Chapter 11: Warm Blood
"Ow, ow, ow…."
Spyro was still aching, but he had done it. Kind of.
On the trip back he'd experienced muscle failure just miles from reaching home! Rosita was there to catch and reassure him. Dragons falling out of the sky made for stronger fliers…if they survive, she'd said.
He had gone back to Stone Hill to pass out; he couldn't believe how tired he'd been. Now he was going to see what his friends were up to.
Nestor's Hill was in the distance and sitting on it was a slender figure, faintly glowing in the setting sun. Spyro changed direction and headed for it.
"Did you need something, Spyro?" it whispered, when he drew closer.
"No...I just saw you and wondered if you were alright."
"Mm. I have to tell you I am. It's a little too soon for me to talk about it."
"Aww, are you sure?"
"For now, yes. Thank you for coming to check on me."
Spyro followed Rosita's line of sight. She'd been watching the dragons in the hills and he got a funny feeling, reminded of how he'd been doing the same thing earlier that day.
"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.
"Sure, if you can handle the boredom."
"This isn't boring! Well, maybe a little, but not all the way."
"Oh, earlier was the worst. All of us, the clan leaders, had to have a meeting about the Festival tomorrow…it was to discuss the necessary things, but it was still a drag. Pains of being grown-up, you know."
Spyro would've gladly agreed if he hadn't fallen away into his thoughts.
The Festival tomorrow… he repeated to himself, stunned.
Tomorrow. The Dragonfly Festival was suddenly springing out at him, like he'd suddenly remembered it after so long.
Is that right? Yeah, it is tomorrow. Why's it…feel like…it shouldn't be? Does it really have to be tomorrow? Are we even that prepared for it?
It could've been due to the quick progression of recent events. Just yesterday they'd found out that they were at high risk of being invaded! Spyro began to burn up as he thought about the traitor, Colidon.
What can he do, really? I mean, look at all these dragons. There's no way he could get through all of them. I think he was just bluffing.
He wasn't just watching dragons. He was watching doting mothers and fathers with their children. His inner fire burned sourly and his throat closed up.
There's no way…no freaking way parents would let their children get hurt. I don't believe it. I don't believe him. He's a liar. A traitor and a liar…
He took a deep breath, lengthening his little claws to paw at the grass. "Ah…thank you again for the Wing Braces, Miss Rosita."
"You don't have to call me Miss, Spyro," she looked over with a smile that glowed in the sunset. "You don't call Nestor mister, do you?"
"Nah, no. I do call him pops sometimes, though."
As soon as that came out, Spyro thought that sounded a little awkward. He blathered, "But anyway, the lessons I learned today were really awesome. I'm gonna be practicing flying every day now."
"Do you know how long it takes to get from here to where we dragonesses live? Four days. Nonstop flying."
"Whaaat?!"
"But our group trip took about six and a half days. Plenty of breaks. I couldn't do that to them," Rosita laughed. "I won't lie, I thought about doing a continuous flight a clawful of times. The elders never would've let me hear the end of it, though!"
"So you can do it by yourself?!" Spyro exclaimed, hopping to his feet.
"Sure can. I've done it plenty of times."
"Ooh! How old were you when you first made the trip?"
"My early twenties? Or maybe my late teens, I can't recall. The previous dragoness clan leader was unrepentant when it came to teaching me flight skills. Oh, goodness. She wanted me to fly that path until I knew it by heart."
"Without a break."
She nodded with a gentle smile, much to his disbelief. "Once it's learned, it seems less impossible. Some birds can fly for just as long or even longer without resting. That's always been a humbling fact to me."
Seeing the moon in the sky reminded Spyro of something and he exclaimed, "Nestor told me that moon was named after a dragon who flew there and back."
"Mhm…" Rosita said, looking up at it as well. "I wonder how long that took him. Pretty hardcore, right?"
"Yeah."
Spyro settled back into the grass again, dropping his wings. The dragons in the surrounding areas started to call it a night, picking up their rambunctious children for bed. When the last of them had taken off into the darkening sky, he spoke up again.
"I have a weird question."
"My favorite. Go ahead?"
"Are there any girl dragons, like…my age, over there with you all?"
"Yes," Rosita answered, surprising him. "She would've come along with us, but she left our clan before we migrated down here."
"What happened to her, where'd she go?"
Her eyes narrowed and she flared her nostrils. "I didn't want her to leave," she began stiffly. "But to the northern part of the continent is an academy for dragons. Out of nowhere its Headmaster came to visit us, and asked our little dragon if she wanted to attend his school…she accepted."
She sighed, holding her hands up in defeat. "I can understand. She was getting tired of not having other dragons her age to be around, but…I don't know. Something felt off about the Headmaster."
"…wait, that guy came down here! That's the big creepy dude with the glowing eyes, right?!"
Rosita looked at him intensely. "You're kidding. He came here, too? Did he ever speak to you?"
"No, never…I only found out about him 'cause my friends and I spied on him, Nestor, and Alban. You think he was down here to try to take me away, too?"
"If he never interacted with you, something tells me he may've had a different reason to visit. Nestor never even told me about this…meeting."
"Maybe he forgot? He's been pretty busy."
"...maybe," Rosita agreed solemnly. "And who is Alban, remind me?"
"He's purple like me, but not as purple. And he lives in Dark Hollow…he has a lot of books and is always writing. He doesn't like it when I throw paper airplanes at his head, though," he added brightly, making her snort yellow embers. "…it's just—going back to why I asked about there being other dragons my age, it's just weird. It didn't used to bother me that much. Now I've been thinking about it more."
"Well, it's bothered us, too. Nestor and I, but mainly him since he's the one who found your egg abandoned here," Rosita said. "Dragons don't abandon kin. It's unheard of."
"My egg could've been stolen," Spyro mumbled. "Thieves dropped it, or…"
"Can I ask you something, Spyro? Has it made you sad seeing those other dragons, with their children?"
"Eh…yeah. A lot. And confused."
"You're not alone. That's how I feel, too."
That did make him feel better in a weird sense. Spyro was suddenly clued into something, but felt like it wasn't the right time to bring that topic up. Instead he asked a question that surprised himself, "Do you really have to leave after the festival?"
"We don't have to immediately, but Nestor and I were being serious with what we told you earlier," she said. "It's distinctive, how a dragon's love can accidentally cause nature itself to misfire and fray out of control. If we stayed, it would be at the risk of flipping entire mountains, causing bodies of water to eject from the land…or, making clouds rain fire instead of water...those sorts of things and who knows what else."
"It gets that crazy? Wow…I wish that didn't happen. I like seeing all of the dragons together."
"It does ache," Rosita admitted. "It gets better over time...besides, what I'm sure you haven't noticed is that dragonesses do come over here to visit their mates. Just not in groups, as individuals...these visits happen at hours where you wouldn't be awake, though."
"What, like at midnight?"
"Well, I couldn't tell you. And don't go snooping around at night and getting yourself into trouble. It doesn't get too boring around here, does it?"
"No, never. I just wish…" Spyro sighed. "I don't know. Like, I'm happy here and all, and I have great friends, I guess it's that…I still feel different. Lonely. From the…babies. Didn't realize that earlier today."
"You've never seen times like these before. You're missing your parents."
"Uh huh. I wonder why they didn't want me," Spyro said, hanging his head. "...uh, if my egg wasn't stolen."
Rosita lowered her long profile. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could do something about this. Give you answers, anything."
"You gave me a present. That means a whole lot. Even though I'm not...uh, even if you never saw me before."
"Good. I'm really glad to hear that. And…" Rosita paused for several long moments. "…when we leave, Spyro, can you promise me something?"
"I'll do it."
"Be the best flier you can be. I want you to be better than I am."
"Better than you?!"
"Of course."
"Won't that take some time, though?"
"It sure will."
He held his breath, billowing his inner flame, and trying to draw up self-confidence. "I'll do my best. And that's, wow. A lot to live up to, but I promise."
She held up her hands, spreading her slender claws out with a kind smile. They sat in each other's company until the moon was high in the sky. Spyro had forgotten what he'd been doing before.
"Spyro…is it alright if I hug you?"
He didn't realize how much he wanted that until she asked. Spyro sidled into her forearms, watching his horns as he leaned his head over her shoulder. Her hug was soft and warm, better than any fireplace. He would never forget that moment for the rest of his dragon days.
