I do not own The Legend of Spyro series, its characters, or its plot. I only own my characters and ideas.
Prologue
A small dragonfly stared in awe at the star – filled sky. The dragon constellation faded as large chunks of earth slowly locked back into place on what could have been a completely decimated planet. Sparx turned around at the sound of footsteps echoing from the ruins; a sole dragon appeared at the mouth of the cave entrance, a small frown upon his brow.
"Why haven't they arrived? Are they alright? Don't tell me that 'Terror of the Skies' went crazy on Spyro; I knew she was always the cause of my sleep deprivation…" Sparx commented sarcastically and glanced back to the sun drenched valley, scanning for any sign of Spyro and faking a yawn for dramatic effect.
"Now, Sparx, she had just as much of a part in the defeat of Malefor as Spyro; don't underestimate her ability to be victorious over darkness," the Earth Guardian consoled in his deep baritone voice, placing himself next to the dragonfly. Even he was worried; had they survived? Where were they now? He sighed, knowing full well to trust Ignitus's promise the Dark Master would fall at the hands of the Savior of the Realms. And what of Ignitus? Shouldn't he have arrived by now too? Terrador shook his head to quiet his thoughts. It was all too easy to falter in one's faith and stray off of one's path; Terrador knew this, and he didn't want to follow suit as many others had during Malefor's reign; he would stay strong. The other Guardians walked out into the sunlight, squinting at the sudden change from the dark cave's lighting, followed by Hunter and General Mason. "Cyril, Volteer! The citizens of Warfang can go as they please; it is over now. Assist in their safe exit of the ruins. Hunter, if your falcon is capable after its previous journey, tell the outlying regions they are free to travel to the surface; we need as much help as we can get to rebuild our civilizations. Warfang is by far the worst off," Terrador cast Mason a sympathetic glance. "Ask for volunteers to participate in reconstruction." Hunter nodded in return and whispered in the falcon's ear, watching it until it was nothing more than a speck in the sky. Terrador stared as soot – covered moles, dragons, and cheetahs marched out of the mouth of the cave, eyes buzzing with fear at their now strange environment, trudging back to the demolished city. The other Guardians were helping the refugees in any way, as long as they weren't arguing, which was gaining them strange looks from some of the survivors. "May the ancestors guide each of us on our path, may they help us all," the dismayed Earth dragon thought, anticipating the laborious days ahead for the citizens. "Spyro, Cynder… your return is crucial to our survival." Terrador looked off into the horizon at the scattered remains of the floating islands before he plodded back towards the ruins of Warfang, awaiting the day that the Savior of the Realms would return; boosting the morale of all the traumatized in this new world. Without him, more could turn to darkness, and in a frail world like this, one person could turn the tides of this new age. Terrador hoped the others understood this as well, or they might have a new war; one they might not be lucky enough to survive. Stealing one last look at the brilliant array of colors in the sunset, the Earth dragon descended into the vast depths of the ruins, plotting his next move.
Thank you for reading my newest story, The World Anew! It will be updated once every other weekend to save time for another story I'm creating, and so the chapters can be a bit longer. I'm shooting for around 20 chapters, each 5000+ words. Again, I hoped you enjoyed! Be sure to review and favorite! Until next time.
-Qibli the Sandwing