Disclaimer: I don't own anything Spyro related that can and will appear in this story.

Nightshade looked beside him and saw that the book was there and a scribbler quill was writing events. He peered over the book and saw that it stopped when the young Nightshade was thrown into a cart and was being taken away.

He sighed and held the side of his face, rubbing the scar that was created by that hit with the Mace. He though to himself, 'Why didn't he warn me this might happen...'

Ignitus walked up to him from behind, "I see you are awake. Have fun?"

Nightshade glared at him, "You didn't tell me I'd get a scar!"

Ignitus sighed and sat beside him, "I'm sorry... Apes don't use Crystals on Dragons. You got that scar because you were never healed in time. And with the way things are appearing, you may get many more. Did this really happen?"

Nightshade nodded, "I took a blow from the Mace. But My father healed me when he heard about it."

Ignitus tilted his head, "Didn't your father order you and your mother's execution?"

Nightshade laid his head down, "I don't know... Should we continue?"

Ignitus pulled the book over to him, "Indeed. Try not to get too beat up in there..."

Nightshade scoffed, "It'll take much more then a few scars to break me. I am A Neolin after all."

/

Nightshade held his head tenderly, trying to keep it still as the cart swayed back and forth. He sighed as he looked at his mother's body, 'Mother... Who would do such a thing to you?'

He rested his head on her, 'You wouldn't just die on me. You wouldn't just leave me here alone... YOU WOULDN'T!'

It wasn't long before he cried himself to sleep.

"Get up young dragon. It is not your time..."

He opened his eyes and gasped, he was on a small floating platform overlooking what appears to be a temple with a small vision pool in the center. He looked around into the cool void around him, "Who are you? where am I?"

The voice spoke to him once more as smaller platforms descended down into the temple, "I am known as the Chronicler. I record history as it unfolds and silently guide important individuals as needed. Welcome to the Realm of the dream young Nightshade."

Nightshade frowned as he started hopping down the platforms, "How do you know me. What do you mean by 'Important?' I'm only a kid. How important could I be?"

The Chronicler spoke to him again, only this time more clearly, "My books tell me about everyone. On occasion, I get glimpses of the future, these lead me to 'personally' intervene. Yours says that it is time for you to learn of your family heritage."

Nightshade tripped off the last platform, falling just before the pool. He dusted himself off and held the side o his face, only to realize that it was healed somewhat, forming a scar. It was as if it had been there for years, "What the!"

He thought he heard a chuckle, "Consider that a gift. Sorry I couldn't do more for you, but Crystals don't heal potential scars on Neolins, they just stop the bleeding. Scars are actually a good thing for your breed, it helps them attract mates."

Nightshade glared, but then realized there was no one to glare at. So instead he peered into the pool, "What is a Neolin?"

Numerous images filled the pool, most were arrows. It was strange to him, like he'd seen it before. The Chronicler then spoke again, "I'm Glad you asked. A Neolin is a rare breed of dragons. While most breathe one element, rarer breeds have the potential to breathe many. Crystal dragons, Adalisks, even Purple Dragons like your father. He was the first recorded case of a Purple Dragon. Although there appear to be some pages missing from that book, I'm going to need to look around a bit."

Nightshade raised an eye ridge, "Hold up a sec, breathe many? I haven't been able to breathe anything but the air in my lungs."

The Chronicler took a few moments to answer, "Sorry, I often get carried away with things. Things you should note, most rare breeds have a mark or some other thing that indicates not only their breed, but their importance. Examples include the Gold marks normally found above Adalisk's eyes, or the average length of the crystal horns and claws on a Crystal Dragon. In a Neolin's case, they normally have arrow symbols somewhere on their body, the higher number of arrows and the more intricate the design, the more powerful they are."

Nightshade growled, "That doesn't explain my breath abilities... Or lack of."

He heard a chuckle again, "You have a lot to learn then. Neolins have the ability to take breaths from other dragons. They can even sense them. Those with ten arrows or more can actually infiltrate another's mind, twist and turn their thoughts. It can be dangerous in the wrong hands. You have eleven... If I am not mistaken, your mark is on your inner thigh, left hind leg."

Nightshade looked back to confirm it, and indeed, the Chronicler was right. He looked back into the pool, "Why haven't I done it then? I'm sure Sanchez would have loved 'wetting' his bed."

The Chronicler smiled back in his cave on the White Isles, "Because young Neolin. Like all dragons, you require the right prompt to use your powers. It will happen in time. Mind you, most rare Dragon breeds have unique breaths that you can't take, such as Crystal. It has been recorded in the book of Adalisks that any breath that they create are only copied by Neolins. There have been many battle between the two breeds. Take heed, they still bere a strong hatred for your kind."

Nightshade tilted his head, "Created? How do they do that?"

The Chronicler pulled out another book and began reading, "Some are made when they feel certain emotions when a breath trigger occurs. Others take years to create out of everyday things, Poison, wind, you name it, the Adalisks probably created it first."

Nightshade looked back into the pool, a serious look in his eyes, "Do you know my fate?"

It wasn't long before he got his answer, "Not entirely, the kind of person you will become is foreshadowed in the cover of your book. Yours is black and ornate with gold highlights. This is common for a great hero. The Back has a giant gash in it, symbolizing a rough life until your eventual death. But fret not, you will not be alone. You will have friends to help you through it."

Nightshade looked away, "I... I think I understand..."

The Chronicler sighed, this is the hardest part with younglings, "I'm sorry about your mother, she was a great person. And an even greater mother."

Nightshade started to tear up, "I loved my mother... Do you know why she died?"

The Chronicler gulped, "I... In my nearly one thousand year existence as the chronicler, I have witness many tragedies. Yours is what was needed to set you on the path you need to be on. I wish there was a different course you could have taken."

Nightshade nodded, tears streaming down his face, "Thank you... I'll become a hero. I'll make my mother proud... Father better have some answers for me."

Nightshade turned and walked out. The dream ended soon after. the Chronicler shed a tear and set Nightshade's book back on the shelf, "Stay strong young Neolin. I just hope my interference didn't doom him to be a martyr."