Chapter 1: Waking Nightmares

Darkness still enshrouded the land when Cynder awoke. A starlit sky greeted her after a dreamless, tranquil sleep. She rose, feeling strangely weightless. Where was she? What time was it?

Suddenly the ground beneath her trembled violently and, one by one, the stars were smothered by inky shadows. The night sky somehow turned darker, almost as if a massive dark claw was reaching across the land. Cynder had no idea what was going on but instinct told her that she didn't want to be anywhere near here to witness what was about to happen. She ran.

She ran as hard and fast as she could, trying with all her being to get away from the shadows that pursued her. She had no idea where she was going. She didn't know how far she'd come. It was like running through an endless void. All of a sudden, a mountain loomed before her.

She knew this place-the fortress where she'd been raised, the dreadful place the Apes had called the Mountain of Malefor...

At the mere thought of his name, a wave of fear washed over Cynder, paralyzingly every fibre of her being, chilling her to her very soul and leaving her rooted to the spot, unable even to cry out!

"There is no escape," a mocking voice called out from behind her, harsh like a crack of thunder. "There is no escape from my power."

Cynder knew the voice. It was one she had hated and loathed for years. It was one that had held her in its thrall, forced her to commit horrifying atrocities and unspeakable crimes. It was the voice of the Dark Master.

"Y-you ca-can't be here. S-s-spyro s-stopped you," she managed to stammer through her clenched teeth. This couldn't be happening. Stark terror coursed through her entire body, eclipsing all rational thought.

"It is of no consequence," Malefor's voice boomed. "For soon I will return."

Suddenly, the moon-the last light in the sky-went black. A huge figure loomed in the backdrop-a vaguely dragonlike shape but infinitely more massive than any normal dragon should've been. It reared its head, crowned with cruel horns, and opened its maw, filled with stalactite-like fangs, and roared in triumph. The murky shadow of its tattered wings blotted out the sky and a black skeletal claw stretched forth and seized her in its crushing grasp.

As she was caught up and dragged away, Malefor spoke again. "You will never escape your fate, Cynder."

Then the inky black shadows engulfed her, smothering her, choking her, blinding her. She could do nothing but wait for the end as everything went dark.

Cynder's eyes snapped open instantly and she sat up with a jolt. Her breath came in shallow, rapid gasps. A blank, featureless stone ceiling greeted her after her restless sleep. She took a deep breath, relieved. It had all just been a dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare. She got up, feeling sore all over. It all came back to her now. She was in the Dragon Temple. It was probably either close to midnight or very early in the morning judging by the lack of light from her window.

The nightmares had plagued her for so long that she was surprised she was still scared by them at all. And every night, it had been the same nightmare. Years of being the Dark Master's favourite tool of destruction had left their mark on her.

She lashed out a claw at the wall in frustration. Her talons tore jagged scars in the stone but it barely made Cynder feel any better. It wasn't her fault! She had never asked for any of this. She didn't even belong in this place. It had all been decided before she'd even hatched. She'd been stolen from her home by dragons who had believed that she had a part to play in some ridiculous prophecy to end a war she had no part in. But not everyone had been keen on allowing the outcome of the war to be decided by a group of 'prophecy dragons'.

So one such dragon, Burn, perhaps the most vicious and bloodthirsty dragon Cynder had had the misfortune of knowing, had intercepted her egg and thrown it off a cliff, intending for all hope in the prophecy to die with her. Death would've been a mercy compared to what came next.

An Ape from a distant land, the Dragon Realms, had stumbled upon her as she lay on death's doorstep. Out of sympathy, or perhaps in accordance with the dark will of his master, the Assassin had brought her back with him and Malefor had been able to drag her back from the brink of death. His dark magic had saved her life but inadvertently it had twisted her and warped her to the point where she was unrecognizable as a SkyWing.

Malefor had spent the next years deceiving her, moulding her into a weapon which he then used to subjugate the Realms. She had unknowingly enacted terrible deeds in his name and by the time she realised Malefor's true nature, it was too late for his grip over her had been made absolute.

But in the end, no matter how hard she wanted to believe that everything hadn't been her doing, she found herself confronted by the despairing knowledge that it wasn't true. She had to acknowledge the grudging satisfaction she'd felt in the power she'd wielded as Malefor's greatest servant. It wasn't just satisfying, it had been intoxicating! To her horror, she had actually felt a small part of herself enjoying the havoc that she wreaked, the fact that others had been at her mercy when she had none to offer. In a way, she had no longer been the victim.

She knew she could've resisted Malefor-she'd done it at the final battle. She should've fought him harder, she should've been stronger than she had been. Whenever she looked at her sick, sorry past, she felt anger boiling alongside the grief, a hatred of an enemy who'd turned her into a weapon.

And that was why things would never play out like they had in her nightmare. She wouldn't cower when Malefor came for her, she wouldn't try to run. She would stand her ground and make him bleed for what he'd done to her, she would fight the battle she should've fought long ago.

Cynder got up, shaking her head. The still air in her room was stifling and she needed to get out into the open to clear her mind. Quietly, she opened her door, careful not to make too much noise. The others-the Guardians and Spyro-were probably still asleep now. They'd been kind to her; in spite of everything she'd done, they'd forgiven her and taken her in. It was the least she could do not to wake them.

She crept through the halls of the Dragon Temple as eerie shadows danced and stalked in the moonlight, like so many talons reaching out from the darkness. Much of the Temple was still foreign to her-it hadn't felt right to prowl after her hosts had so graciously accepted her. She turned a corner to one spot she knew well-the balcony that overlooked the nearby swamplands. There, she saw the last dragon she'd been expecting.

"Spyro?" she whispered.

He wheeled around to face her, his entire body tense. "Oh, Cynder," he said, relieved. "It's you. Sorry, you had me startled."

"What're you doing up this late?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep," she said shortly.

"Oh," he said simply. By now he'd gotten used to how Cynder usually never spoke much. He stayed silent and moved to one side of the balcony so she could have her own space.

Cynder tried to speak but no words came. She hadn't intended to come across as being so cold and distant. Spyro had saved her from Malefor and, deep down, she was really grateful for that. He'd undone all the enchantments the Dark Master had put on her to accelerate her growth and returned her to her normal form as a SkyWing dragonet, albeit one with black scales. He'd looked past her misdeeds without a moment's hesitation, despite her past efforts to kill him. He'd been kind and open to her but she had simply turned aside each time. But it wasn't that she held any grudges from their past enmity, she had no idea how to talk to him face to face!

What was she to say? 'Thanks for freeing me from Malefor. You were great back there!' or 'You did a great job changing me back. I'm just a little sad that the black scales have to stay.' No, that would be ridiculous. Still, perhaps she could be just a bit more outgoing.

"So what're you doing here at this hour?" she inquired, trying to sound as conversational as possible.

"I couldn't sleep either," he said, sounding mildly surprised. "It might sound silly coming from me but nightmares have been keeping me up the past few nights."

"No, not at all," Cynder said darkly, recalling her own troubled dreams. "I understand."

"It's as if something's lurking just on the edge of my vision," he continued. "Some kind of nameless threat waiting to strike but watching from the shadows for now. I don't know what it is but I'm afraid the Dark Master may be returning."

"Is that so?" Cynder asked, stifling her shock. Her nightmare had borne similar tidings. It was too much of a coincidence, she decided. She'd need to talk to one of the Guardians about it.

Spyro nodded gravely. "I'm not afraid of him," he said though he sounded uncertain, almost as if he was trying to convince himself. "But I fear for everyone else who can't defend themselves. Like my family."

"Your family?" Cynder asked. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen anyone who even looked vaguely related to Spyro.

"Not my real family," Spyro told her. "Ignitus tells me that when I was still an egg, the Dark Master's followers attacked the grotto. They smashed all the other eggs there. Mine only barely escaped thanks to Ignitus."

"I was found by a family of dragonflies," he said. "Hard to believe, right? Well I was raised by them alongside my foster brother, Sparx. Believed my whole life I was a dragonfly until I discovered the Dragon Temple. I never really got to know who my parents were or whether they're still alive."

"I'm sorry," Cynder said. She thought back to her own mother, the SkyWing Queen, Scarlet. She'd believed that Scarlet had wanted her dead so she'd have no challengers for her throne but she had later found out that it had all been another of Malefor's lies and that Scarlet had been searching for her tirelessly after she'd disappeared. She barely knew her at all. And now they were worlds apart. "I really am. It must be terrible."

Spyro nodded. "It is," he said. He seemed to like having someone to confide in, Cynder thought. And she felt better too. She wasn't alone. Spyro had been through circumstances almost identical to her's. Maybe this was somebody who could understand her after all. But she felt that she had to lift the mood.

"Hey, how about we start training together tomorrow?" she asked, trying to change the subject. "I know I could use a bit of practice. So that when Malefor does show his craven face, we'll both be ready?"

"If you're up to it that is," she added.

"Yeah, sure!" Spyro said. "It'll feel good to be doing something other than just waiting around for him to make the next move."

"Meanwhile, try to get some sleep," she said. "I'd rather not be fighting a dragon half-asleep."

"I will," Spyro said with a smile, turning to walk away. "I don't know about you but I'm looking forward to it."

"Yeah, me too," she said. And she meant it.