Disclaimer: I don't own ANY characters of TLOS, the only character I own is Ivor.

Shadow scales

It was a dark night.

The skies were pitch black and (with the exception of the moon) the there was a huge abundance of clouds that filled the skies, they were as blacker than the skies they occupied and seemed way darker than any normal cloud and there were no stars peppering the skyline in the slightest. The sky was hauntingly as deep and dark as an ocean of black ink, in spite of the clouds. The lands of Avalar below were just as silent as the rest of the night with not even a cricket to chirp like they did every night. There was, however, a slight slither of wind that blew and caused a soft whistling whisper of a noise but that was all in regards to whether or not the plains were quiet or not.

The two heroes of Avalar, Spyro the purple dragon and Cynder the black dragoness, had become lovers after saving the world from breaking apart during an attempt by Malefor to destroy the world. They made their home just outside of Warfang, only after returning from some sort of place that seemed to transcend between Avalar and any other world. It took some time for the pair to recover their strength until they managed to return to Avalar and they were greeted with a heroes welcome.

As they grew from whelplings to adults, both Cynder and Spyro had not only grown in size but their bodies (Cynder's especially) had seemed to lengthen.

Spyro had a pair of additional horns emerge from the sides of his faces and he had a pair of frill-like ears also sprout from his head. His body became more bulky and his shoulders and legs became more muscular. His wings even grew bigger to support his larger body.

Cynder looked a lot like the form she had taken on as her corrupted self, only less monstrous and more like an average-sized full grown dragoness. She had a long neck and her muzzle and body had become slightly more serpentine-like as she matured. Somehow her metal anklets and her necklace grew with her body did. Her wings grew in span and teal eyes had become more kind and her scythe-like tail had sharpened. She wore a nice crystal pendant around her neck which attached to the metal bangle worn around her neck.

The years flew by while the two had married eventually settled down and had decided to start raising a family together. They made their home just outside of Warfang and Spyro's adopted brother, Sparx the dragonfly, had even moved in with the happy couple, much to Cynder's (slight) chagrin…

Cynder and Spyro both lay in their bed, their bodies heavy on the plush mattress they lay on. Their eyes were closed and their snouts touched in their sleep. Their bodies were heavy as they slept soundly, their minds blank and their bodies feeling like a ton of lead, preventing them from moving, as they were dead to the world and sound asleep.

The two dragons hadn't slept very well at all as of late.

They appeared as if they had both been swallowed by the Well of souls itself and spat them back out again. Both of their eyes were red, pulsated and bloodshot with the added dark bags (Cynder's bags were pitch black and Spyro's were a dark plum colour) sagging beneath both of them. Their postures would sag so much that the two dragons came close to hitting the floor with the force of a sack of rocks the instant they stood up and their wings felt like they were made of lead. It was a miracle that the two heroes of Avalar could still speak in coherent sentences, actually!

Cynder was sleeping like a log as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of the bed. She had her forelegs folded beneath her chin as she snored aloud with her mouth slightly agape, still looking so graceful somehow, as she dozed right on through. Her snores were quiet and her breathing was as light as air. Her long neck and head rested against the plush mattress and she wore a small, peacefully plaintive smile on her muzzle.

Spyro, like his beloved mate, slept soundly on the shared bed. He lay on his stomach instead of his side and his claws were digging into the plush mattress of his bed as always. His wings were folded against his back and his tail coiled around both himself and the slumbering Cynder next to him. All four of his legs were spread out, the front ones were stretched out underneath him and the back ones were pulled forwards clumsily.

The two heroes of Avalar smiled softly in their sleep…until a familiar noise had sounded.

A faint high-pitched screeching sound carried across the house and into the bedroom, arousing both dragons from their sweet slumber.

It had been a few weeks since the two dragons witnessed their egg hatch into a white dragon, a dragon so rare that there were so very few in existence —a dragon even more legendary than a purple dragon. Spyro and Cynder had named their son Ivor in honour of his ivory white scales and, even when the new parents revealed him to the guardians, they had no clue as to what potential abilities were inside their tiny whelp.

It would have been a huge fib if one were to claim that Spyro and Cynder weren't concerned about what their child could potentially go through with his abilities but they also decided not to worry about it too much, since they had made the decision to cross to that bridge when they get to it.

Spyro was the first of the two to hear the shrill cries of his son.

One of his eyes cracked open and he glanced over to the black dragon laying beside him whilst he shifted himself while he readjusted his position to get more comfortable although he was still finding it hard to peel his eyelids apart.

"Cyn, can you go see what Ivor needs?" He grumbled, his words trying to conceal a yawn.

Cynder gave a nod slow as she started to move and hefted herself off the bed. It was a bit of a struggle to get to her feet and stand up, especially when it came to separating herself from the nice cozy blankets of the bed, but she tried her best to ignore the temptation to slide herself back beneath the covers and resume sleeping so she could go check on her baby.

The dragoness eventually got to her feet and started to make a fatigued, clumsy meander out of the bedroom.

The former Terror of the skies navigated herself well in the blackened hallways of the upstairs of the home in which she and her mate dwelled, due to having the ability to see in the dark. Eventually she came to a staircase and stepped down it. Cynder meandered down the staircase and stepped down each step until she eventually made it to the bottom of the staircase. She made sure her tall yet graceful and slender physique didn't impede in her task by making sure she inadvertently hit the wall or knocked a piece of furniture with her tail. She kept her eyes forwards and crept through the hallways, using the sounds of screeches to guide her as she neared the nursery in which her son occupied.

Upon reaching the door, she used her snout to nudge it open and beheld her hatchling's nursery.

The nursery had floors were made of polished marble and the walls were made from rocky bricks fixed together with concrete that were softly alit by flame-lit torches which were attached to said walls. The other items inside of the nursery consisted of a large nest made of twigs, a big campfire nestled right in the middle of the room and other necessities a baby dragon needed. In the middle of the room, hanging from the ceiling, there was a nicely-crafted little cradle with a soft mobile hanging atop it which even played a soft little melody as it slowly spun around and on the floor beneath said mobile was a rickety old wicker basket with a soft little cushioned area in which the baby dragon slept.

Cynder had arrived to find a sight that made her heart ache:

Her and Spyro's tiny whelp, baby Ivor, was asleep but he was twitching and whimpering softly. He was laying in the nest while nestled comfortably among the twigs and straw, laying on his back with all four legs twitching in the air with his tiny wings flapping reflexively and his tail with the scythe-tipped tip wiggling.

Ivor's scales were as white as freshly fallen snow. He had two yellow horns (which were nubs right now) growing out top of his head and another two protruding from each side of his face. He had purple eyes and a flat, almost shovel-like snout both of which he had clearly inherited from his father. He had a crimson red underbelly which matched his wings and he had a scythe on his tail, just like his mother's. He resembled Spyro quite a bit.

Due to the contortions on her son's face, Cynder could easily sense his fear.

The dragoness wondered what torments could possibly be haunting her baby's mind. As a mother, all she wanted to do was chase her child's fears away and scare them off for good. She wanted to protect her baby. She wanted to keep him safe from all harm (whether it be mental or physical). She spent all her time with Malefor being the worlds worst nightmare —if anyone was an expert on the subject of fear, it would be Cynder herself…

"Awww, baby…" Cynder called out softly.

Her voice was soft and soothing but slightly raspy due to fatigue and lack of sleep. She hung her head, closed her eyes and cleared her throat to try and rid her throat of the metaphorical frog residing in it before lifting her head back up and opening her eyes again.

The tiny hatchling's screeching seemed to quieten a bit when Cynder spoke.

Upon sleepily lumbering through the threshold of the doorway, the black dragoness made her way towards the basket and lowered herself to down on her haunches as she craned her long neck so she could stare down at her teeny tiny son. Her own tail coiled itself around her own body, weaving itself through her legs like a needle and thread through a piece of cloth. Every time she and her whelp shared the same space, Cynder would feel her heart swell inside her chest with love and adoration; that sensation of love would spread from the top of her head to the tip of her tail and it would always leave a soft and serene smile on her long muzzle.

Even though she was tired and loved her babe, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness when she saw him frightened or was in the midst of a nightmare...

Ivor just kept whimpering and letting out soft screeching noises.

Finally, Cynder was standing over the basket in which Ivor lay whilst her teal eyes softened in concern.

Ever since becoming a mother, the former terror of the skies had found that her love for her hatchling had gone deeper then anything that she had ever knew. Not only that but on the odd occasion she found herself wondering what kind of powers and abilities this child would have?

Before she was exposed to the Dark Master's poisonous powers, she had been born a wind dragon…the last wind dragon in existence, actually, and while she retained those abilities, she didn't know what powers lay dormant within her child. Since he was half purple dragon, it was guaranteed that this whelp would be special and, since this child was a white dragon, nobody knew what sort of powers this child had.

But Cynder had another worry regarding this subject…

She, herself, had been corrupted by the Dark Master Malefor so what would happen if not only her innocent baby Ivor inherits her powers of darkness but also becomes corrupted, just like she did? That would be a disastrous scenario! What if he followed that temptation, what if he becomes hated by the other dragons? She wouldn't have been able to bare it if Ivor did follow that temptation.

The thought of such a thing caused several tremors to ride down her spine.

The black dragoness shook her head violently whilst glaring at her own thought process, causing her train of thought to fly off the tracks and then crash.

No!

She shouldn't be thinking like that!

There was no way that would happen…right?

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she kept looking down at the whimpering Ivor whom had apparently finally took notice of his mother's presence and stopped screeching. His purple eyes were huge as tears pricked at the corners.

"Did you have a bad dream, little one?" Crooned Cynder.

The only answer she got was a single chirp (a chirp which Cynder took as confirmation) as Ivor made an attempt to rub his eyes with his fore claws to rid them of the tears that irritated them. He sobbed and sniffled a bit but never took his eyes off of the huge motherly dragoness looming over him yet his mouth quivered with upset.

Cynder's eyes softened with sympathy and she leaned down to rub her long snout against her son's small face, nuzzling him.

"Awww…I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Would you coming into our bed help?"

Ivor didn't make a sound this time but he did cock his head to one side with confusion glistening in his eyes. His tiny podgy body squirmed and he waved his small stubby fore paws in the air as though reaching up and asking to be picked up and carried.

Cynder didn't hesitate to oblige.

She reached her head down, opened her mouth, closed it around a tiny bit of stretchy scales on the back of Ivor's tiny neck and proceeded to pick him up by the scruff of the neck —carrying him in her mouth.

With a slight haste in her walk, the ex-Terror of the skies (once again utilising her ability to see in the dark) retraced her original steps and made her way back downstairs. She was careful not to trip over herself so as to fall with baby Ivor still hanging from her mouth and risk harming him should he hit the ground and get hurt. She took great care as she ascended up the stone staircase.

The dragoness could hear as her own steps made a soft "pad, pad, pad" sound with each step she took up that reverberated and echoed in the space surrounding both herself and Ivor.

Once standing at the top of the staircase, Cynder walked back down the hall to reach the bedroom where her mate continued to sleep soundly. Spyro snored sleepily as he had both eyes closed and he was snoring so little smoke vapours rose from his nostrils up towards the ceiling, giving a clouded effect to the room and making it so the atmosphere of the bedroom carried the slightest aroma of fire and embers that clung to the air stubbornly.

Cynder approached the huge bed, Ivor still hanging from her mouth by the back of his neck.

"Hey, Spyro," Cynder called out although her words were muffled due to her carrying her whelp in her mouth. "Ivor's gonna sleep with us for tonight. Is that alright?"

Spyro seemed to awaken slightly after hearing his mates words and noticed the tiny white-scaled whelp hanging from her mouth. He was the epitome of exhaustion right now so his mind was way more sluggish and not capable of absorbing information as it usually was. It took him a few moments to figure out what was happening and decided he had no issues, just as long as the household could return to their peaceful slumbers.

The purple dragon stretched both his front claws out and gave a huge, lion-like yawn as his mouth opened wide before he snapped his jaws shut and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and was gave a long grunt. He flapped his wings reflexively, arched his back by pushing both his back legs to get himself semi-standing up and into a "downward dog" yoga position. He could feel as the muscles, bones and tendons all stretched, twisted and crackled until they let out that final satisfying click.

He then slumped down and returned to his normal sleep position on the mattress.

"Auuugh…." He moaned once more, more out of the aftermath of that crack in his muscles then anything. "Alright. I'll move over then."

He did just that and budged over while moving his huge body towards the edge of the left side of the bed to allow Cynder entry.

The black dragoness lay back down on the mattress, coiling her lengthy body around on the mattress. She plopped Ivor down on the mattress so he could lay down in between both his mother and father and he instantly curled up into a small ball and closed his eyes to return to sleep. Cynder smiled at the adorable sight as she lay her head down on the pillow and closed her eyes as her throat started emitting a low, growling vibration of a sound —it sounded like a cats purr.

Within moments, Ivor started to snore contently.

Cynder relaxed and closed her eyes as she was about to succumb to the need to drown in his deep sleep once more. Even though she hadn't been up long, she knew that she should get some more sleep. Her mind was still running rampant with those earlier inquiries about what sort of abilities Ivor would have as a white dragon…and what sort of dragon would her son grow up to become?

However, as the family of three were swept off into a state of deep sleep, something strange yet rather ominous happened:

Ivor remained curled up in his sleepy ball as a dark aura started to surround his sleeping form, giving him a somewhat shadowy appearance while his scales started to darken from its snowy white shade into a darker storm cloud gray colour. As that dark aura continued to build around Ivor, brewing, it became abundantly clear that something was going to happen.

This was an ominous omen of what was to come.

A/N: Hi, everyone. I thought it was about time I make a full fledged story from my one-shot series, Scales. This is about Ivor and how he not only discovers his abilities but also goes through something that proves to be his parents worst nightmare.

I hope you guys enjoy this story because I've got plans for it.

-Chloemcg