Chapter 10: You Don't Need A Plane To Fly

The Artisans

Elora laid in the grass with her chin resting in her hands. From a distance she was watching the three dragons on the roof of the castle.

There, Rosita was unwrapping her tail from around her waist. "Alright, see here, Spyro," she said, removing her apron and folding it. "The direction of the breeze. Tell me where it's going."

"Uh, north!" he answered excitedly. She smiled with a spry shake of her head. "I mean west?"

"Focus," Nestor said patiently, stretching his wings out wide. "What direction are we—"

"Ooh, south!"

"South," Rosita confirmed. "The most important part about flying is knowing where you're going. The second most important part is knowing where the wind is going. If you're not aware of one or the other, then say goodbye to getting where you need to go in time."

"And say hello to flying around lost until you eventually crash from exhaustion," Nestor added.

"Okay, okay," Spyro said, pronking on the spot. "Do I gotta use a compass or something?"

"Not while I'm teaching you. You want to be confident in knowing where you're going, right?" Rosita pointed over their horns. "The skies have been painted with creative intelligence and throughout history, creatures on wing have used them for guidance."

"You mean like how the sun rises in the east and sets in the west? And so does the moon, the biggest one."

"Exactly. Because of how bright it is, Flamerius will always be the easiest moon to spot. What does this mean for north and south, then?"

"I'll just figure them out based on which way I'm facing and where the sun or moon are in the sky!"

"Good! Those are just the basics we need. Now! About your Wing Braces," Rosita said. "They're enchanted and are more than just training wheels. They're made to where you can get better at flying, but they will pick up very little slack. Push the familiarity of the Flights and Speedruns out of your mind, Spyro. Flying with the braces is going to be a huge step up them."

"OKAY!" Thanks to the breeze, and because he was so loud, Spyro could be heard a full mile south. Rosita pulled her lips in, trying not to smile as she set her apron aside.

"Make sure you're listening and remember," she said candidly. "The Wing Braces are powered from two things: your inner fire…"

Rosita paused to make sure he'd heard that. It looked like he hadn't.

"…your inner fire, as well as your confidence. But mostly your inner fire," she said. "If you're too fatigued, you won't be able to lift more than a few inches off the ground. Well, at least until you're strong enough to take off on your own. As for confidence, I don't even need to touch that, right?"

"Right!"

"So, less talk and more flight?"

"Yeah!" Spyro yelled, jumping up to his hind legs.

"I'll see you both in a minute, then," Nestor said. He took a few brisk steps and leapt into the air, ascending powerfully. Rosita herded Spyro back along the roof.

"Nesty—my nickname for him, don't let him know you know," she whispered, causing Spyro to snicker, "He's going to do one full lap around this area. You think we can catch him before he does?"

"Uh huh, uh huh," Spyro said, wagging his tail. "Let's do it! Wow, I can barely see him already!"

Rosita's lanky physique allowed her to balance down on all fours comfortably. "Go get him! I'll be right behind you."

Spyro charged off. He reached the edge of the roof and leapt into the blue with his head up and wings spread.

Even after what she'd told him, the immediate lack of support he'd been used to in the enchanted speedways startled and scared him…only a bit, though. Spyro quickly got the rhythm in his wings back, beating them with enthusiasm. He was now more conscious of the pull of gravity and had to put in a real effort to keep his weight in the air. He could feel the braces going to work; they burned an electric-like tingle into his wings, all the way down to the joint muscles. It felt great.

This is awesome! Spyro thought. It's working! I'm flying more on my own!

A shadow crept up along his back. Rosita was gliding a little over and behind him, squinting as she studied his wings.

"How are they?" she asked. "Are they working? Can you feel them?"

"Yeah, totally! They're perfect!"

Spyro went into a glide, swaying side-to-side, feeling boundless in energy with the wind at his back. He had already forgotten that they were supposed to be catching up with Nestor.

Rosita descended to be even with him. "There's a flying technique I'd like to teach you. My mother taught it to me a long time ago. So when I tell you…it'd make the both of us the only dragons in the world that know how to do it. Special, right?"

"Oh!" Spyro exclaimed.

"Only if you want to hear it, though."

"Yeah…do you want me to keep it a secret or something?"

Rosita's light smile stayed on her muzzle. "You can do whatever you want with what you learn."

"No way! If it's that special, then I won't tell anyone else," Spyro exclaimed. "I hope I can pull it off."

"Well, then, it's very simple, and very subtle. You can get away with it and no one ever notice. The first thing you do is take the deepest breath you can."

Spyro did that and forgot to keep flapping his wings for a moment. He scrabbled in the air for a moment, getting altitude back. "Mhm?"

"Now, billow that inner fire of yours as much as you can and hold it," Rosita instructed, scanning the terrain below. "Don't release it no matter how much you want to. Go into a glide."

Spyro struggled with the new autonomous sensations. He had no issue holding his breath, but stabilizing himself in a glide and keeping his fire down was harder than he thought. He was so focused that he didn't realize what was happening at first. What tipped him off was how Rosita's smile brightened immensely.

As he was gliding, and without a single flap of his wings, he was gaining lift. Surprised, Spyro spat out a burst of fire and lost altitude.

"Excellent! That was it!" Rosita cried. "That's how you do it!"

"What was that?"

"Thermal Ascension. The hotter an object is, the more buoyancy it has in the air or water. When you billowed all of that heat in your body, it made you hotter than your surroundings."

The sun came out from behind a large cloud. Spyro turned his head away from the brightness, watching Rosita's wings and mimicking her flight form as they banked.

She hasn't flapped her wings once, he realized in shock.

"…oh, yo!" Spyro said out loud. "So you mean I turned into a hot air balloon?"

"Ha ha! You get it. Simple and subtle, right? It's a technique that can save you precious energy once you master it," Rosita said, squinting ahead. "…there he is, I think...it all depends on how long you can hold your breath and stoke your flame, Spyro."

"Can I tell you something? It's not really a secret, so you can tell someone else."

"What's that, then?"

"I can hold my breath for however long I want!" Spyro announced, startling her. "Sparx and I were psyched when we found out!"

"For as long as you want?"

"Yeah! I've done it in water a ton of times, but never in the air like this. This technique you taught me is gonna work great!"

"That is interesting. I've never…quite heard of something like that," she said, glancing at him strangely. She pointed a sharp claw ahead. "Can you see him? It's kinda hard with all of this green."

"Oh, he's going way too slow. Let's get 'im!"

Spyro beat his wings harder. A wayward gust hit him head on and put him back in his place.

"Ohp! Classic beginner mistake," Rosita said, grinning. "Never beat your wings harder to speed up. You'll just waste energy. You've got to gradually adjust your form and focus, Spyro. Your speed will naturally improve over time."

She descended and stayed underneath him like a winged canopy. When they caught up to Nestor, he pulled back. Spyro suddenly found himself at the front of the formation.

The skies rolled out before him in an endless expanse. Spyro stared, getting lost in the horizon. His wing beats slowed and he began to drag. In his mind he could no longer recall where he was or what direction he was traveling in.

"You can do it. Just focus."

Nestor's voice burst his trance. The young dragon shook his head, trying to get his wits back. "Right," Spyro muttered.

What was that? How'd I get disoriented that easily?

Come on. I've flown tons of times before. Not like this. But I know what I'm doing. I've gotta remember that technique too.

And not get…

"Think we can make it to the Magic Crafters and back?" Rosita said suddenly, almost causing Spyro to jolt out of his scales.

"A round trip? Well, maybe," Nestor said. "Spyro, what do you say?"

In his brief moment of doubt, Spyro had felt the Wing Braces cool and stiffen. He took a moment to answer, grinding his teeth together and billowing his fire back up. The burning tingle in his wings rekindled.

"Yeah," he said, low and serious. "Let's do it."

"Lead the way, then."

Spyro closed an eye in focus. He craned his head around and studied the skies, the sun, and the terrain. Then, with the slightest awkwardness in his flapping, he turned the formation around. The three dragons soared northbound towards the rolling plains and tall prominences of Stone Hill. Spyro could now look down on where he'd spent the majority of his life. The difference in perspective created a dizzying mix of nostalgia and exhilaration.

When they were about to pass his and Sparx's spire, Spyro was about to point it out to Rosita when he noticed a small dark speck on top of the structure, watching them.

"D'uh—" Spyro floundered and his Wing Braces stalled again. Rosita glanced up.

"Still good?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, it's nothing...I just got distracted again."