Author's Note: This story has a few altered elements from the game, you'll find out as you read on.

"You are alone here, young dragon. You have always been alone. Still, here
you are, trying desperately to save this miserable world, refusing to accept
the true role of the purple dragon."

The words echoed in his mind; over and over again. He saw the face of the one
called the Dark Master cackle and stare at him, belittling, mocking, and
demeaning him. A dark veil of fear was slowly closing in around him, and he
could feel himself becoming parylized with overwhelming terror. He felt his
eyes tear up, and he wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run. He
felt alone; indeed, that part of Malefor's statement had been true. He
was alone. The only other dragon of his kind, in the entire world, was
standing across from and cackling at him. The one dragon that he wished he
could relate to was his worst enemy, and that thought along with the
crippling fear that seemed to surround him in every corner brought him to his
knees, and eventually onto the ground. The entire room was becoming nothing
but blackness, and the wretched laughter of Malefor echoed more and more, and
the volume increased at the same rate.

In a much lower, much more menacing tone, he heard the Dark Master speak once more,

"Accept your role and stop fighting it. What is to be done must
be done."

Spyro awoke immediately, his heart racing and breathing quick and shallow. He
quickly turned to look to his side, and, to his relief, he found his mate
sleeping peacefully. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and stood
up before wiping a few panicked tears from his eyes. He needed a drink of
water, and started walking toward a nearby pond.

This was the third night in a row that the horrific nightmare that he had
just experienced had run through his subconscious. The first night it had
happened, he attributed it to stress, but this occurrence had made three
instances. He shook his head and tried to clear his mind; it had to be
nothing. Malefor had been sealed away for ten long years now, and had no
means of escaping. The planet had pieced itself back together, and he had
started a wonderful life with his beloved mate, Cynder. He nodded; this was
nothing more than the result of stress coming from the intense training he
was giving his pupils in Warfang for the past few days.

Upon reaching the pond, Spyro stared down at the water for a few moments and
studied himself. He had reached his adult size, and it was clearly visible in
his surprising height, build, and face. His eyes resembled those of Ignitus,
his cheeks those of Volteer, and his muzzle, that of Malef-he paused. No,
there was no way he had any trace of that dragon in his
physique. He shook his head again; why was Malefor on his mind as of late? He
had not a clue, but as much as he did not want to admit it, he could in fact
see a trace of the Dark Master's snout in his own. He moved forward slightly,
stepping into the water a few feet, and studied more of his reflection. He
noticed now, for the first time, that the contours of his chest were very
similar to those of Malefor as well. He swallowed hard, and tried desperately
to fight that fact, but it remained, nonetheless. Snarling, Spyro swatted his
right paw into his reflection, and watched the rippling water distort it
into a meaningless blob of purple and gold.

He looked up at the full moon, and breathed a quivered sigh, "I know what my
problem is. I need some fucking sleep." That fact was true; since the
nightmares had started, his sleep was minimal.

He hung his head and started to walk back to the cave he and Cynder had made
their home. He smiled at the thought of her; as far as he was concerned, she
had been the only one keeping him sane these past few days. Her love for him
had always brought his heart and mind to ease, and seeing her face at the end
of each day always sent him to sleep with a warm smile on his snout. He
reached the mouth of the cave, and, not surprisingly, found her sitting there
awaiting his return.

She gave him an expression of concern as she spoke, "I was beginning to
wonder where you went."

He walked up to her and touched his nose to hers, "Don't worry, I just needed
to take a walk. I had a bad dream, that's all."

He had not told her about the nightmares. She had no reason to think about
Malefor after what he had put her through thirteen years prior, and Spyro
felt that telling her about his dreams would only stir up bad memories. He
was, however, finding it much harder this night to keep it from her after the
dream having occurred this third time. He softly sighed to himself and tried
his best to repress it.

"Do you want to talk about it? I know how unsettling some nightmares can be."

Spyro shook his head with a warm smile, "No love, it's a lot more silly than
it was frightening, thinking about it now." He sat down beside her, and she
laid her head against his as the two stared out at the night sky.

"The moon sure is pretty tonight, isn't it, Spyro?"

He looked up at it once more, and nodded in agreement, "It sure is. Come to
think of it, the whole night itself is pleasant."

Cynder let out a soft yawn before she continued the conversation, and she
moved her body closer to his, "Any night with you is a pleasant one."

Spyro felt a laugh well up, and as much as he tried to hold it back, he
started snickering.

She smirked and turned to look at him, "What?"

The purple dragon could not hold back the laughter now, "Wow, Cynder, that
was probably the corniest thing you've ever said."

She smiled and playfully punched him in the arm, "You're a jackass, you know
that? Well then, if you want some more edge and origniality, I guess I could
say that tonight reminds me of our night in the meadows a few weeks ago."

Spyro blushed heavily and looked to the ground with an embarassed grin across
his face, "Well, that night was a lot of fun, I can't lie."

She got up and started walking back to the corner of the cave where they
slept, and replied, "Another jab at my corny comments like that, and I won't
let you use the collar next time."

"Cynder!" He shook his head and got up to follow her back to bed, but
swallowed hard as he got closer. He hoped that the nightmare didn't occur
again, or worse, continue.

Ignitus looked out at the night sky as he sat comfortably on a balcony that
overlooked Warfang. A gentle, comfortable breeze blew, and he rested his head
against Cyril's neck.

"I haven't seen a night this nice in years, have you?"

The ice guardian smiled softly and shook his head in reply, "I can't say that
I have, Ignitus." Cyril, as cynical as he was, found himself letting out a
content sigh, "I feel like you and I don't get enough of these nights, where
it's just us."

Ignitus brought his snout to Cyril's right cheek, and gave him a soft kiss,
"You really should let your sweet side show more often."

Cyril blushed, "Well, consider yourself privelaged to see it."

"Mmm," Ignitus looked to the ground and paused for a few seconds, "I can't
help feeling, though, that something isn't quite right."

The ice dragon turned to him, and gave him a concerned expression, "What do
you mean?"

The fire guardian turned to Cyril, "I don't know. But something is making me
feel uneasy. Like I said, I can't pinpoint it." He shook his head and laughed
lightly, trying to fight it off, "I'm sure it's nothing. Just an odd feeling
brought on by old age."

Cyril smiled, "Well, shall we go to bed then? Perhaps some sleep would help."

Giving a nod, Ignitus stood up, "I think you're right. I'm sure I'll feel
better in the morning." He looked out into the night before turning to follow
his mate, and mouthed to himself, "At least, I hope so."