Author’s Note: Feel free to skip the bolded text and move directly to the story! Don’t be intimidated by it!

After a lot of thought and consideration (and writer’s block) I am back! I have decided to scrap the idea for the sequel I originally had and have come up with a completely different sequel. This one does not involve humans except for one maybe appearing in the ending. I apologize to anyone who submitted a human OC or an OC who would be involved with humans in this story. That doesn’t mean this is going to be bad. I was just inspired by the thoughts of a few people and by Dawn of the Dragon to take the sequel in a different direction. Below is my disclaimer spiel. I’m only gonna post it once.

I understand that the events of DotD greatly contrast with how my previous story went. This new story pays relatively little attention to the events of DotD. Additionally, I am adding into my alternate universe characters from the original Spyro games. I know some people have strong dislikes of mixing original Spyro characters with Legend of Spyro characters. Feel free to voice your opinions in a review or PM. I don’t tolerate flames, but constructive criticism is always welcome (like if I’m making a lot of grammar errors). Lastly, while this story is rated T at the moment, it contains blood and violence, some adult themes and bad language at certain times. I will adjust the rating as I see fit. If you think it’s too mature and should be rated M, again please voice your opinion. Feedback is appreciated!

Lastly is some copyright stuff. Spyro and related characters are copyright Activision (formerly Sierra), Krome Studios and Etranges Libellules. Several minor characters including minor enemies are copyright Capom Co., Ltd. This story also uses OCs (original characters) created by other authors: Ash (MadGuns22, although the username might have changed), Austin (TMHB77), Alastor (a close friend of mine) and Aerius (my brother). If your OC isn’t listed here, I had to take it out because of the change in stories. If you would like to submit an OC related to the Spyro universe (cheetah, ape, dragon, etc) please PM as soon as you can! All other OCs are mine. Let’s get this show on the road!

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The Legend of Spyro: The Black Tempest

Prologue- Dark Ambitions

The prophecies…

An ancient, weary, gray dragon slowly walked through a set of hollow wood doors. He emerged in a room immersed in a light blue hue. A strange hourglass, unusually large, was emitting the vibrant light. Draped in a tattered cloak and wearing a similarly-glowing blue crystal, this dragon bore not a name but a title: the Chronicler. He was known by few, seen by fewer. Those dragons of the older generation tried to hide the stories of the Chronicler from their kin; the stories that associated the Chronicler with periods of doom and destruction.

They are a marvelous scripture.

The Chronicler confidently strolled passed a library filled to the bursting point with books. They were the history of the dragon race, of every individual dragon. It started from the days in which the eggs bearing the holy ancestors were hatched on a small island to the recent opening of the forbidden portal: the portal to the dark realms.

The prophecies proclaimed a miracle.

The Chronicler passed many books. He had read them over for countless millennia, idly passing the time until new pages emerged in his newest books. He recognized all of them. Here, the book of the first great draconic general who launched the most brilliant counterattack to stop invading barbarian tribes. There, the book of the first purple dragon, Malefor. He was a demented, deranged dragon whose unlimited power consumed him. Malefor nearly succeeded in exterminated the entire dragon race. But just recently, the final pages of Malefor’s book had been written and the Chronicler had closed the book on the feared purple dragon at last.

A young hatchling, a purple dragon would save the dragon race from the very brink of utter devastation.

At last, the Chronicler stopped in front of a book. He pulled it out and stared at the front cover. The Chronicler had been opening this book almost every day since the fall of Malefor. It was the book of the mighty dragon of prophecy: the purple dragon, Spyro. The Chronicler still remembers meeting Spyro for the first time. The fiery young hatchling denounced him and his books. The Chronicler had always believed what was written in his books, it was fate and it was destined to happen. And yet this young hatchling was quick to wheel on him, claiming that fate was not simply something laid out in the pages of a book. The mighty purple dragon set off for the mountain fortress of the damned dragon, Malefor to try and stop the Night of Eternal Darkness. Did the Chronicler bother to stop him? Of course not: the books foretold of the dragon of prophecy’s departure. It would not be until three years later that Spyro was to be seen again. But he gave everyone a startling spectacle to remember when he finished off the fiendish Malefor once and for all. Since then, the Chronicler had been checking Spyro’s book every day. He needed to see what would happen next. But nothing ever showed up. The pages beyond the dragon of prophecy’s triumph over Malefor were blank.

This mighty and all-powerful being would leave his mark on this age. His name… would never be forgotten.

The Chronicler slowly opened the book. The words of the prophecy, sacred not just to all dragons but to all the creatures of the world, echoed in his head. He flipped the pages past the destruction of Malefor. The low hum of the hourglass ringed out in the Chronicler’s head. He opened his eyes and looked down. The elderly dragon frowned. Blank again. “I don’t understand.” He muttered. “He’s done so much since the end of Malefor, but none of it has appeared here.” The Chronicler turned to face the large hourglass. The warm blue glow radiated off his scales and he lay down, basking in the warmth of the hourglass’s glow. His mind raced with thoughts. He thought of the purple dragon and of the deadly trinket in his possession: the dark gem. The portal to the dark realms had never been opened since the days of the ancestors. But one little mistake sent the mighty purple dragon and some of his closest friends tumbling into the desolate, lifeless realm. Not long after they entered, the Chronicler sensed a surge of dark energy. He had felt that same surge three and half years ago and the thought made him cringe. His mind shifted to the prophecy itself. There was something peculiar about it. The Chronicler had viewed the prophecies countless times, and he always felt like there was something wrong with them. He quickly put his sharp intellect to work as he did every day. He drew out the scrolls of the prophecy in his mind. Every line and every letter of the scriptures formed inside his head. He was at this task for several minutes when he hit a mental block. He had drawn out the prophecies countless times, and always at this spot he found himself stuck and without a clue. He tried to make sense of this, and it was then that it had hit him…

…there was something missing.

A gray gloomy sky had set over the dragon realms. Hundreds of dragons from all different parts of the dragon lands were gathering at the great dragon temple. Their expressions were grim and looks of panic were streaked across their faces. Word spread fast of why their mighty leaders had called a meeting, and no one had liked the sound of it. A gust of wind blew over the lush green valley. The dragons settled into the temple. Arranged before them were twelve dragons of vibrant and exquisite colors. 11 of them were standing, facing them all with grim expressions on their faces. The twelfth dragon, a black male with a blood red underbelly, horns and wings was bound by chains against the wall opposite all the dragons. His chest was littered with deep slash marks and dark bruises. Blood was trickling out the side of the dragon’s mouth as he hung there, struggling to breathe. He had tried to break out of his iron bonds, but his fighting spirit had disappeared after he’d been beaten senselessly by a few of the 11 dragons in front of him.

At last, the dull murmur of voices died down. The largest of the dragons, a red male with a violet underbelly, horns, and red wings stepped forward. “We,” His voice trailed off as the black dragon behind him coughed up a small amount of blood. Several of the dragons in the audience cringed. “We have called you all here today because there is treachery within our borders.” The red dragon turned and walked over to the black dragon, who hissed menacingly at the noble red dragon. The red dragon was quick to violently lash out against the defenseless dragon with his razor-sharp tail. The black dragon now uttered a moan of pain as a new slash mark embedded itself within his underbelly. The red dragon turned to face the audience. “This… this scum, this lowest of all dragons broke one of the foremost laws that we, the first of all the dragons, created.” The red dragon nodded to his 11 companions. “And to make matters worse,” the red dragon’s voice rose and his eyes flared up in anger, “this traitor was one of us; one who set forth the laws which you obey today.” The red dragon turned to face the black dragon, which diverted his gaze from the angry form of the red dragon. “Alastor, creator of the might earth element, you stand before us accused of the practice of dark magic.” A rather large gust of wind swept through the temple and the on looking dragons gasped in astonishment. The dragon before them was not the same Alastor who had lovingly done everything for the sake of the earth itself and who had filled the brimming minds of his kin with his wise teachings. This Alastor no longer bore the proud green colors of the mighty earth. Long ago he surrendered his kindness and his element in return for power: dark power which left a wake of despair and destruction behind it. Alastor weakly lifted his head up to face the red dragon.

“You’re a blind, old fool, Bruciare. You should all be thanking me, showering me with gifts!” Alastor erupted into another frenzy of coughing. “If it wasn’t for me, we would be fighting a losing battle against the superior humans. But I, yes I alone vanquished them with one foul swoop of my power.” A sadistic grin formed on Alastor’s face. “Just imagine what we could do with this kind of power. We could put all the other continents under our iron rule. The dragons would reign supreme over all!” Alastor filled the halls with seconds of maniacal laughter, before Bruciare, lord of the flames, struck at Alastor once more with his tail.

“You have lied to us and spread your powers to your numerous offspring, Alastor. You think this is a laughing matter?! YOU have endangered the very future of our mighty race with your foolish actions!” Bruciare roared and a prolonged silence followed. Only the soft whisper of the winds could be heard. Smoke billowed out of the fire lord’s nostrils. “Alastor, you must renounce your powers. Sacrifice them to the great and powerful spirit gems that give us our strength and power and all shall be forgiven.” Bruciare glared at the black dragon, who met the fire lord with a wry grin.

“I’m deeply sorry, mighty Bruciare, first of all us ancestors and lord over the vicious flames. Allow me to give you a little something for your troubles!” Alastor promptly opened his maw and blasted the fire dragon with a powerful purple beam. Bruciare was knocked off his feet and collapsed on the ground. Alastor broke into another roar of laughter. A yellow male and blue male dragon quickly ran to the aid of their companion, helping him back to his feet. His chest thoroughly scorched, the fire lord erupted with anger.

“Sadist! Heathen! Filth like you is not welcome here!” He roared. “You no longer deserve to walk among our kind!” He leaped toward a corner of the large room and returned with a large, blue crystal. It was a spirit gem, a source of power and energy for the dragons. Alastor’s eyes widened in pure shock as he realized what Bruciare was about to do. “What is the matter, old friend? Has your fighting spirit vanished? You look as pale as ghost!” Bruciare approached Alastor and broke off a segment of the crystal; he held the gem fragment in his hands. “Good bye, Alastor. May your name be forgotten till the ends of time.” Bruciare stabbed Alastor with the gem. The black dragon roared in pain as black energy began to stream out of his body. The gem itself turned a demonic black and red; overwhelmed by the amount of purely dark energy. When it seemed like Alastor had nothing left to give, Bruciare removed the black gem. Alastor looked up at the fire lord, his face bearing an expression ground down by pain.

“I’ll never forget this… coward!” He hissed as his body dissolved before the dragons’ very eyes. Alastor was soon nothing more than a black mist fading into the sullen gray sky. Bruciare held up the black gem for all to see.

“Friends! Take a good long look at this, this wretched piece of evil! From this point forward, not a soul other than myself and the other ten noble lords and ladies before you shall know of its whereabouts.” Bruciare turned and marched out of the temple, his companions following close behind him. The other dragons left the temple in a hurry, racing for the safety of their homes and the comfort of their kin.

‘W… Where am I?’

A single pair of purple eyes darted around the seemingly endless purple void below him. A young, male purple dragon was hovering above the large void, flapping his newly developed, mature wings to keep himself in the air. The purple dragon felt like he was frozen in place. He was not moving left, right, up or down. Was there some powerful dark force holding him in place? ‘Hello?’ The dragon cried out in panic. ‘Can anybody hear me? Where am I?’ He cried.

Nothing, only the distant echo of his cries rings out.

Panic courses through the purple dragon’s veins. He flaps his wings faster, but again no progress is made.

An illusion? Maybe the void is throwing off his sense of direction.

‘Somebody answer me! Anybody, please; I’m begging you!’ He yelled out in panic. His own voice shoots the question back at him. He hovers there, dumbfounded. Where was he? How did he get here? And could he ever get home? He stairs at the void below him: a swirling vortex of purple and black. Was he doomed to be sucked in by the void? Was his life ending at such a young age?

No. A single speck of hope, a platform appears. The dragon’s face beams with happiness as he darts for the safety of the floating isle. He lands on it, folding up his tired wings and catching his breath. He looks around for some signs of life, of anything.

'Welcome.'

'What? Who said that? Who’s there?' The purple dragon’s eyes darted madly about, searching desperately for the source of the voice. 'Show yourself!' The purple dragon flared his wings, trying to give off a menacing impression.

'Hahahhaha! That was very cute, boy.' The deep voice chortled back. The purple dragon gritted his teeth in anger and wheeled around. He found himself gazing upon another purple dragon. This one, much grater in size then him, glared menacingly at his smaller counterpart. The younger purple dragon’s eyes widened.

'M-Malefor?' He gasped. He waited, but the large purple dragon did not respond. The younger purple dragon walked forward until his head was just in front of the Dark Master’s broad chest. He looked up, but Malefor continued to stare forward into the infinite void. Suddenly, an invisible force yanked Malefor, who swung limply to the side. The young, startled purple dragon leaped backward. 'Something’s not right.' he muttered. He stared at the Dark Master once more. Upon closer inspection, he found himself staring into sorrowful eyes. The young purple dragon felt nothing but a sense of hopelessness staring into them.

'At last, I finally get to meet you: those pathetic ancestors’ last hope for the pathetic race of dragons!' The purple dragon looked up, and saw a shadowy black dragon floating above Malefor. The purple dragon’s legs trembled, and a shiver was sent up his spine. 'Hahahahaha! What’s the matter boy, scared?' The shadow yanked his right paw backward, and again Malefor was yanked. The ferocious, malevolent purple dragon now squealed out in pain as the shadow slammed him forcefully to the ground. Malefor whimpered as he stumbled back to his feet.

'Why are you doing this? Tell me!' The terrified younger dragon cried out. The shadow ignored the purple dragon and again slammed Malefor to the ground. Malefor screamed in pain and the younger dragon’s eyes widened in shock.

'Don’t act so surprised, boy!' The shadow growled back at him. “He is merely being punished for his failures!” The shadow yanked Malefor back even harder than before. He slammed both his paws forward and Malefor tumbled off the side of the platform. The younger purple dragon turned to run away, but the shadow quickly slithered in front of him. The purple dragon froze with fear. He threw his large wings up to shield himself, preparing for the worst. 'Don’t be afraid, child. I simply want to congratulate you for your victory against that failure of a purple dragon.' The purple dragon poked his head out from under his wings. He found himself staring right at the shadow’s face. A pair of glowing red eyes stared back at him. 'So… this is the true nature of my foe? The one who derailed my plans to at last escape this cursed place?! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!' The shadow dragon charged at the purple dragon, slamming into him with his long, sharp horns. The delicate membrane coating the purple dragon’s wing was penetrated, and soon a rush of blood filled the deep cuts the shadow created.

'I don’t understand, why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?' The purple dragon’s eyes watered; the pain in his wing was unlike any pain he had ever felt. The shadow flew up in front of him again, glaring at the purple dragon with his cold, hollow eyes.

'You are nothing but a coward!' The shadow spat. 'I used Malefor… corrupted him and bended him to my very will like I’d been doing for thousands of years! He was the most powerful creature to ever wield my dark powers,' The shadow dragon turned his back on the purple dragon. 'Powers… which he foolishly transferred to a naive coward like you? UNTHINKABLE!' The shadow dragon turned and charged again. The purple dragon was ready this time and rolled to the side. But he didn’t expect the shadow’s razor sharp tail to swerve around at him. The purple dragon screamed in pain as the blades of the tail dug deep into his side. The shadow turned around, smiling; a row of razor sharp teeth forming. He flicked his tail out from the purple dragon, leaving three large gashes. More tears formed in the purple dragon’s eyes as the pain radiated throughout his entire body. His head was throbbing, his knees quaking and he swayed from side to side. The shadow shook his head. 'You are truly pathetic, but you will have to do.' The shadow dragon began to slowly fly around the purple dragon, laughing to himself. 'I will capture you.' He whispered, as he lowered his head mere inches away from the purple dragon’s petrified face. 'As the last of my pawns, you shall sit and watch as I use your power to destroy everything you hold dear; everything you’ve ever treasured; everything that gave you a reason to fight… to LIVE! And once you’ve been completely demoralized, I will consume you like I did Malefor and every dragon that was unlucky enough to bear the purple color of the prophecy! Together, we shall infuse the world with darkness; we will create a utopia for any creature that has ever been exposed to my dark powers!' The shadow dragon erupted into laughter as his body began to expand around the purple dragon.

'No…' the dragon whispered. 'No, please don’t do this!' He cried. 'No… NO…'

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“NOOOOOOOOO!” Spyro’s eyes snapped open and his head bolted upright. Spyro stared at his left paw… or what he thought was his left paw. He whimpered as his tried to flex it. The paw had been thoroughly burnt to a crisp. As he opened his scorched paw, a gem dropped to the floor. It was glowing a strange, dark red color. The young purple dragon knew that this gem had injured him in his sleep. It was the second time that it had happened. The first time had been earlier in the day. He tried to blot out everything he had just dreamt: Malefor’s suffering, his own physical pain, and worst of all, the strange shadow who had manipulated it all. Spyro tried to stand up, but he realized his chest was weighed down. He looked over at the still figure of a black dragoness and his closest friend, Cynder, whose head was resting on his chest. Thankfully, she hadn’t been woken up by his little outburst. He slowly slid backward, the black dragoness’s head gently lowering onto the soft earth. He got to his feet as best he could, flinching slightly when he was forced to put weight on his left paw. He looked up, gazing upon the thousands of stars twinkling in the night sky. He looked down at Cynder. The two of them hadn’t really been together that long, considering half that time was spent trapped within a crystal. The black dragoness mumbled and then turned over onto her other side. A weak smile formed on the purple dragon’s face as he watched her chest and red underbelly slowly expand and contrast. She looked so calm and at peace. The smile quickly faded, however and he left the sleeping dragoness and slowly began to walk down the hill.

Spyro was feeling horribly troubled. His mind was plagued with frightening thoughts. The dream he had was now something else to pile on top of all his misery. He walked up to the edge of a small brook that ran down past the Dragon Temple. The guardians were asleep in there, as was Sparx and some of his other friends. But he felt like he needed a night away from the temple and he came up this hill to sleep. He still remembered what happened on that hill earlier in the morning, what Cynder had said to him: they were going to find a solution to their powers… together.

Spyro stared at the water. Instead of his reflection he found a black dragon staring back at him. It had hollow purple eyes and a dark purple underbelly and horns. Spyro frowned and shut his eyes as tight as he could. He snapped them back open, and stared at his own, frowning reflection. He had always thought that the trouble would be over when Malefor was at last disposed of, and peace would be ushered back into the world. But only a few days later, the fate of the world was once again put on his shoulders. He was pushed to his breaking point, had to travel to the darkest depths of the forbidden world, the dark realm and had watched as Cynder was nearly killed. He still remembered it, that man’s furious shout, the cold steel blade plunging through her chest. And then… it had happened again. His dark powers had resurfaced once again, after 3 years of dormancy. Again his dark form took a life and again it nearly consumed him, this time causing him to harm people he loved and cared about.

Spyro lay down, staring at the brook. He watched the water gently drift down and out of sight. A single leaf fell from a tree and touched the water. His reflection became distorted and the purple dragon sighed. “Oh ancestors,” he whispered, “Please, here me out. I’ve done all that you’ve asked of me, I have twice saved this world from falling to dark powers.” Spyro choked on his own words. “But I have to know why, why do you keep torturing me like this? All I asked for was strength: the strength to help overcome my foes. I never asked for power… power that wouldn’t deviate between friend and foe. If I have to spend the rest of my days trying to fight off the urge to harm everyone I’ve ever cared for…”

A single teardrop; the brook rippled and his reflection again became distorted.

“It’s like I don’t even know who I am or why I’m here anymore.”

“Please don’t say that Spyro.” Spyro quickly got to his feet and turned around. Cynder quietly stepped out from behind one of the trees.

“How long have you been back there?” Spyro asked.

“Long enough, Spyro.” The two of them just stared at each other. Spyro shifted uncomfortably. Cynder broke the silence, “Spyro, I can’t believe you would think something like that. It’s not worth it to get this worked up about the darkness.” She walked up next to Spyro, who purposely averted his gaze. “I know you don’t like me seeing you like this, Spyro, but just hear me out: nothing bad can possibly happen to you. You’re safe here Spyro. You’re surrounded by friends. The darkness can’t touch you here. Spyro, I’ve known you long enough now to realize that no matter what your mind thinks, you’ll never give in.” She paused; Spyro turned and looked at her. He studied the worried expressions on her face. “Spyro, you’re not like Malefor; you have a heart. A heart that’s willing to fight for everything it believes in. Face it Spyro, we all need you. Every single person out there looks up to you for inspiration. If you weren’t here, I… I’d…” A purple paw was put up to Cynder’s mouth. She looked up at Spyro, who was smiling again at last.

“I understand, Cynder.” He paused. “It’s just like you said, we’ll get through this, together.” Cynder smiled back as he repeated what she’d told him earlier in the day. “Will you forgive me for acting so childish?” Cynder chuckled.

“Of course I will, Spyro.” She whispered back. The two dragons gently embraced for a brief second. They then stood there, staring at each other. Cynder finally snapped back to attention. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep.” She said. Spyro nodded. “After all,” she continued, smirking, “Sparx left me to make sure you got your eight hours!”

“Cynder!” Spyro playfully whined, rolling his eyes.

Alastor stood atop an island littered with dead vegetation. The trees and shrubs were decaying. The grass was a crabby gray color and everything was covered in filthy, disgusting purple moss. The moss had a horrible, wet stench to it and Alastor’s nostrils twitched as the odor tickled his snout. He stared at the swirling black portal in front of him. His mind was churning with thoughts of bloody work and a sinister grin wrapped itself around his face. “At long last,” he exclaimed, “the time of my triumph is at hand.” Alastor darted away from the portal and leaped into the lightning-filled, purple sky. He extended his mighty wings in flight and took off for the farthest reaches of the dark realm.

End of prologue

So there’s the prologue. The earlier parts of this story probably won’t be as long as some of the chapters you’re used to reading. Please feel free to leave a suggestion if you have one! All of your comments are greatly appreciated!