How to Save a Spark
God, it's been a while! I've had this one in the works for a very long time, and had nothing to do, so just sat down and pumped it out. Other writers can attest to how easy it is when it's just flowing! I really haven't got much to say this time (which is really freaking weird for me), and seeing as this has no yiff (suckers!) there is no need for that disclaimer. However....
This story is MY intellectual property, and is not to be used without my express permission!
All characters save for Sapphire, Lectra and Volt are owned by Insomniac / Sierra or whoever it is that is doing Spyro these days.
You need to have open and be listening to the song ‘How to Save a Life' by The Fray whilst you read this, for it is integral to the story. ‘How to Save a Life' is the property of The Fray and I do not claim ownership over it. It can be found at the following link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmFi2snLr7o
Edit: Forgot to mention, this story implies a certain knowledge of Spyro and Co. If you don't have it, please read around a bit, there are some fantastic Spyro stories hosted on this site, and the ones not done by me are pretty good too! (JOKING!)
How to Save a Spark
The ashes, wrought by the fire from Spyro's maw, were thrown into the cool ocean breeze, to be blown across the realms, and settle as they saw fit. The small group stood atop a windswept cliff, painted red by the dying rays of the sun as it swam its heavenly way across the sky, slowly sinking into the sea as it finished it's forever-journey for another day.
The ocean sparkled and shone in the near twilight, dazzling the eyes of any who could still see clearly. Whilst not truly alive, it had a sentience of it's own, and the massive body of water could still feel the slow drops into it's depths, tasting of salt and sadness. The drops themselves fell thick and fast from the eyes of a multitude of species, brought together in their mutual grieving of a fallen friend. Even in shadow the tears sparkled.
The winds that rushed down from the nearby mountains whistled through the array of odd tools arrange on the cliff top, making them move, ever so slightly.
Their creator stood before them, slowly tuning them and making sure that all was ready. All was perfect. All HAD to be perfect. His grief was kept in check by the concentration he had to put into this, and he did not like to show his emotions.
After several minutes of deafening silence, he announced in a husky voice that all was prepared for the final tribute.
Their noise amplified through rare crystals harvested in a cave on close to the other side of the world, the tools, the "instruments" were ready to earn their wings. Their creator directed the large blue dragon towards the set of "drums" at the back, and wished her luck with a consoling hand on her shoulder. He regretted this almost immediately, as when he drew it away his fur was near frozen.
He next went over to the one in perhaps the most pain, a pink dragon who seemed fused to the purple dragon holding her, her whole body heaving with silent sobs, the tears almost forming a puddle at her feet. When she saw him coming, she raised reddened, tear-stained pink eyes to his, and words did not have to be spoken. With a final clasp to her mate, the pink dragon walked up to the small platform that had been erected, and sat behind an incredibly complex creation that she was just beginning to master, called the "piano". It was still odd for her to have 2 feet on the ground instead of the usual four, but she would overcome it for this occasion. Tears splashing on the ivory keys beneath her, she looked up and awaited her cue.
Picking up his "guitar" on the way over, he whispered a few words to the purple and gold dragon, the one who had known him best. He was carrying his grief best, the most composed of all those there, and only the pink dragon called Ember was aware of his inner turmoil, his rage at this injustice, his fear at who to turn to and his incredible guilt. After a moment more of standing there, his wings fanned behind him to catch the warmth of the dying sun, the purple dragon called Spyro ascended the few steps of the stage, and accepted the voice amplifier from the cheetah known as Hunter, creator of these strange things, and the one that had roped each of them into playing a different one.
Spyro walked over and gave Ember a last, quick embrace, and went over and thanked Sapphire the drummer for flying as far as she had to be here. He finally walked to the front of the stage and, eyes brimming with unshed tears, gave a curt nod to Hunter to announce that they were all ready, not trusting himself to speak.
Hunter gave a short jerk of his head to indicate acknowledgement, and gestured for the last member of their band to take their place. From the crowd below a feminine figure emerged, a rabbit called Bianca.
She walked onto the platform, and shared a short hug with Hunter, extracting resolve and courage from the brief contact. She moved off to one side of the stage, and picked up something that made almost all attending break into renewed sobs.
Tears matting the fur around her tear ducts, Bianca looked at Hunter for the briefest moment, before lowering her eyes to the ground in sadness. Hunter took this as her ready cue. As they were beginning, Bianca slipped the strap of Sparx' bass guitar over her shoulder.
Mentally steeling himself, Spyro listened to Ember tap away at the keys, and then began singing, "Step one you say we need to talk, he walks you say sit down, it's just to talk".
At those first opening words, the sobbing intensified, and Spark' mother was clinging desperately to her husband, trying and failing to lose some of her grief at her lost and only son.
"He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through."
Sapphire started tapping away at the drums in front of her, each eliciting a different noise. She had made her drumsticks herself, taking two cores of ice from stalactites in her home cave, and frosting her own over them on the flight here. She remembered well that flight, for she was a rare Dragon.
Frost dragons are known for their coldness in more ways than one, so they had evolved almost beyond the need of crying. The freezing temperature of their bodies froze any tears before long, which was not a problem for most, but Sapphire, the caring individual she was, had to fly fast to remove the tears. To try and grieve for someone in such a short time and then to physically not cry when the need was so desperate is beyond imagining.
"Some sort of window to my right, as he goes left and I stayed right."
Ember was openly crying now, silently watching through bleary eyes as her tears splashed over the keys before her, feeling their salty wetness as she played their fallen comrade one last tribute.
"Between the lines, of fear and blame, I think that things will never be the same."
And as Ember truly unleashed the musical power of her piano, and Hunter and Bianca finally took their cues, Spyro sang "I know that I went wrong, and lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness, and I would have stayed up, healing all night, had I known, how to save a life."
Beyond anything else, beyond seeing her sons crumpled wings, beyond seeing his blank stare, even beyond seeing the dragon that was like a son to her ceremonially turn him to ash and scatter him to the Winds and the Earth, Lectra the dragonfly found these words the most powerful. And as she passed beyond emotion, and journeyed into the dark place beyond that is perilously close to madness her husband Volt took her in his arms and held her. And though she moved away from that abyss of insanity, she still did not cry. She doubted she ever would again.
"I let him know that I knew best, ‘cos after all I wouldn't rest. Tried to move him to the back, so I could get my task on track."
Bianca and Hunter, particularly Bianca, were the odd ones out at this ceremony. They had never known Sparx that well, had rarely even talked to him. Bianca hadn't even wanted to play his guitar, not out of any disgust or embarrassment on her part, but out of fear and respect. Fear that she would disgrace the memory of him playing it, and respect for that same memory. But Hunter was her pillar of strength, and after what Spyro did to save her from The Sorceress she would do anything for him.
"Layed down a list of what was wrong, things he'd told me all along. But no I didn't listen, and no I didn't listen!"
The sound picked up once more, music spun from the heart and soul, riding and cresting the waves of sadness and guilt, curling around the faces of everyone present, feeling their tears and sobs.
"WHY did I go wrong? I lost a friend, somewhere, alone in the darkness, and he would have still come with me on flights, had I known how to save a life."
"And thoughts he did no longer voice, as I turned away, and I made the last choice."
There were mixed emotions from the crowd that had gathered to mourn the fallen hero. They ranged from crying dragonesses who clung to anyone close enough, to stoic dragons, trying desperately to stay composed. However their outward emotions did not matter. When a group of beings get together with a single purpose, a single, pure, inviolable purpose, emotion is as easy to feel as the air around them, or the grass between their toes.
Beings from all walks of life had shown up. Most of the dragons that Spyro and Sparx had freed from Gnasty Gnorc's crystal imprisonment, a lot of the hatchlings they had met in their travels, even some of their friends from far-flung places. Bentley the yeti had come up, sweating in the boiling, non-arctic heat, Agent 9 had taken time off his mysterious business, Sergeant Byrd had to go all the way to headquarters to get a special one-day leave pass, and up the back even Sheila the Kangaroo had come up from her Southern home, rocking backwards and forwards on her long tail.
"I didn't think my plan through, but he backed me up as always. Should have done of two things, should've listened to everything. Or I should have just changed the plan; we could have backed off and ran away."
They were past the halfway point now, and the music was growing stronger and louder, and, oddly, more mellifluous with each passing second. It flowed over, through and around everyone there, connecting them as one, and at that moment beings ceased to be. There became one entity of sorrow, with one voice of guilt.
"I know where I went wrong, and lost a friend, who was alone at the very end. And I would have, defended him all night, had I known how to save a life."
And as the music continued that single entity fell deeper and deeper into it's grief, passing beyond conscious thought, dragged down by some unexplainable instinct into an unfathomable place of loss, as it sought to fill the emptiness that was now inside them all.
And yet still the music grew stronger.
"I know that I went wrong, and lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness, and I would have stayed up with him all night, had I known how to save a life."
The music nearly ceased, carried on by the grieving pink pianist only, and for a moment the crowd all had their minds slammed back into conscious thought, and all they could think of was their friend, their comrade, their child, Sparx.
"How to save a life."
And as the most powerful emotions ever experienced in their world were created, the music returned once more, letting them lean on each other, use each other's strength to overcome this. But it was not enough. Not nearly enough.
"How to save a life! I shouldn't have gone wrong, and lost a friend, out there, alone, in the wilderness and I, would have given, the Gods a fright, with my will to, try and save your life!"
And as Ember, Sapphire, Hunter and Bianca sung along, Spyro, the greatest of the purple dragons, the strongest being in existence, and the kindest and gentlest soul anyone could ever meet could not hold back the tears. For he had killed his friend.
"Where did I go wrong ("Where did I go wrong..." sang the backup)? I killed my friend, it's my fault he's moved on to darkness, and I would have done things, beyond, my might, had I known, how to save a life."
For it was Spyro who wouldn't listen to Sparx's plan in his haste, it was Spyro who insisted that, on that cold night in the middle of nowhere, in that abandoned and run-down mansion, that he keep the flying gnorcs out of the window whilst Sparx guard the door because he thought that all the gnorcs were attacking through the window, it was Spyro who did not hear Sparx's cries for help until it was far too late.
And it was Spyro who blamed Spyro for the death of Sparx.
"How to save a life."
As Sapphire tapped out the final notes to the song, the crowd came back to themselves, and realized, completely and utterly realized, that a hero had died.