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"And here we are!"
I want to thank everyone who has read and enjoyed this little series thing I've been making, I hope you've all enjoyed it in some form or another. But all good things must come to an end and so must this.
(I mean I might make a sequel series of some hero going through the newly ruled realms and facing the trials within, but thats only if I feel if I can because I did not expect it to take this long to make. Work and Anxiety, am I right?)
You all know the drill, it's KDTF...I mean the non-download section.
______________________________________________________________________
The metal slab disintegrated at Elora’s touch, giving the faun a full view into the treasure sanctum. It was just as Spyro had described it: a small, sad room with little than a TV, a couch, and a large portrait of Gnasty Gnorc himself, all of which were frosted with dust.
Spyro meanwhile had already rushed in and was stretching himself out in a sunbeam coming through the cracked ceiling. “You should have seen all this when I first stepped in. All that treasure Gnorc-Butt had stolen just sitting there, sad like him.”
“I bet.” Elora gave the sofa cushions a smack, evicting the dust before sitting down herself. She had to admit, it was pretty soft and didn’t feel like it had been sat on in ages. This was no doubt because Gnasty had all but vanished from the Dragon Realms and what followers he had were scattered to the winds. This had left Gnasty Gnexus, or 'The Dragon Junkyards’ as they were originally called, in a state of serene disrepair. Ever since Elora and Spyro had touched ground, it had been nothing but rusting metal, weapons in various states disassembly, and hordes of rats foraging the remains of an army.
Both had cared little for the scenery, but it was the last stop on Elora’s whirlwind tour of the Dragon Realms and there had been nothing to fear thanks to the DreamWeavers. Though Elora couldn’t remember what they did, both she and Spyro had been given clean bills of health and that was all they had needed to set their minds at ease.
The faun glanced to her sides as she shifted in her seat. “Hey Spyro…you think the TV still works?”
“Doubt it.” Spyro said through a yawn. “Most of the generators here look busted.” The dragonfly Sparx chimed in agreement before landing on his friend’s wingtip and closing his eyes.
The faun hopped over to the next cushion and shimmied about. She had become aware of a hard lump poking through the couch and was trying to determine where it was coming from.
“Well, I think I found the remote, so we’ll see.” The faun heaved the cushion off and eyed the contents. There were a few loose gems and buckets of lint and dust on the supports, and sitting at the bottom of it all was a large staff. It was identical to the one in Gnasty Gnorc’s portrait; a massive hammer-like mess. A strange thought came to the faun, a small familiar tickle that pushed her to grasp the ownerless staff. Despite it’s size and centerpiece, the faun heaved it like one would a stick.
“Did ya find the re…woah…” The little dragon turned wide eyed at the sight. The staff was unmistakable. It was also impossible. The last time Spyro had ever set eyes on the brute that owned it, it was when he had kicked him from his throne. Last the dragon knew, the green creatin had taken the staff with him.
For a moment, the two friends were silent, staring at the staff the faun was so easily wielding, then Elora started to laugh. She gave the best roar she could given her humor and tried to twirl the large pole about. “Beware Spyro; for I, Gnasty Gnorc, have returned!”
The purple dragon caught on and laughed along before painting a look of worry on himself. “Oh no! I thought I got rid of you!”
After a swing made slow enough for Spyro to dodge, Elora made her laughter turn dark. “That’s right Spyro, and I’m gonna make you pay for kicking my butt.” She swung again, knocking the forgotten TV over and losing her balance alongside it.
The retreating dragon wiggled his tail back and forth as he scurried away. “Gotta catch me first greeny!” His snickering echoed through the doorway and out into the smog-draped day. “Running was just all you were good for anyways!”
“Well I can’t help it if I’m a coward!” The faun picked herself up and followed her friend. “Can’t help being fat either, so slow down, will ya?” Manufactured gasps for air mingled with the clopping of hooves as Elora ran on, giggling as she imagined what her persona sounded like. It was an unfortunate thought that Elora missed the dragon taking down what sounded like a pathetic foe, it would have made a nice change from the terrors of Ripto or Hunter’s recounts of the Sorceress from the Forgotten Realms. To see such a small dragon take on something like the Gnorc in the portraits lining the walls must have been some sight.
The voice of Elora’s ‘target’ was enough to lead her through the divulging paths through the metal compound. “Awww, whats the matter? Would…umm..‘G-Lazy Gnorc’ be a better name for ya? Oh, that was pathetic, Sparx, what do you have?”
As the dragonfly’s buzzing now sounded through the halls, Elora slowed her pace. She had just come to another junction in the hallway. It sounded like both ways held her friends’ voices, though one was farther out than the other. She turned to the left corridor and more carefully made her way through. She had to spin her staff (it might as well be hers since it was unlikely Gnasty was coming back to claim it) in line with some of the ridges of the hall, but it seemed to work. Not once did she hear her targets’ conversation end.
The purple lights of the hall came to stop as the faun came upon a large area-type room. The faded scorch mark and thin stench similar to the treasure room betrayed another popular spot of the Genux’s former ruler. The faun found herself standing on a raised platform, with a particular dragon standing off at the far end of the room, unaware he had just been fooled. Elora couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore but took that as a sign they still didn’t hear her approach.
With a playful roar of “Revenge for the Gnorcs!”, Elora jumped from her perch and pointed her staff at the dragon. Spyro whirled around just in time to watch as emerald tip began to spark and sputter. Intinct told him to roll away, and it turned out to be the right call as a ball of dark green energy rocketed towards him. Neither dragon nor dragonfly were hit, but Elora found the wind knocked from her by the unplanned strike. The shot itself was not done with it’s mischef either, for it bounced off the wall and began ricocheting about with abandon. Spyro hadn’t time to call out before a particular angle sent the sphere of magic hurtling towards the dazed faun and couldn’t get there fast enough to stop it from striking her in the head. There was some part of Spyro’s mind that shivered at the sight of this, but the dragon couldn’t place where it was coming from. Elora didn’t seem to be turning to crystal, which was the most he ever saw Gnasty’s spells do, yet Spyro found himself pleading to the Great Elders that his friend was alright.
“Sheesh, that was a surprise.” There was no pain, no shortness of breath, nothing to indicate the faun was aware of what had happened. “Guess I should of expected a spare wand to have some magic in it. What’s wrong Spyro?”
Perhaps the dragon had been mistaken? He would have to keep an eye on her, but decided to play it cool. “I guess not, just making sure you didn’t hurt yourself…Gnora.”
It took a moment for Elora to process the joke, and then the two were laughing all over again. “Yeah, Gnasty Gnora. That’s a good one.”
What the momentary bout of worry over, the duo decided to leave the arena before they found anything else of dangerous worth. Despite that train of thought however, Elora did not discard the staff, but held it close as they went out into the greater Gnexus.
Neither she nor Spyro noticed a dark green flash in the faun’s eyes.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Perhaps it was only the sunset that gave the shipyard any sort of appeal, the vast shadows of the iron boats covering the busted crates and rats scurrying to and fro. That had to be it, Elora thought, that had to be why this Realm seemed so agreeable when she had despised it not too long ago. Of course, there was also the dragon beside her, sitting atop the welded stack of barrels overlooking the harbor.
The faun stroked her staff, imagining she was stroking his tail instead, or perhaps his head. Her brown fur was hiding a deep velvet blush at the thought of her precious dragon so close at hand. Ever since she had started this journey, all she had wanted was to be alone with her beloved hero. Then the blackouts began, and whatever actions the faun had taken during that time hardly mattered or counted. Ever since they had left Gnasty’s fortress, however, the urge for his attention had grown, festered even as the dragon seemed unaware.
The faun slid closer to Spyro. He still paid little mind.
“Spyro…I want to thank you for this little trip.”
“Well, I can’t really say there’s been a trip. I can barely remember anything that happened.”
“I know what you mean. Pretty sure those DreamWeavers took more out than they said.” Elora looked to Spyro’s paw amidst a green pulse.
“They were just doing their job. I’m sure they did what they had to.”
Elora grunted at the comment. “Yeah, their job. And meanwhile they have you to do yours.”
“Something up Elora?”
The faun hugged her staff tight to her chest. “It’s just…when was the last time you ever had time like this? Time to relax? Cause I can tell you, between keeping Avalar from burying its collective heads in the sand and keeping Hunter and the Professor from marching off a cliff, I don’t think I had one for a long time.”
The venom those words were laced with sent Spyro’s mind shivering again. “You must be doing a good job though.”
“Yeah, keeping everyone happy but myself.”
The dragon scratched at his perch, trying to keep the faun’s words from digging too deep at his psyche. He would be lying to both parties if he denied feeling just the same. Trying to make light of the situation, he gave a playful poke at Elora’s staff. “Maybe, I seem to recall someone snatching me from my vacation to deal with their problems.”
That seemed to lighten the faun’s mood, but not the grip she held on her staff. “Yeah, guess I got no right to complain. Still though.” She returned to her silent mood after speaking, and so did Spyro. Amidst an emerald sea, the faun’s eyes twitched back and forth between the dragon and her hooves, then to the harbor, then finally to the staff he held so tightly. With a deep breath, she made her decision. “You know Spyro, I have an idea…” The dragon perked his head up. Without thinking to, Elora’s staff shot a small spark at her lips, painting them in a grassy green hue. “Why don’t we pretend, just for the rest of the day, that we don’t have anything to worry about? No one in all the Realms to care for but ourselves? What would you do?”
Now both sets of claws were marking barrels, their owner stammering out a reply while fixed on the sudden plumpness of his friend’s lips.
She had her answer, and Elora took no time reciprocating it. She threw herself against the dragon and pursed her lips as tightly as she could so every inch of her lips caressed his cheek. Despite the reptilian features that suggested cold-blood, Spyro’s face was burning hot. The faun made sure to pull away as slow as she could, letting a sloppy pop escape her as she left a detailed kiss mark on the still-stammering dragon.
Up above, Sparx was ready to cheer for his friend. It was about time someone among them made their move and he knew Elora had no reason to fear a broken heart. He also knew however that Elora’s fur was brown and not the grassy green hue creeping across her face. The faun dove in for another kiss, leaving another mark on Spyro’s other cheek. Thin, veiny strands of green were already reaching across Elora’s ears and the dragonfly started to buzz and flash in alarm. His friend couldn’t be reached however as Elora shot for blood with a massive smooch right on his lips. Smoke billowed out the dragon’s nose from the internal heat and his eyes crisscrossed at what should have been a simple dream come true. Alongside this, Elora aimed her staff with her free hand and fired off. At such close range, Sparx had no hope to dodge the attack and a crystal dragonfly plummeted into the water.
When faun and dragon finally tore away from one another, Elora laughed at the dragon’s face. She had aimed her lips perfectly, Spyro’s mouth showing a pair of perfectly defined lip marks. “Oh wow Spyro, since when did you like lipstick?”
Unaware of Sparx’s fate, Spyro felt across his mouth and winced at the slick texture of the kiss mark. He was unable to voice his distaste, however. “Since you put it on.” His mouth betrayed him. The shock of it brought the dragon back to reality and so able to see the gnorcish pallor his friend’s head had embraced. The faun had flashed a smile as well, giving Spyro a full view of the fangs that had slid into her teeth.
“Why Spyro, you sure know how to flatter a faun, don’t you?” Without hesitation, Elora shot a bolt down at the dragon’s feet barked with a snap of her fingers, “Why don’t you kneel and do some more?”
Once more, Spyro’s body acted against his wishes, doing as he was ordered while his mouth flapped without his consideration or shame involved. “Everything about you is just perfect Elora, I fell in love with you from the day we met.” There was no filter to his thoughts, it was just straight from the brain to the world. It wasn’t that it was untrue, but it was just about the last way Spyro had ever wanted to let it be known.
The transforming Elora didn’t seem to care as she squealed at the proclamation. “I knew it! I knew it! Hunter and Moneybags told me it wasn’t true, but I showed them!” The faun was leaping for joy, shaking the tower of barrels as she did so. “I guess we should go somewhere a little more structurally sound, eh? Let me see if I…can…” She closed her eyes, letting a violet glow from the staff envelop her. With little more than a click, the pair found themselves on the deck of a barge. “Wow, this staff is awesome! Don’t you think Spyro?”
There was a moment’s pause before Spyro realized the spell over her mouth had been released. Evidentially, Elora didn’t have the grasp on magic she thought she did. A cursory wiggle of his toes confirmed it, but one look at his friend told him running was a good idea. In the light of the setting sun, Spyro could see the reflection off the faun’s leafy clothes as an metallic sheen glazed over it.
“Sure Elora, I bet you’re better than old Gnorc-Butt with it.”
There wasn’t a sign from the faun of her understanding Spyro’s gambit. Though she felt insulted, if only by her own amateurish mistake, she was more than prepared to play Spyro’s game. “True, quite true.” A green paw adorned with blue claw-like nails tapped her staff. “So how about a little round two?”
With another snap, Spyro found himself back in Gnasty’s arena, Elora on the balcony while he was stuck on the ground floor.
“How about you put up a real fight this time, dragon?”
Before Elora had even finished her proclamation, a series of multicolored bolts shot from her staff with machinegun speed. Ready as he was, Spyro dodged the initial fire, but found himself charging just to stay ahead.
“Elora!” Spyro roared over the magic bolts, “I don’t know what going on, but you gotta snap out of it! I don’t wanna have to hurt you!”
“Well neither do I Spyro, so just stand still and lose before you make me mad!”
The rainbow ceased to flow from the staff and, instead, three balls of black energy were shot up towards the ceiling. Each one flooded the room with waves of energy, blocked only by the intricate décor above, which Spyro took full advantage of. As the faun had foretold however, he couldn’t stand in one section too long as the beast above took to firing reflective bolts camouflaged by the shadows.
“Come on Spyro! Aren’t you tired of it all? Having to play the hero? Be everybody’s perfect little performer, always ready to drop everything to help their whiny little carcasses?”
“No! And I know you aren’t either!” Spyro was forced to charge into the darkness, which though not damaged, forced him to the ground as if a boulder had been glued to his back. Even through his exertion, Spyro still managed to call to his friend. “Gnasty’s staff is mess with ya dork! You gotta-“
“That’s MY WORD!”
The roaring Elora spun her staff like a fan, shooting bolt after bolt at the spinning black orbs, changing their color every second and sending the dragon hurtling towards every wall in the room.
“And don’t come at me about how ‘it’s the right thing to do.’ If anyone cared about that, then they wouldn’t even need us!” Spit and venom shot from Elora’s maw asshe watched the dragon get laid flat again and again, “They could look after themselves and we could actually have some fun for once!” She slammed the head of her staff against the floor. The shockwave shook the building, shattering the orbs above. An exasperated sigh was all that was felt of Elora’s anger as she watched the little dragon peel himself away, shaky, but still kicking.
“I don’t blame you Spyro. And I know you think you failed me, and it hurts.” Her eyes fluttered sensually as she puckered her lips. “Let me make it all better.” She cupped her hands to her face and blew kisses to the wounded hero; thick, green, mothlike kisses that fluttered about the dragon leaving lipstick marks everywhere they touched.
Battered as he was, Spyro hadn’t the strength to fight them off. Especially when he noticed his limbs going numb as the green gloss overtook his own purple hue.
“A bit more enjoyable than crystallization.” The victor lept from her perch and approached the stiffening dragon. “Suitable to the power of Gnasty Gnora, wouldn’t you say?” The two eyes met, and Gnora would have been disappointed to see anything but rebellion in the little dragon’s gaze. His wings and tail were now frozen, and the kisses were working their way up his neck.
“When…the Elders hear about this…”
“They couldn’t handle an oversized Gnorc, what chance could they have without you?” Gnora tucked a claw under Spyro’s chin and leaned in close. “Especially when we’ll both be ruling them all.” With the biggest, wettest kiss she ever made, Gnora sealed Spyro’s shell.
After marveling at watching her decoration struggle, the newly formed Gnaun tapped her staff in thought. “Then again, just two lovebirds going up against whole realms of existence would be pretty hard odds. Even for Spyro.” As Gnora stared at her reflection in the staff, a thought came to her. “But perhaps it won’t just be us…”
With a peck against the crystal hook of the staff, Gnora’s body glowed in a wheel of colors before five colored orbs shot from her chest. The orbs jittered about in the air before all turning a blinding white. When Gnora could see again, she was not too surprised to see five separate versions of herself standing before her. The last vestiges of the Elders’ spells faded away and the memories of Elora’s trip through the realms came back. The lazy sheep, the malicious ice fairy, the brazen thief, the infectious slime and the controlling puppet all bowed before their creator and true self.
“Girls,” Gnora declared, “I think it’s about time the Dragon Realms become known as Gnora’s Realms, what do you all think?” The copies all cheered in their own fashion, save for the sheep, who just yawned. “Very good. Now go and create your armies. Use whatever gems and magic you can get your paws on and sculpt these realms however you see fit.”
The Thief Elora snickered, “I’d rather hoard gems than transform personally, it lowers the value. But sure boss.”
“That’s what I like to hear, and to make sure you all have a fun time doing it…” In an instant, the semi-circle of Eloras were wrapped in chain lightning that vanished as quick as it appeared. In its place, beside each Elora stood a Spyro of their very own. The shortstack sheep nuzzled the purple ram beside her, two icy fairies danced about the room, the thief calculated the value of her golden statue, two slimes locked arms and lips and the puppet was already enjoying her new dragon-knight puppet.
“Have fun girls.” Each Elora saluted before vanishing into a portal for their respective realms, leaving Gnora along with her rocking gloss statue. “Speaking of fun, no way am I leaving you stuck in there, my little dork.” Gnora brought her staff to her lips, changing the gloss color from green to purple. The kiss she blew was enormous, swallowing Spyro more than it was kissing him. When it dissipated, it left a Spyro three times the size of the original, green kiss marks all over his scales to represent his allegiance to his queen.
“I don’t know…somethings missing…” Gnora pondered for a moment before she snapped her fingers, placing a set of square glasses on her new Spyro’s head. “Perfect.”
Her army preparing and her king reborn, Gnora turned her attention to her new home, ready to make some changes.
I want to thank everyone who has read and enjoyed this little series thing I've been making, I hope you've all enjoyed it in some form or another. But all good things must come to an end and so must this.
(I mean I might make a sequel series of some hero going through the newly ruled realms and facing the trials within, but thats only if I feel if I can because I did not expect it to take this long to make. Work and Anxiety, am I right?)
You all know the drill, it's KDTF...I mean the non-download section.
______________________________________________________________________
The metal slab disintegrated at Elora’s touch, giving the faun a full view into the treasure sanctum. It was just as Spyro had described it: a small, sad room with little than a TV, a couch, and a large portrait of Gnasty Gnorc himself, all of which were frosted with dust.
Spyro meanwhile had already rushed in and was stretching himself out in a sunbeam coming through the cracked ceiling. “You should have seen all this when I first stepped in. All that treasure Gnorc-Butt had stolen just sitting there, sad like him.”
“I bet.” Elora gave the sofa cushions a smack, evicting the dust before sitting down herself. She had to admit, it was pretty soft and didn’t feel like it had been sat on in ages. This was no doubt because Gnasty had all but vanished from the Dragon Realms and what followers he had were scattered to the winds. This had left Gnasty Gnexus, or 'The Dragon Junkyards’ as they were originally called, in a state of serene disrepair. Ever since Elora and Spyro had touched ground, it had been nothing but rusting metal, weapons in various states disassembly, and hordes of rats foraging the remains of an army.
Both had cared little for the scenery, but it was the last stop on Elora’s whirlwind tour of the Dragon Realms and there had been nothing to fear thanks to the DreamWeavers. Though Elora couldn’t remember what they did, both she and Spyro had been given clean bills of health and that was all they had needed to set their minds at ease.
The faun glanced to her sides as she shifted in her seat. “Hey Spyro…you think the TV still works?”
“Doubt it.” Spyro said through a yawn. “Most of the generators here look busted.” The dragonfly Sparx chimed in agreement before landing on his friend’s wingtip and closing his eyes.
The faun hopped over to the next cushion and shimmied about. She had become aware of a hard lump poking through the couch and was trying to determine where it was coming from.
“Well, I think I found the remote, so we’ll see.” The faun heaved the cushion off and eyed the contents. There were a few loose gems and buckets of lint and dust on the supports, and sitting at the bottom of it all was a large staff. It was identical to the one in Gnasty Gnorc’s portrait; a massive hammer-like mess. A strange thought came to the faun, a small familiar tickle that pushed her to grasp the ownerless staff. Despite it’s size and centerpiece, the faun heaved it like one would a stick.
“Did ya find the re…woah…” The little dragon turned wide eyed at the sight. The staff was unmistakable. It was also impossible. The last time Spyro had ever set eyes on the brute that owned it, it was when he had kicked him from his throne. Last the dragon knew, the green creatin had taken the staff with him.
For a moment, the two friends were silent, staring at the staff the faun was so easily wielding, then Elora started to laugh. She gave the best roar she could given her humor and tried to twirl the large pole about. “Beware Spyro; for I, Gnasty Gnorc, have returned!”
The purple dragon caught on and laughed along before painting a look of worry on himself. “Oh no! I thought I got rid of you!”
After a swing made slow enough for Spyro to dodge, Elora made her laughter turn dark. “That’s right Spyro, and I’m gonna make you pay for kicking my butt.” She swung again, knocking the forgotten TV over and losing her balance alongside it.
The retreating dragon wiggled his tail back and forth as he scurried away. “Gotta catch me first greeny!” His snickering echoed through the doorway and out into the smog-draped day. “Running was just all you were good for anyways!”
“Well I can’t help it if I’m a coward!” The faun picked herself up and followed her friend. “Can’t help being fat either, so slow down, will ya?” Manufactured gasps for air mingled with the clopping of hooves as Elora ran on, giggling as she imagined what her persona sounded like. It was an unfortunate thought that Elora missed the dragon taking down what sounded like a pathetic foe, it would have made a nice change from the terrors of Ripto or Hunter’s recounts of the Sorceress from the Forgotten Realms. To see such a small dragon take on something like the Gnorc in the portraits lining the walls must have been some sight.
The voice of Elora’s ‘target’ was enough to lead her through the divulging paths through the metal compound. “Awww, whats the matter? Would…umm..‘G-Lazy Gnorc’ be a better name for ya? Oh, that was pathetic, Sparx, what do you have?”
As the dragonfly’s buzzing now sounded through the halls, Elora slowed her pace. She had just come to another junction in the hallway. It sounded like both ways held her friends’ voices, though one was farther out than the other. She turned to the left corridor and more carefully made her way through. She had to spin her staff (it might as well be hers since it was unlikely Gnasty was coming back to claim it) in line with some of the ridges of the hall, but it seemed to work. Not once did she hear her targets’ conversation end.
The purple lights of the hall came to stop as the faun came upon a large area-type room. The faded scorch mark and thin stench similar to the treasure room betrayed another popular spot of the Genux’s former ruler. The faun found herself standing on a raised platform, with a particular dragon standing off at the far end of the room, unaware he had just been fooled. Elora couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore but took that as a sign they still didn’t hear her approach.
With a playful roar of “Revenge for the Gnorcs!”, Elora jumped from her perch and pointed her staff at the dragon. Spyro whirled around just in time to watch as emerald tip began to spark and sputter. Intinct told him to roll away, and it turned out to be the right call as a ball of dark green energy rocketed towards him. Neither dragon nor dragonfly were hit, but Elora found the wind knocked from her by the unplanned strike. The shot itself was not done with it’s mischef either, for it bounced off the wall and began ricocheting about with abandon. Spyro hadn’t time to call out before a particular angle sent the sphere of magic hurtling towards the dazed faun and couldn’t get there fast enough to stop it from striking her in the head. There was some part of Spyro’s mind that shivered at the sight of this, but the dragon couldn’t place where it was coming from. Elora didn’t seem to be turning to crystal, which was the most he ever saw Gnasty’s spells do, yet Spyro found himself pleading to the Great Elders that his friend was alright.
“Sheesh, that was a surprise.” There was no pain, no shortness of breath, nothing to indicate the faun was aware of what had happened. “Guess I should of expected a spare wand to have some magic in it. What’s wrong Spyro?”
Perhaps the dragon had been mistaken? He would have to keep an eye on her, but decided to play it cool. “I guess not, just making sure you didn’t hurt yourself…Gnora.”
It took a moment for Elora to process the joke, and then the two were laughing all over again. “Yeah, Gnasty Gnora. That’s a good one.”
What the momentary bout of worry over, the duo decided to leave the arena before they found anything else of dangerous worth. Despite that train of thought however, Elora did not discard the staff, but held it close as they went out into the greater Gnexus.
Neither she nor Spyro noticed a dark green flash in the faun’s eyes.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Perhaps it was only the sunset that gave the shipyard any sort of appeal, the vast shadows of the iron boats covering the busted crates and rats scurrying to and fro. That had to be it, Elora thought, that had to be why this Realm seemed so agreeable when she had despised it not too long ago. Of course, there was also the dragon beside her, sitting atop the welded stack of barrels overlooking the harbor.
The faun stroked her staff, imagining she was stroking his tail instead, or perhaps his head. Her brown fur was hiding a deep velvet blush at the thought of her precious dragon so close at hand. Ever since she had started this journey, all she had wanted was to be alone with her beloved hero. Then the blackouts began, and whatever actions the faun had taken during that time hardly mattered or counted. Ever since they had left Gnasty’s fortress, however, the urge for his attention had grown, festered even as the dragon seemed unaware.
The faun slid closer to Spyro. He still paid little mind.
“Spyro…I want to thank you for this little trip.”
“Well, I can’t really say there’s been a trip. I can barely remember anything that happened.”
“I know what you mean. Pretty sure those DreamWeavers took more out than they said.” Elora looked to Spyro’s paw amidst a green pulse.
“They were just doing their job. I’m sure they did what they had to.”
Elora grunted at the comment. “Yeah, their job. And meanwhile they have you to do yours.”
“Something up Elora?”
The faun hugged her staff tight to her chest. “It’s just…when was the last time you ever had time like this? Time to relax? Cause I can tell you, between keeping Avalar from burying its collective heads in the sand and keeping Hunter and the Professor from marching off a cliff, I don’t think I had one for a long time.”
The venom those words were laced with sent Spyro’s mind shivering again. “You must be doing a good job though.”
“Yeah, keeping everyone happy but myself.”
The dragon scratched at his perch, trying to keep the faun’s words from digging too deep at his psyche. He would be lying to both parties if he denied feeling just the same. Trying to make light of the situation, he gave a playful poke at Elora’s staff. “Maybe, I seem to recall someone snatching me from my vacation to deal with their problems.”
That seemed to lighten the faun’s mood, but not the grip she held on her staff. “Yeah, guess I got no right to complain. Still though.” She returned to her silent mood after speaking, and so did Spyro. Amidst an emerald sea, the faun’s eyes twitched back and forth between the dragon and her hooves, then to the harbor, then finally to the staff he held so tightly. With a deep breath, she made her decision. “You know Spyro, I have an idea…” The dragon perked his head up. Without thinking to, Elora’s staff shot a small spark at her lips, painting them in a grassy green hue. “Why don’t we pretend, just for the rest of the day, that we don’t have anything to worry about? No one in all the Realms to care for but ourselves? What would you do?”
Now both sets of claws were marking barrels, their owner stammering out a reply while fixed on the sudden plumpness of his friend’s lips.
She had her answer, and Elora took no time reciprocating it. She threw herself against the dragon and pursed her lips as tightly as she could so every inch of her lips caressed his cheek. Despite the reptilian features that suggested cold-blood, Spyro’s face was burning hot. The faun made sure to pull away as slow as she could, letting a sloppy pop escape her as she left a detailed kiss mark on the still-stammering dragon.
Up above, Sparx was ready to cheer for his friend. It was about time someone among them made their move and he knew Elora had no reason to fear a broken heart. He also knew however that Elora’s fur was brown and not the grassy green hue creeping across her face. The faun dove in for another kiss, leaving another mark on Spyro’s other cheek. Thin, veiny strands of green were already reaching across Elora’s ears and the dragonfly started to buzz and flash in alarm. His friend couldn’t be reached however as Elora shot for blood with a massive smooch right on his lips. Smoke billowed out the dragon’s nose from the internal heat and his eyes crisscrossed at what should have been a simple dream come true. Alongside this, Elora aimed her staff with her free hand and fired off. At such close range, Sparx had no hope to dodge the attack and a crystal dragonfly plummeted into the water.
When faun and dragon finally tore away from one another, Elora laughed at the dragon’s face. She had aimed her lips perfectly, Spyro’s mouth showing a pair of perfectly defined lip marks. “Oh wow Spyro, since when did you like lipstick?”
Unaware of Sparx’s fate, Spyro felt across his mouth and winced at the slick texture of the kiss mark. He was unable to voice his distaste, however. “Since you put it on.” His mouth betrayed him. The shock of it brought the dragon back to reality and so able to see the gnorcish pallor his friend’s head had embraced. The faun had flashed a smile as well, giving Spyro a full view of the fangs that had slid into her teeth.
“Why Spyro, you sure know how to flatter a faun, don’t you?” Without hesitation, Elora shot a bolt down at the dragon’s feet barked with a snap of her fingers, “Why don’t you kneel and do some more?”
Once more, Spyro’s body acted against his wishes, doing as he was ordered while his mouth flapped without his consideration or shame involved. “Everything about you is just perfect Elora, I fell in love with you from the day we met.” There was no filter to his thoughts, it was just straight from the brain to the world. It wasn’t that it was untrue, but it was just about the last way Spyro had ever wanted to let it be known.
The transforming Elora didn’t seem to care as she squealed at the proclamation. “I knew it! I knew it! Hunter and Moneybags told me it wasn’t true, but I showed them!” The faun was leaping for joy, shaking the tower of barrels as she did so. “I guess we should go somewhere a little more structurally sound, eh? Let me see if I…can…” She closed her eyes, letting a violet glow from the staff envelop her. With little more than a click, the pair found themselves on the deck of a barge. “Wow, this staff is awesome! Don’t you think Spyro?”
There was a moment’s pause before Spyro realized the spell over her mouth had been released. Evidentially, Elora didn’t have the grasp on magic she thought she did. A cursory wiggle of his toes confirmed it, but one look at his friend told him running was a good idea. In the light of the setting sun, Spyro could see the reflection off the faun’s leafy clothes as an metallic sheen glazed over it.
“Sure Elora, I bet you’re better than old Gnorc-Butt with it.”
There wasn’t a sign from the faun of her understanding Spyro’s gambit. Though she felt insulted, if only by her own amateurish mistake, she was more than prepared to play Spyro’s game. “True, quite true.” A green paw adorned with blue claw-like nails tapped her staff. “So how about a little round two?”
With another snap, Spyro found himself back in Gnasty’s arena, Elora on the balcony while he was stuck on the ground floor.
“How about you put up a real fight this time, dragon?”
Before Elora had even finished her proclamation, a series of multicolored bolts shot from her staff with machinegun speed. Ready as he was, Spyro dodged the initial fire, but found himself charging just to stay ahead.
“Elora!” Spyro roared over the magic bolts, “I don’t know what going on, but you gotta snap out of it! I don’t wanna have to hurt you!”
“Well neither do I Spyro, so just stand still and lose before you make me mad!”
The rainbow ceased to flow from the staff and, instead, three balls of black energy were shot up towards the ceiling. Each one flooded the room with waves of energy, blocked only by the intricate décor above, which Spyro took full advantage of. As the faun had foretold however, he couldn’t stand in one section too long as the beast above took to firing reflective bolts camouflaged by the shadows.
“Come on Spyro! Aren’t you tired of it all? Having to play the hero? Be everybody’s perfect little performer, always ready to drop everything to help their whiny little carcasses?”
“No! And I know you aren’t either!” Spyro was forced to charge into the darkness, which though not damaged, forced him to the ground as if a boulder had been glued to his back. Even through his exertion, Spyro still managed to call to his friend. “Gnasty’s staff is mess with ya dork! You gotta-“
“That’s MY WORD!”
The roaring Elora spun her staff like a fan, shooting bolt after bolt at the spinning black orbs, changing their color every second and sending the dragon hurtling towards every wall in the room.
“And don’t come at me about how ‘it’s the right thing to do.’ If anyone cared about that, then they wouldn’t even need us!” Spit and venom shot from Elora’s maw asshe watched the dragon get laid flat again and again, “They could look after themselves and we could actually have some fun for once!” She slammed the head of her staff against the floor. The shockwave shook the building, shattering the orbs above. An exasperated sigh was all that was felt of Elora’s anger as she watched the little dragon peel himself away, shaky, but still kicking.
“I don’t blame you Spyro. And I know you think you failed me, and it hurts.” Her eyes fluttered sensually as she puckered her lips. “Let me make it all better.” She cupped her hands to her face and blew kisses to the wounded hero; thick, green, mothlike kisses that fluttered about the dragon leaving lipstick marks everywhere they touched.
Battered as he was, Spyro hadn’t the strength to fight them off. Especially when he noticed his limbs going numb as the green gloss overtook his own purple hue.
“A bit more enjoyable than crystallization.” The victor lept from her perch and approached the stiffening dragon. “Suitable to the power of Gnasty Gnora, wouldn’t you say?” The two eyes met, and Gnora would have been disappointed to see anything but rebellion in the little dragon’s gaze. His wings and tail were now frozen, and the kisses were working their way up his neck.
“When…the Elders hear about this…”
“They couldn’t handle an oversized Gnorc, what chance could they have without you?” Gnora tucked a claw under Spyro’s chin and leaned in close. “Especially when we’ll both be ruling them all.” With the biggest, wettest kiss she ever made, Gnora sealed Spyro’s shell.
After marveling at watching her decoration struggle, the newly formed Gnaun tapped her staff in thought. “Then again, just two lovebirds going up against whole realms of existence would be pretty hard odds. Even for Spyro.” As Gnora stared at her reflection in the staff, a thought came to her. “But perhaps it won’t just be us…”
With a peck against the crystal hook of the staff, Gnora’s body glowed in a wheel of colors before five colored orbs shot from her chest. The orbs jittered about in the air before all turning a blinding white. When Gnora could see again, she was not too surprised to see five separate versions of herself standing before her. The last vestiges of the Elders’ spells faded away and the memories of Elora’s trip through the realms came back. The lazy sheep, the malicious ice fairy, the brazen thief, the infectious slime and the controlling puppet all bowed before their creator and true self.
“Girls,” Gnora declared, “I think it’s about time the Dragon Realms become known as Gnora’s Realms, what do you all think?” The copies all cheered in their own fashion, save for the sheep, who just yawned. “Very good. Now go and create your armies. Use whatever gems and magic you can get your paws on and sculpt these realms however you see fit.”
The Thief Elora snickered, “I’d rather hoard gems than transform personally, it lowers the value. But sure boss.”
“That’s what I like to hear, and to make sure you all have a fun time doing it…” In an instant, the semi-circle of Eloras were wrapped in chain lightning that vanished as quick as it appeared. In its place, beside each Elora stood a Spyro of their very own. The shortstack sheep nuzzled the purple ram beside her, two icy fairies danced about the room, the thief calculated the value of her golden statue, two slimes locked arms and lips and the puppet was already enjoying her new dragon-knight puppet.
“Have fun girls.” Each Elora saluted before vanishing into a portal for their respective realms, leaving Gnora along with her rocking gloss statue. “Speaking of fun, no way am I leaving you stuck in there, my little dork.” Gnora brought her staff to her lips, changing the gloss color from green to purple. The kiss she blew was enormous, swallowing Spyro more than it was kissing him. When it dissipated, it left a Spyro three times the size of the original, green kiss marks all over his scales to represent his allegiance to his queen.
“I don’t know…somethings missing…” Gnora pondered for a moment before she snapped her fingers, placing a set of square glasses on her new Spyro’s head. “Perfect.”
Her army preparing and her king reborn, Gnora turned her attention to her new home, ready to make some changes.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 50 x 50px
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