I gave a flap of my wings as I coasted through the sky. The hues of orange, pink, and purple looked as if they had been put there by the stroke of a paintbrush. Spyro was just in front of me, leading the way to the truth.

What would be worse? I thought to myself. If we found evidence that incriminates me, or if we found nothing at all?

I looked up into the sky, where the stars were just faintly sparkling and flapped my wings again. I wished. I wished that I had never passed through Altonfield. I wished that I hadn't been found guilty for the murdering of all those people.

But nothing happened. Of course it wouldn't, I knew, but there had been a small sliver of hope that I would be taken back to that day twelve years ago, and I'd say, no... no, I can't go to Warfang.

While I was thinking, my mind went plunging back into that day. The day where it all ended.

Saifae was looking up, although reconstruction had hardly begun. It had only been a week, after all. Some buildings were still intact and all that needed to be done was simply remove and replace the charred wood or cracked stone, but other buildings had been irreparably destroyed and needed to be taken down completely.

All but the youngest among us worked from dawn until dusk or even longer. The children simply carried tools to the adults who were working, but even they were helping.

People came and went; some came from Warfang simply to help and leave again when they were done, others came for the promise of a new home where they could live peacefully. For them, Warfang held too many sorrowful memories.

"Crystal! Could you come here?" Terrador's voice rang out over Saifae.

I turned and walked towards him. "Do you need help with something?" I queried once we were within speaking distance.

"Yes, I need you to do something. We need a letter delivered to Warfang's council," Terrador replied.

"Why me? Can't a hawk do it?"

"The only hawk currently here is not a messenger hawk. I could get Spyro to go instead, but you're faster than he is. And we cannot have both of you go... One of you is needed here."

"What's in the letter?"

Terrador gazed at me with what seemed like... sympathy? "I'm not able to disclose that information."

I studied the ground. "Alright, I'll go. Just let me tell my family where I'm going." I nodded, turned, and headed towards the Swamp.

About a half-hour later, I was ready. I got the letter from Terrador and was about to take off when Spyro caught up with me.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

"Somebody has to go," I said, turning around.

"But—"

"Quit worrying about me, Spyro. I'll only be gone for a day at most, and I'm sure I'm capable of fending off whatever hostile creatures I encounter. What could happen?"

"I just have a bad feeling about this," Spyro said, averting his gaze.

"Goodbye, Spyro." I rolled my eyes and took off. Spyro was just being paranoid. There was nothing to worry about. Fly to Warfang and fly back... simplicity itself.

Somewhere inside me, so deep that I couldn't feel it, there was a tiny knot of dread.

I flew for hours. At first, the pain that shot up my side was nearly unbearable and I felt as if I needed to land, but as I got farther away, it dulled to an ache before fading completely.

Spyro and I had been trying to break the... whatever it was that was doing that to us. We went farther from each other every day until it hardly hurt anymore. We couldn't stay close together forever, after all.

I glanced at the sun. It was merely a blood-red dot on the horizon now. I didn't like traveling at night, but Warfang was only an hour or two away and I could rest once I was there. I flapped my wings, now sore from flying for three hours.

I sighed as I glanced at the boring scenery around me; a prairie that stretched along endlessly, grass waving in the cool night breeze. I had already left the large island that my home was situated on and crossed the ocean onto the mainlands. Now all I had to do was cross the wild terrain that led to Warfang.

The area below me eventually began to fill with trees until I was flying over a forest. I squinted at the horizon and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw Warfang's speck on the horizon. By now, the moons had risen from their slumber and taken their place in the sky.

I glanced down and managed to make something out in the distance. Outlines... shapes... buildings. Houses, that is. I was approaching a town.

Deciding that I could risk resting my wings for a minute, I drew closer to the town and glided down to it, touching down on its outskirts.

The town was large, larger than Saifae was. About forty buildings were here. Most were houses, but there were shops, what appeared to be a school, and a few other non-residential buildings. The whole place was dead-silent; not a single candle illuminated a window and no voices could be heard.

I looked around uneasily. It could only be eight or nine at the latest. Where was everybody? I took a few cautious steps forward, glancing around as I did. Perhaps the town had been abandoned? Or maybe people just went to sleep earlier.

I tensed suddenly. Something was wrong. My instincts were telling me that I needed to get out of there immediately. Run! my mind screamed. I was about to do just that when I just blacked out. I felt a pain in my side. The world faded before I hit the ground.

I slept for a long time. When I woke up, my mind felt like the tumbling of waves; wild and unpredictable. I managed to bring myself to my feet, the lethargy that overwhelmed me resisting every movement.

Breathing heavily, I blinked several times. There was a warmth around me, bathing me in a soothing glow. So familiar, but what was it?

Fire.

The word rang in my mind. Fire, fire, fire. Why was there fire? My heart leapt into my throat. Was the forest on fire? !

I raised my head, and when I did, my face drained of all color. It all came back to me... the town, the silence, the fear.

The whole place was on fire. Some buildings had already collapsed, while others were still standing, although they wouldn't be for long. I looked around frantically, and that's when I spotted him.

A dragon, laying a few paces away from me. He was an adult, by the look of him, and also seemed to be a fire dragon. It was so dark, despite the fire, that I couldn't make out any other features.

I stepped forward cautiously, on my guard. As I stepped forward, I managed to make out the blood that stained the ground near him.

Oh, no... I thought. I crouched down near the dragon. I stared at him closely, but I couldn't make out his breathing. His eyes were open , as if he were in shock. He was dead.

It was apparent that somebody had swiped at him with their claws by the wound in his chest, but who had killed him? I gazed at him with even more intensity. The wounds... they had been... corroded slightly. Not enough corrosion to be the work of poison, and there were no burns, so that only left...

Convexity.

My breath caught in my throat. I held up my paw beside the wound. The wound that had been left there matched my claw size.

"No... no!" I yelled, jumping away as if I had been burned. Impossible. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that! But... what about convexity? Nobody had the ability to breathe that element beside Spyro, Cynder, and me. I was the only one here.

I backed away from the dead dragon, but that's when I noticed that there were several more dragons laying about, all dead. I was forced into a full-blown panic then. Holding in a scream, I turned and dashed away, taking to the air as quickly as I could. I no longer had the letter, but I didn't care.

I fled the town, but where to go? Home? No, I couldn't. Warfang? Oh, that was an even worse idea! No, wait, it was a good idea. I needed to tell somebody what had happened here. They would get to the bottom of it, and tell me that it hadn't been me after all. Of course. That was the best way to go about it.

I returned my thoughts to the real world. I couldn't bear to think of that day anymore. Ever since that one day, that one mistake, the world went downhill. My world had been hanging by thread over a deep abyss, and on that day, the thread had snapped. And everything started to fall, leaving me behind in the darkness.

"Crystal?" Spyro's voice drew me out of my thoughts.

"Y-yeah?" I stuttered slightly.

"We're here." Spyro flew down and landed on the ground with ease. Me, not so much. I spiraled down in a circle, unsure of how to do ti correctly, and landed on my face rather than my feet. At least I wasn't hurt, anyway. I stood up and shook myself off.

I noticed with displeasure that the sun had set, and we had arrived at the exact same time I had twelve years ago. I shivered as the unnamed fire dragon's face was forced into my mind.

Spyro took a step forward and I slowly followed him, glancing around. The town was nothing now. The rubble left by the buildings hadn't been cleaned up, but the bodies had been. The forest had begun to take back the land, also, as the tall grass grew unchecked and there were a few small trees in the middle of the dirt road.

"Where should we look?" I asked, keeping my voice at a respectfully low tone.

"You check the buildings on the left. I'll check the ones on the right," Spyro replied, walking away.

"What do we look for?"

"We'll know it when we see it." Spyro didn't turn.

I tsked and turned towards what was left of the first building. Careful not to step on any sharp pieces of wood, I sifted through the debris. Although I found the usual household contents, nothing really seemed to be evidence.

The next building was somewhat intact. Although the ceiling had crashed in, the walls and even the second floor were still standing, the occasional gap aside. I stepped through the portion of wall that had been burned and into the bottom floor.

The room was devoid of furniture. There was absolutely nothing in it except charred remains. I glanced warily at the stairs, their steps looking as if they would give out at the slightest bit of pressure, and bravely began my ascent up them. One of the stairsteps did break, but I managed to step back before I could fall through.

I reached the top of the stairs and stepped carefully onto the top. I knew what I was doing was dangerous, but I didn't care. Like the room below, this room's contents had been burned until there was nothing left. Just to make sure I wasn't missing anything, I walked into the middle.

I yelped as the floor crashed beneath me. I managed to dig my claws into the floor, but that only slowed my descent slightly.

"Ow-ow-ow!" I cried as the jagged edges of the wood caught me and prevented me from falling. I thrashed, trying to break myself free. As soon as I did, I wished I hadn't. I screamed as I plummeted down to the second floor, something tearing in the process.

I nearly blacked out when I landed, but unfortunately, I didn't. A searing pain was emanating from my left wing. I looked over and noticed with horror that the membrane had been torn, from top to bottom in the middle.

"What happened?" Spyro asked, running through the hole and over to me.

"The floor—broke," I managed to gasp out through the pain.

"Are you alright?" Spyro demanded.

I glanced at my wing. Surprisingly, the pain had already dulled. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Will I be able to fly?"

"I don't know. We need to get to to Warfang so that can be fixed."

"Why? So they can heal me before carting me back to jail? No, I'm not going back there until I have evidence that says I'm innocent." I turned and began to walk away.

"If we don't leave, you may never be able to fly again!" Spyro exclaimed.

I hesitated. "...We have to stay."

It was a hard decision to make. Flying was something I loved to do. Well... had loved to do, anyway. It had been my whole life, and the years without being in the air had all but killed me. But what was the point of leaving? Once my wing was fixed, I would just be sent back to the prison, where I'd never be able to fly again—that is, if they didn't kill me on sight for escaping.

Determined, I continued on down the line of burned buildings, searching through all of them. When I finished picking through the last ruin, I prepared to join Spyro on the right side when I spotted a house. The house was placed far from the rest, and notably had very little damage done to it at all. Although the front end of the house was charred and it sagged from the years of abandonment, it was in nearly perfect condition.

"Hey, Spyro, come over here," I called. Spyro did as he was told.

"Wow. That house looks as if it hadn't even been touched," Spyro said.

I headed towards it, making my way through the grass that nearly came up to my head. Spyro followed me somewhat reluctantly. When we reached the door, I pushed on it. With a creeeeaaaak, it opened and we stepped through.

I looked around. The room was dark, but I could make out the outlines of furniture. I spotted a desk and walked over to it, coughing as I kicked up a thick blanket of dust.

Luckily, there was a window right above the desk. The moonlight filtered in through it, those little particles dancing in the light. I walked up to the desk and looked around it, but there was nothing on it. I was about to leave when I noticed something wedged between a wall and the desk's leg.

"It's a journal," I said aloud as I pulled it out. Spyro walked over beside me as I flipped it open to the first page and set it on the desk.

I squinted at the letters. They were just lines and circles... had I forgotten how to read? I knew I could read numbers, but... I breathed a sigh of relief as the shapes turned into familiar letters.

I flipped through the pages, skimming over the text. Nothing interesting was in here. I was about to put it back when a word caught my eyes.

Malefor.

I looked back at the top of the page and began to read, my eyes widening as I did so.

"Spyro, you need to see this," I said, voice quivering.