darkSpyro

Thought I'd post another of my stories here as from observation Classic Spyro doesn't play much of a role on this board. This one features Hunter and Elora, two characters I like very much. Comments are always appreciated.

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Part 1

Summer Forest was ideal for resting. The night air was warm but not sticky, accompanied by a breeze that refreshed but did not chill. Perfect for those who made their bed under the stars, but just as suitable for those who preferred a roof over their heads. The sweeping expanses of stone kept rooms cool and airy and guaranteed a good night's sleep. A sleep that appeared to be impenetrable, as no matter how loudly Hunter shouted at Elora's window she didn't stir.


“Elora! Hey, Elora! Wake up!” he screamed from the ground below. Her only response was to roll over, moving from comfort to an even deeper comfort. A thin smile stretched across her face as pleasant dreams filled her head. Secluded coastal resorts; the winding backstreets of ancient cities, lost in all of them without a soul in sight. Just her, abandoned in such beautiful places. She sank deeper into the blankets, thoroughly trapped in her dreams and deaf to the louder screams of the cheetah.
“Elora!” he roared, throat burning, but between the chirp of crickets and the lapping of the lake there was no sound of shuffling from above. “Oh, c'mon!” Hunter whined, “Elora! Wake up!” But his desperation was not enough to penetrate the soothing bubble that enveloped the faun. “Alright,” he groaned, reaching behind his back, “You're gonna go crazy, but it's your own fault.”


Elora was feeling the tide lap against her toes when the first arrow struck her wardrobe. A hollow crack splintered the night, shortly followed by the sound of tumbling clothes as their hangers broke, but all Elora heard was the splash of surf. A second arrow struck the back wall shortly after, hitting a picture frame and shattering the glass, but again the sound was lost to the pleasure of twisted cobbles leading down an Alpine village. Hunter couldn't help but admire the commotion he had created with just two shots, but it still wasn't having the desired effect, and that burned his patience down to the wick.
“Sorry, Elora,” he sighed, ramming his hand to the bottom of his quiver, “But I've got to wake you up somehow.”
His hand clamped around the small box hidden there, and with an almighty tug he freed it from the snagging points of the arrows. He held it up to the moonlight and opened it. The innards of the box were split in two; one side occupied by small strips of cloth, the other home to a handful of matches. He lifted a strip from the box and wound it round an arrowhead, then plucked out a match. He struck it against the coarse fur of his thigh and held the flame to the cloth. It ignited in a flash and quickly spread to give the arrow a burning head. Satisfied, he pulled the bow taut and took aim at Elora's window.
“Sorry,” he said, then fired.


The clatter of the arrow hitting her desk didn't wake her, but the noxious smell of burning paper did, though only because she was fairly certain that beaches didn't smell of ashes. She was slow to rise, opting not to sit up in order to enjoy the soft blankets for a while longer, but when she spotted the flicker of flames she was on her feet in an instant.
“Ah!” she screamed, fright locking her muscles, but as the fire encroached on a thick pile of books she forced herself to react. She grabbed the corner of the papers with her fingertips and pulled the pile onto the floor, then stamped on them for all she was worth. At first the only product was a stinging warmth on her hooves, but eventually the flames yielded to her weight and began to fade away, their height and spread diminishing until the last peak of yellow was gone with a hiss and a wisp of smoke.


Elora stood deathly still, breathing in the sickly scent as she panted away her shock. She placed her hands on the desk to steady herself, and as she looked amongst the ashes of burnt paper she spotted an arrow. Wooden; beech, perhaps, with a thin metal point as its end. Nothing unique about that, but she saw something familiar in the flight. A spectrum of brown and yellow feathers, growing progressively darker as they reached towards the arrowhead. She clicked her tongue as she tried to remember where she had seen that before, and when the memory came her face twisted in fury.
“Hunter!” she roared, striding over to the window and glaring to the ground below.
“Finally,” Hunter said, letting his bow rest at his side.
“What's the meaning of this?” she said, holding out the arrow.
“I was trying to wake you up.”
“What? You try to wake me up by setting my house on fire?” she hissed, “What if I hadn't woken up? I might have burned to death!”
“Which was why I tried other stuff before shooting a fire arrow at you.”
Elora glanced behind her for a moment, and when she turned back her eyes were fiercer than ever.
“Oh, you are so dead,” she said, “Do you know how much it costs to get those pictures printed?”
“Look, I'll pay for the damage, but before then there's something I need to show you.”
“What?”
“This.” He held up a torn envelope, behind which sat a neatly folded letter, “You'd better come and have a look, this is quite interesting.”
Elora initially didn't move, but while her fury still burned curiosity prevailed and she disappeared from the window.


Despite the stone walls the sharp clatter of Elora's hooves on the steps were audible to Hunter, as were her trudges through the grass as she stomped over to him and yanked the letter out of his hands.
“Alright then, what is this?” she said, pulling the letter taut.
“Letter that arrived earlier today.”
“Today? It's practically midnight.” The gears whirred in her head, “Is that owl on postal duty again?”
“I guess so.”
She shook her head.
“Honestly, they need to do something about him. He knocks everyone out of sync,” she looked at him, “Much like you, really.”
“Hey, the letter's urgent.”
“Well I bet it won't be that urgent.”
“Is that why you still have your nightshirt on?”
“Yes. I'm going to read this, quell whatever fears you have, then go back to bed.” She turned her eyes to the letter, and they widened. “This is addressed to me!” she exclaimed, “Hunter, have you been going through my mail?”
“Yeah,” he said casually.
“Oh, you are the absolute penultimate!” She placed her hand to her forehead, “What have you seen, exactly?”
“Oh, I only open the letters with the Crest of Avalar on.”
“The Government letters.”
“Yeah, freedom of information and all that.”
Elora breathed a sigh of relief, and mercifully Hunter didn't hear it.
“So anyway,” Hunter said, “Have a read of that and see what you think.”

Part 2

She rolled her eyes across the page, and though she didn't dare admit it Hunter was right. The letter was urgent, a desperate plea for an intervention from the higher powers of Colossos, but though it was clear something was wrong the letter didn't seem to specify what. She reread it a couple of times, hoping to pick up on something she had missed before that would shed some light, but she hadn't missed a word, and that forged a pit in her stomach.
“Hmm,” she said, folding the letter up, “It's quite vague, isn't it?”
“Yeah,” Hunter nodded, “I wonder why they won't say what's up.”
“I think I can guess. All the worlds in Summer Forest have their own leaders, but they all have to report what they're doing to me on a regular basis. If they're up to something I don't like I can overturn it, but I can't stop them from doing things I don't know about.”
“So you think this is something they've kept secret from you that's gone wrong?”
“Yep, and it's not the first time either. A few years back there was this big saga about Idol Springs building some giant interactive puzzles on the sly.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. Why did they do that?”
“I don't think they knew why they were doing it themselves,” she shrugged, “Anyway, I think this deserves a look in, but I don't trust them to give me the full truth if I arrange a date,” she looked across the lake to the Colossos portal, “Give me a sec, I'm going to turn the portals on.”


They made their way across the lake by boat and stepped through the portal together. There was a rush of air as it carried them along, a gust that grew colder with each passing second and tore at their faces with frozen teeth. Elora felt her eyes stream and she shielded her face with her hands, but that only succeeded in turning her fingers numb. She glanced across at Hunter. His face was resilient, but he couldn't hide the gentle jerks in his muscles as he staved off shivers. She shot him a comforting smile, but it was twisted out of proportion by the gale, and then evaporated completely as the portal spat them onto solid ground.
“Sheesh,” Hunter said, picking himself up off the ground, “Remind me never to go through a portal at night again.”
“It's Colossos, Hunter,” Elora said, wriggling life back into her fingers, “It's cold all the time here. Why do you think I brought a coat?”
“Well excuse me for not owning one.”
Elora rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I'm going to have a look around. Whenever they try and hide something it's always pretty big, so keep that in mind.”


They weaved their way around statues and stone rafters, shivering against a stiff breeze that battered them at random intervals. Hunter forged another burning arrow to act as a torch, but it illuminated their feet and nothing more. At their side a restless goat bleated and they hastily backed away, only to hear the grunt of an ox, a warm gust of air grazing their elbows. They surged forward, fleet-footed through the grass, and charged head-first into the side of a building, but as they heard the growing sound of galloping they shook off their concussion and felt for the door, escaping inside just as the clatter of horns on stone shattered the night.
“I don't get paid enough for this,” Elora whined as she felt along the wall for a lantern, “These idiots and their stupid plans, why can't they just be content with what I say? But no, always doing stuff behind my back!” Her hand brushed a solid object and she unhooked it from the wall, “Hunter, can you light a match?”
“Will you shut up if I do?”
She frowned, but he couldn't see her malice in the gloom.
“Fine,” she muttered, and Hunter struck a match. She took it from him and threw it into her lantern, and the room lit up in an explosion of red. Red tiles and red walls, mingling shades of crimson and scarlet and burgundy creating a bloody charm to the room.
“Sheesh,” Hunter said, his shoulders slouching a little, “They don't like welcoming stuff here, do they?”
“I know this room,” Hunter said, “I had a meeting in here once. Same conditions, too: at night and by torchlight. I think they were trying to intimidate me so that they could push through their ideas.”
“Did it work?”
“No. I'm young but I'm not stupid.” She glanced around, “If I remember rightly there's a staircase leading to the upper levels in here,” she took a step forward and the light went with her, “And there it is.” She pointed to a set of steps that led up to a slice of starry sky, then clambered up them.


Hunter hastily followed and joined her out in the night. He drew up alongside her as she surveyed the scene, but as he glanced at her face he did a double take. Gone was the steely caution she had worn since reading the letter, and in its place was a wry smile, something that decorated her face whenever she found herself in charge.
“And there we are,” she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
“What?” Hunter said, perplexed.
“See that building over there?”
“Which one?”
“The one with the blue and white pattern just below the brim of the roof.” She held out her lantern, and Hunter nodded.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“Take a good look. What do you think of it?”
“It looks nice.”
“In what way?”
“Well, it looks modern and well-kept and...”
“Well let me tell you something. I was here a month or so ago and I saw that building looking very different. It was run down; peeling paint and no door and everything, and all of a sudden it's been refurbished and has a very sturdy-looking door on the front. Coincidence?”
Hunter opened his mouth to answer, but Elora was away before he could. He took off after her again, finally reaching her as she surveyed the lock on the door.
“And a secure lock as well,” she said, grinning, “Nice try, boys, but you can't hide anything from me.”
“Elora, are you sure?”
“'Course I'm sure. Like I said it's not the first time.” She shook her head, “They all do the same. They hide it somewhere and try and make that somewhere blend in, but they commit the same sin everytime: they try too hard.” She reached to her crown and pulled out one of her hair pins, and in a fluid motion tugged it straight and fed it into the lock. She twisted it a couple of times, then the lock fell into her hand and the door creaked ajar.
“Did you seriously just do that?” a wide-eyed Hunter said.
“Yep. You don't get to be in charge without having a few talents under your belt.” She pushed the door open to reveal a wall of solid black, the scent of stale air slamming into her nostrils. She coughed it away and held the lantern to the room, but its dim flame could only light a small, insignificant area. She turned back to Hunter and nodded cautiously at him. He nodded back.


They crept in in a tight single-file, but split off again as the path widened. Elora followed the wall, turning her head between the wall and the dim space at the centre of the room.
“Hunter?” she whispered, her voice hushed for a reason she didn't understand, “See anything?”
“Nope,” the cheetah whispered back, the same edge restricting his volume.
“Are you scared?”
“No. Are you?”
“No,” she said, uncertain of the truth in her statement. She turned her attention back to the wall, examining the faded patterns, and as she glanced upon the scarred eye of an idol head she felt a breath down her neck.

Part 3

She froze, subconsciously lowering her lantern. Was it Hunter? It had to be. This was his idea of a joke, but as another warm breath drew goosebumps from her skin she felt reason for doubt. Hunter's breathing wasn't that loud, nor did it sound so hoarse, and a skinny cheetah like him didn't have the imposing presence she was feeling at her back. She felt her muscles lock, but was able to find enough strength to turn her head. First she saw mattered grey fur, stuck in clumps by bloodstains. Then a muscular chest, out of which sprouted thick arms and a neck. She turned her eyes upwards to see a head, one with blunt horns and razoresque teeth dripping with saliva, and in the centre of it all were two eyes. Red, bloodshot, and staring furiously at her. She jerked her head back around, and the air in the room suddenly became unbreathable. She blacked out for a split-second, swaying on her hooves and coming to just in time to spare a fall. She squeaked in fright, and that drew a growl from behind her.
“Elora?” Hunter said, “Was that you?”
Elora didn't answer. She didn't dare. If a squeak had made that thing growl what would talking do?
“Elora?” he said again, and the breathing on her back stopped. She glanced behind to see the thing had turned its attention away from her, scanning the darkness for the source of the voice.
“Elora?”
It took a step away from her, and Elora used the opportunity to take a step towards the door.
“Elora, are you there?”
It stepped out of the range of her lantern, and she took another step, cursing the clop of her hooves on the tiles.
“Seriously Elora, this isn't funny.”
She pulled herself through the doorway, feeling the stiff breeze against her skin, but reluctantly poked her head back through the door.
“Hunter, get out of there.”
“Why?”
“There's something else in there.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“What is it?”
“I don't know, but it doesn't look friendly so I'd get out before it gets near you.”
She held the lantern inside the room and saw Hunter stood not too far away. She beckoned for him to move, but as he took a step her pupils shrank. “Hunter,” she said, “Don't make any sudden movements.”
Hunter stopped, and while he didn't flinch she noticed a tremble in his jaw.
“Can I shoot it?” he whispered.
“I can't tell, but you've only got one shot.”
The thing growled, and this time Hunter couldn't stop his tremors.
“Is it big?”
“Taller than you,” Elora whispered. Hunter shuffled forward a little further, and the thing growled louder.
“Elora?”
“Yeah?”
“How far behind me is it?”
“Not far.”
Hunter bit his lip.
“I'm going to run.”
“Hunter, don't.”
“I'm going to.”
“Please...”
“I don't care what you think, just be ready to slam the door the second I'm through it.”
Elora raised her eyebrows, but she held her peace.
“Alright?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He took a breath to steady himself. “Now.”


He ran, and with a piercing scream the thing ran after him. It was only a short sprint, but for Elora the world had ground to a halt. She counted the milliseconds comfortably, but as she watched Hunter pounce on the doorway and fall as his bow snagged on the narrow frame time accelerated again. In an instinct she grabbed his arm and dragged him through the door, kicking it shut as the thing charged ever closer. It slammed against the door moments later, the solid wood bulging against its weight, but before it could splinter the wood further Elora grabbed the padlock and clicked it back onto the door. The thing barged the door again soon after, but it didn't stretch half as far as it did before. It let out a furious whine of despair, and then the world was silent.


Elora helped Hunter to his feet, straightening the quiver on his back.
“You alright?” she asked.
“I've been better,” Hunter said, looking anywhere but at her face, “What the hell was that?”
“I think it was a yeti, but I don't know and I don't care. I'm not in any place to think about it or why they're trying to hide it from me; I just want to go back to bed and forget any of this ever happened.”
“Same,” Hunter nodded, “Shall we go?”
Elora didn't reply, but the brisk strides she took spoke on her behalf.


They went back through the portal. Back through the rushing wind, this time warm air pulling their faces taut, and back across the lake in the coracle that had waited patiently for them throughout. They went back to the ridge of grass under Elora's window and bid one another a reserved farewell. Then Elora went up the stairs. One, two, three sets of spirals, winding their way back towards her bedroom. Then she changed back into her nightshirt and fell back into bed. She pulled the blankets over her and settled back down to sleep, but though Summer Forest was ideal for resting, though the night air was warm but not sticky, though the buildings were designed around the warmest season, the sweeping expanses of stone kept rooms cool and airy, Elora knew there was absolutely no chance of a good night's sleep.

This is good.

Quote: miniquiny999

This is good.

Thanks.

This is a very nice story (so far), and it's good to see a classic Spyro fic on here :)

Keep it up!

Thank you.

I'm afraid there's no more to this story than what you've already seen, but I have plenty more Classic Spyro stories in my backlog and on other websites. I might post another one here at a later date.