One Year Ago
Two dragons, one purple and one black, flapped their wings tirelessly until they landed on a large crystal-like piece of stone that was the core of their world.
"Spyro I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," the black dragon spoke softly.
"Don't be… it's over now," the purple dragon replied.
"So this is it?" the black dragon asked as she looked at the crumbling world around them. Before Spyro could respond, a third voice spoke to him. Spyro closed his eyes as he spoke.
"Spyro, when a dragon dies it does not truly leave this world. Its spirit lives on, binding itself to nature, leaving hope for the future" Spyro's eyes burst open with clarity. He turned his head towards the black dragon.
"I know what I have to do. Just get out of here Cynder," Spyro told her.
"Spyro no! You don't have to do anything. Let's just go," she replied.
"Where Cynder? There will be nothing left! The world is breaking apart! But I think I can stop it. I think I'm meant to," Spyro explained.
"Then I'm with you," Cynder added. Spyro's despair turned into relief. He began to hover in midair and glow a bright purple. He felt his energy being drained out of him and forced into the world. Through Spyro's eyes, the world slowly faded to white as three words, whispered by Cynder, echoed in his head.
"I love you." Spyro closed his eyes and braced himself for the end. Then, everything stopped. The violent quaking, the sound of earth shattering, they had simply ceased to exist. Spyro slowly opened his eyes. There was nothing for miles around him. It was just empty fog-like black for miles around him. He still hovered in the air, flapping his wings at a steady pace.
"So, this is the legendary Spyro? This is dragon who will bring balance to the world?" a loud booming voice spoke.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Spyro asked while whisking his head, trying to find the voice's owner.
"The prophecy has not yet reached your ears? How intriguing," the voice replied.
"What are you talking about? What prophecy?"
"It's only your entire heritage. Believe it or not, your sole purpose for living in this world is to fulfill this prophecy."
"I don't believe it."
"What you have done today shall become legend, but that isn't all that your legend contains. To see your legend unfold, to see the true legend of Spyro, this prophecy must carried out."
"What is the prophecy about?" Spyro shouted while flying around, trying to find the speaker.
"You are the prophecy. It dictates that a purple dragon shall be born to vanquish the traitor."
"Then I've done it! Malefor's gone!"
"Incredible, you really are blind to the truth."
"Enough!" Spyro shouted while breathing gouts of fire.
"Very well," the voice spoke. Suddenly, the fog was being sucked into a single point. Spyro stopped his flames and looked where the fog was going. Where the fog was, now stood gray space. Spyro followed what was left of the fog until he reached its destination. A black-hooded figure stood perfectly still as the staff in his left hand absorbed all of the fog in the area. When the fog had completely vanished, the figured slowly turned his head in one direction, then the other, as if to examine his work. Spyro, still hovering, tried landing but as he lowered himself he sunk below the figure. Somehow, the mysterious figure was walking on air.
"Who are you?" Spyro asked again. The figure walked around the hovering dragon and ignored his question.
"Do you see this world? Do you see the gray?" Spyro nodded his head. "The problem with heroes is their perspective. They see the light and the darkness, the good and the evil, the black and the white… but never, do they consider the color that exists in between; or even the simplest gray that lies in the center," he said with his arms outstretched.
"Who… are… you?" Spyro asked once more.
"I am the very first. I am that which balances the black and the white. I am the master of time itself. I… am the Sorcerer," he answered.
"And what do you want me for?" Spyro asked.
"Simple, fulfill the prophecy. Play puppet to fate as you have," he answered.
"I haven't even heard of this prophecy before," Spyro replied.
"It is the prophecy as old as time itself. The ancients themselves wrote it, waiting millions of years for it to unfold. Return to your petty world and continue to play the hero. Soon, the Prophecy of a Thousand Suns will finally be complete; and the world will finally be how it should," The Sorcerer told him.
"I have a feeling that we will meet again," Spyro said, uneasily.
"Yes, we will meet again. But it is up to you to decide how we meet, whether it is on friendly terms or not. You will learn soon enough that your journey is far from over," the Sorcerer replied.
He waved his right hand in front of the crystal ball on his staff and it glowed white. In a bright flash, the world vanished and Spyro was forced into another one. He was still hovering, but now it was over a large green pasture. Seconds later, he was tackled onto the ground. Spyro looked to see what happened and saw Cynder with a huge smile stretched across her face.
"You did it! You saved the world and you saved us!" Cynder exclaimed. She jumped up into the sky and flew around. "I thought I would never see the sun again!" Spyro climbed into the sky behind her.
"I couldn't do it without you," Spyro told her. The two flew circles while facing each other for a few moments. "Did you really mean what you said?" Cynder nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed.
"Do you feel the same Spyro?" Cynder asked.
"Of course I do," Spyro answered. Her face bled with excitement. Suddenly, her thoughts were forced into the back of her mind.
"We… we should probably go see Terrador, Sparx, and the others," she said while taking the lead flight to Warfang. Spyro followed closely behind, with the Sorcerer's words still fresh in his mind.