Although I managed to stay in the air, Spyro, also known as my brother the klutz, didn't. He somehow got tangled up in some tree vines soon after taking off and ended up crash-landing on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I asked, flying down to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Spyro stood up and shook his head before flying back into the air.

"Oh, by the way... nice landing, Spyro." I snickered and dashed away from him. Spyro glared at me, but made no move to retaliate.

We set off for Munitions Forge, which was already in our sight but distant. I could see the silhouette of the volcano if I looked hard. The sun was nearing, ever-closer, to the end of its reign today, but it would be an hour or two before full nighttime.

I sighed as I flew along. The flight was very quiet. Even after we had reached the dangerous ocean, there were no Soldier cannons, Leviathans, or even Dreadwings to speak of. I was so bored, but then I saw the purple saviour before me.

"Are we there yet?" I asked expectantly, knowing very well that we weren't there yet and wouldn't be for a while.

"No," Spyro answered flatly. He knew exactly what I was up to.

"Are we there yet?" I asked a few minutes later.

"No, Crystal. Not yet."

"Are we there yeeeeet?"

"No!" was the prompt response. I knew I was annoying Spyro, and that was exactly what I was going for.

"Are we there yet?" I hardly waited thirty seconds this time.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No!"

"Are we there yet?" It was constant now.

"No!"

"How about now?"

"No! We are not there!"

That silenced me for about a minute.

"Hey, Spyro, I have a question..."

"What?"

"ARE WE THERE YET?!"

"NO!" both Spyro and Sparx yelled at me. I grinned. Success. Spyro and Sparx were annoyed, and I was amused.

This time, I waited about ten minutes, to give them a sense of security. Finally, I said suddenly, "Are—"

"—we there yet?!" Spyro finished, exasperated.

"Yes!" Sparx exclaimed.

"Oh, finally!" was all I had to say about it. That was where the joking around ended and the seriousness began.

We landed at the base of the island. The moment I neared the ground, the heat started to sink in. The sand under my paws was one notch below searing, and I found it hard to stand still on it. The ocean around us looked and smelled odd. It was polluted, and foul-smelling steam rose from it. I found the source of the pollution, a giant metal tank across the beach that had lava and other things flowing from it to the ocean.

Also at the far end of the island was a metal ramp that led up to a passageway in the mountain. There was a giant pickaxe that was somehow slamming itself into the ground. I had no idea how in the world that was possible,but I just decided it was best not to ask. In the distance was a volcano, and I could see the heat waves rising above the top.

"Munitions Forge is an island dominated by Boyzitbig, an unstable volcano that makes life on the surface very dicey. The locals, who live underground, have been forced to mine the metals that Cynder uses to forge her army's weapons," Ignitus said with his magical mind-talking powers. I think he was speaking to us through the Pool of Visions. I still didn't have it figured out yet.

"But what are the locals called?" Spyro asked aloud, glancing about.

"They're called Manweersmalls."

"Right. Do I need to write that down?" Sparx asked sarcastically.

"Rumour has it that Cynder is holding Terrador somewhere in the mines. Now she's using him to power the last crystal she needs to open the portal. Free him before she gets the chance." With that, Ignitus' voice was silent.

"Boy, is it big!" Sparx exclaimed, referring to the volcano. I sighed. Boyzitbig? Boy-is-it-big? And I bet the Manweersmalls are moles?

"Yeah... it's big." Spyro said, his voice awestricken. We had heard of volcanoes, but we had never seen one. That was no mountain... it was amazing.

"But no time for sightseeing, Sparx," Spyro continued. "Time to get serious. Let's go." We walked forward towards the far end of the island.

"Ugh... not again!" Sparx squeaked, flying after us.

I bit my tongue to keep from complaining about the very hot sand. By now, my tongue probably had various puncture wounds in it—I had been having to bite it and keep back a nasty or sarcastic comment a lot more than usual!

I dodged sideways as a Soldier catapulted into me. Unfortunately, he didn't miss. I screamed as we went flying into the poisonous water. The very hot, skin-degrading poisonous water. The Soldier was almost immediately roasted alive, but seeing that my scales could take a lot more damage than fur and skin, I managed to get out unscathed... just very hot.

I spent the next five minutes screaming and running around in circles as smoke was visibly coming off me. Spyro yelled at me to hold still so he could breathe ice on me, but I payed little attention to him. I finally did what he asked and Spyro breathed ice. The burning sensation and smoke faded away.

"Thank you," I panted, knocking a Soldier out of the way and walking for the iron ramp that led to the inside of the mountain.

On our way there, though, we were interrupted again. Some Soldiers and a Commander streamed out of the tunnel. The Soldiers were easy. I just turned them into snowballs with ice and rolled them down the ramp and into the polluted ocean. The Commander was a bit harder, as he didn't freeze as easily or turn into a snowball at all. Alternation between ice, to slow him down, and electricity, to throw him, worked well here. Once we had gotten him into the ocean, I exchanged glances with Spyro and continued up to the tunnel.

We slipped into the darkness, heading towards the glow on the other end. There were some beetle nests attached to the walls, reminding me of home, the time beetles had swarmed the Swamp. Although I didn't like that memory, it was still a memory. I felt more homesick than ever, but I pushed the feeling back, shaking my head to clear it. I needed to concentrate.

The metal ramp cut off at the end of the tunnel. The metal at the end was bent and twisted, as if it had been longer before, but had been cut off. Spyro, Sparx, and I were above a trench. The glow was coming from lava pools below. They bubbled like slightly boiling water.

I exhaled a breath of ice. It was hot in there. I'd have given anything to be teleported to Dante's Freezer. Despite the occasional bad experiences, at least I wasn't dying of heat.

The bang bang of a giant pickaxe brought my attention back. I looked down again and saw a few Soldiers as well as a Leader. I glided down. I told myself that I could withstand a little heat as I did. We weren't going to be here for long anyhow.

Spyro pushed the Soldiers into the lava pool. Although I was glad that all these hazards were in the area and made for easy kills, the pained shrieks of the Soldiers as they sunk into the lava duly unnerved me. Where was the fun and excitement, like there had been on Dante's Freezer? Now I was just melancholy and maybe even scared. Maybe I had been all along.

In the corner of the room was a door with a fire emblem on it. It opened silently and automatically as we approached. We climbed the stairs and entered the large room that spread out before us.

Remember the mole thing?

There was one standing right there in the room we walked into, his back turned to us. He was wearing a disk-shaped hat with a candle burning steadily on it, and was leaning on a cane.

"Man... he is small," Spyro whispered to Sparx and I.

The moment the words escaped his mouth, the mole jumped in surprise, flipped around, and faced us. "What's that?! Who's there?!" he shouted in some strange accent, sniffing the air and holding his cane out towards us as if it were a weapon.

"I-it's me. Spyro," Spyro said, as if we had known the mole for a long time.

"And Crystal," I introduced myself, backing away and not wanting to provoke the mole.

"And the former god of Tall Plains, Sparx," Sparx boasted, glancing dismissively at his hand.

"You don't carry the stench of Cynder's forces... so you must be friends," the mole said. He dropped his stance and tapped the cane on the ground contemplatively.

"We are... who are you?" Spyro asked.

"I am Mole-Yair, leader of the Manweersmalls. But I'm not much of a leader anymore. Those are my people who are mining for Cynder without pay, scared out of their little wits, waiting for Boyzitbig to blow!" Mole-Yair gestured towards a tunnel. I could faintly see the shadows of moles in it.

The ground rumbled briefly but forcefully, throwing Spyro off his feet. I barely managed to hold my own. I helped Spyro up.

"Which shouldn't be long. If you could help me free them, perhaps there's something I can do for you?" Mole-Yair asked. I looked at Spyro.

"I don't know. We're here to rescue a big friend of ours," he said.

"Is he a mighty dragon?"

"Yes... why?"

"Because I know where he's being kept! He is being kept near a large labor camp, where my own brother, Exhumor, toils away! We can help each other!" Mole-Yair exclaimed, fairly dancing.

"Well, what do you want us to do for you?" I asked.

"Oh, it's simple enough, but we've got to hurry! Boyzitbig is getting more unstable by the minute! We must clear this cave before we can help your friend," Mole-Yair replied.

"And you're asking him for directions?" Sparx asked. "Talk about blind leading the blind."

"Forget him, Mole-Yair. We're in," Spyro said.