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Unfortunately I have had issues with trying to upload the original 22 pages of text to this site. It appears that the chapter is too long for me to post it in full. Therefore I shall be dividing it up into two parts and posting them up separately. Its unfortunate but I know no other way to do it. The upload file for each part will be the same chapter which you can download if you wish to have it in full rather than read in two parts. My posting on deviantart will remain unchanged as I can post the full chapter without splitting it.
Going forward I will end up doing this for future chapters of similar length.
Chapter 8: Avalarian Nights
"Avalarian nights, like Avalarian days,
Such a wondrous sight,
By foot or by flight,
You'll soon be amazed.
Avalarian nights, like Avalarian days,
Where Cheetah's call home,
Standing guard as they roam,
Never to be displaced ."
The sun hung low over the horizon and was increasingly hidden behind Warfang’s towers and outer walls. Its rays baked the already orange brown skyline in another layer of dark orange as the day drew near its end. This was no more apparent than to the four survivors as they flew just above the towers of the northern quarter of the city in the direction of the Observatory. With sundown being so close, Spyro had suggested that they pay a visit to Mason to see the invention he had spoken of before heading to their rendezvous with Ignitus. The day in Warfang, with a few exceptions, had been an enjoyable outing for the four of them, though only Spyro and Cynder had anything left of the allowance given to them by the Guardians. Flying close together alongside each other, Flame’s ridiculous poncho flailed behind him like a cape and Emer’s new necklace catching the sun as they swung around and between the buildings, the enormous mountain of Castle Hill to the right of them as the four continued laughing and chatting cheerfully as they flew on.
“What do you think he wants to shows us?” Cynder asked loudly as the wind rushed past them, the Observatory now straight ahead.
“Something that will probably blow up in our faces!” Flame answered pensively. Spyro only laughed as they soared alongside the great viaduct they had performed aerobatics on earlier in the day. Had they had more time they may have done so again, but the four friends kept a tight formation as the enormous dome and protruding telescope of the Observatory grew and grew the closer they came. The Celestial Moons began to glow their signature red and green as barely an hour of daylight remained, but in spite of the carefree attitude adopted by the group, Spyro did not want to be late for Ignitus as he looked towards the violet haze covering the sea. As he turned his head back in front, he eyed the telescope that was pointed towards the sky above the mountain range to the north and a flash of inspiration hit him like a lightning rod. To the surprise of his companions, he pulled up sharply away from them, aiming towards the top of the telescope as the others, after a delay, climbed after him. Spyro looked behind him to see that they had indeed followed him, his reasons soon becoming clear as he barely skimmed his claws over the surface of the dome of the observatory. Rather than simply enter through the main entrance, it occurred to the young purple dragon that it was much faster and more fun to enter through the dome, especially as he assumed that Mason would be working with or near the telescope. He flew straight up, his friends following behind as he came to a halt in the air and looked down towards the open viewing port that the enormous telescope would pan up and down in as it observed the heavens. He smiled at the others as they quickly flew up beside him.
“Why do you always have to lead?” asked Cynder indignantly.
“You can take the long way if you like,” he replied in jest.
“What are we doing up here?” queried Ember curiously.
“Going to see Mason!” Flame replied plainly, his straight-faced response flying in the face of why they were flying above the observatory instead of into it. Or perhaps the red dragon just absolutely trusted Spyro regardless of his antics. Regardless, he seemed confused by the scowl he received from Ember as Spyro suddenly propelled himself down into a glide towards the telescope. He aimed at the bottom of the viewing port below the massive telescope, Cynder, Ember and Flame following behind in single file. He swooped into the massive dome of the observatory, banking right as he entered inside and glided towards the floor. The enormous telescope took up most of the center of the dome, the bronze instrument in appearance little different than the smaller handheld devices used by everyday observers and lookouts apart from its giant size. Sat in a platform that turned the entire dome, the instrument had large gears that allowed the machine to turn and adjust its elevation. The behemoth eyeglass progressively narrowed until the eyepiece was little bigger than an average telescope. Spyro’s feet easily touched the floor as he landed just beside the small eyepiece, his friends landing beside him as he gazed about the room.
“Professor?” he called as he moved his head around the interior for the eccentric mole. Silence answered him as the young dragons began to wander about the room, staring at the numerous bookcases and tables that lined the walls of the observation deck. The tables varied in their height, some tall and some short to accommodate dragons and moles. There was a large door just behind telescope with the usual mole sized door built into it for those who worked at the observatory. The furnishings were all built to sit perfectly against the curved walls of the room, the tables and bookcases all purposely curved to make it so. They sat in a linear order; an enormous multi-shelved bookcase followed by one or two curved tables before meeting another large bookcase, the pattern repeating all around the room. Each table was covered in various diagrams, strange devices and vials of colorful, mysterious liquids, some of which bubbled and gave off strange smells. Flame placed his paws up on one of the tables and smelt the fumes of one such vile, cringing before he hastily pulled away.
“We’d better not touch anything,” Spyro said warningly as he gazed in fascination at the giant telescope.
“You think maybe we missed him?” asked Cynder as she peeked onto a table at the tools and mysterious devices strewn across it.
“Maybe he’s already gone to see his old army friends,” suggested Ember. A loud explosion behind the door suddenly rocked the building, shaking the vials and chemicals on the tables and making the four young dragons jump.
“We’re under attack!” screamed Flame as he hastily ducked under a table, the roar of the explosion suddenly followed by the sound of a familiar voice coughing, cursing and ranting behind the door,
“Oh blasted blinking blue blazes!”
“No, it’s just Mason,” Spyro said calmly, Flame sheepishly crawling out from beneath his cover as Ember chuckled at him. The four of them all looked towards the door as they heard Mason’s continued ranting become louder as he walked up the hall towards the door.
“…I should have known black power would be too powerful! I really need to come up with some sort of vent system to get rid of the fumes when that happens…”
The small door creaked open and through it stepped the Professor, his already singed coat made blacker still with smoking vapors rising from the hairs of his mustache and his friar haircut. He was brushing off his sleeves as he stepped through the door, pausing as he beheld the four young dragons standing in front of him, lifting up his spectacles which were smudged with ash.
“Ah! There you are!” he said cheerfully as he pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped off his glasses, “I was afraid you had forgotten about me!”
“Not at all, Professor,” Spyro greeted warmly as they walked up to him, “I guess we just lost track of time, though.”
“Well, no harm done,” the mole said resignedly, “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident. Still, we live and learn.”
“Are you hurt?” asked Ember worriedly.
“Nothing I’m not used to, Miss Ember. Well, I say! What a lovely necklace you have there!” he said brightly as he leaned in to have a closer look at it, lifting his glasses. Ember beamed as Flame inched over beside her,
“Yeah, I bought it for her,” he said casually.
“Really?” asked Mason as he turned to him, pausing abruptly as he beheld the poncho that he was wearing, diverting his trail of thought, “How interesting…”
Cynder promptly cleared her throat as she stepped forwards,
“Hey, yeah its great and all but, wasn’t there something you wanted to show us? I mean, we don’t want to be late for Ignitus…”
“Yes, yes of course!” Mason said readily, pulling his spectacles back down and turning towards the door, “Come along! Its right this way!” he waved for them to follow.
The four exchanged wondering glances with each other as they followed behind Mason as he pushed the door open and waddled through. They entered into a tall stone hallway with a closed door straight across from them, black smoke seeping underneath it and evidently the sight of whatever Mason’s latest wayward experiment had been. The mole professor paid it no heed as they followed him to the right, down a flight of stairs that that spiraled down to the next level. It was surprisingly dark even with the torches reflecting against the white stone walls. The stairs themselves were yet another unique aspect of Warfang; essentially two sets running parallel to each other with the inner most steps being much smaller for moles and the outside steps being much larger for dragons. Spyro and his friends playfully hopped down each of the large steps while Mason scurried down the miniature steps as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Eventually the staircase bought them to the next level and Mason led them into a large open room. Just to the left of the staircase were full sized rectangular windows that allowed the sunlight to stream into the room, it currently being bathed in the orange hues of the sunset. All across the room there was yet more bookcases and tables, some tall and some short, all scattered with papers, bubbling vials, various tools and machine parts. Suspended from the ceiling was a large skeleton of a dragon and the skeleton of a fearsome Dreadwing. Usually this room would be a buzz of activity as numerous mole and dragon scientists studied, experimented and of course argued with each other but all were absent due to the holidays. As soon as they had entered into the room, Spyro and his friends found their eyes fixed on something at the far end of the room that Mason pointed to as he led them toward it.
“Their she is!” he boasted proudly as the group approached. It was a wooden contraption mounted on heavy wooden scaffolds to keep it off the ground. Spyro felt his brain turn inside out as he struggled to comprehend the strange machine.
“What is it?” he asked confusedly.
“It’s my flying machine!” Mason chuckled gleefully, “Soon the skies will not just be the domain of those born with wings!”
The ‘Flying machine’ as he called it was certainly a sight to behold if perhaps not for the reasons he might have hoped. It had a double set of wings that stretched almost the full breadth of the room, almost a hundred feet in length. The top wing was supported by a series of poles and struts from the bottom wing while in the centre of them was a narrow log shaped wooden hull with apparently three mole sized seating compartments. The hull was almost as long as the wings with a smaller tail plane and rudder like fin at the rear. The young dragons wandered around beneath the odd machine as they took at its details. Mason quickly climbed up a ladder that was leaned against the left wing and climbed onto his invention.
“So it flies, does it?” asked Flame doubtfully.
“Yes!” Mason said brightly, “Well, I mean, theoretically it does. I haven’t quite finished it yet.”
“But how?” asked Ember curiously, “Does it flap its wings like a bird?”
Mason chortled, “No, no, Miss Ember. I did some equations and concluded that wasn’t the optimal approach,” he said as he clambered onto the machine and inspected the centre section.
“But why a flying machine?” queried Spyro.
“We already have airships, after all,” added Cynder thoughtfully. Mason peered down to the floor at them as he leaned against the wooden frame.
“That’s true, Miss Cynder, but they are large and slow moving and need an entire crew to operate them. My intention is to create something that a single mole could operate. Something that would allow us to soar through the skies alongside our dragon allies, for leisure and for battle if need be. Imagine hundreds of these machines swooping over the Apes and dropping ordinance right on top of their heads! I wish I’d had the idea during my army years!”
The four young dragons all looked at each other ambivalently at Mason’s words. The fact was despite his proven genius, the Professor had thought up as many if not more hair brained schemes that never came to pass. But he had always told them that their was no such thing as a failed experiment so long as you learned something from it, even if all you learn is how something doesn’t work. Spyro jumped into the air and hovered just beside the end of the left wing of the machine, his eyes narrowing as he peered at the struts and strings that connected through them. His companions all did the same as they hovered around and stared in wonder at the bizarre contraption.
“Let me show you how it works!” Mason grinned excitedly as he clambered into the front seat of the hull. He grasped a wooden stick that sat just in front of him and began moving it backwards and forwards and sideways. As he did the strings on the wings began to move about, causing small flaps as the back of the wings to rise and fall in response. The machine creaked painfully as he worked a set of pedals that made the tailfin turn left and right like the tail of a fish.
“In flight, this is how I will control the machine,” he explained in a raised voice as the creaking grew louder, “It’s all very simple, not much harder than rowing a boat.”
“But how does it fly? What makes it move?” Cynder shouted over the noise.
“What?” he shouted. Spyro flew closer to the machine and made a funnel with his front paws around his mouth,
“What makes it fly?!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Aha!” exclaimed the Professor as he raised an inspired finger, “That’s perhaps the best part!” The whining of the machine thankfully came to end as he left the controls and clambered out onto the wing, the young dragons breathing a sigh of relief as the mole climbed across the wing and began to clamber down the ladder. They each dropped easily back to their feet as Mason touched down after them.
“Just over here!” he said as he turned towards a low table pressed against the wall to the right of the machine. The expressions worn by the four young dragons showed little faith in his invention but also a reluctance to let their true thoughts be known, especially when he seemed so happy to show it to them. That fact bought on a question from Ember,
“So who else have you shown this to?”
“Aside from my colleagues? Nobody! You are the first members of the public to see this invention, my friends.”
“Well, we’re very honored,” Ember said in a well disguised fib.
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied cheerfully as they reached the table. Spyro raised his eyebrows again in perplextion as the group beheld two roughly hexagonal metal boxes that were similarly sized to beer kegs. The one on the left sat facing them while the one on the right sat on its short end with its other end facing the ceiling. There was a double bladed wooden fan attacked to it while a second fan presumably for the other box sat idly on the table. Beside them both were two yellow electrically infused crystals, their light shimmering against the metal boxes.
“What are these things?” Spyro asked. Mason stepped up onto the table and put a proud hand against the upturned metal box.
“A new propulsion system I’m working on. I call it an ‘Elemental combustion engine’,” he said as he leaned down and picked up one of the yellow crystals, “My theory is that I can use the power of element infused gems such as these to power these engines to propel my craft through the sky,” he illustrated by sweeping the gem over his head like it were his machine in flight.
“Uh, okay,” nodded Spyro doubtfully. The Professor obliviously began examining the yellow crystal and twisting it about in his hands thoughtfully as the others peered more closely at his peculiar designs. Looking to his left he saw a frown of thought or perhaps disappointment suddenly creased Cynder’s brow as she eyed the second crystal.
“So these engines are going to be powered by electricity?” she inquired.
“Well, for the moment, yes, but theoretically I could use any element. Electricity or Fire seem the best suited though,” Mason replied.
“What about Wind?” Cynder suggested sharply. Spyro felt a touch of concern arise as he looked to see Mason’s response. The professor scratched his head and then his chin as he processed the theory.
“Wind you say? I must admit I hadn’t given it any thought. There aren’t any Wind dragons who work here after all and there isn’t much call for Wind crystals.”
“Just a suggestion,” Cynder said dolefully. Spyro reacted almost immediately,
“Hey, uh, thanks very much Professor but I think we’d better get going now. Like you said, Cynder, we don’t want to keep Ignitus waiting.”
“Of course, of course,” Mason nodded readily, “I need to start to get ready myself for my reunion with my old regiment.”
“Thanks very much, Professor,” said Flame cheerily. “We appreciate you showing us this,” added Ember.
“Not at all, my friends,” Mason smiled, “You’d best be on your way, now. Don’t want you to get in trouble with Ignitus.”
“Oh I’m sure we’ll find a way,” Cynder replied with cynical humor as she turned to leave, “Have a good time, Professor.”
“And you, Miss Cynder,” he returned dutifully. Spyro was the last to turn as he beckoned the mole in good nature,
“Goodbye, Mason, we’ll see you later!”
The sun was half submerged behind the horizon as the four who lived flew out of the dome of the observatory, sights set on the far end of the city. They flew once more along the viaduct that ran the length of the city towards the western gate where they were expected. The great colossus that was Castle Hill stared down on them as the four young dragons flew towards it as they saw the lamps being lit on the viaduct. A pair of red fire dragons with a mole standing on their heads with a wooden pole and wick walked along the viaduct and lit each torch ceremonially. Spyro waved to them as they flew over before he and his friends pulled sharply to the left to circumvent the plateau on which Castle Hill stood. They swept past the tall shaded cliffside and the three spine like stone ridges that grew out the side of the mountain like the roots of a tree. As they swept around to the other side the viaduct came into view stretching onward towards the western gate. They banked to the right until they flew four abreast over the viaduct, passing over another pair of lamplighters as they pressed onward.
“I hope we’re not too late or we might get in trouble,” Flame called out nervously as they approached the guard towers of the blocky western gatehouse.
“It’s only just on sundown, we’ll be okay,” Spyro called back reassuringly as he glanced at the massive walls that surrounded the entire city, noting how they rose and fell with the landscape the closer they came to them. He looked ahead and saw a distinctive red silhouette standing just outside the open gateway as a few late trade caravans passed through behind the city’s walls. Spyro smiled as he saw Ignitus waiting for them, glancing quickly to his companions as they all stared at each other in relief that he didn’t look angry. They hopped over the caravans heading in and steadily glided down onto the viaduct just as they entered the arch of the gatehouse. The four young dragons quickly galloped through the passage of the gatehouse as the Fire Guardian stepped slowly forwards from the outside.
“Good evening, Ignitus,” they all said together.
“Good evening, young dragons,” he replied with a wry smile, “Arriving in the nick of time, I see.”
“We went to see Mason,” Flame quickly explained fearfully, “He had something he wanted to show us!” Ignitus only chuckled at his immediately fearful response.
“I’m sure he did. I can see you spent your time and money in the city well,” he said as he eyed Ember’s golden necklace and Flame’s ridiculous poncho, “I hope there wasn’t any trouble.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle, Ignitus,” Spyro explained confidently, his eyes shooting over to Cynder who smiled at him thoughtfully. The Fire Guardian eyed him fondly but suspiciously,
“I was thinking more of trouble that perhaps had followed the four of you, but as I see no angry locals in need of placating, I’m going to assume you have behaved yourselves,” he said as he turned his heavy bulk around towards the green lands outside the city.
“Of course,” Cynder assured him firmly. She and Spyro, Flame and Ember took places either side of Ignitus. The Guardian arched his head up to the sky as he and his young companions observed the first glimmers of the first stars beginning to appear. The top layer of the sky was a shade of deep violet as the last traces of orange slowly reseeded as the crest of the sun faded behind the horizon. Ignitus lowered his gaze and cast a look over the four young dragons standing either side of him.
“Well, then, are we ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Spyro nodded affirmatively.
“To Avalar, then?” asked Ember excitedly.
“To Avalar it is!” Ignitus grinned broadly, his massive wings shot outwards and with a great thrust of his legs, he leapt into the air with a tremendous whoosh of his wings. Spyro and the others staggered back from the gust of air created by the Fire Guardian as they watched him climb swiftly into the sky.
“Come on, lets go!” Spyro cried eagerly as he took off after him, Cynder, Flame and Ember following swiftly as they chased after Ignitus. The Fire Guardian looked over his shoulder to them as he continued to climb at a steep angle, the forests and pristine fields soon dominating the world below. He gradually leveled out just below the cloud cover, Spyro and the others catching up and following close alongside him. The purple dragon looked behind at his friends and at the city they had left. Warfang was now becoming a distant silhouette as tiny specks of light began popping up all across her walls, towers and streets as the night steadily came. The night air was chilled as Spyro breathed it in deeply, the only sound being the rhythmic beats of the mighty wings of Ignitus that drowned the sound of his own wings flapping like mad.
The Celestial Moons shone at their full brilliance as the sky became alight with clumps of millions of stars like millions of glistening eyes staring down at the world beneath them. They passed over the great fields of the outlying farmlands and a few cottages and outposts that dotted the landscape. Only a few clouds mingled as the landscape shone almost as brightly in the moonlight as during the day, the rolling hills and dense forests alive with fireflies and hooting owls. Clumps of Spirit gems growing free in the wild glistened all about the land as the moonlight shone through them, flashes of red, green, blue and pink all glimmering like stars in their own right. As Spyro looked upon all this below, he thought that in truth when the sun went down the world did not go to sleep, rather its other half came to life to claim the night as its own. He couldn’t help but murmur a laugh of happiness as he admired how truly beautiful it all was. But as an hour drifted by and soon another, he was unable to suppress the nagging thoughts and feelings that he had tried his best to keep down all afternoon. Thoughts and feelings all stemming from the unpleasant meeting with Glacious and her entourage. He may not have been the main target of her vitriol, but her final remarks had affected him more than he had let show, even with him drowning his screams in the fountain. How dare she make such a deeply personal remark? To mock the fact that he and his friends were orphans? Even for her it seemed simply too mean spirited to believe. But she had and it had brought back questions and emotions he thought he had left behind him and hadn’t considered in years.
Spyro and Cynder, Flame and Ember had no living relations. They were orphans. But Flame and Ember at least knew who their parents had been. Flame had come from a family of purebred firedragons that had all perished in the war against Malefor. His mother he was told was named Fiamma and his father named Azur. Both had been members of Ignitus’s own Battalion of dragons, the Inferno Battalion and had died in the defence of Warfang the night of the temple raid. Ember’s mother had been an Ice dragoness named Noelle and her father a Fire dragon named Fheenix, their mixed courtship having resulted in her confusing coloration and perhaps prematurely decided name. The near constant wars that had been fought against the Apes ever since Malefor’s betrayal had severely affected the dragon population and left many family lines greatly reduced or destroyed altogether, hence the four of them living at the temple. But Flame and Ember at least had those names to hold onto, something of their lost families.
But he and Cynder had nothing. They had no inkling about who their real parents were, about their real families. Of course, they had asked the Guardians but there was little to learn from them. Along with the many dragons who had died in the war against the apes, many records of names and logs of births in Warfang had been destroyed in the many sieges and attacks the city had endured. Ignitus had told them that Cynder’s egg had once been among those kept inside city before ending up with those sent to the temple along with those Flame, Ember and Spyro. A great raid by Dreadwings had caused heavy damage and losses to Warfang and in all the confusion and chaos who her parents had been had been lost. No one had come forward to claim her egg and even with Wind dragons being a relative minority in Warfang, it had been assumed her parents had been among those killed.
As for Spyro, there was just as little to be learned. As the purple dragon is a creature of magic, a miracle of fate, it did not matter the color or element of the parents if fate chose that their offspring would be such a legendary dragon. Perhaps it was because of this that his egg had been anonymously delivered to the Dragon Temple with no information as to who it had belonged to. Like with Cynder, no one had come forward to claim it before or after his egg had hatched, the most likely reason being his parents had been killed without letting anyone know they had been the ones to conceive the legendary purple dragon.
“Perhaps they believed it was the safest thing to do,” Ignitus had told him years ago when he had told them the story.
‘Or maybe they just didn’t want the burden,’ Spyro now thought coldly.
The terrain began to become more mountainous, a tell-tale sign that they were closing on their destination. From up high Spyro could see the wide dispersed mountain ranges that formed a natural wall to the valleys below. He stared more intently as the snowy peaks of the high formations began to give way to the smaller, grey faced and grassy topped plateaus that typified the Valleys of Avalar. He looked around himself and saw the increased excitement in the faces of his companions as they soon saw the twin moon’s reflection on the mountain streams that snaked their way over the landscape. Just ahead they saw the land clearing and giving way to a larger valley that was surrounded by tall cliffs and more dense green forests. Streaming through the valley like a belt of crystal was the Avalar river, fuelled from the mountain streams that poured over two waterfalls at either end of the valley. In just moments the five dragons were flying above the piece of paradise that was their destination; Avalar.
“A sight that never grows weary!” Ignitus declared cheerfully as he ceased the heavy beating of his wings and held them out flat, allowing his speed and the air to carry him silently above the glorious scene below. Spyro followed his example as did the others, in moments the night was filled only in the sound of the wind rushing past them and the nurturing sound of the river flowing through the valley. At its southern end stood one of the towering waterfalls that could be found throughout the valley as it poured into the river which uniquely looped around the center of the valley, essentially creating a small island in the middle that the ring of water surrounded. From there the stream broke off into a few different, separate streams that funneled water all around the mountains and surrounding valleys. Ignitus banked gently to the right, his compatriots doing the same as they swerved slowly towards the northern end of the valley. In the distance were the lights and smoke of a village just to the right of the river, which turned to the left and continued to run along the valley.
The village was where lived Hunter and the rest of the Prolwus Cheetah tribe that called the valley home. The village was built in the northeast corner of the valley, surrounded by wooden palisade walls that formed a loose inverted ‘L’ shape while a small wooden dock was built just out into the river beside the village. Inside the palisade were the wooden huts that the Cheetah’s lived, though several other buildings were also built throughout the valley outside its walls. Inside the village at the three corners of the ‘L’ were three tall wooden watch towers which resembled the crow’s nests seen on the Doxantha,bearing the crimson banner adorned with the image of a flaming Cheetah’s paw that was the Prowlus insignia. The dragons began to descend as they approached the village, seeing the figures of the Cheetah’s in and around it looking up at them as the lookouts in the towers evidently saw them. Spyro and the others followed Ignitus as he banked across the river and lined up on the entrance to the village as a small crowd began to gather and advance down the dirt path through the open gates.
The Fire Guardian landed gracefully as he landed just beside the dock with Spyro and the others landing just behind him. He looked behind to be sure they had landed safely before as a group they walked to greet the welcome party strolling out to meet them. The dozen or so laughing and waving felines all looked fairly similar in appearance and while they were all collectively referred to as “Cheetah’s” their fur colour and patterns was wide ranging. Some did have the typical yellow fur and spots of the Cheetah while some were orange and black striped like Tigers while some had the fur and spots of the Leopard or the blue grey or brown of the Puma. Spyro and his friends all wore the same gleeful expression as they saw Hunter at the forefront of the group, holding up a cheerful wave as his jade eyes shone in the dark.
“Good evening, my friends!” he said warmly, “I trust you had a pleasant trip?”
“It is always pleasant coming to Avalar, Hunter,” Ignitus replied merrily as the four young dragons all wandered around in front of him.
“Hi, Hunter,” Spyro greeted with a smile, “Thanks for letting us stay.”
“You should not thank me, Spyro,” said Hunter as he held up his finger, “Thank Chief Prowlus for it was his decision to allow you to stay with us.”
“Yeah, if only for the sake of diplomacy,” Cynder added dryly. Hunter smiled apologetically and nodded in agreement as he looked to Ignitus and shrugged his shoulders. The laughing and cheerful bantering of the other Cheetah’s suddenly quieted down as one other member of the tribe approached them from behind and strode stiffly as they made way for him. Flame and Ember moved over closer to Spyro and Cynder as they saw the blueish grey eyes and orange fur of Chief Prowlus, carrying a wooden staff in his left hand as he stepped up beside Hunter. Standing together one could see the similarities in their attire, though Prowlus wore a much darker brown tunic with more lavish gold trim to denote himself as the leader of the tribe. His expression was firm and formal as he locked eyes with Ignitus and ignored the young dragons standing beneath him.
“Welcome to Avalar, Ignitus,” he said politely but bluntly, making little effort to hide his surly attitude. Spyro tilted his head up to Ignitus and watched him bow his head respectfully to Prowlus, pretending to ignore his obviously sour demeanor. Only then did the tribe leader turn his attention to the four younglings, regarding them indifferently as they all looked back at him in their own way; Spyro merely nodded formally to him in a token gesture of respect while Cynder stared at him bluntly and unmoved by him. Flame hurriedly straightened up his poncho and stood nervously at attention while Ember tried to soften him with her most cutesy smile which failed to have any effect on him.
“As agreed, I shall take responsibility for these four young dragons for the duration of their stay. But while they are here, they must be on their best behaviour and follow all the rules and laws of our village,” Chief Prowlus said strictly to Ignitus.
“But of course,” Ignitus agreed civilly, “I feel confident enough to give you my word that you should have no trouble from my students. Isn’t that correct?” he asked as he turned his eyes to the students in question.
“Absolutely!” Spyro answered readily.
“Sure,” Cynder said tentatively.
“Yes, sir!” Flame cried while quickly standing on his hind legs apparently in an effort to look more presentable, poncho notwithstanding. Ember pressed all four feet together and uttered a short and quick, “Yes!” in response.
“I hope so,” Prowlus replied judgingly, turning his face back to Ignitus, “Will you be staying with us for dinner, Ignitus?”
“Thank you but no. I must be getting back to Warfang,” he explained.
“Very well,” Prowlus said dispassionately, almost as if relieved. “Safe journey, Ignitus,” Hunter said kindly, seemingly to counter the tribe leader’s indifference. The Fire Guardian nodded thankfully before he gazed upon Spyro and the others who turned around to face him.
“I will see you in two days’ time. You will be in safe hands, but please behave yourselves and stay out of trouble,” he told them earnestly.
“We will, Ignitus. We’ll be okay,” Spyro replied seriously. The old red dragon gave a soft smile as he took the time to regard each of them individually, all four of them smiling back at him endearingly and loyally. He let out a weak sigh as he lifted his head and seemed to stare at nothing out in the valley for a few moments. Spyro raised the ridges of his eyes, about to muster the words to ask if he was alright when the Guardian suddenly flustered his wings and shook off whatever was on his mind.
“Until then, enjoy yourselves!” he bided swiftly as he about turned and leapt away into the air, his massive wings carrying him away into the night sky. Spyro stepped as if to follow but halted, his expression of curiosity following the Fire Guardian as he quickly faded into a speck before vanishing altogether into the dark blue sky. As he did, Prowlus turned stiffly to Hunter,
“These four will be in your charge. Make sure they don’t cause any trouble,” he snapped harshly as he turned and walked back towards the village, waving for the other Cheetah’s to follow.
“Yes, Chief Prowlus,” Hunter replied squarely as his leader left him, turning his head to the four wide eyed youngsters who stared back at him inquisitively. He sighed regretfully as he stepped towards them,
“I’m sorry, young friends. Prowlus still doesn’t know who to treat company.”
“Well, that’s putting it mildly, isn’t it?” Cynder asked sarcastically. Hunter chuckled wryly as he waved them towards the gate,
“Come along the, you are just in time for dinner.”
The four survivors followed Hunter up the slight incline towards the gate, where they could see several Cheetah cubs standing just inside and anxiously awaiting their arrival. The sight of them soon made the four dragons run past Hunter to meet them, the two groups meeting in a foray of laughter, tackles and literal and figurative back slapping. The adult Cheetah’s stood back and watched humorously while Prowlus merely glared at them. The cubs always gave them a warm welcome whenever they visited, finding the presence of dragons in their valley quite a novelty as few of them had ever left Avalar, much less traveled to Warfang. They were of course particularly in awe of Spyro, the Legendary Purple dragon who could wield four elements and not just one, but Flame and Ember and even Cynder found admirers in all of them. For the cubs, just like the Mole pups Spyro had entertained in Warfang, there was nothing more ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ than being able to shoot magic from one’s mouth.
The huts inside of the palisade were generally built in the same way, constructed of timber pillars sourced from the valley that supported the thatched roof and the open second floor made from wooden planks and made accessible by a wooden ladder. The main dwelling was on ground level with the walls consisting of heavy cloth or leather tied to the supporting log pillars. Having seen the inside of them, Spyro knew the ground was generally covered by carpets with a small fire pit in the middle for cooking or warmth when the nights were cold. The second level was generally used for storage of goods and personal items, though some Cheetah’s preferred to sleep on the open second floor rather than on the ground. The huts were all built even spaced around the perimeter of the palisade which had a raised platform running around the inside to allow for archers to fire over at any potential attackers.
Inside the foot of the ‘L’ shape that made up the village were two large cooking fires blazing away with a deer spit roasted over each, a Cheetah beside each one rotating the meat over the flames. There were several wooden benches and tables built around the fires that the Cheetah’s soon settled down upon as they feasted on the day’s hunt. The smell of sizzling venison made Spyro’s mouth water as he and his friends were finally freed from the rowdy cubs as their parents called them to eat. They all looked up at Hunter sheepishly as he chuckled at the reception handed out to the four young dragons. He beckoned towards the awaiting feast as they followed behind him and the palisade gates were closed behind them. Hunter led them towards the fire on the right as they watched the other Cheetah’s enviously as they cheerfully feasted and poured ale or wine from clay flagons into their wooden tankards. The cubs, being younger, drank water and juice made from local fruits and consequently so too could Spyro and his friends be expected to do the same. Hunter led them to a table on the right side of the fire, the villagers already their shifting over to make room for them.
“Thanks!” Spyro said brightly to them as climbed onto the bench and sat his front paws on the table, shuffling over for Cynder as she took a spot on the end. Flame and Ember sat across from them with their backs to the fire, the young red dragon letting Ember take the spot across from Spyro while he sat on the end of the bench. Hunter stood between them at the side of the table as he rubbed his hands together,
“You make yourselves comfortable. I’ll bring you your plates,” he said courteously.
“Thanks Hunter!” they all said together as he strode towards the meat. Barely a moment after he left Flame began squirming in his seat,
“Lets eat already! I’m starving!” he pleaded anxiously.
“I’m surprised you have any room left after all that toffee and humbugs you ate today,” Ember remarked sardonically.
“That was hours ago! I could eat a whole boar!” he boasted.
“Too bad then that they’ve only got deer,” Cynder smirked teasingly. Spyro chuckled as he sat gazing about their surroundings as they waited, the sweet smell of the roast and sizzling flames swept into his nostrils as the laughter and conversations of the villagers filled his ears like an uplifting song. He nodded back to the friendly smiles and nods he got from most of the Cheetah’s whose eyes met his own while he looked back and forth across them. He watched the cubs sitting with their families, observing as siblings bickered and their parents touched each other’s paws or leaned affectionately against one and other. He felt guilty as clouds of jealously began to drift across his mind, telling himself he should feel glad for them instead but his heart remained divided.
The remarks by Glacious had left a stain on his mind. Hunter returned promptly with four plates and drinking bowls for them as it would be easier than for them than trying to handle a tankard. He poured fruit juice from one of the flagons into their bowls as another Cheetah carried a platter of meat that he had carved up and forked a sizeable serving to each of them. Flame was almost drooling as he beheld the feast as Hunter and the cook made their way down and refilled the plates of those ready for a second helping. The smell of the added herbs settling into the meat made their eyes dizzy as the four dragons quickly settled into their meals. It was every bit as good as it looked and smelled, easily topping the snacks they had eaten in Warfang. Through mouthfuls of food both Spyro and Cynder chuckled as they observed the differences in behaviour their friends opposite them; Ember constantly looked down and wiped her mouth to prevent any trace of meat of juice from defiling her precious necklace while Flame, in one of the few instances he didn’t show reserve or timidity, gorged himself as if starved and carelessly used his new poncho like the bib that it resembled.
There was little said between them as they ate and Spyro continued his habit of taking in all that was happening around them. His eyes caught Hunter walking with his own plate as he finished helping to dish out the food for the rest of the tribe. He had expected him to sit with them as he did usually, but instead Hunter strode over to the other fire and sat on one of the benches to eat with the other Cheetahs. As he sat down, Spyro saw Chief Prowlus sitting at one of the tables behind the other fire with eyes looking towards the closed gate. He lifted his head when Hunter sat but said nothing to him, Prowlus turning his head over towards where Spyro was sitting. The purple dragon beamed as their eyes met, he nodded appreciatively to the plate in front of him, but the orange furred feline regarded him scornfully and turned back to his meal. Spyro’s eyes grew large as he pouted sadly, slowly looking back to finish his meal, suddenly feeling less hungry.
The jocular chattering of the Cheetah’s continued on as the feast started to come to its end. Flame had indeed kept to his proclamation and eaten about the weight of a boar in venison, asking for seconds even as his friends had already eaten their fill. His poncho was smudged with juice and meat stains by the time he had finally filled his belly and joined his companions in licking their paws and claws clean. Spyro remained quiet as he kept glancing over towards Prowlus who had not given a second look in their direction since. Hunter finally made his way over to them as the tables were being cleared.
“Eat well, my friends?” he asked cheerfully.
“Very well, Hunter, thank you,” Cynder commended sweetly as they all nodded in agreement with her.
“Thank the chef,” he chuckled lightly, “When we have this place cleaned up, we will be having a story telling which you are welcome to attend.”
“That’s great, we’ll be there!” Flame exclaimed enthusiastically. Spyro felt unusually withdrawn as he suddenly faced Hunter with a curt,
“Are you sure we will be welcome?”
Hunter’s face wore an expression of shock at Spyro’s almost hostile tone. He scowled at him, though more in confusion than in anger.
“Of course you are! Why would you doubt that?” he asked sombrely. Spyro looked at the shared expressions of shock of his companions and sighed apologetically,
“I’m sorry, Hunter, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just can’t help but think that Chief Prowlus would prefer if we didn’t,” he said. Hunter turned around and looked back to where he came, seeing Prowlus talking among a group of the other villagers. He turned back to the young dragons with a firm expression.
“Never mind him. You are our guests and he knows that he must make you feel welcome,” he declared resolutely.
“He’s never made us feel welcome,” Flame added sorely, “Every time we visit, he acts like we’re a disease.”
“He’s always been mistrusting of outsiders. That’s just the way he is,” Hunter answered plainly. There was a grumble among the group but Hunter simply waved his hand dismissively, “Now now, lets not get ourselves into a tizzy. It is by his permission that you have been allowed to stay with us, so lets take that for what it is and say nothing more.”
End of Chapter 8, Part 1
Going forward I will end up doing this for future chapters of similar length.
Chapter 8: Avalarian Nights
"Avalarian nights, like Avalarian days,
Such a wondrous sight,
By foot or by flight,
You'll soon be amazed.
Avalarian nights, like Avalarian days,
Where Cheetah's call home,
Standing guard as they roam,
Never to be displaced ."
The sun hung low over the horizon and was increasingly hidden behind Warfang’s towers and outer walls. Its rays baked the already orange brown skyline in another layer of dark orange as the day drew near its end. This was no more apparent than to the four survivors as they flew just above the towers of the northern quarter of the city in the direction of the Observatory. With sundown being so close, Spyro had suggested that they pay a visit to Mason to see the invention he had spoken of before heading to their rendezvous with Ignitus. The day in Warfang, with a few exceptions, had been an enjoyable outing for the four of them, though only Spyro and Cynder had anything left of the allowance given to them by the Guardians. Flying close together alongside each other, Flame’s ridiculous poncho flailed behind him like a cape and Emer’s new necklace catching the sun as they swung around and between the buildings, the enormous mountain of Castle Hill to the right of them as the four continued laughing and chatting cheerfully as they flew on.
“What do you think he wants to shows us?” Cynder asked loudly as the wind rushed past them, the Observatory now straight ahead.
“Something that will probably blow up in our faces!” Flame answered pensively. Spyro only laughed as they soared alongside the great viaduct they had performed aerobatics on earlier in the day. Had they had more time they may have done so again, but the four friends kept a tight formation as the enormous dome and protruding telescope of the Observatory grew and grew the closer they came. The Celestial Moons began to glow their signature red and green as barely an hour of daylight remained, but in spite of the carefree attitude adopted by the group, Spyro did not want to be late for Ignitus as he looked towards the violet haze covering the sea. As he turned his head back in front, he eyed the telescope that was pointed towards the sky above the mountain range to the north and a flash of inspiration hit him like a lightning rod. To the surprise of his companions, he pulled up sharply away from them, aiming towards the top of the telescope as the others, after a delay, climbed after him. Spyro looked behind him to see that they had indeed followed him, his reasons soon becoming clear as he barely skimmed his claws over the surface of the dome of the observatory. Rather than simply enter through the main entrance, it occurred to the young purple dragon that it was much faster and more fun to enter through the dome, especially as he assumed that Mason would be working with or near the telescope. He flew straight up, his friends following behind as he came to a halt in the air and looked down towards the open viewing port that the enormous telescope would pan up and down in as it observed the heavens. He smiled at the others as they quickly flew up beside him.
“Why do you always have to lead?” asked Cynder indignantly.
“You can take the long way if you like,” he replied in jest.
“What are we doing up here?” queried Ember curiously.
“Going to see Mason!” Flame replied plainly, his straight-faced response flying in the face of why they were flying above the observatory instead of into it. Or perhaps the red dragon just absolutely trusted Spyro regardless of his antics. Regardless, he seemed confused by the scowl he received from Ember as Spyro suddenly propelled himself down into a glide towards the telescope. He aimed at the bottom of the viewing port below the massive telescope, Cynder, Ember and Flame following behind in single file. He swooped into the massive dome of the observatory, banking right as he entered inside and glided towards the floor. The enormous telescope took up most of the center of the dome, the bronze instrument in appearance little different than the smaller handheld devices used by everyday observers and lookouts apart from its giant size. Sat in a platform that turned the entire dome, the instrument had large gears that allowed the machine to turn and adjust its elevation. The behemoth eyeglass progressively narrowed until the eyepiece was little bigger than an average telescope. Spyro’s feet easily touched the floor as he landed just beside the small eyepiece, his friends landing beside him as he gazed about the room.
“Professor?” he called as he moved his head around the interior for the eccentric mole. Silence answered him as the young dragons began to wander about the room, staring at the numerous bookcases and tables that lined the walls of the observation deck. The tables varied in their height, some tall and some short to accommodate dragons and moles. There was a large door just behind telescope with the usual mole sized door built into it for those who worked at the observatory. The furnishings were all built to sit perfectly against the curved walls of the room, the tables and bookcases all purposely curved to make it so. They sat in a linear order; an enormous multi-shelved bookcase followed by one or two curved tables before meeting another large bookcase, the pattern repeating all around the room. Each table was covered in various diagrams, strange devices and vials of colorful, mysterious liquids, some of which bubbled and gave off strange smells. Flame placed his paws up on one of the tables and smelt the fumes of one such vile, cringing before he hastily pulled away.
“We’d better not touch anything,” Spyro said warningly as he gazed in fascination at the giant telescope.
“You think maybe we missed him?” asked Cynder as she peeked onto a table at the tools and mysterious devices strewn across it.
“Maybe he’s already gone to see his old army friends,” suggested Ember. A loud explosion behind the door suddenly rocked the building, shaking the vials and chemicals on the tables and making the four young dragons jump.
“We’re under attack!” screamed Flame as he hastily ducked under a table, the roar of the explosion suddenly followed by the sound of a familiar voice coughing, cursing and ranting behind the door,
“Oh blasted blinking blue blazes!”
“No, it’s just Mason,” Spyro said calmly, Flame sheepishly crawling out from beneath his cover as Ember chuckled at him. The four of them all looked towards the door as they heard Mason’s continued ranting become louder as he walked up the hall towards the door.
“…I should have known black power would be too powerful! I really need to come up with some sort of vent system to get rid of the fumes when that happens…”
The small door creaked open and through it stepped the Professor, his already singed coat made blacker still with smoking vapors rising from the hairs of his mustache and his friar haircut. He was brushing off his sleeves as he stepped through the door, pausing as he beheld the four young dragons standing in front of him, lifting up his spectacles which were smudged with ash.
“Ah! There you are!” he said cheerfully as he pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped off his glasses, “I was afraid you had forgotten about me!”
“Not at all, Professor,” Spyro greeted warmly as they walked up to him, “I guess we just lost track of time, though.”
“Well, no harm done,” the mole said resignedly, “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident. Still, we live and learn.”
“Are you hurt?” asked Ember worriedly.
“Nothing I’m not used to, Miss Ember. Well, I say! What a lovely necklace you have there!” he said brightly as he leaned in to have a closer look at it, lifting his glasses. Ember beamed as Flame inched over beside her,
“Yeah, I bought it for her,” he said casually.
“Really?” asked Mason as he turned to him, pausing abruptly as he beheld the poncho that he was wearing, diverting his trail of thought, “How interesting…”
Cynder promptly cleared her throat as she stepped forwards,
“Hey, yeah its great and all but, wasn’t there something you wanted to show us? I mean, we don’t want to be late for Ignitus…”
“Yes, yes of course!” Mason said readily, pulling his spectacles back down and turning towards the door, “Come along! Its right this way!” he waved for them to follow.
The four exchanged wondering glances with each other as they followed behind Mason as he pushed the door open and waddled through. They entered into a tall stone hallway with a closed door straight across from them, black smoke seeping underneath it and evidently the sight of whatever Mason’s latest wayward experiment had been. The mole professor paid it no heed as they followed him to the right, down a flight of stairs that that spiraled down to the next level. It was surprisingly dark even with the torches reflecting against the white stone walls. The stairs themselves were yet another unique aspect of Warfang; essentially two sets running parallel to each other with the inner most steps being much smaller for moles and the outside steps being much larger for dragons. Spyro and his friends playfully hopped down each of the large steps while Mason scurried down the miniature steps as fast as his little legs could carry him.
Eventually the staircase bought them to the next level and Mason led them into a large open room. Just to the left of the staircase were full sized rectangular windows that allowed the sunlight to stream into the room, it currently being bathed in the orange hues of the sunset. All across the room there was yet more bookcases and tables, some tall and some short, all scattered with papers, bubbling vials, various tools and machine parts. Suspended from the ceiling was a large skeleton of a dragon and the skeleton of a fearsome Dreadwing. Usually this room would be a buzz of activity as numerous mole and dragon scientists studied, experimented and of course argued with each other but all were absent due to the holidays. As soon as they had entered into the room, Spyro and his friends found their eyes fixed on something at the far end of the room that Mason pointed to as he led them toward it.
“Their she is!” he boasted proudly as the group approached. It was a wooden contraption mounted on heavy wooden scaffolds to keep it off the ground. Spyro felt his brain turn inside out as he struggled to comprehend the strange machine.
“What is it?” he asked confusedly.
“It’s my flying machine!” Mason chuckled gleefully, “Soon the skies will not just be the domain of those born with wings!”
The ‘Flying machine’ as he called it was certainly a sight to behold if perhaps not for the reasons he might have hoped. It had a double set of wings that stretched almost the full breadth of the room, almost a hundred feet in length. The top wing was supported by a series of poles and struts from the bottom wing while in the centre of them was a narrow log shaped wooden hull with apparently three mole sized seating compartments. The hull was almost as long as the wings with a smaller tail plane and rudder like fin at the rear. The young dragons wandered around beneath the odd machine as they took at its details. Mason quickly climbed up a ladder that was leaned against the left wing and climbed onto his invention.
“So it flies, does it?” asked Flame doubtfully.
“Yes!” Mason said brightly, “Well, I mean, theoretically it does. I haven’t quite finished it yet.”
“But how?” asked Ember curiously, “Does it flap its wings like a bird?”
Mason chortled, “No, no, Miss Ember. I did some equations and concluded that wasn’t the optimal approach,” he said as he clambered onto the machine and inspected the centre section.
“But why a flying machine?” queried Spyro.
“We already have airships, after all,” added Cynder thoughtfully. Mason peered down to the floor at them as he leaned against the wooden frame.
“That’s true, Miss Cynder, but they are large and slow moving and need an entire crew to operate them. My intention is to create something that a single mole could operate. Something that would allow us to soar through the skies alongside our dragon allies, for leisure and for battle if need be. Imagine hundreds of these machines swooping over the Apes and dropping ordinance right on top of their heads! I wish I’d had the idea during my army years!”
The four young dragons all looked at each other ambivalently at Mason’s words. The fact was despite his proven genius, the Professor had thought up as many if not more hair brained schemes that never came to pass. But he had always told them that their was no such thing as a failed experiment so long as you learned something from it, even if all you learn is how something doesn’t work. Spyro jumped into the air and hovered just beside the end of the left wing of the machine, his eyes narrowing as he peered at the struts and strings that connected through them. His companions all did the same as they hovered around and stared in wonder at the bizarre contraption.
“Let me show you how it works!” Mason grinned excitedly as he clambered into the front seat of the hull. He grasped a wooden stick that sat just in front of him and began moving it backwards and forwards and sideways. As he did the strings on the wings began to move about, causing small flaps as the back of the wings to rise and fall in response. The machine creaked painfully as he worked a set of pedals that made the tailfin turn left and right like the tail of a fish.
“In flight, this is how I will control the machine,” he explained in a raised voice as the creaking grew louder, “It’s all very simple, not much harder than rowing a boat.”
“But how does it fly? What makes it move?” Cynder shouted over the noise.
“What?” he shouted. Spyro flew closer to the machine and made a funnel with his front paws around his mouth,
“What makes it fly?!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Aha!” exclaimed the Professor as he raised an inspired finger, “That’s perhaps the best part!” The whining of the machine thankfully came to end as he left the controls and clambered out onto the wing, the young dragons breathing a sigh of relief as the mole climbed across the wing and began to clamber down the ladder. They each dropped easily back to their feet as Mason touched down after them.
“Just over here!” he said as he turned towards a low table pressed against the wall to the right of the machine. The expressions worn by the four young dragons showed little faith in his invention but also a reluctance to let their true thoughts be known, especially when he seemed so happy to show it to them. That fact bought on a question from Ember,
“So who else have you shown this to?”
“Aside from my colleagues? Nobody! You are the first members of the public to see this invention, my friends.”
“Well, we’re very honored,” Ember said in a well disguised fib.
“It’s my pleasure,” he replied cheerfully as they reached the table. Spyro raised his eyebrows again in perplextion as the group beheld two roughly hexagonal metal boxes that were similarly sized to beer kegs. The one on the left sat facing them while the one on the right sat on its short end with its other end facing the ceiling. There was a double bladed wooden fan attacked to it while a second fan presumably for the other box sat idly on the table. Beside them both were two yellow electrically infused crystals, their light shimmering against the metal boxes.
“What are these things?” Spyro asked. Mason stepped up onto the table and put a proud hand against the upturned metal box.
“A new propulsion system I’m working on. I call it an ‘Elemental combustion engine’,” he said as he leaned down and picked up one of the yellow crystals, “My theory is that I can use the power of element infused gems such as these to power these engines to propel my craft through the sky,” he illustrated by sweeping the gem over his head like it were his machine in flight.
“Uh, okay,” nodded Spyro doubtfully. The Professor obliviously began examining the yellow crystal and twisting it about in his hands thoughtfully as the others peered more closely at his peculiar designs. Looking to his left he saw a frown of thought or perhaps disappointment suddenly creased Cynder’s brow as she eyed the second crystal.
“So these engines are going to be powered by electricity?” she inquired.
“Well, for the moment, yes, but theoretically I could use any element. Electricity or Fire seem the best suited though,” Mason replied.
“What about Wind?” Cynder suggested sharply. Spyro felt a touch of concern arise as he looked to see Mason’s response. The professor scratched his head and then his chin as he processed the theory.
“Wind you say? I must admit I hadn’t given it any thought. There aren’t any Wind dragons who work here after all and there isn’t much call for Wind crystals.”
“Just a suggestion,” Cynder said dolefully. Spyro reacted almost immediately,
“Hey, uh, thanks very much Professor but I think we’d better get going now. Like you said, Cynder, we don’t want to keep Ignitus waiting.”
“Of course, of course,” Mason nodded readily, “I need to start to get ready myself for my reunion with my old regiment.”
“Thanks very much, Professor,” said Flame cheerily. “We appreciate you showing us this,” added Ember.
“Not at all, my friends,” Mason smiled, “You’d best be on your way, now. Don’t want you to get in trouble with Ignitus.”
“Oh I’m sure we’ll find a way,” Cynder replied with cynical humor as she turned to leave, “Have a good time, Professor.”
“And you, Miss Cynder,” he returned dutifully. Spyro was the last to turn as he beckoned the mole in good nature,
“Goodbye, Mason, we’ll see you later!”
The sun was half submerged behind the horizon as the four who lived flew out of the dome of the observatory, sights set on the far end of the city. They flew once more along the viaduct that ran the length of the city towards the western gate where they were expected. The great colossus that was Castle Hill stared down on them as the four young dragons flew towards it as they saw the lamps being lit on the viaduct. A pair of red fire dragons with a mole standing on their heads with a wooden pole and wick walked along the viaduct and lit each torch ceremonially. Spyro waved to them as they flew over before he and his friends pulled sharply to the left to circumvent the plateau on which Castle Hill stood. They swept past the tall shaded cliffside and the three spine like stone ridges that grew out the side of the mountain like the roots of a tree. As they swept around to the other side the viaduct came into view stretching onward towards the western gate. They banked to the right until they flew four abreast over the viaduct, passing over another pair of lamplighters as they pressed onward.
“I hope we’re not too late or we might get in trouble,” Flame called out nervously as they approached the guard towers of the blocky western gatehouse.
“It’s only just on sundown, we’ll be okay,” Spyro called back reassuringly as he glanced at the massive walls that surrounded the entire city, noting how they rose and fell with the landscape the closer they came to them. He looked ahead and saw a distinctive red silhouette standing just outside the open gateway as a few late trade caravans passed through behind the city’s walls. Spyro smiled as he saw Ignitus waiting for them, glancing quickly to his companions as they all stared at each other in relief that he didn’t look angry. They hopped over the caravans heading in and steadily glided down onto the viaduct just as they entered the arch of the gatehouse. The four young dragons quickly galloped through the passage of the gatehouse as the Fire Guardian stepped slowly forwards from the outside.
“Good evening, Ignitus,” they all said together.
“Good evening, young dragons,” he replied with a wry smile, “Arriving in the nick of time, I see.”
“We went to see Mason,” Flame quickly explained fearfully, “He had something he wanted to show us!” Ignitus only chuckled at his immediately fearful response.
“I’m sure he did. I can see you spent your time and money in the city well,” he said as he eyed Ember’s golden necklace and Flame’s ridiculous poncho, “I hope there wasn’t any trouble.”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle, Ignitus,” Spyro explained confidently, his eyes shooting over to Cynder who smiled at him thoughtfully. The Fire Guardian eyed him fondly but suspiciously,
“I was thinking more of trouble that perhaps had followed the four of you, but as I see no angry locals in need of placating, I’m going to assume you have behaved yourselves,” he said as he turned his heavy bulk around towards the green lands outside the city.
“Of course,” Cynder assured him firmly. She and Spyro, Flame and Ember took places either side of Ignitus. The Guardian arched his head up to the sky as he and his young companions observed the first glimmers of the first stars beginning to appear. The top layer of the sky was a shade of deep violet as the last traces of orange slowly reseeded as the crest of the sun faded behind the horizon. Ignitus lowered his gaze and cast a look over the four young dragons standing either side of him.
“Well, then, are we ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Spyro nodded affirmatively.
“To Avalar, then?” asked Ember excitedly.
“To Avalar it is!” Ignitus grinned broadly, his massive wings shot outwards and with a great thrust of his legs, he leapt into the air with a tremendous whoosh of his wings. Spyro and the others staggered back from the gust of air created by the Fire Guardian as they watched him climb swiftly into the sky.
“Come on, lets go!” Spyro cried eagerly as he took off after him, Cynder, Flame and Ember following swiftly as they chased after Ignitus. The Fire Guardian looked over his shoulder to them as he continued to climb at a steep angle, the forests and pristine fields soon dominating the world below. He gradually leveled out just below the cloud cover, Spyro and the others catching up and following close alongside him. The purple dragon looked behind at his friends and at the city they had left. Warfang was now becoming a distant silhouette as tiny specks of light began popping up all across her walls, towers and streets as the night steadily came. The night air was chilled as Spyro breathed it in deeply, the only sound being the rhythmic beats of the mighty wings of Ignitus that drowned the sound of his own wings flapping like mad.
The Celestial Moons shone at their full brilliance as the sky became alight with clumps of millions of stars like millions of glistening eyes staring down at the world beneath them. They passed over the great fields of the outlying farmlands and a few cottages and outposts that dotted the landscape. Only a few clouds mingled as the landscape shone almost as brightly in the moonlight as during the day, the rolling hills and dense forests alive with fireflies and hooting owls. Clumps of Spirit gems growing free in the wild glistened all about the land as the moonlight shone through them, flashes of red, green, blue and pink all glimmering like stars in their own right. As Spyro looked upon all this below, he thought that in truth when the sun went down the world did not go to sleep, rather its other half came to life to claim the night as its own. He couldn’t help but murmur a laugh of happiness as he admired how truly beautiful it all was. But as an hour drifted by and soon another, he was unable to suppress the nagging thoughts and feelings that he had tried his best to keep down all afternoon. Thoughts and feelings all stemming from the unpleasant meeting with Glacious and her entourage. He may not have been the main target of her vitriol, but her final remarks had affected him more than he had let show, even with him drowning his screams in the fountain. How dare she make such a deeply personal remark? To mock the fact that he and his friends were orphans? Even for her it seemed simply too mean spirited to believe. But she had and it had brought back questions and emotions he thought he had left behind him and hadn’t considered in years.
Spyro and Cynder, Flame and Ember had no living relations. They were orphans. But Flame and Ember at least knew who their parents had been. Flame had come from a family of purebred firedragons that had all perished in the war against Malefor. His mother he was told was named Fiamma and his father named Azur. Both had been members of Ignitus’s own Battalion of dragons, the Inferno Battalion and had died in the defence of Warfang the night of the temple raid. Ember’s mother had been an Ice dragoness named Noelle and her father a Fire dragon named Fheenix, their mixed courtship having resulted in her confusing coloration and perhaps prematurely decided name. The near constant wars that had been fought against the Apes ever since Malefor’s betrayal had severely affected the dragon population and left many family lines greatly reduced or destroyed altogether, hence the four of them living at the temple. But Flame and Ember at least had those names to hold onto, something of their lost families.
But he and Cynder had nothing. They had no inkling about who their real parents were, about their real families. Of course, they had asked the Guardians but there was little to learn from them. Along with the many dragons who had died in the war against the apes, many records of names and logs of births in Warfang had been destroyed in the many sieges and attacks the city had endured. Ignitus had told them that Cynder’s egg had once been among those kept inside city before ending up with those sent to the temple along with those Flame, Ember and Spyro. A great raid by Dreadwings had caused heavy damage and losses to Warfang and in all the confusion and chaos who her parents had been had been lost. No one had come forward to claim her egg and even with Wind dragons being a relative minority in Warfang, it had been assumed her parents had been among those killed.
As for Spyro, there was just as little to be learned. As the purple dragon is a creature of magic, a miracle of fate, it did not matter the color or element of the parents if fate chose that their offspring would be such a legendary dragon. Perhaps it was because of this that his egg had been anonymously delivered to the Dragon Temple with no information as to who it had belonged to. Like with Cynder, no one had come forward to claim it before or after his egg had hatched, the most likely reason being his parents had been killed without letting anyone know they had been the ones to conceive the legendary purple dragon.
“Perhaps they believed it was the safest thing to do,” Ignitus had told him years ago when he had told them the story.
‘Or maybe they just didn’t want the burden,’ Spyro now thought coldly.
The terrain began to become more mountainous, a tell-tale sign that they were closing on their destination. From up high Spyro could see the wide dispersed mountain ranges that formed a natural wall to the valleys below. He stared more intently as the snowy peaks of the high formations began to give way to the smaller, grey faced and grassy topped plateaus that typified the Valleys of Avalar. He looked around himself and saw the increased excitement in the faces of his companions as they soon saw the twin moon’s reflection on the mountain streams that snaked their way over the landscape. Just ahead they saw the land clearing and giving way to a larger valley that was surrounded by tall cliffs and more dense green forests. Streaming through the valley like a belt of crystal was the Avalar river, fuelled from the mountain streams that poured over two waterfalls at either end of the valley. In just moments the five dragons were flying above the piece of paradise that was their destination; Avalar.
“A sight that never grows weary!” Ignitus declared cheerfully as he ceased the heavy beating of his wings and held them out flat, allowing his speed and the air to carry him silently above the glorious scene below. Spyro followed his example as did the others, in moments the night was filled only in the sound of the wind rushing past them and the nurturing sound of the river flowing through the valley. At its southern end stood one of the towering waterfalls that could be found throughout the valley as it poured into the river which uniquely looped around the center of the valley, essentially creating a small island in the middle that the ring of water surrounded. From there the stream broke off into a few different, separate streams that funneled water all around the mountains and surrounding valleys. Ignitus banked gently to the right, his compatriots doing the same as they swerved slowly towards the northern end of the valley. In the distance were the lights and smoke of a village just to the right of the river, which turned to the left and continued to run along the valley.
The village was where lived Hunter and the rest of the Prolwus Cheetah tribe that called the valley home. The village was built in the northeast corner of the valley, surrounded by wooden palisade walls that formed a loose inverted ‘L’ shape while a small wooden dock was built just out into the river beside the village. Inside the palisade were the wooden huts that the Cheetah’s lived, though several other buildings were also built throughout the valley outside its walls. Inside the village at the three corners of the ‘L’ were three tall wooden watch towers which resembled the crow’s nests seen on the Doxantha,bearing the crimson banner adorned with the image of a flaming Cheetah’s paw that was the Prowlus insignia. The dragons began to descend as they approached the village, seeing the figures of the Cheetah’s in and around it looking up at them as the lookouts in the towers evidently saw them. Spyro and the others followed Ignitus as he banked across the river and lined up on the entrance to the village as a small crowd began to gather and advance down the dirt path through the open gates.
The Fire Guardian landed gracefully as he landed just beside the dock with Spyro and the others landing just behind him. He looked behind to be sure they had landed safely before as a group they walked to greet the welcome party strolling out to meet them. The dozen or so laughing and waving felines all looked fairly similar in appearance and while they were all collectively referred to as “Cheetah’s” their fur colour and patterns was wide ranging. Some did have the typical yellow fur and spots of the Cheetah while some were orange and black striped like Tigers while some had the fur and spots of the Leopard or the blue grey or brown of the Puma. Spyro and his friends all wore the same gleeful expression as they saw Hunter at the forefront of the group, holding up a cheerful wave as his jade eyes shone in the dark.
“Good evening, my friends!” he said warmly, “I trust you had a pleasant trip?”
“It is always pleasant coming to Avalar, Hunter,” Ignitus replied merrily as the four young dragons all wandered around in front of him.
“Hi, Hunter,” Spyro greeted with a smile, “Thanks for letting us stay.”
“You should not thank me, Spyro,” said Hunter as he held up his finger, “Thank Chief Prowlus for it was his decision to allow you to stay with us.”
“Yeah, if only for the sake of diplomacy,” Cynder added dryly. Hunter smiled apologetically and nodded in agreement as he looked to Ignitus and shrugged his shoulders. The laughing and cheerful bantering of the other Cheetah’s suddenly quieted down as one other member of the tribe approached them from behind and strode stiffly as they made way for him. Flame and Ember moved over closer to Spyro and Cynder as they saw the blueish grey eyes and orange fur of Chief Prowlus, carrying a wooden staff in his left hand as he stepped up beside Hunter. Standing together one could see the similarities in their attire, though Prowlus wore a much darker brown tunic with more lavish gold trim to denote himself as the leader of the tribe. His expression was firm and formal as he locked eyes with Ignitus and ignored the young dragons standing beneath him.
“Welcome to Avalar, Ignitus,” he said politely but bluntly, making little effort to hide his surly attitude. Spyro tilted his head up to Ignitus and watched him bow his head respectfully to Prowlus, pretending to ignore his obviously sour demeanor. Only then did the tribe leader turn his attention to the four younglings, regarding them indifferently as they all looked back at him in their own way; Spyro merely nodded formally to him in a token gesture of respect while Cynder stared at him bluntly and unmoved by him. Flame hurriedly straightened up his poncho and stood nervously at attention while Ember tried to soften him with her most cutesy smile which failed to have any effect on him.
“As agreed, I shall take responsibility for these four young dragons for the duration of their stay. But while they are here, they must be on their best behaviour and follow all the rules and laws of our village,” Chief Prowlus said strictly to Ignitus.
“But of course,” Ignitus agreed civilly, “I feel confident enough to give you my word that you should have no trouble from my students. Isn’t that correct?” he asked as he turned his eyes to the students in question.
“Absolutely!” Spyro answered readily.
“Sure,” Cynder said tentatively.
“Yes, sir!” Flame cried while quickly standing on his hind legs apparently in an effort to look more presentable, poncho notwithstanding. Ember pressed all four feet together and uttered a short and quick, “Yes!” in response.
“I hope so,” Prowlus replied judgingly, turning his face back to Ignitus, “Will you be staying with us for dinner, Ignitus?”
“Thank you but no. I must be getting back to Warfang,” he explained.
“Very well,” Prowlus said dispassionately, almost as if relieved. “Safe journey, Ignitus,” Hunter said kindly, seemingly to counter the tribe leader’s indifference. The Fire Guardian nodded thankfully before he gazed upon Spyro and the others who turned around to face him.
“I will see you in two days’ time. You will be in safe hands, but please behave yourselves and stay out of trouble,” he told them earnestly.
“We will, Ignitus. We’ll be okay,” Spyro replied seriously. The old red dragon gave a soft smile as he took the time to regard each of them individually, all four of them smiling back at him endearingly and loyally. He let out a weak sigh as he lifted his head and seemed to stare at nothing out in the valley for a few moments. Spyro raised the ridges of his eyes, about to muster the words to ask if he was alright when the Guardian suddenly flustered his wings and shook off whatever was on his mind.
“Until then, enjoy yourselves!” he bided swiftly as he about turned and leapt away into the air, his massive wings carrying him away into the night sky. Spyro stepped as if to follow but halted, his expression of curiosity following the Fire Guardian as he quickly faded into a speck before vanishing altogether into the dark blue sky. As he did, Prowlus turned stiffly to Hunter,
“These four will be in your charge. Make sure they don’t cause any trouble,” he snapped harshly as he turned and walked back towards the village, waving for the other Cheetah’s to follow.
“Yes, Chief Prowlus,” Hunter replied squarely as his leader left him, turning his head to the four wide eyed youngsters who stared back at him inquisitively. He sighed regretfully as he stepped towards them,
“I’m sorry, young friends. Prowlus still doesn’t know who to treat company.”
“Well, that’s putting it mildly, isn’t it?” Cynder asked sarcastically. Hunter chuckled wryly as he waved them towards the gate,
“Come along the, you are just in time for dinner.”
The four survivors followed Hunter up the slight incline towards the gate, where they could see several Cheetah cubs standing just inside and anxiously awaiting their arrival. The sight of them soon made the four dragons run past Hunter to meet them, the two groups meeting in a foray of laughter, tackles and literal and figurative back slapping. The adult Cheetah’s stood back and watched humorously while Prowlus merely glared at them. The cubs always gave them a warm welcome whenever they visited, finding the presence of dragons in their valley quite a novelty as few of them had ever left Avalar, much less traveled to Warfang. They were of course particularly in awe of Spyro, the Legendary Purple dragon who could wield four elements and not just one, but Flame and Ember and even Cynder found admirers in all of them. For the cubs, just like the Mole pups Spyro had entertained in Warfang, there was nothing more ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ than being able to shoot magic from one’s mouth.
The huts inside of the palisade were generally built in the same way, constructed of timber pillars sourced from the valley that supported the thatched roof and the open second floor made from wooden planks and made accessible by a wooden ladder. The main dwelling was on ground level with the walls consisting of heavy cloth or leather tied to the supporting log pillars. Having seen the inside of them, Spyro knew the ground was generally covered by carpets with a small fire pit in the middle for cooking or warmth when the nights were cold. The second level was generally used for storage of goods and personal items, though some Cheetah’s preferred to sleep on the open second floor rather than on the ground. The huts were all built even spaced around the perimeter of the palisade which had a raised platform running around the inside to allow for archers to fire over at any potential attackers.
Inside the foot of the ‘L’ shape that made up the village were two large cooking fires blazing away with a deer spit roasted over each, a Cheetah beside each one rotating the meat over the flames. There were several wooden benches and tables built around the fires that the Cheetah’s soon settled down upon as they feasted on the day’s hunt. The smell of sizzling venison made Spyro’s mouth water as he and his friends were finally freed from the rowdy cubs as their parents called them to eat. They all looked up at Hunter sheepishly as he chuckled at the reception handed out to the four young dragons. He beckoned towards the awaiting feast as they followed behind him and the palisade gates were closed behind them. Hunter led them towards the fire on the right as they watched the other Cheetah’s enviously as they cheerfully feasted and poured ale or wine from clay flagons into their wooden tankards. The cubs, being younger, drank water and juice made from local fruits and consequently so too could Spyro and his friends be expected to do the same. Hunter led them to a table on the right side of the fire, the villagers already their shifting over to make room for them.
“Thanks!” Spyro said brightly to them as climbed onto the bench and sat his front paws on the table, shuffling over for Cynder as she took a spot on the end. Flame and Ember sat across from them with their backs to the fire, the young red dragon letting Ember take the spot across from Spyro while he sat on the end of the bench. Hunter stood between them at the side of the table as he rubbed his hands together,
“You make yourselves comfortable. I’ll bring you your plates,” he said courteously.
“Thanks Hunter!” they all said together as he strode towards the meat. Barely a moment after he left Flame began squirming in his seat,
“Lets eat already! I’m starving!” he pleaded anxiously.
“I’m surprised you have any room left after all that toffee and humbugs you ate today,” Ember remarked sardonically.
“That was hours ago! I could eat a whole boar!” he boasted.
“Too bad then that they’ve only got deer,” Cynder smirked teasingly. Spyro chuckled as he sat gazing about their surroundings as they waited, the sweet smell of the roast and sizzling flames swept into his nostrils as the laughter and conversations of the villagers filled his ears like an uplifting song. He nodded back to the friendly smiles and nods he got from most of the Cheetah’s whose eyes met his own while he looked back and forth across them. He watched the cubs sitting with their families, observing as siblings bickered and their parents touched each other’s paws or leaned affectionately against one and other. He felt guilty as clouds of jealously began to drift across his mind, telling himself he should feel glad for them instead but his heart remained divided.
The remarks by Glacious had left a stain on his mind. Hunter returned promptly with four plates and drinking bowls for them as it would be easier than for them than trying to handle a tankard. He poured fruit juice from one of the flagons into their bowls as another Cheetah carried a platter of meat that he had carved up and forked a sizeable serving to each of them. Flame was almost drooling as he beheld the feast as Hunter and the cook made their way down and refilled the plates of those ready for a second helping. The smell of the added herbs settling into the meat made their eyes dizzy as the four dragons quickly settled into their meals. It was every bit as good as it looked and smelled, easily topping the snacks they had eaten in Warfang. Through mouthfuls of food both Spyro and Cynder chuckled as they observed the differences in behaviour their friends opposite them; Ember constantly looked down and wiped her mouth to prevent any trace of meat of juice from defiling her precious necklace while Flame, in one of the few instances he didn’t show reserve or timidity, gorged himself as if starved and carelessly used his new poncho like the bib that it resembled.
There was little said between them as they ate and Spyro continued his habit of taking in all that was happening around them. His eyes caught Hunter walking with his own plate as he finished helping to dish out the food for the rest of the tribe. He had expected him to sit with them as he did usually, but instead Hunter strode over to the other fire and sat on one of the benches to eat with the other Cheetahs. As he sat down, Spyro saw Chief Prowlus sitting at one of the tables behind the other fire with eyes looking towards the closed gate. He lifted his head when Hunter sat but said nothing to him, Prowlus turning his head over towards where Spyro was sitting. The purple dragon beamed as their eyes met, he nodded appreciatively to the plate in front of him, but the orange furred feline regarded him scornfully and turned back to his meal. Spyro’s eyes grew large as he pouted sadly, slowly looking back to finish his meal, suddenly feeling less hungry.
The jocular chattering of the Cheetah’s continued on as the feast started to come to its end. Flame had indeed kept to his proclamation and eaten about the weight of a boar in venison, asking for seconds even as his friends had already eaten their fill. His poncho was smudged with juice and meat stains by the time he had finally filled his belly and joined his companions in licking their paws and claws clean. Spyro remained quiet as he kept glancing over towards Prowlus who had not given a second look in their direction since. Hunter finally made his way over to them as the tables were being cleared.
“Eat well, my friends?” he asked cheerfully.
“Very well, Hunter, thank you,” Cynder commended sweetly as they all nodded in agreement with her.
“Thank the chef,” he chuckled lightly, “When we have this place cleaned up, we will be having a story telling which you are welcome to attend.”
“That’s great, we’ll be there!” Flame exclaimed enthusiastically. Spyro felt unusually withdrawn as he suddenly faced Hunter with a curt,
“Are you sure we will be welcome?”
Hunter’s face wore an expression of shock at Spyro’s almost hostile tone. He scowled at him, though more in confusion than in anger.
“Of course you are! Why would you doubt that?” he asked sombrely. Spyro looked at the shared expressions of shock of his companions and sighed apologetically,
“I’m sorry, Hunter, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just can’t help but think that Chief Prowlus would prefer if we didn’t,” he said. Hunter turned around and looked back to where he came, seeing Prowlus talking among a group of the other villagers. He turned back to the young dragons with a firm expression.
“Never mind him. You are our guests and he knows that he must make you feel welcome,” he declared resolutely.
“He’s never made us feel welcome,” Flame added sorely, “Every time we visit, he acts like we’re a disease.”
“He’s always been mistrusting of outsiders. That’s just the way he is,” Hunter answered plainly. There was a grumble among the group but Hunter simply waved his hand dismissively, “Now now, lets not get ourselves into a tizzy. It is by his permission that you have been allowed to stay with us, so lets take that for what it is and say nothing more.”
End of Chapter 8, Part 1
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Dragon (Other)
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
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