Chapter 21: A New Beginning Pt.1

(Thumbnail image does not belong to me. Sourced from Spyro Wiki)

Spyro spent a few moments taking in the sight of the little village as several more faces appeared from inside many of the huts, peeking out at the commotion caused by his arrival. Surrounding the village was a high wall of earth and thick roots, the top of which the great orange mushrooms continued to grow. On the other side of the water was a dirt track that gradually rose around the edge of the central village, curving around along the top of the wall of roots. Along its path he saw more of the dragonfly huts hanging from the mushrooms and roots that sprouted along the edge, finishing high above the rest of the village. Flash and Nina beckoned him to move onward, the purple dragon taking the last few steps before hopping down the short drop into the murky water, which it turned out was only just deep enough to submerge his paws.


“What are we doing bringing him here? He could be dangerous!” a critical voice from the village cried.


“He is our guest and is poorly. We must help him!” argued another.


“He is an outsider!” shot back another.


“He’s only a child! We cannot turn him away!” said back yet another. Spyro tried his best to avoid eye contact with those of either persuasion as his feet became steeped in sloppy mud. The water flowed along beneath him off to his right, the sound of crashing water drawing his eyes to the left where he saw that the expanse of water was not quite a full circle after all. Off to his left a short distance was a narrow passage hidden from outside view by the towering wall of roots and earth where a waterfall slowly washed down from above and into the clearing. Following the flow, Spyro saw that the water washed through the village and on into another passage that was only visible now between the high roots and earth. As he neared the towers of the dragonfly village, he saw the water beginning to rush faster as it flowed on some way out from the village and, presumably he expected, down another fall that was just beyond his view.


“Guess that’s why you call it Dragonfly Falls, huh?” he asked his escort as they passed under the first of the huts hanging down from the mushroom’s stalks.


“We call ‘em like we see ‘em around here,” Sparx said bluntly.


“Yeah, I noticed,” Spyro replied with a short laugh as he looked up cautiously to his right at a small gathering of dragonflies around Firmin who had finally stopped arguing and where hovering back away from the purple dragon, eyed fixed judgingly on him. Looking up to his left, he saw another gathering of the dragonflies who had been speaking in his favor keeping their distance from the other group. It seemed his presence had nearly split the village down the middle as he slowly walked amongst the mushrooms towers and the huts that hung from them.


“So, what are we doing here?” Spyro asked as he gazed around almost sleepily at the various huts and towers that surrounded him.


“We just want you to wait here while we get someone who can help you,” explained Flash as he and Nina hovered around in front of him, “Sparx, you wait here with Spyro until we get back.”


“Sure thing, Pop,” the yellow dragonfly nodded as his parents turned away and left, Spyro sighing as he sat his haunches down in the mud, too preoccupied by the soreness in his body to care.


“Just hang in there, bud. They’ll be back,” Sparx reassured him.


“You sure bringing me here was a good idea?” Spyro asked bitterly, casting his eyes back over to the dragonfly mob that were still burrowing their eyes menacingly into his very existence.


“Hey, not everyone is like that. Look, here comes the welcoming party,” Sparx pointed to Spyro’s left as the other gathering of dragonflies began to slowly approach them, speaking in hushed tones among themselves as they approached the purple dragon and his golden companion.


“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you!” shouted a member of Red’s mob, “You don’t know what he might be capable of!”


“That’s enough!” Red said irritably, “I don’t like this anymore than you, but I have to at least give him a chance to prove that he is trustworthy.”


“And what is that’s one chance too many?” argued another.


“Enough I said!” Red barked. Spyro shook his head sadly as he heard the fluttering of the other group of dragonflies as they cautiously approached from his left side. Looking towards them, Spyro looked through his puffy eyes at an assortment of multicolored faces all staring at him in wide eyed wonder. He was somewhat aware of how unkept he looked, covered in dirt and sitting in mud while barely having the strength to keep his head up. But these factors didn’t seem to dissuade the gathering of dragonflies as they edged closer and closer to him. Spyro judged that many of them were younger like Sparx, with their being fewer adults compared to Red’s hate mob off to his right.


“Hi there,” Spyro greeted weakly, the dragonflies all came to a hard stop as they hovered in place, seemingly in shock at the fact that he could speak. Sparx suddenly drifted around before them and put his hand up, “Alright, people, that’s close enough. Spyro’s not feeling on top of the game right now.”


“Is that his name?” asked a green male dragonfly seemingly around Sparx’s age, “He’s gigantic!”


“Mama, is he gonna’ eat us?” innocently asked a small pink female dragonfly being held close by her orange dragonfly mother.


“He’s not going to eat anybody,” Sparx declared promptly, “Trust me, I thought the same thing the first time I saw him. I looked at that big belly of his and thought, ‘Oh crap, he’s going to eat me!’ But trust me, he’s….”


“Did you just call me fat?” Spyro asked with an annoyed scowl, prompting a collective, humorous gasp of ‘Ohhhhh’ from the gathering of dragonflies.


Sparx turned around and put his hand thoughtfully under his chin as he replied, “Well, if we’re being honest…”


“Don’t make him mad!” said another youthful voice originating from a brown male dragonfly, “He might change his mind about eating us!”


“I don’t eat bugs,” Spyro said as he shook his head, forcing enough of a smile to show he was sincere and not offended, “But to tell you the truth, I could really use something to eat.”


“Sure thing, buddy, no problem,” Sparx assured him before turning back to the gathering, “Hey guys, could you get some fruit for my buddy, here? Spyro hasn’t eaten anything today.”


Much to the purple dragon’s surprise, most of the assembled dragonflies did just that and flew off to find fruit, presumably the same he had eaten the night before. While in truth he craved something with meat, Spyro was prepared to eat whatever they had to offer him, even if it was just fruit. A few of the adult dragonflies and their offspring stayed behind, fascinated but wary of him, until one of the adults started to drift over towards him. She was a dark ocean blue with a turquoise chest and abdomen, Spyro watching her curiously as she came over with an apologetic expression.


“Hello there, my name is Talia,” she greeted him softly as she moved nearer to his face, Sparx making room for her though he remained close by, “I’m sorry for what Firmin said. Not everyone here believes you are dangerous.”


Spyro sighed mildly, “It’s okay, Talia, thank you. It doesn’t bother me too much. I just hope I can assure everyone that I don’t mean any harm.”


Talia smiled, “If what we’ve heard about what you and Sparx went through is true, then I don’t believe you do,” she said as the other dragonflies began to return, nearly all of them either carrying one fruit each or sharing the load between one or more. The purple dragon’s eyes bulged as he beheld more than a dozen of the fruits being presented to him.


“Here you are Mr dragon… I mean, Mr Spyro, sir,” one of the younger dragonflies said meekly as he and his friend moved ahead of the crowd, “We hope this is enough for you. We don’t know how much you eat.”


Spyro could not help but smirk at the sincereness of their voices, their sullen faces selling the point that they feared they would disappoint their new visitor. They reminded him of the mole pups he had entertained in Warfang before the worst came to pass.


“I’m just Spyro, guys, no need to call me ‘sir’,” he said warmly, “And thank you so much.”


The faces on the little dragonflies lit up as they looked to each other in glee, as did the others as they all began to shuffle forward, trying to present the fruit they had bought before any of the others could. They all squeezed together in the attempt, pushing Sparx out of the way as he tried to intervene.


“Settle down! Settle down!” Talia called as she and the other nearby adults tried to control the stampede, Spyro backing up a few steps as the youngsters tried to swarm him in their excitement.


“Easy, guys, one at a time!” he pleaded, managing to keep his cool despite how poorly he felt. He heard more rumblings of disapproval from the other group of dragonflies, but decided against looking at them as the ones in front of him began to settle down. Sitting down once more in the mud, Spyro smiled faintly at the two closest dragonflies and the fruit they carried, beckoning them to come forward as he lifted his right paw. The pair placed it carefully in his grasp before the young dragon took a bite from it, relishing the taste as his stomach grumbled in relief that was finally getting sustenance.


“Okay,” Sparx announced formally, “You guys want to feed the dragon? Lets form a line and do it orderly, okay?”


Spyro raised his eyebrows as Sparx spoke of him like he was a zoo exhibit, but as instructed the other dragonflies formed a line and waited patiently for their chance to present their food to the purple dragon. Sparx looked over his shoulder and gave him a thumbs up, looking forward before Spyro had a chance to give a reply. Although he was hungry, he did not think he would be able to eat everything they had bought him, and there was nowhere nearby to put the fruit except down in the murky water and mud. Spyro suspected Red and his cohorts would not take kindly if he was seen to be wasting food, but neither would they want to see him gorging himself. It seemed it was yet another no win situation that the purple dragon found himself in.

As he finished off the last of the fruit, eating it skin, leaves and all to not appear wasteful, a green adolescent dragonfly like Sparx hovered up with the next offering even though Spyro still had a full mouth.


“No!” a voice suddenly rasped behind him, nearly making Spyro jump as a similarly green adult dragonfly swung into view and grabbed the younger one by the arm, “You’re not a servant! You’re not going to feed this outsider!”


“But father…” the young dragonfly begged, but without remorse his father pulled him away, causing him to drop the fruit he was holding into the mud as he was spirited away harshly. Spyro, with his mouth full, could not offer any legible protest as he and the other dragonflies looked on in shock. The green dragonfly took his son with him over to Red’s gathering as they remained stern faced and steely eyed at Spyro’s presence. The purple dragon swallowed the fruit slowly, though his appetite had just been spoiled by the sudden interruption.


“Sorry about that,” Sparx sighed regrettably, “Some of us are a little tense, today.”


“I think I can see why you don’t have company here often,” Spyro replied with bitter sarcasm. The other fruit bearing dragonflies now seemed unsure of themselves as they looked between him and the mob of their fellow villagers who glared at them.


“We are happy for you to be here, Spyro,” Talia said kindly, “Of course, it is a great novelty for us too. Here, we are completely cut off from the outside world. We’re not used to visitors, especially dragons.”


“That might be for the best,” he replied tersely. Talia frowned at him in confusion,


“What do you mean?”


Spyro shook his head, “Never mind,” he said blandly. Before she or anyone else could press him further, Flash and Nina reappeared around the side of the mushroom tower, accompanied by another new face. Alongside them was an adult dragonfly who was colored a dark tan yellow with hazel-colored eyes while his chest and abdomen were a flat green. Compared to the other adult dragonflies he had seen, Spyro couldn’t help but notice his curiously shaped head. It rose to a tall cone like shape with a rounded tip not unlike an egg with a broad forehead above his eyes. The dragonfly reached up and rubbed the side of his tall head ponderingly as he considered the sickly purple dragon.


“Spyro, this is our village physician, Jurien,” Flash introduced casually, “He’s going to help make you better.”


“I hope so,” Spyro replied with mild cynicism which did not seem to bother the eggheaded dragonfly. His hazel eyes scanned over him oddly, Jurien evidently not used to dealing patients quite in the likes of Spyro.


“Ah, I must say,” Jurien spoke in an unusually coarse but cheerful accent, “I have never treated a dragon before, but I am responsible for treating every in zis village. Which means, I am responsible for you, mein friend.”


“Uh, sure,” Spyro replied uneasily before he remembered his manners and decided to introduce himself, “I’m Spyro, Mr Jurien. I hope you can help me.”


“Don’t worry, Spyro,” added Sparx, “The doc here has never lost a patient yet. You should have seen me when I had swamp water fever. My life was flashing right before my eyes…”


“Ja, ja,” Jurien interrupted impatiently, hovering down towards Spyro, “Let me have a look at you.”


Before Spyro had a chance to either agree or disagree, Jurien moved swiftly up to him, the fingers on his tiny hands quivering with intrigue as he slapped his palms on either side of Spyro’s snout. Freezing on contact, the purple dragon’s eyes shrank as they focused in on the eggheaded dragonfly physician. Jurien leaned in and eyed him closely, then quick as a flash he moved to beside Spyro’s right cheek, grasping the young dragons eyelids and yanking them open rather suddenly, staring into his eyeball for a few painful seconds before snapping his eyelids closed like a window drape and zipping around to his left side to repeat the process. For his part, the purple dragon remained as still as he could while he trusted that the dragonfly was a knowledgeable physician and not a quack. How he wished Meadow could be here with his basket of herbs and seemingly infinite knowledge about natural medicine.


Jurien hummed and groaned thoughtfully the entire time as though he were humming along to a song playing in his mind as he zipped about looking over Spyro’s whole body; the bruises and scratches of the last few days, the painful spot on his neck and the limp in his left foreleg. At one point he zipped around and pulled open the young dragon’s gums, Spyro seeing Jurien’s eyes bulge as he looked at the size of his teeth in comparison to his own. Sparx and his parents remained silent the whole time as they waited for their trusted physician’s prognosis. After another extended song of humming and mumbling, Jurien zipped back around before Spyro’s face, the purple dragon fearful of what part of him he was going prod or pull next.


“Young Sparx’s mother and father told me of zey treatment zey gave you,” Jurien said as he put his hands on his hips, “It was the best zey could do, but it has not succeeded in killing za poison zat has infected you. I believe all ze exertion of your escapades last night only served to make it verse.”


“Verse?” Spyro repeated, not realizing that Jurien was pronouncing ‘worse’ in his odd accent.


“Do not try to mock me,” the dragonfly scolded, himself not realizing the poor dragon’s innocent mistake, “But lucky for you I took an oath to heal others, or else I might take your insolence to heart.”


“Insolence?” Spyro asked cluelessly, too weary to challenge the dragonfly any further than had he been healthy. Flash saw the misunderstanding and rose his hand to speak on his behalf but was cut off by an oblivious Jurien.


“I know ze proper remedy that will neutralize ze poison und drive it from your body. However, it will take me half an hour or so before it is ready. We will also have to do something about your leg. In ze meantime, I suggest you wash yourself off with water; it will give some relief and perhaps put some spark in you, eh?”


“Okay,” Spyro agreed uneasily. With that, Jurien turned and flew off around the tower to start work on his alleged remedy as Sparx moved over and patted his companion on the shoulder.


“You’re in good hands, pal. You’ll be right as rain soon!” he grinned brightly.


“Indeed, Spyro,” Flash said as he and Nina drifted over nearer, “But you’d better do what he recommends. The waterfall is a good place to clean yourself up. Come, we’ll take you there.”


“No,” Spyro said abruptly, clearly taking all the dragonflies by surprise at the gruffness of his tone. Seeing the faces of Sparx and his parents, he cleared his throat and said plainly, “I mean, I’ll be fine to go myself, thanks.”


Avoiding their eyes, as well of those of the crowd still clutching their fruits, Spyro started stepping across the muddy water towards the waterfall, sternly moving as fast as his limp and the mud allowed as he felt the dozen or more eyes piecing him from behind. Watching the young green dragonfly be whisked away but his distrusting father had cut him deeply, even though he knew a great many of the villagers distrusted him. He knew he should have been prepared for it, but perhaps he was simply feeling more vulnerable with all the harsh words said about him by Firmin, among everything else he had been through.


Approaching the waterfall, Spyro drew a breath in preparation to feel the cold water spilling over him, knowing he needed it even without the advice of Jurien. He looked up at the top of the fall as if flowed at a much more leisurely pace compared to those in Avalar, the water breaking up over a series of jutting rocks and roots that disturbed the flow as if dropped down into the wide, shallow pond of the village. He wondered if the dragonflies had built a dam or in some other way engineered the flow of water so as not to flood their village, or perhaps the river was this naturally slow. He stopped just before the sheet of water and looked back over his shoulder, seeing that most of the dragonflies had dispersed and were going about their usual activities, with only Sparx’s family along with Red and few of his crowd still keeping an eye on him.


Sighing, the purple dragon stepped into the falling water, halting as he let it drench his head and eyes first, cooling off his burning brain before he opened his maw wide and gulped down several mouthfuls. Keeping his eyes closed, he inched forward and ducked his head low, letting the water fall right onto the poisoned spot on his neck, liking to think it would wash the poison away and relieve him, though he knew it wouldn’t. He liked also to think that the waterfall would somehow wash away the grime that had built up in his soul the last few days, somehow reversing everything that had happened so that when he opened his eyes he would be back in Avalar, playing under the waterfall with his friends. But, alas, he knew that it wouldn’t.


Spyro opened his eyes and sat down as he tried wiping off what grime he could with his right paw, shaking his head as water collected on top of it. He straightened his tail out behind him like a Meerkat for support as he sat up on his haunches, rubbing his underbelly and twisting his head around.


“Maybe being here isn’t the best idea,” he said to himself ruefully, “They seem pretty split about it. I don’t need to make anymore enemies.”


A distant rumble of thunder seemed to give a reply to his thoughts, Spyro looking up at the sky uncaringly as he usually did whenever he heard thunder. The sky was a bright blue, not a sign of clouds as far as he could see. As he heard another ruble, he assumed the clouds were merely off in the distance and would eventually drift over the village. He rather cynically wondered if perhaps his mood was affecting the weather, perhaps an unknown power he had along with the others he had to keep secret.


When next he heard the thunder, it seemed to come sooner than before and he felt a light vibration in the ground, making him pause as he turned his ears away from the water to hear better. The rumble came again; and again and again, louder and closer each time and in a regular pattern that didn’t sound like thunder. Spyro felt the ground shudder more violently as the calm water of the pond began to ripple with each loud thud.


“What’s that sound?” he heard more than one voice ask behind him, looking over his shoulder and seeing the village had come to a standstill, all the dragonflies looking in the direction of the approaching sound which was soon added to by the sounds of trampled undergrowth and crushed vegetation. Most concerning to Spyro, though, was that the noise that was now shaking the ground was coming from his direction!


There was a sudden chorus of screams from the village as something came crashing through the forest high atop the waterfall, Spyro moving back out of the falling stream and looking up as he saw the tall mushrooms toppling over or sway like wheat as the source of the supposed thunder came into view. A hulking mass of sentient lumber stood atop the waterfall and pounded its chest like it had before, leaning forward and bellowing out across the village as its glowing purple eyes glared menacingly at anyone and anything that dared stare back at it.


“It’s Arborick!” Firmin shouted as the monster bellowed and sent the village into panic, “Everyone get away! Get away!”


Spyro was planted where he was, staring up in horror at the giant golem he thought they had escaped from, which he now knew had a name. Arborick snarled before he leapt from the waterfall and slammed down into pond, water and mud splashing out from his feet as the terrified dragonflies scattered in every direction. The monster clenched his fists and gazed over the little down before him, apparently having not seen Spyro sitting at the base of the waterfall but this was little comfort as the purple dragon gasped in terror at the fact he had lost sight of Sparx and his parents. He very nearly called out their names on impulse but Spyro narrowly kept his mouth shut, realizing he had a chance to catch Arborick unawares from behind.


“Spyro! Help us!” he heard Sparx shout all of a sudden, sinking his heart as the monster took note of where he was shouting to, Arborick looking behind him and growling as he sighted the purple dragon.


“Sparx!” Spyro shouted back, somewhat relieved to hear him, but furious that he had drawn the monster straight to him. From somewhere behind the golem, he heard Sparx’s apologetic shout of, “Whoops! Sorry!”


The giant log monster turned its whole body around to face Spyro, its face singed by the fire he had used to escape when he had been in the creature’s splintery grasp. Arborick’s jagged mouth opened menacingly as its glowing eyes formed a frightening scowl. If he had to guess, Spyro presumed that Arborick was not used to his desired prey eluding him, much less leaving such a mark on him. The wooden golem, it seemed, was here to claim what he felt he had been cheated out of; Spyro.


“This isn’t good,” the purple dragon remarked dryly just before Arborick snarled and charged towards him, his splintery hands soaring towards him. Spyro exclaimed as the monster filled his vision, jumping up and spreading his wings as Arborick closed in. Spyro flew barely above the waterline, bracing himself tight as he flew straight under and between the monster’s legs as its fists crashed down into the mud where he had been moments before. He caught a desperate breath as he saw numerous dragonflies zooming in every direction, panicking and confused at the golem that had invaded their home, but saw no sign of Sparx and his parents.


“Sparx? Sparx?” he called as he swept around the tree he had last seen them and hovered in place, finding several other dragonflies hiding and shivering there but not those he was looking for. By this time, Arborick had turned around and let out another bellow of rage that he had been outdone by the purple dragon yet again. Spyro gasped and his pupils shrank as the hulking behemoth came stomping towards him, splashing mud and water as his feet walloped the ground.


“How did he find me?” Spyro asked himself despairingly, looking at the hiding dragonflies as though they might have an answer.


“He’s after you?” someone said in reply.


“Get away from us!” shrieked another female dragonfly. Arborick growled as he ragefully kicked his left foot across the ground, sending a shower of mud and water across through the air, Spyro ducking down behind the mushroom tower with the dragonflies even as they protested his presence. A gargled scream suddenly caught his ears as Spyro peeked around towards Arborick who now stomped towards them. Ahead of the monster’s great feet, Spyro made out an orange glow from within the disturbed mud, the orange glow of a dragonfly that had been caught in the mud splash and was reaching out desperately for help.


“Help! Help!” called the terrified female voice as she struggled to keep herself afloat, the massive golem on course to crush her beneath its feet. Spyro gasped, and with barely another breath, he took off, fighting through the pain and poison that made him feel he weighed twice as much he did. Arborick roared as the dragon soared towards him, his great left foot either unknowingly or carelessly about to crash down on the helpless orange dragonfly below. She screamed as the foot’s shadow blotted out all else, Spyro holding his breath as he swept in towards her, his vision narrowing to only her terror strewn face as he upturned his paw and swept her up from the mud, Arbrorick’s tree stump foot slamming down and nearly taking Spyro’s tail off in the process as he sped through. He pulled up into a climb, the she-dragonfly wailing as the monster swiped his hand at them only a moment too late.


“Hang on!” Spyro cried as he banked around sharply to the right and flew towards the rising pathway where there were more dragonfly huts. He saw several terrified faces peek up from their windows before ducking back down as Spyro flew by and Arborick’s feet trampled heavily behind. Too focused to look back, Spyro surged to the end of the row of huts along the high ledge and carefully placed the frantic she-dragonfly on the ground as he landed.


“You okay?” he asked hastily. The dragonfly had mud over most of her body and wings, which she quickly fluttered in an effort to clean them while wiping off her face. Her eyes shined a bright yellow and were as wide as the giant mushrooms heads as she gazed up at the concerned purple dragon.


“That thing…you…he…” she blabbered frightfully, holding her hand over her chest as she breathed frantically.


Spyro juts shook his head and said, “Never mind that now! Find somewhere to hide! Go!”


The she dragonfly hurriedly jumped up into a hover and flew into the nearby bushes, Spyro watching her go as the ground started shaking as a guttural snarl filled his ears. Spyro turned his head to the right just as a pair of massive hands clamped down onto the ledge in front of him, letting out a frightful yelp as Arborick’s head rose into view, his hinge like mouth opening up to him as he growled. The monster was moments from pulling himself up the ledge to fight him, Spyro knowing in his heart he had no chance of defeating the golem with teeth and claws alone. He knew what he had to do, even if it ousted him as a liar to the dragonflies. That was still better than being dead, and what would happen to the dragonflies if he did not stop him?

As Spyro turned to face the golem, Arborick’s right hand rose up and swiped at him, Spyro jumping into the air with his wings as the monster’s arm swept by underneath him. With a sharp breath, he dove forwards with electrically charged speed straight at the monster’s face, taking him by surprise as the purple dragon drove his horns at Arborick’s forehead, knocking him back from the ledge. Spyro cartwheeled over the golems head but dug his claws into it to stop himself overshooting as the creature reeled back, dazed from the blow. Spyro caught a brief glimpse of the wide eyed dragonflies on the ledge watching what he had done, but he couldn’t dwell on it as Arborick began shaking his head in an effort to throw him off, Spyro digging in every claw he could to keep his grip. He then jumped up as the golem tried swiping him off with his hands, the purple dragon soaring up before looking down at the snarling face, drawing a breath as his mouth began to glow orange, Spyro casting a ball of fire down upon the creature.


Arborick reacted with surprising speed, his great hands shielding his face as the fireball erupted upon them, the golem howling in pain as fire consumed his hands. Spyro quickly dived down, spitting more fireballs as he did, each one striking the monster’s back and shoulders as it stumbled back, flailing its arms around as it tried to extinguish itself, Spyro fearing it would fall back and crush much of the village under its body. He pulled up and zoomed by behind the monster as it stumbled and howled, Spyro hovering and putting himself between it and the village in the hope he could stop it going further. Arborick suddenly crouched down, beating his hands down into the murky water in an effort to extinguish them, barely managing as he then did something unexpected. The monster’s upper body began to rapidly spin anticlockwise, its log like midsection allowing it to spin as the fire that Spyro had lit on its back began to die out, or worse, began shooting off its body in fireballs of its own, falling amongst the forest and village!


“What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief as the monster, now fully extinguished, rose up again and turned to face him, Arborick pounding his chest yet again as if in jest to Spyro’s attempts to stop him.


“Fire! Fire!” came a panicked scream from among the dragonflies as several fires quickly took hold in the surrounding forest, some landing close to the huts upon the ledge where Spyro had been while others had fallen and gone out in the water. His heart began to thump with the fierceness of a hailstorm as Arborick began marching towards him as Spyro’s own fire now became a threat.


‘I can’t use fire again, not so close to the village,’ he thought dismally, watching the flames beginning to rise amongst his surroundings as the golem closed in on him. He knew he had to act and stop the fires, but he would be risking using up the energy he would need to defeat Arborick. Yet another impossible situation Spyro found himself in. He’d just about had enough of them.


With the screams of the dragonflies kicking him into action, Spyro put on a fighting scowl as he surged forward towards the monster, Arborick coming to a stop and raising his left fist, Spyro knowing what was coming next as he ducked down before the monster’s fist shot forward like a coiled spring. He swept low and aimed at his left foot, casting a blanket of freezing Ice onto it as Arborick tried swinging at him with his other arm. Spyro narrowly dodged it as he swept around under the creature’s right arm, the muddy water around its leg in hardening into a brownish crystal that locked the monster in place, but Spyro knew it would only hold him for a moment.


Arborick roared as he tried to pull his frozen foot free as Spyro flew up towards the fires along the upper ledge. A handful of dragonflies flew past him in a panic as the flames crept towards their homes, Spyro hovering above the blaze and casting a quick, flower like curtain of Ice over it, smothering the flames and covering a section of the forest in icicles. He quickly looked up to see that Arborick was still frozen stuck, briefly feeling hope as he quickly flew to the next blaze, casting another quick breath of Ice, conscious of the energy he was using, in spite of poison that was aching in his body and blurring his mind.


A loud growl drew his attention back to Arborick, who had finally managed to pull his leg free and stumble back, the dragonflies hiding in the undergrowth and huts wailing in fear as the monster became free. Spyro gritted his teeth as fires continued to blossom, knowing he had to deal with them before confronting the golem. The monster turned his head around and saw the purple dragon, his eyes narrowing as he clenched his fists and roared in fury. Spyro sighed grimly just before a loud whoosh drew his attention, following the sound to another blaze that rose above the mushroom canopy further down the ledge, taking off in a flash towards it as Arborick began stomping towards him.


Spyro swooped down towards the fire as the monster suddenly grabbed one of the towers and ripped it from the water, the huts falling off and breaking like lanterns as he hurled it at his prey. Spyro ducked as it soared over his head, crashing into the undergrowth as he put the fire out with another blast of Ice as he reached the bottom of the climb. Arborick hunched down and broke into a charge towards him, the ground shaking as his feet slammed the ground. Without hesitation, Spyro broke into a charge of his own, hurling himself through the air and aiming his horns towards the golem, their mismatched sizes to the watching dragonflies seeming to favor Arborick. Spyro’s horns suddenly crackled with sparkling electricity just before they met, the golem being hurled back in a blast of lightning that knocked it on its backside, lightning rippling through the pond and causing the monster to shudder with electric shock. Spyro had managed to remain airborne, even though the blast had taken much out of him as well.


The stunned dragonflies watched in amazement, but the lightning then fizzled out and Arborick shook his head and, with a flustered snarl, began to rise to his feet once again. Spyro shook his own head in disbelief, “What the heck are you made of?” he exclaimed, before muttering more quietly to himself, “Other than wood, I mean…”


Arborick bellowed as he raised his clenched fists up like a boxer, reeling his right arm back before shooting his fist forward, his vine arm stretching outward towards Spyro, who quickly dodged to the side as the monster advanced on him. He began throwing punches with both arms at him, his fists stretching out across the air at the purple dragon who frantically propelled himself in one direction and then another as the golem tried to pummel him. Arborick growled in vexation as he threw his fists faster and more furiously at Spyro, whose heartrate and body was struggling to keep dodging the increasing tempo of flying punches. Arborick had closed the distance, his punches becoming faster still until finally they became too fast. Spyro made to swoop past on his left, but the wooden golem finally caught him, a rage fueled fist hit him like a boulder and knocked the breath from Spyro, sending him crashing back into the wall of earth and roots below the high ledge.


He fell and landed in the water hard, dazed and wincing in pain as the golem strode victoriously towards him.Spyro had landed on his tail and fallen flat into the muddy water, coughing and spitting as some of it ended up in his mouth. His whole side was aching from the blunt impact of the golems fist, on top of the poison that made his blood feel like it was turning into wet clay, but he tried to force himself up as the monster stomped towards him. He pushed with his shaking legs, his heart nearly bursting with fright as he slipped and fell into the mud again as Arborick’s shadow loomed over him. He tried again but knew it was already too late, looking up forlornly at the giant log monster as it’s glowing eyes danced with vengeful glee as it lifted its right foot, ready to plunge down and crush him like it surely would the dragonflies with nobody to save them. Spyro raised his wing over his face and closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable


“Hey! Loghead!” a voice shouted from above. Opening his eyes and lowering his wing, Spyro saw Arborick’s foot had halted just above his horns as he heard a chorus of Splat! Splat! Splat! from somewhere above. As Arborick roared, Spyro summoned the strength and speed to pull himself out of range of the creature’s foot just before the monster stumbled back and clutched at his face. Looking up, Spyro saw the golem’s eyes were blinded by the same fruits he had been eating, dropped from above by group of several of the dragonflies, rallying around one familiar golden individual who was poised to hurl another into the creature’s face.


“Sparx!” the purple dragon cried ecstatically as he watched the yellow chatterbox throw the last fruit with all his might, splattering it square onto the monster’s eyes as it tried wiping it off with one hand while blindly swinging at the air with the other.


“Hey, no slacking off!” Sparx yelled back as he and the others ducked and weaved away from the monster’s wings, “We can’t do this all on my own!”


His sarcasm, unexpected bravery and surprising ability to rally the others rekindled something within the purple dragon, causing him block out the pain and dress his mouth with a fighting smile as he shook off the mud and straightened himself upon now resolute legs. He whipped the water from his wings as a determined scowl creased his forehead,


“Alright, lets do it!”

End of Part 1.