darkSpyro

Right, I've bottled it many times before but this one's here to stay. This is a story I write a while ago - I'd say in October, but the actual date evades me. By my very nature I deal in Spyro stuff the fic community does not usually give much focus to, which is why I've done a story about Hurricos. Fair play to Insomniac for creating a gloomy world that visually isn't that gloomy, though that may have something to do with PS1 graphics.

Bennett is an 'OC' (in massive quotation marks) but that's as far as my original ideas go. Elora's there because I'm an Elora fanboy, and she's a highly unexplored character which is a writer's delight. Anyway, enoguh rambling from me. Enjoy.

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Bennett stared out of the hotel window. It was raining. Nothing new there, and nothing new meant the same story for his business. He groaned and swivelled his chair back to his desk. Another rotten night, but that was to be expected as it never truly stopped raining in Hurricos. Dry days were just the sky catching its breath before another onslaught of the sodden hill that a few hundred electrolls had set up home on. Rain wasn't so much a weather condition here, more a way of life, which was why Bennett was regretting his career choice.


He drummed his fingers on the desk. What was he thinking, setting up a hotel here? Who in all honesty wanted to go on holiday to Hurricos? No one, but his teenage self had been blind to that. He'd grown up under the illusion that year-round poor weather, rusted machinery and a Geargrinder infestation problem were attractive, and as a consequence had used the money he'd saved from working multiple jobs to set up Hurricos' first hotel. It failed badly. On the first day there were no guests, and it was the same story on the second, third and fourth. The first customer came on the fifth, but only to get some change. Shocked and desperate he spent more money on advertising, and that didn't work either. That was three months ago, and in its first quarter of operation the hotel's fifty-eight rooms had housed a grand total of seven guests. The losses, of course, were astronomical.


He leafed through the many papers scattered across his desk until he found the bill, and yelped at the sight of it. Had it always been that much? He could have sworn it was less than that the last time he looked at it, but it didn't matter. The bill was real and it needed paying with money he didn't have. He looked at the calendar. Thirty days to pay it, or rather thirty days of operation left for this hotel unless he found a buyer, but that was impossible. He'd anticipated money issues and had put the hotel on the market a month ago, but no sane person would buy this place. The only other solution he could think of was to start another venture and use its profits to keep the hotel afloat, but that needed money too, so in essence there was no solution. He sighed. How he had fallen. The plucky entrepreneur he had been three months ago was now a bankrupt and very jaded one.


He felt his eyesight flicker, and he grunted. Great, his glasses were on the brink now. Feeling his way across the desk, he found the drawer and pulled out a leather box, flicking it open to reveal an elaborate set of glasses, ten retractable lenses clipped to each eye. The people of Hurricos had always had sight problems, usually so fierce that the pattern of one's sight changed almost daily, so Eye Tuners were just as vital as the thick lenses they wore day in, day out. He slid off his glasses and replaced them with the Tuner, pressing down on the first set of lenses. No good. He replaced the first with the second. Better, but not quite. He tried the fifth. Almost. Sixth. Nearly there. Seventh. He could see something. The ninth, and finally the world shot back into focus and let him see the person standing in front of him.
"Ah!" he screamed, gripping the wings of the Tuner to keep them from falling.
"Hello," the visitor said back, oblivious to the terror she had stirred in the electroll.
"Oh…erm…hello," Bennett said back, fingers still gripping the Tuner, "Erm…give me a minute to fix my glasses."


He slid the Tuner off his nose, thankful to be blind to the unexpected arrival, and felt for the Tuner's case. He pulled at its felt to reveal a second tier filled with ten pairs of brackets. One empty, nine filled with lenses that he could not see. Reaching for his glasses, he pushed out the lenses and placed them in the empty bracket, and retrieved a pair from a bracket marked with a raised number nine. With a fluid motion he pushed them into his glasses, a satisfied click ringing through the air, and placed his modified eyepiece back on his face. He could see his desk now, and as a consequence he could also see the rain-soaked torso of his visitor. He gulped. What did she want? She wasn't from round here, that was for certain – she had brown fur. No one here had brown fur, not least very wet brown fur. Brown fur that shook as she shivered. Bennett bit his lip. Was she a tax collector? Well, there was only one way to find out.
"Hello," Bennett said again, decidedly more nervous than before, "How can I help?"
"My friends and I would like a room, please."
Bennett's head shot up, and for the first time he saw not only the dishevelled face of the visitor but the two people stood behind her, also shivering against their wet bodies.
"Pardon?"
"My friends and I would like a room."
"A room?"
"Yeah…" her voice dropped, "Is there a problem? Are you fully booked?"
"Oh no…we're not," Bennett stammered, unable to comprehend what he was hearing, "It's just very few people come in her asking for those."
"In a hotel?"
"Well, we're not exactly in a prime location."
"Uh huh," she nodded, "So can we have a room?"
"How many would you like?"
The visitor turned to her colleagues for a moment, then turned back.
"One each?"
"Three rooms," Bennett said, his pupils morphing into the shape of gems. Money! Salvation! He licked his lips. Maybe there was life in this old shack after all! "That'll set you back one thousand two hundred gems, ma'am."
The visitor blinked at him, "Are you serious?"
"It is very difficult to operate a hotel in this area, ma'am, so I'm afraid we have to put our prices up a little in order to make this place profitable."
"But that's a joke!"
"Ma'am, this place is on the verge of bankruptcy. We'd like to keep the prices competitive but I'm afraid we have no choice."
"Fine," the visitor scowled, "Do you have any double rooms?"
"Several, ma'am."
"Well the boys can share. One double and one single, please."
"Seven-fifty gems, please."
"Are you kidding me?"
"I would never kid a customer, ma'am."
"Fine. One double and one of us can sleep on the floor."
"No can do, I'm afraid," Bennett said, tapping a certificate hung by the window, "This is a Health and Safety Certificate, and by having it it means we adhere to the rules laid down by the Government of Avalar. One of those rules is that we agree not to go over occupancy, so I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that."
The visitor scowled at him.
"That certificate is pretty much void, you know," she hissed.

Part 2

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"And why would that be, ma'am?"
"Because for a law to be ratified in Avalar it needs to be signed by the three diplomats of Summer Forest, Autumn Plains and Winter Tundra. These laws temporarily become void whenever a diplomat leaves office and have to be re-ratified by their successor. Avalar has recently undergone a change in personnel, and while the re-ratification is usually done in the space of minutes it will never get signed this time around. So that certificate is, in effect, useless."
"And how do you know a change of personnel in Avalar has occurred, ma'am?"
"Because up until a few hours ago I was the diplomat of Summer Forest."
Bennett frowned at her.
"What?"
"Yes. I was the diplomat of Summer Forest a few hours ago, but I'm not anymore, and do you know why?"
"Why, ma'am?" Bennett asked, fear creeping into his voice.
"Because those two over there concocted an experiment, one which went horribly wrong. It let this little guy in who's now deposed me and taken Summer Forest for his own, and that includes Hurricos."
Bennett strained his eyes at her, and he felt his mouth dry. He knew that face. It lacked the prim hairdo and quiet confidence that was usually present, but he knew it.
"Diplomat Elora!" he exclaimed, shrinking into his chair, "I'm so sorry! Let me fix you up right away…"
"At ease," she sighed, "I'm an ex-diplomat; I can't order you around anymore."
"Oh…okay then," Bennett squeaked. He fell silent, but his arms reached up to the certificate hanging on the wall, and with a twist of his wrists he tore it clean in two. "So, that double room you wanted?"
"You don't have to make concessions for me."
"I'm not. You said yourself that certificate is irrelevant now."
"So you believe me?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well…the story's a little farfetched."
"But is it true?"
"Yes."
"Then I believe you," he picked up a pen and scribbled into the guestbook at his fingertips, "Now can I have your signature here?" he handed the book and the pen to the visitor and pointed to a box on the page. She scribbled her signature down and handed it back. "Thank you," he whispered, and handed a single key to her.


There was a shuffling and a few murmured words of conversation, then the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but Bennett turned away before he could see it. He looked back out the window. Was it darker than it had been before? He pressed his head to the glass, letting its iciness sear his forehead. Suddenly the hotel's money problems seemed insignificant. Avalar lawless? Surely not. He hoped not – the Geargrinders were a problem as it was. Having them run rampant didn't bear thinking about. He sighed and turned back to his desk; the former diplomat was still there.
"Oh," he said, "Can I help?"
"Yeah, I haven't paid you. For the room, I mean."
"You can have it on the house. See it as emergency housing since you've…well, gone."
"With all due respect sir, I'm not leaving this desk until I pay you."
"Why not?"
"You said this place was struggling, and I don't want to contribute to that."
"I admire your charity, ma'am, but I'm afraid money is quite irrelevant to me now."
"Why? You seemed very keen to get some before."
"Well, since I've learned that Avalar is on the verge of meltdown I've had to reorder my priorities."
"Alright then." A small laugh escaped her lips, which gradually transformed into a sob, "I'm sorry," she whispered, shutting her eyes, "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Bennett sighed, "I was heading towards the scrapheap anyway. Once you've hit rock bottom being handed a shovel is meaningless."
"Yeah," the faun sniffled. She reached down to her side and pulled out a small sack, which she emptied onto the desk. Gems of all colour rolled before Bennett's eyes. "Take the lot," she said, "It's not like I need it anymore."
"Are you sure?" Bennett asked, "There's way more than the cost of one room here."
"It's fine by me," she smiled, pulling a tangle of dripping hair out of her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, and drifted off.


Bennett watched her clomp up the stairs, catching the sound of a sob as her hooves disappeared from sight. The noise distressed him, and he panicked. He pushed his chair backwards, sending him hurtling into the administrative office where a lone telephone stood. He picked it up, jabbing in a number and pushing the receiver to his ear. The sound of ringing burned his eardrum, then the line connected.
"Hello," he said, "I'd like to take my property off the market, as I'm afraid it's going to be very important to my survival in the near future."

That's my boyfriends name

Anyways, good job! Keep it up, I like the fact that you're writing about Classic Spyro rather than having one of the MILLIONS of Skylander fics on here.

Your boyfriend has an excellent name then.

Thank you. I have loads of other Classic Spyro stories on deviantArt, but I intend to post a few here every now and again. Only ones that I feel suit this website though - I don't want to start any ship wars or madness like that.