suddenly host to a draft-driven roar of combining fire, blasting glowing fragments and ash high into the air with ferocity.
Bearing witness to the thunderous column of fire, scorching segments of felled trees with wafts of fresh smoke swirling, Elora gripped her seat with a strong squeeze amid the ripples of outward heat, staring at the unyielding ignition with primal unease until both of the elder dragons ceased blowing into the bonfire. With a sudden calming of the gaseous monster, tamely licking at the started timber with crackles and dancing undulations of hot vapors, a held breath issued from her chest, and Spyro's head lowered to rest on her thigh, pulling her attention down to the gentle eyes of her companion.
"You alright?"
"That... Fire lighting was just a little intense."
"Oh."
"Fine now." Maybe.
"Oh-kay, good."
Glancing aside in a slight turn from a variety of voices, seeing the upright arrival of several now-familiar elder dragons of various colors and builds, Spyro's tail-tip coiled up and down with visible interest.
"...Anyways, now that the bonfire is going, food and stuff should start happening."
"Ooh. Dinner date?"
Rolling his head aside, horn bumping her knee, a grin of pointed teeth flashed onto his big-cheeked face.
"Yes."
Peering beyond the undulating flames from a distinct clatter of metal, Elora's attention alighted upon a thorny crimson dragon laden with knives and cooking utensils, with two large sacks held over his shoulders by both arms. Just behind, another lizard carried a long narrow table and a collection of pans and pots, producing the noise that readily garnered the attention of the surrounding population. With several standing dragons converging on and heartily greeting the individual that Elora then realized was a chef, she eyed the aggressively spiked reptile, noticing his absence of outward emotion as he began setting up the provided table, accepting an errant delivery of platters from an unobserved direction.
"Spyro."
"Mm?"
"Who's the chef?"
Twisting around to the direction of Elora's pointed finger, he joined the faun in observing rapid cleaver swipes a short distance away.
"Him? That's Alvar."
Chopping apart flanks of chicken and lamb and sausage, and then wiping his cleaver with a rag, the crimson lizard began dicing numerous slices of vegetables in succession and dragging them across the cutting board onto a platter. Spritzing the combinations with tosses of seasonings, the crimson dragon then handed off two large food-laden platters to a dragon beyond his table. With no visible pause in his labors, systematically creating more servings, the assisting elder began exchanging fresh portions for fire-cooked servings, steaming from the eager flames that he stuck his arms into with nary a flinch or recoil from the heat.
"He's fast."
"Oh yeah. He's our food ninja. Won't be long before everybody's kicking back and eating here."
Flitting left and right at the still-growing population of reptilian beasts standing around and reclining near the bonfire, Elora then touched her leafy stomach, noticed by Spyro.
"Hungry?"
"Little bit. Watching him do all that isn't helping."
"You should go tell him what you'd like."
Eyes meeting, Spyro lifted his head free from her thigh, rising into an upright seat.
"...Go for it."
"Okay. Alright. I'll be back!"
Pushing free from the lumber-constructed seat and meandering in a wary perimeter around the fire, Elora carefully stepped between several great beasts conversing and eying her in passing with interest and wordless acknowledgements. Arms daintily winding around her sides, hiding behind her back as she silently zeroed in on the ceaselessly moving Alvar, her hooves then halted in the darkening grass. With big eyes blinking in increasing curiosity, Elora patiently inspected the chef's setup as pleasant hints of fresh meals met her nose.
"Ahm, hello."
"Evening."
Captive in ongoing fascination from the spiked creature's motions, she swallowed from his prompt and short response.
"I'm... I was told to seek your handiwork."
"A gut feeling, I imagine."
Blinking from the unexpected pun exiting the dragon's otherwise serious demeanor, she shyly nodded.
"Kind of."
"What do you prefer to eat, young lady?"
"Oh, mm, I almost always, well... My diet is mostly plants. Fruit, vegetables, whatever I happen upon, really."
Seeing the brow furrow on the crimson chef's fire-lit expression, taking hold of a pan fresh from the flames, he began splitting apart the sizzling flank with the broad-bladed knife in hand, and Elora's palms tightened together behind her back.
"...Is that alright?"
The flicker of consternation on the chef's snout relaxed into a smile from her atypical response.
"Of course its alright. I wouldn't expect any different from a woodland herbivore."
Gesturing outward to the surrounding population of winged reptiles, cleaver still in his grasp, Alvar grunted.
"A majority of meals I prepare for my brethren are mostly meat, with few exceptions. I'll be more than happy to provide you a meal without flesh, miss."
"Ooh, yay, thank you!"
"My pleasure. Any preferences with the garden variety?"
"Not that I can think of... I'll try anything you prepare."
"Very well... Glad to hear of another open palate."
Following his resumption of motion, Elora took a single step back, fur rippling from the passing of a hot and smoke-laden breeze.
"Is it alright if I observe?"
Chin rising as he plucked a tomato from one of the sharp spikes on his tail, replacing it with another in a precise spearing, Alvar sectioned the vegetable into chunks, sweeping them aside into a growing pile.
"Please do."
Cleaving apart other greens and casting intersecting splashes of oil onto their sections, and then scooping the entire lot into full-pawed plop into a freshly wiped pan, Alvar thrust it towards his fire-tending assistant to cook in the bonfire. Resigning to a seat nearby, sinking cross-legged into the orange and black grass, Elora's arms propped herself upward from behind, basking in the sweeps of savory and sharp scents. Then, after a swift and distracted period of high-temperature cooking, the pan was yanked out of the base of the fire, and several squealing chunks of vegetable hopped skyward from the superheated iron as it was brought back to the chef. Forcing a thin spatula beneath the mound of steaming vegetable cuts, a cacophony of hisses ensued as the mixture was stirred in a strong-armed spin of sauteing, finally being spritzed with flings of seasonings and turned over once more. With a lean aside, plucking a broad platter from a neat stack, Alvar then dumped the entire lot onto the flat dish, patiently ensuring every last bit exited the pan.
"Miss faun... I do recommend you let this lot rest."
Turning aside and offering the prepared meal in a patient lowering, Elora immediately neared the thorny lizard, feasting her young and eager eyes onto the colorful spread of seasoned and fire-singed vegetables, spread into an even heap on a wide and pleasantly cool clay plate.
"Oh my stars, this looks amazing. Thank you!"
Freeing the large platter into her grasp beneath a following bow, the middle-aged reptile's smile remained from the twinkle in the eyes of the still-unnamed mammalian guest, briefly observing her turn and excited full-armed amble around the ongoing bonfire.
When and where did that one appear...?
Turning his attention into the busied table once more, reaching back and plucking a large pepper free from a near thorn, Alvar split the vegetable along its own gouge with a quick slap of the cleaver. Peeking back up and leaning to the right, spotting the mysterious creature seating herself beside a readily attentive and golden-crested Spyro, Alvar's throat rippled in a hum.
Ah. Another of Spyro's finds... Haven't heard a peep of her yet.
Looking left and right, flanked by a curving ensemble of elder dragons varying in every manner of size, build and age, seated around them and chowing down just as Spyro said, Elora's hands initially lay idle on the edges of the plate in her lap. Returning to her male partner as he inspected thin seeps of steam escaping the mound of darkened food with interest, nostrils wiggling from inward pulls of the singed and great-smelling veggies, Elora's cheeks cracked into a grin as his big and curious eyes youthfully alighted to her height in silent asking.
"Go for it. There's plenty to share."
"Awesome."
Twisting down and snatching an open-fanged mouthful, and then pausing from the hunger-fueled and predatory devour, Spyro lifted his snout higher, turning away to the fire and patiently and quietly grinding the captured mash of vegetables within full cheeks. Peeking back at Elora, seeing her lifting a captured mouthful beneath her pale nose, devoid of assisting fingers, his big cheekbones stayed warm even after turning away from the bonfire. Taking another smaller mouthful from the available meal, he then eyed the plate's rise and shift of movement, with Elora crossing her legs beneath. Suddenly finding the arrival of her now-freed arms, with one grazing his crest in passing, he eyed her fondly as her teal irides teasingly eluded sight, sinking to the platter perched on her knees. Swallowing amid a deceleration of chewing, the purple reptile observed Elora's dexteral and precise delivery of finger-sized portions to her busy mouth, imagining having the same mastery of grasping with his own inner toes.
Realizing her quadruped companion was actively attentive to her hands, her head sank into a tiny tilt, blooming with interest from his idle mouth. Slipping her fur-lined fingertips beneath a new scoop of what appeared to be pepper and onion, she neared his chin, finally attracting his flitting and patiently blinking eyes, pushing higher beneath his broad eyebrows as his jaw carefully parted beneath. Holding still as numerous tips of his pointed teeth met both edges of her palm, dragging inward in a clam-shell scoop, he lifted higher, and her fingers spread as fur pulled free from between his teeth. Already a little tingly from the odd tugging sensation, her nostrils flared with a bump in heartbeat as his slick tongue drug back-and-forth across her palm in what was assumed to be him cleaning.
Oooh, ahah... "You and that big tongue."
"It does shtuff."
Slobbered fingers promptly finding his scaly chin, lifting his head higher as the tasting member vanished into his closing maw, her tail flitted unseen behind her seated rump as his pointed teeth returned in a cheeky smile, cupped in her grasp.
"Oh, I'm aware."
Releasing his chin and reverting to the marvelously scented pile beneath, the young couple earnestly continued consumption of the vegetable variety saute, blasting their senses with tastes both sharp and sweet, and others oily and crispy.
Gosh this is good... Purposefully burned by fire? Who knew?
Flitting aside, seeing the flame-illuminated profiles of content and still-consuming dragons seated and relaxing in various postures, the young faun swallowed another gulp of the swiftly-disappearing dinner.
Everyone here knows, I guess. Every single dragon here is keen on fire. I'm just the odd one out right now. Can't burn stuff on demand or fly up into the sky... Even so, the amount they've all welcomed me, so kindly, I've hardly felt like a stranger. Really is nice for being somewhere brand new. Sure is some crazy feeling too, being shoulder to shoulder with all these huge lizards, and they're all being social and peacefully enjoying themselves... I must be witnessing something pretty wild.
Splitting a combination of tomato and pepper with her front teeth, she distractedly nudged in all four partitions with her index finger, pushing it aside into a juicy and thorough crushing.
Folks in Avalar had not seen dragons for ages until we snagged Spyro, and many of these dragons here said they've never seen my kind here. Mm, well, not never, but its just been a while. A thousand years or so of recent memory. Long time for no contact... Which makes one wonder what happened. All sorts of tomes say dragons once lived all over the place, but things kept happening, and they keep moving around... And now these realms are their home... With all of the girl dragons somewhere else. Now that I think about it... I'm sure half of these males here are just surprised to see a female at all, wandering around their home.
Brow furrowing, flitting down to Spyro's weight pressing onto her right leg, Elora then realized he had since ceased eating, laying his head to rest on the edge of the platter and leaving one remaining portion of the meal untouched.
"That for me?"
"All of it. I had a bunch... Sorry."
Plopping her hand onto his cranium and ruffling his gold crest, she hummed, taking several slices with her other digits.
"You're fine. I've had a good amount."
Startled as Spyro's head perked in an upward craning after mere seconds of resting, attentive to an arriving realization, Elora's hand retreated, knuckles bouncing against his horn as he stood to his feet on the bench.
"I just remembered a thing, give me... Just a moment."
Springing aside in a turn, tail-point flicking near to the outward reaches of the bonfire, Spyro began into a bouncy full-bellied trot around the bordering rocks, leaving Elora unexpectedly bereft and solitary.
"Ah, kay!"
Hesitantly finishing the remainder of the crisped slices that floated in a thin bath of seasoned oil, she then sucked her coated fingertips, tempering a hot tingle of uncertainty with the intimate and delicious thought of the dragon's tongue curling around her digits.
This stuff the chef guy added sure is yummy, dang.
Looking initially for the movements of the thorny adult dragon, then realizing the absence of color in the evening sky, a pair of big eyes and amber horns bounded to a halt just beneath, and Spyro's arrival ended with a plop of a wide and rough chunk of something onto the platter. Immediately inspecting the delivered object, discerning frost-like gleams on the ridges of the mottled mystery that revealed a surface of tree bark, Elora's expression broadened in realization.
"Is this..."
"This is that sweet bark stuff."
"Oh, cool. How do you..."
Nearly touching the bark as Spyro's teeth clamped onto it and he twisted down, forcefully splintering the offering with muffled cracks and tearing away a thin length, he began chewing the apparently edible mouthful with a slow and vigorous mashing.
"...Just like that, okay."
Peeling away a still-thinner and fibrous sliver, realizing the tough plant fiber was unexpectedly cool to the touch, she clamped her side teeth onto it, tearing away a single bite and nudging it into her mouth. Blinking immediately from the pleasantly sweet flavor sweeping across her palate, akin to vanilla and wild mint, she then jammed another bite of the snack in, chewing away with increasing acceptance and saliva. Sitting together with goofy smiles spread across busily bobbing cheekbones, chomping away at the stiff-but-rewarding dessert, the couple's eyes met in the orange flicker of radiant firelight.
"Dish ish good."
"Told yah."
Breaking off additional portions for both of them with strong twists of her fingers, Elora joined Spyro's flit of attention toward a brief rise in adjacent laughter, witnessing the silhouette of a free-standing dragon approach the bonfire, arms raised. Lowering what was discerned to be a twine-bound bush onto the flames, the offering was eagerly consumed by the flames with a fierce crackling, creating an outward expulsion of sparkling mana, riding abreast of a large and poofy expansion of smoke. Spreading outward in cresting and spiraling tumbles over numerous horned and frilled heads, the cloud began dispersing into a thin fog-like layer that faded into a shimmer of descending dissolution, sinking into a blanket across the surrounding land. Following the earth-bound star field, focusing on a small view of falling twinkles as they snowed onto the hewn bench plank, Elora then watched as eerie streams of clearer air appeared, streaming inward into the bonfire to feed the gaseous beast's demanding draft. Pulling a majority of the sparkles into torrents of atmospheric absorption, the twinkling fog all but vanished into the bonfire's roaring bowels of vaporization.
Uh, hm.
Ears perking from the introduction of plucked musical notes, sourced from a yet-unseen string instrument, Elora's attention yanked away from the center of the bonfire, thankfully distracted from the white-hot combustion of wooden fuel within.
"Who's... Playing?"
"Tomas. You haven't met him, I think."
"Oh."
Realigning to the dessert, taking one of the new fragments, Spyro's tail weaved calmly as the glimmering drifts of twinkles and ash silently returned amid the bassy strums, now floating lackadaisically and nearly weightless in the air. Simply smiling amid his chewing, his nostrils rose higher, intaking several pulls of the mildly pungent tendrils of thin vapor. Squinting, nose rising with innocent curiosity to sample the energy charged presence, Elora's jaw resumed mashing of the treat as she breathed, pausing from the trickle of saliva that worked free from the corner of her lips. Shoving her shoulder along her chin in an obtuse wipe of fur, blinking with one eye shut as the minty mouthful tingled with a wash of arctic air, icebergs seemed to crystallize across her tongue as it fought through an ocean of saliva.
Cool. That mint... Wintergreen?
Left unanswered as another dragon to her left flung a splash of liquid onto the flames, suddenly introducing an explosion of colors that rippled up along the inferno in a brilliant display, several dominant shades remained, tinting many of the great flames into vivid hues. Eyes both wide from the bursts of potion-induced color, radiating across the local population of reptiles in changing flickers of spectrum-wide light, Elora's vision descended onto Spyro beside her. Still chewing, now magnetized to his colorful glow, with his big eyes receptive to the still-cycling tinting, her heartbeat increased in a quickening and deepening throb, tolling in a thrum that echoed clearly in her head.
You're looking... Really amazing. You were purple, and now you're... Orange. And pink. And... Yes. Mm. Like that shade.
Feeling frozen to the bench beneath his claws and bottom, his tail completely still amid the continued strums of Tomas' Lute, Spyro's eyes darted back and forth at Elora's shoulders, seeing broad pale-feathered wings spreading in a dramatic unfurl beneath her shifting ears. Not entirely certain if she had conjured a magic spell or was somehow hiding this proud wingspan in her leafy attire the entire time, Spyro's own wingspan began unfolding, spreading out and upward, his wingtips meeting and framing his horns in a peaked fan shape. Studiously observing her wings' teasing undulations, with solitary feathers working loose and floating freely to their ends in the fire, Spyro began into several blinks, realizing that he was reacting subconsciously to the sight of wings sprouting from Elora.
"Whoa."
"Whoa."
Similarly recoiling from her matching vocalization, Spyro's rear legs shot upright, and he thrust his nearer wing forward. Briefly befuddled from the lizard's physical communication, she slid the heavy plate on her lap aside, letting it drop onto the bench beneath with two obvious thuds. Reaching up and touching the nub of his pointed wingtip, grasping the bony structure in its entirety with fingertips sliding onto the spanning and glowing flesh, her free hand slapped onto the bench beneath as her legs began working backward, knees aligning into an upright stance behind the long and narrow seat. Hooves testing the squish of wild grass beneath, seeing Spyro's clawed feet appear beside her fur-trimmed toes, he ushered her aside into motion.
"Uh, where to?"
"Not sure. Around the fire? Kinda full of... My legs aren't wanting to be still."
"Ahm, okay. I'm with you."
Fumbling into motion, arm and wing slackening as she matched his pace, the young couple weaved around behind silhouetted backs and over errant tails of seated and reclining dragons. Diligently following Spyro's amble around the fire pit, channeling a great deal of attention to her hoof-fall parallel to his pathing, various issues of laughter both light and hearty seemed to pace their revolution. Glancing across her shoulder, seeing numerous glints of wayward eyes from speaking and silent elder dragons, many displayed hints of amusement on the edges of their sizable silhouettes, decorating their ever-varying features illustrated by the orange ripples of fire. Keeping a firm hold of Spyro's wing, navigating the radius of what was becoming an endlessly long turn, her vision bounced along the various bends of his flight surface. Splitting the difference between his horns, realizing they were now wandering away from the heat and light as his head disappeared within her shadow, Elora peered ahead into the empty vacuum beyond, only for an inevitable dilation to reveal the curved surface of a wall, dimly reflecting the bonfire that was now confusingly distant.
"Hey."
"We're going to... There's a, um, tower here."
"Oh, mkay. That thing?"
"This thing."
Nudging around blocks of inset stone into a dark doorway, immediately greeted by a swirling shaft of magic forming a whirlwind, Elora's brow quirked, moreso as Spyro's forward walk turned into an upward pull, lifting him entirely off his feet as her own footfall ceased in the center. Finding herself levitating within the vertical funnel of spatial transit, just beneath Spyro's comically flat-bodied ascent, their single revolution within the tower's shaft ended at the top of the whirlwind, and Spyro's expected glide simply ended as he plopped flat onto the segmented stones of an upper platform. Pulled out of the magic whirl by Spyro's abrupt landing, Elora then produced a squeal as she also encountered gravity, landing on Spyro's scaly flank and flopping onto her side.
"Mmf."
Releasing Spyro's wing and freeing both of their limbs from her weight, she then rolled fully onto her back, eyes opening after the crash.
"Did... We make it?"
"Up on top? Yes."
"Okay. Is this what you... Wow."
Peering aside from Elora's abrupt change in speech and tone, Spyro then turned up along her extended forearm, ending in a dark index finger that pointed to billions of twinkling worlds painted across the black and indigo heavens beyond. Staring at the infinitely reaching sight that was now visible with their distance from the great fire, Spyro rolled fully onto his backside, paws freely drooping.
"Y-Yes."
Largely captivated by the galactic display, remaining despite their fleeting glances at the other, both creatures began a series of wiggles toward the other, bringing warm flanks of muscle together with alternating nudges together along various stretches of their lengths. Coiling his tail around one of her knees, of her right leg that had already articulated around his lower limb, her hand drifted aside to his inactive paw, grazing her knuckles against his outer toe and beneath the curvature of his claws. Rising between his pointed toes in intersection, their digits squeezed together in a comforting affirmation of the other's presence.
"I really like all this... All these things, happening."
"Yeah."
Head revolving aside, ear bending beneath its turn onto the stone below, Elora watched as he turned to match, tucking his horn away with an often-practiced twist.
"...Me too."
Visions alternating up and down across the other's faces, meeting with visible flickers of unspoken and steadily blooming interest, Elora fumbled into a push onto her shoulder. Teetering along the gentle curvature of her side, rolling further and closing the remainder of bodily distance, the sparks of interest ignited into a flame of desire as her lips planted squarely onto the front of his nose, only to sink lower from his puffs of breath, capturing his upper lip with a playful pull of her own. Head turning and maws splitting, tongues clashed into a duet of coalescing muscle slithering together between their teeth, settling into the beginnings of a deep, messy and drooly kiss.
I'm... This is so... This feels like a dream.
Tasting hints of sweet mint and savory smoke, cheeks warming from the flavors mingling in Spyro's saliva, Elora's eyes squeezed shut, chest tingling.
Feels like a dream.
Head relaxing, body growing increasingly heavy, her lips dragged away from his, head lowering to rest on the surface beneath.
Like a dream.
Chest deflating in a seep, feeling fully flattened into the floor she couldn't see, a single groan squeezed free as Spyro's heft lowered onto the side of her leaf-dressed bosom.
A dream.
A dream?
Vision flitting open, tongue uncomfortably dry, Elora pushed upright from her reclined posture on a bumpy log, suddenly realizing she was perched on a large branch above the fuzzy ground. Legs tightening around the wood in a hasty restriction of balance, her lungs expelled a rough breath, producing a cough from the awful inhale of smoke that had filled them.
Ugh, what...
Swiping her eyes clear of fuzz, spreading moisture across them as well, continued intakes of breath brought in more smells of smoke, and her ears perked in alarm from a distant and deep rumble that only the earth itself could produce. Looking up through oddly dark silhouettes of branches of the tree she had been sleeping in, a concerning coloration of smoke-tinted orange remained blotted across the sky. Gripping the thick branch, certain that it wasn't evening yet, her attention began whirling into several directions, finally spotting the distant and brighter glow of the sun. Bursting into motion up through the tree, clambering through the upper reaches of the large organism, she peeked out of an opening with a cautious lean, only to discover that the illumination on the horizon was not the sun, but rather a constant fountain of lava spewing skyward, launching distant comets of molten rock into the already smoke-darkened sky.
Oh... My. That vent wasn't that active this morning. Was it? It was just a little blorping hill with that pool that's been getting bigger, but... This...
Watching the arc and descent of still burning rock land into the dark expanse of forest, her fingers tightened from the resultant illumination of light, staring at the rising glow of ignition that began expanding outward, ejecting waves of sparks into the apparently prevailing wind.
Ah, hah, that's a fire! Is anyone at the temple...?
Leaning forward and looking left around a cluster of shaking leaves, a wall of ashen smoke towered tall above a shimmering and steadily creeping line of bright orange, and her heart plummeted into her stomach, suddenly an audience to the horrific and steady destruction of forest in the distance. Captive and overwhelmed by the unyielding rage of fire, roaring up and over entire hills as it feasted upon the land and all of its fuel, she followed the spread of flame to its nearer curvature, finding the remainder of available breaths were becoming steadily stifling. Attention jerking down with a start from hurried footfall and breathy shouts of several unseen creatures, their passing and quick departure then revealed the increasingly loud roar growing near in her ear. Looking to the darkened horizon once more, suddenly finding the gleam of ignition was eerily closer, the tremendous curtain of smoke churned into the sky, decorated with skyward-sent embers and rippling in abnormal liquidity. Staring beyond the blurs edging into her vision, entire tree-tops vanished into the growing invasion of hostile light, succumbing to gravity in a series of snapping and crumbling collapses, and a cushion of immense heat presented itself in a shocking blast of driven air. Chest heaving with increasing fear, realizing the untamed and faceless monster was rapidly approaching her position, she began jumping down through branches, hooves sliding and deflecting in hurried landings, and many branches simply broke from her abrupt weight, turning into a series of panicked scrambles to control her descent. Releasing her arms from one long branch as it bent low, she dropped in a free-fall to the ground, bouncing in a bent-knee tumble and rolling aside, arms flopping out in a drag through old and dry ground cover. Thrusting herself up from her bosom, head shaking in a quick flick, her chest filled with a gasp of harsh air as a series of large flames jumped across several trees nearby, and falling clusters of branches ablaze spread fire into eager new blooms across the ground, further flooding her vision with the disastrous chaos.
Finally deciding to respond in the face of extreme danger, her legs stomped into the ground, darting into a leap aside and finding an upright stride on her hooves. Turning alongside the furious crackles of swiftly traveling ignition, fully accelerating in a much-overdue departure, trunks of doomed trees whipped past both of her shoulders, and she glanced aside at the gigantic flames that seemed intent on ushering her to the right.
No! Stop, making, me...
Genuinely entertaining the terrifying thought of being encircled by the flames, adrenaline splashed into her motor receptors that were already subject to her mind's unconscious survival commands. Glancing fearfully toward the swirling walls of combustion drawing near, only to realize a broad opening in the trees just ahead, she leaned lower into a dogged sprint, confirming the wall of flame had parted around a stagnant pond. Soaring into the shallow pool with a grunt, sending a splashing burst of water into the smoldering grass beyond, she stepped back and forth in submerged soil, and then charged forward, ducking low beneath actively ablaze branches and stomping swiftly over fallen trunks and the dying flames consuming their husks. Becoming more and more apparent that she was heading deeper into the burn zone, studded with black and white skeletons of still-burning foliage among glowing ember-laden stumps, the immediate aftermath of the ferocious blaze filled her stinging eyes, and a haunting wail of heat-driven wind wound among the spindly remains, carrying smoldering wisps through the thoroughly scorched wasteland. Looking across her shoulder, searching vainly for signs of the moving firestorm but only finding countless billows of smoke rising, her vision flitted forward, suddenly finding the end of a branch reaching for her head, snagging her left ear in a quick and stinging strike. Gasping, and then forcing the hot and unwelcome inhalation back out, her legs locked into a skittering halt, kicking tufts of warm ashes and debris forth. Grasping her ear with her fingers, wincing from the immediate introduction of pain, her nostrils flared from the tear in her flesh that dampened her fingertips, and then filled her eyes with tears in sequence.
Everything is burning, and my... My, nngh... What kind of nightmare is this?!
Hustling into motion in a wary heading, still holding her ear and hurrying past a large boulder decorated with carvings and blackened patches of moss, Elora's weakening running brought her past the only recognizable landmark to a tree-less opening, revealing knolls of open and partially burnt grass. Looking on to the still-standing temple crowning the tallest hillock, with eyes streaming uncontrollably from the unbearably hostile environment, her heart throbbed miserably from the flight for her life.
Thank goodness... This place still... Uh, oh. No.
Inching forward in a difficult plod, confirming the glowing presence of an ongoing lava flow mere steps beyond, she looked further to the right, finding the belching fountain of fire in the distance, and then its meandering web of channels cutting through the area's various depressions. Turning from the boiling heat of the giant hazard, pacing along the bank of the molten river, she squinted towards a narrow in the flow. Increasing her speed one more time, hobbling downhill, she held her breath and sprung into a hopeful heave, fairly certain her tail had burst into flames from the searing heat enveloping her rump. Landing on hard ground, stumbling forward with not-melting hooves, her arms thrust out in absorption of her subsequent landing onto crunchy grass and warm dirt.
Okay. Okay. Never... Ever... Jumping over lava again, if I don't... Need to.
Fingers spreading and pushing herself up, mouth opening from a swirl of aches and stinging pain, recurrent blurs of tears pooled and fell free from her eyes, dripping onto the suffocating earth beneath.
Never... Ever... Coming back here... Either!
Clambering back onto her feet, into a sobbing march uphill into unburned grass, her vision swept across the gloom of an ensuing disaster seemingly spreading in all directions beneath the dark red sky. Spotting the corona of the actual sun, setting over distant mountains and finally fighting through the leaden screen of haze, she squinted with disdain at the pitiful orb of light above the horizon of apocalyptic obliteration.
This can't be real... Can't... How is this, rrruh, real?
Arms reaching out, with only one hand clasping around the angled frame of the temple's entrance, her other hand feebly nudged the structure's door open. Head pounding from already short and fume-heavy breath, ducking beneath the iron riveted plating, her eyes alighted upon the arch of an active portal standing within the structure's central room. Holding her breath, vision already growing faint from asphyxiation, gleaming brass letters floated above the much kinder colors portrayed beneath, and she briefly imagined fighting through shorter and darker colored siblings, arms reaching forward and phasing into the energy field that she had seldom entered.
I don't need... Permission... To stay alive!
Flopping into the dim interior of a castle corridor on the other side of the magic-powered passage, gasping for breath and thankfully finding air devoid of heat and pollution, her lungs burned as they infused her being with desperately sought respiration from a completely different world. Pawing forward, legs dragging as they awaited strength, she resigned to simply laying still, cheek and ear both flat on the cool floor.
Okay... We're out... Here.
Head turning upright, chin pushing onto the floor, she then peeked aside, seeing a drop of blood drip free from her own ear, splashing onto the tiled stone.
Oww.
Meandering through a series of exploratory twists and turns, and down several strange wide ladders, a weary Elora took tiny steps up a long slope of the castle's grassy pasture, with gentle grass and yellowing trees protected from the fire and fury somewhere beyond. As if to defy the sentiment, a strong bloom of light entered her eye and she turned away in prompt avoidance, finding her own shadow emblazoned onto the stone wall beside.
Huh?
Startled by the presence of another much larger shadow gaining detail around her own silhouette, taking the form of an immense winged creature, its head turned upward, seemingly producing the eruption of light above. Whirling around wide eyed to the bright source, only to squint from the innocent rays of the sun, her vision lowered to a creature's silent and reserved profile, sitting on the hillside and watching her. Discerning its purple color beneath the light, she began stepping closer to it, and with an entrance into the shadow of several large trees beyond, her mouth opened with recognition, but the spoken name of the seemingly awaiting dragon remained stuck in her parched throat. Recoiling in a startled whimper as its wings abruptly flapped, spreading in a broad expanse over the grass, the appendages then rose free and folded in retraction, revealing an encroaching burn pattern that began taking the form of giant wings around them both. Staring at the symmetrical darkening of grass in equal speed and distance, fading into a smolder near her feet, Elora carefully stepped onto the scorched grass, closing the physical distance between herself and the only other creature present. Reaching forward and shakily touching the tip of the dragon's nose, palm flattening on it, her brow sank into a furrow, chest tingling with still-nameless recognition.
I'm not afraid.
Locked into an unwavering stare at the dragon's giant eyes, her hand bloomed with steadily increasing heat, and her heart pounded, face to face with the historically misunderstood species.
"I'm not afraid."
A draft of hot exhalation issued along her wrist from the dragon's parting snout, and Elora stared at the bloom of fire visibly licking around her hand. Watching with increasing disbelief as little flames crept up among her fingers, wiggling from the tips with no resultant pain or burning fur, her ignited digits wound around the snout of the golden-horned dragon, lifting its nose higher and taking in its intense patience with parting lips.
"I'm not afraid of the fire within you."
Tenderly cupping its jaw, sinking closer as its head turned in a subtle tilt, both creatures of vastly differing development nudged together into a closed-eye kiss. Suddenly recipient of a jet of flame spilling into her throat, a bloom of heat erupted inside her head, and Elora's eyes squeezed shut as tightly as she could muster, finally freeing the name lodged in her gullet.
...Spyro.
Eyelids parting one by one in numerous blinks, only to slap shut from the glare of early morning sunshine streaming into her face, Elora twisted with a groan. Bringing her vision away from the light, her irides reopened to clouds of cool mist lifting from undulations of lush green hills into a young blue sky.
Wha... Oof.
Pushing upright and stretching from her apparent resting place, she found Spyro's very real heft snuggled onto her legs, still asleep and providing his comforting glow of warmth.
Mmm. Morning. Sleepy.
Mouth opening into a yawn, processing fading imagery of a long and fiery dream, she settled into a lean back on her arms, gazing with a throbbing heart at the resting reptile on her lap.
"Spyro."
Reaching forward after her own whisper, she pet his head lovingly, fingertips winding around his horns and pushing into his bristled crest.
"...You're in my dreams too." Fire breather.
