A/N: Sorry that it's been so long since I uploaded the last chapter. Writer's Block is the bane of my life. I'll try to write these more quickly, but I'm not promising anything.

I'm not too proud of this chapter, but my Beta-Reader "Fire Shallows" seems to think it's fine.

Chapter 1:

Dawn of the Dragon

Blackness. No matter which way he turned his gaze, he could see nothing. Absolutely nothing whatsoever. There was no way to gain even a hint as to where he was, aside from the fact that he appeared to be lying on his front on hard, solid ground.

A scraping sound drew his attention and he tensed, painfully aware that there was someone, or something, in the darkness. The scraping continued, and a brief flicker of light a few feet away temporarily illuminated his surroundings, although not enough to get a good enough picture of the area. Another flicker, brighter this time, again brought a brief glimpse of light. The scraping increased in rapidity, giving off more frequent bursts of light, and he could see a figure crouching on the ground trying to start a fire.

"Who's there?" Spyro called out, trying hard to sound a lot braver than he felt. The scraping stopped, and the world became shrouded in darkness once more. After several tense moments, a voice answered him from within the black void, deeper and yet less harsh than he had been expecting.

"Do not be frightened, young dragon", it said, "I am a friend. I mean you no harm." The scraping continued, even more vigorously until, with a soft whoosh, the area around him became considerably warmer and a faint, flickering light met Spyro's eyes, allowing him to see the figure properly for the first time.

A tall, bipedal creature stood in front of him, a large crimson cloak draped over his well-toned body. He had orange fur dotted with patches of black, and his face had a feline look to it. A hunting bow and quiver of arrows were slung over his shoulder.

"Uh… I don't mean to be rude," Spyro stammered, slowly and achingly getting to his feet. "But who… and what… are you?"

"Ah, forgive my lack of introduction." The feline bowed his head in a sign of respect. "I am a cheetah from the land of Avalar. My name is Hunter."

"Hunter…" The name sounded familiar, although it took several moments for Spyro to remember why. "You were a prisoner on that pirate ship! You wrote a letter to me, warning me that the Ape King was hunting me!"

The cheetah cracked a small smile. "I am glad to know that you remember one small deed after all of these years."

The euphoria at figuring out the stranger's identity faded from Spyro's mind as panic began to take over. What does he mean, "After all of these years"? I escaped from the Fellmuth only a few days ago! He looked to Hunter for an explanation, but the cheetah merely shook his head and said "I will explain later. It will be a lot easier for me to tell you when your companions are awake." He gestured to the two prone figures lying a few feet away from the purple dragon, which, up until that point, had gone completely unnoticed by him.

It took no time at all for Spyro to recognise them; the golden dragonfly, who looked dull and lifeless without emitting his usual soft glow; the dragoness his age, with glossy black scales, two rows of ivory horns and ruby red wings.

"Sparx!" Spyro called out, rushing towards his friends. "Cynder! Are you ok?" He gently nudged his dragonfly foster brother with his paw, before shaking Cynder's shoulder, desperately trying to rouse them both. After several agonising moments, during which Hunter tended the fire to ensure it didn't go out, Sparx groaned, lazily stretching out and flapping his wings as his body began to light up.

"Ugh… did I oversleep again?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as he began to hover at eye level with Spyro, who simply rolled his eyes, glad the dragonfly was awake and his annoying, joking self.

"No, Sparx, you didn't oversleep. You were just unconscious for a while." Spyro answered, before bobbing his head in Cynder's direction. "Help me wake her up."

"Why should I try to wake up the evil she-dragon who tried to kill us and led us to this god-forsaken place?" Sparx complained loudly as Spyro walked over to the unconscious form of the young dragoness. "It seems to me that I should-"

"Sparx," Spyro interrupted, annoyed at the dragonfly's unhelpfulness. "Stop talking. Either help me wake her up, or go do something useful." He then started shaking Cynder by the shoulder again and whispered her name into her ear frill as Sparx flew over to the fire, muttering to himself. After several minutes of gentle coaxing, the dragoness' eyes wearily fluttered open and she groaned. He slowly helped her to her feet and breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she was unharmed.

"Spyro?" She mumbled, visibly struggling to remain standing. "What happened? Where are we?"

"I'm not sure, Cynder. Maybe Hunter can explain it to us." Spyro replied, supporting her with his wing.

"Hunter?" Cynder asked, utterly perplexed, as the purple dragon led her to the recently-lit fire. "Who's Hunter?"

"That would be me" the cheetah spoke, looking up from his work of skinning a large wolf to face the two dragons, who sat down by the fire. He then said to Spyro, "Shall I get started?"

Spyro nodded, eager to hear Hunter's explanation. This should help to clear some things up.

"There is no easy way to tell you this, friends," Hunter sighed, "but… you've been gone from the world for over seven years."

Cynder gasped; Sparx gaped silently, trying in vain to find the correct words to express himself in this situation; Spyro merely said "How?"

"I… I'm not sure exactly, but…" Hunter hesitated, as if unsure how to best word his explanation. "…When I found you, the three of you were frozen in that giant crystal over there." He pointed to the remains of a colossal crystal, the centre completely shattered, the exterior still sturdy enough to support a large mass of rock above it. "That was over seven years ago. I've been here ever since."

The sight of the crystal seemed to trigger something within Spyro's mind, and he was temporarily overwhelmed as a flood of memories washed over him:

The young dragon looked up in apprehension at the demonic mountain, the peak warped like a mouth, firing a beam of purple energy into the sky and reaching all the way up to the twin moons, only a few hours away from meeting at an eclipse that would shroud the world in darkness.

Countless foul, rotting creatures swarmed the island amidst the green lake, lusting to spill the blood of the only living thing in their wake.

The purple dragon's body was filled with energy from the eclipse and became wrapped in deep, black shadows, and mercilessly poured wave upon wave of dark energy at the large ape standing before him.

The innermost chamber of the mountain began to collapse in a cascade of rock and metal, and the words of the Chronicler echoed within the young dragon's head as his body began to glow with a brilliant orange aura:

"Ride out this storm, and live to fight another day."

XXX

"Spyro?"

He couldn't believe this. He had been frozen for seven years!

"Spyro?"

What had changed in that time? How far had the Dark Master's forces spread?

The Dark Master…

"Spyro!"

The Chronicler had said that the Dark Master would be freed that night. Cold, irreplaceable fear gripped his heart like a steel vice. He's free. The Dark Master has been free for seven years. He's had more than enough time to-

"SPYRO!"

"What?"

Inches from his face, Sparx was hovering in front of his eyes, wearing an irritable expression. Cynder and Hunter were looking at him with a mixture of apprehension and concern.

"Are you ok? You kinda just zoned out for moment. I know this is tough to take in, but-"

"Hunter," Spyro interrupted, choosing his next words carefully to try to remain as calm as possible. "The Dark Master… has he…"

The cheetah nodded gravely. "I am afraid so. He returned shortly after your disappearance. Although none of us have seen him in the flesh as of yet, his forces have greatly increased in number and have fought more fiercely than they have for generations. The world has become a much darker place, Spyro."

The reality of what had happened hit Spyro with the force of an ape's hammer, and he was momentarily lost for words, before finally being able to say what was on his mind. "I… I've failed… They were all counting on me, and I failed… The entire world was counting on me, and I FAILED!" Anger replaced his sorrow as he said this, stunning the others at his sudden outburst. "How could I have let this happen!? I was supposed to save the world, but instead, I abandoned it to Him!" He turned away from his friends, unable to look at them as shame and rage threatened to overwhelm him.

"Spyro…" The tenderness with which Cynder spoke his name forced Spyro to look around as the dragoness stood beside him and draped her wing over his back. "You shouldn't blame yourself. It was beyond your control. It's not your fault."

Spyro felt there was some truth to her words, but this didn't help him feeling responsible for the state the world was in now… however bad that was…

He suddenly didn't want to be around them anymore.

"Leave me alone." He said harshly, brushing Cynder's wing aside with one of his own and walking away from the fire, stopping to collapse onto the ground only when he was a good distance away. Conflicting emotions boiled within Spyro like the fiery magma from the Munitions Forge as he tried to get to sleep, but over all of them, one thought raged inside of his head:

I have failed.