Legend of Spyro: Stormfront
Chapter 27
So I'm alive! I know right? Sorry I've been gone so long. I'll try to get back to the regular updates now.
A nimble cloaked figure ran across the forest floor, leaping over the undergrowth with grace and speed unmatched by most. Here and there he would leap up to a tree branch to clear a particularly large obstacle, but as all cats do he landed perfectly.
This cycle had been going on for a little over a day now, and was only broken by the occasional field or meadow. But the cat ignored any of the sights that nature offered him. It would be several more hours before he reached his destination and he had no time to sit and lounge about taking in the atmosphere.
However, he could not keep up this break neck pace forever. The feline noticed the aching in his limbs, and soreness in his joints. That was when he realized how long he had been running; almost since dawn he had been going. His body was screaming at him to stop, but his mind was telling him to push on. The Guardians needed the intelligence only he could provide.
The cloaked cat pushed on for another half hour before his muscles could go no further and he broke his pace, kneeling over and gasping for breath. He limped over slowly to a tree and slid his back down its trunk. His throbbing legs cried with joy at not having to move.
He let his gasping breath slow for a little before taking a drink from his water skin. The cool water ran down his parched throat and gave him some much needed relief. He sat for a little while longer before reaching once more into his cloak and pulling from a hidden pocket a small amount of dried meat. The meat was the only thing he had brought with him other than his bow and quiver, the little water he carried with him, a knife strapped to his leather belt, and a length of rope. The meal was very salty, and only parched his throat once more, which he relieved with another drought from his water skin.
After resting for only a few minutes more he stood and stretched his limbs, especially his legs. Before he left, however, he checked how much daylight he had left by climbing the large leafy oak tree he under which he had taken his rest, scaring a family of squirrels to near death. The sun was nearing about halfway down from its zenith, which meant he only had a few hours of day time left. He quickly made his way back down the tree.
He once more set off at his former pace, only encouraged to run faster because of the sun. He reasoned that to make it back to the Guardians with any useful information in time he needed to at least reach the burned lands tonight, if not make some headway into them. He pressed on.
Another hour of running or so passed, and his senses started to pick up a new smell, one stinking smell like that of rotten eggs. He also noticed that the trees began to take on a more sickly appearance, for here they were not nearly as tall, and their leaves were a greenish-yellow. The forest soon began to give way to blackened portions here and there, where no life grew. Soon the undergrowth was almost completely gone, and only a black ashy floor remained with the burned bottom trunks of oak trees that barely clung to life. Then finally the forest gave way altogether to a great prairie of soot and ash.
He took stopped at the edge of the black abyss. Part of him mourned in silence for the nature that had been lost.
Malefor did more than harm races;the very earth suffered under him.The cheetah thought within the confines of his mind. But there was no time to curse the hated purple dragon for what destruction he had wrought upon the world. He resumed his pace once more.
The very ground under his feet seemed to beg for life, as his footwork kicked up little black clouds of soot behind him. The land made his fur stand on edge, as if the place willed him to not be here, so it could agonize over its loss in peace.
After another half hour of running he came upon a chasm. It stretched on forever in each direction. His curiosity made him lean over the edge, only to see an endless pit.
For any other animal other than a dragon this would have been a significant obstacle. However the cheetahs of Avalar had met these same problems in the high passes surrounding their quaint valley. They had designed a special arrow to work like a grappling hook that could be shot from a bow. He unslung his bow and fitted the projectile into the string of his bow. He looked for a suitable place that would hold the hook and saw two rocks that formed a crook between the two.
He pulled his bow and with expert accuracy and precision that only a masterful archer could have, he fired. The arrow landed a few feet on the other side of the rocks. He pulled it tight and yanked hard upon the rope, which to his satisfaction did not budge. He tied it off to another well lodged rock behind him. He then proceeded to move end-over-end across the gap.
As soon as he was across he broke once more into a full run, leaving the rope and hook there in case he needed to make a quick getaway. After another length of time the cheetah came to a stop having reached the bottom of an incredibly jagged rise. So many points and valleys made it seem as if the earth itself had teeth, like that of a dragon's. An eerie glow near the points made it seem as if the fires burned upon their tips.
Hunter began his climb up the ridge. Hand over hand, up the dragon's teeth. The wary cheetah tested each foot and hand hold to make sure the rock would not give way. His caution was vindicated when the next hand hold crumpled beneath his paws. He sidled over a distance and began to climb up a different section.
The feline reached the next plateau and was greeted immediately by a fissure in the ridge. A dim glow and the smoggy, black clouds could be seen through the other side. An orange-red glow made it seem the clouds were on fire.
A crack of lighting lit up the fissure revealing a shadow casting down upon the floor. Hunter, as quick as the lighting itself, pulled his bow free and notched an arrow, aiming at the source of the shadow, ready to kill.
A sigh of relief escaped his lungs as only a thin scraggly sapling hung from the side of the fissure. Hunter's mouth fell only just a little at the sight of the mere plant.
How could that have survived… in here of all the blasted places?
Hunter walked into the pass and jumped from wall to wall until he reached the tree. A single branch had the only blackened leaves. Hunter rubbed one of the leaves with his furred paws revealing the green under the soot and ash.
Hunter looked to the sky, something… something told him that this was a sign. He pulled his knife free of its sheath at his side and cut one of the dead, straight branches. He placed the branch into his quiver, for later.
The feline climbed nimbly back down to the floor of the fissure, and made his way to the other side. The fissure began to open up and soon the cheetah was standing upon a high plateau overlooking a vast blackened plain with fires burning in many spots. In the distance a large fiery mountain stood tall and ominous, as if it was watching over all the fires below it. A river of thick magma slid down one side of the volcano.
Hunter turned to look for a place where he could quietly watch unnoticed. He found a small rock overhang that would provide good cover from the air. He scrutinized the moving flames for a moment before realizing that they were in fact lit torches being carried, by grublins. Hundreds upon hundreds of grublins, Hunter quickly began estimating their numbers, singling out platoons and then building the amounts into companies and finally battalions. The number quickly reached well over a thousand, then two, and finally somewhere around three thousand grublins, not to mention a few hundred of the larger and more deadly orcs.
Hunter sat there for some time watching the movements of the army beneath him. Most of the grublins were dedicated to what seemed like fortifications building. Only a few patrols seemed to be on the lookout. He took careful mental notes of their routes and numbers before he leaned back against the rock behind him, and slept.
A few hours later the cheetah woke, a quick check of his surroundings showing that he still remained undiscovered. He looked back over the camp beneath him to find that much was the same as before.
The feline pulled out the branch he had collected earlier and his knife, having decided he had some free time. The skilled archer cat began to carefully hone one end of the shaft. Once it was to his satisfaction he stripped the bark along the entire length and added three slim notches at the rear. The cheetah then reached into his bag and pulled out a small vile, three feathers and an arrow head. Then, opening the vile, he dipped a small claw into the clear liquid that was contained. He spread it along the notches and the end of the shaft. He fitted the head and feathers carefully into their positions. Then he held the arrow up to the sky to examine his work. A small feeling of satisfaction and a slight smile appeared on his visage. A smile which quickly turned to a frown as he noticed the three dragons flying west out of the basin.
*.*.*
Cynder cantered towards the Guardians' tent, carrying a scroll locked within her jaws with orders for a summons. She entered the confines of the Guardians tent through the front flaps.
"Hi Cynder," Both Flare and Flame said in greeting.
Cynder attempted to smile, however the note in her mouth made it awkward.
"Nice face." Flame snorted, before laughing uncontrollably.
Cynder glared at him after dropping the note. Before she could spit out a counter, Cyril stepped into the tent.
"Good, you are all here." He paused only for a moment. "Pardon my rushed tongue, but the Guardians are currently very busy setting up the interworkings of the alliance while simultaneously running this army. There is a village between us and the burned lands. If the heavy fighting we are expecting occurs they will most certainly be caught in the crossfire. You are to evacuate them as soon as possible."
He motioned with his paw to the old oak table in the center of the tent. "Their location is marked on the map on the table, and a scroll with the Guardian's paw prints and orders for them to relocate to Warfang momentarily is there as well.
"Any questions?" He paused for a brief moment, but none of the three made any movement to speak. "Both armies should be ready to move out by the time you get back."
He turned and as he exited, looking over his shoulder, "Good luck you three, and may the noble blood of our ancestors keep you safe." Then the Ice Guardian began to depart.
"Lighting fast briefing, I like it." Flame chirped.
The Ice Guardian stopped, and turned back towards the group. Flame took a step back, fearing he had angered the Ice Guardian.
"Oh I almost forgot; two of the colonial army will be going with you, an ice and an electric dragoness. They'll be waiting at the eastern edge of the camp." Then the old Guardian left.
Cynder and Flare both looked at each other, disturbed by the Guardian's last words. Flame only sighed with relief.
Cynder then stamped her paw. "You heard him. Meet me at the east edge of camp in thirty minutes."
Flame and Flare silently nodded together. Cynder snatched the documents on the table and left.
*.*.*
Thirty minutes later the three dragons sat in a triangle on a grassy lawn just outside the field of tents, each carrying a satchel with provisions and other various articles.
Flame was impatiently rapping his claws on a rock. "So where are these two… foreigners?"
"Like we would know, Flame," Flare answered, placing her tail underneath Flame's claws to prevent his noise making.
The red fire drake gave her an annoyed look before brushing her blade aside and beginning his rapping once more.
Cynder then lifted her head off the ground, peering into the crowd of dragons inside the camp. "That might be them."
Flame and Flare both turned to look towards the camp. Two dragonesses were making their way over to them, one with bright golden scales, a light blue underbelly and another dark blue ice dragoness with ivory white horns.
All three of the Warfangians rose to meet their counterparts. The other two stopped a few paws' distance before them. The ice dragoness leaned and whispered to the other briefly.
"Well are you going to tell us your names or stand there?" Cynder began.
"Oh. Um…" The golden one began, before being cut off by the ice dragoness.
"Her name is Electria and mine is Glacia. I guess you're Cynder, correct?"
"Yes, and this is Flame and Flare," Cynder responded in turn and gesturing with each wing to her companions. "Now that introductions are out of the way, let's be off."
"Wait! You're the one who was w-with Rey?" Electria quivered.
"You knew him?" Flare asked, taken aback by the sudden question.
"We- we…" Tears began to travel down the golden dragoness's muzzle.
"Were close friends." Glacia finished for her.
"I'm sorry. I owe him my life." She frowned, remembering the last moments of the fire dragon. "He was a good dragon," she said, trying to fake a smile.
"I'm sorry, but we need to be off now," Cynder interjected.
Cynder turned her back on the rest of her companions, the rest unfurling their wings for flight. She began her run up and let her wings catch the air, and with a few mighty flaps of her powerful wings she began to get altitude. The rushing wind filled her nostrils with the sweet scent of a meadow. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in the cool air and wind at her face.
Most of the group was quiet during the flight. However, Flare managed to start a conversation with Electria and Glacia. Cynder managed to only catch pieces of the conversation. They were talking about their lost friend. Cynder said a silent prayer for the dragon to find peace with the ancestors and thought no more of it. Cynder took in the few hours of peace from the outside world to think, only occasionally glancing at the sun to make sure they were heading in the right direction.
Then, a wing tap woke her from her meditation. Flame had bumped wings with her and motioned with his paw to the horizon ahead, where a large column of black smoke arose.
Cynder's daydreaming mind was shattered into alarm mode. The experienced black dragoness dove towards the trees beneath them, skimming the tree tops. The rest of the group followed suit. She continued this until the tree tops just barely obscured the tops of the village houses and huts. She dropped through a hole in the tree canopy. The other four dragons did so as well.
"Follow me and stay low. Don't make any unnecessary sounds." Each of the other dragons nodded. Cynder lowered herself to the ground and began to stalk towards the edge of the trees.
A twig snapped behind them after only a few steps. Cynder glared daggers over her shoulder at the sound.
All four of the other dragons stood perfectly still in line. Flame mouthed a silent, "Sorry."
Cynder glared at the fire drake for a second longer before returning to the path she had chosen before her. She began again to stalk forward through the underbrush towards the village.
Another twig snapped behind her. She glared daggers at Flame once more, who in response silently shook his head. Cynder looked at the remaining dragons, each of them shaking their heads as well.
The bush to her left flank rustled. Cynder turned towards it,bringing her lethal tail to bear to silence whatever creature it was before it could call for backup.
A brown cloak appeared through the bush first.
Cynder tensed to pounce.
A furry feline appeared out of the bush, with a bow and quiver. "Cynder?" it whispered.
"Hunter?" Cynder whispered in turn.
"Yes. It is fortunate you are here right now Cynder. You need to see this." He spoke gravely but quietly. "Follow me," he finished, drawing the cloak around him and beginning to sneak through the brush.
Without further mishap the group of five reached the edge of the woods. The group of dragons and the one cheetah spread out, each finding a bush to peer through.
In the fields surrounding the village, several dozen dragons young and old stood in lines closely guarded by small brown creatures, each pointing a pike or sword at the prisoners. Behind them several of the village buildings were ablaze with fire.
"We've got to help them," Flame whispered, preparing to charge.
"Wait," Hunter whispered harshly, putting a furry paw in front of the fire dragon. Flame looked to Cynder who nodded for him to back down. The fire drake reluctantly returned to hiding.
Out of the village three figures strode out of the smoke. Cynder's eyes immediately fell upon the purple dragon who was first to appear. A snarl stretched across Cynder's muzzle.
A whisper of joy came from Cynder's right. "That's Rey! He's alive!"
Both Glacia and Electria had bright joyous beaming smiles upon their faces.
"He seems… different." Flare's discouraging voice broke the pair out of their revelry.
"What do you mean?" they both asked.
"He's fallen," Cynder answered. "Corrupted." Cynder's voice grew angry. "The Rey you know is gone, replaced bya being who knows nothing but darkness and the will of his master."
The electric and ice dragoness looked back towards the three dragons walking towards the prisoners. A grimace replaced their smiles.
The rest of the group continued to watch. Spyro's group had reached the captive dragons, and he stood before them, speaking, although they could not hear what he was saying. Quake and Rey sat at his flanks obediently and watchfully.
After a few more moments the purple dragon ceased his speech, and a tirade of protest rang out from the group of captive dragons, all of them shouting and shaking their heads in defiance.
Spyro roared for silence which the hidden group could even hear. The purple dragon began again, and this time a few of the grublins picked a white dragoness out from the crowd and brought her before Spyro. The dragons once more began to shout in defiance.
Spyro placed his tail blade against the white dragon's neck, and all fell silent.
"Hunter!" Cynder whispered urgently.
"Already on it," he responded, throwing his cloak aside.
"Hurry or she is going to die," Cynder whispered in desperation.
Glacia whispered forlornly, "That's a four hundred yard shot. No one can hit that. You're endangering all those prisoners' lives."
Hunter pulled an arrow from his quiver, ignoring the remark. He looked over it for a moment before muttering to himself, "I just made this one too.
A whelping brown dragon burst from the crowd of surrendered dragons and ran towards the doomed white dragoness. The grublins did not bar the little dragon from reaching Spyro.
The brave little one began to push on the base of Spyro's tail, trying to remove the deadly blade from the white dragoness's throat but only to be slapped away by Spyro's tail, tumbling into a heap a yard away.
The dragons once more burst into a cacophony of angry voices, but were again silenced by Spyro's threat of death.
Hunter stood and readied his bow, drawing it back to its full length.
"Get the prisoners away you two," Cynder said, pointing at Glacia and Electria. "Flare, Flame, we'll distract Quake, Rey and Spyro."
Spyro's tail blade rose threateningly high above the white dragoness.
"Fire," Cynder whispered resolutely.
With a twang, Hunter released his arrow.
Thanks to Shemmi and Riverstyxx for letting me borrow two characters. Levina (white dragoness) and Domino (brown whelping), who will be more extensively featured in the next chapter.
Thanks to Dragonmaster000 for his continued beta skills and support.
Thanks to all the people who continue to read, and a special thank you to all the reviewers out there.
