Prologue

Night fell upon Warfang, City of Dragons. Dragonfire lit the torches in the city square, illuminating the shapes of many, many dragons. The dragons kept casting anxious glances at the balcony above their heads, and their low, uncertain voices rumbled like thunder through their ranks. Many of them pawed at the ground or lashed their tails nervously, casting great moving shadows against the stone city walls.

Suddenly a dragon stepped onto the balcony. Her scales were the same sandy-brown as the stone buildings around her, and her long, winding tail ended in a nasty barb, like a scorpion. She was an Earth Dragon, though unlike most Earth Dragons she was slim and snakelike, not huge and hulking with swampy green scales. This is because she was a particular species of Earth Dragon, one that comes from the desert. She was flanked by two other dragons clad in dull bronze armour. Last onto the balcony was an old, injured Ice Dragon. A green, snake-shaped chain was coiled round his neck, tethering him to the far side of the balcony.

The rumble of voices from the dragons in the city square now rose to a roar. Cries of "Queen Nefertari!" and "Our Queen!" were heard amongst the clamour. The sandy brown Earth Dragon listened to the voices for a few moments, then raised her tail for silence. Almost immediately, the dragons in the square became quiet.

"Dragons of the realms," the Earth Dragon said, a small smile on her face, "Warfang is a beautiful city, is it not?"

There were a few hesitant murmurs of assent, as if the dragons below were not sure whether Queen Nefertari expected an answer.

"It is known as the Dragon City," she went on, "and it was built in ancient times by the moles, who recognised the power and glory of the dragons. The city square we now stand in is flawless, untouched since those ancient times." Suddenly the smile fell from her face, and her voice grew dark. "Yet look to the east."

At her command, the crowd of dragons turned their heads to the left. Whilst great, grand towers stood high to their west, to their east the buildings fell away into a ruin of crumbled, charred stone.

"This is what has become of our great city, once a source of pride for all dragons," Queen Nefertari said, making the dragons turn their heads back to her. She lashed her long barbed tail and her voice grew angry. "I ask you, my loyal subjects. Who has done this?"

The cries of the dragons, which had before been eager and admiring, now turned hostile and furious. "The Purple Dragon!" they roared. "The Dark Master! Malefor!"

"You are correct, my friends. The Purple Dragon did this," she spat. "Using his unnatural powers, the Dark Master turned on all dragonkind and laid waste to the city, to the realms. Can you truly say that you are surprised? The destiny of the purple dragon, after all, is to destroy the world." Queen Nefertari paused to let her words sink in. "Thanks to our ancestors," she went on, "the Dark Master is no more. But this peace will not last, my subjects. For there lives a second purple dragon, as unnatural, arrogant and dangerous as the first. Like the Dark Master, he believes his black powers entitle him to rule over dragonkind…"

Queen Nefertari did not go on, for she was interrupted by the elderly Ice Dragon tethered on the balcony. Whilst she had been talking, the Ice Dragon had simply stood with his head bowed, looking bruised, dirty and defeated. Now he suddenly reared up onto his hind legs, struggling against the snake chain that held him back, his wings extended so he looked twice his size.

"Spyro is nothing like Malefor!" the Ice Dragon snarled at her.

One of the armoured dragons flanking Queen Nefertari struck him down with a powerful blow of his tail. He planted his paws on the Ice Dragon's back, pinning him to the ground. "Silence!"

"Oh, that's quite all right," Queen Nefertari said to the guard, her voice as silky as running sand. "The Ice Dragon makes a good point. I've heard tales of how the Second Purple Dragon is noble, kind and courageous. It would be dishonest to suppose otherwise - and I only speak the truth."

She turned back to the crowd of dragons beneath the balcony.

"But I ask you this, my friends. Was the Dark Master, too, not noble, kind and courageous in his youth? Was he not so admired by his peers that a statue of him was built in the Dragon Temple, where he trained? And did any of this stop him from becoming the most malevolent, power-hungry and delusional dragon the realms has ever known?"

Shouts of agreement came from below her.

"I ask you this, my friends. How long will it be before his unnatural power deludes him into thinking he is a god? How long will it be before he turns his cursed elemental abilities on us? How long will it be before he decides that he must fulfil his destiny where Malefor failed, and destroy the world?"

Dragons in the town square reared up onto the hind legs, roaring and flapping their wings in assent. Queen Nefertari raked her gaze across them, her eyes unreadable. She paced up and down the length of the balcony.

"Already, the Purple Dragon has begun his descent into darkness. They say that when he grows angry, he becomes a monster – that his scales turn black as night, and his breath turns his victims to stone. For a mate, he has taken none other than the dragon that burned down your homes and murdered your families. Yes, for a mate he has taken none other than the dragon we call the Black Terror, Cynder!"

"Scum!" cried one or two of the dragons in the square below, spitting flames onto the stone ground. Others hung their heads sorrowfully, as if the memories of what Cynder had done to them were too painful to bear.

"By taking the Black Terror as his mate, the Purple Dragon insults us in ways unimaginable," Queen Nefertari went on. "That he expects her to rule at his side – yes, rule over the very dragons whose lives she destroyed – is abhorrent. But an even worse enemy surrounds us, my friends – one whose crimes are more shameful than the Purple Dragon and the Black Terror combined." The Earth Dragon gave a small smile and flicked her tail. "Guards, bring forward the Ice Dragon."

Together, the armoured guards brought the Ice Dragon to the front of the balcony, one guard pulling at the Ice Dragon's chain with his teeth, the other prodding him forwards with his horns. The Ice Dragon struggled furiously; he opened his jaws, as if to blast the guards with Ice Breath, but nothing came out except an exhausted pant. Queen Nefertari watched his fruitless efforts, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"My subjects, there is no enemy more dangerous than the Guardians," Queen Nefertari cried. "Oh, they say they exist to protect us. But their words are nothing more than lies." The Earth Dragon spat the word'lies' like venom. "No – the Guardians are the dragons responsible for this terrible, pointless war! The Guardians encouraged the Dark Master into becoming the unnatural monster he was. The Guardians failed to stop the Dark Armies from taking Cynder's egg, allowing her to become the malevolent monster she is. And after questioning my prisoner here, I fear I must bring you the worst news of all." She raised her voice to a roar. "My friends, the Guardians are the reason none of your children were found after the war. All of the eggs born in the Year of the Dragon were smashed. Yes, whilst the Guardians were busy protecting the Purple Dragon's egg, they allowed all of your eggs, your children, to be destroyed!"

Cries of horror went up from the crowd. One dragon howled in misery, burying her face in another dragon's wing: "Our children," she moaned.

Queen Nefertari watched the crowd, her eyes glittering with triumph. Then she stomped her paws on the Ice Dragon's back, slamming him to the balcony floor.

"Do you have any words to say in your defence, Master Cyril?" she cried.

Cyril simply watched the crowd, horrified, as if he couldn't believe the crowd calling for his death were the dragons he'd risked his life to protect. Queen Nefertari paused for heartbeat, as if waiting for an answer. Then raised her long, sinuous tail and stabbed the barbed end through Cyril's skull.

Blood pooled on the balcony floor, sharp red against dusty brown. The Ice Dragon jerked once then lay still, his eyes still open and horrified.

Cyril, the Guardian of Ice, was dead.