XVIII
A roar of insane, battle-hungry pirates echoed throughout the hot ships of the Skavengers. It was the day of the tournament. Thousands of creatures filled the seats within the ship where the battles would take place, all shouting and hooting with excitement, barely able to contain themselves, and for good reason.
The main attraction was there. Spyro, the Purple Dragon, was going to be a competitor today. Not only was he, but Cynder, another allegedly powerful dragon was to fight today as well, plus hundreds of capable fighters who were to battle them and each other as well.
Skabb, and the captains, Scratch and Sniff, sat in their throne, just above the circular battle ground. Behind them, a mountain of treasure shined in the sunlight that leaked from above. Among them, the remaining four wishing stones sat within the treasures, shining an array of colors as usual.
The Captains couldn't be happier. Such an amazing turnout, and, the Purple Dragon showed up just last night. Now they had a chance to see just what the purple dragon had in store for them. Well, assuming he willingly fights.
Scratch himself was hoping that both he and Cynder would survive and make it to the finals. What glorious destruction would come if those two fought, one on one, against each other. This was shaping up to be the best tournament they will ever have!
"Alright, idiot," he called to the drooling Skabb. "Let us begin the tournament."
Skabb nodded, his tongue swinging and flinging spit across their throne. The pirate lumbered over to the wooden railing that separated them from the battlefield below.
"Skavengers!" Scratch roared to the audience, who turned their attention towards him, shouting their enthusiasm.
"Today, is to be a great day. Today, is the day of the yearly death tournament, and one none of us, will soon forget!"
He paused as the crowd continued to hoot.
"For today, we have a sudden entry into our tournament. His kind has existed, for thousands of years! He has been known as a Savior, and a destroyer as well. Today, he is the main attraction, and the most powerful dragon alive, the one, the only, Spyro, the Purple Dragon!"
Assuming he made it out of this, Spyro knew he'd be in so much trouble. But, the fear of fighting, losing, and dying had a stronger grip on him at that time.
He shyly walked out of the opening gate, surrounding by nothing but brown, wooden walls, and Skavengers, who cursed at him and threw refreshments at him. His eyes filled with tears, but he fought against them. His legs shook, his eyes dashed around the battlefield, and his mouth hung open.
He realized suddenly as he stood in the center of the arena. He was older now, but, he was still the scared, fragile little dragon that he was. His age and appearance has changed, yes, but he wasn't a braver, calmer, and stronger teenage Spyro, but just a little purple dragon, in the center of madness around him.
He jumped when Scratch continued his speech. "Spyro will face another dragon for the first match. His name is Damu. His element is merely Ice, but, he shouldn't be underestimated, as he is very strong regardless."
A large, icy blue dragon emerged from the gate. He was fairly young, his two horns white and pointing up from his forehead. His yellow eyes centered on Spyro, and he scoffed, a confident smile appearing on his face.
Spyro barely heard him through the intense screaming. "The purple dragon, eh? This ought to be fun, I've never had such a powerful and famous opponent here before."
Across his body there were many scars, many appearing to be old, deep scratches and stab wounds. The dragon appeared to be a veteran here, having fought many battles before.
"The rules are simple, everyone. Fight until you die, pass out, or win!" Scratch bowed dramatically. "Now... BEGIN!"
Spyro's paws grew cold below him. He launched himself to the side, just barely avoiding massive ice spikes. Had he not been trained, he would've been a hanging corpse just then.
He recovered just quickly to see Damu's tail swinging at him. His body erupted in pain as he slammed into the wall, then thudded hard on the floor. His vision was blurry, and his back now was ablaze in pain, but he managed to stand.
Damu wasted no time. He sailed toward Spyro full speed, his horns pointed into the teenage dragon's chest, intended to kill him. Spyro shook his head, clearing his vision, and launched into the air, Damu halting just below him.
He had to find a way out of here. The ceiling was open surprisingly. He rushed toward the exit, ignoring all the taunts and booing of the heathens below him.
Suddenly, he began to violently shake in the air, stopping mid-flight. Spyro merely groaned as electricity coursed through him, looking as if he were in his own personal earthquake. He froze when the electricity left his body, and he began to descend quickly, right back into the arena.
Spyro tried to move, to flap his wings, hoping to at least glide, but it was no use. He saw the Skavengers and their captain, Skabb, upside down, just before he collided with the hard floor below.
He slammed into the hard floor, blacking out upon impact.
Just as the tournament was underway, Gaul, after being out in this ancient temple for an entire, agonizing week, had nearly achieved what he'd came here for. Suffice to say, he hadn't had the most fun these past seven days. This temple was easily greedier than any dragon, ape, or ancestors damned cheetah he'd ever seen. First, it wanted a little, then, it want gallons and gallons of blood.
Gaul sat outside of the temple on the seventh day as he thought of this, his eyes bloodshot, and his shoulders slouched. He was tired, looking as if he had the worst hangover of the millennium.
He had stayed awake all night last night, assisting his comrades in gathering blood, as his injured soldiers were still recovering. Despite all of his stamina, and year after of intense training, traveling for miles with little food or water, time and time again, had finally drained him.
His eyes flickered as he leaned on the column. Finally, he thought, I am to get my rest.
"Sir?"
"What?"
"We think it's done." The medic said, his form also tired as well.
Gaul got to his feet slowly. It was maybe an hour or two out from noon. The heat was already excruciating, and it helped little with his fatigue.
The news, however, brought an energized smile to the ape general's face.
"Show me."
He followed the medic into the temple, his smile not so much as fading when his nose was hit by the smell of burnt flesh. The two stood around the altar, which seemed to darken the room around them. A calm, almost silent pulsing sound could be heard within the room, like a heartbeat. Dried blood surrounded the altar, and the stench of it and flesh was strong.
The medic pointed at the altar, turning to Gaul. "It just... started to pulse quietly like a heartbeat, almost as if it were alive. The bear we caught yesterday had satisfied it, and when we brought it another one this morning, it absorbed half of it, and the rest of it just... dissolved."
Frowning, Gaul placed a hand on the altar and examined the small structure with curiosity. Immediately, it's "heartbeat" beat faster upon his touch.
He tapped it. Then, he let go of it, and it softened. Again, he put his hand on it, and it intensified again.
"If it's complete, then maybe it wants us to do something to activate it," the ape said, kneeling down to him.
"It better not be more sacrifices..."
The ground below them began to tremble suddenly, catching them off guard. In a matter of seconds, it grew, from a simple tremor to an earthquake. The apes sprinted out of the temple, wanting to avoid it's collapse, but the shaking didn't cease.
"What the hell is happening? An earthquake?"
The ground around the temple erupted, the dirt launching into the air. The apes regrouped, along with the injured ones, who looked better than they had before, and watched their surroundings.
When the explosions of dirt settled, bony corpses arose from the ground. Not a few, not a dozen, but hundreds, across the landscape. They growled and roared at the small, exposed group of ape warriors.
"Ah, well, it appears that this may be the final step."
Gaul drew his swords, his lips curving into a smile of blood lust. "How so?"
"It seems that these "things" have arose due to the temple's power, since they're shrouded in dark energy and, well, rising from the ground."
The apes got ready for battle. The small army of undead, consisting of deceased apes, dragons, bears and more, charged towards them at full speed.
With a mighty roar, the apes charged them themselves, ready for an intense and exiting battle.