Alright, here it is, the first chapter(finally) of Revelation. Please enjoy.

Shadow Grebacier.

"The search for truth always begins with a lie." -Maka, Daughter of Terrador and keeper of the books

"And this is a true account?" a cloaked figure asked the re-teller after he had finished his story

"As true as the sky." he responded with a wide grin. The figure just nodded and paid the man for his trouble, leaving the saloon in the middle of the capitol city of Warfang, or what was left of it., all of it was a floating mess of land and debris, a permanent scar that constantly reminded the people of what was sacrificed to save it. Even at night, the temple guardians would hole themselves up, to the dismay of their children and grandchildren, just to avoid looking at the deep purple glow emanating from the core of the world. Another reminder.

With a soft sigh the figure entered the inn which served as it's home away from home and walked up to the counter "Still nothing, eh?" the creature behind it asked.

"Yeah, nothing. If you count nothing as another meaningless tale with which no leads are gained." the figure responded throwing his hood back, revealing the reptilian face of a dragon.

"Give up then. Not even the guardians know what happened to the two, or even Ignitus! They seemed to just vanish, and that is a good enough explanation for me." the creature replied tapping a slightly scaled hand on the desk in front of him "Here, you've distracted me for long enough today, find me tonight and we'll talk more then." it said, and the dragon was inclined to agree. Everyone knows how terribly hard it is for Grublins to become a welcome member of society, and make a living, when so many still regard them with hate and distrust. The dragon sighed lightly and made his way up to his room to wait out the remaining hours of daylight connecting what dots revealed themselves, only to find a solid stopping point at one place, the events after the battle of the destroyer. It was there when every account went completely off road, and dabbled in fantasy. There were numerous other points of course, and this latest tale held the least fantasizing, but like the temple services in honor of the great Spyro, and his love Cynder, it went askew by the time it hit the destroyer, leaving him in the dark to contemplate on what could have happened. He hated being in the dark.

When finally going over the written recording of the latest tale, he could tell it's creator didn't have a good storytelling capabilities, nor did the story make sense in some places. But it was the truest account he held so far, and treated it with respect. It was late into the night when the man behind the counter knocked on the door to his room before poking his head into the mess of papers with pits of string tying each paper together. All of this covering a wall, and the dragon was staring at this wall as if it would all burn and be lost forever, his eyes ravenous for details that he would never find in each paper, each account. The last time that Grublin would look at him, he would see an insatiable hunger burning deep within them, a thirst for information he would never receive. That look would haunt him for a time to come "You never dropped by."

"You never came by to let me know." came the terse reply "Had I know I would have wrapped up what I was doing."

The grublin nodded looking at the walls, all having some form of paper on them "You were serious about finding out what happened where you?" he asked as the dragon invited him in

"Very. This one record, this elusive record, stands between the truth, and the fantasy. And the truth can never be more speculated then in this tale. Spyro and Cynder vanishing, no-one to return triumphant, parading through the streets of Warfang like heroes, Ignitus presumed dead. This tale stores one of the greatest mysteries that this world has yet to face, and no-one goes looking for the truth behind the lies. They say they saved us when we don't know what happened. They could have initiated the destruction and Malefor jumped in to stop his world from being destroyed from around him. There are too many blanks, too much missing information. We know so little yet people do not wish to find more. It's like they appreciate intellectual stagnation!"

The grublin listened to the entirety of his rant with interest nodding in agreement with certain points, and remaining silent on others. By the time the dragon was finished, he had patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, and spoke his mind. By the time he was done, he had the dragon shooing him out of his room to get rest, saying he would need it in the days to come. The grublin obliged, and went to his own room, and quickly fell asleep, his dreams haunted by the hungry eyes that stared at him as if they were analyzing his soul for the very information that eluded the dragon so.

The dragon on the other hand was dreaming of the different accounts, the thousands of stories, thousands of lies with hidden truths, each revealing themselves, only to shout false by the end. Each story, over and over passed through his mind's eye, and each story brought with it a nightmare of horrific proportions. His search for truth ending in his death. One such dream, though, held a door. A door that was not there in the previous telling. The dragon walked to it, examining it and staring at it's ancient carved details. Pushing open the door he found himself in a library that stretched as far as his eyes could see, and, suspiciously, he continued onwards down the pathway looking with awe and note-able amounts of suspicion at the titles of some of the books "The first age" one said, and another "History of the Guardians." he pulled that book from it's place on the shelf, and slid another spine down, to mark where he took it from. Skimming through it, he couldn't believe what he was reading until he was shocked to see every single one of the guardians of today's time with a mark saying first guardians of the seventh age. He looked at the first three pictures and gave a shout of surprise and dropped the book when another picture added itself to a blank page. "What is the meaning of this!" he exclaimed picking up the book once more and looking at the newly filled page reading the name of the dragon who's picture had been added under the Fire Guardians his heart nearly jumped into his throat, in both fear, and happiness. His closest friend has gotten the position, but was this merely a dream? He placed the book back and walked on landing himself in a clearing, with a high roof, and a viewing port. Spreading his wings, he landed on the platform just in front of the port, which creaked under his weight but stood firm.

Looking out is what astonished him most of all. The library was suspended in convexity, the draconic world of time standing still. Off in the distance he could see the portal that would have brought Malefor into the world empty and suspended in time, the library a labyrinth of hallways and viewports, with scrolls hanging above each. One of said scrolls having a language he learned to read and speak, but not converse in, sounding each word out he soon founds himself staring to where he once was, his face pale when he read the scroll "Aether" his name. This couldn't be happening, it was all some sort of dream, a nightmare. Shaking his head he leaped off of the platform, which was higher then the rest and had view-ports all around in a ring and landed amidst a workshop, like where one would record books. He saw one unfinished, lying on the table, and he walked to it and read it.

"He stood within the workshop and read the book slowly, confused and afraid of what he was to find. The events so far have already planted a seed of fear and suspicion of this place in his mind, one that seemed to grow when reading each word."

Aether shook his head and looked around, before turning his attention back to the book, which was adding a new paragraph, word by word.

"He couldn't believe what he was reading, and turned his head away to shake the thoughts that were telling him he should read on. They got the better of his judgment though and he continued reading each word as the appeared on the page, written by some unknown hand, and known by some invisible force. Aether couldn't place the writing, and he recoiled once he read his name, his mind telling him that this was impossible, that someone was wreaking foul magicks upon his head, and upon his dreams. Curiosity brought his eyes back to the book before his mind made it's decision to flee, and he read on, each word, and each thought being written as it happened."

He couldn't read it anymore tearing his eyes away from the book he searched for something, anything to tell him that he wasn't bewitched by some foul beast. Put under someone's spell and trapped so his mortal body could do their bidding. What he found, however, pushed every story he had ever heard into oblivion, shattered each into fragments of truth and lies, and built one singular story from the ground up into a book. That book, came from a singular item resting within the middle of the chamber, it's glow illuminating his mind, and capturing him where he stood. In front of him, was an hourglass. The dragon standing behind it, who looked to him with an intensity he would only see from one who saw the world die and be reborn, one responsible for chronicling every event that would happen, one meant to live out the rest of the age in solitude and confinement, reading and writing the tales of the world, and it's inhabitants, walked past it and stood before him. Aether found himself on his belly before the dragon, and his entire body was shaking with a fear of neither death, or any foe, but of a power that had spanned centuries, chronicled ages. A power that could have him confined and tortured until the day comes that time stops, and everything stands still, the end of existence.

"Aether, welcome to my home." it spoke, it's voice, calming, controlled, and masculine. "I know why you have come, although you may not know it yourself, please, stand." and Aether stood finding a place on his haunches in awe, bewilderment, and wonder. "You chronicle the lives of many, and you have chronicled the war against Malefor, bringing together accounts from veterans, the guardians, and the citizens. Because of this, I have brought you here, to learn of that which you so desperately wish to find out, in doing so, You shall live here, and you shall aid me until time comes that you should take my place. Upon which you shall have been wizened by the world, and have traveled among it so that every event chronicled you will have experienced. So it was that I have traveled the world, seen the rise of the dark master, his imprisonment, and his release, culminating the start of the war against Malefor." The dragon spoke, and he was compelled to listen.

"Now, I know of your name, and I know your deeds, but you have yet to know mine. Leave your home, and commission a flying boat to the ruin of Captain Skabb's fleet, once there, fly due east into the maelstrom it will not harm you, and you will find the winds will speed you towards the floating islands. Each contains a lock, and a test you must pass. Should you fail one of the tests, each lock will reset, and your time shall be stripped, until you have only enough for a last breath. You may take one other with you, for the road is long and treacherous alone. Now, go, and find my domain on your mortal world." The dragon said turning away as Aether felt a strange wrenching sensation, until he woke up in a sweat a single book beside him, which words were continuously added, and a paragraph highlighted amidst the newly forming words.

Aether stared at it for a second or two, before closing the book calmly, and violently tossing it to the other side of the room. As far as he knew, that book was bewitching him, and... and... well, he actually didn't really fear the book... it was what the book represented. He feared linearity, he feared a set path, an end he knew nothing about, yet, remained within sight of his manipulators. He was a chess player, not a pawn of some "High-and-Mighty" dragon who thought he knew everything, and will know everything. He sneered at the book, and everything it represented. Before turning to his window, and watching the sun rise... It was then he decided, the book was going into the river that flowed near the city.

Walking over, and picking it up with much disdain, he slid it into the book carrier he used to ferry other books from the library to his room, where he did the vast majority of his research. Sliding out in the wee hours of the morning, just after the sun crested the horizon, he began his trek towards the river. Only to run into the girl he had his eyes on for the last year. His cheeks flushed, and he stuttered out a morning greeting to her own. She giggled... sweet, innocent... he shook his head, attempting to change the thoughts running through his head from pleasured moans, to the book which he so despised... His anger, kept his slight arousal in check. Good.

"Where you off to?" She asked, with a sing-song tone in her voice

"Uh, no-where special." he replied, refusing to even glance at the book.

"Oh, mind if I join? Your never up this early, always doing some sort of research late into the night, then, when I get back, your rushing off to your room with nary a word to spare save for 'Hi.'"

She always was a talkative one, but he liked those types, someone to converse with when everything else was said and done "I've been busy... really busy try-"

"Yes, yes, I know what you are trying to do. I do ask after people, remember?"

"Ah, right..." he responded, what a way to respond. "So... What's up then?" he almost kicked himself for asking the next question "Mind joining me?"

"Of, course!" she responded quickly, happily, it made his heart jump a beat...

"G-great!" he responded, holding up a foreleg for her to continue on, him following on her left side.

They continued on in silence for a third of the trip, her vanishing from his side at times to look at the wares of the morning markets before upon her fourth return, she spoke up

"So... Where are you in your research?"

"My... research?" he asked drawing a blank for a moment "Oh! My research! Well... the latest account I had transcribed was by far the most complete. Grublins tend to be a vivid, and detail oriented people and tend to make very good historians." he replied adjusting the book, which stood like a weight against him and continued on "Apparently, He was in the city when Spyro and Cynder were attacking the Golem. His command nearly stopped them from saving the city. Unfortunatly, things backfired, and the plan which he so carefully laid out, fell to ashes around him. He survived, thankfully, and the duo went on to close the gates and stop the intruders from destroying Warfang."

She nods, understanding. That was another quality he liked about her, she understood him, and he was by far the hardest person to understand when he was flying everywhere. But, regardless of his fantasies, he knew they were friends for a reason, more or less.

"So what's the book for?" She asked... and he was loathe to respond.

"The book? It's just my latest piece of research, was meant for the chopping block, so the library gave it to me with instructions to do what I wish with it when done."

"Oh, mind if I take a look?" she asked and he had to tell her no.

"It's, not something I think you would like. Whole bunch of old war tales." he justified, they were nearing the river, and this whole illusion would be behind him.

"I like those kinds of stories."

His inner calm fell, he forgot the couple times he was in the library looking for books, she was there beside him, chatting it up in the less traveled sections of the rows upon rows of books. "Right... he murmured trying to think up another quick excuse "It's explicit, incredibly explicit..." he gave an inner sigh of relief, thinking he finally got the attention from it.

"Like how explicit?"

Uh, oh... "Well... Imagine a battle..." he said and she nodded "Now go into detail about what the person was doing."

"Doesn't sound very different from most stories."

He cursed himself, and before he could think of another response, the book was out of the carrier, and in the fleeing dragoness' hands, to which he gave rapid chase, if that book recorded everything... he began sprinting with near endless stamina... he had to get it back before she... he entered the clearing where he saw the girl disappear to "...reads it." he groaned to himself, his companion already three pages within, before turning to see him and blushing slightly

"I... uh... Think you should take this back..." she said, handing him the book back to which he put away quickly.

"Thanks..." he murmured, wondering what she thought of him now

"It seems to be saying something important. I only managed to read the highlighted portion, and whoever wrote it seems to think something lies out there. She perked up a little "If you go, can I join you!"

"I... No, I'm not going."

"Why not? That sounds fun, plus... if just by the age and texture of the bindings and book, it was made a long time ago. I didn't get to catch the title though... Mind reading it off? I couldn't understand it."

Aether sighed "Sure... Might as well. The name of the book is-" he froze, staring at the runes on the page "It's..."

"It's?" the dragoness asked curious now

Aether's mouth was dry, he couldn't speak... Before him the runs stood, and glowed with a power only he seemed to recognize to understand. A few more seconds and he was aware of the dragoness in front of him waving a hand in front of his face...

"What's the name of the book?" she asked taking it from his hands again "Lorsveki di wer Sililos Darastrixi, What an odd name..." she murred confused "What does it mean?"

"It means..." Aether responded, his blue scales bristling with fear "Prophecies of the Purple Dragon."

The dragoness didn't believe this, at first, and sunk her nose back into the book starting from the beginning. Only to drop the book in shock. "T-that can't be..." she squeaked... the page the book landed on when opened was faced, with three runes spelling out a name, and a picture of the beast to which the name belonged. She didn't need him to ask him to read off the runes. She knew the picture well enough.

"I-It's..." Both looked to each other for a split second in fear before they said what the other was thinking

"Malefor."

"But, how?" She asked after a minute of silence

"I... I don't know..." he picked up the book again, and turned to the last page

He looked at the words forming on the page. Stared at them with an intensity he had never used before. Within the 'Prophecies', held the answer for the question plaguing his mind. "What was I called for... What did he want... Why am I in the Prophecies of the Purple Dragons?" these questions rolled through his mind, his partner walking up beside him on silent steps to look at what he was reading. He continued on, as she jumped backwards, not expecting the words to be forming along the page. Intensely he stared, intensely he read, until a single thought formed in his mind. Check some of the other accounts within the book. They hold the reasons.

Aether didn't need the book to know what he was about to do. Flipping to earlier prophecies and chronicles of past purple dragons, he found a reason, but no sense in it. A single prophecy highlighted itself before his eyes, a sequel to the prophecy of the purple dragon. The dragoness creeped back to his side as he ravenously tore apart the information in the prophecy, analyzing each piece...

On a night of Darkness eternal, an enemy is reawakened. Evil, released upon the world.

The well, now broken serves no more as a jumping point between this world and the next.

Cut off from the major source of his power, the evil one waited for a day to dawn.

That day came, and bound he was to another.

Through trial, both rushed triumphant. Until, weeks after awaking, they found themselves facing down the evil one's own self.

The evil one was told of his place in the world, why he existed, and rallying against it, pushed himself back and locked himself away. With fire and earth raining around him, and the world's destruction beginning the evil one came to terms with himself, and with his mate beside him, remade the world.

Sealed away, the Evil one lives, surviving off the core of the world, until such a time as he is reawakened once more. Both of black storming the world with a fury that will bring about another. Long awaited.

With a strong hand guiding him, and a heavy heart, one not of purple will stop the evil one, and restore him to balance. The trials ahead are many, and the one not of purple will find that in the course of his quest he will transcend the boundaries set by the makers of the old world. Two of the color will co-exist in the realms. The older training the younger.

Two of black will co-exist, the younger learning from the older. The second of black shall become of the color upon an event marked by fate and sealed in time.

Four must live to save the old. Guardians four will rejoice the two, and two will continue to find the one. Two will die, and one will return.

So is this prophecy written, and sealed within the vestiges of time. The path is laid, stars aligned. Stick to this guidance, and true you will fly.

Aether read it over once more, trying to make sense of the passage.

"Well, what do you think it means?" The dragoness next to him asked.

"I don't know, Saphinara. I do not know."