~Prologue~

Spyro looked around, a chill creeping up his spine. He thought vaguely that he must be dreaming – no place this bizarre could exist in the waking realm, could it?

He was in a great expanse of grey; thick, cold, grey mist clung to everything and felt heavy in his lungs. He certainly couldn't fly in the stuff. He felt almost like he was using dragon time – trying to move through thick molasses.

'Where am I?' He wondered, shivering. Ahead, just vaguely, he thought he saw something – a great shadow.

'…' a voice hissed on the breeze.

The young dragon went rigid – he knew that voice. It was cold, deep and calculating as Death itself. He backed up quickly, squinting at the shadow ahead. 'Is it? It can't be… He's dead. The ancestors killed him! Was everything for nothing?'

A cold chuckle echoed around as the shape crept closer, slinking like a great cat on the prowl. The grey around it began to shade to purple, but it wasn't Spyro's royal purple. It was a dark murky shade, a color that looked like it had never before seen the light of the sun.

Spyro tried to back up again, but suddenly it was like he was trapped in a nightmare. His paws refused to be shifted, even as he tried to force them to move.

'You cannot escape me,' the malicious voice seemed to reverberate through Spyro's very being. As the thing grew closer, Spyro finally got a good look at it. It looked to his eyes like a great shadow, darkening the murky purple mist around it.

"No," Spyro whimpered as the chill seemed to seep into his very soul. He glanced down in horror to see his paws had sunk into the floor, which looked for all the world like a grey storm cloud.

Spyro looked at the great specter before him. It was of a murky purple substance that seemed to leave its form in wisps, to reveal blackness darker than hate. Little more than a silhouette, the shape slunk forward. Two glowing white eyes seemed to bore down upon him, staring into his very soul.

At this point, Spyro had sunk down to his knees. In terror, he desperately leaned back as far as he could, away from the imposing figure as it lowered its long head down towards him. The figure circled the purple dragon, who turned his head sharply, desperately trying to keep the strange spirit in his line of vision.

The creature couldn't be called a dragon; maybe he was once, but not anymore. Hell knows what he was now, but whatever it was, it was no dragon.

'You did this,' the bitter voice growled, 'you meddled with things beyond your comprehension and now you will pay the price.'

The cold intensified as the spirit paced back to stand in front of the purple dragon. Spyro eyed it apprehensively and tried to shoot a beam of convexity from his maw – but nothing emerged from between his white fangs. He tried again with fire, but with the same result – nothing.

'Fool. You cannot use your powers here.' The great shadow crouched in preparation to leap at the younger dragon, who shrunk back in terror. Spyro closed his eyes as the thing crouched, the white light from its eyes intensifying so greatly that it numbed him.

The beast leapt at him, and everything faded into shadow.

(AN)

GG: MWAHAHAHA! Evil, aren't I? Finally Shadows is getting its revamp, hopefully it'll be a large improvement over the original. I still have the rather complex plotline memorized somehow…

Also, I would like to dedicate this prologue to the over eighty people killed in Norway a few days ago, may they rest in peace.

I would also like to thank Riverstyxx for agreeing to beta this, even with her insane schedule.

Thank you so much for reading, reviews would make me incredibly happy, and when I'm happy I tend to update much quicker.

~GoldenGriffiness~