Chapter 4
The next day in Avalar, the portal to the Dragon Realms hummed and flared as Nestor, the leader of the Artisan dragons, stepped through into the castle courtyard. Elora and Hunter approached the large dragon, who towered over them on two legs.
“Nestor, what brings you here?” Elora asked respectfully, the faun looking up at the dragon, unsure of his presence, the elders rarely left their home realm.
Nestor looked around, as if he was searching for something. “Where’s Spyro?” he asked, confused. “He said he was coming here to see you. It’s been two days.”
“Spyro?” Hunter asked, “He never came here, no one’s been through the portal recently. You mean he’s missing?” A small bit of concern in his voice.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Nestor said, nonchalantly. “Spyro does have a tendency to wander off on his own, visiting the various realms, maybe he went to the Forgotten Realms instead to visit friends there?”
“Maybe,” Elora said.
“Yeah…maybe” Hunter said, he looked toward the portal, uncertainty in his eyes.
“Thank you for your time.” Nestor said politely and headed back through the portal.
Hunter watched him leave, the Cheetah swished his tail, thinking. Something doesn’t feel right, he thought to himself. Without a second thought he picked up his bow and quiver and headed toward the portal
“Hunter? Where are you going?” Elora asked, her head following him.
“I’m gonna find him, I’m probably just being paranoid but this feels…wrong.” He knew it was silly, Spyro can take care of himself.
“Well ok, but I’m sure he’s fine,” Elora said, heading back to the castle.
Hunter waved her off and ran through the portal.
---
“You better not be making me worry over nothing,” Hunter said under his breath. He walked through the woods, not even following the path to the Artisan Home World. He knew Spyro could be a bit chaotic. The kid probably wouldn’t even bother staying on the path, he’d be leaping over bushes, climbing on rock for a quick glide. He spent enough time around Spyro to know the purple dragon never did anything straight forward.
Suddenly there it was, the tracks of a young dragon. “Got you,” Hunter whispered, “now where’d you go?”. The tracks were heading in the direction of the Avalar portal, the cheetah followed them carefully.
The forest opened up to a clearing and Hunter could clearly see something bad had happened there. A bolas lay on the ground, Hunter picked it up and sniffed it, and he immediately recognized the scent. “Spyro," he said quietly. His heart started to pound, he continued to look around spotting the burnt remains of a net. “Somebody was hunting him,” he said aloud. He carefully examined the grass. It had been days but he could clearly see the imprints of paws, both dragon and some other species he wasn’t familiar with. It was big and apparently there were a lot of them, at least a half a dozen.
“Oh buddy, what has happened to you?” Hunter said, voice getting fearful. This was becoming serious, somebody had taken Spyro and it had happened at least two days ago. He scrambled around the clearing trying to figure out what direction Spyro’s captors would have taken him.
Eventually Hunter located some broken branches. “This way” he said under his breath. He moved swiftly through the woods, eyes scanning for anything unusual. The tracks were faint but they were enough. The dragon tracks stretched across the ground, like Spyro had been dragged.
Then Hunter saw something on the ground, something sparkling in the sunlight, he knelt down. Purple scales, and was that…blood? Hunter began running faster, please no he thought. Suddenly he burst through the woods and found himself standing before a windswept wasteland of desert and craggy rocks. The tracks were gone, blown away in the stands.
“Spyro!” he shouted, his voice lost in the wind. His heart raced faster, blood pounded in his ears, he fell to his knees, his arms clutching his chest. “No, no, no.” he whispered.
After several minutes Hunter composed himself and stood up, looking out at the wasteland. “Alright, keep it together,” he says, his voice unsteady. He looked back toward the woods, toward the Dragon Realms.
I should go back, he thought, gather the dragons, get them out here. He turned to leave, but couldn’t, he turned back to the endless wastes. “There’s no time,” he said, “I don’t know what they want with him but they clearly have no problem hurting him.” He adjusted his quiver, “I can’t waste time arguing with Nestor, I’d have to show him what I found, then we’d have to gather a search party. Spyro doesn’t have that kind of time.”
Hunter took a deep breath and headed out into the wastes.
---
Hunter sat by the fire, eating roasted cactus. The taste was rather unpleasant. The sun was setting in the desert, the cold of the night creeping in. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been out here but he estimated it had to be at least a couple weeks.
He finished the food and tossed the rest into the fire, causing the flames to flare. He was exhausted, running on fumes. His paws were sore, and sand coated his fur. Weeks of searching and nothing to show for it, no evidence of where Spyro’s abductors had taken him.
“It has been so long,” Hunter said, looking up at the stars. “What if he’s already….?” He pushed the thought out of his head and looked back at the fire. “Spyro’s tough, he’ll hold on till I find him,” he said trying to sound confident. He wanted to believe that, really wanted to believe that, but fear gnawed at his heart.
Suddenly he heard a sound, his ears swiveled, voices. He quickly kicked sand over the fire dousing it, and crouched down, crawling toward the sound coming up over the dune.
A group of large disheveled canines were walking through the desert single file. He looked at their feet. He was certain they matched the tracks he found where Spyro was taken. It's them, I’m coming for you buddy.
Hunter followed the creatures throughout the night, always keeping a careful distance but never letting them out of his sight. They jabbered amongst themselves in broken speech, mostly complaining about the walk. Not one mention of Spyro or why they would want a small dragon.
As the sun started to rise and the desert began to heat up, the creatures approached the entrance to a canyon and entered. This is it, he thought, he can’t be far now.
After the canines disappeared into the canyon, Hunter approached its maw, wind howled through it. He didn’t know what he was going to find, but he hoped it would be his best friend.
He headed inside, silently creeping forward, listening for the creatures' voices that echoed through the canyon, being sure not to accidentally stumble upon them.
He thought back to when he entered the desert, charging out into the wastes with barely a second thought, with nothing but his bow and quiver and no one else, it certainly wasn’t his smartest decision. He’d considered turning back many times, but every time his thoughts drifted to Spyro being tortured or worse, the unknown of what was happening to his friend was swallowing him whole.
Soon the darkness of the canyon gave way to light and the echoing voices of the canines faded. Hunter's heart pounded in his chest, what was he going to find on the other side of this canyon? What if he’d followed the wrong group? What if Spyro was in the opposite direction? What if he was being led into a trap?
Hunter raised his hand as the day of the sun hit his face, and walked out of the canyon. As his eyes adjusted to the light, a massive hole in the ground appeared in front of him. He could see the canines in the distance, walking toward the hole. “What am I looking at?” Hunter asked himself.
He looked to the side of the canyon, examining the wall before raising his leg and placing a clawed paw against it and began climbing. Several minutes later he arrived at the top of the canyon and peered down into the massive hole. He couldn’t believe his eyes, it was a huge quarry, with hundreds of beings milling about inside the massive hole.
Hunter knelt and took in everything with his sharp feline eyes. There are the large canines, they seem to be in charge, the rest appeared to be… ”slaves” Hunter said aloud, “they’re all slaves.” His voice dipped in anguish.
Various species of all shapes and sizes were working below but Hunter was only focused on finding one. “Please,” he said, almost pleading, even though he knew what it meant if his best friend really was down there.
Then he saw it, a flash of purple. “Spyro!” Hunter shouted. “He’s alive, oh thank goodness he’s alive!” But his relief was short-lived as he observed Spyro working below. The purple dragon was hauling an impossibly huge cart of ore up the sides of the quarry. He looked dead tired, like he would fall over any second.
Nearby, a large canine stood. He appeared to be yelling at Spyro. Suddenly he swung something in his hand—a whip—-striking Spyro across the back. The little dragon didn’t slow down, he just kept walking.
Hunter balled his hands into fists, tears in his eyes. This was worse than anything he’d imagined. He grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow and aimed it at the canine, knowing full well it wouldn’t reach. He wanted to run down there, beat the monster half to death and get Spyro out of there, but he knew he couldn’t take them all on.
“I need help,” Hunter said, lowering his bow. “This is too big for me.” He calculated how long it would take to get back to the Dragon Realms. He’d been building a map of the desert in his head over the past two weeks and based on that he figured he could probably be talking to Nestor by nightfall, then they could be back here by tomorrow night.
But he couldn’t take his eyes off Spyro’s slow shaky walk, the dragon was barely holding on, another day of this could kill him Hunter thought. He considered his options, while he couldn’t fight his way through every Hyena between him and Spyro, a stealth approach at night...that could work, he would have superior vision compared to canines under those conditions.
He noted the cells dug into the perimeter of Quarry, find out which one is Spyro’s at sunset, slip down there, pick the lock with an arrowhead, get back out, simple.
It was of course risky, if he got spotted he was as good as dead. But he was certain he could pull it off, the alternative was to leave Spyro in the hands of these dogs for another day.
Finally Hunter broke his gaze and looked back toward the Dragon Realms. “I can’t take the chance that he’ll…no, I’m getting him out of there tonight, " he said with confidence. Hunter stood up and walked away from the ledge toward the shadow of an outcropping behind some bushes and lay down underneath. He’d spent the whole night tracking the canines through the desert and was exhausted, he’d need all his strength for what was to come. “Just hang on a little longer buddy, I’m coming for you.” He closed his eyes, trying to put the sight of Spyro in that pit out of his mind.
