Aria jolted awake, her heart racing as if she'd been running in her sleep. The cave was eerily silent, save for the distant drip of water echoing against the stone walls. Shadows danced from the dying embers of their fire, and the cool dampness of the cave sent a chill through her.
She blinked, trying to focus in the dim light. Simon was still lying beside her, his breathing steady and his color restored, though he remained motionless. Relief filled her chest—but then it hit her.
Spyro was gone.
"Simon," she whispered, her voice trembling as she reached out to shake his shoulder. When he didn't respond, she shook him harder. "Simon! Wake up!"
Simon groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. "Am I dead?" he rasped, his voice dry but laced with a hint of humor.
"Not yet," Aria muttered, glancing around the cave nervously. She reached for her bow and notched her last arrow. "But Spyro isn't here."
That woke him up. Simon pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his head as his eyes darted around. "What do you mean he isn't here? Where'd he go?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Aria hissed, her grip tightening on her bow as she strode toward the cave's entrance.
She stopped short, frowning at the barricade of logs, leaves, and mud that had been carefully arranged to seal them inside. "Help me with this," she called over her shoulder.
Simon staggered to his feet, looking much steadier than he had the night before. Together, they shoved and kicked at the debris until the entrance was clear. Dusting off her hands, Aria stepped outside, squinting into the early morning light.
Her breath caught. Spyro was walking toward them, his figure framed by the forest beyond. He looked fresh—too fresh—as if he'd just bathed. His clothes were clean, and over his shoulder was a large bag, its straps straining against the weight.
"Where the hell have you been?" Aria snapped, lowering her bow but not her glare.
Spyro raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unfazed. "Good morning to you too."
"We thought something happened to you!" she continued, her voice rising in frustration. "You can't just disappear like that!"
"I didn't disappear," Spyro said calmly, stepping past her into the cave. He dropped the bag onto the ground with a heavy thud. "I was getting us supplies."
"Supplies?" Simon echoed, stepping closer as Spyro began unpacking.
"I flew back to the road to find the car," Spyro explained, pulling out bundles of clothing, water bottles, and sealed containers of food. "It's gone. Either someone took it, or it vanished. So I flew home to gather what I could. On the way back, I stopped at Aria's house."
Aria froze. "You what?"
Spyro shrugged, handing her a container of food. "I told your parents everything. Your father was furious, by the way."
Her heart sank. "What do you mean 'everything'? What did you tell him?"
Spyro pulled a small, leather-bound book from the bag and handed it to her. Its cover was etched with intricate elven runes, glowing faintly in the dim light. "He wanted to come after you himself, but I convinced him it was too dangerous. Before I left, he gave me this to give to you. He said you'd know what to do with it."
Aria stared at the book, her fingers brushing over the raised symbols. The weight of it felt heavier than its size, as if it carried a truth she wasn't ready to face.
"What is it?" Simon asked, peering over her shoulder.
"A grimoire," Spyro said, his tone serious. "Your father thinks it'll help you."
Aria shook her head. "I don't even know how to use this."
"You'll figure it out," Spyro said, his voice steady with quiet confidence.
Simon, meanwhile, had pulled a pair of boots from the bag and was eagerly slipping them on. "Finally," he muttered with a satisfied sigh. "Much better than running barefoot."
Spyro handed them water. "Ration these. We don't know how long we'll be out here."
Once they'd eaten and packed up, Spyro unrolled the map they'd taken from Amelia's camp. Though burnt around the edges, it was still legible enough to plot their course.
"The sulfur in the air, the dragon fire—it's not random," Spyro said, tracing a route with his finger. "We need to head higher, into the mountains. That's where we'll find answers."
Aria glanced at the grimoire again, the weight of her father's gift gnawing at her. "And if we don't find anything?"
Spyro met her gaze, his expression grim. "Then we keep searching."
They extinguished the fire and set out, the forest closing in around them as they climbed higher. Hours passed, the trees thinning as the terrain turned sandy and uneven.
Simon stopped abruptly, crouching down. "Hold up," he said.
"What is it?" Aria asked, peering over his shoulder.
"Footprints," he said, pointing to the ground. "Barefoot. Fresh."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Should we follow them?"
Simon nodded, his tone grim. "Whoever they belong to was stumbling. They might need help."
Without waiting, Simon took off, following the trail with a sense of urgency. Aria and Spyro exchanged a glance before sprinting after him.
The footprints led them to a hollowed tree, its base littered with torn fabric and scraps of what looked like a journal. Aria knelt to inspect the scene, her pulse quickening.
"This is recent," she murmured, holding up a piece of cloth.
A piercing scream shattered the silence. Aria's head snapped up, and she saw them—a group of goblin-like creatures dragging a woman across the dirt. The woman clawed at the ground, her screams echoing through the forest.
"Let her go!" Aria yelled, raising her bow and firing. The arrow struck one goblin square in the chest, and it crumpled with a screech.
Simon charged forward, slamming his boot into another goblin's face. The creature released the woman, sending her sprawling onto Simon with a yelp.
Spyro roared, his voice reverberating through the trees as flames flickered at the edges of his mouth. The remaining goblins snarled but retreated into the shadows, their eyes glinting with malice before disappearing entirely.
Breathing heavily, Aria knelt beside the woman, who was trembling and clutching Simon's arm. Her face was streaked with dirt, her eyes wide with fear.
"Amelia?" Aria whispered, her voice soft but urgent.
The woman flinched, then looked up at her with wide, tear-filled eyes.
"Who are you?" Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible.
Aria's expression hardened, and her grip on her bow tightened. "We finally found you…"